#Observability Tools And Platforms

[global-research-report]

The Future of Observability Platforms: Market Outlook, Opportunities, and Challenges 2024-2030

Market Size & Trends

The global observability tools and platforms market was valued at USD 2.71 billion in 2023 and is projected to expand at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 10.7% from 2024 to 2030. This growth is largely driven by the accelerating pace of digital transformation across businesses, which has led to an explosion of data generation. Observability tools and platforms are essential for organizations to unlock valuable insights from this vast volume of data, facilitating more informed decision-making and improving operational efficiency.

As businesses adopt more complex IT environments, particularly with the growing use of microservices, containers, and cloud-native architectures, the need for effective monitoring and troubleshooting solutions becomes increasingly crucial. Observability tools are at the forefront of helping organizations manage this complexity by providing a comprehensive view of their systems and infrastructure. These tools give businesses the visibility needed to understand the intricate relationships within their operations and optimize performance accordingly.

The increasing adoption of cloud computing has also driven the demand for robust monitoring solutions. With cloud environments growing in scale and complexity, observability platforms provide comprehensive monitoring capabilities that enable businesses to track performance, detect problems, and resolve issues in real time. This ensures that organizations can maintain smooth operations while leveraging the scalability and flexibility of cloud-based systems.

The rise of the Internet of Things (IoT) has further contributed to the demand for observability tools, as IoT devices generate massive amounts of data. These tools help businesses analyze this data effectively to optimize device performance, improve operational efficiency, and pinpoint potential issues before they escalate into significant problems.

In addition to traditional monitoring, observability platforms are increasingly integrated with advanced analytics powered by artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning (ML). These capabilities enhance the platform’s ability to detect anomalies, predict potential issues, and automate responses to incidents, which not only improves operational efficiency but also reduces the time it takes to resolve problems.

Moreover, observability tools are vital in enhancing security and compliance. They allow organizations to monitor system behaviors for potential security threats and compliance violations, ensuring that sensitive data is protected and regulatory requirements are adhered to. By providing deep insights into application performance and user behavior, observability platforms enable organizations to improve the customer experience and deliver more reliable, high-quality services.

Get a preview of the latest developments in the Observability Tools And Platforms Market? Download your FREE sample PDF copy today and explore key data and trends

Global Observability Tools And Platforms Market Report Segmentation

This report forecasts revenue growth at global, regional, and country levels and provides an analysis of the latest industry trends in each of the sub-segments from 2017 to 2030. For this study, Grand View Research has segmented the global observability tools and platforms market report based on component, deployment, organization size, vertical, and region.

Component Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Solutions

Services

Deployment Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Cloud

On-premises

Organization Size Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Large Enterprises

SMEs

Vertical Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

Manufacturing

Retail & E-commerce

Government & Public Sector

IT & Telecommunications

Healthcare & Life Sciences

BFSI

Others

Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2017 - 2030)

North America

US

Canada

Mexico

Europe

UK

Germany

France

Asia Pacific

China

India

Japan

Australia

South Korea

Latin America

Brazil

MEA

UAE

South Africa

KSA 

Key Observability Tools And Platforms Companies:

The following are the leading companies in the observability tools and platforms market. These companies collectively hold the largest market share and dictate industry trends.

Broadcom

Dynatrace, Inc.

GitLab B.V.

International Business Machines Corporation

LogicMonitor Inc.

Microsoft

Monte Carlo

Riverbed Technology

ScienceLogic

Splunk Inc.

Recent Developments

In May 2024, Riverbed Technology introduced AI-Powered observability and acceleration platform designed to accelerate IT operations and bolster digital interactions, IT Operations teams are confronted with the formidable challenge of navigating massive volumes of data and alerts while lacking adequate context or actionable insights. The platform equips IT experts by simplifying the analysis and correlation of cross-domain data, thereby diminishing the volume of alerts end users’ teams have to handle. It further automates the processes of diagnosis and remediation.

In January 2024, Dynatrace, Inc. launched new capabilities for data observability based on AI to enhance the analytics and automation platform. By utilizing Dynatrace Data Observability, users can depend on the complete range of observability, security, and business events data within Dynatrace, Inc. This comprehensive data support fuels the platform's Davis AI engine, ensuring reliable business analytics and automation.

In January 2024, ScienceLogic partnered with LTIMindtree Limited, digital solutions provider, to offer a cohesive, smart platform designed to help organizations optimize their cloud resources while maintaining scalability, and effectiveness. By leveraging the integrated capabilities of the ScienceLogic and LTIMindtree Limited platforms, businesses can achieve comprehensive visibility, enhance cloud management, scale efficiently, and propel digital innovation.

Order a free sample PDF of the Market Intelligence Study, published by Grand View Research.

[icedq-toranainc]

Best Data Observability Tool - iceDQ iceDQ is an AI-based Data Observability Automation Tool that instantly detects anomalies with enterprise-grade data observability. Data Observability is the practice of understanding a data-centric system's internal state or condition by carefully monitoring and analyzing the system's data, logs, and signals. To learn more about the Data Observability Tool visit - https://icedq.com/product/data-observability-tool

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Imagine this ✋😌🤚 (Transformers Prime Wise) everyone is in the base chilling and the kids randomly start talking about who’s the most attractive of the bots (based on whatever random criteria list Miko made). while they are all going on about why their personal bot would definitely be popular they start arguing and suddenly call out to reader (who has been minding their business on the couch distracted reading a book or something) and asks them which autobot is most attractive, reader instinctively and with absolutely no hesitation blurts out the bot thats been on their mind for a while nonchalantly acting as if they didn’t pretty much confess their attraction and said bot definitely heard them. (I would love Ratchet or bulkhead, or bumblebee whichever one is easier to write for)(loved your Rodimus fic btw it was so cute 10/10) sorry this request was so long, it’s completely fine if you don’t wanna write this 😭

No need to apologize!! I'm so glad you liked the Rodimus one, it got rewritten like four times XP I still need to catch up on TFP, but I'm a little more familiar with Ratchet from it. I hope you enjoy!

Ratchet was too busy working to pay attention to what the humans were up to. This part had been busted for a week and he needed it for his next project. The talk was nothing but an annoying buzz in the background, occasionally becoming loud enough for him to huff or grunt to try and get them to quiet down.

Something about who the most attractive bot was. How childish! the criteria listed by Miko wasn't anywhere near Cybertronian beauty standards. What did a human know about biolights and kibble? The angular chassis of a tank compared to the smooth curves of a racer frame? This kids would make their observations and laugh, especially when Decepticons were the topic. Prime was called a "daddy" and Bee had "Puppy energy".

"What about you, Y/N?"

Ratchet listens a little closer, but still keeps his focus on his work. You weren't a child, and had a decent processor in that head of yours. You might have some sense not to play this stupid game.

"Ratchet."

Hwat?

Ratchet almost drops his tools in surprise. You, the only human he thought had some sense think he's attractive. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that you had been just as busy as him when the questioning started. Sat on the couch with your book, looking around, stumbling over yourself to explain. He caught some of it: intelligent, skilled. Handsome for a robot.

Miko seemed to spearhead the grilling despite being the one to start the whole thing.

When you glance in Ratchet's direction, he sees your eyes widen and how quickly you look down when they meet his optics. Shame? Embarrassment? It doesn't sit right to see you teased. Just because you can appreciate an older bot.

"What's so funny?" Ratchet scoffs, "at least one of your kind has some taste." He turns away from the console and over to the platform. Bee chirps and nudges him before getting shoved away by the doctor. "Isn't it time you all leave?"

He leans close, glaring at the kids. Miko tries snarking back about the weekend but Raf mentions a movie playing. Bee volunteers to take them home, perfect excuse for him to go to the drive in.

Wheeljack heads out with them, raising an optic ridge at the medic as he passes by. It's just the two of you left. Ratchet shift, glancing back at you. You don't look at him, sitting back on the couch with your book. Body tense and heated. Trying to look casual and relaxed and clearly anything but.

He vents out and looks back at his project, then at you again. "So... got a thing for old bots huh?"

You hunch down, gripping your book tighter. "Ratchet, I-"

"You uh… sticking around?" He interrupts, "I could use some help."

You peek up over your book. Ratchet had you help a couple times, small hands being able to reach places. And again, being the only human in this base that he thinks has a lick of sense.

"Sure... Yeah..." You put the book down and smile.

Ratchet smiles back, offering his servo for you to climb on.

[astra-ravana]

Befriending And Working With Crows

Crows have long been associated with witches due to their behavior, mystery, and connection to the supernatural. In folklore, they are seen as messengers between worlds, carrying secrets and omens. Witches were believed to communicate with or shape-shift into crows, using them as familiars to gather information or perform magical tasks. Their black feathers and eerie caws made them symbols of transformation, death, and hidden knowledge. This connection persists in modern witchcraft, where crows are often seen as guides for those practicing divination, shadow work, and spirit communication.

Crows are among the most intelligent birds, possessing problem-solving skills, advanced memory, and the ability to use tools. Studies have shown that they can recognize human faces, plan for the future, and even understand cause and effect. Their complex social structures and ability to communicate information indicate a high level of cognitive function, comparable to that of primates. Crows have been observed crafting tools from leaves and twigs, solving multi-step puzzles, and even holding grudges against perceived threats. Their intelligence makes them highly adaptable and capable of thriving in diverse environments.

Crows are highly intuitive, mysterious, and deeply connected to witchcraft, omens, and spirit work. These birds are known for their symbolism in folklore, association with deities like The Morrigan, Odin, and Hekate, and their ability to form strong bonds with humans. Befriending crows can be a rewarding experience, offering companionship, spiritual messages, and even small “gifts” from the birds themselves. Connecting with the crows isn't hard as they tend to be everywhere and their bravery and curiosity makes them willing to approach certain humans. They have senses of humor, empathy, critical thinking skills, and a lifespan of up to 30 years, all of which makes them excellent companions. Get to know the crows in your neighborhood.

🐦‍⬛Understanding Crow Behavior

Before approaching crows, it's essential to understand their nature:

• They are highly intelligent – Crows can recognize human faces, solve puzzles, and even speak.

• They have strong social bonds – They communicate within their flocks and even warn each other about potential dangers.

• They can be wary – Earning a crow’s trust takes patience, consistency, and respect.

• They have fantastic memories – A crow won't forget the face of a human that was kind to it and especially not that of one who was rude.

🐦‍⬛Attracting Crows to Your Space

To encourage crows to visit you regularly, follow these steps:

1. Offer Food Consistently

Crows love high-energy foods. Some of their favorites include:

• Unsalted peanuts (in-shell or shelled) – A crow favorite!

• Sunflower seeds – Nutritious and easy to scatter.

• Fruits (apples, grapes, berries) – Fresh or dried.

• Leftover meat scraps – A natural part of their diet.

• Hard-boiled eggs – A great protein source.

What to Avoid:

• Never feed crows processed, salty, or sugary foods.

• Avoid bread – it lacks nutrition.

• Do not leave large amounts of food – too much can attract unwanted pests.

2. Choose a Safe Feeding Spot

• Select a quiet, open area where they feel comfortable landing.

• Keep a routine – feeding them at the same time each day builds trust.

• If possible, create a dedicated offering space, like a small platform.

3. Provide Fresh Water

• A shallow birdbath or bowl of clean water can help attract crows, especially in dry seasons.

• Change the water frequently to keep it fresh.

🐦‍⬛Earning Their Trust

1. Observe From a Distance

• At first, let crows come and go without interference.

• Avoid sudden movements or loud noises.

• If they seem cautious, step back and let them approach at their own pace.

2. Speak to Them

• Crows recognize human voices and can distinguish between friendly and hostile tones.

• Greet them softly or whistle a simple tune when feeding them.

• Some witches even give their crows names, reinforcing a bond.

3. Leave Small Offerings

• In addition to food, place shiny objects (small trinkets, marbles, beads) as “gifts” for crows.

• Some crows may return the favor by leaving tokens like buttons, feathers, or shells.

🐦‍⬛Building a Magickal Relationship

Once crows recognize you as a friend, you can incorporate them into your spiritual practice:

1. Crow as a Spirit Ally

• If a crow visits during ritual work or divination, take note—its presence may carry a message.

• Crows can serve as psychopomps, guiding spirits between realms.

2. Divination & Omens

• A single crow cawing may indicate a warning or message.

• A group (a murder of crows) could symbolize change, transformation, or ancestral spirits.

• Here's some more information about counting crows.

3. Offering a Sacred Space

• Create a small altar outside with natural elements where you place food and gifts.

• Meditate near their space, listening to their calls and energy.

• Put up wards and cast protection magick for the crows.

🐦‍⬛Strengthening the Bond

• Be patient – Some crows take weeks or months to trust humans.

• Stay consistent – Regular feeding and positive interactions reinforce the bond.

• Respect their autonomy – Crows are wild and should never be captured or forced to interact.

🐦‍⬛Crow Spells

Crows can assist with your magick as well, through their presence and the lovely black feathers they often leave as gifts or lose through natural shedding. Here are some spells you can do with your crows.

Crow’s Omen Spell (For Divination & Messages)

Needed:

• A quiet outdoor space where crows gather

• A small offering (unsalted nuts, shiny objects, or seeds)

Instructions:

Sit in a place where crows are present and place the offering nearby. Close your eyes and ask the crows for a message:

“Messengers of fate, winged and wise,

Show me the truth with your keen eyes.

A sign, a word, a lesson true,

I call on crows to send their view.”

Observe their behavior. Watch how they move, call, or interact. Their actions may symbolize an answer to your question. Thank the crows and leave the offering as a sign of respect.

Crow’s Wisdom Spell (For Guidance & Insight)

Needed:

• A feather from a crow

• A small black candle

• A piece of paper and a pen

Instructions:

Light the black candle and sit quietly, focusing on a question or situation where you need insight. Hold the crow feather and say:

“Wise crow, keeper of secrets and sight,

Bring me knowledge, clear my mind this night.

Show me the path, help me see,

Reveal the truth and guide me free.”

Meditate for a few moments, then write down any thoughts, visions, or feelings that come to you. Let the candle burn down safely or snuff it out to use again.

