#I do have another blog for an interest i keep to myself but that one will stay a mystery

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

[yeleltaan]

//As is usually the case around this time of the year, I’m terribly busy with studies and it’s been hard for me to do things on the blog in the little spare time I have, I can’t focus very well.

It will pass soon, and hopefully after that I can resume the work of giving this blog a little more life. The itch to write is still there and I can’t wait to be free to scratch it.

[sorcerous-caress]

I hope you are doing well

Did I- Did I make it seem like I'm going crazy or something? Like yes I am okay, I promise.

Well, no. I lied, but I'm not worse than normal. I have always been this deranged. It is not out of the ordinary. Why the concerns now?

But thank you anyways, I hope you're doing well too.

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[phjlavtia]

the thing is i Have written some stuff analyzing characters and i do think i am very right on those despite not being anything groundbreaking or smth. however they'll be forever hidden either in chats w my closest friends or in my private side blog bc i am Very ashamed to actually put my mind into analyzing media from my childhood. its like idk. very embarrassing in some way

[minas-linkverse]

Hi everybody, I've been meaning to make this post for a while, but just havent found the right brainspace... 😞

◇ This comic is on HITAUS ◇

I'm really sorry for such sucky news, you've all been so supportive and kind so it pains me to disappoint you. However I also know most of you wouldn't want me forcing myself to draw against my will.

Don't get me wrong, I love this comic and hope to return to it again one day. I've put my whole heart into it and in return many of my comic artist dreams have come true (Thanks to all of you!) I treasure what we have here deeply.

However I have many interests and goals, and they've shifted away from this comic as time has gone by.

For example: I promised myself to finish the third draft of my book this year, and before I knew it half the year has gone by... I know I can do this, but I've only finished 15 out of 36 chapters so the pressure is on!!

Also although the Zelda franchise will always be close to my heart, my fellow special interest havers know as well as I that these things tend to come in phases. We'll see when that fire ignites again. 🤔 I want to create only when my heart is in it.

If you still want to support me as an artist and see what I get up to, you can check my art blog @minart-was-taken ✌I'd be happy to see you all there.

And another sorry and thank you to you all. I'll keep checking on this blog so don't think of it as abandoned, just... quiet.

See you 💛💛

[ohnoitstbskyen]

PINNED POST, FAQ, INFORMATION

Hi, I'm TBSkyen. I make videos on YouTube sometimes. This is my main tumblr blog, the "brand" blog as it were, where I maintain my Social Media Presence™ on this site.

I use the ironic ™ to signal my personal discomfort with the work of being a minor media personality even while I still do that work and make a living off it.

I have a sideblog called @tbposting, mostly for shitposts and reblogs, and in my opinion I have pretty darn good taste in reblogs, so you can follow that if you want. It's also where I'll do random personal posting, microblogging, etc.

This main blog is primarily for 1) answering asks, and 2) posting my Original Content™, usually my main channel videos, as well as the occasional longer essay or critique. Sometimes I'll reblog an interesting or useful thing, or boost a friend's work, but I try to keep the spam to a minimum.

---

About Me

I am a thirtysomething content creator whose primary expertise is character design.

I have a bachelor's degree in English, never finished my master's, did most of a bachelor's degree in history, and that's it. These are my academic qualifications, no more and no less.

My professional experience is primarily being a freelancer and self-employed creator. I spent the better part of a decade working as a commission artist, running webcomics, drawing fanart, and the occasional animation work and not safe for work commissions, and I have at this point a decade of experience and self-study in the subjects I cover. I have also done online community management for, god help me, almost twenty years, so that's a part of my skillset I'll never escape.

I do not have any particular professional creative industry experience, although given what I hear from my professional friends, sometimes that seems like a blessing.

Please maintain a critical distance when engaging with my work. I am a critic. My work is very rarely meant to be taken as authoritative or didactic, and when it is, I will make it clear in my writing. Just because I speak with confidence doesn't mean I am trying to assert objective truth.

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TAGS (to follow, or filter)

#tbanswers is the tag for every single ask I answer on this blog

#tb reblog is the tag for reblogs

#tb essay is for the occasional longer essay or critical writing

#tbvideos is for my videos and Content™

#tb recommends is for the occasional recommendation of a video essay or other creator

Yes, I know the spaces are inconsistent. It's not on purpose, I just typed them in haphazardly when I started using them and it's stuck.

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FAQ (before you ask)

Q: Will you ever do a video about ____ ? A: The answer to this question is almost universally "maybe someday, if I have time, and if I feel I have anything worthwhile to say." And the more realistic answer is "no, because I already have far too much on my plate and I have burned myself out too many times." In general, please don't ask me this question, I will most likely not answer it because I have given the same answer a thousand times, but I still feel guilty about not answering them.

Q: Will you continue your series of videos about ____ ? A: Yes! I will continue the let's plays I started, I will finish the Boss Designs series, I will do another What's the Deal With, I will do more shorts about the subjects I've got going on. The main obstacle is, again, my tendency to overload myself.

Q: Do you have a PO box? Can I send you something? A: Not yet, but I'm looking into it. It may be a while before I get it set up.

Q: Do you have merchandise? A: A little bit, yes, at tbskyen.redbubble.com.

Q: What's your opinion on [game/movie/comic/book/etc]? A: I struggle to answer very open, broad questions like this. Most things I have opinions about, I have multiple opinions, and different ones depending on the perspective and specific element in question. I'm much more likely to answer specific, bounded questions.

Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!

Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.

Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.

The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?

Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.

I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.

And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.

Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.

[transmutationisms]

I have always been wary of the psychiatric industry, but its only very recently that i started to read anti-psychiatric works. Your blog is the first time i saw that the "chemical imbalances causing mental illness" is a myth, and honestly its something im having a hard time wrapping my head around.

Is it that mood regulation struggles, labelled as a mental illnesses, has more to do with outside factors instead of the person "just being that way"? Is it therefore unlikely for someone to have struggles with mood regulation if they cant identify any external causes that would cause them to be, for example, extremely agoraphobic or to have anger management issues? Im asking this for myself mainly, cause i always had intense agoraphobia no matter how i often go outside my home (in fact it was worse when i was a teen and i was outside the house in even more back then). I cant think of any reason for me to be like this than chemical imbalances in my brain.

the specific 'chemical imbalance' myth i was talking about in this post is the idea that depression is caused by low serotonin, and that therefore SSRIs—serotonin re-uptake inhibitors, ie drugs that cause a higher level of serotonin in the brain—ought to cure or at least ameliorate depression. this conjecture is belied by the fact that SSRIs don't, at a population level, reliably perform better than placebo.

although a neurobiological cause of 'mental illness' has long been the holy grail of psychiatry, the serotonin imbalance myth is far from the only hypothesis that psychiatrists and neuroscientists have proposed. so, a critique of the serotonin myth is not synonymous with, or generalisable to, a critique of every neurobiological mechanism purported to explain psychiatric diagnoses. you may be interested to know, though, that genomics and neuroscience have not identified a biological cause of any psychiatric diagnosis (p. 851).

all human experiences are biologically instantiated, including in the brain and wider nervous system. we are embodied beings. however, it is a leap to assume that such instantiation is automatically equivalent to a causal explanation or disease etiology. in other words, to deny that psychiatric diagnoses are known to be biologically caused does not mean we deny that thoughts and thought patterns express in the physical matter of neuroanatomy. this is a major philosophical sticking point to keep in mind whenever you're looking at something like, eg, a study that purports to show 'brain differences' in those assigned a certain psychiatric diagnosis. another thing to consider is whether these papers are plagued with methodological issues or financial conflicts of interest.

i can't possibly tell you why you exhibit agoraphobia. however, when i talk about social, economic, and environmental factors that may contribute to the patterns of behaviour labelled as 'mental illness', i'm talking about much more than the individual choice to leave your house. since phobias are 'anxiety disorders', i might start by probing into questions like: is the world you live in safe? do you perceive it as safe? do you or your community face existential threats that may confront you more obviously when you go outside? are you nervous around other people, and if so, might that be connected to fears (well-founded or not) about interpersonal violence and harm? do you think any of these anxieties may be connected to the hostility and inaccessible design of the social environment and economic conditions?

