Please read this because it is EXTREMELY important me (a transgender man) and to other trans individuals.
The US Government is currently trying to pass an incredibly dangerous national law for trans youth called HR 2616.
This bill would ban all Federally funded schools from teaching about gender identity or sexual orientation, prevent teachers from using the correct pronouns and names for trans students, remove books with any trans representation in them, and even go as far as to prevent teachers from acknowledging trans identity AT ALL.
Any school that does not follow this will lose all federal funding. This bill would also require teachers to forcibly out trans students to their families, which would be fatal to any trans student with a transphobic Family or just hateful family in general. Trans people are already a group that already has some of the highest rates of being victim to suicide, domestic violence, and sexual assault.
This bill actively makes teachers put those innocent children at such a big risk. This bill has rapidly passed the house this week with support from all 209 republicans, as well as 8 democrats. But, it's still being voted on in the senate, which means there is still time to help stop this.
To help stop this, you can visit 5calls.org (look up 2616 in the search bar), one of the most top issues filed Oppose Attacks on LGBTQ+ Students. Once you put in your general location, it will pull-up contact information for your senator, and give you a script for calling them.
If you are a minor and/or do not feel comfortable doing this, PLEASE repost this on here, or any other platform you are on/can find! This needs to be heard and fought against.
It wasn’t supposed to keep going this long. Robert knew that.
Yet he couldn’t let go.
~~~~~~
A distress report came in from a gathering of fishing boats three kilometers off the coast— damaged nets, deep gouges carved into the hulls, one sailor dragged overboard badly enough to need stitches. The culprit was supposedly an aggressive merman haunting the waters near the reef shelf.
Nothing unusual.
Most conflicts between merfolk and humans came down to injury, territorial disputes, or panic. Robert had handled dozens over the years working with the aquarium’s marine rehabilitation division. Usually a sedative dart, some patience, and a temporary holding tank solved the problem.
Usually.. ..
The first time Robert encountered him had been six months earlier during a storm rescue operation.
A fishermans boat had crossed illegally into protected migration waters . Visibility was terrible— rain lightning and thunder the whole works. Robert remembered shouting through the radio while the engines screamed beneath him.
When the net had surfaced it wasnt empty.
Something inside it had thrashed hard enough to snap the steel hooks in a panic one of the crew tried cutting the lines loose. Robert still remembered the sound more than the sight— a wet, horrible tearing noise swallowed by thunder.
Two fingers hit the deck first.
Then blood.
Bright red against rainwater.
The creature broke free before Robert could stop it.
A flash of blazing orange and reds disappeared beneath the sea, Robert had dived after him despite the storm, lungs burning, hands numb from cold, but the ocean swallowed him whole.
But it ..he ? Was gone.
No blood trail. Nothing.
Robert filed the report himself afterward:
Failure to secure injured specimen.
He thought about it more often than he should have.
And now here he was again, staring through reinforced aquarium glass at the same creature he’d failed.
The interns had affectionatly named him Flambae.
Stupid name. Ridiculous, honestly. But it stuck almost immediately because of the patterns along his tail— vivid streaks of molten orange fading into black scales, like flames .
And God, he was violent just like them.
Caretakers came out bleeding more often than not. He bit through gloves, shattered feeding poles against the tank walls, slammed his own body hard enough against the acrylic that alarms triggered across the rehabilitation wing. The missing fingers on his left hand had healed badly, jagged scar tissue visible on the two nubs
Robert had never seen a merman sustain that level of aggression for so long.
Progress with Flambae remained nonexistent for nearly three weeks after his arrival.
He attacked handlers on sight. Refused enrichment. Refused medication unless sedated first. The acrylic walls of his enclosure were webbed with stress fractures from the force of his body slamming against them during episodes. Every morning Robert arrived expecting another incident report waiting on his desk.
Most of the staff had started avoiding Rehabilitation Wing C entirely.
“You should transfer the huge fucker” chase an older handler and robert mentor gumbled after Flambae nearly dislocated a caretaker’s shoulder during feeding. “He’s too unstable.”
Robert only stared through the observation glass.
Flambae floated near the bottom of the tank tail curled beneath him, fiery patterns dim beneath sterile aquarium lighting.
And still—
every time Robert entered the room, those amber eyes followed him.
Always him.
It should have unsettled him more than it did.
—
Then it happened
A cargo vessel had passed too close to the aquarium docks that morning, its engine vibrations carrying through the facility . The moment Flambae heard it, he went feral.
By the time Robert arrived, the enclosure looked catastrophic.
One of the enrichment structures had been ripped apart.Flambae thrashed hard enough to trigger warning alarms throughout the wing.
Then Robert saw the blood.
Dark streaks drifting through seawater.
“Shit—”
Flambae had torn open his tail against exposed metal during the frenzy. The scarred area where his missing fingers had healed split open again, scales shredded badly enough that blood clouded around him ...I'm not finishing this Dawg lmao just imagine Robert tending to flambae and he gets obsessive Yada Yada like u said in last post
You ever just go through centuries long conflict, become reassembled into something different, then suddenly appear on an island in your original form with the most strangest group of people, one of which who is constantly shouting at the sea about his love life and the other two are just doing aerobics on the other side of the beach?
⭐✨ Illustrations + short comics comm info ✨⭐
OCs/rareships/OCxcanon/yume are always welcome!
💌 for comics: only 1 slot per month -> DM to claim any month's slot / dialogues are optional + no limit on number of characters
💌 for illust: fill out the form or DM to comm
reblogs appreciated 💖
Here you can donate to the families in Gaza. We have collected $3,312 / $20,000. 🙏🙏
The voice of truth for every Palestinian 🇵🇸
An Israeli soldier is seen firing randomly toward civilian homes and displacement tents in Gaza, describing the act as “for entertainment.”
At a time when civilians are being killed daily by stray bullets coming from the eastern areas of the Strip, violence is treated as a game wituhout accountability, and without humanity.
This is not an “isolated incident.”
This is not a “mistake.”
It reflects a reality where civilians are dehumanized and treated as targets.
Documenting these acts is a duty.
Silence is complicity.
After the ceasefire !!
Airstrikes targeting displacement tents in Gaza despite claims of a ceasefire and narratives that the war has “ended.”
For civilians on the ground, there is no post-war reality. There is no safety. Only changing methods of the same violence.
A ceasefire on paper does not stop bombs in the sky.
And declarations of peace mean nothing when tents are still being bombed.
Donations for GAZA!!
This donation campaign is for ANAS family. Not for strangers, not for a cause I'm distant from but for the people who raised me, the people I love, the people I'm terrified of losing.
They are in Gaza, trying to survive something no human being should ever have to endure. Constant bombardment, displacement, hunger, fear, and the feeling that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Every day is about staying alive one more night.
If you choose to help, you are not donating to an abstract crisis. You are helping real people with names, memories, and lives that matter to me more than anything.
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