#united peoples sona

[soupghetti]

“Prepare for trouble!” “And make it double”

Banzai blaster sona with @sadsoftserve’s BB sona! (She’s on the right :D)

GREAT AT CRIIIIIME-

[urplepurplegurgleturgle]

you should definitely rant to me about your iteration if you can.. I would absolutely love to learn abt it to possibly draw our iteration turts interacting.. /nf

I LITERALLY SURPRESS A SCREECH OKAY OKAY OKAY OAKY HHHHH SO

TMNT: Found Family is a teetle iteration based off of my friends!! I only have the turtles drawn out (and April planned in my head) but!!! I do have some of the basics:

Donnie (He/Her): He's based off of Tomi!! She's 14, the youngest of the four bros. Typically quiet around people (unless she freaks the fuck out) but he yaps A LOT when she's either alone or with her siblings. A lot of people mistake him as a very meek and mild individual, but in reality he's a violent BEAST filled with rage. The #1 hater ever. But overall she's very silly and critter-like...

Leo (He/him): The second youngest, based off of me! I would've made myself Donnie but. Then I'd just be drawing my sona SO... yeah... I decided to go with Leo because the person I relate to the most (after MM Don, ofc) is Rise Leo. For. Various reasons. But yeah. He's a 16 year old shithead who looooves playing pranks and being a smartass. He's academically smart but SUPER dense (a lot of shit goes over his head..), but also somehow extremely cunning and witty. Despite being a ball of unhinged chaos, he still ends up caring for his siblings like a dad because he's also an Anxious Idiot. Oh also he has a severe case of RBF syndrome

Mikey (He/him): I based him off of Val, he's 17 years old and the second oldest. Gay as fuck, I haven't shown his design yet but he's. Literally a walking rainbow (and I mean LITERALLY... wait until you see his scale patterning). Like Leo, he's a little shithead who teams up with the blue boy to prank everyone within a five mile radius. He's also somehow even more insufferable than Leo. It's probably because he's gay (DON HOMOPHOBIC REAL!??11/??!?!??!? /j). Despite being a seemingly fiery ball of energy, he gets pretty quiet with strangers. Actually, ALL of them get quiet with strangers. Autism sibs unite or something idk

Raph (She/They): The oldest of them all, being 18 years old!! She's based off of my beloved nee-chan Phantom. The (appointed) leader of the group, she has a major case of the Eldest Daughter syndrome. She's a very caring figure of them all, but despite seeming mature and calm, she's just as chaotic as the rest of them. She won't hesitate to condone murder (for the right reasons, of course) and doesn't really reprimand any of her brothers for their shenanigans. If anything, she laughs and cheers them on. I mean, as long as no one's getting hurt, it's all good, right??

April (She/Her): April is also 14, standing next to Donnie age-wise. She's based off of Cin.. I haven't developed her as much since I don't have her design down yet, but as far as I've thought, she's a very mischievous creature.. think of Anya's smug little "heh" face. That's basically her entire personality /hj. Despite being a little bitch (/lhaff) she's very sweet and won't hesitate to comfort her friends and family. Best little sister ever <- not biased at all

As for the storyline.... uh... haha um I. Haven't really thought that far?? Ik for a fact Splinter (who I haven't developed in the slightest) finds all four of the turtles individually as time goes on, with Raph being the first, then Donnie, then Mikey, and then finally Leo. That's why my iteration is titled "found family", because they all literally found each other (unintentionally, but still).

[lore-of-throughline]

Welcome to the world of of Throughline, every art piece I’ve made for my spider-sona and her story can be found on this blog.

Further Lore Reading:

Setting Lore (this document)

Meet the Cast: <1>, <2>

Chronological Reading: Chapter <1>, <2>

Setting Lore

Let us begin by introducing the world itself:

Welcome to Columbus, Ohio. The year is 2092, every major city across what remains of America is a towering spire of concrete and steel. Highways choked with exhaust and the sounds of honking echoes throughout every hour of the day, providing a discordant background to your travel around the city.

Persephone Schwartz-Parker’s Apartment.

Most people live in crumbling homes, in the crowded streets of the lower districts. Persephone herself lives with six other people in the second-floor unit suspended beneath a highway overpass.

Art by BlackBoxCorvid

Most of the year the world is cast in shadow by a heavy overcast, only rarely does the sun shine through, usually in the early morning. There are two main seasons: Rainy and Winter: The weather is usually grey and drizzling during the rainy season, and bitter and white during the winter. As such all the cities are surrounded by thick sheets of icy for half the year.

The Infamous Spider-Man (Ken Brooks, @/Howard_Kyron on Twitter), experiencing the joys of the Scioto Bay.

Columbus is divided into districts dedicated to various economic needs. Not everything is doom and gloom, some take the time and money to build spaces for entertainment—despite space being a premium after The Deluge.

…though they don’t tend to last long.

One last important detail: 90% of the police force got replaced with STAR-Bots, a line of robotic law enforcement officers developed by Tony Stark and branded around Star Lord's appearance.

The Guardians of the Galaxy brand is owned by Stark Tech since the 2030s.

[fluffipawn]

Here's a rant nobody asked for! This is about a gacha series called Blue's Story so please just keep scrolling if you aren't interested. This is also under the assumption whoever reads this knows what I am referring to! Please be mindful of this! <3

[Keep mind of the TWs, continue reading at your own risk?]

Basically, I've seen people have mixed opinions on having Blue's Story even be a thing in the first place and I want to talk about why I think it is SUCH important representation. For the most of you who aren't aware, I have been involved in the gacha community since I was like 9 or 10? I've been around for so long that I watched the release of Gacha Life, Gacha Club, and GL2. The gacha community has been really...SHIT. The gacha community is really shitty! Shocker, I know. But I feel like "Oh, it's too mature for the community!" isn't exactly the argument people think it is? I get it because children take things like that and sexualize abuse/abusers (which has happened). On the other hand, you can face sexual abuse at any age and I think it's so important to make the community aware of things like this and to educate them. (It also just feels good knowing that you aren't alone and having the ability to be united by something like Blue's Story. Having a sense of community outside of gacha.)

Another thing I wanted to talk about is the different types of sexual abuse that is potrayed. God, I love that they included a kind of B Plot about Blue and Lavender and basically COCSA (Child on Child Sexual Abuse) as a whole. (Victim of COCSA speaking here!!) I feel so happy seeing a series like this where I can watch it and just see a character where I can be like, "Hey, that's so me!" as terrible as that might sound? Then there's also Blue being groomed by Purple. I can also relate to this. People using their power imbalance to groom you, it's extremely common. Red too, people being obsessive and harassing you, a lot of people can relate to that. It's just so refreshing to see something that is basically both a comfort and vent media for me.

With the people who don't take it serious or misuse the media because it's a gacha series, that really isn't the creator's fault? That's on the people who do that, and just because there is an immature section of the community doesn't mean that the creator is to blame for children being innapropriate. I've also seen people saying that they hate the idea of people making OCs for a story this serious and I understand that yes, but FUCK I'M MAKING A BLUE'S STORY SONA GUYS I NEED PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE WITH COCSA PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS. In all seriousness, I've seen people make OCs just to ship them with the characters, and yeah that is really weird. BUT. But again, that is not the creators fault. I've seen so many people blame everything on Vic, it is pretty weird to think about.

Anyway who else up Blue-ing they Story? I know I'm about to! (Cupid's Blue's Story sona drops literally when guys?)