human behaviour and thought varies. some of those variations may be totally benign; others may be helpful or harmful to the person living with them. it would be weird if every single one of the 8 billion people on earth experienced precisely the same amount of anxiety about any situation, no? all of this is to say: yeah, it's entirely possible you have been, for one reason or another (genetic, neuroanatomical, social, &c) predisposed to experience high, even debilitating levels of anxiety when leaving your home. most human characteristics develop from a tangle of social, environmental, material causes—ie, from a combination of 'nature' and 'nurture'. what doesn't follow, though, is the claim that there is therefore a discrete, 'diseased' element of your brain or brain functioning that can simply be cured or eliminated through psychiatric intervention.

it is a critical point of anti-psychiatry to challenge psychiatric and neuroscientific claims to neurobiological determinism where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for many reasons, including: a) that these claims have not been demonstrated to actually be true [see above]; b) that they rob pathologised people of agency and self-determination [see: you're too sick to know you're sick, and the doctor will fix you now]; c) that they are often pushed by pharmaceutical companies with financial interests, or grant-funded researchers with... financial interests; d) that they are politically seductive in various eugenic, hereditarian discourses that seek to eliminate the biologically 'unfit' element from society.

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[ironstrange1991]

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks  until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[kckt88]

Hidden In Plain Sight.

Summary:

The dance is done and Aemond has been crowned King, after being pressured by his council he followed through on his marriage to Floris Baratheon. However Aemond holds no love for the wife that he was forced to take and instead continues to seek the company of his true love, his niece Jacaera.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Langauage, Reference to Captivity, References to Smut, Infidelity, Character Death, Manipulation, Scheming.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C NIECE

Word Count: 8419

GREENS WIN - AEMOND IS KING!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

"Another one—have you no shame, Aemond? What of your wife?" fumed Alicent, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

Aemond's eye remained fixed on the dark liquid in his cup, swirling it gently. He had no love for Floris Baratheon, the wife forced upon him by his mother and the council after the war.

Floris, with her Baratheon blood and boring demeanour, could never compare to his niece, his beloved sweet Jacaera.

Aemond's thoughts drifted to Jacaera, the warmth of her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed and the way she would gasp and moan his name as he feasted on her delicious cunt like a man starved, or how she looked when she peaked around his cock.

Although he would never forget the look of hurt on her face when he told her that he would have to follow through on his promise and take Floris as his wife.

He explained that he held no care or love for Floris, that she would never have his heart he had begged for her mercy, for her understanding, and she eventually granted it. His dragoness was vicious with him that night, clawing at his body and sinking her teeth into his flesh as he fucked her hard.

Not too long after his wedding, Jacaera had given him the news that she was with child, and it pleased him immensely.

He had granted her rooms in one of the towers in the Red Keep, keeping her away from the eyes of his lady wife, who he held no interest for.

He would visit his niece often, admiring her belly swollen with his seed. He would spend hours curled up with her, his hands running over her soft flesh, feeling the babe within move.

He was truly blessed the day she birthed his babe, marvelling at the wonderous gift she had granted him, not one but two babes. His sons, his little dragons.

Oh, how perfect they were, their silver hair and amethyst eyes.

He cared not for the opinions of his council, his mother or even his wife who’s face quickly soured with jealousy when word of his sons reached her.

Admittedly she did try to be a good Queen and wife, but it was all for naught, for his heart, mind and soul belonged to Jacaera.

Every moment he was not attending to his duty as King he was with his sons, determined to be the father he never had, his sons would know of him, the would know of his love and they would know above all that they were wanted.

"-Aemond, are you even listening to me?" Alicent's voice brought him back to the present. Her green eyes were fierce, a storm brewing within them.

He looked up at his mother, his expression calm despite the turmoil around him. "I hear you, Mother," he replied, his voice steady. "But what is done is done”

Alicent's face contorted with frustration and sorrow. "Your actions have consequences, Aemond. You cannot simply disregard your responsibilities. Floris is your wife, and you have a duty to her."

"Duty," Aemond repeated, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "All I’ve done is my duty and where has that got me? Where has that got us? the war has taken its toll, on us and the realm. What about my duty to myself? To my own happiness?"

Alicent shook her head, her voice softening. "Happiness, Aemond, comes with sacrifice. Your rule as King is precarious, your Queen is not with child-the council ceaselessly whisper about your lack of heir”.

“The fault is not mine, as I seem to have no trouble siring children with Jacaera-“

“Perhaps if you lay with your wife more often than that bastard girl, then you would be blessed with trueborn children."

Aemond's grip tightened on the cup. "Floris does not rouse my-interest. You knew I never wanted her. Yet you and the rest of the dogs on the council forced her upon me, knowing where my heart truly lies."

Alicent's eyes narrowed. "Matters of the heart do not compare to the matters of the realm. Your known taste for strong bastards only serves to bring shame and embarrassment to your reign."

The veiled reference to his rumoured involvement with the witch Alys Rivers did not go unnoticed. Aemond's jaw clenched, but he refused to be swayed. "I will not set aside Jacaera."

Alicent paced the length of Aemond's chambers, her fury barely contained. The girl should have been executed the moment she was brought to the Red Keep, but Aemond's obsession for her had prevented such an act. He had pleaded with Aegon to let him keep her, and to her utter horror, Aegon had agreed.

Aemond would then spend hours sequestered away in his chambers with the bastard girl.

Sometimes, Alicent would receive reports of raised voices and the sounds of things being thrown, the maids witness to the destruction of their arguments.

But then there would be reports of noises of pleasure, unmistakable and shameless. Aemond's need for Jacaera was evident, and he showed no concern for discretion, not then and certainly not now.

Alicent's face twisted with disgust “You are shameless in your need for her."

Aemond's expression remained impassive, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his features. "Jacaera is not the monster you paint her to be. She is—"

"A vicious seductress who has bewitched my favoured son!" Alicent cut him off, her voice rising. "She is nothing more than a remnant of Rhaenyra's treachery. You disgrace yourself and your reign by keeping her."

Aemond stood, his tall frame towering over his mother. "My reign, Mother. Not yours. And I will decide what brings disgrace and what does not-Jacaera is mine, and I will not set her aside."

Alicent's shoulders sagged slightly, the fight seeming to drain out of her. "You are blind, Aemond. Blind to the destruction this will bring."

Aemond turned away, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. "I am not blind, Mother. I see clearly. And what I see is Jacaera by my side."

Alicent's heart ached with a mother's anguish, knowing her words had fallen on deaf ears. She turned and left the chambers, the sound of the door closing echoing the finality of their argument.

Aemond strode down the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep towards the tower where Jacaera and their children lived.

His anticipation of seeing his beloved and their children was already spreading through his body, his eagerness to see them saw him taking the steps two at a time.

He passed the guards lined up again the walls of the corridor, bowing their heads respectfully as he passed by.

The guards standing outside the doors quickly moved aside, as he approached.

As soon as the doors opened and he entered the room, he was greeted with a loud chorus of "Daddy!"

Rhaegar and Aerys, his two-year-old sons, reached out for him with bright, eager eyes. Aemond's stern demeanour softened, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he lifted both of his sons into his arms.

Both boys nuzzled into him, their small hands clutching at his tunic. The warmth of their affection filling him with a rare sense of peace.

He looked over at Jacaera, who was sitting on one of the sofas, gods how beautiful she was, wavy dark hair and amethyst eyes with a hand was pressed against her slightly rounded stomach, a sign of the new life growing within her.

For all the turmoil and disapproval from his mother and the court, here in this room, with Jacaera and their sons, he found a sanctuary, a place where he wasn’t bound by duty, a place where he wasn’t the King, a place where he was just Aemond.

Jacaera looked towards him and smiled, beckoning him over with a flick of her wrist.

Aemond crossed the room, settling beside Jacaera while still holding the boys. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice softened by concern.