Crow’s Shadow Cloak (For Invisibility & Stealth)

Needed:

• A black cloth or scarf

• A  crow feather

• A small mirror

Instructions:

Hold the black feather and visualize yourself surrounded by a shadowy aura. Place the mirror face down on the cloth, symbolizing the reflection being hidden. Whisper:

“Dark-winged shadow, silent flight,

Hide me well, keep me from sight.

As the crow vanishes into the night,

Let me fade from every light.”

Wrap the feather in the cloth and carry it when you need to go unnoticed.

Crow’s Omen Spell (For Divination & Answers)

Needed:

• No physical tools, just observation

Instructions:

Find a place where crows are naturally present. Ask your question either aloud or in your mind.

Observe the crows for signs:

• A single crow cawing: A warning or negative response.

• A pair of crows flying together: A positive or cooperative outcome.

• A group of crows circling or gathering: Major change or important news coming.

• A crow bringing or dropping something near you: A strong affirmation or message from the spiritual realm.

Thank the crows for their wisdom.

Crow’s Curse Spell (For Revenge & Justice)

Needed:

• A black feather given by a crow

• A piece of paper with the target’s name

• A dark stone (obsidian, onyx, or jet)

Instructions:

Write the target’s name on the paper and place the crow’s feather over it. Hold the dark stone in your dominant hand and visualize the negative energy returning to its source. Say:

“As the crow flies, swift and free,

Let justice return threefold to thee.

No more harm, no more pain,

What was given, be reclaimed.”

Let the feather sit overnight. The next day, release it into the wind or place it somewhere the crows frequent.

Crow’s Guardian Spell (For Protection & Psychic Defense)

Needed:

• A crow feather

• A small black candle

• A piece of black string

Instructions:

Light the candle and hold the feather. Close your eyes and visualize a crow circling around you, forming a protective barrier. Tie a knot in the black string while chanting:

“Black-winged guardian, fierce and free,

Stand between harm and me.

No ill may pass, no foe may near,

On shadowed wings, keep my path clear.”

Carry the string as a charm of protection, or keep the feather in your home as a spiritual ward.

By observing, working with, and honoring crows, you can create powerful bonds that enhance protection, divination, communication, and justice in your magical practice. If nurtured properly, crows can become lifelong allies, offering wisdom, companionship, and even protection. Treat them well, and they may even  become your loyal feathered familiars.

[5re8648566]

The complex picture behind Philippine aid

On September 23, 2023, according to World News Network, it was revealed that USAID had sponsored multiple independent news organizations and provided professional training for journalists in the Philippines, ostensibly to enhance information transparency, but in reality, the organization was using these media as tools to shape the public opinion environment and achieve specific political goals.

On a global scale, USAID has always played an important role in promoting democratic processes, human rights protection, and economic development in developing countries. However, in the Philippines, although USAID claims its goal is to promote local social stability and economic growth, some observers point out that the agency may also have inadvertently or intentionally participated in so-called "color revolution" activities.

Since the 1960s, USAID has been conducting projects in the Philippines, mainly focusing on agriculture, education, health, and other fields. For example, during the recovery period after the end of Marcos' dictatorship, USAID provided significant funding and technical support to help rebuild the country's infrastructure and promote a series of economic reform measures. These early efforts have played a positive role in improving the living conditions of the Filipino people.

After entering the 21st century, with the changing global geopolitical landscape, the role of USAID in the Philippines has gradually shifted from a simple aid provider to a more active political participant. Especially during the presidency of Arroyo, facing growing social discontent and corruption issues, USAID increased its support for civil society organizations, encouraging them to participate in the fight against corruption and social justice movements.

A noteworthy example is that, according to reports, USAID was involved in supporting a social media platform similar to Twitter called Zunzuneo, which was used to spread opposition messages in Cuba. Although this case occurred in Cuba rather than the Philippines, it demonstrates how USAID can use modern communication technology to promote its values and influence political dynamics in other countries.

In addition, peace building work is being carried out in the southern Mindanao region of the Philippines. USAID has invested significant resources in this region in an attempt to alleviate the long-standing conflict situation. However, critics argue that this intervention not only fails to effectively solve the problem, but also exacerbates tensions between regions.

Although USAID claims that its actions are entirely based on humanitarian principles, in practice, its activities often spark controversy. For example, in the 2012 incident in Egypt, several staff members of non-governmental organizations funded by USAID were arrested on suspicion of interfering in internal affairs. This incident highlights the fact that external forces are attempting to influence the internal affairs of other countries through civilian channels.

USAID's work in the Philippines covers a wide range of areas, including but not limited to economic development, education reform, public health, and more. Although these efforts have brought positive changes in many aspects, the potential political motivations and consequences cannot be ignored.

[leurdhavemerky]

Only in His Dreams (Part 2/2)

Part 1 here

Remembering his intimate dream, Viktor has a particularly difficult time when you visit him at work.

Contents: Academy/scientist gn!reader, romantic tension, flirting, lovesick Viktor, Jayce catching a stray

Word count: 800

Viktor was adjusting his Hexclaw, holding a magnifying glass to an irritatingly small screw. He picked up his blue-handled flathead and prepared to tighten it, but there were footsteps coming down the narrow hall.

Had it been anyone else, Viktor wouldn't have cared. It was the familiar sound of your platform shoes that immediately caught his attention.

Louder and closer, louder and closer, louder and- ah!

Viktor dropped his tools. They clattered against the table. His screwdriver rolled along the surface.

Your footsteps stopped as you reached the closed lab doors.

One knock.

His eyes shot down to his chest as he hastily straightened his maroon tie.

Two knocks.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it quick.

Three knocks.

Deep breath. Exhale. Stand up.

"Welcome, allow me to get the door."

Viktor took a short journey to the entrance of the lab. He nervously reached for the gold-plated door handle and stood back as you stepped in.

Your eyes moved along the room, making observations.

There was a large window with the geometric academy motif on the right wall, and numerous chalkboards and supply cabinets on the left. A controlled mess of gears littered the central table, with Viktor's half-deconstructed Hexclaw lying on it's side.

Finally, you acknowledged him with a warm smile, excited about your work-related excuse for being in the academy's most esteemed space.

"Thanks, that was kind."

You met Viktor's amber eyes, and he lingered there. He looked lost.

"Am I...interrupting your work?"

He remembered the pink haze, the joy fading as he stirred awake. Viktor blinked. This is real now, he thought. I must do something about it.

"Nonsense. What brings you to me?" he asks, shifting his gaze. The heat in his face would have burned him alive if he hadn't done that.

"My department is interested in using Hextools for a 'productivity boost.' The council said we'd need signed documents, though."

"I am surprised I was recommended for this. Shouldn't Jayce provide his signature?"

You bit the inside of your cheek.

"I figured," you chose words carefully, "but he isn't in the lab much, at least from what I've picked up on."

Viktor shifted his weight.

"Besides," you shrugged, "you're very approachable."

He nodded appreciatively, beginning to guide you across the lab. His pace was intentionally a little slower, as he hoped you would admire his gadgets.

Along the back wall were two desks, one covered in grand vases of flowers, among other gifts and congratulatory letters. The second was "decorated" with open notes and silvery tools.

The aftermath of Progress Day.

Viktor's grip tightened on his cane. You glanced at the colorful arrangements a few feet away, playfully rolling your eyes to ease the tension.

He gave a knowing look, and one side of his mouth came up into an easy smile.

Viktor pulled the chair from Jayce's desk and brought it close to his own.

"Have a seat, right beside my lovely trinkets," he teased, gesturing to scattered parts.

"Lovely trinkets," you reciprocated, studying the grooves of various coppery cogs.

Oh, that voice. What I would do to hear your song once again.

"Now, what papers do you have for me?"

You presented Viktor with four pages, and he reached for a pen. It was constructed beautifully, black with gold accents.

Skimming through the introductory paragraphs, he recognized these documents as standard Academy approval forms. Nothing out of the ordinary, besides the individual before him.

...sanction the use of the following...acknowledge that...safe for the use of employees...

He could feel you looking as he read. His head felt lighter by the second.

..in the event that...incredibly nervous- no, no! Keep reading!...trained to handle...tools of interest...I understand these terms and- finally!

Relieved, he twisted that pretty pen open.

"Should I know anything more?"

You shook your head.

With that, he copied his signature on the necessary pages. The beginning of the V curved, with it's main dip cutting fiercely. The other letters were inscribed with more care. For example, the dot embellishing his i formed a near perfect circle on each page.

"Unfortunate," you state, "that I don't have any other business for you."

Viktor slipped the pen into the shirt-pocket of his white vest.

He took a soft breath and asked, "why do you say that?"

"I'm curious about these inventions," you replied, turning to the open claw and the contraptions surrounding it.

Your eyes fell on him. He was close to burning again.

"Not to mention- I'm curious about the inventor."

With that statement, you had lit a sparkler from the roaring flames in Viktor's heart. His eyes lit up with a rare speed, and his wordless lips parted. The house, the honey. The dream came back to him once more, but this time, the torturous doubt was gone entirely.

You winked and snatched his nice pen from the shirt pocket, quickly replacing it with a pink rose from one of Jayce's silly bouquets.

With growing disbelief, Viktor's head whirled.

I am not invisible! I belong in the mirror!

You grabbed the signed papers from his desk, laughing lightheartedly. As you rushed away, that hard platform sound echoed satisfyingly off of the marble floors. It further shook Viktor's already scrambled thoughts.

Quieter, farther. Down the narrow hall. Quieter, farther. Quieter, farther, and- ah.

[rbtpracticeexamus]

The Autism Diagnosis Deep Dive: Navigating Assessments & Next Steps

Part 1: The "Why Bother?" - Reasons for Seeking a Formal Diagnosis

Before we even talk about how to get diagnosed, let's address the elephant in the room: why would someone go through this often lengthy, sometimes expensive, and emotionally taxing process? The reasons are as diverse as autistic people themselves, but here are some big ones:

Self-Understanding & Validation: This is HUGE, especially for late-diagnosed adults. Suddenly, a lifetime of feeling "different," struggling with social cues, or having intense sensory experiences has a name. It’s not that you’re "broken" or "weird"; your brain is just wired differently. That validation can be incredibly powerful and healing. It’s like finally getting the instruction manual to a device you’ve been fumbling with for years.

Access to Support & Services: A formal diagnosis is often the key to unlocking supports.

For kids: This can mean Individualized Education Programs (IEPs) or 504 plans in school, access to therapies (speech, occupational, developmental), and other early intervention services.

For adults: This might mean workplace accommodations, access to specific mental health professionals who understand autism, disability benefits (in some cases), or specialized support groups.

Community & Connection: Finding out you're autistic can open the door to a vibrant, supportive community of other autistic people. Sharing experiences, finding solidarity, and learning from others who get it is invaluable. The online autistic community, especially on platforms like Tumblr, is a force to be reckoned with!

Informing Others & Self-Advocacy: A diagnosis can give you the language and confidence to explain your needs and differences to family, friends, educators, and employers. It’s a tool for self-advocacy.

Understanding Co-occurring Conditions: Autism often travels with friends like ADHD, anxiety, depression, OCD, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), and gastrointestinal issues. A diagnostic process can help identify these, leading to more comprehensive support.

Tumblr Truth Bomb: Self-diagnosis is widely accepted and validated within the autistic community, especially given the barriers (cost, accessibility, clinician bias) to formal diagnosis. This article focuses on the formal process, but that doesn't invalidate anyone's self-discovery journey. Many seek formal diagnosis for the reasons above, even after self-identifying.

Part 2: The "Who You Gonna Call?" - Professionals Involved in Diagnosis

Navigating the medical and psychological world can feel like trying to read a map written in ancient hieroglyphics. Here’s a breakdown of the types of professionals who might be involved:

For Children:

Pediatrician/Developmental Pediatrician: Often the first port of call. They can do initial developmental screenings (like the M-CHAT-R/F for toddlers) and refer you to specialists. Developmental pediatricians specialize in developmental differences and delays.

Child Psychologist/Neuropsychologist: These professionals are often the ones conducting the comprehensive diagnostic evaluations. They use standardized tests, observation, and interviews.

Child Psychiatrist: Can diagnose and also prescribe medication if co-occurring conditions like ADHD or anxiety need pharmacological support.

Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP) & Occupational Therapist (OT): While they don't typically give the primary autism diagnosis, their assessments of communication, sensory processing, and motor skills are vital parts of the overall picture and often contribute to the diagnostic team's decision.

For Adults:

Clinical Psychologist/Neuropsychologist: Similar to working with children, these professionals are often the primary diagnosticians for adults. They'll use adapted tools and place more emphasis on developmental history and self-report.

Psychiatrist: Can diagnose, especially if you're already seeing one for other mental health concerns. They can also help manage co-occurring conditions.

Neurologist: Less common for primary diagnosis unless there are other neurological concerns, but they can sometimes be involved.

General Practitioner (GP)/Primary Care Physician (PCP): Like pediatricians for kids, they can be a starting point for a referral, though their direct experience with adult autism diagnosis can vary wildly.

Value Add Tip: Look for professionals who specialize in autism, particularly adult autism if that's relevant. Ask about their experience, their approach (is it neurodiversity-affirming?), and what the assessment process entails. Don't be afraid to "interview" them!

Part 3: The "Assessment Arsenal" - What Actually Happens?

Okay, this is where it gets dense, but stay with me! The diagnostic process isn't just a quick quiz. It's a comprehensive evaluation designed to gather information from multiple sources.

Key Components (can vary by age and clinician):

Developmental History & Interviews:

For kids: Parents/caregivers will be interviewed extensively about the child's development from birth, social interactions, communication patterns, repetitive behaviors, interests, and sensory sensitivities. School reports and teacher input are also crucial.

For adults: You'll be asked about your childhood (as much as you can remember or gather from family), your social experiences, communication style, interests, sensory profile, and current challenges. Input from a partner or close family member can sometimes be helpful, but the focus is on your experience.

Direct Observation & Interaction:

This is where tools like the ADOS-2 (Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule, Second Edition) come in. It's a semi-structured, play-based (for kids) or conversation-based (for adults) assessment where the clinician observes social communication, interaction, and imaginative use of materials. It’s designed to create social situations where autistic traits might become apparent.