[8stripe]

introducing - our tonsi flag ( len sitelen pi kulupu tonsi ! ) 'tonsi' is a toki pona word that, roughly, means "a gender experience not fully described by 'mije' [man] or 'meli' [woman]." context + design explanation under the cut 🌈❤️

🗣❗️ : toki pona is a minimalist conlang, which this post assumes very basic knowledge of. if youd like, u can read the wikipedia page (linked above), or this article from the atlantic, "Toki Pona: A Language With a Hundred Words."

some background on the creation of 'tonsi' - toki pona started development around 2001, and was 1st published in 2014, with 120 "canon" words - including the 2 gender words, meli & mije. however , toki pona is a living language, + words come about as the community needs them - the community came together to create 'tonsi' in a grassroots effort c. 2019 to fill a lexical gap that existed for describing ppl who fell outside the meli-mije duality.

etomologically, the word is from mandarin 同志 'tóngzhì' (meaning "comrade", & commonly used to mean gay / LGBTQ - though "tonsi" itself is generally agreed refer to gender.) some people use it exclusively to mean "nonbinary / genderqueer" , but expanded usage to also include all trans & gnc people (who choose to identify as tonsi) is very common, + is a definition i endorse ( & created the flag in mind with ! ) the word was officialized as an essential word in 2021 w./ the release of the toki pona dictionary

the sitelen pona ( logographic / hieroglyph writing system ) glyph for 'tonsi'

as for the design & symbolism of the flag - the central blue symbol represents the sitelen pona glyph for tonsi (shown above), in the blue of the toki pona logo - the 3 segments (colored pink, green, and purple) were roughly inspired by colors on the trans, gq, & nonbinary flags - as a whole, the flag symbolizes the way the tonsi community unites people of all different gender experiences & primary-language terms.

toki pona philosophy is all about capturing universal concepts in a way that allows for clear and simple communication, and gender variance is absolutely a universal concept. tonsi is a beautiful + necessary word, & with this flag, i wanted 2 focus not on granular inclusions of which groups fall under tonsi , but rather the unity the term presents, and how it allows us to unite by what we have in common , rather than pick over the terminology we choose.

a version of the tonsi flag made in a 16:9 aspect ratio 4 convenience

to my knowledge, no one else has made an effort 2 create a dedicated tonsi flag, but reception to having one has been positive thru the toki pona speakers ive shown the design - much thnx to the people on discord who gave their thoughts, as well as @epikulupu for consulting - sina ale li epiku mute a ❤️ ( ill also be posting a lili version of this post on r/tokipona soon + will add a link when i do 🌈 )

im passionate about toki pona + its community, + am an advanced speaker myself - if you have questions / comments , dm me, send an ask, or leave a reply - id always love 2 chat in/about toki pona 😁 if u.r interested in learning, i reccomend using this free course (lipu sona pona) & joining the discord , ma pona pi toki pona. as always, my flags are free to use, w./ credit appreciated but not required - stay pona ❤️

[notedchampagne]

i love seeing your doodle sona so much. idk how but it looks like me too and i find that very funny like hello little creature brown people unite

im glad :] the itty bitties

[ladnkilt]

LÁ FHÉILE PÁDRAIG SONA! - MARCH 17 - HAPPY SAINT PATRICK’S DAY!

Earl Of Darlow, Ben, “I'm Not White, I'm Irish,” County Antrim, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom.

It's Difficult To Live In The United States On Saint Patrick's Day. The County Is A Mix Of Race, Ethnic, And Religious Diversity. Unless A Recent Immigrant, Americans Knowledge Of Their Ancestors And Heritage Gets More And More Remote, And Distorted. The Result Is Their Understanding Of Such Things Becomes Stereotypes, And Assumptions. Such Is The Case For Those Of Irish Heritage. They're Shocked When I Tell Them Most Of What They Do, Think, And Wear On This Day Are NOT Irish, But Things Made Up By Racist Stereotyping People. They Forget The Irish Are An Indigenous People, Similar To The Native Americans. Both Were Victims Of Imperial Entitled White Genocide. We Had Our Children Taken From Us To Be Raised In "Good Christian Homes," Forbidden To Wear Our Native Clothing, Speak Our Language, Practice Our Traditions And Music, And Our Land Stolen From Us. Americans Forget, Store Windows Used To Have A Sign That Read, "No Blacks, No Jews, No Irish, No Indians."

The Male Form...  In Photography, Art, Architecture, Decor, Style, And Culture Which Moves Beyond Mere Appearance To Reveal The... SOUL.

By LadNKilt: Earl Of Darlow, Ben Official Residence: County Antrim Northern Ireland; Main Residence: London U.K.; Second Residence: Kansas City Missouri U.S.A. LadNKilt Archive | Message Me | Submit | LadNKiltLife (Biography)

[adcmans]

~Introduction~

Name: Corazón/ Cora (For short) / Sora

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 20

Likes: Writing, Playing Games, listening to music, seeing people work, talking about My persona in my favorite things

Dislikes: seafood, abusive/ any r3pe writing, people that don’t pay attention to people hard work in GCs/Servers,

Anime I watch

One Piece

Life lessons of Uramichi Oniisan

Record Of Ragnarok

Black Clover

Mushi-Shi

Gintama (currently watching)

Bungo stray dogs (currently watching)

Jujutsu Kaisen (Currently watching)

Happily Marriage (Currently watching)

Pokémon

Kemono Jihen

Games I Play

Obey Me

Obey Me nightbringer

Disney Twisted Wonderland

Arcana Twilight

Pokémon (Sword, Arceus, Violet, unite)

Writings I do

OC x Canon

Self Insert X Canon

Persona x Canon

Headcanons

I only do sweet and caring writing

Writings I won’t do

NSFW (Until I learn how to do it better)

Anything that is abusive or anything without consent

Proshipping/proshippers

There is more but I can’t think

Comfort Characters

(Not in Order)

Julius (Black Clover)

Corazón (One Piece)

Katakuri (One Piece)

Lucifer (ROR)

Azale (ROR)

Samael (ROR)

Beelzebub (ROR)

Alpheratz (Arcana twilight)

Kalim Al Asim (TWST)

Sam (TWST)

Zerofuku (ROR)

Luke (ROR)

Buddha (ROR)

Inugami

Kabane

Fun Fact About Me

I have ADHD

I’m pretty good at knowing characters personality

My Gacha luck in games are pretty good

I have two dogs name Queenie (she has a lot Torta, Tortellini) And Nemo

I daydream a lot and remember all my ideas

Ending With Info

My request is open for any Headcanons,I mostly write for my persona I have and if your interested on me posting about them I would, I would also listen to people who wants to talk about there OC or Self insert with there favorite I am happy to hear about it.

Thanks for reading this and I hope your happy to hear me rant or doing random stuff.

Sona different media

Black Clover Sona

[charibapon]

!! would love to learn more abt sentivern :0

hi! yeah i can definitely talk about sentivern rq! :3 to start, i kind of conceptualized him when i was thinking about making a sona based on the charibasa uberhero... and then when i was designing him, i kind of wanted more to go off of. so a lot of his design elements are heavily inspired by cannogabang and charibasa. as for his weapon, in the post before, i depict him using a greatsword. from there i took grenburr as inspo as well! iirc my partner gave me the idea that he's able to parry attacks back at enemies for x% of the damage given. his weakness is definitely his stamina tho the last inspo i took was from dragons and wyverns in general, and a little bit from birds. i know we already have a dragon-adjacent unit (cannogabang) but i still really like how it turned out so i rolled with it anyway ^^; as for lore wise (which is still kind of in the works) i'd imagine he's just like an old man who has a big sword and he's all about dishing out justice against the dark heros or something. he's very caring and nurturing like a good dad tho lol. yeah! that's about it, i'm glad people want to learn about the stinky old man. i'll probably update the lore as time goes on w/ new art thanks again! @@/

[deviantartdramahub]