"Better now that you're here," Jacaera replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

Aemond smiled as he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady but carrying a hint of reluctance.

"I need to go to Harrenhal for a couple of days," he began, his voice steady. "I'll ensure there are sufficient guards here. If you desire to take the boys into the gardens, you may do so."

Jacaera's expression shifted slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. "Will you be safe?"

"I will," he assured her, squeezing her hand gently. "But there is something else I need to tell you. My mother has been pressuring me about having children with Floris."

Jacaera visibly tensed, her discomfort clear. She glanced at their sons, then back at Aemond. "Can we have one of the nannies take the boys to their bedroom to play with their toys?"

Aemond nodded, calling for a nanny to escort Rhaegar and Aerys out. Once the boys were gone, Jacaera turned to Aemond, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I do not wish to hear about your wife. I don’t want to think of you laying with her."

Aemond’s heart clenched at the pain in her voice. He reached out, pulling her into his arms. "Jacaera, please," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "You know where my heart truly lies."

She looked up at him, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It doesn’t make it any easier, Aemond. Knowing you have to be with her, even if you don't want to. It hurts."

Aemond held her tightly, stroking her hair. "I hate it too. But you are the one I love, the one I want to be with. This is not easy for me either."

Jacaera buried her face in his chest, her body trembling with silent sobs. "I just want you here with me and the boys. I want us to be a proper family."

Aemond kissed the top of her head, wishing he could give her that simple, peaceful life. "I promise, I will always come back to you, and I promise that it won’t be for much longer, I have a plan-"

Floris stood silently on the balcony overlooking the gardens, her heart heavy with bitterness. Below, Jacaera played with Rhaegar and Aerys, their laughter and playful voices drifting up to where she stood.

The sight of her husband’s bastard children with Jacaera only served to inflame her jealousy. Aemond was her husband, yet he showed no interest in her, he would only speak to her when necessary and on the rare occasion when he did bed her, he wouldn’t grant her any lingering kisses or soft touches he would simply unlace his breeches, take her from behind and leave as soon as he spilled his seed.

One night she dared to follow him to the sprawling tower where he kept Jacaera and his bastard sons, and she watched through a crack in the door as he bid goodnight to his silver haired sons and then took Jacaera to bed.

She watched aghast as he sunk to his knees and worshipped Jacaera, his head between her legs as he devoured her, his lips pressing kisses to every inch of her skin, his hands caressing her, and finally his cock sheathed deep inside her.

The sway of his long silver hair and the taut of his muscles as he fucked his strong bastard mistress, his unrestrained moans and loud grunts of pleasure as he took her in a multitude of positions, the way his eye rolled back into his head as he spilled his seed inside her.

Never had she seen her husband in such a manner, and it made her all the more envious of that dark haired bastard, the whore thief who had stolen her husband-

Suddenly her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a cane tapping against the stone floor. Larys Strong approached, his presence as unsettling as ever.

He inclined his head slightly in greeting. "My Queen," he said, his tone smooth. "I bring news. The King has departed for Harrenhal on the back of Vhagar. He will return in a few days."

At the mention of Harrenhal, Floris’s curiosity was piqued. "Harrenhal?" she repeated, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Isn’t that where Alys Rivers resides?"

Larys' eyes gleamed with a hint of amusement. "Harrenhal is now indeed ruled by a woman. Aemond gifted it to her in gratitude for her-services."

Floris’s stomach churned. "And Aemond’s relationship with Alys?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Larys shrugged, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Merely rumours, Your Grace. But there is said to be a silver-haired child running around the halls of Harrenhal."

Floris' heart sank further, despair settling in her chest. Larys, ever the observer, added with a touch of sarcasm, "The King does seem to have particular tastes when it comes to women."

Floris looked away, her mind reeling. Her husband’s heart and loyalty seemed scattered, entangled with other women, other children. She felt trapped in a marriage that was little more than a political arrangement, her desires and needs cast aside.

Watching Jacaera and her sons below, she couldn’t help but envy the love and attention they received from Aemond, a love she feared she would never know.

Larys leaned closer to Floris, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You should not hold it against the King. Some men are weak to the wiles of women. My brother Harwin suffered a similar affliction when he became involved with Rhaenyra. It seems Jacaera has inherited her mother's ability to seduce men she shouldn't."

Floris' gaze remained fixed on Jacaera and the boys as they played in the garden below. Larys' words wrapped around her like a serpent's coil, feeding her resentment. "It is an insult for the King to sire children upon the undeserving," he continued, his tone methodical and cold. "To see him fawn over his bastard mistress while you, his rightful wife, are neglected."

Floris's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white with tension. "It would be easier if they weren't around," she murmured, almost to herself. "If Jacaera and her sons were gone, maybe Aemond would come to act as a husband should, and we could, in time, be happy."

Larys' smile was slow and calculating. "If that is truly your wish, Your Grace, then it shall be done."

Floris's heart pounded, a mix of fear and hope flooding her veins. She turned to look at Larys, a question in her eyes, but he simply nodded and hobbled away, the sound of his cane echoing through the air,

Aemond arrived at Harrenhal astride Vhagar, the colossal dragon's landing shaking the ground with tremendous force. Dust and debris swirled in the air as Vhagar's mighty wings beat one last time before folding. Aemond unhooked his riding chains and descended down the rope ladder with practiced ease.

A guard approached and bowed deeply. "Your Grace," he said respectfully. "How may I serve you?"

"I'm here to see the Lady Alys," Aemond replied curtly.

The guard nodded, understanding the gravity of the king's presence, and escorted him through the winding halls of Harrenhal to Alys’ covenstead.

The room was dimly lit, filled with shelves of jars containing unknown and mysterious ingredients. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and smoke.

Alys was sitting cross-legged before the fireplace, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. She looked up as Aemond entered, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "I knew you would come," she said, her voice soft and eerie. "I saw it in the flames."

Aemond stepped closer, his expression serious. "I need more of the potion you gave me."

Alys rose gracefully and retrieved an ornate glass bottle from a high shelf, its contents shimmering in the firelight. She handed it to him, her eyes never leaving his. "Like I said—I knew you would come."

“Hmmm”

As Aemond took the bottle, Alys' tone shifted, her gaze piercing. "Is your Storm Queen aware of what you are doing?" she asked pointedly.

Aemond's jaw tightened slightly. "Floris is aware of my involvement with Jacaera. I've never hidden it from her."

Alys shook her head slowly, a wry smile playing on her lips as she motioned towards the bottle in his hand—the potion much stronger than moontea that would temporarily render Floris unable to bear children. "That's not what I'm referring to," she said softly. "Does it truly turn your stomach to lay with your lady wife and have your seed take root?"

Aemond hesitated, his gaze flickering. "She is not the woman I wish for-nor one I desire" he admitted finally, his voice low.

Alys leaned forward, her expression intense. "There are ways to rid yourself of her without degrading yourself in such a manner," she murmured, her voice laced with suggestion. "Your uncle was no stranger to the need to rid himself of his bronze bitch-perhaps his method could be of use to you”.

“As much as I have no love for my wife-I will not stand above her with a rock in hand-her inability to provide me with children will serve as reason enough to annul our marriage-leaving me free to wed Jacaera, as I should have done in the first place” said Aemond as he pocketed the bottle, his gaze lingering on Alys as she moved back to the fireplace.

She began muttering nonsensically, her hands weaving through the flames.

"What do you see?" Aemond asked, a mix of curiosity and impatience in his voice.

Alys's eyes flickered with an otherworldly light. "An opportunity to rid yourself of the undesired Queen will soon present itself," she said cryptically. "The firefly will do its work."

Aemond frowned, trying to decipher her words. "The firefly?" he repeated.

Alys nodded, her gaze distant and mystical. "Yes, the firefly. It will lead you to what you desire. But beware of those who walk in the shadows of truth and lies-false tongues and spilled blood- the sound of wood against the stone-"

Suddenly their discussion was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. A silver-haired child, small and curious, toddled in, calling out for his "mummy."