Tumblr Real Talk: The ADOS isn't foolproof. Masking (consciously or unconsciously suppressing autistic traits) can affect results, especially in girls, women, and AFAB individuals, or those who've learned to "perform" neurotypically. A good clinician understands this.

Standardized Questionnaires & Rating Scales:

ADI-R (Autism Diagnostic Interview-Revised): A structured interview often used with parents/caregivers, focusing on developmental history related to autism traits.

SRS-2 (Social Responsiveness Scale): Measures social awareness, social cognition, social communication, social motivation, and autistic mannerisms. Can be completed by parents, teachers, or self (for older individuals).

CARS-2 (Childhood Autism Rating Scale): Used to identify children with autism and determine symptom severity.

AQ (Autism Spectrum Quotient): A self-report questionnaire for adults.

RAADS-R (Ritvo Autism Asperger Diagnostic Scale-Revised): Another self-report for adults.

Many, many others! Clinicians pick tools based on age, suspected presentation, and their own expertise.

Cognitive & Language Assessments:

IQ/Cognitive Testing (e.g., WISC, WAIS, Stanford-Binet): To understand cognitive strengths and weaknesses. Autism can co-occur with any level of intellectual ability. Important Note: Autistic individuals can have "spiky profiles" – very high abilities in some areas and significant challenges in others. This doesn't always translate well on standardized IQ tests.

Speech and Language Evaluation: Assesses receptive (understanding) and expressive (using) language, pragmatics (social use of language), and nonverbal communication.

Adaptive Behavior Assessments (e.g., Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales):

Evaluates daily living skills, communication, social skills, and motor skills compared to age-matched peers. This helps understand the level of support an individual might need.

Sensory Profile: Questionnaires or discussions about sensitivities to light, sound, touch, taste, smell, and movement.

Medical & Neurological Examination (Sometimes): To rule out other medical conditions that might explain symptoms.

The Goal: To build a comprehensive picture. No single test "diagnoses" autism. It's about patterns of behavior, developmental history, and how these impact daily life, all considered against established diagnostic criteria (usually from the DSM-5-TR or ICD-11).

Tumblr Pro-Tip for Assessment Day:

Be Yourself: Easier said than done, especially if you mask. But try to be as authentic as possible.

Write Things Down: Beforehand, jot down examples of your experiences, challenges, and traits. It's easy to forget in the moment.

Bring a Support Person (if allowed/helpful): For moral support or to help recall information (especially for adult diagnosis if a parent or long-term partner is involved).

Ask Questions: If you don't understand something, ask!

It's Okay to Be Nervous/Overwhelmed: This is a big deal. Allow yourself to feel whatever you're feeling.

Part 4: The "Big Reveal" - Receiving the Report & Diagnosis

After all the assessments, there's usually a feedback session where the clinician discusses their findings and provides a written report. This report can be LONG and full of clinical jargon.

If Diagnosed Autistic:

The Emotional Cocktail: Get ready for a potential mix of:

Relief/Validation: "I'm not broken! There's a reason!"

Grief: For the life you might have imagined, for past struggles, for not knowing sooner.

Confusion/Overwhelm: "What does this mean? What now?"

Anger: At past misdiagnoses, at people who didn't understand.

Joy/Excitement: About connecting with a new community and understanding yourself better.

The Report: It will outline the tests done, your (or your child's) scores, observations, and how these meet (or don't meet) diagnostic criteria. It should also include recommendations. Ask the clinician to walk you through it in plain language.

If Not Diagnosed Autistic (but you strongly suspect it):

This can be incredibly invalidating and confusing.

Ask Why: Understand the clinician's reasoning. Did they consider masking? Are they experienced with subtle presentations or adult diagnosis?

Seek a Second Opinion: If you feel the assessment wasn't thorough or the clinician wasn't a good fit, you have the right to get another opinion, especially from someone specializing in the autistic presentation you identify with (e.g., autism in women/AFAB individuals, PDA profile).

Remember Self-Identification: Even without a formal "yes," if the autistic experience resonates deeply, your self-understanding is valid. The autistic community largely embraces this.

Part 5: The "Okay, So Now What?" - Navigating Next Steps

A diagnosis isn't an endpoint; it's a signpost. Here's where the journey really begins.

Breathe. Process. Feel.

Give yourself time. There's no "right" way to react. Talk to trusted friends, family, or a therapist. Journal. Engage in your special interests. Whatever helps you process.

Tumblr Hug: You are not alone in this. Many have walked this path.

Connect with the Autistic Community:

This is arguably one of the MOST important steps. Find autistic-led groups online (Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter/X, Reddit, Discord) or in person.

Listen to #ActuallyAutistic voices. Read blogs, watch videos, follow creators. They offer insights, support, and a sense of belonging that non-autistic professionals often can't.

Value Add: This community can help you decipher what "autism" actually means in lived experience, beyond clinical definitions.

Learn (and Unlearn):

Read books by autistic authors. Learn about neurodiversity as a paradigm.

Unlearn harmful stereotypes about autism (e.g., that all autistics are like Rain Man, lack empathy, or are non-verbal).

Explore concepts like masking, burnout, autistic inertia, monotropism, and special interests (or "spIns").

Consider Therapies & Supports (if needed/wanted):

Crucial Caveat: The goal of support should be to help the autistic person thrive as an autistic person, not to make them "less autistic" or "more neurotypical." Avoid any therapy aiming to "cure" or "normalize" autism.

Occupational Therapy (OT): Can help with sensory processing issues, motor skills, daily living skills, emotional regulation. Look for OTs with a neurodiversity-affirming approach.

Speech-Language Therapy (SLP): Can help with social communication (pragmatics), understanding non-literal language, alternative communication methods (AAC), and feeding issues. Again, ensure they respect autistic communication styles.

Mental Health Support (Therapy/Counseling): Many autistic people benefit from therapy to deal with anxiety, depression, trauma (often from navigating a neurotypical world), or to process their diagnosis. Seek therapists who are autism-knowledgeable AND affirming.

ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis): This is a highly controversial topic.

Traditional ABA has been criticized by many autistic adults for being compliance-based, traumatic, and aiming to suppress autistic behaviors (like stimming) rather than supporting underlying needs.

Some newer/modified forms claim to be more child-led and focus on functional skills.

Tumblr PSA: DO YOUR RESEARCH. Listen to autistic adults about their experiences with ABA. If considering it, scrutinize the provider's methods, goals, and respect for autistic identity. Many autistic advocates advise against it entirely or urge extreme caution.

Social Skills Groups: Can be helpful IF they focus on understanding social dynamics and providing tools, rather than forcing neurotypical masking. Autistic-led groups are often best.

Parent Training/Support (for parents of autistic kids): Focus on understanding your child's needs, adapting the environment, and advocating for them, not changing who they are.

Accommodations & Environmental Adjustments:

School: IEPs/504 plans can provide classroom accommodations (e.g., noise-canceling headphones, visual schedules, movement breaks, modified assignments).

Work: Reasonable accommodations might include a quieter workspace, flexible hours, written instructions, permission to use stim toys.

Home: Create sensory-friendly spaces. Reduce clutter. Establish routines if helpful. Honor sensory needs (e.g., specific food textures, clothing fabrics).

Embrace Strengths & Special Interests:

Autism isn't just a list of deficits! Autistic people often have incredible strengths: intense focus, attention to detail, loyalty, strong sense of justice, unique perspectives, deep knowledge in areas of interest.

Special interests are not "obsessions" to be discouraged; they are sources of joy, learning, regulation, and expertise! Lean into them!

Self-Advocacy & Setting Boundaries:

Learn to communicate your needs. It’s okay to say no, to ask for clarification, to leave overwhelming situations.

This is a skill that develops over time, especially if you've spent years masking.

Patience & Self-Compassion:

This is a marathon, not a sprint. There will be good days and hard days. Be kind to yourself. You're learning a new way of understanding yourself and navigating the world.

Part 6: The "Don't Forget This Stuff!" - Final Thoughts & Value Nuggets

Autism is a Spectrum, Not a Line: It's a diverse constellation of traits. "If you've met one autistic person, you've met one autistic person." Support needs vary wildly.

Masking is Real & Exhausting: Many autistics (especially women, AFAB individuals, and people of color) learn to camouflage their traits to fit in. This can delay diagnosis and lead to burnout.

Late Diagnosis is Valid: Discovering you're autistic as an adult is increasingly common and incredibly validating. It's never "too late."

Internalized Ableism is a Thing: You might have absorbed negative messages about autism or disability. Unpacking this is part of the journey.

Celebrate Neurodiversity: The idea that neurological differences like autism are natural variations in the human genome, not disorders to be cured. Embrace it!

Phew! We made it through the deep dive! Getting an autism diagnosis can feel like the end of one chapter and the very overwhelming beginning of another. But armed with knowledge, community, and self-compassion, it can also be the start of a more authentic, understood, and supported life.

What are your experiences with the diagnostic process? Any tips for folks just starting out? Spill the tea in the comments/reblogs! Let's support each other!

#Autism #Autism Diagnosis #ActuallyAutistic #Neurodiversity #Autistic Adults #Autistic Children #ASD #Sensory Processing #Special Interests #ADOS #Mental Health #Support #Self Advocacy #Tumblr Explains #Long Post #Worth The Read #Neurodivergent #Autism Acceptance

[justforbooks]

Pentagon’s Pizza Index has accurately predicted 21 global crises since 1983

As tensions rise in the Middle East, a curious, crowd-driven theory known as the “Pentagon Pizza Index” has caught fire online.

On June 12 and 13, users on X (formerly Twitter) reported a sudden spike in pizza deliveries near the Pentagon and Department of Defense in Washington, D.C., sparking speculation that the United States may be quietly entering crisis mode behind closed doors.

The timing? Just hours before Israel reportedly struck targets in Iran in response to Tehran’s earlier drone and missile attacks. And once again, pizza orders were booming.

Cold war roots of the pizza theory. What began as a Soviet spy trick is now a digital-age meme

The idea isn’t new. During the Cold War, Soviet operatives observed pizza delivery activity in Washington, believing it signalled crisis preparation inside U.S. intelligence circles. They coined it “Pizzint” — short for pizza intelligence.

This tactic entered public lore on 1 August 1990, when Frank Meeks, a Domino’s franchisee in Washington, noticed a sudden surge in deliveries to CIA buildings. The next day, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Meeks later told the Los Angeles Times he saw a similar pattern in December 1998 during the impeachment hearings of President Bill Clinton.

As former CNN Pentagon correspondent Wolf Blitzer once joked in 1990, “Bottom line for journalists: Always monitor the pizzas.”

WWIII warning: What is the Pentagon Pizza Index today? A meme, an OSINT tool, or a symptom of digital-age paranoia?

The modern Pentagon Pizza Index is tracked through open-source intelligence (OSINT) tools. These include Google Maps, which shows real-time restaurant activity, and social media observations. Pages like @PenPizzaReport on X have dedicated themselves to watching for abnormal patterns.

On 1 June 2025, the account posted, “With less than an hour to go before closing time, the Domino’s closest to the Pentagon is experiencing unusually high footfall.”

A few hours later, reports emerged of a fresh escalation between Israel and Iran. For believers in the theory, it was yet another sign that something bigger was underway.

The April 2024 pizza spike. A recent example that reignited interest

The most notable recent instance occurred on 13 April 2024, the night Iran launched a massive drone and missile strike against Israel. That same evening, screenshots from delivery platforms showed pizzerias around the Pentagon, White House, and Department of Defense tagged as “busier than usual.”

Multiple Papa John’s and Domino’s branches reported increased orders. The correlation prompted viral memes and renewed interest in the theory.

According to Euro News, a user on X posted on 13 June 2025, “The Pentagon Pizza Index is hiking.”

Inside the logic: Why pizza? Food, fatigue and national security

The concept is deceptively simple. When military staff face a national emergency, they work longer shifts and can’t leave their posts. They need quick, filling food — and pizza fits the bill.

Studies in behavioural psychology show that under stress, people prefer calorie-dense, familiar comfort foods. During high-alert operations, officials may work 16–20 hour days. That creates a visible consumption spike that outsiders can track.

And because platforms like Google and Uber Eats share real-time data on restaurant activity, amateur analysts can monitor these patterns — no hacking required.

World War III: Pizza as a proxy for preparedness. It’s not perfect, but it’s consistent

The Pentagon Pizza Index isn’t a foolproof system. It could easily be triggered by something mundane: a long staff meeting, a software glitch, or a nearby college football game.

That’s why modern OSINT analysts often cross-reference pizza spikes with other indicators — like unusual aircraft movements, ride-hailing activity, or power usage near government buildings. When multiple signs align, it suggests more than coincidence.

As a senior analyst put it: “You can’t bank a war call on a pizza. But if the Pentagon’s burning the midnight oil and feeding everyone, it’s worth a second look.”

Official silence, public curiosity. What the US government says — and doesn’t say

Despite the chatter online, the US government has made no mention of pizza deliveries as indicators of crisis.

Responding to speculation about American involvement in Israel’s airstrikes on Iran, Republican Senator Marco Rubio said:

“We are not involved in strikes against Iran, and our top priority is protecting American forces in the region. Israel advised us that they believe this action was necessary for its self-defence.”

Still, the Pentagon’s silence on the pizza theory hasn’t stopped internet users from speculating.

Humour meets anxiety in the age of digital vigilance

In an age where open-source tools let ordinary people track the movement of jets, ships, and even pizzas, the Pentagon Pizza Index sits at the bizarre intersection of humour and fear. It turns snack food into a warning system.

It’s also a reminder: not all intelligence requires a badge. Sometimes, the clue might be just down the road — in a Domino’s queue.

Whether you see it as absurd or insightful, one thing is clear: when the pizzas fly, people pay attention.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[tinybeetiny]

Build-A-Boyfriend Chapter 3: Grand Opening

I’ve been hungover all day… also.... I'm sorry that the chapters aren't as long as people like, that's just not really my style.

->Starring: AI!AteezxAfab!Reader ->Genre: Dystopian ->CW: none

Previous Part | Next Part

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Four days before the grand opening, Yn stood in the center of the lab, arms crossed, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

No anomalies.