Oh and can we talk about how fucked up some of his sonas are, if it wasn't obvious he has a pig fetish you will be reminded of that almost every time he gets a new sona, the were-otaku is a fucked up sona in its own because it's an offensive (to me) stereotype of nerds (yeah I don't think I can go into it without going into 18+ territory, but let's just say that it involves infection via salivia, and the chance of being turned into a figure to be put in a 'love juice' jar as part of sort of a Mass Transformation and well it is obviously blantantly obvious this guy is G-A-Y because he clearly made it so this fursona makes any male he sees into a cosplayer of one of his husbandos). And he just had to do a racially insensitive sumo wrestler TF into a sumo sona as well. And of course the fact he mentioned in the post about me on the

Deviantartdramahub that he found it humilating to try and explain it to people in real life (like who the hell even knows what he does online anyway apart from his friends? And half of those friends are from other parts of the world) yet he has a humilation kink - a really bad one at that. You know maybe I wouldn't be complaining about this idiot's posts if he kept his mouth shut every few years, since 2021 he has made at least 4-5 posts about me talking about me in broad terms as he puts it (yeah right, 'stalker from half across the world' could be anyone, gee I wonder who that could be referring to) but come on, he acts like I made it my life's goal to make his life miserable, I have friends too, friends who don't act like I did anything wrong or suck up to the attackers.

Also...jingo-ism...yes, apparently to this guy jingoism is a fetish, he did three transformations that are the exact same thing, his character being turned into a fat literal nationalist pig, one for the United States (because apparently he just found out about the Inside Job and got a new mancrush in the form of Glenn Dolphman), one for Australia and one for the UK even though he is already from there and the result is the same, just a morbidly obese anthro pig wearing underwear with the flag of that country on it. Oh and his stupid as fuck clown tf post, look I have always hated clowns being fetishized (because clowns are not a species of alien/monster/animal, they are actual people with jobs) but the fact he had to be all 'what if body horror transformation but with clowns with the hands bursting open to reveal gloves that tear at everything else as your nose bursts and swells uncomfortable, revealing a clown nose underneath?' Yeah that already exists, it's called Clown and it's a horror movie - made it even worse. Thanks a lot for bringing back the Bluman08 roleplay trauma, you creep. And also did I mention he made like a huge collaboration with Zeydaan who is a notoriously creeper and clown fetishist?

[temva]

⭐pinned post⭐

( this post includes information about the

Blog as well as my frequently used tags).

-Welcome!!-

Commissions open

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You can call me Temva, Tem, or

Any variation of that!!

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Misalaneous Info

This is a TMNT art blog I'm not currently in any other fandoms so everything is primarily tmnt content

I use any pronouns

My time zone is MST

I use ibis paint for my art

⭐Tags⭐

#Digital art: ( this is mainly where all my art is)

#Traditional art: ( there's not a lot here but sometimes I'll post my traditional art)

#Sona: ( all art of my sona is here)

United by grief au: ( this is my rottmnt future au there's not much here yet but I plan on making it a comic in the future!!)

#Fav:( this is where I store neat art I love, check it out theres really cool stuff there!!)

#Rewritten paths: (this is my TMNT iteration there's not much here yet either but I hope to make this a comic as well!)

#Orange juice the turtle: (this is my TMNT oc for the #TMNT foodie au. Many people have created wonderful OCS for this so go check that out!!)

(Everything has been properly sorted into these tags so if it wasn't there before its there now)

Enjoy your day:D

[karakulialiny]

Hell yeah! The last pack of references is finally finished! Now, I am fully prepared for Art Fight😎

In the meantime, let me introduce you to the Neo Ninjas gang. It was founded by former surgeon Shingen Sato after he was fired from the hospital because he was left disabled after a terrorist attack on a shopping mall. First, he was joined by other victims of the same terrorist attack, Hector and Hannah Boseman, then they took Tiberius from another room, and after that, they found my sona lying on the road and Chris. Since after escaping from the hospital, they became mired in the criminal layer of Midnight City, they had to unite into a gang that commits robberies and assassinations in order to survive and earn money for the better life. In fact, everything is much more complicated than described here, I just don’t want to go into too much detail. The full backstories is described on ToyHouse.

Just a fact: this gang was inspired by Noirenard's Hell's Hounds. I tried my best to make Neo Ninjas gang different: changing setting, motives and backstories of each member but some similarities are still here, like one half of the gang are people with common sense, and the other half are just chaosbringers.

[jades-typurriter]

Copper Badge/Robber Stripes

A commission for @totalcudgel, who was my first customer outside of my group of friends and very enthusiastic for the whole process! Her sona gets her gender transed and her species swapped by one of her OCs. Hope you enjoy!

CW: TGTF, weight gain, some slightly more visceral descriptions of changes

“Nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?”

“Sheriff Sam? Oh, thank God I got someone who actually knows what they’re doing! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve called in and been told to try Animal Control instead?”

“Well, I’m the only one at the station-house at this hour.”

“With overtime, I hope. You’re about to do some real good!”

“Good one. Location of your emergency?”

“Okay, listen. You know the dirt road that forks off from main street? The one everyone uses during game season, goes straight into the woods—”

“Please don’t tell me another deer-headed hiker didn’t get shot by a hunter.”

“No, this is bigger, MUCH bigger! I set up some trail cams just a ways off the trail, and—”

“Sir, I’m not going to tell you to call Animal Control, but I am going to remind you that Bigfoot is a citizen of the United States, and that I cannot arrest him for walking around in his own backyard.”

“It’s not—”

“Kidnapping is kidnapping, even if it’s ‘an anthropological breakthrough’, sir—”

“IT’S NOT BIGFOOT! If you can believe it, it’s weirder than Bigfoot!”

“…Weirder how?” The sheriff sighs, kicking his feet up on the table.

He wasn’t lying—the station was totally dead this late at night, and he most certainly was not paid enough to stay this late and field false alarms all night. Someone had to keep an eye on the town overnight, and none of the other cops were willing to do the job most nights. They were either much younger than himself and had social lives to attend to—plenty of them were fresh out of college and still had drinking buddies, or were looking for someone to settle down with—and those his own age had already done so. As the most senior officer—And the only one with nobody to go home to, he thought, before pushing the self-directed jab out of his mind—he volunteered for the job most nights.

Of course, there were plenty of people whose biological clocks inclined them toward night work, but if they’re more alert at night, they’re better suited to working the beat than to waiting around playing operator. Sam himself was a human, but the station was fairly diverse; no owls, but they’re just the most obvious choice. Coyotes and foxes were plenty active after sunset, and mountain lions were comfortable working before opening and after closing. There were plenty of raccoons around town, as well, though none happened to be on the force. Sam lamented this, in passing. He’d always had a soft spot in his heart for raccoons.

“Soft spot” might be putting it a little bit lightly: most of his crushes and romantic flings had been with raccoon women, and he’d always wondered at the dexterity and agility of the wild, four-legged kind. Something about leaping over fences and scurrying up walls, slinking through the grass just out of sight… His office was littered with knickknacks and decorations that evoked the stripey little critters, which he had always played off as being cops-and-robbers-themed decor to add a little levity to the station-house, but it was fairly safe to say that what he had was a little bit of a fixation. Nothing wrong with that, though—everybody was more interested than usual in something. 

“I, look, I don’t know how to explain it, exactly,” stammered the caller, “but I need you to just bear with me. I’ve been called crazy plenty of times, and I know that telling you about all these weird, indistinct linear shapes I saw moving past the trail cam isn’t gonna help much, but BECAUSE it’s on the trail cam, you can just come see it for yourself!” Sam heaved another sigh, looking around at the empty office.

