#I have some. Very peculiar fetishes

[ghoulfriendfangs]

KINKTOBER ‘22 - Plaything

Day 4: Micro with Lucio

I’ve been envisioning these prompts more as pitches than full fics, so if one gets lots of love I’ll expand upon it in great detail!

{WC: ~250} {top!dom!reader x bottom!sub!Lucio, micro, manhandling, teasing}

  Lucio had been getting on your nerves like there was no tomorrow. He had pouted and thrown a fit whenever you weren’t lavishing him attention, and then he was yowling like a cat in heat when you were. He was really getting out of hand.

  But luckily, it only took a certain magic potion to get him back in hand.

  Lucio shifted around, sitting comfortably on your palm. “I… I can’t believe how well this spell worked.”

  “Impressed?” You ask, and he shivers as your breath warms him like a summer breeze. 

  “I mean, it’s nothing I couldn’t do. I just don’t have a cauldron, but if I tried I’m sure I’d-”

  You cut him off with a good squeeze, his breath hitches and you can feel his tiny, fragile chest fluttering. You let go… and see a minuscule bulge in his pants.

  “Excuse me,” Lucio huffs, “just because I’m small, doesn’t mean I’m not still the count! You will respect me and my authority!”

  “What’s this?” You ask, rubbing over his bulge with your thumb pad. He groans, rutting into your thumb, so you pull back a bit.

  “What does it look like!? It’s a hard on, now help me with it- EEEK!”

  You turn him over, dangling him by his foot. He wiggles around, managing to mess up his coat revealing his tummy, and drop his tiny cape to the floor below.

  “I think you forget, I cast this spell on you because you wanted to play with me. Well, now you’ll be my plaything, and I’m going to have tremendous fun with you.”

  He gulped, a tinge of red dusting his nose.

  …he could get behind that. 

[kitorin]

in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.

itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.

"were you busy? i can ask later."

"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"

you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.

"what's your favourite thing about me?"

owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.

"i have to pick?"

you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."

rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."

"is what?"

"i love watching you sleep."

it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.

of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.

"rin that's so creepy—"

his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"

oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?

"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"

"but why's that?"

lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."

guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"

"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."

and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.

but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.

you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."

he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.

"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."

"wow. okay. i see—"

"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."

"very sweet of you, that's enough though."

"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"

"rin—"

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[13knowge]

Hi. For a long time i thought this was pretty weird (?) but after doing more research i found out that many people shared it and it made me pretty happy, i found a part on the internet pretty funny and i want to have fun too.

I'm not very good at English but i tried my best getting a little help.

So, these are my favorite OP characters and some headcanons i have of them of how they are when they are in love or in a relationship.

CW: SFW / KINK

Kaido

Kaido in love can get pretty scary, he knows he's scary and uses it to make fun of you. He also invades your personal space.

When he is drunk he seeks physical contact, sometimes he doesn't measure his strength and you get to feel a bit of discomfort to his grip.

He doesn't care if his subordinates are present or not when he shows his affection towards you, he likes to show you off.

His way of flirting is to take you on his ship to accompany him to eliminate his enemies, he wants to show you how strong he is and the respect his crew has for him.

In intimacy he likes to use intimidation and point out how small you are and that he could tear you apart if he wanted to.

Rob Lucci

He definitely chases you everywhere, no matter where you go, he will follow your footsteps wherever you decide to go. You will never be out of his vision. It's not that he distrusts you, he trusts you wholeheartedly, it's just that his favorite activity is to always be with you even though he recognizes that you need your "space".

He spies and reports on every person who approaches you to know if they are to be trusted. Regardless of your opinion, that is up to him to decide.

It will be better for everyone's sake that no one dares to even draw a tear from you or else he will commit the most violent and bloody murder. Eventually you will realize that this person has disappeared.

He doesn't show you affection in front of others, for him that's too private, but he also doesn't bother if it's you who shows some kind of affection, in that case, he doesn't ignore you.

When it's just the two of you alone, he never lets go, he's a cat that climbs on top of you to lick your neck.

During sex he has absolute control over your body, he knows perfectly where to touch you and how to make you go crazy. He uses his hybrid form to leave marks like scratches and some bites.

On special occasions he likes to be treated as a pet and to wear a collar to dominate him and follow your orders.

Shanks

He is very attentive and dedicated, he treats you with great delicacy and gentleness. Very gentlemanly.

He will always give you the best of the best, you will never be disappointed. He looks for the best treasures to be your property.

He will make you laugh many times, he is a very funny man, especially when he is drunk.

All the time he is talking about you. Even when he fights with his enemies, before finishing them he presumes that he has to leave quickly because he has to kiss someone.

He recognizes your strength and independence but is secretly terrified of something bad happening to you.

In a drunken state is when he is most sexually active and becomes a complete stranger, he is very wild. He has a fetish for smells and is very aroused by the contact when both are sweaty. In the midst of this activity he likes to talk dirty.

Sir Crocodile

It must be a miracle when he says something nice about you. He is not very affectionate, it is very difficult for him, sometimes it seems that he is not even interested in you.

He is a man of very few words, he has peculiar ways of letting you know he loves you and makes sure they are unique and special.

He does not like you to get involved in his work. He will keep the relationship very private and would expect you to do the same.

He is very jealous, as soon as someone wants to flirt with you, Crocodile squeezes your waist with his hook.

He doesn't like to murder people when you are present, he thinks it's something you shouldn't witness.

Although he thinks Buggy is an idiot, he is one of the few people next to Mihawk that he feels safe for you to be with.

When it comes to sex he is rough and gentle at the same time. He makes sure you feel comfortable. After that he feels more open to express his feelings and tell you how much he loves you.

I had a lot of fun writing this hahahahaha, hope you like it <3

[levyfiles]

There's something peculiar about the decision to blur their feet, which made me feel...

Ok, listen, I really really REALLY don't have a foot fetish but the fact that I'm not allowed to see them feels like how it feels when you go through TSA at the airport and you're sure somehow a gun manifested in your very normal luggage. Like did I accidentally make Shane Madej feel like I need to see his feet for some reason????

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hehehe, hello dear author. I have a somewhat peculiar request for Poseidon. Let's say that at a meeting or party some time after Ragnarok, Amaterasu arrives with a miko assisting her, which the goddess treats as her daughter and as soon as she sees Poseidon she does her best to prevent Poseidon from noticing the priestess. Since Amaterasu knows the story of Medusa and this special human is like a daughter to her. The miko is from a modern era, but she had a peculiar childhood. Since she and/or she was born, she was consecrated to the Grand Shrine of Amaterasu, being the only woman among her brothers. Her parents only visited her at the temple to demand perfection, asking the monks and superior priestesses to leave her in isolation if she did not meet their expectations to the letter, the monks could not oppose since her family was of high social hierarchy and very rich. Basically, she suffered mental and sometimes physical damage from the scars left from training her with weapons related to the sun goddess. And it was at dawn, while he was serving his punishment in isolation, that Amaterasu appeared to him, and lamented everything that his followers had done. From that day on, the goddess promised that she would always be with her, and basically Amaterasu was the one who he would gossip while they hung out in isolation. she y/n she died defending the temple from a too powerful yokai, and Amaterasu collected her soul and performed her funeral personally, as well as driving her y/n's family out of her lands. For this reason Amaterasu is so jealous of y/n, especially against Poseidon due to the tyrant of the seas' fetish for virgin priestesses. But surely Poseidon is worth half a peach and somehow he takes the miko to his domain to try to woo her, and y/n knowing that he will not beat Poseidon in a fight, he always evades him saying that he is not interested in being with a married man (Amphitrite) while trying to find a way to escape every day. And Amaterasu is about to start a war against Hades, since the latter stands in the way of the sun goddess breaking Poseidon's face.

-Your life was only better after you died.

-It was a sad truth, but a truth, nonetheless. You were the only daughter born to a high society family with four older brothers and one younger brother.

-To your parents, you were useless, as only boys mattered to them, sons to carry on their lineage.

-They got rid of you the first chance they had but did it in a way where nobody would accuse them of being bad parents, they gave you to the Ise Jingu, the holy Shinto shrine of Amaterasu, where the goddess is rumored to live, an honorable fate.

-Your life became nothing but chores and going to school, only being able to attend through middle school, the mandatory educational requirements in Japan.

-However, you worked hard, proving yourself to the High Priestess and the priests who oversaw the temple grounds, and you were conscripted to become a priestess yourself.

-Your family benefited from your promotion, using it as publicity for them and their sons that their only daughter was devoted to a life serving in a temple as a priestess.

-However, this came at a price, due your parents being so wealthy, giving massive donations and getting many other high society families to donate large amounts, their instructions were clear: you had to be perfect, no mistakes, and if any were made, you were to be locked away and punished.

-Unable to risk the donations, the High Priestess accepted the terms.

-You tried your best, being diligent with your work so you would make any mistakes, but their constantly watching eyes, even the smallest mistake had them throwing you into a small isolated room with no windows, sometimes after whipping the tops of your hands so you would learn.

-You struggled with their treatment, sometimes punishing you by not feeding you for days, isolating you, you were quickly beginning to look sick, but those in charge were too blinded by their greed.

-You could only stare in the darkness of the room, no windows to illuminate anything, the only source of light being the sun peeking through the small cracks.

-A hand on your head startled you, flinching in fear as you could barely move, turning your heard to see the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, glowing as if the was the sun herself.

-You eyes were wide and full of tears as she pulled you into her arms, weeping softly as she held you, “How could they hurt someone so young- so small.”

-You instantly knew this was Amaterasu herself, your own tears welling as you broke down, sobbing into her chest, but she didn’t berate you, she just let you cry, giving you the soft affection that you so desperately wanted.