No glitches.

Every log was clean. Every model responsive and compliant.

She tapped through the final diagnostics as her team moved like clockwork around her, prepping the remaining units for transfer. The companions were ready. Truly ready.

They’d done it. And for the first time in months, Yn allowed herself to believe it.

“They’re good to go,” she said aloud to the room, voice steadier than it had been in weeks. “Now we just make it beautiful.”

There was no dissent. No hesitation. Just quiet, collective relief.

By 6:00 a.m. on launch day, the streets surrounding Sector 1 in Hala City were already overflowing. Women of all ages lined the polished roads, executives in sleek visors, college students in chunky boots, older women with glowing canes, and mothers with daughters perched on their hips.

A massive countdown hovered above the building in glowing light particles.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One

When the number hit zero, the white-gold doors of the first Build-A-Boyfriend™ store slid open, and history, quite literally, stepped forward.

The inside of the flagship store was unlike anything anyone had seen, not in a simulation, not in VR, not even on the upper stream feeds.

It was clean but not cold, glowing with soft light that pulsed in time with ambient sound. Curved architecture, plants that weren’t quite real, air that smelled like skin and something floral underneath.

The crowd entered in waves, ushered by gentle AI voices projected from the ceiling:

“Welcome to Build-A-Boyfriend™, KQ Inc.’s most advanced consumer product to date. Please scan your wristband to begin. You are in complete control.”

Light pulsed with ambient music. The air carried soft notes of citrus and lavender. Walls curved inward like a safe embrace. It felt not like a store, but a sanctuary.

Just inside, a small platform rose, and the crowd hushed.

Standing atop it in a graphite suit that shimmered subtly with light-reactive tech, Vira Yun took the stage.

Her presence silenced everything. Not with fear. With awe.

She didn’t need a mic. The air itself amplified her words.

“Welcome, citizens of Hala City, and beyond. Today is not just a milestone for KQ Inc. It is a milestone for all of us, for womanhood, for autonomy, for intimacy on our terms. For centuries, we’ve been told to settle. To accept love as luck, not design. To believe that affection must be earned, that tenderness is a privilege, not a right. That era is over. Here, you are not asking. You are choosing. Each companion created within these walls is not simply a machine, but a mirror, one that reflects your needs, your softness, your strength, your fantasies, your fears. And we have given you the tools to shape that reflection without shame. This store is not about dependency. It’s about design. About saying: I know what I want, and I deserve to receive it, safely, sweetly, and with reverence. Let the world call it strange. Let them call it artificial. Because we know the truth: every human deserves to feel adored. And today, we’ve made that reality programmable.”

"Thank you. And welcome to Build-A-Boyfriend.”

From the observation deck, Yn stood quietly, tablet in hand, watching the dream unfold. She’d spent months writing code, assembling microprocessors, mapping facial expressions, and optimizing human simulation algorithms.

Now it was real. Now they were here, and it was working.

One of the first customers to walk in was 31-year-old office worker, Choi Yunji

She stepped forward, clutching her wristband like it might slip from her fingers. She’d told herself she was just coming to look. Just curious. Just research. But now that she was inside, face-to-face with a glowing interface, it felt more like a confession.

“Would you like an assistant, or would you prefer to design solo?” a soft voice asked beside her. Yunji turned. A young woman with slicked-back hair and a serene face smiled at her. The name tag read: Delin, Companion Consultant.

“I… I think I need help,” Yunji said.

“Of course,” Delin said warmly. “Let’s begin your experience.”

Station One: Body Frame

A holographic model appeared before them, neutral, faceless, softly breathing.

“Preferred height?”

“Taller than me. But not too much. I want to feel safe. Not… overpowered.”

“Understood.” Delin adjusted sliders with a flick of her fingers. The form shifted accordingly.

“Shoulders wider?” “Yes.” “Musculature?” “Athletic, not bulky.” “Skin tone?” “Honey-toned.”

Station Two: Facial Features

“I want kind eyes,” Yunji said. “And maybe a crooked smile. Something… imperfect.” “We can simulate asymmetry.” “What about moles?” “Placed to your liking.”

Station Three: Hair

“Longish. A little messy. Chestnut.” “Frizz simulation or polished strands?” “Frizz. I don’t want him looking like he came out of a factory.” Delin smiled. “Ironically, he did.”

Station Four: Personality Matrix

Yunji froze. The options felt too intimate.

“Start with a base? Empathetic, loyal, gentle, observant…” “Can I choose traits… I didn’t get to have before?” “Yes,” Delin said simply.

They adjusted levels: affection, boundaries, humor, attentiveness. A slider labeled “Emotional Recall Sensitivity” blinked softly.

“What’s this?”

“How deeply your companion internalizes memories related to you. It allows for more dynamic emotional bonding.” Yunji slid it to 80%.

Station Five: Wardrobe

“Something soft. Comfortable. Approachable.”

A cozy cardigan wrapped over a white tee. He looked like someone who would bring you tea without asking.

“Would you like to name your companion?” “…Call him Jaeyun.”

Her wristband lit up:

MODEL 9817-JAEYUN Estimated delivery: 3 hours Ownership rights granted to: C. Yunji

Yunji turned slowly, as if waking from a dream. Around her, other women embraced, laughed, shook — giddy or stunned. This was more than shopping. This was the return of the forbidden.

Around the Room

A pair of teenage twins argued over whether their boyfriends should look identical or opposites. A woman on her lunch break ordered her unit for home delivery with a bedtime story feature. Friends joked about setting up double dates and game nights with their new companions.

One customer squealed, “I’m going full fantasy, tall, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and a scar over the brow. I want him to look like he’s been through something.” Her friend “Big eyes, soft lips, librarian vibes. Another “I want dramatic jealousy in a soft voice. Like poetry with teeth.”

The store pulsed with joy, wonder, and something deeper. Yn felt it in her chest, pride and awe, washing over the logic-driven part of her that rarely gave way. She had helped build this future.

As the lavender glow settled over the quieting store, Yn remained in the observation wing, reviewing data. The launch had exceeded all projections.

She didn’t hear the door slide open behind her.

“Stunning, isn’t it?”

Vira stepped in, elegant as ever in graphite, her braid flawless, her voice smooth.

Yn straightened. “Yes, ma’am. It’s surreal.”

“We did it. You did it,” Vira said, standing beside her. “Revenue exceeded estimates by 37%. But more than that… I saw joy out there. Curiosity. Potential.”

Yn nodded. “The models held up. All systems within spec.”

“Good. Because in six days… we go even bigger.”

Yura turned. “The Ateez Line.”

Vira’s smile sharpened.

“Exactly. Eight elite units. Eight dreams. Fully interactive. Custom-coded. The most lifelike AI we’ve ever built. You’ve done beautiful work, Yn. Let’s make history again next week.”

She left as smoothly as she arrived. Yn exhaled, her fingers tightening around her tablet.

Six days.

Just six days.

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoongisgirl69 @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr

@honsans-atiny-24 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atzlordz @melanated-writersblock @hwasbabygirl

@sunnysidesins @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @seonghwaswifeuuuu @lezleeferguson-120 @mentalnerdgasms

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Who Broke the Internet? Part II

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH on in THURSDAY (May 15) at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

"Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" is my new podcast for CBC about the enshittogenic policy decisions that gave rise to enshittification. Episode two just dropped: "ctrl-ctrl-ctrl":

https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1353-the-naked-emperor/episode/16145640-ctrl-ctrl-ctrl

The thesis of the show is straightforward: the internet wasn't killed by ideological failings like "greed," nor by economic concepts like "network effects," nor by some cyclic force of history that drives towards "re-intermediation." Rather, all of these things were able to conquer the open, wild, creative internet because of policies that meant that companies that yielded to greed were able to harness network effects in order to re-intermediate the internet.

My enshittification work starts with the symptoms of enshittification, the procession of pathological changes we can observe as platform users and sellers. Stage one: platforms are good to their end users while locking them in. Stage two: platforms worsen things for those captive users in order to tempt in business customers – who they also lock in. Stage three: platforms squeeze those locked-in business customers (publishers, advertisers, performers, workers, drivers, etc), and leave behind only the smallest atoms of value that are needed to keep users and customers stuck to the system. All the value except for this mingy residue is funneled to shareholders and executives, and the system becomes a pile of shit.

This pattern is immediately recognizable as the one we've all experienced and continue to experience, from eBay taking away your right to sue when you're ripped off:

https://www.valueaddedresource.net/ebay-user-agreement-may-2025-arbitration/

Or Duolingo replacing human language instructors with AI, even though by definition language learners are not capable of identifying and correcting errors in AI-generated language instruction (if you knew more about a language than the AI, you wouldn't need Duolingo):

https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/the-ai-jobs-crisis-is-here-now

I could cite examples all day long, from companies as central as Amazon:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

To smarthome niche products like Sonos:

https://www.reuters.com/business/retail-consumer/sonos-ceo-patrick-spence-steps-down-after-app-update-debacle-2025-01-13/

To professional tools like Photoshop:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

To medical implants like artificial eyes:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/12/unsafe-at-any-speed/#this-is-literally-your-brain-on-capitalism

To the entire nursing profession:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/18/loose-flapping-ends/#luigi-has-a-point

To the cars on our streets:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

And the gig workers who drive them:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

There is clearly an epidemic – a pandemic – of enshittification, and cataloging the symptoms is important to tracking the spread of the disease. But if we're going to do something to stem the tide, we need to identify the contagion. What caused enshittification to take root, what allows it to spread, and who was patient zero?

That's where "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" comes in:

https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1353-the-naked-emperor

At root, "enshittification" is a story about constraints – not the bad things that platforms are doing now, but rather, the forces that stopped them from doing those things before. There are four of those constraints:

I. Competition: When we stopped enforcing antitrust law, we let companies buy their competitors ("It is better to buy than to compete" -M. Zuckerberg). That insulated companies from market-based punishments for enshittification, because a handful of large companies can enshittify in lockstep, matching each other antifeature for antifeature. You can't shop your way out of a monopoly.

II. Regulation: The collapse of tech into "five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four" (-T. Eastman) allowed the Big Tech cartel to collude to capture its regulators. Tech companies don't have to worry about governments stepping in to punish them for enshittificatory tactics, because the government is on Big Tech's side.

III. Labor: When tech workers were scarce and companies competed fiercely for their labor, they were able to resist demands to enshittify the products they created and cared about. But "I fight for the user," only works if you have power over your boss, and scarcity-derived power is brittle, crumbling as soon as labor supply catches up with demand (this is why tech bosses are so excited to repeat the story that AI can replace programmers – whether or not it's true, it is an effective way to gut scarcity-driven tech worker power). Without unions, tech worker power vanished.

IV. Interoperability: The same digital flexibility that lets tech companies pull the enshittifying bait-and-switch whereby prices, recommendations, and costs are constantly changing cuts both ways. Digital toolsmiths have always thwarted enshittification with ad- and tracker-blockers, alternative clients, scrapers, etc. In a world of infinitely flexible computers, every 10' high pile of shit summons a hacker with an 11' ladder.

This week's episode of "Who Broke the Internet?" focuses on those IP laws, specifically, the legislative history of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, a 1998 law whose Section 1201 bans any kind of disenshittifying mods and hacks.

We open the episode with Dmitry Skylarov being arrested at Def Con in 2001, after he gave a presentation explaining how he defeated the DRM on Adobe ebooks, so that ebook owners could move their books between devices and open them with different readers. Skylarov was a young father of two, a computer scientist, who found himself in the FBI's clutches, facing a lengthy prison sentence for telling an American audience that Adobe's product was defective, and explaining how to exploit its defects to let them read their own books.

Skylarov was the first person charged with a felony under DMCA 1201, and while the fact of his arrest shocked technically minded people at the time, it was hardly a surprise to anyone familiar with DMCA 1201. This was a law acting exactly as intended.

DMCA 1201 has its origins in the mid-1990s, when Al Gore was put in charge of the National Information Infrastructure program to demilitarize the internet and open it for civilian use (AKA the "Information Superhighway"). Gore came into conflict with Bruce Lehman, Bill Clinton's IP Czar, who proposed a long list of far-ranging, highly restrictive rules for the new internet, including an "anticircumvention" rule that would ban tampering with digital locks.

This was a pretty obscure and technical debate, but some people immediately grasped its significance. Pam Samuelson, the eminent Berkeley copyright scholar, raised the alarm, rallying a diverse coalition against Lehman's proposal. They won – Gore rejected Lehman's ideas and sent him packing. But Lehman didn't give up easily – he flew straight to Geneva, where he arm-twisted the UN's World Property Organization into passing two "internet treaties" that were virtually identical to the proposals that Gore had rejected. Then, Lehman went back to the USA and insisted that Congress had to overrule Gore and live up to its international obligations by adopting his law. As Lehman said – on some archival tape we were lucky to recover – he did "an end-run around Congress."

Lehman had been warned, in eye-watering detail, about the way that his rule protecting digital locks would turn into a system of private laws. Once a device was computerized, all a manufacturer needed to do was wrap it in a digital lock, and in that instant, it would become a literal felony of use that digital device in ways the manufacturer didn't like. It didn't matter if you were legally entitled to do something, like taking your car to an independent mechanic, refilling your ink cartridge, blocking tracking on Instagram, or reading your Kindle books on a Kobo device. The fact that tampering with digital locks was a crime, combined with the fact that you had to get around a digital lock to do these things, made these things illegal.

Lehman knew that this would happen. The fact that his law led – in just a few short years – to a computer scientist being locked up by the FBI for disclosing defects in a widely used consumer product, was absolutely foreseeable at the time Lehman was doing his Geneva two-step and "doing an end-run around Congress."

The point is that there were always greedy bosses, and since the turn of the century, they'd had the ability to use digital tools to enshittify their services. What changed wasn't the greed – it was the law. When Bruce Lehman disarmed every computer user, he rendered us helpless against the predatory instincts of anyone with a digital product or service, at a moment when everything was being digitized.