“Fine,” he grumbled into the receiver. It had been a slow night. “Am I going out to the camera itself, or am I meeting you at your—”

“SHIT, it’s back!” the caller cried. Sam could hear him frantically tapping at his keyboard—taking screenshots, maybe, or zooming in, or posting to a forum for conspiracy theorists. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Don’t you think they’ve seen plenty of those photos, bud? He groaned, internally. You splurge on the good trail cam, or are we gonna have another grey smudge to show for your triumphant discovery? He wondered, briefly, if the town really needed a night guard; it was always something ridiculous like this. But I’ll go even crazier without something like this to keep me busy, and worst case? It’ll be good for a laugh.

“It’s, Sam, I’m telling you—are. Are you laughing?”

“No, no,” the sheriff replied, pretending to clear his throat. “What’re you seeing?”

“You’re not gonna believe it ‘til you see it with your own eyes! It’s just this, this mass of zig-zags and odd angles as it goes by the camera, I—I can’t tell if I’m even looking at something solid! It’s dark, and then light again, in a way that doesn’t quite make sense, somewhere between tendrils and, and some kind of—”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go straight to the camera and tell you what I see.”

“Just don’t hang up! I want to hear every little detail about this crazy thing.”

Begrudgingly, the sheriff obliged, calling him back on his personal cell phone and answering his constant stream of requests for updates during the uneventful drive down main street and to the hunting trail. The camera wasn’t too far into the woods, according to the caller; Sam could just park on the trail and walk a few dozen yards to get there.

“SAM!” shouted the caller. “BE. CAREFUL. I haven’t seen the thing in a little while, but the camera just went black—I think it might’ve broken it, and it’s still nearby!”

“Did you consider that shouting into the phone might be bad for my health, if there’s some unknown creature prowling around?”

“I—”

“Just keep quiet a minute, ‘kay?” Sam muttered, crouching low and turning off his flashlight. The trees were thin here; he was able to navigate by the moonlight, quickly spotting its glint on the metal shell of the camera. It sat nestled into the edge of a bush in the middle of a clearing. It was shoddy camouflage, but at the very least, there were no Bigfoots, Abominable Snowmen, or any other undiscovered form of folk gallivanting around. What he did see, however, was a bushy, striped tail scampering out of the clearing at his approach.

“Well, I hate to be the most recent man to call you crazy,” Sam spoke into his cell, suppressing a pang of distaste for the descriptor—”man”, not “crazy”. “But it seems like we’ve got a false alarm. I just saw a raccoon running away as I walked up.”

“A raccoon?” Spluttered the caller. “But—but the shapes on the camera! They—”

“The shapes were black and white, weren’t they? ‘Dark and light’ all over, lots of squiggly lines?”

“Well, yes, but—but I couldn’t make out any concrete shapes!”

“That’s the point of the stripes, pal. They break up the silhouette so they’re harder for predators to see. Like zebras.”

“Like… zebras?”

“My guess is, it just got too close to the camera for you to make ‘em out clearly,” he continued as his boots crunched across the grass. “Either one raccoon was playing ring-around-the-rosie with your little setup, or a mama was passing by with a line of her kids.” He crouched down again when he was close enough to see the culprit for the camera’s blackout: a cheap little mask, probably fished out of the garbage by one of the little guys. He waved into the camera at the concerned citizen on the other end of the line dangling it up for him to see. “They didn’t break anything, either—just left you a little gift!”

“I… Man, this is a letdown.”

“You’d rather send me alone to fend off some kind of formless alien yeti?”

“Hey, you’re the one who signed up for the dangerous job, aren’t you? It’d be for the greater good of science!”

“Yeah, well, like I told you earlier: kidnapping’s kidnapping, even for science. You have a good night, now.” He heard the beginnings of a huffy retort before he clicked his phone closed, and turned to hike back to his car. He’d keep the mask, he thought; it’d be a cute little keepsake of a funny story like this, and the black eye-ring shape of it would make a perfect addition to his collection. He wondered why a raccoon would be so interested in a camera to begin with.

Maybe it thought it was a can of food? Wouldn’t be the first time someone left trash out here and attracted a wild animal. He scowled. There were signs all over the hunting trail reminding people not to get the wildlife hooked on table food. It would just get him more panicked calls about harmless critters! Well, he shrugged, any night I get to see one of those little guys is a good night. Maybe the hunters being lazy litterbugs isn’t that bad.

He walked back into his office not long after, already thinking of good places to hang his “new” domino mask. His keys were still practically jangling in his pocket when he heard a voice from the—now-open—doorway.

“You really do love raccoons, don’t you?” said the stranger, toward whom Sam immediately wheeled around, letting out a yelp that was decidedly unbefitting of a cop of his stature. His hand flew to his belt for the bear spray he’d brought with him; suddenly, he was glad to have given credence to the town kook, and to have prepared accordingly. Even more than being followed into the building, he was taken aback by the intruder’s appearance: they were a roughly person-shaped mass of light, like a sunbeam stood up from the window it poured in through and started walking around.

“Oh, silly me,” they interrupted themself, “this might be a bit much for a first impression. Sorry for straining your eyes like that!” Sam blinked the light out of his eyes, as reflexive as when one’s eyes pass over the sun, and when he opened them again, he was instead looking at a raccoon person. He didn’t recognize them from town.

“Who… who the Hell are you?”

“Well, we just met a few minutes ago! I know my manners haven’t been at their best tonight—not introducing myself, not knocking—but surely you wouldn’t forget so soon. Maybe you’ll recognize me more easily like this!” Sure enough, the next time Sam blinked, the figure was again replaced, this time by a wild raccoon. “How’s this? Better?”

“Are you—did that guy actually pick up something supernatural on his camera?”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m ‘super’! I think you’re wonderful too, Sam,” the being cooed. “My name is Vello, by the way. Sorry again about that!”

“How do you know my name? How do you—” The sheriff did a double take, gesturing at his office behind him. “—How do you know about the raccoon thing?”

“Word gets around fast in a small town like this, don’t you know?” The critter winked before scampering around the doorframe, out of sight. The glowing figure from before stepped back into view, dimmer this time.

How considerate, Sam grumbled to himself, brow furrowing in both confusion and consternation.

“Why don’t you tell me more about it?” Vello prompted him. Sam felt oddly… exposed, by the request. Awkward. Like someone had stumbled upon a sketchbook, or a journal of poetry drafts, and wanted to see more. Not to mention, a total stranger was doing the asking—but the being seemed so genuine, approached it so gently. “Couldn’t be the weirdest thing you do tonight, could it?”

“Why the interest, anyway?”

“It seems to me that you’ve got some tangled feelings about it!” Sam scowled. Dead to rights. Not like the other officers hadn’t caught him stammering for an excuse about it; he was just pissed that it was so obvious. Hell, though, he reasoned, If God or some shit is in my office, I’d better just roll with it. I doubt the bear spray would actually do anything.

“Well…” The sheriff looked back and forth between the stranger and the stash. He scratched the back of his neck, almost anxious. “I dunno, I’ve always just liked them. It feels like it’s deeper than that, somehow, but… that’s weird, right? I try not to talk about it too much, try not to think about it too much. I don’t wanna creep anybody out—there are raccoons all over town, right? I try to just enjoy them in a… in a normal way. I guess.”

“Normal? You say ‘normal’ like you mean ‘good’, dear. ‘Acceptable’. What makes you think that your feelings aren't acceptable?” Sam winced.

“Well, pal, the fact that I have to try not to talk about it too much. I, uh…I think about raccoons a lot.”

“Oh, I know you do!”

Sam blinked, then blinked again. At first, he thought that he’d been stalked the old-fashioned way. Vello was real cozy talking about all this, though, including stuff that even a stalker couldn’t figure out. Given what he’d just done to show off, he might literally know his thoughts. Not that that’s any more comfortable, he groused.

“I really don’t mean to intrude,” Vello apologized, “but—”

“Then what the Hell are you doing it for right now?”