-From that day on, Amaterasu was always with you, but nobody could see her but you, as she said they were not worthy to see her.

-She had healed your wounds, kept you warm at night, became a friend, a mentor, and a mother to you, doting on you so gently.

-When she had to leave you for a short while, you were terrified, clutching her kimono, which broke her heart, but she promised to return to you.

-Without her divine protection, which had shielded your mistakes from the eyes of those in charge of the temple, so you wouldn’t be punished, it was like a demon took over the temple, tainting all those who resided.

-When Amaterasu returned, she could only stare in horror, seeing you bloody and broken body, whipped viciously, your hands bound behind your back, seeing the priestess and priests were the ones harming you.

-In one act of Divine Punishment, Amaterasu struck the temple with a ball of fire, immediately igniting it.

-She watched them all flee, leaving you behind, her heart aching as you passed, but she immediately pulled your soul out of your body, cradling it close as you woke up, completely healed, floating above the burning temple.

-You were in disbelief that you had died, but at the same time, you never felt happier, as you could never be hurt by them again.

-The temple only had minor damage, the fire department working quickly, but Amaterasu made sure to reveal your body, which was only minorly burned, showing the abuse you had been put through.

-The public was in an uproar, furious that those in charge had treated the little miko so harshly, so cruelly, then it came into light of your family’s bribery to the temple, paying them to treat you like this, as nothing but perfection would be accepted.

-You were in awe, holding onto Amaterasu as you watched your family lose everything, being shamed and being forced to flee Japan to start anew.

-You harbored no feelings for your family, no remorse for them, as they were the ones that did this to you, they did this to themselves.

-In Valhalla you had so much freedom, getting to explore around the Shinto pantheon, meeting warriors from history, and with Amaterasu by your side, you go to meet other gods as well, many who were disgusted by the way you, a sixteen-year-old girl, had been treated by adults, least of all holy figures that watched over temples.

-Amaterasu doted on you like you were a daughter, not a miko, as you were considered a demi-god of sorts, as you were considered a holy maiden. You didn’t mind either way, you liked helping your new mother out, doing simple chores, delivering paperwork around the pantheon for her.

-You had never been happier than with this new role in the afterlife, in Valhalla.

-It was at a massive party where you got to meet so many other gods and notable humans, a celebration for the salvation of humanity, as the gods have decided to work with humanity to help them better themselves, what they should have done in the first place.

-You were wearing a traditional miko outfit, red hakama pants with a white shirt, and a large red bow tying your hair back in a low ponytail, remaining by your mother goddess.

-Many were surprised to meet a holy maiden that was so young, but most were nice to you, many of the humans enjoyed speaking with you, as you asked them questions about their past as you knew their history.

-Amaterasu grabbed your wrist, pulling you behind her as a man approached you both, you peeked out, hearing your mother call this man Poseidon, a glare on her face, as she knew the story of Medusa, of what he did to a priestess of Athena.

-He wasn’t going to be allowed near you.

-However, her intense protectiveness is what made Poseidon want to see you more, to know more about you, wanting to know why you were so special to the sun goddess.

-When you were out delivering papers a few days later, Amaterasu was beside herself when she realized you had gone missing, snatched away from the pantheon.

-She immediately knew where to go, heading right for the Greek pantheon, with Susanoo and Tsukuyomi tried to hold her back from waging an all-out war between the two pantheons.

-She was correct however, as you had been taken by Poseidon, spirting you away to his palace in the Greek pantheon, as he was curious about you, wanting to see why you were so special.

-You were scared, as you didn’t know where you were, a powerful god had kidnapped you, and you knew you couldn’t fight against him and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was dangerous, he made you uneasy.

-Amaterasu told you about Poseidon, and about Medusa, whom you remember reading about back on earth in history class, how she was a priestess and he raped her, and she was turned into a gorgon.

-She wanted you to be safe as she was afraid that he would come after you in the same way, despite being married.

-Poseidon was quickly infatuated with you, when you asked to go back home to your mother, soon moving on to demanding him, refusing his advances.

-He didn’t want to force you, he wanted to woo you, so you would come on your own free will, that way he would be safe from Amaterasu and the other gods.

-You refused all his advances, “You’re married! I’m not going to get with a married man! And I’m still only a teenager!” but with each refusal, he grew more and more infatuated.

-When he heard your mother was looking for you, he locked you in a lavish room in a tower, you could see out the windows, but you were trapped, unable to escape while Poseidon went to assure your mother that he didn’t have you.

-Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon had their hands full with Amaterasu, who was ready to launch a full out attack on them, knowing that Poseidon had you somewhere.

-Susanoo called for The Seven Lucky Gods, to search for you while he and Tsukuyomi were trying to prevent a massive war.

-You were trying to tie every piece of cloth you could together, to make a rope to throw out the window so you could climb down and escape, needing to get back to your mother.

-You were terrified, every inch of you was shaking as you shimmed down your makeshift rope until you heard, “Y/N!”

-You gasped, seeing Ebisu who was rushing towards you on the ground below, seeing you escaping from a high tower.

-You slipped, losing your grip and you fell quite a ways before you managed to grab onto the rope again, halting yourself but you cried out in pain as Ebisu shouted out your name again.

-You made it to the ground, letting the rope go and falling into his arms as you felt him touch your waist and you were instantly in tears, your arms wrapped around his neck as you sobbed, having been so scared.

-Ebisu wasn’t the greatest at comforting others, but he held you tightly, furious that Amaterasu was right, Poseidon had taken you, and he had been hiding it from everyone, including his brothers who were trying to defend him as they didn’t know any better.

-When the other Seven Lucky Gods walked in, all furious, Zeus was quick to ask what their interruption was all about before Ebisu stepped forward, you in his arms princess style, as your arms were still wrapped around his neck, not wanting to let him go.

-Instantly all attention turned to Poseidon who looked furious that you were not in the lovely room he had prepared for you, his brothers angry as well, as they had been defending him, only to find out Amaterasu knew what she was talking about.

-Showing her intimidating side for once, shocking everyone in attendance, even you, the heat that was quick to envelop the room was stifling as she spoke, glaring hard, “I will not hesitate to dry your oceans, Sea God, if you ever even look at my daughter again. There will be no mercy a second time.”

-She also threatened Zeus and Hades, who were quick to agree with her, that they were to punish their brother for not only kidnapping you, but also lying about you being hidden away.

-They ended up calling Aphrodite and her son Eros to use an arrow on Poseidon to lose his infatuation with you, but he was to be watched closely.

-Ebisu was quickly blushing, defensive against everyone once you all arrived back to the Shinto pantheon, your home, as you didn’t want to let him go, and Amaterasu cooed on how cute he looked, shouting at her, “OI! I’m not cute!!” which caused a lot of laughter to ring throughout the pantheon.

-Amaterasu kept you close for the next few days, by your choice more than hers, as you felt too nervous to go anywhere without her, which made her sympathize with you, doting on you and reassuring you that he would never come after you again, if he didn’t want to risk his life.

-You cuddled your mother, laying your head on her lap, making her giggle as she brushed her hands through your hair, doting on you, seeing that you were so happy to be there with her, safe and sound from everything.

-That is until you visited the Norse pantheon and Brunnhilde took you flying on her winged horse, giving your mother a slight panic attack, worried about you.

-She knew that she would need to let you grow up, both emotionally and mentally, knowing she couldn’t keep you by her side forever, but she always prayed to you that you would always come home to her, no matter what.

[sitp-recs]

today is hubby’s bday! few people know this but he was my first supporter when I created this blog - in fact, the whole thing was his idea! at the time I had a starker/MCU blog and did a couple reclists. when I fell back into the drarry pit he was like “what if you did the same thing for drarry but with single recs like those book review YT channels” I was very reluctant because big fandoms can be overwhelming and I didn’t feel creative or qualified to rec HP. not only I wasn’t up to date in terms of reading, I’d always been a lurker and didn’t know anyone around here; starker was a smaller, safe community without an insane to-read list or any other type of pressure. when covid hit I decided to take his advice and created the blog to distract myself at lockdown, that’s how the sit-pee brand kick off 😂 the rest is history. I’m feeling nostalgic and wanted to celebrate him somehow; since he’s a fan of fantasy books and magical creatures - dragons in particular - I decided to do a 🐉 reclist! I’ve been wanting to rec some Charlie rarepair fics so this is the perfect excuse. enjoy!

Drarry:

Sanctuary by @stargazing-enby (2021, G, 2k)

Harry finds warmth in peculiar ways on a freezing Romanian winter day.

Keeping the Dragon Keeper by @xx-thedarklord-xx (2018, T, 4k)

Charlie still wasn’t sure what it was about dragons that drew him in. Perhaps it was their intense nature or the way they protected their kind. Maybe it was the way Harry cared for Draco, or the way the latter always kept an eye on his mate. Either way, he would do anything to protect them.

Tiny Dragons & Where to Find Them by @tasteofshapes (2020, T, 5k)

Draco finds the tiny dragon sleeping on the staircase leading up to the astronomy tower.

Dragon Wings and Flying Things by rillalicious (2018, NR, 6k)

The Annual Broom Race of Sweden is headed through the Swedish Short-Snout dragon reservation. Charlie has arranged for Harry to bring Teddy. In the midst of all the excitement, Harry finds out that one of the most famous Dragonologists in recent history is someone very familiar.

Fighting fire with fire by azyxy (2021, E, 12k)

As Deputy Director of the Ministry’s Fire Brigade, Draco Malfoy is an expert firefighter. But after things get out of hand in what should have been a routine operation and Harry Potter arrives to help, Draco finds himself getting hot and bothered for totally unprofessional reasons.