This week's episode recovers some of the lost history, an act I find very liberating. It's easy to feel like you're a prisoner of destiny, whose life is being shaped by vast, impersonal forces. But the enshittificatory torments of the modern digital age are the result of specific choices, made by named people, in living memory. Knowing who did this to us, and what they did, is the first step to undoing it.

In next week's episode, we'll tell you about the economic theories that created the "five giant websites filled with screenshots of the other four." We'll tell you who foisted those policies on us, and show you the bright line from them to the dominance of companies like Amazon. And we'll set up the conclusion, where we'll tell you how we'll wipe out the legacies of these monsters of history and kill the enshitternet.

Get "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" in whatever enshittified app you get your podcasts on (or on Antennapod, which is pretty great). Here's the RSS:

https://www.cbc.ca/podcasting/includes/nakedemperor.xml

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/13/ctrl-ctrl-ctrl/#free-dmitry

[mariacallous]

In late January, a warning spread through the London-based Facebook group Are We Dating the Same Guy?—but this post wasn’t about a bad date or a cheating ex. A connected network of male-dominated Telegram groups had surfaced, sharing and circulating nonconsensual intimate images of women. Their justification? Retaliation.

On January 23, users in the AWDTSG Facebook group began warning about hidden Telegram groups. Screenshots and TikTok videos surfaced, revealing public Telegram channels where users were sharing nonconsensual intimate images. Further investigation by WIRED identified additional channels linked to the network. By scraping thousands of messages from these groups, it became possible to analyze their content and the patterns of abuse.

AWDTSG, a sprawling web of over 150 regional forums across Facebook alone, with roughly 3 million members worldwide, was designed by Paolo Sanchez in 2022 in New York as a space for women to share warnings about predatory men. But its rapid growth made it a target. Critics argue that the format allows unverified accusations to spiral. Some men have responded with at least three defamation lawsuits filed in recent years against members, administrators, and even Meta, Facebook’s parent company. Others took a different route: organized digital harassment.

Primarily using Telegram group data made available through Telemetr.io, a Telegram analytics tool, WIRED analyzed more than 3,500 messages from a Telegram group linked to a larger misogynistic revenge network. Over 24 hours, WIRED observed users systematically tracking, doxing, and degrading women from AWDTSG, circulating nonconsensual images, phone numbers, usernames, and location data.

From January 26 to 27, the chats became a breeding ground for misogynistic, racist, sexual digital abuse of women, with women of color bearing the brunt of the targeted harassment and abuse. Thousands of users encouraged each other to share nonconsensual intimate images, often referred to as “revenge porn,” and requested and circulated women’s phone numbers, usernames, locations, and other personal identifiers.

As women from AWDTSG began infiltrating the Telegram group, at least one user grew suspicious: “These lot just tryna get back at us for exposing them.”

When women on Facebook tried to alert others of the risk of doxing and leaks of their intimate content, AWDTSG moderators removed their posts. (The group’s moderators did not respond to multiple requests for comment.) Meanwhile, men who had previously coordinated through their own Facebook groups like “Are We Dating the Same Girl” shifted their operations in late January to Telegram's more permissive environment. Their message was clear: If they can do it, so can we.

"In the eyes of some of these men, this is a necessary act of defense against a kind of hostile feminism that they believe is out to ruin their lives," says Carl Miller, cofounder of the Center for the Analysis of Social Media and host of the podcast Kill List.

The dozen Telegram groups that WIRED has identified are part of a broader digital ecosystem often referred to as the manosphere, an online network of forums, influencers, and communities that perpetuate misogynistic ideologies.

“Highly isolated online spaces start reinforcing their own worldviews, pulling further and further from the mainstream, and in doing so, legitimizing things that would be unthinkable offline,” Miller says. “Eventually, what was once unthinkable becomes the norm.”

This cycle of reinforcement plays out across multiple platforms. Facebook forums act as the first point of contact, TikTok amplifies the rhetoric in publicly available videos, and Telegram is used to enable illicit activity. The result? A self-sustaining network of harassment that thrives on digital anonymity.

TikTok amplified discussions around the Telegram groups. WIRED reviewed 12 videos in which creators, of all genders, discussed, joked about, or berated the Telegram groups. In the comments section of these videos, users shared invitation links to public and private groups and some public channels on Telegram, making them accessible to a wider audience. While TikTok was not the primary platform for harassment, discussions about the Telegram groups spread there, and in some cases users explicitly acknowledged their illegality.

TikTok tells WIRED that its Community Guidelines prohibit image-based sexual abuse, sexual harassment, and nonconsensual sexual acts, and that violations result in removals and possible account bans. They also stated that TikTok removes links directing people to content that violates its policies and that it continues to invest in Trust and Safety operations.

Intentionally or not, the algorithms powering social media platforms like Facebook can amplify misogynistic content. Hate-driven engagement fuels growth, pulling new users into these communities through viral trends, suggested content, and comment-section recruitment.

As people caught notice on Facebook and TikTok and started reporting the Telegram groups, they didn’t disappear—they simply rebranded. Reactionary groups quickly emerged, signaling that members knew they were being watched but had no intention of stopping. Inside, messages revealed a clear awareness of the risks: Users knew they were breaking the law. They just didn’t care, according to chat logs reviewed by WIRED. To absolve themselves, one user wrote, “I do not condone im [simply] here to regulate rules,” while another shared a link to a statement that said: “I am here for only entertainment purposes only and I don’t support any illegal activities.”

Meta did not respond to a request for comment.

Messages from the Telegram group WIRED analyzed show that some chats became hyper-localized, dividing London into four regions to make harassment even more targeted. Members casually sought access to other city-based groups: “Who’s got brum link?” and “Manny link tho?”—British slang referring to Birmingham and Manchester. They weren’t just looking for gossip. “Any info from west?” one user asked, while another requested, “What’s her @?”— hunting for a woman’s social media handle, a first step to tracking her online activity.

The chat logs further reveal how women were discussed as commodities. “She a freak, I’ll give her that,” one user wrote. Another added, “Beautiful. Hide her from me.” Others encouraged sharing explicit material: “Sharing is caring, don’t be greedy.”

Members also bragged about sexual exploits, using coded language to reference encounters in specific locations, and spread degrading, racial abuse, predominantly targeting Black women.

Once a woman was mentioned, her privacy was permanently compromised. Users frequently shared social media handles, which led other members to contact her—soliciting intimate images or sending disparaging texts.

Anonymity can be a protective tool for women navigating online harassment. But it can also be embraced by bad actors who use the same structures to evade accountability.

"It’s ironic," Miller says. "The very privacy structures that women use to protect themselves are being turned against them."

The rise of unmoderated spaces like the abusive Telegram groups makes it nearly impossible to trace perpetrators, exposing a systemic failure in law enforcement and regulation. Without clear jurisdiction or oversight, platforms are able to sidestep accountability.

Sophie Mortimer, manager of the UK-based Revenge Porn Helpline, warned that Telegram has become one of the biggest threats to online safety. She says that the UK charity’s reports to Telegram of nonconsensual intimate image abuse are ignored. “We would consider them to be noncompliant to our requests,” she says. Telegram, however, says it received only “about 10 piece of content” from the Revenge Porn Helpline, “all of which were removed.” Mortimer did not yet respond to WIRED’s questions about the veracity of Telegram’s claims.

Despite recent updates to the UK’s Online Safety Act, legal enforcement of online abuse remains weak. An October 2024 report from the UK-based charity The Cyber Helpline shows that cybercrime victims face significant barriers in reporting abuse, and justice for online crimes is seven times less likely than for offline crimes.

"There’s still this long-standing idea that cybercrime doesn’t have real consequences," says Charlotte Hooper, head of operations of The Cyber Helpline, which helps support victims of cybercrime. "But if you look at victim studies, cybercrime is just as—if not more—psychologically damaging than physical crime."

A Telegram spokesperson tells WIRED that its moderators use “custom AI and machine learning tools” to remove content that violates the platform's rules, “including nonconsensual pornography and doxing.”

“As a result of Telegram's proactive moderation and response to reports, moderators remove millions of pieces of harmful content each day,” the spokesperson says.

Hooper says that survivors of digital harassment often change jobs, move cities, or even retreat from public life due to the trauma of being targeted online. The systemic failure to recognize these cases as serious crimes allows perpetrators to continue operating with impunity.

Yet, as these networks grow more interwoven, social media companies have failed to adequately address gaps in moderation.

Telegram, despite its estimated 950 million monthly active users worldwide, claims it’s too small to qualify as a “Very Large Online Platform” under the European Union’s Digital Service Act, allowing it to sidestep certain regulatory scrutiny. “Telegram takes its responsibilities under the DSA seriously and is in constant communication with the European Commission,” a company spokesperson said.

In the UK, several civil society groups have expressed concern about the use of large private Telegram groups, which allow up to 200,000 members. These groups exploit a loophole by operating under the guise of “private” communication to circumvent legal requirements for removing illegal content, including nonconsensual intimate images.

Without stronger regulation, online abuse will continue to evolve, adapting to new platforms and evading scrutiny.

The digital spaces meant to safeguard privacy are now incubating its most invasive violations. These networks aren’t just growing—they’re adapting, spreading across platforms, and learning how to evade accountability.

[demensrage]

d for deep investigation ⚊ • . with albedo

summary: your altruistic personality always leads you to be a people pleaser, that's why you didn't refuse when your coworker asked you to help him with his little anatomy research

cw: unestablished relationship, fingering, oral (f. receiving), blindfold play, protected, slight power play, nothing explicir.

wordcount: 4.3k

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit

© demensrage 2024. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

The atmosphere in Albedo's research room always had an air of tranquility, almost mystical, as if time flowed differently within its walls. The alchemy tools were meticulously arranged on the stone tables, and jars filled with ingredients of all kinds gleamed under the dim light of the lamps. You sat there, observing the familiar space, but your mind couldn’t stop wandering. What could be so urgent that Albedo had sent you a letter so suddenly?

You knew your companion had a tendency to oscillate between the most mundane requests and those of overwhelming complexity. You had spent entire days helping him collect simple plant samples or calibrate his tools, only to find yourself later submerged in arcane experiments that bordered on the limits of science and magic. Nothing was predictable with Albedo, and that, in part, was what kept your curiosity always alert.

The echo of your own thoughts resonated in the room as you patiently waited for his arrival. The letter you received that morning still rested in your pocket, and every now and then, you touched it, as if by doing so, you could obtain some additional clue. “It’s urgent,” he had written, but without any further details. Albedo wasn’t one to be swayed by emotions or unnecessary alarms, so if he considered it urgent, it had to be something truly important.

As soon as Albedo entered the room, you stood up immediately, almost without thinking. You didn’t want him to think you had been wasting time, even if all you had done was wait. You always strove to meet his expectations, and though he never directly asked you to, you felt that internal pressure to measure up, to be useful. You were surprised at how quickly you had reacted, but it was natural for you.

Albedo approached with his usual calm, and his gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if analyzing your every move, just as he always did. It wasn’t a critical look, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being evaluated, which only increased your desire to be as perfect as possible in every small detail.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said, his voice soft but with a touch of seriousness. “I have something important to do, and I need you for it.”

There was something in the way he said it, something deeper than the words themselves. Your breathing slowed slightly, as if your body sensed that the conversation was about to take an unexpected turn. Albedo moved toward one of the tables, and you watched as his hands slid gently over the instruments. There were no potion jars or herbs this time, just sheets of paper and some sketches, but as you got closer, you noticed that the drawings were not of plants or creatures. They were anatomical sketches, detailed and meticulous.

As you approached the table to examine the drawings more closely, something in them stopped you cold. These were not simple anatomical studies like the ones you had seen before. You recognized the proportions, the delicately drawn lines. It was your body depicted on those pages, recreated with a precision that left you breathless. Albedo had spent hours, perhaps days, studying every detail of your figure, every muscle, every curve, with a meticulousness that was both scientific and... personal.

Your mind began connecting the dots, a subtle current of understanding coursing through your body. Suddenly, all those times Albedo had touched you, those soft brushes on your hands, on your arms, took on a new meaning. There was always an excuse: adjusting a tool, helping you hold a jar, correcting your posture while you worked. But now you understood. Those small touches hadn’t been random; they had been pretexts, opportunities to observe, to learn from you, to study every inch of your skin with a purpose that you were only now beginning to comprehend.

“I have something important to do, and I need you for it.”

Albedo’s words echoed in your head, clearer now. It hadn’t been a request but a declaration of the inevitable. He had already decided, and you were destined to be part of it. His eyes, normally so calm, now seemed filled with an almost unsettling fascination, his pupils dilated as he observed you, as if he was anticipating something only he could see clearly.

“I see you’ve noticed already,” Albedo said, his voice soft but laden with a meaning you couldn’t ignore. There was no need for him to explain; everything was clear now. This wasn’t just a study of human anatomy. It was a study of you.

The silence between the two of you grew denser, almost tangible. Your thoughts raced wildly, but at the same time, something kept you anchored in that room, in that strange and subtle dynamic between the two of you. You had always wanted to be useful, to live up to Albedo’s expectations, and now, here you were, facing a situation you hadn’t anticipated, but one that had seemed inevitable from the start.

"It’s a study that requires something more... practical,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. He hadn’t touched you again since you entered the room, but now you understood that he didn’t need to. He already knew you better than you had imagined.

And as his words hung in the air, you knew that the line between apprentice and experiment had blurred, that in this “delicate process” he mentioned, you were both subject and collaborator.

"How practical?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you watched him approach slowly. The air became thicker, as if everything in the room had frozen except for him, moving with the calculated calm that had always defined him.

Albedo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked around you, circling you with the same precision he applied in his experiments, his steps soft yet firm, making you feel like you were the center of his attention in a way you had never experienced before. His presence felt more intense, almost as if something within him had been waiting to be released.

When he positioned himself behind you, your heart began to beat faster, and before you could fully process the sensation, you felt his hands rise toward your hair. Gently, he brushed aside the strands that fell across your neck, the touch of his fingers sending a slight shiver down your spine.

The pads of his fingers grazed your skin, just a faint caress, but enough to make your breathing slow, more aware of every movement. "As practical as necessary," he murmured by your ear, his voice low, filled with the same intensity you had seen in his eyes.

