Latest Posts by fvaleraye-doodles - Page 3

Please Help.

Hey there everyone. So. Fun things happened today. We cannot remember if we mentioned it here, but a while ago, months ago, we got about... over $7K from an SSI fuck up, and our mom was holding onto it until we moved out. The. The idea being that we would take it with us, put it in a friend's account when we moved out with them.

Today we learned that she had spent literally all of it. And never told us. She spent every single cent of the money we were going to take with us because it wasn't "really" our money, despite her reassuring us when we got it that it was our money and we, Faye, were allowed to spend it however we wanted. Actually lied to us. Now we only have the $1000 we saved in our bank account and kept to our name. And we may have to dip into that to help with bills soon. We fully expect to have to fight our mother to get her to transfer the direct deposit of our SSI benefits to our roommate when we leave.

We have another. Nine. Months. Before we can move out with a friend and finally get out of here. We cannot get an ABLE account because it won't accept our bank account and says it's restricted. We were denied a direct deposit account and were never told why. All of our money will continue going to our mother for the next nine months. We cannot have a cent over $2000 in an account in our name without losing our benefits.

Here's what we're going to do.

Here are our commissions. Here is our Patreon. Here is our Ko-fi.

We. Would really appreciate. Some financial help. We want some amount of extra savings when we move out. Some. It's never going to be as much as we had before, but we want something. If you can't pay, then just reblog. Spread it around- send it directly to people who can help, who have disposable income, we don't care.

Please. Just help a girl out. Help a trans girl get out of her shitty home with a bit more extra money. Living is so expensive. And we have to survive another nine months in a hostile environment.

To celebrate finally getting anything written and posted, we redrew the ref of Exta Sillari, the main villain of Hunter for those of you that remember.

It's still mostly the same, but tried to push the "military royal" look we had when we originally designed her a bit more.

Reblogs are appreciated etc

Odd Jobs

heyyyyyyyy guys

it's been a while since we've posted any real writing, but we finished smth a few days ago. it's for Hunter, not Scintillam, sorry, but we had to write something and Hunter was what we could get ourself to type out, so Hunter is what you get "well why did it take you a few days to post it" well, for one, we had to get it proofread rq(thanks to @artnerd1123 for that <3), and secondly we just... kind of ended up overthinking ourself into a downward death spiral over it. we're not getting into why.

fun fact, actually- this third chapter of Hunter had over FIVE complete rewrites! some of those earlier versions are going to be reworked into later chapters, but the long and short of it is just "it feels too early to jump into the main meat of the story, and we have character building to do" so we're doing a bit more character building

anywhere, here u go

A small, desert planet. Relatively close to Terran Standard Hours, but not quite. Mostly empty, save for an early settlement or two, and a few camps. Temperate for most of the year, despite its ecology. Might not even need terraforming to grow plants. The main issue was the wildlife. But those were all facts for planetary settlers to worry about.

The planet’s gravity was what one was focused on today. It was slightly heavier than something like earth. Not enough to affect day to day life, for the most part.

But it was enough to affect the trajectory of a bullet. 

Bang. “Shit-!”

Nothing new to an interplanetary bounty hunter, however. Just some slight calibrations, that was all that was needed.  Raise the scope by a few micrometers. 

Bang.

Increase power to the chamber. 

Bang.

A few more micrometers, accounting for the heavier rounds.

Bang.

Steep walls around the camp, nestled in a ravine. Account for tailwind.

Bang.

A stomach flat on the ground. Low. Shields charged, just in case. Comfortable, laying next to a neat stack of fresh mags. The boxy magazines were heavy enough you could kill someone just by hitting them with it. The bullets were large, and each mag held two dozen. Quick kills, long distance, armor piercing. Perhaps a bit expensive to be shooting at common pirates, but everyone would get one. She made sure she brought enough to share with the whole class.