Fata Morgana by @icmezzo (2014, M, 16k)

“It’s only a mirage,” they tell Draco (and Pepper). “You must be imagining,” they dismiss him in turn. But Draco Malfoy is certain that something is out there, and, come hell or Harry Potter, he’ll find out. He will.

Next Time I Fall by sassy_cissa (2019, E, 21k)

When Harry visits Charlie in Romania – he ends up finding more than he bargained for.

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore (2016, E, 22k)

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something?

Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants (2022, E, 33k)

Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed?

Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (2017, E, 45k)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (2011, E, 46k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons! HPDH compliant but before any other canon info had been released.

An Offering of Dragons by Lomonaaeren (2015, M, 46k)

Harry decides that he really needs to take a holiday. He hits on the idea of touring the respective dragon sanctuaries of the world, and invites Draco, who he’s casually dating, to come with him.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w, art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (2022, E, 76k)

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all.

Such Great Heights by aideomai (2015, E, 93k)

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship (2021, E, 98k)

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself?

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by @korlaena (2021, E, 140k)

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine.

Rarepairs:

love on high by tryslora (2015, E, 1.3k) - Charlie/Draco

Charlie loves to take Draco up on dragon back and fuck him high above the ground.

Use My Last Breath (to say I love you) by Cassiara (2020, E, 6k) - Charlie/Harry

Harry loves the way Charlie's hands feel around his neck. He's not sure how to feel about the tiny dragon or the long-distance relationship.

On the Same Side by rillalicious (2018, M, 7.5k) - Charlie/Teddy

Teddy is heading to Romania to protest a proposed anti-dragon law. He finds an interesting ally there.

Where the kind things are by epsilonargus (2018, T, 8k) - Charlie/Teddy

Charlie didn't think there was any other way to live, until he was forced to take Teddy Lupin in as a dragon trainer. Teddy didn't think he could ever be forgiven, until Charlie Weasley told him there was no shame in being kind.

Putting Charlie Right by mindabbles (2018, E, 9k) - Charlie/Teddy

Teddy is good at his job. He can take the most disorganised, poorly maintained record keeping system and have it pass any audit within weeks. Teddy is very, very good at his job, and he’d be able to prove that fact if Charlie wasn’t bent on distracting him.

In the Land of Dragons by megyal (2008, M, 10k) - Charlie/Draco

Charlie's job has changed from dragon-keeper to dragon-hunter in the apocalyptic aftermath of the war. DH-based, but not EWE-compliant; I'm sure I can say it veers into AU territory. Influenced by the movie Reign of Fire.

Exhaling Invisible Fire by gonergone (2014, G, 12k) - Charlie/Harry

As the Wizarding World tries to get itself back in order, Harry needs takes the opportunity for a rest.

Charlie Weasley's Fuck Autobiography by @lqtraintracks (2014, E, 14k) - Charlie/Teddy/Harry/Draco, minor Charlie/Bill

Charlie doesn't think that this is his Fuck Autobiography. But it so is.

Dreaming Skies by @sweet-s0rr0w and @tackytigerfic (2021, E, 20k) - Draco/Ron

Draco's life is going nowhere, so when Charlie Weasley offers him a job out on his reserve, Draco doesn't think twice before booking a Portkey. After all, it's not as if he has many other options. But when he arrives in Romania, he realises that nothing is quite what he expected...

Licurici by @lou-isfake (2021, E, 133k) - Harry/Charlie/Draco

Charlie wanted Harry, but he’d never planned on having him. He’d never planned on Draco Malfoy, either. He hadn’t planned on anything but living out his days in Romania, with his friends and his dragons and his safe, peaceful distance. Apparently, it wasn’t a very popular plan.

[familyromantic]

If you don’t mind, could you give some tv show recs with canon incest?

Sure! I will recommend only what I have watched myself.

Starting with the most popular, House of the dragon. Although I can't say that Daemon and Rhaenyra's couple is my favorite, the show as a whole is good and full of consanguineous couples. (I'm not talking about Game of thrones because I haven't finished it, but I think you know about it).

No less popular, The Borgias (Showtime). It was a starting point for my incest fetish xD I started watching not knowing anything about the Borgia family or that there would be incest in the series, but I shipped Cesare and Lucrezia from the very first episode.

The second season of Elite features a hot pair of half-siblings.

Speaking of less popular shows, we have Another period. This is a pretty peculiar show, but if you like trash comedies, then it will be an ideal option. A canonical twincest couple, they are adorable.

A taste of honey. A very good thing about a couple of uncle and niece. Japanese drama.

Hope it was useful information for you, Anon! :)

UPD. It wasn't mentioned because I forgot about it, but I'm adding it now. El Cid. The chemistry between Alfonso and Urraca is unreal and they are comparable to Cesare/Lucrezia.

[deliciouskeys]

I gotta ask but how long has the butt anon been around? Like every once in a blue moon i will see this lad/lass post and wonder if they been like this since S1.

Kinda reminds me of the shitposters on some The Boys threads who spammed the thing with Maeve dirty feet... cuz i assume butt anon much like feet posters have a peculiar fetish-- yet more weird.

It only started in 2023, to my knowledge. It just feels unfair that this person remains anonymous, so I can’t reciprocate and spam their inbox with some of my stupid hyperfixations, like putting HL in an ever smaller box, letting HL go into a box and trapping him in there like you’d do to a cat then opening it and finding out the hard way that he was claustrophilic and liked being in there all along, and… idk, keeping butchlander as chibipets in a glass cage and observing their vie quotidienne. And wanting said anon to weigh in on all these important matters.

But to really replicate the effect, I’d have to write walls of text about it and imply anyone who doesn’t enjoy these niche things is just not seeing the light / fandom has overlooked the truth.

Personally was never a big fan of the diamond shit lore because it implies no one will ever enter there (which, tragic), and lands heavily on the side of bottom!billy (which isn’t my preference and I mostly only enjoy as noncon <- this is a very normal healthy sentence, don’t quibble with it). Plus, i hate to argue with this, but we have seen no evidence in the show that anything is coming out of his body at abnormal rates or abnormal compression pressures— at least not semen, nor tears. Unless anon is implying he’s been infertile because he’s been turning his sperm cells into sludge before exit. Oops I say I hate to argue but I started to anyway 😩

[maiaspen]

NEW ‘OBLIVION GIN’ STORY ART! AHHHHH!! I am giggling and swooning and THRILLED with this piece by @bakaramia! THANK YOU for allowing me to commission your talents (again).

Art depicting a certain scene… if you’ve read the story, you’ll know! But, I’ll pop the excerpt below 😉 The boys play a drinking game (called ‘Truth or Drink’) and learn a lot more about each other than they expected… aka THINGS GET MESSY!😵‍💫

Please click to read my story on ao3.

Fisto tosses his stone and gets the Anehta. If he had eyelashes to bat at Obi-Wan, he’d be doing it. “Obi-Wan, have you ever had any unusual sexual experiences? With a unique species, or perhaps in a peculiar location?”

Anakin holds his breath. Is Obi-Wan actually going to talk about his sex life with him in the same room? Anakin is sure that his Master will keep his answer quite tame— a story about some diplomatic mission he went on, locked eyes with a respectable-looking sentient and partook in missionary-style intercourse.

“Hmmm.” Obi-Wan scratches his beard as he trolls his memory banks for something vanilla. “When I was seventeen Master Qui-Gon and I were abducted by a fascinating species called the Vindigians on Ifnor Four. Have you heard of them?”

Anakin has not heard of the Vindigians, but Fisto nods, asking: “They are an avian species, yes?"

Just imagining a seventeen-year-old Obi-Wan makes Anakin’s body temperature spike. In an effort to hide his blush, he takes a sip of the disgusting gin.

“Oh, yes. Quite avian.” Obi-Wan laughs uncomfortably. “Long story short— their empress would not release us unless I agreed to breed her—”

Anakin spits out his gin!

His cohorts glance at him as though he has behaved rudely. Anakin wipes his mouth on his forearm, shaking his head. Did he hear Obi-Wan correctly? Breed her?

Obi-Wan disregards his former Padawan and continues his story. “I did try to negotiate around this outcome, but the empress was most insistent and we were very pressed for time. Things could have turned hostile. Anyway, to your question, Kit— the empress was unique. Her nose was as firm as any beak, and goodness, she had feathers galore! A wingspan of six meters, at least, oh, and very sharp taloned feet. But everything else was, you know, as it usually is on a female humanoid. In order to ensure my cooperation — that I was not trying to trick her and would not escape— the empress grabbed a hold of me as though I were prey!” Obi-Wan throws his hands upward to accentuate his surprise. “She then launched into the air, easily disrobing me with those talons, and flew me all over the mountain ranges of Ifnor Four. I got quite a tour of the countryside while we copulated. This was a true test of my multitasking abilities, as letting go of her meant falling to my death. It was a memorable experience to be sure. Fortunately, the empress was a lady of her word. Afterward she set us free with an open invitation to visit again anytime.”

“No doubt,” Fisto says and, for the first time, Anakin thinks that he and the Nautolan are actually making the same expression, because Fisto’s face is a hybrid of ‘awestruck’ and just straight-up ‘what-the-fuck-struck’. “I am certain that Master Qui-Gon appreciated your . . . sacrifice.”

Obi-Wan shrugs, making a face like the experience was just par for the course. “That sort of thing sometimes happened on our adventures.”

Wait—wha—? Anakin and Obi-Wan have been abducted loads of times and nothing like that has ever happened. Obi-Wan usually goes into private negotiations with their captors, and returns having chatted and charmed his way to their freedom— Oh.