Alys' smile was warm and loving as she picked up the child, her green eyes glinting with maternal affection. The boy's gaze turned to Aemond, his innocence a stark contrast to the weight of the world around them.

Aemond greeted the boy kindly. "Aeron, I have something for you-for your recent name day" he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small wooden carving of a dragon.

Aeron's eyes lit up with delight as he took the gift, thanking Aemond with a shy smile before toddling out of the room again.

Alys watched her son leave with a fond smile before turning back to Aemond. "That was kind of you," she remarked softly.

Aemond's expression softened. "Whilst he is blood of the dragon, unfortunately it's the closest he will ever come to having a dragon of his own."

Alys nodded thoughtfully, her mind drifting to deeper thoughts. "Imagine the calamity the would ensue if the King were to grant a dragonseed a dragon's egg," she pondered aloud.

Aemond's brow furrowed slightly. "There are enough rumours about the boy as it is," he replied evenly. "There doesn't need to be any more."

Alys laughed lightly, the sound echoing softly in the room. "Ahh the absurdity of such rumours," she said with a shake of her head. "That you, are Aeron's sire-imagine if the people of the realm knew the truth-that my son belongs to Daemon.”

Aemond nodded thoughtfully at Alys' words. "The people of the realm like to make up stories," he murmured, almost to himself. "They tell each other these tales over and over until they forget that it's a lie."

Alys nodded knowingly, her expression grave. "Indeed, there are many lies in the game of thrones," she replied. "Be careful to what you pay attention, Your Grace."

Aemond absorbed her cautionary words, understanding the depth of her advice. Before he could respond, Alys continued with a sense of finality, "It's time for you to return to the Red Keep. The firefly has sown the seeds of discord, and you should return to see them bare fruit, but beware of the wood on stone-"

He offered Alys a nod of gratitude for the potion she had provided, a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding.

As he turned to leave, his mind already drifting to the political machinations awaiting him in King's Landing, he didn't catch Alys' last quiet musing.

"You won't be needing it," she whispered, her voice lost to the crackle of the fire and the echoes of power that reverberated within the ancient walls of Harrenhal.

Aemond flew back to King's Landing atop Vhagar, the massive dragon's wings slicing through the sky with force. The journey was swift, driven by Aemond's urgency to return to Jacaera and his sons.

Upon landing, he dismounted Vhagar and made his way through the castle, his Kings guard following quietly behind him. He ascended the steps of the tower that led to Jacaera's chambers, noticing the unusual silence that enveloped the corridors. There were no guards on duty, an anomaly that sent a chill down his spine.

As he approached the door to Jacaera's room, he saw it was ajar. His instincts sharpened, and he unsheathed his sword, pushing the door open with caution. "Jacaera-Issa jorrāelagon?" he called out, his voice echoing in the unsettling quiet. "Rhaegar? Aerys? Byka zaldrīzoti " (My love, little dragons).

There was no answer, only a heavy, oppressive silence. He stepped into the room, his eye scanning the scene before him. Chaos reigned—chairs were overturned, glass lay shattered across the floor, and various belongings were strewn about.

But it was the sight of blood, dark and staining the floor, spilling in every direction, that froze Aemond in place.

"NO-" he cried out in horror, his heart breaking as he took in the carnage.

His Kings guard spread out, searching the room with grim efficiency, but there were no signs of Jacaera or the boys. The blood trail suggested a violent struggle, and Aemond's mind raced with the possibilities of what could have happened.

"Your Grace" one of the guards said, his voice grave. "There's no sign of them here. We must search the entire keep."

Aemond nodded, his face a mask of fury and despair. "FIND THEM” he commanded. "Search every room, every corner. Do not rest until they are found."

The guards moved quickly, leaving Aemond alone in the ruined room. He stared at the blood on the floor, a sickening mix of rage and helplessness churning within him.

Then as his gaze fell upon a familiar object he fell to his knees. It was Rhaegar's favourite stuffed dragon, the soft fabric now sticky with blood.

The sight of it broke something inside him. He picked up the teddy, cradling it to his chest, and let out a heart-wrenching sob.

"Rhaegar-Aerys-Jacaera" he whispered, his voice cracking with despair. The room around him seemed to blur as tears filled his eye. He clutched the bloodstained teddy tighter, the reality of the situation crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

Memories of his sons' laughter, their small hands reaching out for him, and Jacaera's smile flooded his mind. The thought of them suffering, of them being taken from him, was unbearable. His sobs turned into a guttural cry of rage and grief, echoing through the ruined chamber.

If his beloved Jacaera and his sweet sons were dead, then he would rip the world apart. He envisioned himself taking to the sky on Vhagar, raining fire and destruction upon the realm, leaving nothing but ash in his wake. No one would be spared his fury-no one.

Aemond was still on his knees, cradling the bloodstained teddy, when he heard the distinctive sound shuffling. He turned sharply, his eye narrowing as he saw Larys Strong standing in the doorway.

"They are safe, my King," Larys said, his voice calm and assured.

Aemond's reaction was immediate. He surged to his feet and seized Larys by the robes, his face a mask of fury and desperation. "Where are they?" he demanded, his voice a dangerous growl.

Larys met his gaze steadily. "They are with your mother”

Without another word, Aemond released Larys and raced from the room, his heart pounding in his chest. He sprinted through the corridors, his mind solely focused on reaching his mother’s chambers. He all but crashed through the door, his eye wild with panic.

There, in the corner of the room, huddled together, were Jacaera, Rhaegar, and Aerys. The sight of them brought tears of relief to his eye. "Jacaera!" he cried, his voice breaking as he rushed across the room.

Jacaera looked up, her eyes filled with tears. "Aemond," she whispered.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close and breathing in her familiar scent. The warmth of her body against his brought a sense of peace he hadn't felt since he discovered the bloodied room. He clung to her, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

After a few minutes, he pulled back slightly and placed his hands on her face, tilting her head to look at her. He noticed a cut on her cheek and that she looked a little dishevelled, but otherwise, she was unharmed. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Jacaera nodded, her eyes searching his face. "I'm fine. The boys are fine too."

Aemond turned his gaze to Rhaegar and Aerys, who were clutching each other tightly. He knelt down and pulled them into his arms, holding them close. "Daddy's here," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Daddy's here."

The boys clung to him, their small bodies trembling. Aemond closed his eye, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave. They were safe. His family was safe.

Jacaera placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her, his eye filled with gratitude and love. "Thank the gods," he murmured, standing and pulling her into another embrace. "I thought I'd lost you."

She held him tightly, her voice steady despite the ordeal. "We're here, Aemond. We're safe."

Aemond nodded, his resolve strengthening. Whoever had orchestrated this would pay. But for now, all that mattered was that his family was safe in his arms.

His mother watched silently as she watched her son openly weep for Jacaera and their children, she had never seen this side of Aemond before and it stirred a number of unfamiliar feelings in her chest.

Aemond never displayed this kind of vulnerability to anyone, and it was a harsh reminder of his obvious feelings and closeness to Jacaera, and for the briefest of moments Alicent realised that pushing Aemond to marry Floris had been a mistake, that she should have been a mother first and supported her last surviving child in securing his heart’s desire, but instead she had allowed herself to be swayed by the whims of the council and now Aemond was trapped in a marriage he did not truly wish for just as she had been and her heart broke.

That night, Aemond did not sleep a wink. He brought Jacaera and the boys back to his personal chambers, ensuring they were safe and secure.

As they slept in his bed, Aemond sat beside them, watching over them with a vigilant gaze. The events of the day replayed in his mind, fuelling a mixture of relief and simmering rage.

A soft knock at the door had him instantly on alert. Rising to his feet, his hand curled around the hilt of his dagger, he moved quietly to the door. Opening it a crack, he saw Larys Strong standing there, his expression serious.