Two pirates stood nestled behind a rock, cowering from the shooting range their camp had turned into, rifles at the ready. Others were ducked tightly, hugging the ground around the camp as they found cover, while the unlucky ones littered the killbox. The armored ones had holes blown in their chest pieces. The more fragile ones had limb scattered about, a few heads that simply vanished.

“The fuck are you lot waitin’ for?!” The big one yelled from across the way, voice gravely and slightly distorted by a low quality speaker in his helmet. He was bulky, armored, with two sets of arms- clearly the leader, or the closest thing the pirates had to one left. “Get out there or-!”

“All due respect, hoss,” another called, human, frontier accent, “that ain’t happenin’.”

“It’s one hunter!” He bellowed in return towards his uppity accomplice. “One human-! They can’t kill us all!”

“True enough, everyone willin’ to gamble their heads in that open sightline, say aye!” He gave a snarky, shiteating grin as he glanced around at the sheer reluctance that permeated the camp. “... sounds like the crowd has spoken. God bless democracy.”

“Shut up, scragfuck-!”

Bang.

Everyone flinched, and one fell to the ground in a panic, nearly dropping his weapon as the bullet pierced his cover and impacted the dirt next to him.

“It was your idea to set up camp here, ‘hoss’.”  The big one growled, hunkering down as much as his frame and joints would allow.

“... that it were, that it were indeed.” He admitted, sucking in a reluctant breath of air. “I said it would be defensible, and… well, it is, but…”

“But, our gods damned camp is getting slaughtered by one sniper because there’s no scragfucking cover!”

“I am acutely aware, hoss-”

“Well then come up with a solution, ‘deputy’-!”

“I am working on it, scragshit-!”

Bang. “Fuck-!” The deep, bassy explosion of the bullet exiting the barrel once again shook the nerves of everyone in camp, this time managing to pierce the steel wall one was hiding behind, going limp from their prior crouched position.

He took a breath.

He looked around at everyone at camp, all the crouched figures, the one standing next to him, and all the bodies. He raised his gun around the rocky corner, slowly deliberately, and tossed it to the ground.

A moment of silence later, and he stepped out from his cover, hands up.

“What are you doing-?!” The boss whispered, gripping his weapon.

“Shh-!” He stepped forward, towards the mouth of the ravine. Bang. Everyone flinched, but no-one flinched quite as hard as the deputy, tripping over his own two feet and landing on his ass as the bullet landed mere inches from his foot. “Fuck-!”

“Not one step closer, ‘hoss’.” The voice on the other end of the scope called, voice modulated slightly and boosted moderately by the high quality speaker in her suit.

“I ain’t armed! See?” He gestured to the rifle on the ground, slowly accumulating desert dust as he slowly made his way to his feet, hands still in the air. “They pay more for alive than dead, don’t they? Like in the movies?” He forced a lighthearted chuckle, halfway between a smile and a wince.

“We may be in a desert, and you might be dressed like a cowboy, but this isn’t a western.” Ariis retorted, unmoving.

“Look- we… we got a lot of money back here!” He loosened his posture slightly, shrugging. “I’m just saying! We could pay ya a lot more than whatever those hick colonists are payin’ ya!”

“And you’ll shoot me in the back when I come to collect. Or you’ll try to, anyway. Cute.”

“No- ma’am, you have my word, on my gentlemanly honor,” he placed a hand on his chest, and one in the air, “no harm shall come to you, if you deliver no more harm unto us. You can take the money and go.”

“Is that even your real accent?”

His voice hitched a bit, stammering quietly and briefly. “I… y-yeah? ‘Course it is-”

“Oh, so you’re just leaning into the bit, then?”

“Well, I… I-I-I have a reputation to uphold, y’see.”

“I am aware.” She shot, coldly, finger menacingly depressing the trigger slightly, despite no living thing being close enough to witness the threat. “People pay a lot for reputations, ‘y’see’.”

He swallowed a ball of fear, glancing towards the sweet embrace of the rock he was previously hunkered behind.

“Unfortunately for you and your gang, your reputation is the sort that gets me paid just as good dead as alive, because they’re gonna kill you anyway.”