It’s Obi-Wan’s turn. He rolls the Semreh and considers Fisto. “Do you have a fetish?”

Obi-Wan just said fetish!

[eldritch-spouse]

Santi’s price list?

Just wondering how much for a smooch👉👈

[For a cutie like you? On the house. ;)]

(Minors dni)

TW: Implied hypnosis.

Santi pouts, long lashes swaying as he mock-blinks in sadness, eyeing the human that shyly walked up to him moments ago.

" Just a smooch, lovely? "

He loves the timid ones. They're his favorite type of client for a plethora of reasons, mostly just the fact that they're often sexually frustrated, and therefore make fuller meals for the incubus. There's always a charm in introducing them to new things, especially humans- They may make up most of the populus, but Santi still wishes he had more human clientele. They're just so squishy and warm and utterly oblivious to monster sex toys.

The monster isn't cheap by any means, there's a reason Santi is the only incubus working at The Clergy, he crushes any competition in a matter of days. He knows what he's doing, put simply- Having both the looks, the attitude, and the gear to satisfy some of the most peculiar of fetishes out there. The list is quite long because of this, and prices vary wildly according to what gear is required as well as how much time is being requested. Overall, he would describe himself as barely affordable, considering what's demanded of him. If you had sexual requests half as bizarre as his then you'd certainly up the pricing as well.

But you're in luck, because Santi is not exactly a monster of his word. Sometimes, every once in a blue moon, he's willing to make adjustments for particularly cute customers who are a little short on moolah. Santi can tell, just from looking at you, that maybe you won't be able to afford the things he hopes to do to you. So, in the interest of still getting in your pants and having a very appetizing meal, he's going to let this one slide.

" You know there are many types of smooches, hm? " He grins, acidic green irises brightening in the dark. You're enraptured, subconsciously closing the distance between the two of you as the timber of Santi's slurred voice washes its way through every inch of your skin.

" I could kiss lots of places... " The monster captures you in thick arms, ever so slightly swaying you into a lulled state. " Are you sure you'd be happy with just one? "

[vukovich]

Peculiar Prompt!

Character 1: Draco

Character 2: Harry

Relationship type: it’s like friends with benefits except instead of sex its blood-drinking (and maybe a little bit of sex) to lovers

Mythical creature: one of them is a vampire

Flavor: hot cheetos

Thing you see while driving: ducks

Fetish: tiny cock ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Weather: blizzard

(i humbly request a not-sad ending, very excited to see what you do with all this!)

Fit to Bust

The hematologist was named Dr Sanguine, which felt fake. His exam table felt plenty real, though.

"Polycythemia," he said.

"Huh?" Harry replied. "Oh. Uhm, monogamy- I mean, monogamous, I guess. If the opportunity arose."

Dr Sanguine shook his head. "It's polycythemia. Not lupus. Dr Histoid owes me a round of golf."

Harry glanced down at the sheaf of handouts. "Huh," he said again. "So now what?"

Dr Sanguine shrugged. "Oddly, this is the only condition in existence that leeches were good for. Call the West End blood donation centre and make an appointment. Once every month or so ought to do it."

"Huh."

--

"I'm sorry," the woman said primly. Her lipliner looked like a smooch-shaped cookie cutter. "But you were declined."

"Huh?" Harry reached for the single sheet of paper on the clipboard in her hands. How could ten questions disqualify him already.

A trim, dark-haired man skidded out into the hall on an exam stool. Cubic zirconia stud earrings glinted on both sides of his head, his perfect hair made Harry self-conscious, and his scrubs were entirely too tight in very nice ways.

"They don't want your sort around here, darling!" the man yelled, then winked. Harry very much wanted to rub his dick on the man's chest.

"Oh," Harry said. "Huh."

--

The St Mungo's Department of Blood Maladies and Sudden Losses was eerily quiet. There were no windows. No ceiling fixtures, only lights in wall sconces. If the halls had been carpeted, it would have felt more like a library or mansion than a hospital wing.

An elderly witch in vintage cat eye glasses silently waved him over to the counter. "Mister Potter," she whispered putting down her book. "We've been expecting you."

"Oh, uh, okay," Harry muttered. It was a far sight better than the Muggle blood donation route, at least. "The Healer I saw said the donors get to choose the vampire... not the other way around... right?"

Visions of being fed on by redheaded women had plagued his nightmares of late.

"Yes," the woman said, nodding. "The rooms have one-way glass, so you can peek in from the hall before you decide to go in."

"Okay, thanks, I-"

A man came out of one of the furthest rooms, delicately pressing a wad of gauze to his neck. Harry gave him a quick head-to-toe assessment. Tall, dark hair, good face, nice chest, trim wai- BULGE, WET SPOT, muscular legs.

The man cleared his throat as he passed the desk. The woman nodded to him. "Four weeks, Mister Ravenswood?"

He licked his lips and caught Harry staring at his crotch. "Yeah, four weeks'll do."

The woman nudged her glasses up higher and addressed Harry. "Go on, then. Take your time. Some of them are more popular than others."

Harry nodded and set off down the hall. There were four doors on each side, and above him, two gold placards. One said "Ladies" and the other "Gents". Harry moved to the "Gents" side of the hall, assuming it was addressing him, then realized that they'd sorted the vampires inside the rooms, not the blood donors.

Across the hall, a woman with curly red hair looked up from her book and waved through the glass, showing a good half-inch of fang. Harry squeaked and huddled against the wall.

The vampire inside the first door looked like Filch, but cleaner, which should have been an improvement, but just felt suspicious. The vampire in the second room looked like a youth Quidditch coach, but not in a sexy DILF sort of way. More of a pins-his-hopes-and-dreams-on-kids kind of way. Both sat in mauve vinyl hospital recliners looking as though they, themselves, were the patients.

The third vampire was missing. His room didn't have a chair, just a bright Persian rug and a heap of satin and velvet throw pillows.

Harry was ready to give up and research phlebotomy spells when he peeked inside the last room. The last vampire looked like David Duchovny.

Harry pushed the swinging door open, and the vampire leapt to his feet. He bared his teeth like a snake.

The back of Harry's head hit the wall first, then his shoulders, then his arse, then his hands. He let out a startle cough, and the vampire slammed a hand around his throat.

Harry groped in his pocket for his wand, found it, and whispered, "Lumos-"

The vampire leaned forward, his nose brushing along Harry's jaw.

"Lumos sol!"

Golden sunlight streamed out of Harry's pocket. The vampire hissed, grabbed him by the neck, and shoved him though the swinging door.

Harry kept his wand pointed at the door for several long moments, watching as the vampire went from snarling at the glass to pacing, to sitting back down in his chair.

Harry rubbed his neck. Leave it to St Mungo's to get donors killed.

The third room was still empty. Unless there was a vampire hiding inside that pile of pillows.

Harry looked at the not-DILF Quidditch coach. The man looked like a skinny Jack Black, which should have been a compliment, but wasn't. He pushed the door open slowly.

The vampire glanced up once, curtly, then announced, "No blokes."

Harry threw a hand up dismissively and turned around and went back out into the hall.

The redheaded vampire across the hall waved to him again. She was using a fang to tie off yarn on a knitting project. Absolutely not.

Nobody had told him that the whole blood drinking thing actually was sexual, but he'd assumed it couldn't not be sexual. And the fact that the one vampire had a no-penis policy seemed to prove it.

And the human who'd left as he was coming in had obviously had a good time, presumably with the vampire from room three, who'd already fed and left.

How could it not be sexual to have someone stronger than you, faster than you, hold you down, pierce into your body, and drink you down. Every single bit of that was sexual.

But if he had to choose between that kind of intimacy with a blood-sucking, Argus Filch-looking son of a bitch and experimenting with blood letting spells, the spells sounded like the better bet.

He waved back to the knitting vampire and headed to the desk on his way to the lifts.

The woman at the desk didn't look up from her book, but cleared her throat loudly. "No luck?" she said in a creaky old voice.

"Uhm," Harry said, "No, I suppose not."

She nodded ambivalently.

Harry started to leave, but stopped. Maybe that missing vampire was worth asking about. Blood letting spells were notoriously hard to control, and the leading cause of false death reports.

"The, uhm," he started. "The vampire in the third room. What's his, uhm..."

Harry left his question in the air.

She arched an eyebrow and marked her page with a finger. "Well, he certainly never goes hungry. Quite popular." She gave Harry a tiny smirk. "I think you'd get along fine. He comes every few days."

"Huh," Harry said. "Alright. I'll try again on Thursday."

She opened her book and shooed him away with "Wear something nice."

--

Harry showered, put on nice trousers, a clean shirt, and arrived five minutes before donation hours started, only to find out...

It was Malfoy. Harry's entire body slumped, standing in the hallway, and he considered kicking the door like a petulant teenager.

Of course it was Malfoy. Who else would drag a Persian carpet and a cubic yard of throw pillows into a hospital room just to eat a meal twice a week?

Malfoy.

Malfoy would require the trappings of luxury for a fucking snack.

Harry lingered in the hall and watched Malfoy, sprawled in his pillow nest like a Victorian courtesan. He appeared to be asleep, but as far as Harry knew, vampires didn't sleep.

There was a good chance Malfoy would just tell him to fuck off. There was also a good chance he wouldn't, and Harry would have to reconcile having a pseudo-sexual encounter with Malfoy, of all people. Quite possibly an actual sexual encounter, which could be brilliant, because Malfoy was hot. Or it could be a disaster, because the world at large had yet to notice that Harry Potter, media darling, had a dick the size of his thumb. If anyone was willing to sell that story to the tabloids, it would be Malfoy.