Casting a final look at the sleeping Jacaera and his sons, Aemond stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. "Well?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

Larys met his gaze steadily. "Your Grace, it would seem that Jacaera is no weakling woman. She defended her children with a mother's fury-”

In that moment Aemond thanked the gods that the time he had spent secretly training Jacaera with the sword had paid off, granted she wasn’t as proficient as he was but clearly it had been enough to save herself and their sons.

“-She managed to inflict grievous injuries on two of the intruders before they inevitably succumbed to the stranger in the secret passageways, and she managed to injure the third. The Kings guard have searched the streets of King's Landing and found the intruder. He's in the black cells, awaiting your judgement."

Aemond's eye narrowed, his grip tightening on the dagger. The thought of Jacaera and his sons in danger ignited a burning anger within him. He nodded; his jaw set with determination. "Thank you-" he said, his voice cold. "I will personally deal with the man who tried to take my love from me.”

Larys inclined his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "As you wish, Your Grace."

Aemond turned back to his chambers, his resolve firm. He would ensure that those who threatened his family would face the full force of his wrath.

Tonight, as his beloved Jacaera and their sons slept peacefully, he would make sure their safety was secured. And come morning, justice would be served.

Returning to his post by the bed, Aemond watched over his family with renewed determination. The night was long, but he remained vigilant, his mind focused on the punishment he would mete out to those who dared to harm what was his.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Aemond's resolve only grew stronger. He would protect his family at any cost, and woe to those who stood in his way.

Aemond left Jacaera and the boys under heavy guard in his chambers, ensuring their safety before making his way down to the black cells. The air grew colder and damper as he descended, the stone walls closing in around him. Torches flickered, casting ominous shadows as he walked, his footsteps echoing through the narrow passageways.

He reached the cell where the man was held and pushed open the heavy iron door. Inside, a man was bound in chains, kneeling on the cold floor. The moment he saw Aemond, the man began to shake and beg for mercy.

"Please, Your Grace," the man whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "I have a family."

Aemond stepped closer, his eyes blazing with fury. He leaned down, getting in the man's face. "Yet you almost took mine from me," he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

The man continued to beg, his pleas growing more desperate. Aemond's patience wore thin, and he grabbed the man's collar, lifting him slightly off the ground. "Mercy will only be granted if you reveal who was behind the assassination attempt," Aemond demanded, his grip tightening.

The man gasped for air, his eyes wide with terror. "I never saw their face," he choked out. "They gave me a pouch of coins and told me how to enter the Red Keep, where to find the King's mistress and bastard children."

Aemond's rage intensified. He wrapped his hands around the man's throat, squeezing tightly. "Tell me" he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper.

The man struggled, his face turning red as he fought to breathe. With his last ounce of strength, he managed to mutter, "Ours is the Fury."

Aemond's eye widened with recognition. He released his grip, and the man slumped to the ground, unconscious. Aemond's mind raced, the words echoing in his head.

He knew that motto well.

Aemond barged into Floris' chambers, his fury barely contained. The maids, startled by his sudden entrance, were rudely dismissed with a sharp wave of his hand. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the room.

Floris stood, her eyes wide with surprise and fear. Before she could speak, Aemond advanced on her, his expression dark with anger. "I know it was you," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You arranged the assassination attempt on Jacaera and my sons."

Floris' eyes widened further, and she shook her head, her voice trembling. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't fucking lie to me!" Aemond roared, his voice echoing off the walls."

Floris' facade crumbled, and she took a step back, her hands trembling. "I may have... expressed a desire to get rid of Jacaera and the boys," she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. "But I never intended for it to be acted upon. It was Larys Strong. He's the one who took it upon himself-"

Aemond scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "The men spoke your family's motto. Why would Larys arrange for the murder of Jacaera and my sons, only to implicate you? It makes no sense."

Floris began to cry, the tears streaming down her face. "I don't know, Aemond, I swear. I never wanted this. I just-I wanted you to love me, to be a proper husband."

Aemond was unmoved by her tears, his face a mask of cold fury. "You could have cost me everything," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Jacaera, my sons, my future. How dare you?"

Floris sobbed, her shoulders shaking, but Aemond's rage did not abate.

Aemond’s face was a mask of cold resolve as he looked at Floris. “Our marriage is over, I'm done with this farce-” he declared, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. “I will petition the High Septon for an annulment based on your failure to produce an heir. You are to return to Storm’s End immediately. I never want to see or hear from you again.”

Floris’ tears dried up in an instant, replaced by a fury that matched Aemond’s own. “YOU DARE?” she raged, her voice trembling with indignation. “-You continuously brought shame and embarrassment upon me by flaunting your mistress and her bastards! I grew desperate and heartbroken-even when we did lay together no child ever came, I saw the way the men on the council would look at me, like it was my fault my womb remained empty, whilst their precious King was readily siring his bastards upon his whore”.

Aemond’s eye narrowed, his expression turning even colder. “There was never going to be a child. When we did lay together-I made sure you drank a potion to ensure my seed would never take root,” he revealed, his tone merciless. “I never wanted to have children with you. It’s Jacaera, it always has been, and it always will be”.

Floris’ eyes widened with shock and hurt. “You-you’ve been poisoning me?” she stammered, the realization hitting her like a physical blow.

Aemond didn’t flinch. “I took precautions. There is no room in my life for children I do not want, and I certainly did not want them with you.”

Floris’ rage bubbled over, and she challenged him, her voice rising. “What about Alys and the silver-haired boy at Harrenhal?”

Aemond sneered. “If you truly believe such baseless rumours, then you’re stupider than you look. The boy was sired by my uncle Daemon, not me.”

Floris tried to reason with him, her voice softer now, almost pleading. “Aemond, please. Try to understand how I’ve felt, I am your wife, yet you continue to wrong me-”

“You? It’s all about you, isn’t it? what about Jacaera? She was my woman long before you and I exchanged vows-”

 “Please husband-We can find a way to make this work. You can keep seeing Jacaera, all I ask for in return is that you grant me one child-”

“Have you got cloth ears? I said I don’t want any children with you” snarled Aemond.

“Y-Your Grace-please”

“No,” Aemond cut her off, his tone final. “You are to leave the Red Keep immediately, or I will have you executed. Your presence here is no longer tolerated.”

Floris’ face twisted with a mix of despair and fury. “You will regret this, Aemond Targaryen,” she spat, her voice filled with venom.

Aemond’s expression remained unchanged, his resolve unshaken. “I doubt that very much. Guards!” he called, his voice echoing through the halls. The door opened, and two guards entered, their expressions stoic.

“Ensure that the lady gathers her things and is ready to leave for Storm’s End within the hour. If she resists, use force.” ordered Aemond, his voice icy.

The guards nodded, moving to flank Floris. She cast one last, venomous glance at Aemond before allowing herself to be led away.

Aemond descended once more into the black cells, his mind a storm of emotions. He found Larys Strong standing beside the still-unconscious intruder, observing him with an air of detached curiosity.

"Lord Strong," Aemond called, his voice echoing through the cold stone chamber.

Larys turned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Aemond's demeanour. "Your Grace," he greeted with a slight bow. "I trust you have news?"

Aemond nodded curtly. "Floris admitted her guilt. She has been banished from the Red Keep and is to return to Storm's End. Our marriage will be annulled."

Larys raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "I must say, I am shocked that Lady Floris was capable of such a thing. To arrange for babes to be murdered in their beds is a terrible act, indeed. No doubt the actions of a woman who had grown desperate”.

Aemond’s expression hardened. "Mayhaps, but it was unforgivable nonetheless."

“Did the Lady happen to mention how she came into contact with the men she hired?” asked Larys, his voice soft and low.

Before he could respond Aemond’s attention was drawn to the sound of Larys tapping his cane against the floor and suddenly Alys’ words echoed around his mind ‘beware of those who walk in the shadows of truth and lies-false tongues and spilled blood- the sound of wood against the stone’

Aemond then noticed the pin on Larys’ robes, hidden slightly in the folds of fabric, the slight gold hue glinting in the torchlight.

A firefly-Aemond remembered that Helaena once had a number of them as part of her bug collection.

