I Wish I Could Find That Excerpt I Though I Saw A Long Time Ago About A Trans Sister Of Battle. I Think

DEI is about hiring people who are probably qualified, but aren't on paper due to missed opportunities.

It's not about hiring people who are very obviously unqualified, but get a pass due to friends in high places. Trump is doing the exact opposite of DEI: HUE (Homogeneity, Unfairness, Exclusivity) hiring.

White MAGA is massively unqualified.

The funny thing is they've basically got the opposite stance on FSM. One says they can't exist ever, because lore, one says they do exist and always have, because lore.

I probably blocked most of the people this is relevant to, but a transphobe cannot be an ally to GNC people.

An ally is an ally to people who might be. They do not withold support until a peer-reviewed study has proven that they are, and they do not create an environment that prevents someone from discovering they are not.

Being GNC is not a pipeline to being trans. Nevertheless, there are quite a few trans people who start of GNC, before discovering it's not just how they want to present. An ally lets someone discover which one they are on their own terms. They do not say "you are trans, you're just in denial". They do not say "you aren't trans, that's mental illness".

People write million word books on there, and people write 100 word shitposts (I think the proper word is "drabbles" but I've got no idea). I personally find its tagging system very useful, since it's got the ability to filter tags both in and out, though I'm not sure how much of that is my own technological ineptness.

Last bit on nonsense for now. No more noise until next weekend.

AO3.

Yes or no?

I don't have an account. I find the idea of it intimidating.

People write book length pieces of fiction. Multiple chapters. Ships. I don't even ship canon love interests, never mind fictional ones.

I'm just a needy little Internet goblin who lives in a hole called Tumblr. Occasionally, I shout into the void.

But what if that one silly story gets a little attention? What if it flies?

I'm going to bed. Something for next weekend.

Thunderhawks don't fly. They take engines and point them straight down. When they need to move, they take more engines and point them backwards. Sometimes there's ailerons or rudders to change direction. Other times they just use more engines.

It's engines all the way down.

I have a feeling that a space marine (talking about in armour here btw) might actualy be more earodynamic than any of the space marine planes

You know what? Yeah

The necron is in Twice Dead King (and she only really gets an offhand mention, so all we know about her is that she transitioned some time after biotransferrence).

Trans rights in the Imperium are definitely something stratified, though. I'd expect that gender-affirming surgery in the Imperium is about as difficult to access as any other type of surgery (due to most of the population living on hiveworlds in slums that are comparable in density to Kowloon), but those that do have access have access to things beyond what anyone on earth could ever hope to receive. But nobody would go around thinking trans people are heretics or mutants or whatever.

TIL that there's a canon trans Drukhari Wych Succubus. Like actually stated that she used to be male, but after reaching this rank she transitioned into being a female Drukhari and seems to be totally cool with it.

Slay.

More progress on my homebrew chapter's battle barge

I reduced the number of broadside guns, since most battle barges have ~5 broadside guns and this one is supposed to be more carrier-oriented, added turrets, and finished the first tier of roofing.

I'm still trying to figure out cell shading, and the back section needs a lot of work, but I'm happy with my progress today.

The Emperor's Children are a legion of femboys, of course they love cuddles.

Jokes aside, the background lore you gave is giving me inspiration for my Sons of the Phoenix army.

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this. PT 3.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

You have also forgotten I, Cato Sicarius, the most important and iconic member of the most esteemed Ultramarines space marine chapter.

thanks to @moociaoafterdark for this treasure >:3c

Objectively speaking, if reading it made your afternoon more enjoyable, it's good by at least one metric.

Objectively speaking, the fanfic I’m reading is not good, but my goodness, it’s made my afternoon that much more enjoyable