Harry rested the tips of his fingers on the door, but didn't push it open. Maybe he could pull this off without getting his dick involved. If he could summon enough loathing for Malfoy, maybe it could just be a blood letting, and nothing else.

He sighed and pushed the door open.

One of Malfoy's eyes slid open, then the other, like an annoyed snake. He licked his fangs, and Harry waited for a snide remark.

Instead, Malfoy's nostrils flared. His voice was lazy and thick. "Polycythemia?" he asked, as if questioning the daily special at a restaurant.

"Uhm," Harry muttered, "yeah. How'd you know?"

Malfoy shrugged, one-shouldered. "Smells like it." He yawned and sank into the pillows.

The points of his fangs caught the light from a small lamp in the corner, and Harry's arms ran with goosebumps. He blew out a breath and willed himself to calm the fuck down. It was just Malfoy. Stupid, pointy, pasty (extra pasty now) Malfoy.

Malfoy made no effort to move, so Harry stood nervously at the edge of the rug. "So, uhm, how'd you end up a vampire? Last I heard, you were a Cursebreaker."

Malfoy shrugged again. "Still am. I didn't use a containment ward on an artifact I should have. Ended up bleeding to death here in hospital, but Mum knew someone who knew someone who knew someone undead, so... Night shift Cursebreaker now."

"Huh." Harry wondered if he needed to take his shoes off to step on the rug, but Malfoy had his shoes on. But his shoes were cleaner than Harry's. "So... how's being a vampire?"

Malfoy's smile was slow and left his eyes cold. "No complaints."

Harry stepped on the rug. "You don't mind hunting people for food, do you?"

Malfoy's grin showed his fangs. "You think I have to hunt?"

Harry tried to ignore the thrill that raced up his spine. "Don't you?"

The toes of Harry's shoes met the edge of the mound of pillows, but Malfoy made no move to rise.

"Mm, no. Not once." Malfoy ran his tongue over a canine. "My prey comes to me, doesn't it?" He patted the royal blue velvet pillow next to his hip.

Harry licked his lips and sank to one knee. The rug gave way slowly under his kneecap. It was one thing to have a vampire pin him against a wall, or tackle him to the ground. That was a trial to endure, and that's what most of his life had been. But never had he crawled eagerly into a predator's lair. And definitely not with his dick rubbing against the back of his zipper like this.

Malfoy lifted an arm and let Harry settle in along his side. They sank down together, and Harry wiggled closer. There was no magic to it beyond a warm, welcome body and a soft bed.

"You're warm," Harry said.

Malfoy shrugged. "Only hungry vamps are cold."

Harry laid his head on Malfoy's arm and rolled onto his side. He bent his knees up a bit to hide the little tent in his trousers. The entire length of his neck was exposed. Any second, Malfoy would strike. He'd move like a bolt of lightning. He'd pin Harry down and sink his teeth into Harry's neck.

A tiny squeak snuck out of Harry, followed by an embarrassed flush across his cheeks.

Malfoy glanced at him sidelong, not even turning his head toward Harry. He swallowed, and Harry did, too.

Harry's cock was far too hard, and he was sure Malfoy could smell it. If he could smell a blood disorder, he could surely smell Harry's arousal. Any second, he'd strike.

Malfoy sighed. "I'm not just going to bite you and suck the blood out, Potter."

"Huh?"

"I was raised to appreciate a meal." Malfoy turned his head, nose to nose with Harry, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Anticipation and all."

"Uhm, okay. What... I mean... How..."

Malfoy licked his teeth, and Harry felt the heat of his mouth ghost over his lips. "I want you ready to burst when I finally bite you."

Harry gulped.

Malfoy rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms loosely around Harry. His lips grazed Harry's chin. "I want to barely nick you and have you flood my mouth."

Harry's entire body ran hot, and his cock throbbed against his trousers.

Malfoy's lips kissed a slow, soft line along Harry's jaw. "I want your heart in your throat when I put my teeth in it."

Malfoy slipped his thigh between Harry's, and Harry's cock rubbed against Malfoy's hip.

"Oh, God," Harry blurted.

He lifted his chin and gave Malfoy his neck. Malfoy's breath shuddered out as he lowered his mouth to Harry's neck. His hand left Harry's hip to slide between them, cupping Harry through his trousers. Malfoy moaned again when he found Harry's cock.

"Oh, fuck," Harry whispered. "Fuck-fuck-fuck."

Malfoy's tongue was hot and wet against Harry's neck, and he wasn't certain who was making more noise. He thrust into Malfoy's hand, tension building at the base of his cock with every thrust.

"Fuck," Harry gasped, "bite me."

His balls tightened, and he tried to stave of the weight of his impending orgasm, but it was too much, too good.

Malfoy sighed against Harry's ear, and Harry moaned and humped into Malfoy's hand.

And Malfoy finally struck, slow and seamless. Harry didn't know he'd done it until his vision wavered, and he felt Malfoy's jaw working against his throat. His body faltered as Malfoy stroked him through his trousers. His muscles went lax. Black spots danced in front of him. And he was still so fucking close to coming, held in suspended animation as his blood pressure dropped, his brain starving for oxygen.

His vision went black. His ears rang. He let out a strangled, helpless peep of a moan as he sank into the nothingness.

Malfoy took a deep breath, and, like a gunshot, the room rushed back into focus. Light, then sound, then arousal flooded Harry, and the suspended tension in his hips broke like a tidal wave. Malfoy stroked him one last time, Harry's body went rigid, and he came in his trousers like a fucking teenager.

Malfoy licked Harry's neck as he came, and Harry clutched his head. Malfoy let out a low, satisfied chuckle, then gave Harry's neck a final kiss. He rose, licking his lips clean. In the dim lighting, it looked like barbecue sauce.

"Shit," Harry whispered. He stared up at Draco, wide-eyed and thoroughly dazed. "That was good."

"Mm hm," Draco hummed. "What did you have for dinner?" He licked his lips and hummed appreciatively again. "Curry? No, no real spices, just the capsaicin."

"Uhm." Harry's boxers were absolutely plastered to his groin. "Flamin' Hot Cheetos."

Draco sucked his spit through his teeth. A pink flush was rising in his cheeks. "Hot Cheetos," he said absently.

Despite the sticky situation in his pants, fatigue washed over Harry. He yawned and snuggled down into the pillows. He half-expected Draco to nudge him to leave, but he tucked a pillow under his own head and curled his arms around Harry.

Harry tucked his head under Draco's chin. "So you're here twice a week?"

"Mm hm."

"What do you do the other nights?"

Draco nuzzled his chin in Harry's hair. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Harry yawned and butted his forehead against Draco's chest. "Maybe I would like to know."

Draco huffed in surprise. "Huh."

[deerydear]

I'm going to archive a testimony from another woman's experience of gender-dissonance and de-transitioning.

Her story has really stuck with me.

The following is a discussion pertaining drug abuse, molestation, and mental illness. There are some opinions that could be taken as prejudiced against transgender people. There is usage of slurs.

I encourage the reader to understand the author as a human being, but to draw your own opinions and conclusions.

The first post was published in a support thread for people who had lost a close friend, family member, or colleague to a destructive gender-identity-crisis.

"Note: if your friend or loved one transitioned and stayed the same cool person and are chill with themselves and you, more power to both you and them. This is for coping with people who destructively transitioned."

Glossary:

Troon - noun- slang term for a transgender individual. It originated in the forums of Something Awful. Fans of the site were referred to as 'goons'. Transgender members began to refer to themselves as 'troons' (trans goons). This usage became adopted as a somewhat derogatory term. Sometimes I see people differentiate 'troons' from 'regular transgender individuals, in saying that troon refers to unsavory, internet-addicted, unstable individuals. It really depends on what the individual means, in their own writing. ...'goon' has a negative connotation, because of the peculiarities of Something Awful's web culture. There was a lot of drama and bad behaviour committed on-site, so '"a goon is annoying', and 'a trans goon is an annoying trans person" ----to troon out (verb): to transition, or to 'come out' as trans.

Power-level - verb: "to reveal your 'power-level', i.e. "to reveal how strong that you are, your weaknesses, your personal information". to talk too much about personal details of one's own life, in public. The term comes from Dragonball Z.

Spoiler - noun -- Much of this writing is hidden behind 'spoilers' on the original forum. They function like 'read-more links' on this site. "Spoilered" - verb ---- to hide something behind a 'spoiler' link.

Pozz'd -- adjective - "testing positive for an infection." Originally described the spread of the HIV infection. In this case, it's used to describe an 'ideological' infection. Sometimes used derogatorily for homophobic "lol, gay" connotations. i.e. "lol [you are] gay and pozz'd" (Also may have sexual-fetish connotations. i.e. 'bug-chasers': people who intentionally seek to get infected with HIV through sex. I believe this fetish subculture is where this specific term had originated from. "Pozz'd" describes a prospective sexual partner who already carried the infection.)

I think that should be enough...

Her first post:

[You may ask, "Who have you lost?"]

Myself.

I'm in a (hungover) rambling mood today, so please forgive my lack of brevity. I wish I could warn people like me, I wish I could help people, I wish I could spare them the same anguish. I'm going to powerlevel quite a bit, to an almost obnoxious degree, because I really can't talk about this anywhere else, as even my therapists and doctors are pozz'd on transgender ideology and they challenge me on my gender dysphoria that I experienced, saying that I was "misdiagnosed".

I was not misdiagnosed, the diagnosis was accurate. The treatment, however, was not.