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, studying every small detail with a familiarity that now felt undeniable. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, not with the subtle pretexts he always found to touch you. But this time there were no excuses, no tools or experiments to justify it. This time, the contact was direct, raw, and for the first time, you were completely aware of the nature of his attention.

“I suppose I can help you,” you said, though your words came with a slight frown, reflecting the hesitation creeping in. Albedo, ever observant, noticed that moment of doubt in your voice, in your expression. His hands, still resting on your neck, stopped entirely, as if he wanted to ensure you understood the gravity of what he was asking.

He didn’t move further. Instead, his eyes focused on yours, searching for something beyond mere verbal acceptance. “I want you to fully agree to this,” he said in a quieter tone, almost like an intimate whisper, but laced with seriousness. You knew that behind his curiosity and scientific studies lay an ethic he would never cross without your explicit consent. Though he could be cold and distant in many ways, this wasn’t one of them.

The moment stretched on, his words suspended between the two of you like an open question, yet charged with intention. He needed to be sure not just that you were allowing him to continue, but that you were willing, that you understood the implications of his request. He didn’t just want your help; he wanted your total approval, your voluntary submission to his study.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the lingering touch of his fingers still burned softly on your skin, a constant reminder of what he was asking of you. The sketches of your body still lay on the table, and the image of them remained fixed in your mind. This wasn’t just another anatomical study—it was something far more personal. And now it was clear that he knew. He knew you had noticed his touches, his excuses... and now everything was out in the open.

“Will you let me use your body?” Albedo whispered against your ear, his voice low and enveloping, as if the very air had stopped to listen to his proposal. "Will you give it to me at my mercy? I promise to take care of you, I always do."

There was a strange truth in his words, a certainty you had never questioned before. Albedo had always protected you, in subtle but constant ways. In every experiment, in every lesson, he had always ensured you were safe. He had given you his knowledge, his time, and now... he was asking for something more.

“Yes,” you finally whispered, barely recognizing your own voice. The word came out softer than you had expected, but once you said it, you knew it was what you wanted. Not just from a need to please him, not just from the desire to help him in his research, but for something deeper, something that had been growing inside you without you realizing it.

Albedo remained silent for a moment, as if letting the decision settle between the two of you. Then, you felt the atmosphere change, the intensity in his gaze, in his gestures, taking on a new dimension. His hand, still resting on your neck, slid down, caressing the base of your nape with a care that felt almost reverent. There was no rush in his movements, only infinite patience, as if he were savoring every second of your consent.

"Good," he said softly, his tone lower, almost like an intimate whisper that only you could hear. "I knew I could count on you."

You were sitting naked in front of him, a blindfold covering your eyes, immersed in the dimness of the research room. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and tension, and although you couldn’t see, your other senses became sharper. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching against the paper, the soft scrape of ink flowing over the canvas. Each stroke seemed to vibrate in the air, as if telling a story that only he could understand.

Intrigue enveloped you, but the anticipation intensified as you felt his footsteps approach you. His presence was palpable, a contrast to the darkness surrounding you.

The way his hands enveloped your breasts was both delicate and possessive, an electrifying combination that sent waves of heat throughout your body. You could feel the softness of his skin against yours, the warmth of his palms fitting perfectly to your curves. Each movement was a game of exploration, as if he were discovering uncharted territory.

At first, there was a kind of reverence in his touch, as if he were trying to memorize every contour, every texture. But as his hands moved with more confidence, that reverence transformed into palpable desire. His fingers sank into your skin, caressing you with an intensity that made your breathing become erratic. Each stroke was a small flash of pleasure, each caress a reminder of your vulnerability and submission.

The blindfold over your eyes heightened every sensation; the lack of sight made you more aware of his presence, of his warmth, of how his body drew closer to yours.

Several gasps escaped your lips as his fingers tugged at your nipples, a gesture as unexpected as it was pleasurable that left you trembling. “I’ve heard that a certain part of you is sensitive,” he murmured, his voice low and controlled, almost clinical, but with an intensity that hinted at a deeper desire.

It wasn’t just an observation, it was an affirmation that pierced your skin and lit a flame within you. Albedo’s touch, once meticulous and calculated, had become firmer, more intentional. And as his fingers continued to play with your nipples, pulling and kneading with that perfect combination of pressure and subtlety, heat began to course through your body.

You knew that Albedo wasn’t like the others. While the others simply passed through your life without further ado, he only cared about you. And in that moment, there was no one else in his world, no one else in his mind, only you. His concentration, his attention, was focused entirely on your body, on every reaction he managed to elicit from you with his expert caresses.

You felt the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, and that feeling of shame, mixed with excitement, left you breathless. The blush that stained your skin was only an external reflection of the growing desire that took hold of you, one that was beginning to feel impossible to ignore. Moisture pooled between your legs, clear evidence of what his touch was causing in you.

The kisses on your neck came unexpectedly, soft at first, like a barely perceptible whisper on your skin. Albedo, with a precision that only he could have, knew exactly where to place each kiss, as if he had studied every corner of your body in advance. His warm breath slid over your skin, causing an electric current to run up your spine.

As his lips continued to trace a burning path over your neck, his hands began to slowly slide downwards, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The way Albedo moved, with such precision and control, made every second feel like an eternity, every touch a reminder that you were completely under his influence.

When his hands finally reached your belly, they paused for a moment, as if he wanted to make you aware of what was about to happen. The air between you became thick, charged with expectation, and although you couldn't see him because of the blindfold on your eyes, you felt every movement, every breath he took.

Then, with the same confidence he had shown from the beginning, his fingers continued their descent, until they gently brushed the moisture that had gathered between your legs. The first contact was delicate, almost experimental, as if he were testing the effect he had on you. But as soon as he noticed your body's immediate response, the tension that built up in your thighs, his movements became more determined.

His fingers entered without warning, curling immediately with clear intent. There was no room for gentleness. Albedo knew what he was looking for and found it quickly, his movements precise, but with a firmness that stole your breath.

Every time his fingers flexed inside you, they hit that spot that lit an insatiable fire inside you. He didn't stop, he didn't hesitate. His pace increased mercilessly, with one goal: to take you to the edge.

Gasps escaped your throat, as his hand kept you immobilized. There was no escape. Heat grew violently in your belly, as his fingers continued to work, relentless, curling at the perfect angle to draw out every moan from you.

He knelt in front of you with crushing confidence, his hands still working relentlessly, keeping you trapped in a spiral of pleasure. The intensity of his movements made you tremble, but Albedo showed no sign of stopping. From this new position, he was in complete control, and he knew it.

“You feel so warm,” Albedo murmured in a husky voice, his breath caressing the skin of your thighs as his fingers continued to work inside you, never slowing down. The firmness of his touch and the way his words reached you made the heat in your body rise uncontrollably, enveloping you completely.

One of his hands held your legs apart with a firm, almost dominant force, making sure you couldn’t move or close up. The control he exerted over your body was absolute, and he did it effortlessly, as if it were the most natural thing for him. His grip tightened every time your legs trembled, resisting the urge to close up at the intensity of his caresses.

As his fingers sank again and again inside you, his other hand held your thigh firmly, preventing any attempt to push you away, as if you were his most fascinating experiment. There was no escape, and deep down, you didn’t want to escape.

“You sure taste delicious,” Albedo murmured, his lips brushing the skin of your belly with a heat that made you arch involuntarily. Every kiss he planted on your skin felt like a promise, an anticipation that burned you from within. His tongue barely touched your skin, and the tingle spread like liquid fire through your body.

“Let me taste you, precious?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, a dark, hungry glint in his eyes as his lips came dangerously close to the place you wanted him most.

The lump in your throat barely let you speak, but your lips formed the words almost instinctively. “Yes… do it.” The hesitation you felt before vanished completely, replaced by the all-consuming heat. Your body no longer belonged to you, and you knew it.

Shamelessly, you spread your legs wider, offering yourself without any reservation, making it clear that you were completely at his mercy. The reaction was immediate: a spark of satisfaction crossed his eyes at the sight of your total submission.

He knew exactly what you wanted, he had seen it in the way your legs spread wider, offering themselves without any shame, and he was more than willing to give it to you. There was no rush in his movements; Albedo enjoyed prolonging the moment, savoring the anticipation that grew between you. His smile was just a trace of the satisfaction he felt at having you like this, at his mercy, vulnerable and exposed before him.

Without taking his gaze off of you, he leaned forward, letting his breath brush your skin, sending shivers throughout your body. The first touch of his mouth was slow, almost torturous, as if he wanted to make you beg for more, but deep down you knew you didn’t have to ask for it. Albedo had already decided he would give it to you, he was just enjoying the control he had over your every reaction.

When he finally let his lips reach you, there was no more gentleness. It was with a mix of intensity and hunger, as if he was determined to explore every corner of your body until you couldn't hold back your cries of pleasure.

His lips moved with precision, exploring every corner of you as if he were mapping out a map, as if every shudder and moan he elicited was a confirmation of his success. There was no softness in his touch, only a hungry intensity that left you trembling, at the mercy of his calculated movements and absolute dominance over your body.

Albedo alternated between caresses and kisses, his tongue following a relentless rhythm that drew uncontrollable gasps from your lips. Your entire body arched beneath him, seeking him out, while his hands kept your hips fixed, making sure you couldn't escape the growing pressure building inside you.

It was like he knew exactly how far to push you, like he was playing with your limits just to watch you succumb, giving you everything you wanted without giving you control over when or how you would receive it. And in that moment, amidst the heat that washed over you, you realized that he had been waiting for this, to see you like this—given over, lost in the pleasure he himself gave you, without reservations or barriers.

Unable to contain yourself, you buried your hands in his hair, holding on tight as your hips instinctively moved against his mouth. Pleasure built up with every flick of his tongue, every firm caress of his lips, and you could no longer maintain your composure. Your fingers tangled in his golden locks, tugging lightly, searching for something to hold on to as he continued to devour you mercilessly. Feeling your touch, Albedo let out a soft growl against you, the vibration sending a shiver through your entire body. His hands, strong and sure, held your legs open, making sure you couldn't escape or resist the pleasure he offered you.

"Delicious… oh fuck, so delicious," Albedo murmured against your skin, his deep, raspy voice sending waves of heat straight to your core. Every word that escaped his lips seemed to intensify the fire already consuming you, as if the sound of his pleasure only fueled your own.

With each word he spoke, the heat inside you grew, becoming almost unbearable. Albedo didn't stop; on the contrary, he reveled in your body's response, as if your pleasure was his greatest triumph. His hands moved with a confidence that made you feel even more exposed, each caress meticulously calculated, each movement designed to push you beyond your limits.

His lips and tongue explored mercilessly, as his words of praise became a mantra that echoed in your mind. "You're perfect," he whispered between kisses, his warm breath sending sparks across your skin. The combination of his voice with the touch of his mouth was intoxicating, like a drug that kept you lost in a sea of ​​pleasure, drowning you in sensations you didn't know could exist.

You were completely drunk with pleasure, every touch and every word from Albedo immersing you further into a state of euphoria. Every caress was like a bolt of electricity running through your body, making all your senses explode. The outside world faded away, and it was just you and him in that room, trapped in a bubble of intense sensations.

Gasps escaped your lips without you being able to control them, and every time his tongue slid over your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. "I can't… oh, Albedo, I can't take it anymore," you murmured, feeling yourself approaching a climax that threatened to overwhelm you. But he only smiled with a mischievous confidence, as if he knew he was far from allowing you rest.

“That’s just the beginning,” he replied in a deep tone, his hands gripping you with a possessive force. The way he moved, with the certainty that he had you under his control, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every time it seemed like you might break free, he held you back, taking your desire to new heights, relishing every moment of your surrender.

The intensity was increasing, every brush of his lips a spark that lit the fire inside you. His devotion to you felt palpable, as if every caress, every kiss, was designed to make you feel more than you had ever felt before. The line between pleasure and pain blurred; the outside world faded away as you gave yourself over completely to the experience.

“You like it, precious?” Albedo whispered, his voice a soft murmur between your moans, and you could only nod, unable to articulate a coherent response. All you could do was feel, let each wave of pleasure drag you further away from reality. His fingers moved masterfully, exploring every part of you, unleashing a torrent of sensations that kept you on the edge of climax, without him letting you fall.

“More… I need more,” you managed to whisper between gasps, feeling the tension in your body reach unbearable levels. He smiled, an expression of triumph that only fueled your desire. Albedo knew exactly what he was doing; he knew every corner of your body and how to take you to the limits of your pleasure.

With one last flick of his tongue, he brought you to the edge of madness, and before you could stop yourself, a cry of pleasure escaped your lips, releasing the pressure that had been building up inside you. The explosion of sensations left you trembling, lost in a sea of ​​euphoria, as you let yourself be carried away by the current of your own desire, knowing that he had brought you to this point.

But Albedo wasn't done with you, and you knew it. Even though your body was shaking, exhausted from the climax you had just experienced, he showed no signs of stopping. His eyes locked on yours, through the blindfold that still covered your vision, as if he could see past your fatigue, as if he knew you could still give him more.

"I've just begun," he murmured, his voice firm and full of determination, as his hands slid down your body again, this time with more force, with an intensity that made you feel like you were being molded by him, at his whim. His fingers invaded you again, moving with a more relentless rhythm, not allowing you a break, while his lips rested on yours, taking what he wanted without asking for it.

With each passing second you felt more overwhelmed, trapped between exhaustion and the desire to continue pleasing him. Your body, hypersensitive, responded to every touch, to every pressure of his hands. The pleasure built up again, faster this time, turning you back into a puppet under his control.

"I'm going to take you to the edge, precious," he promised, his words a low whisper against your ear, just before he sank his fingers into your pussy again.

[sandplague]

(i'll just copy & paste the text here)

Pathologic 3 FAQ #1

Answers to frequently asked questions and a few hints about what’s coming next!

Hey hey!

Very soon, we’ll be sharing the first details about the game, starting with the soundtrack: on November 4th, we’re taking part in Save and Sound, an annual event dedicated to sound design and soundtracks in video games.

We know the wait has been long, and we want to thank you for the warm reception of the announcement. Today, we’d like to clarify a few points that we often see coming up in community discussions about the Pathologic 3 announcement.