“... w-why uh… haven’t ya shot me, then?”

She shrugged invisibly, not disturbing her firing stance. “Curiosity, mostly.”

“... w-well… if it makes a lick a’ difference, uh… i-it ain’t my gang-”

“Semantics.” She sucked in air, holding it in her lungs.  “... and semantics isn’t my line of work.” Bang.

A shot through the heart, left arm ripped violently from its socket and flying halfway across the ravine. Dead, instantly.

Exhale.

“This is an odd job, boys.” She called from her perch, smiling under her helmet. “You know what that means? That means I don’t have anywhere better to be. Go ahead. If anyone else wants to be a hero or a smartass, then step forward.”

The stand off continued well into the night. It wasn’t until the sun broke the horizon that the last of them were dead. A few more bullets spent than she’d like, but such is life. Nobody’s perfect.

She took a few souvenirs, just things to show to the client to prove the job was done, and collect her reward. A shootout with some hick gang on a backwater planet… a far cry from the diplomatic assassination from months ago. But there always had to be smaller jobs like this when things got slow, to break up the monotony.

“And they’re all dead?” The representative questioned, looking the hunter up and down.

“Yes, I wouldn’t be back if they weren’t.” Ariis snapped, arms crossed as her attitude was growing increasingly cross. “I did all the paperwork. You can either give me my money, or I can file a complaint with my handler.”

“That- that won’t be necessary, miss Sol-” They coughed awkwardly, and started to fidget with a tablet. “The money will be in your account before you go offworld. Thank you for your service.”

She just wordlessly stepped out. Funny how she always felt more at home staring down a kill zone through a scope in a dusty ravine than in a clean office filing paperwork. Bureaucracy scared her more than any mark.

She was about to hop in her ship after that, at least until she saw a familiar ‘face’ lumbering his way up to her at the shipyard.

“Wait… is that-?”

[There she is.] The voice was deep, heavily modulated and very low quality, using an old speaker to broadcast an ancient translator in a patchwork junker of an environment suit. A juggernaut of a sentient, various multicolored tubes sticking out of and snaking into various ports.

“Uncle Guz!” She called, stepping back down from her ship’s side and towards him, meeting him halfway up the landing pad. “It’s been too long, what are you doing in this backwater?”

[Looking for you, actually.] He muttered, face hidden behind the emotionless, multi eyed faceplate of his env suit.

“For me?” She parroted skeptically. “... I’m guessing it’s not just to say hi.”

[Smart girl.] He handed a tablet off to her, staying silent for a moment as she browsed its contents. [Wanted to take you along for a jank. Gib. J-] Guz smacked the side of his helmet, a reverberating clang startling the technicians, but not Ariis. [Job.]

She just let out a sigh. “... this isn’t a salvage job.”

[Salvaging isn’t my only culling. Calling.] A very muffled, bubbly groan that wasn’t picked up by the translator barely managed to make its way out of the suit. He was going to need to replace that translator eventually.

“I know.” She handed the tablet back off, the giant shuffling it back into a pack at his side. “But still, was hoping we were going to get drinks or something.”

[Maybe after, toddler.] Another barely audible groan.

“Yeah, that nickname never translates well, even with the new ones.” She chuckled lightly. “Still, I just got done clearing pirates, and now I’m getting dragged along to kill more…”

[No-one is dragging you along.]

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not coming.” She tilted her head slightly. “You wanna take my ship? It’s faster.

[No. Too quiet. If a ship’s too quiet-]

“-then something’s broken, I know.” She sighed. “You’re attached to your junker.”

[Gertrude just has character.]

“A spaceship has as much character as you give it.” She turned on her heel, heading back towards her own spaceship. “See you there, then. Don’t break down on the way.”

[No promises.] Despite the monotone of the translator, she could feel the sarcasm as he turned and started to board his own characteristically boxy, patchwork ship. Compared to hers, it looked like a brick. That was part of its charm, though. Always was.