The text block below is intended to provide context. I was on exogenous testosterone for approximately 3.5 years, and, despite my regular objections to procedures deemed cosmetic, or medications not strictly necessary, I expected to remain on it for the rest of my days. I didn't talk about my transsexuality with anyone other than medical professionals, and was generally very quiet about my transition, because I truly considered it a medical condition for me to keep quiet and shut up about. I believed, at the time, that I did not care how others perceived me, because I chose to make no fuss about things such as pronouns and other terms of address. I didn't identify as "male", I didn't feel any kind of internal "gender identity", and struggled to understand what a gender identity even was, even after having it explained countless times to me by "queer" individuals.

The gender dysphoria began when I was a kid, though I obviously did not have the vocabulary to describe it as such. I grew up with all-male friends and, like all kids, could not fully grasp the concept of "puberty". I knew that my friends would grow up to be men, and I expected the same to happen to me, because, despite different sexes, considered myself to be the same as my male friends. My very first memory of intense mental distress at my gender must have been when I was 10 years old, and an older, very pretty girl was regaling me with stories of puberty, of periods, and breasts, and boys, and, let me tell you- I was absolutely devastated. I told her as much, she questioned as to why, and I replied, as we sat on a bench watching some friends of mine play basketball:

"Because I won't be one of them anymore"

I admired girls as a kid, I thought they were very pretty and very intimidating, but all of my socialisation came from my brothers, my male friends, and my father, and as such I was always rejected socially. I was criticised for being too loud, too weird, too dirty, and they didn't take too kindly to my habit for catching reptiles and other creepy crawlies, and proudly showing them off. I saw the way that my friends treated other girls, they were another species, and I was certain I'd lose my friendships. I was right, unfortunately.

It was alright for a few years, but most of my friends were gone soon enough. The ones who weren't no longer treated me as an equal, because, while they were reaping the benefits of testosterone and becoming faster, stronger, more capable, I was not, and, instead of being one of the most athletic as I once was, I was suddenly the weakest, which put me at the bottom of the social pecking order. I played co-ed sports and I envied my male peers for how much stronger and faster they were becoming with minimal training, whereas I would work my ass off and never fully match them.

Like every other woman, starting in my early teens, when I still very much had the mind of a child, I was sexually harassed by strange men old enough to be my father, I was groped on public transit, I was made to feel like prey. I developed migraines and arthritis due to oestrogen causing inflammation and causing my immune system to attack my tissues. I couldn't run, or draw, or do much of the normal childhood activities after puberty. In interactions with family and school, I was forced to perform femininity and suppress my loud, tomboyish personality, I couldn't understand why my interactions with society were suddenly so irreversibly changed simply because I had breasts and hips. I was still the same person I was a kid, so I couldn't understand why I was being treated so differently, why I could no longer enjoy what I used to.

I didn't know then that I could just be an unapologetically butch woman, the only examples I saw of womanhood were sexualised, hyper-feminine, and entirely antithetical to my ideals and character. I mistakenly believed that manhood was what I was "meant" to live as, because I didn't see any other option, I didn't see that I could just be a person.

My symptoms of gender dysphoria were classic, the same ones expressed by all the "old guard" transsexuals, and my doctors believed this was sufficient reason to pursue transitioning for me. My body truly felt "wrong", I hated my feminine characteristics, I had expected to develop as a man, I couldn't understand why my body was developing this way and the distress I felt was debilitating. I was desperate for a cure, and, because of my history, my autoimmune disease that was triggered by oestrogen, and the mental symptoms that manifested, I was considered a perfect candidate for gender transition. Looking back, I get the sense that the doctors had no fucking idea how to help me, and were just throwing shit at the wall to try to fix me. They did their best, honestly.

I naively believed that my psyche was discrete from my experiences, trauma, society, and conditioning. This was categorically incorrect.

In early 2022, I realised that transitioning could never get me where I truly wanted to be, and, while the experimental treatment was a valiant effort, and seemed to at least lessen the severity of the symptoms, I wanted a real cure. I just wanted to be happy, and I knew deep down that transitioning was not the answer.

There was a story I was told by a psychiatrist many years ago, it went something like this:

There was a woman who had treatment-resistant OCD. Everyday, when she would try to leave for work, she would start to drive, and suddenly be gripped by the fear that she'd left her curling iron on, and that her home would burn down. She arrived to work hours late, because she would turn back over and over again, to double-check that her curling iron was not left on. Her doctor tried everything- therapy, medications, nothing worked. Finally, at an appointment, her doctor said to her: "Why don't you just take the curling iron to work with you?" So, the next day, she took the curling iron with her in her car, and she got to work on-time for the first time in years. The doctor was criticised by his colleagues for not treating the root cause of the OCD, only treating the symptoms. However, the woman's OCD was in remission at this point, and she was able to lead a normal life and participate in society.

I had originally believed that I was like this patient, that I had done everything I could do, and this would treat my symptoms and make me functional.

Now, I realised what a massive mental burden transitioning was, and I wanted to treat the disease itself, to get off of these hormones, to allow myself to date, and love, and live like a normal person. I wanted to be able to be able to just fuck off and travel without having to worry about medications, I hate surgery, and I didn't want to feel forced to modify a physically healthy body. As before, therapy and medication still did not work, it felt as though this gender dysphoria was an in-grained, immutable part of my psyche. All of the people that I spoke to, my parents, medical professionals, LGBTs, that I spoke to, affirmed that gender dysphoria was incurable except by transitioning. I'd read about how psychedelics had helped military veterans with PTSD, and I figured, "If it can help them, maybe it can help me".

So, caution to the wind, I took LSD, and it made me realise that my psyche and all of its aberrations were a direct result of a lifetime of trauma. My personality is a sum of my experiences, but not all of them. Ideas could be integrated or discarded, if an idea were enforced over and over again, it would become a larger part of my personality, but personality is not static. This seems so obvious in retrospect, but there's a difference between understanding something logically, and actually knowing it. My gender dysphoria was just a very deeply-rooted case of OCD, quite frankly, like other body dysmorphic disorders, such as anorexia nervosa.

I think of gender as a set of ideals, stereotypes, and performances that are passed down like tradition through society. It makes me sad that they are being revived with such fervour in western society, I wish they didn't exist, I wish women could be as masculine as they please without punishment, I wish men could be as feminine as they want; I wish it weren't "safer" and more socially acceptable to be a tranny then to be a butch woman or an effeminate gay man. I traded one set of gender norms for another to conform to the wills of idiots, when I could have just rejected all of it and lived however the fuck I wanted. I wish I could tell this to every modern transgender person, so they don't have to go through what I did to arrive at this conclusion. I wish I could make them see that there is nothing "wrong" with their body if it is functional and healthy, that they're facing a brutal mental illness that they can recover from with significant time and effort (and, I'll admit, maybe some very powerful mind-altering psychedelics).

I'm in therapy now, tackling the experiences that shaped me, those mentioned above and those omitted, because I can only powerlevel so hard on a public forum before even I believe that I am oversharing (LOL). It's a bit grating sometimes, because my therapist believes in transgender ideology, but it works, and it helps. Everyday it gets easier, everyday I grow, and change, and heal as a person. It's hard, but it is worth it.

I'd believe that not everyone recovers from gender dysphoria, it's hard to recover, believe me, I know it most of anyone, but transitioning shouldn't be treated as a first-line treatment, if dispensed at all, especially to young people still in the throes of puberty. It's cosmetic, it's a last ditch effort to try to help someone who is suffering. It is no silver bullet, and the pronouns, the denial of sex, is just a bizarre way to try to comfort and indulge someone who is deeply mentally ill.

I do mourn a bit of my visibility as a butch woman. Although my bone structure is undeniably female, due to my voice and personality, I am taken to be male most of the time in public. It's fine, such is life as a masculine woman, but I do wish I had taken pride in my identity and my reality, to live unapologetically as myself, to encourage young butch women to live as themselves without giving a fuck about what other people think of them. I transitioned to conform, and to escape mental anguish, and sexism, I shouldn't have had to have done that.

As an ironic aside, there has been promising research into my autoimmune disease using certain steroids to ease the symptoms and improve quality of life, so I may be going back on testosterone analogues in the near future, lol. Lady Fate has a dark sense of humour, I guess.

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兄貴 Forevermore replied:

I have regarding your experiences that you spoilered. There's an old friend of mine, she has severe PMS and feels likes trooning out because of this. Severe as in I can count the days and she'll have the symptoms like clockwork (Extremely bad temper, lack of concentration, depression, acne). I don't have PMS for obvious reasons, but is there anything I could say to dissuade them from this? I've already told them how being a male is not what it seems but no effect.

I'm sorry to hear, I've been in that position too. I'm sure she's seen many (likely male) doctors who have dismissed her conditions and offered no functional treatment, and she is tired of feeling miserable, so she sees testosterone as her only option. She might not listen to you, given that you are male, so you are welcome to show her this post or say you talked to a friend about it.

I won't lie, it [testosterone] is a good mood stabiliser, I was less emotionally volatile in some ways in that I was less fearful, I was happier, I had more energy and more motivation, but I also had greatly diminished impulse control and I was more keen to jump into conflicts with other people. It is the more fun hormone, I won't deny it, but it's really not worth the health concerns (osteoperosis, heart strain, blood clots and stroke above that of even natal males, memory issues), and her anger issues will remain no matter what sex hormones dominate her endocrine system. The reason why testosterone is a mood stabiliser is because it improves serotonin activity in key areas of the brain, including the amygdala.

As estrogen levels drop off before her menses, her serotonin in her brain plummets, which leads to overall feelings of fear, doom, anxiety, and lack of concentration. Fear and lack of control leads to anger. I'm sure you know this all already, but I find it helpful to lay things out clearly so we can consider the mechanisms behind our issues, and consider some possible solutions. Firstly, I'm sure she's already tried SSRIs and found, like many other people, they're zombie pills and they make you feel like shit.