He remembered how their mother had reacted when Helaena had declared that the fireflies were bored of their captivity and had promptly released them in the Red Keep.

The sound of his sweet sisters laughter as they flew free around the room, and their mother’s shrieking when she found one in her hair.

Firefly, Firefly, Firefly. The word kept playing on his mind.

Floris had named Larys as her co-conspirator, and whilst he had initially dismissed the notion as ridiculous, he couldn’t shake the feeling on uncertainty that was now swirling within him.

Alys had never steered him wrong before with any of her warnings and he had learned very quickly during the war to never ignore what she told him, even if it seemed like nonsensical ramblings.

“Interesting pin-” muttered Aemond, his hand curling around the pommel of his sword.

“A firefly-” said Larys firmly.

“I know-”

Without warning, Aemond unsheathed his sword in a swift, fluid motion. Larys had only a moment to register what was happening before the blade struck.

Aemond’s sword cut cleanly through Larys' neck, and his head fell to the ground with a dull thud, eyes still wide with shock.

Aemond stood over the beheaded corpse, his chest heaving with exertion and emotion. He felt a grim satisfaction in exacting his vengeance. Larys had played a dangerous game, manipulating events and people for his own ends. Now, he had paid the ultimate price.

Aemond wiped his sword clean on Larys' robes and sheathed it. He looked at the unconscious intruder, his lip curling in disdain. He would deal with him later. For now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Aemond stood before his council, his eyes scanning the room with a steely determination. The members of his Small Council sat around the table, their expressions a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Alicent sat near the head of the table, her gaze fixed on her son with a mix of disbelief and concern.

"I have gathered you all here today to make an important announcement," Aemond began, his voice steady and commanding. "My marriage to Floris Baratheon will be annulled due to her inability to provide me with an heir and for her involvement in the assassination attempt on Jacaera and my sons, she has been banished back to Storm's End-and before anyone dares to mention it, I give no shit for Borros Baratheon, and if he wishes to express his disdain then he will do so before Vhagar-"

A ripple of shock ran through the council members, but no one dared to speak. Aemond continued, his tone growing colder. "Larys Strong, who was also involved, has been executed for his treachery."

Alicent’s eyes widened, and she shook her head slightly, but she remained silent, her face a mask of conflicting emotions.

Aemond took a deep breath, his resolve unwavering. "As soon as the High Septon grants the annulment, I will wed Jacaera. Our children will be legitimized as Targaryen’s, and my oldest son, Rhaegar, will be named heir to the Iron Throne".

The council members lowered their gazes, clearly uncomfortable but unwilling to challenge their clearly angry yet determined King. The weight of Aemond's decisions hung heavily in the room, an unspoken tension settling over the assembly.

Aemond looked at each of them in turn, his gaze unyielding. "My decision is not up for debate, I let you fools force me into a marriage with Floris and it was a mistake from the very beginning. Jacaera and our sons are my family, and I will protect them at all costs. Anyone who dares to threaten them will face the same fate as Larys Strong."

Alicent finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aemond-are you certain this is the right path?"

Aemond met his mother's gaze, his expression softening slightly. "Mother, I understand your concerns, but my mind is made up. Jacaera and our children are my future."

Alicent sighed, her shoulders sagging in resignation. "Very well. I will not stand against you."

Aemond nodded, grateful for her reluctant support. He turned back to the council. "Prepare the necessary documents for the annulment and send word to the High Septon. This matter must be resolved swiftly-I do not wish to be married to that Baratheon bitch for any longer than what is necessary”.

The council members murmured their assent, hastily making notes and exchanging wary glances. Aemond knew that his decisions would be met with resistance, but he was prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

His love for Jacaera and his commitment to their children gave him the strength to defy tradition and forge his own path as King.

As the council meeting adjourned, Aemond took a moment to approach his mother. "Thank you for not opposing me," he said quietly.

Alicent looked at him with a mixture of sadness and pride. "I express my regret in not advocating for you to wed Jacaera in the first place-mayhaps all this could have been avoided and you would have been glad for it-now my only hope that you find the happiness you seek, my son."

Aemond nodded, a rare smile touching his lips. "I will, Mother. I promise."

Jacaera sat gracefully by Aemond's side during the celebratory feast, her eyes sparkling with contentment. The grandeur of the Red Keep's throne room was a far cry from the gloom that had been present as she was first brought here as a captive.

Initially she had been defiant and intent on fighting against her captors at every given opportunity, but then she saw how Aemond had looked at her and how fierce he had been when he demanded that she be given to him.

Soon after an idea began to form in her mind, to make Aemond fall in love with her, initially she did think it would be quite difficult given his previous stance on duty and his loyalty to his family but his obsession with her proved to be his undoing.

The man was so completely starved of affection that all Jacaera had to do was love him, care for him and give herself to him in every way possible.

Aemond was as eager as a neglected puppy and the more she gave, he was only to happy to take.

In truth there were times where she felt sorry for him, deep down it wasn’t really his fault, he had obviously never received the love and nurture of a good mother and that neglect had caused him issues, it didn’t totally absolve him of his sins but it allowed for an understanding of why he was the way he was.

Sure, there were times when they argued, but eventually they would make up and Aemond would spend as much time as he could between her thighs. Despite his initial shyness, his appetite for sex was ravenous, and Jacaera was more than happy to indulge him.

The continuous loss of her family had been a deep wound, yet it also steeled her resolve to ensure her mother's legacy endured. As the greens self-destructed in their political machinations, Jacaera skilfully positioned herself at Aemond's side.

When he returned victorious from the battle above the gods eye and was crowned King, his council were quick to try and influence him and his reign. Pressing him to follow through on his promise to marry Floris Baratheon.

The night before his wedding, Aemond spent hours fucking her, he was like a man possessed, the way he devoured her cunt, making her peak on his tongue then sheathing his cock inside her and making her scream his name.

She knew he loved to hear her, that what he was doing to her felt good. He liked to hear his name upon her lips, hear her praise him and beg him for more.

She did think that it wouldn’t bother her if he laid with Floris, that she didn’t care about him in that way but knowing that he had consummated the marriage had hurt in a way that she didn’t expect.

He came to her after he’d been with Floris and the look of hurt that flashed across his face when he reached out for her, but she slapped his hands way was something she would always remember.

In truth it was the first time she realised that withholding what he wanted would also grant her things that she wanted, he was so addicted to what she did for him that he would do anything to please her.

But it also served to make her aware that despite trying to avoid it, she had developed feelings for him, she had grown to care for his well being and she found herself descending into epic fits of rage when learning he had been with Floris, granted it was rare, barely once in as many moons but it still happened, and she hated it.

If she belonged to him, then he belonged to her.

Aemond would watch as she threw things around her chambers, it was almost as if he enjoyed her jealousy, her anger raising to momentous proportions as she let him fuck her hard against the wall, the rough stones digging into her back as he thrust into her, sometimes she would bite him until he bled, the first time had been an accident but there were times where he demanded that she do it, and she was more than happy to oblige, to inflict pain where she could.

One day she expressed her desire to be a mother, and to her surprise Aemond stopped requesting moontea after their couplings and soon she bore him two sons who quickly became the centre of his world.

As time progressed Floris was nothing more than a thorn in her side, but Jacaera moved subtly, knowing of Aemond's distaste for the marriage he had been forced into.

Obviously, Alys and her expertise came in handy as Jacaera couldn’t have Floris birthing any of Aemond’s children, granted she didn’t know Alys personally, but Aemond would often talk about his time at Harrenhal and the witch who helped him, so Jacaera had subtly suggested asking for her help.

Alys was more than happy to help in exchange for the right to call Harrenhal her own, why anyone would want to live in that ruined husk of a castle Jacaera would never know but Alys was content with what she had been given and provided her expertise.

The assassination attempt had been drastic, but effective, the intruders were lumbering fools who drank more than they trained and two of them were easily dealt with, the training sessions she endured coming in handy, and the third ended up getting captured.