“Oh, no, I could tell just by looking at your face! The raccoons, though—that I could tell just being near you. There’s a reason it was my first choice of disguise earlier!”

“So that was you on the trail cam.”

“Well, I hadn’t realized there was a camera. I hope I didn’t cause the one who called you too much discomfort; looking at me when I’m not decent tends to… give people a headache.”

“Didn’t seem any crazier than usual to me,” Sam shrugged.

“Wonderful! Enough about your friend, then,” he said as Sam rolled his eyes, “What could be wrong with thinking often about something you love?” Sam’s cheeks grew warm at the choice of words—was affection even the right way to describe the way he felt about raccoons?

“Well, like I said, I don’t want to make anybody else uncomfortable. You hear about cat people all the time, sure, but raccoons are certainly more… out there, as an animal to associate yourself with. Not to mention all the people around town who happen to be raccoons.”

“Are you afraid they’ll think you have…” Vello’s voice took on a conspiratorial hush, like a father giving their thirteen-year-old a talk about how to stay safe while dating. “...a ‘thing’ for raccoons?”

“I don’t want to make them feel objectified,” Sam replied bluntly, rehearsedly.

“Have you ever dated a raccoon, Sam?” The heat in Sam’s cheeks intensified, and he looked away from Vello again.

“...I’ve only dated raccoons.”

“And did you ever treat them like objects?”

“Of course not!” He snapped, whipping his head back around to face the glowing shapes “I gave ‘em all the world, when I had ‘em! But…” Vello waited patiently for him to find his words, finally offering some when it seemed like none were coming.

“But it just never felt right?”

“...No.”

“And what about it didn’t feel right about it?”

“Me, if I’m being honest. I was happy as could be with those ladies, but… I dunno. I guess I never felt good enough for them, or… like I couldn’t be myself around them?”

“How so?”

“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about it, since you seem to be able to be anybody you want,” Sam began. Vello cocked his head at the remark, but continued listening. “But being ‘me’ feels sort of like an act. Not like I’m pretending, really—I’m not trying to lie to anybody—but I feel like I’ve got a mask on around them all the time.”

“What are some things that you feel are part of that mask, Sam?”

“That right there, for one. Never felt too strongly about my name. But who the Hell am I without it, right? Can’t just decide to be somebody else.”

“Whyever not? People change their names all the time. For fun, for marriage, for a fresh start.” Sam grunted in acknowledgment, thoughtful. Vello prodded him further: “Do you have a name you’d prefer?”

“Hmm,” he grunted again. His lip curled—not out of contempt for the idea, but reluctance to dig deeper.

“Anything at all come to—”

“Sally.”

“Sally?”

“Sally.”

“A lovely choice,” Vello beamed. Literally. “May I ask—”

“I don’t really know. It’s just a name my brain keeps coming back to, same way it comes back to raccoons. I figured, if it’s so special to me, that I’d name my daughter that someday, but if you’re asking what other name I’d pick for myself… this is the closest one to feeling like a part of me.”

“As good a reason as any!”

“Shame I couldn't use it.”

“Oh? Why would that be?”

“Because I’m not a woman?” Sam said plainly, turning up a palm and quirking an eyebrow at Vello.

“Do you wish you could be called Sally?”

“What is this, some genie shit?” 

“Of course not!” Vello laughed at that, a good-natured, from-the-belly kind of laugh. “I mean, I grant wishes, but there’s no need for that kind of formality!”

“Right,” Sam muttered, skeptical.

“I’m just curious about what it is that you want! If calling yourself Sally would make you happier, then why shouldn’t you? Actually, don’t answer that—I don’t think it’d be very productive to go back and forth about names being fake and all that.”

“Fake?”

“What, do you think I was born with a name you folk from around here could pronounce? I picked it myself!”

“Why Vello, then?”

“I liked the ring of it,” he chirped.

“Huh. That simple?”

“That simple.” Sam crossed his arms, looking at the floor in thought for a moment. Before he could convince himself out of that promising, tantalizing train of thought, Vello pushed further. “May I ask what else you wish you could change about yourself?”

“I don’t know where I’d start, bud.”

“May I make a suggestion.”

“Sure,” the sheriff scoffed. “Shoot.”

“If you’re envious of a feminine name, is it possible that you’re envious of other feminine traits? Or perhaps even, the traits you find admirable in raccoons?”

“Envious? No, no, it’s sorta like what other people describe when they talk about love. The butterflies, the nerves, the excitement. When You talk about jealousy, especially from girls wishing they were ‘as pretty as hose other girls’, it always comes off… bitter. Angry, sometimes. I’ve never felt that way looking at one of my exes, and definitely never when I look at a wild raccoon.”

“Ah,” begins Vello, “but that isn’t quite true, is it? Even with the wild ones, don’t the stripes seem lovely? Don’t you find their faces cuter than any other animal—haven’t you wondered what a snout like that would feel like? How you would look if the rings around your eyes were natural, instead of from exhaustion? Haven’t you ever thought, just once, that a tail like that would suit you nicely?”

“...I wouldn’t say it’d suit me,” he began hesitantly, then reluctantly added: “But I have thought, on occasion, that it might be fun to have.”

“And when you were with those women, wasn’t there something more than the attraction?”

“I don’t see what you mean. Wouldn’t that just mean… loving them very strongly? That wasn’t the issue; I said earlier, my problem was that I didn’t feel like myself around them, even if they made me happy.”

“Think about why you didn’t feel like yourself, dear. When you were near them, wasn’t there a nagging feeling of wishing you could be even closer than skin-to-skin? Didn’t you wish you could see what they saw, feel what they felt? Perhaps you thought of it in terms of… wondering what made them seem so genuine, compared to what made you feel so artificial?”

Sam crossed his arms. Once again: dead to rights. He didn’t like the feeling.

“I know I promised I wouldn’t keep poking around in there,” Vello acquiesced, keeping his hands where the sheriff could see them, “but it seems like you need a little help connecting those dots, friend.”

“So what are you suggesting? That, because I’m always coming back to this… obsession, with raccoons, that it’s like the name I picked out?” His heart quickened as he brushed closer and closer to those feelings—ones he had spent a long time trying to ignore, out of concern for appearances or out of cold practicality for his unfortunate, but immalleable, reality.

It was like feeling a statue under a tarp—acquainted, almost by heart, with all the shapes underneath, but being afraid to pull the fabric away. Afraid that he would lay eyes on it, and never be able to forget its beauty, never be able to stop longing to bask in its beauty. Afraid that he would have to leave it behind anyway. It had been better to leave it, covered, in the corner of his mind where he could safely ignore it; the gentle, knowing tilt of Vello’s head told him that he wasn’t the only one aware of its presence.

Maybe, with someone else who could appreciate the work of art for what it was, he could bear to tear away the tarp.

“Maybe you’re onto something, then,” Sam continued, shakily. “I lay awake thinking about my exes, thinking about all these tacky striped clothes and pelt hats and everything. I think about them, and while I love them—I cared a lot about those girls, and I think the critters are a wonderful part of nature—love isn’t the only thing I feel. It’s like when you think about your hobby, or how I used to get when I thought about graduating from the police academy. There’s a passion. Like I’m the starring kid in a musical, and they’re playing the number about all his hopes and dreams on my heartstrings.”

“Now I think you’re starting to get it,” Vello encouraged him; he had waited patiently while Sam mulled it over, and nodded along as he finally opened up. “So, Sam—”

“Sally,” the sheriff blurted out, eyes fixed on the being like a lost sailor watches the North Star. “Please.”

“Sally, dear,” Vello corrected himself. Something about hearing the name directed at her made her head swim a little; it was like receiving applause after one’s first time playing onstage. Did she just feel recognized? Seen? How did just a taste of being treated like a woman feel so… right? “What is it that you want?”