With issues like depression, anger issues, lack of concentration, these are most likely more issues with how she interacts with her own mind and her life style, rather than purely her hormones fluctuating. She'll still have anger issues even if she is on testosterone. She has to learn how to manage her emotions responsibly, which is a hard skill to learn, but is possible. Due to chronic pain from neurological and rheumatic disabilities that are exacerbated by estrogen fluctuations, I also struggled with anger management, because chronic pain caused my baseline stress level to be very high just to cope with the pain.

Tips for anger management: I'm sure it can be hard not to turn to physical aggression and violence when feelings get overwhelming, it's primal and instinctual, but it is also socially unacceptable.

1) If she isn't already, start meditating for 5-30 minutes/day, ideally morning and evening, but just evening works. This helps to give a sense of control and stability, and to learn how to feel emotions whilst also being able to observe them calmly. It really does help with reducing anxiety and improving motivation.

2) Work out everyday if she isn't already, ideally both cardio and resistance. It doesn't have to be a lot in the beginning, it can be a 30 minute bike ride and 20 pushups, but it's enough to raise your heart rate and get you out of your head, which reduces anxiety and aggression. It helps to consider active tasks that involve all of your focus to be a state of active meditation, like surfing, riding a bike, paddleboarding, that kind of thing. This is just anecdotal, but I've found exercise like this to really help with trauma and anger issues, and others have too.

3) FIX YOUR FUCKING DIET!! I don't care who you are or what you eat, I guarantee you can be eating better. When you are PMSing, your serotonin plummets, and what temporarily bumps serotonin? Shit food. Sugar, carbs, heavily processed garbage I wouldn't feed my dog, cut all that out. It will make her feel better at first, but the issue is that most of your serotonin is made in your bowels, and if she eats like shit, she will feel like shit. No pun intended. So put aside all those sweets and breads, eat just meat, cheese, nuts, mushrooms, full-fat yogurt, fruit, and vegetables. If she doesn't already cook at home, it can be a very rewarding skill to learn, and you can eventually start preparing all of your meals on sunday night and just eat leftovers throughout the week to save time. It sounds like a lot of work, changing your diet CAN be hard, but I promise it's worth it.

3.5) Take magnesium, vitamin D (if she doesn't work outside), B-complex vitamins, especially before and whilst menstruating. These helped with my mood, and the magnesium helps a lot with cramps and inflammation.

4) Don't repress your emotions. When you're angry, instead find an acceptable outlet, do pushups or go for a walk, which will get the adrenaline dump "out", and will also make you physically stronger, which is always a bonus.

5) Practice "box breathing" whenever you have a free moment. This is an example of bio-feedback, basically tricking your body into being calm and reducing cortisol. Breath in for four seconds, hold for four seconds, exhale for four seconds, hold (empty) for four seconds, inhale and repeat.

I mean this in the nicest way possible, but anger really is a state of mind. You can learn to manage it through discipline, exercise, meditation.

Hormonal depression and lack of concentration is a bitch, but just forcing yourself to move your body and exercise vigorously can help to really take the edge off. Beyond that, it may be worth speaking with a psychiatrist and looking into typically adhd-prescribed medications such as Wellbutrin, which is a dopamine reuptake inhibitor and is great for some (including myself) for aiding motivation and mood stabilisation, and Ritalin, or another stimulant to take on the terrible days to help with depression. Not many know this, but stimulants are sometimes prescribed for depression.

For acne, look into topical salicylic acid, it reduces inflammation, and wash your face 1-2 times per day (acne-formulated face washes are awesome). Witch hazel is also great. If her acne really is so terrible she wants to transition, perhaps she should see a doctor, but if it's just hormonal acne, it really should be very manageable.

You can't stop your friend from transitioning, but if her lifestyle and diet are shit it would be a good idea to fix that first, and to look into less harmful and permanent medications. She sounds like she's dealing with serious emotional regulation problems that she needs to figure out coping mechanisms for, and ideally see a therapist + psychiatrist for professional coping mechanism advice and medications. Testosterone makes you more impulsive, not less, and will  not help with emotional regulation at all.

On being perceived as a man: It's not uncommon for victims of a lifetime of misogyny, predatory behaviour, and sexism to see manhood as the key to their "prison". Unfortunately, being a manlet is not all it's cracked up to be. In work and life, as a perceived butch woman, I was sometimes mocked for my masculinity, but I was also respected, because I developed a hard and dominant exterior that forced people to shut up and listen in team meetings. I'm sure I was called a "bitch" sometimes, but that's how it goes. In social situations, when people started perceiving me as a diminutive male, while my competitive and harsh personality was expected of me and no longer controversial, I lost much of the respect I had earned, because I was suddenly the lowest in the pecking order of men. I have much more sympathy for men than I once did, the strength and size based pecking order of men can be brutal, even in more stereotypically "nerdy" fields.

[blogger's note: "My experience has been similar, in being mistaken for a real man."]

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兄貴 Forevermore replied:

I got my friend to not transition for now. I think your notes helped quite a bit but we did get in a physical confrontation (She got angry and tried to fight me, knowing I can't really fight back cause cops always blame the man, the irony) over it. I guess I'll take that as a win? I seriously debate if I should keep this friend right now. I hate how there's so few sane people these days. She got angry, tried to wrestle me into the ground (she's got better joint and muscle density) but failed since I dodged so she reverted to the age-old crotch kick so I just sidestep swept and thew her onto the ground. Pretty sure in a real fight as a "man" she'd be put down at the first try and not with the kid gloves like I did.

Lol, fucking hell. I'm glad to hear your friend is holding off on making the same mistake I did. Testosterone made me more impulsive and competitive, and made negative emotions such as anger feel dialled up to "11"; since she's already so quick to jump to her primal instincts, that just sounds like a recipe for disaster.

No ADHD meds in my system, please forgive my rambling on the subject:

You are absolutely right about kid gloves coming off in confrontations when you are perceived as male; I used to be a lot more belligerent when I was perceived as just a regular butch woman, ironically, because my words would rarely, if ever, lead to me getting my ass kicked by the man I was challenging. On testosterone, I had to learn to be far more polite and reasonable, and to manage my anger, because now my challenges were matched and I could be easily beaten in a physical fight. It's funny, in "women's world", physical prowess just doesn't have much of a bearing on socialisation, and I reckon this was just some subconscious instinct activated by elevated testosterone, but when I sort of crossed that fence to the other gender, I was always automatically sizing up everyone I interacted with, to see if I could beat them in a fight. I also found that I felt more comfortable when teams were being lead by people who were physically stronger and fitter than I, and I had experienced strange moments of frustration where I would want to challenge a person giving me orders or instructions, if my lizard brain had determined they were weaker than I was.

It was all very strange, and I expressed as much at the time to a male friend of mine, it's apparently a regular thing experienced by some young men. It was all a very interesting look in how hormones affect psychology and personality.

I'm honestly rather grateful for the tough lessons I learned, hard as the road was and the mistakes that I made, it made me realise that my manners and words really do have consequences and social weight to them, and I still tend stick to my old habits of being reserved with my anger and "fighting words", resolving conflicts diplomatically, and always trying to approach social situations with kindness and respect. It's amusing to me, how roiding up ended turning me into this peaceful person. Oh, if 18 year old me could see me now, with her leather jacket and aggressive anti-authority ideology, she'd probably call me a "fucking pussy". lmao.

[blogger's note: "same here..."]

I think the world could be a much better place if social circles were more co-ed, so women might be exposed to the, if technically flawed, idea of "might making right", and learn to avoid making unnecessary verbal assaults on their peers. Similarly, I often find men who have co-ed friend groups, or female family members whom they are close to, are more empathetic towards women and avoid sexual harassing them, or falling into incel ideology pits of self-loathing and entitlement. Just as it made me a bit depressed for the state of our society when men in my life would see women as just a pretty body to fuck with an expiration date of 30, and a source for a son, it always made me sad to overhear women who dehumanise the men in their lives as free meal tickets or as being somehow incapable of feeling the full range of human emotion. What a novel idea, who would have thought that platonic socialisation with the opposite sex would lead to being better socially adjusted adults? (sarcasm).

My father always used to tell me, wonderful anti-war hippy he was: "violence is never the answer". It might piss your friend off again to tell her this, but I find it to be an accurate and helpful mantra to keep close to one's heart.

In regards to keeping your friend in your life, it depends on how much patience and energy you have to spare in rehabilitating them. I would not have gotten off of drugs, alcohol, and hormones, and into therapy, were it not for the unconditional support of my friend group. They pushed me to workout everyday, they made me eat right and learn how to properly cook for myself, they taught me how to reprogram my thoughts to not constantly insult and belittle myself, they encouraged me when the withdrawals and cravings were rotting my brain. I really, truly, could not have gotten where I am today without their help, and my gratitude is boundless. They helped me even when I was a wreck, without expectation of reward or thanks, when nobody else would, even doctors, because I hid my mental illness and addiction well and remained a "functional" addict. It was hard to help someone with a lifetime of mind-altering trauma, it was hard for them to help someone with dependencies on body-destroying substances, and they could have given up on me years ago, but despite it all they didn't. I can't ever really repay the favour, that human kindness I experienced first-hand, but I do my best by trying to help people in a rough spot mentally, even if it's tremendously difficult sometimes, even if it's frustrating and slow.

You have no real obligation to stand by a friend who is cruel and unruly, everyone is entitled to moderate their own experiences in life, but if you have the energy and the drive, and you want to help someone, just one friend can change a person's life around.