Larys Strong's involvement had been pivotal, for all he was clever, he was also a greedy man and all it took was the promise of convincing Aemond to give him a seat on the council, though he had to be dealt with once his usefulness ended, but given Aemonds fury over what had happened and Floris naming him, it was all but inevitable that Larys would find himself a head shorter.

Floris had been banished from Kings Landing and her marriage to Aemond had been annulled.

Now Jacaera was married, and she was the Queen, she had briefly entertained the idea of getting rid of Aemond as well, but she dismissed the idea as quickly as it came.

Despite what he had done, he did have some redeeming qualities about him. But more importantly, she had come to accept that she did love him.

As she gazed at Aemond and their sons, Jacaera's heart swelled with a mix of satisfaction and ambition. She leaned over and kissed Aemond's scarred cheek, she then took his hand and placed it on the huge swell of her stomach, any day now they would be blessed with their next child, and she hoped that it would be a girl, perhaps she could even convince Aemond to let her name the babe Rhaenyra.

Her thoughts drifting to her mother, she hoped that she would be proud of all that she had endured in order too see that her mother’s blood would continue on the Iron Throne.

Hidden and patient, she would remain, to see the true line of succession resorted at least in some form the day that Rhaegar would be crowned King.

The End.

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[anonymouslosersworld]

♡ Succubus♡ 

Prompt; Mc/reader armed with the teaching Solomon decided to mess around with magical creations and like Icarus flew too close to the sun before falling... in their case fell victim to horniness.

Fandom: Obey me shall me date

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos.

Genre: Smut (M)

Contains: dubcon, unprotected sex, dom reader, sex toys, voyeurism??, and corruption kink.

Credit goes to @asmology . They have wonderful blog and written pieces. I was so in love with their charmed series and just wanted to try my hand at writing it myself. Please don't hesitate and check out their blogs.

[Obey me masterlist]

Prologue; After you had successfully enrolled in the sorcerers' academy and become Solomon's one and only apprentice after a couple of months. He had encouraged you to explore magical items and such. Due to many lonely and hot nights, you settled on magical items. Using your knowledge you created a life-like magical dildo/vibrator of your love interest. Unknowingly to you {or maybe knowingly you did but wouldn't admit it}it was also charmed with your love interest feeling whatever you did to it.

Mammon

He couldn't go out there. Not with whatever the hell was fucking him so well. He had the strongest grip on his couch causing him to ruffle the fabric of his couch. He panted as the feeling intensified with time.

"f-fuck~!"

His well-planned scheme was put on hold as he was getting dicked down on his very own couch. His cum dripped from his balls staining his expensive couch.

"mmph~" His cock pulsed his orgasm nearby.

His body felt hot with sweat accuminating. He was hitting the deepest parts he could, thrusting into the feeling that was fucking him. His shirt was ripped off of him as it kept getting hotter and hotter with each orgasm he gave you.

"fuck me~!"

He could feel his tip hitting a spot that made the walls trapping him pulse around him squirm as he continued his attack on them. He was hungry for another orgasm that you took from him.

The last one was more intense than the rest keeping his thighs trembling. With him more sensitive and panting for more. He knows that whatever was screwing with him woukdnt let up until they were done. Without his cum filling you up.

Leviathan

"w-what kind of n-no-oh normie crap is thisss~"

Levi struggles to say as his face is red with embarrassment. His fist slammed into his desk as the sudden inwrapped feeling on his cocks stimulated him.

He couldn't concentrate on his game or continue to play indifferently when he was getting fucked so thoroughly.

"g-gah~!"

What was worse was it happened in front of his very own live stream. He had yet to get off his stream refusing to neglect the newly released game.

Levi's body wiggles as a way to distract himself but instead made it worse for himself as he accidentally jutted his hips towards the lustful fucking.

"normie trap.f-fuck~!" Levi's forehead hit his desk as he finally couldn't keep it in any longer.

His tight grip destroyed his mouse leaving nothing but shards of plastic with his grasp.

Barbatos

Water trickled down Barbatos leg to his thigh as he raised his leg from the edge of the tub. The warm water undoing some of the knots that had been forming on his back. Little droplet of water formed at barbatos neck before cascading down to his chest into the water at his waist.

He sighed as he took a sip from the costly wine and enjoyed the bath salts he had recently acquired from a merchant. While he was grateful he had a day off and deemed it a good day to just do some well-earned pampering he was bored out of his mind. There was nothing to do.

No one to do.

His mind took him to you

"aah~!"

The glass of wine he had been holding had been crushed from his grip.

Something had wrapped itself around his cock completely engulfing his cock. It was warm and inviting. Whatever decided to land itself onto his cock seemed to clench and spasm around his length.

"ooh~"

Before barbatos could even think of dispelling whatever was happening to him, it had started to move. He bit his lip as the walls around him clenched him in and grinded into his cock. The pace was a bit slow but deep and barbatos couldn't help but enjoy whoever was dumb enough to fuck him.

His grip on the bathtub's edge tighten as the pace began to quicken. His cock was being used like a cheap sex toy, his pleasure was only second to whoever was fucking him. His back arched as his cock was overwhelmed by the sudden spasming of the walls trapping him.

"-ark~! m-more!~" barbatos moaned weakly as his head leaned on the tub. His fingers early working on his nipples wanting to cum and unstress himself already.

Barbatos whimpered as you worked through his orgasm. What a greedy thing you were.

Solomon

You wanted to mess with Solomon just as he messes with you. So you had enchanted a lollipop as well as a sex toy. You could already see that the toy you had shoved into your hole was affecting Solomon's performance.

To the normal eye, you couldn't see anything but to your Solomon-trained eye, you saw that he was getting fidgety. He was hyper-focused on the feeling of his cock. You smirk as you decide to teasingly clench around the toy.

Solomon bit his lip, his fist clenched as he tried to go on with his lesson before you put your plan into action. You unwrap your special lollipop with a smile as you watch Solomon struggle.

You lightly breathe on the lollipop causing shivers down Solomon's spine. Solomon lets out a whimper as you roll the lollipop in your mouth.

"Y-you don't play fair," Solomon grunts as he slides down almost giving into you.

"Whatever do you mean my wise Solomon?" You say as you straddle him on the floor he sat down on. You scrap the lollipop with your teeth. Your smirk was hard to miss clearly you were enjoying this.

"Nngh fuuck~"

" Do you like it, my dear Solomon? How do you feel? hm?~"

"F-feels- fuck! Intense."

"I'm going to make you my bitch Solomon. It's what I deserve."

Simeon

Simeon was taking a stroll with Raphael in the garden in the celestial realm finally coming from the exchange program. He was chatting with Raphael about his and luke's experiences with Devildom before he felt just a whisper of something in his pants.

what was that?

His eyes widen as he felt a firm grip on his non-hard cock. Simeon's legs instinctually closed but it didn't stop the grip on his cock. His cheeks felt warm as the hand on his cock felt him up.

He quickly dismissed himself to the closest secluded room near him. Whatever was in his pants was just solely focused on his cock and seemed genuinely happy in fisting his cock with their hand.

Simeon sat on the toilet as the feeling faded.

Maybe he imagined it? Maybe all he needed was to air himself out?

Simeon unbuckled his pants and pulled them off mid-thigh. The air made his cock feel a little sensitive to the cold temperature.

"A-ah~!!!" In the freedom of the restroom, Simeon finally let out the moans trapped in his throat while you took his cock within your mouth shoving him the deepest you could before going back to slurping his tip.

The slimy tongue had encircled the tip of his cock making him feel the entire length of it . Simeon panted as he was tormented by whatever clung to him in devildom.

"p-please mercy~! I c-can't take it." Simeon begged the tight coil in his stomach tighten and he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what or who he was begging to but his beg was answered.

"g-god~! So-oh~ good!"

His cock pulsed as his cum splattered around him and onto his clothes. His thighs trembled from the intensity of his first orgasm.

Requests are open! Feel free to request!

My works are only posted here! If you see any of my work anywhere else please report it.

Do not edit, translate or repost my work without my consent.