… never a dull day.

it wouldn't be a new blog of ours if we didn't accidentally post something to it instead of our personal at least once

Moving Forward

*sigh*

and there it is. years worth of work and passion completely obliterated. normally that's something someone would be upset about, but... honestly?

it's a part of our life we would never take back. it was a time of fun. we really just talked about anything on here, huh? you could tell it was our first time on social media, we had no filter. but it's also a time of our life we're eternally thankful is done and dusted.

we saw so many old faces deleting all those posts. people we never knew, people we miss, people we hope we never see again, people that have stuck with us to this day. art and writing that got us where we are, times when we wish we could take back, and times we miss. we said a lot of shit here, and now it's gone.

we're sorry to the people who sent submissions, who remembered the old art and writing from people who are no longer around and may be sad it's gone. much of it will live on in the blogs of the people who reblogged them, but so much is simply gone. we're sorry.

most of all, we're sorry to all the people who interacted with us during that time. the asks, the reblog chains. everything that's gone and never coming back. it was a fun time. this place used to be boppin'. we used to get so many asks and requests and headcanons that it was overwhelming. guess that's what happens when you advertise your blog by pitching its premise to one of the biggest undertale artists/writers of the time, huh? imagine that. if we had never shilled shamelessly to that1nkyone, our life would have been completely different. it feels bad deleting so much history. we'd never take back everything that happened, but we can't cope with the baggage anymore.

the lycan frisk au will always live in on in our heart, and we do still to this day think about it sometimes. it gave us friends, people we'd consider family, and even our first, and current, love. but, unfortunately, it's attached to a horrendous part of our life that we're thankful to be rid of, and ready to move on. it's time to say goodbye.

from now on, this will be an art only blog. we're probably not going to reblog all of our art from our main rn. that'd be too much work after deleting 950 posts and staring at the color purple for so long that our perception of color shifted. we'll reblog art going forward.

you're welcome to leave. you're welcome to stay and join us on the journey that is our life as it has been since leaving this part of it behind. we're finally leaving its shadow.

to everyone who will stay with us, thank you. we hope we can get to know you better now, and we hope that you might just have an interest in what we do nowadays. again, our personal and main blog is @fvaleraye, if you want to catch up.

to everyone who will inevitably leave, thank you for your time. it was fun. but it's time to move on. we don't blame you. we still love undertale, but this au and the part of our life it's attached to needs to be put to bed.

thank you for everything. we look forward to moving forward.

visual rebrand is essentially done, might change icons and headers etc at our discretion, still have various things to do like links and etc, but for now comes the hard part.

we have nearly 1000 posts to sift through.

god help us.

we've considered rebranding this blog and just turning it into a genuine gateway to the blog we actually use. we don't want any more real people following this blog under the illusion that there will be content of the au advertised- despite our STRESSING in the pinned comment that this blog is dead- and honestly at this point we feel like just stripping the fandom paint off of our blog completely and just using it to point towards our real blog is probably the best way to do it. because this blog as it is right now isn't coming back, lets be real. but we can't delete it. because it's our "main", and our actual main is a sideblog. and it'd be less of a pain in the ass than just making a new account.

besides, if we rebrand it, we might be able to figure out something to do with it. we might just turn it into an art only blog. we need one of those anyway. as a reminder, our actual blog is @fvaleraye. all our current content is there.

we might also delete our old writing, simply because it's... it's all so old and bad. but also we never really backed up any of these drabbles, they were mostly written directly on tumblr with few exceptions, so if we deleted them they'd just be gone. and that's like... kind of sad? we don't know. we'll decide.

speaking of deleting, actually, we will go through our followers list, once we strip the paint off, and block suspected bots, dead blogs, etc. fair warning.

tldr; this blog might see use again soon- but not as a fandom blog, we're probably going to turn it into an art-only blog. if you were here expecting more ut au content, sorry, but here's your chance to bail if that disappoints you. we won't mind.