“You said you grant wishes?” Sally choked.

“I can help you, yes!”

“No monkey’s paw nonsense? No ironic genie rules?”

“Heavens, no. I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you—or have had this conversation with any others like you—if I didn’t want to help. No ifs, ands, or buts, no strings attached.”

“Can you do it for me? Can you… Can I try being like them?”

“Just tell me what you want to try first,” Vello said, a smile palpable on his featureless face.

“Let’s start… let’s start with the tail,” she resolved.

“Would you do me just one favor, first?”

“You said no strings,” Sally said, warily.

“It’s not a string, per se. Just something I think will be fun! Help you get into the experience, maybe.” The sheriff sighed.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you put this on?” Vello grinned, holding up the little domino mask. Sally patted her pockets—she hadn't set it down anywhere, but she didn’t have it anymore. It was the same one. What the Hell was with this guy? If she weren't in the makings of a great mood, she’d have snatched it out of his glowing hands. “C’mon. Worst case, it’ll be good for a laugh.”

“Pfft. Fine,” she said, cracking a begrudging smile. She snatched it—playfully—from him and reached up to tie it around the back of her head. “Is it working? Do I look like a raccoon yet?”

“You tell me! Do you feel any different?” She opened her mouth to tell him no, of course not, you wingnut, but all that came out was a surprised little yip. The small of her back felt strange, like there was pressure under the skin. Her belt was suddenly uncomfortably tight, and her shirt, tucked neatly into her waistband like it normally was, began to rumple and come loose as though something were snaking its way out of her pants. She could feel—could move—something, though the sensation was indirect, sort of foreign, like wiggling her ears. It wasn’t long enough for her to see yet, even if she tugged her shirt up and craned around to look down over her shoulder.

“Lord, this thing is itchy,” she griped.

“Oh, careful! Don’t scratch that while it’s still growing in,” Vello cautioned. “That would be, uh, your spine.” She winced and endured the sensation, a growth spurt pushing out instead of up. Her tailbone gave a downright strange crunching sensation as it stretched, then split, into a new vertebra; her skin pulled like taffy as it slid further away from the base of her spine, making way for the next new disc, then the next, then the next. A shudder shot through her each time, hammering against the base of her skull.

She felt the unmistakable sensation of a five o’clock shadow all along the new limb, followed by prickles all over, like a million tiny blades of grass tickling her skin. For each new vertebra, a new ring around her tail. Soon enough, she had a brand-new, puffy little appendage sitting just above her rear, long enough for her to wrap around her waist and examine firsthand. It was surreal, flicking around in her hands, like one of those demonstrations she’d seen of robots being controlled by their inventor’s thoughts. To reach out and touch it, to see something so fluffy and cute and feel both the fur between her fingers and the fingers in her fur—something clicked into place in her brain. This was hers. It was her.

“This is…” Sally fumbled, awestruck and frankly so overwhelmed—so surprised that she was overwhelmed, that this felt so good—that she struggled for the words. “This is really something. You, uh, you said that was my spine stretching out?”

“Mhm!”

“So you can’t just, y’know, poof a tail onto me?”

“No ma’am,” he explained, shooting more sparks right into her brain. “I can only really move things around. It looks like I change instantly when I do it because I don’t have your anatomical concerns. You, I have to be more careful with! Don’t want to hurt you, now do we?”

“And here I thought having your bones twisted and moved around like that would’ve hurt like Hell.”

“I’m being very careful,” he beamed.

“Right.” She was well past questioning anything Vello said, at this point. The results spoke for themselves.

“So?”

“Uh, so?”

“So what’s next?” He pushed, excitedly.

“Oh! Oh um, shit, let’s see,” she searched her thoughts frantically, so swept up in the thrill of everything that she nearly forgot to be flustered at her next proposition. “Can we try making me more… ah, shit,” she said, rubbing her face with her hands, bracing to spit it out. “More ladylike?”

“Certainly! Any specific requests?”

“Well, all the girls I’ve had eyes for have been on the heavier side. Maybe if I like having a soft tail so much, I’ll like being a soft woman too!” she said, half-joking, full of enthusiasm. “Do I have to, y’know, do something else like the mask, or…?”

“Oh, no. I can just—” Vello began, trailing off with a vague gesture in Sally’s direction.

“Woah.” Immediately, she began to feel changes: her hips creaked as they widened, and her once-broad shoulders groaned as they pinched inward toward her spine, narrowing and sloping downward. Her legs lengthened a few inches, snapping and squeaking like rhubarb or bamboo as her bones warped under Vello’s guidance, and her torso shortened by a few more inches than that. She was smaller overall, and a touch more slender, but much leggier in comparison. Her legs began to fill out as well. Her thighs, at first, merely brushed against each other as she shifted her weight around, her eyes darting from limb to body and back in wonder; within moments, they were like pillows stuffed in a bag from a furniture store, straining against the confines of her work pants and pressed firmly against each other, even with her feet slightly apart.

The changes progressed further and further up her body, testing her pants’ limits even more harshly as her rear softened and grew. If she hadn’t just sprouted a tail, she’d have found the weight in the area to be an unfamiliar sensation; even with her five whole minutes of experience, she quickly had to learn to adjust her balance. Finally, the button gave way, and the zipper was torn open by the force of her growing hips. Even so, the garment was stuffed taut and drawn tight as a suspension bridge,  and even so, her butt bounced slightly when she moved. She knew that if she were in the nude, it’d be wobbling outright—rippling, even.

Next was her shirt’s turn to be put through its paces. Her tummy changed gradually at first: the outline of the bottom of her ribs softened, then faded away entirely; her flat stomach grew to a bit of a bump, then began to squish down the tiniest bit under its own weight; a muffin top began to spill over the waist of her pants. Quickly, rolls started forming—her belly had grown soft enough to fold, to pool on top of itself. When she moved, her stomach took half a second to catch up to her, and its weight was palpable as she turned to admire her burgeoning figure. The way it stretched her button-up looked almost like an over-stuffed plushie: pulled tight in a way that seemed like you could sink your hand into it, and like it would make for an excellent pillow.

Her chest grew in much the same way, starting out as a single extra layer of padding and becoming larger, more rounded, bound more strongly by gravity as they expanded. Perky at first, they quickly became heavy enough to squish down onto themselves, though, supported by her tummy as they were, they still seemed plenty bouncy. Her nipples puffed up beneath her shirt, becoming broader and softer—right up until her chest filled out the top of her button-up, and they were pressed to tightly against the fabric as to be plainly visible through it. Another button gave, zipping right past Vello, and then another. Her face grew flushed at the sight of her own cleavage; the way she was enraptured by every little bounce with her breathing, by the way her shirt cupped and supported them, it was like she was a teenager seeing her first pair in person all over again. Except these, she got to keep!

A few final changes happened above her shoulders: her brows thinned, her cheeks filled out, and her Adam’s apple just about disappeared with one flustered gulp. She tested her new voice, shaky from excitement though it was:

“Listen, Vello,” she began, face burning. Her voice still carried years of wear, exhaustion, but it was a bit higher itched; a raspy contralto instead of her old gravelly grumble. “I know you have a real good read on the things I enjoy—and please don’t mistake me, I am enjoying this—but I don’t think this much of a figure is… office-appropriate.”

“No? But, dear, you aren’t too encumbered by the new changes, are you? You can still run well enough, especially with legs like those, and—”

“No, trust me when I say that this is… exceptionally curvy, for us mere mortals. Maybe it’s just me, another one of those things I was worried about being creepy over, but… can we just dial it back a little with the body fat?”

“Well, as long as it’s what you want. I can’t say I understand, though. You seemed thrilled about it just a second ago!” Vello waved again, and Sally lost a cup size, two waist sizes, and a few inches off her inseam. She breathed a sigh of relief, and her clothes finally stopped screaming for mercy.