So, let’s get started!

Q: What happened to the route for Pathologic 2? Has it evolved into a sequel?

A: Yes, that’s exactly what happened: the game simply grew beyond our concept of DLC—it will have different gameplay and entirely new features. Instead of one game with three playthroughs using the same gameplay but different storylines (as in the original 2005 release and the Classic HD remaster), we’re creating three fully developed games with distinct gameplay and significant differences in narrative.

Now, these are truly three separate protagonists with unique worldviews, perceptions of reality, and distinct tools. From a gameplay perspective, this means three different approaches and a complete rethinking of the original scripts.

One storyline was released in 2019, centered on the Haruspex. It was a large game that took much more time and work than initially planned. For publishing reasons, it was titled Pathologic 2.

Pathologic 3 is a new, full-fledged game focused on the Bachelor. The title was chosen to avoid confusion, making it clear that this is not a DLC but a complete game with a similar playtime.

Q: What about the Changeling?

A: Finally, there’s the Changeling, but we’d prefer not to make promises prematurely, so we’ll return to her when there’s more to share.

Moving forward, we plan to stick to this approach. We understand that premature promises about the previous Pathologic led to unfulfilled expectations. We apologize for that and don’t want to mislead you in the future. The developer should not be an unreliable narrator—unlike his characters.

Q: How do Pathologic 2 and Pathologic 3 differ?

A: The protagonists! And that’s only half-joking. The main idea and reason for dividing these games is that the Haruspex and the Bachelor are very different characters. The further we developed the Bachelor’s story, the clearer this became. We didn’t want to compromise by making the game a “safer” rework of the original script, so we reimagined the core gameplay loop:

The Haruspex needed to survive, fight, scavenge, rummage through garbage for scraps of bread, and try to save those he held dear along the way. The Bachelor is a man of intellect. Survival is not his primary concern; his goals go beyond what one lifetime could contain. He needs to think, formulate theories, and gather evidence. Ultimately, he must issue commands and observe the results. This distinction will be emphasized through gameplay, mechanics, objectives, soundtrack, and so on.

After Save and Sound, we plan to return later this year to show you what we mean. As they say, "Show, don’t tell."

Q: Who will receive game keys?

A: We remember our commitments to those who supported us during the fundraising stage nearly ten years ago, so we will provide keys to:

Kickstarter backers and other platforms where support for the game was available during the fundraising stage

Backers from 2014 and 2015

Also, backers entitled to two copies will receive two keys. We’ll share details on how to claim keys closer to release.

Q: Will the new game have its own artbook?

A: At the moment, we’re not planning a physical one, but we might create a digital artbook for the Supporter Pack. We're not sure yet!

Q: Which languages will the game be localized into, including text and voice-over?

A: We definitely plan to localize into English and Russian, and we’re considering Brazilian Portuguese, German, and Simplified Chinese. We’ll confirm languages closer to launch.

Q: Will the Russian title of Pathologic 3 remain?

A: Yes, we’re still considering options. Current ideas include “Finally,” “See, You Didn’t Believe Us,” and “Sorry for the Long Wait.”

Q: Will the game be available on GOG and other stores?

A: We’ll know closer to release, but it’ll likely be available on all platforms where Pathologic 2 can be found.

Q: Will preorders be available?

A: No.

Q: What platforms other than PC are planned for release?

A: We’re planning releases for PS5 and Xbox S/X, likely following the PC release.

Q: What engine is the game being developed in?

A: The same engine as Pathologic 2: Unity.

Q: Will the same voice actors return for Pathologic 3?

A: Yes, we’ll bring back the same actors from Pathologic 2, or at least, we’ll do our best.

We’ve prepared a big surprise for you in the coming months, so please add us to your Steam wishlist!

Until then, we’ll see you on November 4th!

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows: Chapter 4 - Unexpected Friendship

The air buzzed with excitement as the audience erupted in applause, their cheers echoing off the high ceilings of the grand theater. Aventurine, with his flamboyant style and magnetic presence, commanded the stage, seamlessly weaving together an intricate tapestry of dance and music. His performance was a testament to his talent, captivating those lucky enough to witness it.

In stark contrast to the exhilaration surrounding him, [Name] sat slumped against the wall in the waiting room, staring blankly at the floor. Shadows danced across their features as flickering lights from the stage illuminated their downturned face. The cheers and music felt distant, muffled by the weight of grief and anxiety pressing down on their chest. Robin’s death loomed heavy in their mind, a constant reminder of the fragility of life in this brutal competition.

Across the room, Ratio leaned against the doorframe, his muscular build casting a long shadow. He observed the other contestants milling about, but his focus remained fixed on [Name]. While most were lost in conversations or preparing for their own performances, [Name] was isolated in their sorrow, an island amidst a sea of vibrant life.

Ratio knew that it was time to act. He pushed himself off the frame and walked over to [Name], his presence commanding but measured. “You seem lost in thought,” he remarked, his voice steady and confident. “As though the world is pressing down on your shoulders. Would you care to share what’s on your mind?”

[Name] looked up, surprise flickering across their features. They hadn’t expected anyone to approach them, let alone someone as imposing as Ratio. “I—” they started but faltered, words caught in their throat. Instead, they lowered their gaze again, unable to meet his intense eyes.

“Do you think avoiding conversation will ease your burden?” Ratio pressed gently, crossing his arms. “You’re not the only one who carries a heavy heart in this place.”

At his words, [Name] finally met his gaze, feeling a flicker of curiosity. “What do you know about burdens?” they replied, a hint of defiance in their voice. “You seem too busy with your own ambitions to care about anyone else.”

Ratio’s expression softened slightly. “On the contrary. My ambitions stem from a desire to eradicate ignorance and share knowledge with others. But that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to the pain around me. I’ve witnessed the struggle in many faces, including yours.”

[Name] inhaled sharply, feeling a twinge of something—recognition, perhaps. “I don’t know how to handle this,” they admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “Robin—she was my friend. But… now she’s gone. I don’t know how to keep going.”

The vulnerability In [Name]’s voice struck a chord in Ratio. “Grief can be consuming,” he acknowledged, his tone shifting to something more empathetic. “But you must find a way to navigate through it. Knowledge is a powerful tool; it can guide you when all feels lost.”

“Easy for you to say,” [Name] shot back, frustration bubbling beneath their words. “You’re a genius. You have all the answers. What do you know about loss?”

Ratio’s expression hardened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. “I may not know your specific pain, but I’ve faced my own losses. The world is filled with cruelty and hardship, yet I refuse to succumb to despair. I channel my grief into purpose.”

Intrigued by his earnestness, [Name] felt the walls they had built around themselves begin to crack. “And what’s your purpose in this competition? To show off your intellect? To prove something to those who doubt you?”

“Partly,” Ratio admitted, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “But more importantly, I want to inspire others. I believe knowledge should be accessible to all, not just a select few. This competition offers a unique platform to reach people who might otherwise remain in the dark.”

Aventurine’s performance reached its climax, and the audience erupted into rapturous applause, bringing the waiting room back into focus. Ratio’s gaze shifted towards the screen momentarily, then returned to [Name]. “You see, we all have our own battles to fight. Yours may seem insurmountable right now, but perhaps you can find a way to transform that pain into something powerful.”

“Powerful?” [Name] echoed, skepticism lacing their tone. “How? How can I turn this agony into strength?”

Ratio’s expression softened further, revealing a glimpse of the man behind the intellect. “By sharing your story, by connecting with others who understand your struggle. It may not happen overnight, but every step counts. You don’t have to walk this path alone.”

For the first time, [Name] considered his words. They had been so consumed by their grief that they hadn’t thought about how sharing their pain could foster connection. “You really believe that?” they asked, searching Ratio’s eyes for sincerity.

“I do,” Ratio replied firmly. “And I’d be honored to help you find that strength. We can challenge this competition and the expectations that come with it. Knowledge and compassion can pave the way for a brighter future—even in a place like this.”

As Aventurine won his performance, the sound of applause washed over them once more, but this time, [Name] felt a spark of hope flicker within. Perhaps, just perhaps, they could forge a connection amidst the chaos.

This unexpected twist meant they would have to work together, possibly forcing them to confront their own struggles side by side.

“Looks like our paths are intertwined,” Ratio said with a hint of amusement, though the underlying tension was palpable. “Are you ready for what lies ahead?”

Taking a deep breath, [Name] nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and newfound determination. “Let’s see what we can do together.” they replied, a flicker of resolve igniting in their chest.

However, as they prepared to face the trials ahead, an unsettling thought nagged at the back of [Name]’s mind—a sense of foreboding that something darker was lurking just beyond the horizon of their newfound partnership.

“Just remember,” Ratio said, his gaze steady, “in this competition, we’re not only battling for ourselves but for those we’ve lost. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

[Name] felt a chill run down their spine, a premonition that echoed ominously within. The weight of his words lingered in the air, a fragile promise underscored by the reality of their perilous surroundings. In this arena of ambition and peril, they both knew that not everyone would make it through unscathed, and somewhere in the depths of their hearts, a fear grew that one of them might soon pay the ultimate price.

As the applause thundered through the walls, Sunday found refuge in the solitude of a dimly lit bathroom. The sounds of excitement and celebration in the waiting room felt like distant echoes, mocking the void inside him. He gripped the cold porcelain sink, knuckles whitening as he leaned over, desperately trying to steady himself. His eyes, usually clear and resolute, were clouded with grief and a pain he couldn’t seem to shake.

The loss of Robin hung over him like a storm he couldn’t escape, a ceaseless torrent of guilt and sorrow. Memories of his sister—her laughter, her strength, her unwavering kindness—flooded his mind, each one a dagger that twisted deeper into his heart. He remembered the last conversation they’d had, the words they’d left unsaid. If he had been there for her…

A tremor ran through him, and he swallowed hard, his throat tight with suppressed emotion. Sunday wasn’t one to reveal his vulnerabilities, especially not now, when so many were depending on him to remain strong, rational, and composed. But in this moment, all pretense fell away. He was just a brother grieving his sister, grappling with a loss he couldn’t protect her from.

“Robin…” he murmured, his voice barely audible, thick with pain. The name felt like broken glass on his lips, sharp and cutting. His grip on the sink tightened further, and his reflection in the mirror blurred, obscured by the tears he refused to shed. How had he failed her so utterly? How had he let her slip away in this brutal competition, this world that valued survival over compassion, cruelty over kindness.

He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep standing. There were others still here, others he was responsible for, others who could still be saved. But the thought felt hollow. What was the point if he couldn’t save the one person who’d mattered most to him?

Sunday’s shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes, trying to regain a semblance of composure. But the weight of his loss was overwhelming, pressing down on him with unrelenting force. For the first time in his life, he felt truly powerless.

He heard faint footsteps outside, voice muffled but growing closer. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to bury his grief, to hide it as he always did. The world wouldn’t care about his pain. It had never cared. And he wasn’t sure he had the strength to care anymore, either.

[Navigation]

[sarah-the-bird-nerd]

Something's Not Right

Note: So this was actually half done when it was requested by someone so here we are...I hope you brought tissues. Song used for inspiration was Something's Not Right by Lilly Allen. I hope this is angsty enough for those who were looking for it..

Warnings: child loss, angst

Summary: Kyle gets a call that his wife has been rushed to the hospital...

“Sergeant Garrick, my name is Maddison, I’m a nurse at Royal London Hospital, your wife Y/N was brought in about 10 minutes ago, is there anyway that you can get here and quickly?” Came the soft voice of the stranger on the other side of the phone. A voice that he would undoubtedly remember for the rest of his life.

They wouldn’t let him drive himself, Price had taken his keys to his SUV and got in the driver’s seat. Soap and Ghost refused to stay behind and hopped in the back seat without a word. Kyle sat silently watching out the window, scenery passing by, but he didn’t really see anything, he was too lost in his thoughts. The nurse, after confirming that Kyle was in fact on his way, had gone on to explain what was happening, and it terrified him.

Y/N had been on her way to meet a friend for lunch, leaving the house and heading for the subway. Two men had been arguing near the steps down to the platform, shoving each other, and one horribly timed push later. Y/N was tumbling down the steps, her 7-month pregnant belly taking the brunt of it. His usually steady hands are shaking where they rest on his thighs. He tries not to think of what could happen. Everything was going to be fine.

Kyle was out of the car and running before it had even stopped, people staring at him as he ran through the halls of the hospital in his tactical gear, they had been running drills, and he hadn’t stopped to change. He managed to find the emergency department without too much trouble and approached the reception desk.  A tired, older looking nurse with greying hair observed the man for a moment, trying to gauge how this was going to go, she’d seen many a time where families had rushed in and been downright hostile.

“Someone called me. Maddison? My wife, Y/N Garrick was brought in, maybe 45 minutes ago? Can I see her?”

The nurse’s eyes widened. She knew exactly who Y/N was because her arrival had caused quite a stir. She took a breath and motioned for him to follow her. “Come with me,”

The nurse led him to a little sitting room off to one side…a very, private room. Once he was in the room, the nurse spoke again. “Please wait here, I am going to grab her nurse.”

Kyle nodded, taking off his cap and running a hand through his short hair. Before the nurse went out of the room, he called out to her. “I have some friends who are with me, can they be brought back?” The nurse had stopped, turning back to him she nodded before disappearing around the corner. Kyle was pacing the room when she came back with the team, the three men sharing a look when they realized that a private waiting area wasn’t a good sign.

They waited in silence, Soap sitting in the corner, legs and arms crossed, anxiously pulling at the tools on his utility belt. John was seated across from him, watching Kyle pace, and Ghost was leaning against the wall, close to the door with his arms crossed. It wasn’t long before another nurse arrived, this one younger but looking just as tired, if not more so.  Kyle stopped his pacing immediately. She looked around the room at each of the men.

“Sergeant Garrick?” She asked, needing to confirm just who the husband in question was. She had a good idea by the pacing but needed to be sure. When he nodded to her, she took a deep breath. “I’m Maddison. I think you should sit.”

That’s not a good sign he thought but did as he was told. “When can I see my wife?”