[diana-bluewolf]

It’s this blog's first birthday! 🥳 Wanted to gather some of my fav drawings and thoughts about being in the fandom.

Being in a fandom is not always easy, but it is definitely worth it. 

1. It’s a perfect soft-skill trainer. It teaches me to focus on what I can control (like my reactions) rather than what I can’t (other people’s opinions). To be myself and not be ashamed of my interests. To stop overthinking and just enjoy the process. To accept imperfection as an inevitable part of any art…and myself. To stop comprehending the terms ‘self-indulgent’ and ‘cringe’ as synonyms. To prioritise my own well-being to avoid burn-out. And most importantly, not to cringe at my art I posted a day ago 🤣

2. It's a powerful therapy tool. I mean, have you tried to write an OC? Poor things, I don't envy them, but it turned out to be a perfect instrument to understand my own head's wiring better. It's like my subconscious is speaking to me through my OC's actions. I started this blog at one of the most challenging times in my life (let's just say that characters with external and internal scars appeal to me on a personal level. Not to be dramatic. Ok, I am, sorry, it's my only flaw), and it affected Chris severely, to the extent that I couldn't even imagine it would. But all the insights I got about myself via him are priceless. 

3. It’s the best source of inspiration. I had been in the art block for years, but seeing your guys cool art reignited my desire to draw. It was difficult (to say the least) to start posting amateur art about my MC on the blog that was followed for the screenshots of the popular characters, but I’m glad I did because, in another case, I would have never met some of my friends here. My art style is inconsistent as I keep experimenting, so some of my drawings are way better than others, but I’m still growing and proud of it. 

4. And most importantly, it's brought me together with some of the coolest people in my life. I'm so grateful to everyone who follows/followed me. Thank you so much for your support now or in the past, even if you just lurk. If you regularly appear on my notifs, I do recognise you and am very grateful. Even if I don't always respond - sorry, it's just because my social battery is often very low. I'm the most introverted introvert irl, even though I don't seem like one here. I'm training to overcome my social anxiety here, can you tell? 🤣 

Here I wanted to write something about my moots, but…Well, I have no idea how to continue whatever I had intended to write because just a thought of you all got me terribly overwhelmed with warm fuzzy feelings 😑 I blame you, guys 😤 So I will just write that I love you, but know this is an understatement.

Love this fandom, its creativity and all the incredibly talented and supportive people here. You guys are the best 🤗

[alisonwritesimagines]

I'm Wonderstruck, Blushing All the Way Home ~LA!Shanks x Reader~

Summary: You and Shanks grow close when you're not watching Luffy.

Author’s Note: My coworker is almost caught up with the anime One Piece which I think is crazy and impressive.

Part of the Enchanted Series

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: candy store -tooth rotting fluff

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You sat on Shanks's desk as he sat on his chair in front of you. After exploring his ship, the two of you made it over to his quarters where you two got to know each other more.

"So how did you get that scar?" You asked him as you lightly touched the scars that ran below his eye.

"One of Whitebeard's crewmate's did this to me," Shanks told you.

"Makes you look tough," you tell him.

"You think so? Not handsome?"

"Well that too," you say.

“Do you have any scars?” Shanks asked you.

“Just small ones from my clumsiness. Nothing interesting like yours,” you tell him.

“So what do you think of my ship?” Shanks asked as he leaned back against his chair.

“I like it.”

“Maybe when Luffy’s old enough, you can join me in sailing around the world? Look for the one piece?” Shanks asked you.

“I don’t like the sea,” you tell him as you shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid of what lies beneath the waters. It’s just a little too scary for me,” you tell him.

“And what if I tell you that a pirate like myself will never let you get hurt?”

“You can make the promise but can you keep it?” You asked.

“I’m a man of my word,” Shanks smiled at you.

“I’ll think about it.”

You looked out the window to see that it was already dark.

"I should probably get back home," you tell him as you got off his desk.

"You could stay the night if you like," Shanks offered.

"I think you're moving a little too soon," you tease.

"You can take my bed and if it makes you feel better, I can sleep somewhere else," Shanks insisted.

"Slept in worse places?" You asked him.

"You have no idea."

"Well, a strong and brave pirate like you can walk me home right?" You asked him.

"I certainly can," Shanks said.

The moment you stepped out of his room, the cold air hit you unexpectedly. You shivered a little but felt warmth again when Shanks put his cape around you. You smiled up at him as you both began to walk back to your home.

"You're not what I expected," you tell him.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes. The pirates I've met have been horrible," you explain.

"I'm glad I'm able to prove to you that not all pirates are bad."

"Me too. Will you be coming back to our village after your next journey?" You asked him.

"For you? Yes. I don't want anyone else taking a treasure like yourself away from me," Shanks says. You felt your face heat up from his words. You hid your face with his cape so he wouldn't see your wide smile.

"Well, this is me. Will I see you tomorrow?" You asked Shanks as you approached your home.

"Can't go without a goodbye," Shanks tells you. You began to take off his cape but Shanks stopped you.

"Keep it for tonight. Give us another reason to see each other tomorrow," Shanks tells you.

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight Shanks," you say before kissing his cheek. You quickly opened your door before hiding inside.

You could hide your smile from behind the door as you could feel yourself fall for Shanks a little more.

Today was your last day off before you had to watch Luffy again. You headed to Shanks's ship where you found his crew getting ready to set sail again.

"Shanks is in his quarters if you're looking for him," one of his crew members tells you with a wink.

"Thank you," you smile before heading over.

You knocked on Shanks's door before opening it.

"Hi," you say once you saw him.

"Hi," Shanks smiled as he walked over to you.

"Came to bring your cape back and brought you some food for the trip," you tell him as you placed a box of food on his desk. You took off his cape and handed it back to him.

"Thank you. We appreciate it," Shanks tells you.

"I guess I'll see you when you come back?" You asked him.

"We'll be back soon."

"Be safe," you tell him.

"You know, you should keep the cape warm for me," Shanks tells you as he put the cape back onto you.

"You're gonna come back for it right?" You asked.

"That. And you," Shanks said.

"I shouldn't keep you waiting. I need to go get some stuff ready before Luffy comes back tomorrow," you tell him before beginning to leave.

"Wait."

You felt Shanks grab your hand before pulling you back over to him. He cupped your cheeks before kissing you on the lips. You kissed him back until you had to pull away for air.

"I'll be waiting for you," you tell him.

"And I'll come back for you," Shanks tells you. You smile up at him before giving him one more kiss.

"Come back to me soon."

"And when I do, why don't we go on a proper date?" Shanks asked.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him. Shanks gave you one more kiss before walking you out.

"Tell Luffy I'll see him when I come back. I know he'll love to hear my stories when I come back," Shanks tells you.

"I will. Stay safe," you tell him.

"For you," Shanks said before kissing you once more.

[oc-doodles-daily]

WELCOME TO OC DOODLES DAILY BLOG!!

Send your ocs in ask box and I’ll make a doodle of them! All ocs of all kinds of species are welcome!

Rules:

1: Please don’t send anything inappropriate as a reference!

2: characters from fandoms are welcome, but if you want the fandom to be tagged make sure to mention it’s name in the request!

3. I’ll try to draw doodles daily, if I fail to do so, I’ll draw the skipped drawing when available!

4. I ONLY make doodles here to keep myself from being overworked. but if you’d like to Commission me, go on my @drewmwalker blog and see the commission sheet in attachments!

5. It’s ONE DOODLE A DAY. If you submitted your oc but it takes a while for me to draw them, they might be at the end of the queue, for which I apologise!

6. If you already sent an oc, please wait until they are drawn and posted before sending another one!

I’d be really grateful if you reblogged when your oc gets drawn , it will help the blog grow<3

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You do NOT have to be a member of the patreon to request your oc in the ask box, this is a free project and the patreon is solely made to support me if you want to!

I might also include some YCHs in this blog, so if you’re interested in those I hope I earned your follow!

Now stop reading that darn thing and go put your googer in the doodle box, I can’t wait to see all the ocs you guys made<3