“There’s such a thing as too excited about a body, Vello.” He looked at her blankly—even more than you would expect for someone without a face.

“I guess I just wouldn’t get it.”

“Maybe not,” she said, fiddling with her tail, “but get this!” She turned around, having wrapped her new raccoon rings ‘round her neck like a boa. “Isn’t this cute?”

“Oh, that’s an excellent idea! If you like your new fur so much, we could cover the rest of you in it!” Sally’s heart began to pound again at the suggestion.

“Yes. Let it rip, mister genie, make that my third wish! I think I know the answer already, but I wanna find out for sure if what I liked about those ladies really did run deeper than skin-to-skin!”

“Silly,” Vello chuckled, “I already told you I’m no genie! But your wish is my command,” he obliged her, dramatically waving his fingers around as though he was casting the final part of some grand spell.

First, her skin began to tingle—all over, just like when Vello started to grow her tail, she felt the ticklish, pokey sensation all over. Goosebumps formed on her skin, running from the base of her skull all the way to her toes, and from each little bump erupted a thick, strong follicle of fur, cascading along her body in bands of black, white, and all the shades of gray in between.

Her toes themselves also began to change: she felt a dull pressure in her feet, like the kind she had felt after a long car ride without a chance to stretch her legs. Along the bottoms of her feet, the skin thickened into paw pads; when she looked down at her hands, she saw much the same thing, and likewise felt pressure building there, like she had gone too long without cracking her knuckles. She extended her fingers, gently, and then flexed them—one by one, they crunched and popped, becoming thicker, rounder as they curled. The bones in the delicate joints slid past each other, shortened, grew stouter, and by the time they were done, they were a cute little pair of paws, each digit topped with a retractable claw.

The changes in her legs were more extensive than that, however; they would continue all the way up her legs and up into her hips. Her ankles cracked, tarsal bones gnashing against each other as they began to borrow length from her shins, and they strained as more and more of her weight was slowly forced forward onto her toes. Thankfully, as if to help her maintain her balance in real-time, much of the mass of her calves (and a little from her thighs) shifted to her rear end, the muscle there bulking up to help support the weight on her new digitigrade legs. She bent her knees—now considerably higher on her leg than she was used to—one at a time, shivering with relief as her bones cracked through the last tremors of reorganization, then popped up. She tentatively put one paw in front of the other, strutting around in a little circle, testing the limits of her new legs and ecstatic to find how nicely she bounced across the floor on them.

Her face, once again, was the site of the finishing touches. Her nose elongated into view of her eyes, and the end became wet and cold in the still air of the office, even in the warmth of Vello’s glow. Her teeth shifted—a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she got her braces off in high school—and the ligaments in her jaw snapped and stretched as it realigned itself, struggling to keep up with the sprouting of her snout. Whiskers shot out from the fur near the end of her nose, each one with an accompanying pinch, like it had been plucked by a tweezer and pulled out to its proper length; her ears migrated along the sides of her head, rounding out as they went and coming to rest at the top of her head. She reached up, feeling the shape of her new features with her equally-new paws, and realized she could no longer feel the mask. It struck her that she must have an all-natural mask now, and she suddenly felt like a child on Christmas morning.

“Vello,” she cried, whirling around to face him again, “we gotta find a mirr—oh.”

“A mirror?” He asked coyly, peeking out from behind a full-length vanity mirror. It was another impressive magical maneuver on his part, but she was distracted: the sight of herself in the mirror was enough to move her nearly to tears. It was really herself! The first time she had looked in the mirror and felt more than apathy, than resignation, than “acceptance of the luck of the draw”. She liked what she saw. She loved it! Her paws covered her snout, overcome with emotion; after a moment collecting herself, she watched it move in the mirror, still unable to believe that what she was seeing was real. Eventually, she stepped around the mirror and threw her arms around Vello—something she now had to reach slightly up to do.

“This is wonderful,” she mustered, trying not to sob into his shining shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You’ll be happier this way, won’t you, dear?”

“Happier than I knew i could be!”

“That’s all the thanks I need.” She pulled away to look at him; he could tell by her face that she was unsatisfied with the answer. “Maybe look out for other people like yourself?”

“Who want to change their gender, or who want to change their species?”

“Either!” he replied, eagerly. “And both! Just be willing to hear them out, you see. And if they aren’t sure how to say it quite yet, don’t be afraid to give them a nudge in the right direction.”

“Pay it forward,” she mused. “I can do that, for sure. Looking out for the people in this town is my job anyway, right?” She paused for a moment before a realization set in: “Ah, shit. My job. I’m gonna have to answer so many questions…”

“A perfect opportunity to reintroduce yourself then, my dear!”

“Hah. I guess so!”

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I take off, Sally?”

“Vello, I think I’m better than I’ve ever been. Thank you.”

“You’re very, very welcome. See you around!”

“See—” she blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, Vello was gone, mirror and all. “—you.” Huh. That’s that, she supposed. She glanced out the window; the sun was nearly up, which meant that her shift was about to be over, and that the station-house was about to be flooded by her coworkers. She decided it'd be best to get the Hell out of there for now; she could figure out an excuse for everything that had happened after getting some proper rest. She fiddled with her badge—surely, they’d believe it was her as long as she had it, right? The glint of the early light on its polished metal distracted her as she walked out to her truck. It took until the sky started changing color around her to snap her out of her admiration. The sheriff laughed to herself.

Guess some of these changes really do go further than skin-deep, she mused. Figures that I’d go straight from collecting stripey things to collecting shiny things. If she was honest with herself, something felt right about that, too. A lot felt right, now. More right than it ever had.

[drfirsnogayny]

Introduction

Some important information that is not written in the picture above:

I don't like it when people say "they/them" about me.

I don't indicate my political and civic position, including I do not reblog on this topic.

I am a mentally ill person, although I do not have a diagnosis (my friend suggested that I am autistic), health problems can affect my behavior and mood.

I allow interaction to everyone except sex spambots, however, I forbid you to show any chauvinism towards me, my friends, strangers, or fictional characters (heterophobia and cisphobia are also prohibited).

I am a reserved person, so my gratitude consists of two or three words. Don't expect enthusiastic speeches from me, I can't do this.

My sona looks like this, not like in the picture.

My works

Cleavers cult

Byron Kagita is an evil, harsh, domineering and depraved military man who returned to the city of His childhood to rethink His life. Cleavers Cult is basically His project to help random people figure out their problems. His best friend Howard, who volunteered to help, needs protection, because he is an escaped mutant. Andro is trying to save his wife from the hands of maniacs who constantly call him, while Vincent and Tinj are under pressure from their superiors. In addition, Byron will have to improve relations with His family, which harbored a grudge against Him.

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Depressive school

Girl Nancy enters the school where her aunt works as head teacher to help her. Her new classmates don't like her, because it's in Nancy's interests to report on her classmates and participate in their punishment… or torture? The girl Myrtle is one of the few who is friendly to Nancy: she wants to use her help in finding Bunny, a maniac boy. And perhaps not only him.

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Biolitary school

Just Kindergarten 3 AU. The main characters enter a new school with a biological and sports bias with very arrogant local children who perform some of the functions of the staff. Can be deleted or changed.

In connection with the announcement Kindergarten 3, it will be changed.

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Broadcast Revolution

Restarting an old version of AU. 20 years have passed since the events of Kindergarten. The city is ruled by the Mayor, who can control your consciousness through TVs. Lily and Billy have recently returned to this town, and they intend to stop the Mayor. With the help of their longtime acquaintance, The Guy, they intend to unite everyone they know in this city — their former classmates.