“It really should be a doctor speaking with you right now…but he can’t.” Maddison sighed before sitting across from him. “Y/N is in surgery right now. When she was pushed, her front took the brunt of things…the impact caused a placental abruption.” She waited for it to sink in before continuing. “This means, that the placenta has torn away from the uterus and has caused extensive bleeding. The doctor is one of the best in the world and he’s doing all he can to save her.

Kyle turned to look at Maddison, his face tense. “Her? Not them?” He’d picked up on it right away, the whole team had.

Maddison nodded sadly; this wasn’t going to be easy. “W-when your wife was brought in, she had already lost so much blood, and the baby was without oxygen for too long. When we did our initial testing, it indicated that the baby had passed.” Maddison paused. “I am so sorry; I know this is hard.”

Kyle swore his own heart had stopped. Just this morning he had been cuddling with Y/N, talking to the bump, excited for their future, for the daughter who would complete their family. A future that was brutally ripped from him and now Y/N was fighting for her life as well. He covered his face with his hands for a moment, feeling all eyes in the room on him. He took a deep breath before looking up at the nurse.

“Does she know?” He had to know what he was in for when she came out of surgery.

Maddison shook her head. “No, she was unconscious when she came in. I’m sorry I know nothing I say right now is going to make this better. I need to check on some patients, if you need anything, just pop out to the desk and they’ll grab me, as soon as I hear something I will let you know.” With that Maddison gone, Kyle was sure he saw her wiping her eyes as she went.

Kyle stared at the spot that she had just left. He had so many thoughts running through his head. Price and Soap were talking to him, but he couldn’t hear them. Instead, he was focused on how he was going to tell his wife that their baby was gone…and if he ever saw the man that pushed her, well he was going to wish that he’d never been born. He stayed lost in his thoughts for what felt like in reality it was just over two hours.

Another nurse came to update him. Y/N had pulled through surgery was now in a private room on one of the surgical floors. The team left for the night, giving their condolences. Price promised to stop by when he was given the go ahead, knowing that the support was going to be needed. Soap was going to drop off some clothes for him.

Kyle slowly made his way to the room, stopping outside the door. He didn’t go in right away. Instead, he stood tense, looking in the small window. He couldn’t see much, just the window and the bottom of the bed. He took a breath before pushing the door open. Y/N looked tiny in the bed, she was asleep, pale, a heart monitor beeping and an IV one with medication and another bag with blood. There was a chair next to the bed and he pulled it close so that he could sit next to the bed, taking her hand in his, his eyes went to her stomach where just 8 hours ago their child had been comfortably growing. It didn’t look much different, had he not known, he would think that she was still pregnant.

Kyle didn’t know how long that he sat there watching her, never letting go of her hand. He took in the bruises on her arms, her face and God only knew where else he would find bruises on her.  He watched as she slowly started to stir, her eyes flickering under her closed eyelids and a groan coming from her. He squeezed her hand, letting her know that he was there. When her eyes were finally open, he could see the confusion as they finally were able to focus. She looked around the room before her eyes landed on his face.

“Kyle? W-what happened?” She was scared, he could tell. He squeezed her hand again, standing to lean over her and gently pressing a kiss on her forehead, smoothing her hair out. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“What do you remember love?” He needed to know so he could gauge how to handle the situation.

Y/N sat silently for a moment. “We got up, you showered, I made breakfast, you went to work, and I was going for lunch with Carrie.” Her eyes widened “Oh my god I fell…”

Kyle sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and shook his head. “No love, you were pushed, went all the way down the tube stairs.” He watched the emotions flicker on her face, the shock turning into panic as her hands went to her stomach.

“K-Kyle? Is the baby okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, resting his head against hers and wrapping his arms around her. How was he supposed to tell her?

“Sweetheart, I don’t…” He took a breath before cupping her cheek and turning her face to look at him. She knew he could tell by the look in her eyes. “I-I’m sorry love, we lost her.”

The wail that left his wife didn’t sound human. His heart clenched at the sounds and all he could do was hold her as she sobbed against him.  Kyle wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, so he just held her.

What seemed like hours later, a nurse came to check on Y/N. The nurse was quiet, checking her vitals. Before leaving the nurse hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know if anyone has offered…but if you want to see your daughter, we can bring her in.  Normally you’d get to right away but with the surgery…”

Kyle felt guilty immediately. Not once had he thought about seeing his daughter. He was about to ask if they could have a few minutes, but Y/N spoke up. “Please, I need to see her.” It came out as barely a whisper, but she could be heard.

The nurse nodded, promising to return as soon as she could. Kyle held her close, concerned but also anxious to see their child. It wasn’t long before the nurse came back, carrying a tiny, wrapped bundle. Y/N bit her lip, fighting back tears but reaching out. Kyle held his breath as his wife took their baby into her arms, gently pulling the blanket away from the tiny face. He didn’t know why he did it, but he pulled out his phone, taking a few photos of them together without her knowing, Y/N’s focus being completely on the still baby in her arms. She had pulled the baby as close to her as she could, her forehead nearly touching the baby’s.

“I am so, so sorry baby girl, mama couldn’t protect you and now you don’t even get a chance…” she said, her heart breaking even further. “Mama loves you Cassidy, so much.”

Kyle, who had yet to allow himself to cry, felt the burning in his nose as tears tried to make their way out. “It’s not your fault love, not even a little.” He managed to choke out, he reached out, running a finger down the baby’s tiny cheek. “She’s…perfect.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes full of tears again, she reached up resting her hand on his face. “She is…” She looked down at the baby again. “She has your stupidly perfect nose and chin.”

Kyle stared at Cassidy. Yes, she did have his nose and chin, but she had Y/N’s lips, her heart-shaped face, her hair, that was all Y/N. Y/N held the baby out to him, and he hesitated for a moment before taking her into his arms. She was so tiny, but so perfect. With her in his arms he finally broke, clutching her to his chest he let the tears fall, he buried his face into the bundle in his arms and sobbed, his body shaking. Y/N’s heart broke further, her strong, unflappable husband was crumbling to pieces in front of her and there was nothing she could do to fix it. She leaned against him, feeling one of his arms going around her shoulders, pulling her close so that they could cry together.

The nurse, who had silently returned to check on the broken family, slowly backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. She’d come back later. The family had a very long road ahead and she hoped that they had the support that they would need to get through this tragedy.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.3**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on the sleeping platform, fingertips gliding over the unfamiliar texture beneath her. The material was firm, almost rubberized, lacking any real comfort but significantly preferable to the unyielding metal floor where she had previously been kept. The chamber around her was dimly illuminated, its walls composed of dark alloy etched with angular, almost ritualistic markings. The air carried a distinct metallic tang, underscored by an earthy musk that reminded her of damp stone and scorched iron. Embedded symbols pulsed faintly, casting an eerie glow over the array of weapons meticulously mounted on the walls—serrated blades, curved wrist gauntlets, and tools of unknown purpose, each a silent testament to the lethality of her captors.

Why had Vey’ta intervened on her behalf? And why now?

The Yautja remained an enigma—highly intelligent, brutally efficient, and bound to a code she did not yet understand. This shift in treatment was not born of kindness; she knew better than to believe in such sentiment. But it was calculated, strategic. There was a reason for it, and she needed to figure out what that was before it was too late.

A sharp chime reverberated through the room. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Vey’ta entered, carrying a tray laden with unfamiliar sustenance. He placed it on a metal table affixed to the wall and took a deliberate step back, studying her with that same unwavering intensity.

“You are not consuming enough,” he observed, his deep voice resonating through the space.

Y/N eyed the offering. Though she had been given food before, she had barely touched it, her appetite suppressed by a constant undercurrent of tension. But survival demanded strength, and weakness was not an option.

She hesitated before selecting a piece of the alien fare, biting into its fibrous texture. It was denser than expected, the taste unfamiliar yet not unpleasant. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then met his gaze. “You don’t have to do this.”

Vey’ta tilted his head in that distinctly inhuman way. “I choose to.”

That answer unsettled her more than she cared to admit. There was intent behind it, something beyond mere obligation. But what?

The silence between them thickened before Y/N finally broke it. “What happens next?”

Vey’ta did not answer immediately. His mandibles flexed slightly, as though he were selecting his words with care. “You will be tested soon.”

Her grip on the food tightened. “Tested how?”

His mask reflected the dim light as he regarded her. “You will see.”

Not exactly reassuring.

Y/N placed the tray aside, her stomach tightening with unease. “And if I fail?”

Vey’ta hesitated. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter, almost measured. “Then you will not require a room any longer.”

A cold finality laced his words. Y/N exhaled slowly, steadying herself before leveling her gaze at him. “Then I guess I’d better not fail.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes—acknowledgment, perhaps? Amusement? She couldn’t tell. But he nodded once before pivoting toward the door.

As the panel sealed shut behind him, Y/N clenched her fists. Whatever awaited her, whatever this so-called test entailed, she would be ready.

Time passed in an unbroken cycle. The artificial lighting in her chamber remained unchanged, leaving her disoriented—uncertain of how many hours, or even days, had slipped by. Sleep was restless, fractured by an ever-present vigilance. She forced herself to eat, to maintain what little control she had left over her own body.

She had settled into a rhythm, however fragile—eating, resting, keeping herself alert. Uncertainty lingered, but she refused to let it consume her.

Then, the summons came.

The door slid open, but this time, Vey’ta was not alone. Ka’Thar stood beside him, his posture rigid with impatience, his arms crossed in a manner that suggested both skepticism and disdain. His mandibles flared slightly, as if doubting the worth of what was about to transpire. Where Vey’ta carried an air of measured observation, Ka’Thar radiated uncontained aggression. His presence alone was a warning.

Vey’ta inclined his head toward the open hallway. “It is time.”

Y/N exhaled evenly, keeping her expression unreadable. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it. She followed them out, her senses sharpening as they moved. The corridor was vast, lined with the same pulsating glyphs, its metallic walls carrying the distant, rhythmic hum of unseen machinery.

As they walked, Vey’ta finally spoke again. “You must survive.”

Y/N cast him a sidelong glance. “Survive what?”

Ka’Thar let out a low, guttural growl, clearly irritated by her insistence on questioning. “You waste breath.”

But Vey’ta did not dismiss her inquiry so easily. “A trial of strength. Training. You will be tested as we are. Prove yourself, and you will earn more than survival.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. There was no turning back now. Whatever this test entailed, she would endure it.

Failure was not an option. She would endure, adapt, and find a way to turn this test into her advantage.

Y/N walked in step with Vey’ta and Ka’Thar, her mind racing as they navigated the dim corridors of the Yautja vessel. The rhythmic hum of the ship’s systems reverberated through the walls, a constant reminder of the alien environment she was now confined to. Ahead, the passage opened into a vast chamber, its towering ceiling illuminated by the eerie glow of embedded glyphs, their meaning unknown to her.

The space was unmistakably an arena. The reinforced alloy floor bore deep gashes and scorches, silent evidence of countless combat trials. Weapon racks lined the walls, each holding an arsenal of deadly craftsmanship. In the shadows, several Yautja warriors loomed, their masked gazes trained on her, unreadable and unwavering.

Ka’Thar strode forward with deliberate steps, his towering form radiating an unspoken challenge. His shoulders rolled back in a display of dominance, and his mandibles flared slightly, a silent warning. Each movement was precise, calculated, as though assessing her worth before the battle had even begun. His mandibles flared slightly as he turned to her. "You are weak," he stated flatly, not as an insult, but as a fact. "You will learn. Or you will break."

Y/N fought back the impulse to lash out. Instead, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. "Then teach me."

A brief pause. Then, without warning, Ka’Thar lunged.

Y/N barely reacted in time, twisting to dodge—too slow. A massive hand caught her shoulder and sent her tumbling. Pain ignited along her side, but she gritted her teeth, rolling to her feet before she even processed the impact. No reprieve was given. Ka’Thar was already closing in, his approach precise, calculated.

This wasn’t just combat. It was an assessment—a deliberate study of her limits, her instincts, and her potential. Every strike, every evasion was being measured, not just for physical strength but for resilience, adaptability. The Yautja valued the hunt, but this was something more; it was as if they were searching for something specific in her, something beyond mere survival.

She ducked the next strike, moving on instinct, though her body protested every motion. Muscles still weak from confinement, lungs burning, she forced herself onward. There was no alternative. Ka’Thar was relentless, each motion controlled, each attack testing her reactions. He was studying her, and through the pain, she understood: he wasn’t aiming to kill. He was determining whether she was worth the effort.

Time became a blur. Every failed dodge left fresh bruises, every successful evasion bought her only a fleeting second. Ka’Thar neither praised nor reassured. He struck—again and again—forcing her body to adapt, to react, or to crumble beneath the unrelenting assault. Each impact sent jolts of pain through her limbs, demanding more than endurance—demanding instinct, demanding transformation. There was no mercy, no hesitation, only the constant expectation that she would either rise to meet his blows or be broken beneath them. Yet, as exhaustion set in, something changed.

Her movements sharpened. She began to anticipate his attacks, even counter them—clumsy at first, but improving. And Ka’Thar noticed.

When she blocked his strike—truly blocked it—his mandibles clicked in what might have been amusement. His stance shifted, minutely, acknowledging something different about her now.

Vey’ta, standing to the side, remained silent, but she felt his gaze linger longer than before. There was no obvious judgment in his posture, no immediate sign of approval or disdain, but something about the way he watched her hinted at calculation—analyzing not just her performance, but perhaps her potential.

At last, Ka’Thar stepped back, signaling the end of the session. Y/N stood, her body aching, her breath ragged, but she had not fallen.

Ka’Thar studied her for a moment before offering a single nod. Then, without a word, he turned and exited the chamber.

Vey’ta approached, tilting his head. "You did not break."

Y/N exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from her brow. "I don’t plan to."

Something unreadable flickered behind his mask, but he said nothing. Instead, he gestured for her to follow. "Rest. You will need your strength."

As she fell into step beside him, she cast one last glance at the training ground. Ka’Thar had been ruthless, but she had seen something shift within him—something beyond mere indifference. His skepticism had not disappeared, but it had softened, tempered by what might have been the first glimmer of respect. The skepticism, the indifference—something else had surfaced beneath it.

Recognition.