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My social networks

Discord: dr.firsnogayny

Art Fight: Dr.FirsNogayny

I also have Twitter, DeviantArt, Facebook, Amino and VK, but please don't

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General

🖌️ Artist on Tumblr vs Not my art & Reblog (Talking reblog & Answer reblog)

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Art trade & Gift art & Collab art & Art request

Not my OC & Not my AU & Not my sona

Repost

Redraw

Sketch

Delete later (If you find posts with this tag, you are lucky)

DRFND

Events

🛡️ Art Fight (2023 ● 2024)

Funguary (2024)

My sonas

🐦‍⬛ Raven

🕊️ Zephyr

My universe and AUs

🌻 Biolitary school

🔪 Cleavers cult

🩸 Depressive school

🎤 Hilsod

✉️ Penitent (no one post yet)

Fandoms

📼 Amanda the Adventurer

🐱 Castle Cats & 🐶 Dungeon Dogs

🍎 Kindergarten 1 & 2

😭 The Binding of Isaac = TBoI

🎭 The Phantom of the Opera

Trigger warning

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Ships

Block this tag (for example, #anna x bob) if you don't like this ship.

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[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, day 2

Ch 7

Dorian

Spider

Is it bad that I kinda like the spider 😂

I just think it’s cute that she told him “you can’t pronounce my name” and then instantly had a human-pronounceable name ready to give him. Girl’s been working on her human-sona all her life and now she finally has an opportunity to unveil it.

Idk, I like spooky characters that are actually friends. Suriel vibes. Hopefully she doesn’t murder them all in their sleep.

Ch 8

Reading about Aelin getting tortured is going to break my feeble heart, I might actually be too soft to endure this, it’s gonna give me nightmares.

I don’t really know Connall that well, but it sucks that Maeve had him stab himself to death. I feel bad for Fenrys too! Like ugh. Emotional damage.

Ch 9

I need a small morsel of hope to cling to right now. I hate this.

Ch 10

Hey, remember when he proposed to you while you were in dragon form

Remember when you said you wanted to slow this down

And now this is happening

Mixed signals, Lysandra

He needs cuddles

That’s what he needs

If you wanna be with Aedion you gotta go get your dragon bod on and cuddle him up

Ch 11

I’m actually kinda surprised to hear Chaol’s father is the last stronghold against Erawan. I guess it makes sense, since he wasn’t too fond of his son serving the King of Adaran… but it just seems like all the villains should be in league with one another, doesn’t it?

If they’re gonna go where witches are - I wonder if we’ll get a sweet Dorian x Chaol reunion?

Probably not. Since I think they’re in two different places and Dorian wants to go into Morath.

But maybe the witches will be nice, and want to make out and join forces!

Ch 12

Fuck, Aelin. I’m broken too. It’s good she has some fight left in her. Very surreal to see her dead mom’s ghost come to comfort her.

Rowan and the others are on the way tho! They’re near enough to feel your fighting spirit! Keep hoping, keep fighting, because babe is on his way. And he’s bringing friends.

Ch 13

They found the Crochans! Do they want to join forces!

This old witch knows exactly who Manon is!

She’s family! And she’s very welcoming! Aw!

Ch 14

Omg ok shit just got real

I think I have too high of hopes for Manon “the child of peace who’s supposed to unite the witches.” She didn’t even try, lol. Just brutally murdered those two covens. I mean - it’s fine - they were kind of being aggressive and came at them first - and maybe it was a show of faith to the Crochan’s to fight and kill so many ironteeth, but! I’m team Dorian a little bit. Team, what if those wyverns were given love and good riders. Team, just because you were raised and trained to be evil doesn’t mean that’s all you’ll ever be.

My heart goes out to him, with that severed Yellowlegs head. He’s learning the hard way that witches can be just as breakable as human women.

Ch 15

“Cyrene slumped to the ground, eyes unseeing.”

Jesus, Dorian! Chill out!

I actually did like her, lol. It’s ok, I wasn’t that attached. Maybe she taught him a little bit about shapeshifting? In her final moment? Maybe Dorian can harness the ability to shapeshift and use that to get into Morath. As a mouse, or something.

And the thing with Manon. Idk. I guess I don’t really know what it means to unite the witches and bring peace. Because some of those witches are vile and violent and deserve to be brutally slaughtered, like Manon’s grandma, who’s pretty much never done anything to redeem herself. But then, other witches are pretty chill and cool once you get to know them. They’re people too, with hopes and dreams and feelings. So I feel like just inviting the Ironteeth here to the Crochan camp and killing them impressively is NOT the way to go about it. But idk if Manon knows any other ways.

Maybe Dorian can help her, but idk.

It’s good to see them talking to each other. Their relationship needs development, lol, so I’m happy to see them developing.

[memurfevur-archive]

Hi im talking about my multiverse lore

actually my multiverse worldbuild isnt that special its literally just combining how Marvel and DC do it especially Marvel

i even made!! a picture of it once trying to explain the layout. no i will not share cuz it needs tidying

essentially there are different tiered “planes” of existence in my lore, which i call “rings.” each ring is home to a whole new dimension, a whole new world, and able to influence the ring that exists under them. so in my lore, there’s the Messiah-world ring called Illither, and the laws of that plane of existence is entirely different from the plane of existence that Earth/Alternia/AUs/etc are on --which is called the Core. Illither is full of god-like parasites called Messiahs, and all these other weird should-be-impossible creatures and stuff. It is also home to the dimensions of Time, Space, and the Reversal (stealing from Pokemon here tbh). Illither is where Ragana, Zillyhoo (now Zillycrow), and Watch’r are from, and where Arceel was sculpted.

Illither vibrates at a higher frequency than The Core, thus allowed them to see the Core, have access to it, and influence it vaguely. They cannot, however, have access to the rings of existence that vibrate at a frequency FASTER than their own. They can only access rings if it vibrates at the same frequency or below.

I should explain what I mean by vibrating: Why are they vibrating? Because everything is made up of atoms and strings-- this is going more into string theory, but just know that everything has smaller units that make up bigger things, and that those smaller units are vibrating. And based on these vibrations, you can interact with the world around you provided they share a similar vibrational frequency. Anything that is too slow or too fast is often not perceived, especially if you live in the Core which has the lowest frequency out of all of its multiverse.

Anyway, then above Illither is what I’m calling the Outer Ring, and this is the plane of existence that Narrators exist on. They can see and narrate what is happening on the worlds that exist below them, and of the timelines that they can see or have access to. Now, I do headcanon that Narrators themselves cannot WRITE the narrative, and true to their name can only describe the events going on. This is just a Them thing, and is not universal throughout the Outer Ring. They may or may not work closely with an Author, something that I’ll explain shortly. The Core and Illither do not perceive this ring of existence --usually-- because the Outer Ring vibrates at a frequency that is faster than both planes. Characters like Dharmast live here.

And then above the Outer Ring is the 4th Wall where Authors and Audience live and where thoughts, drafts, and concepts take shape.

You, dear Tumblr, live in the 4th Wall. We the muns are the Authors, and the people who interact with the Authors are known as the Audience (essentially, anon asks and the like are considered Audience). So, for example, this would be where *I* live, if I were to self insert myself in the same way Hussie did Homestuck. Authors (and some Audience) can influence ANYTHING from any of the rings below them because WE the Authors are writing the story. Authors also sometimes work with Narrators to make and tell the story, but not all the time! If you have a sona representing you that interacts with your narrators, congratulations, you/that sona are an Author in my lore.

There may be more rings of existence!! But if there are I do not have anything conceptualized yet. The ones I’ve described are the base canon ones LOL

I think it’s kind of fun feeling like I’m part of the story, or allowing my friends themselves to be part of it, or making irl part of the story, just because I can and it makes me feel big brained LOL