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Professor G. Raff said: This is the most heavy thread on the farms. Whenever I come and read the accumulated posts I am always filled with sadness and a lingering feeling I shouldn't come back for my own mental health and that is just as an outsider looking in at situations that seem unbearable for those effected. At the same time, it's full of genuine heart-warming support that makes it feel like there is still some warmth in the world. My biggest take-away is the shocking amount of abuse and manipulation of women forced into adjacency of the tranny-sphere by MtFs… those stories are always so visceral and just show how often it's nothing but a ploy for control and fetish fulfillment. It really makes me appreciate the farms for giving them a place to vent about it as I would bet anything trans-widows would probably be one of the most savagery attacked groups on the normie internet.

It's a heavy thread, but I've come to cherish it. There's no place on the internet that I have found where I can speak, without censorship, on my first-hand experiences with the abusive and manipulative nature of TIMs and the Trans Rights movement as a whole. There's Ovarit, of course, but I've found them much too misandrist to be around. I don't hate men, my father is one, after all. Even through bad experiences, we have the benefit of being able to see patterns in the behaviours of these terrible men, and warning others, not that many people seem to be listening.

I've tried, in the past, to speak on these experiences with my now-former friends, and I was met with responses demanding I use his pronouns, that he was just a pooooooor mentally ill transgender 'woman' and he didn't really mean it, that not all transgender individuals are like that. Fuckall sympathy, because I was committing the thoughtcrime of referring to a man, 6'+, born with testicles, a penis, and capable of sperm production, as "he". It is absurd to me that an autistic gossip forum of all places is a place where I find understanding and shared experience. It's the Yaniv and the CWC cases all over again, over and over, demanding victims of abuse walk on eggshells around narcissistic, worthless, weak men to avoid hurting their feelings. I lost years of my life, my health, spent a small fortune trying to repair my mind and spirit, and I'm expected to protect him? It's absurd! It's just more gaslighting and manipulation. By "validating" (I truly hate this word) the identity of these men, it seems to me that they're condoning this behaviour within their community. It's disgusting, it's cultish, and it's abusive.

Tard Whisperer said: (lol, tard whisperer...)

I am just sick of this, I wish I could just go along with trans ideology, it would be so much easier.

I hear you, I understand you.

I hate these creepy fucks, I really do, but part of me wishes we'd all just shut up and get it over with so we can get back to dealing with our real issues. Issues with reaganomics still plaguing the US in barely-disguised corporatism, workers' rights, poor city planning and land allocation, environmental and natural resource protection, better parental support, responsible farming practices that don't rape and murder our topsoil (dustbowl, anyone?), better public transportation solutions, cost of healthcare, an outdated education system, cut funding to art and music programs for children, housing, I can think of a million other things the left could, ought to, be focusing on instead, but here we are, still bickering ineffectually about eunuchs. It's exhausting and frustrating. Both mainstream political parties are laughable shells of their ideals, it's depressing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the Trans Rights movement is a ploy by the elite to keep us all too busy and angry to notice any of our real problems, but conspiracy theories are something I try to avoid espousing.

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A few years ago I ended up in a sexually, emotionally, and physically abusive "BDSM" relationship with a degenerate TIM who fetishised and envied my inherent anatomical femininity as a woman, and whose idea of womanhood consisted of being sexually degraded and dominated. He would get angry with me whenever I would spend my time studying some skill, or spending time with anyone except him, he was exceptionally jealous and entitled, and he would force himself upon me sexually and blame it on "his body", that he just couldn't control himself, and that really, I should just be flattered. During our time together, he convinced me that I was FTM, and I believed him, because I was in a very mentally vulnerable and dissociated state at the time. I was told by every doctor, psychiatrist, and psychotherapist that I met the clinical diagnosis for Gender Dysphoria and that if I just took this drug and had these surgeries, I would feel better. I was hesitant, I think I knew, in my gut, that this was wrong and wouldn't save me, but I nevertheless injected 0.2-0.3ml of testosterone cypionate once a week, for a little over three years. The timelines are fuzzy, but I eventually snapped out of his conditioning, by the grace of some kind and benevolent god, and left, and he accused me of transphobia and made me out to be the abuser in the relationship. I never was much of an addict before him, I smoked some pot and drank a bit on the weekends with friends, as one in does, but after our breakup I was an alcoholic and a junkie, and I was still abusing testosterone. I was getting high and drunk on anything within reach nearly everyday, and I was actively suicidal and self-harming. One of my favourite drug classes at the time were dissociatives, such as DXM and Ketamine, the former notable for causing permanent brain damage in one "minor" trip akin to binge-drinking for several weeks straight. DXM is not a fun drug, do not do it,  ever. Do not abuse benzodiazepanes either, they're a dogshit, stupid, dangerous class of drugs.

Earlier this year, I was reckoning with the fact that I was still being crushed under the weight of trauma from that relationship, childhood sexualisation and objectification, and misogyny, all of which I had internalised and was too mentally frail to even attempt to process. Not everyone cracks under the pressure of the aforementioned, and I suspect the emotional vulnerability to abuse that is common in people with ADHD/ASD is why GD is so commonly comorbid with being "neurodivergent". But anyway, I wasn't getting any better, and no matter how hard I tried, I just kept relapsing. I wasn't telling people I should have about the fact that I was really, really sick, and because of the drugs I was using, I was able to appear happy and productive in spite of all of it. I felt like I was going to remain on testosterone for the rest of my life, because it helped me dissociate from my sex just enough to help me avoid killing myself, which really was not an ideal situation.

I'd been doing research for months prior on how LSD and other psychedelics like DMT and psilocybin were being used to treat people with PTSD and treatment-resistant depression, and in early 2022 I bought a gel tab of LSD in the shape of blue pyramid, with gold flakes in it. I meditated for awhile, and prayed to whatever god there is to protect me and guide me, and to please, just cure me of my dysphoria. LSD is a lot, as a drug, it was kind of like pushing the big red nuclear button, and I don't have much of an interest in ever doing it again, but I do feel like it saved my life. I was in a safe, sunny bit of nature when I took it, I painted, and journalled, and ate fruit and chocolate on it and, spirituality aside, it allowed me to see the "timeline" of my life, how I got from my childhood to here, and how every traumatic event coalesced into this impenetrable black mass of GD. I stopped dissociating, and I stopped hating my body for what it was, and started seeing it as a tool and a vessel for my mind, that I can use to do what I please with in this life. It didn't need to make me sexual prey, or be a signal of my inherent inferiority, it could just be… functional. I stopped taking drugs (including alcohol) and testosterone after that, and went to therapy.

I'm still seeing a therapist, I don't know how strictly helpful it is, though. I changed more about my psyche in that one day, with how very malleable and downright vulnerable to suggestion that drug makes you, than I think I have in all the months following it seeing a psychotherapist. It's amusing, in a way, I sort of brainwashed myself into loving myself, not being an addict, and working towards not being a mentally ill basketcase; it's no wonder the CIA tried to use it to brainwash people. Therapy is making it easier to speak openly about my emotions, at least. Prior to LSD and prior to therapy, I was stoic, I cried maybe once or twice a year if that, it was very unhealthy, and I felt I couldn't trust anyone around me.

It still crosses my mind, every once in awhile, to try to therapise myself with psychedelics again, but they're pretty intense and it doesn't feel right yet. We'll see.

Because I think every story deserves a bit of a silver ending, I'll finish with this: I have this very good friend of mine, who was abused in the ways that men always seem to be, with how systematically they are emotionally neglected and abused, in the minimum, and we've bonded over being broken people who want to change. He's helped me through these long couple of years, even when he didn't need to; he's very kind, patient, and gentle, he makes me feel safe enough to let my guard down properly for the first time in years, and I try to make an effort to trust him, as a close friend, even though I am also trying my hardest to avoid what happened last time I became rather smitten with a nerdy man. I made a deal with myself to not make any major life changes until one year post-trip, so we'll see how this relationship goes. Maybe I'll go out with him, maybe I'll wing(wo)man for him and help him find a gorgeous wife to settle down with and I'll be an aunt to his kids, but either way, I'm happy he's in my life. I'm pretty lucky to have met him honestly, abused women who detransition have a habit of becoming radical misandrists. Even though I feel like I wasted my 20s on all this shit, I feel like things are going to be okay.

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AMHOLIO said: Then you do the same for troons and 70% of the time they don't get told "You have underlying trauma you're not dealing with/Your logic is flawed and we need to deal with how you picture male and female/ You're an emotionally manipulating piece of shit" like they should, they're given reassurance and shit.

You've hit the nail on the head. This is my issue with the Trans Rights movement, and including it in with the LGBs at all. Transsexuality/Transgenderism is treated as something innate to a person, rather than a very complex and troubling mental illness. I am living proof that even the most traditional case of "Gender Dysphoria" is not something you're born with, even if it can manifest in very early childhood, and every time I try to speak publicly on this matter I am told I wasn't "really trans", that "putting people on cross-sex hormones and cutting them up is totally a good idea, guys!", and appeals are made to my civil libertarian ideals about letting fuckheads do what they will with their own bodies. When you affirm someone who is deeply unwell that they are just like this it does a couple of things:

1) If they are the insecure or self-absorbed sort, it encourages rabid defense of one's "identity", and further closes them off to future help. Nobody can get better from medication or therapy, nobody, unless they actually want it. 2) It pushes vulnerable individuals down the path of hormones and surgery, because everyone is telling them they were just born broken, and they'll be stuck like this forever, to the point of crippling body dysmorphia of the likes of anorexia, and dissociation, unless they undergo dangerous and experimental body modifications, which don't even help in the long-run.

You know why (the 'true GD') trannies, the one's who aren't doing it for a fetish, feel a sense of "relief" when they start developing secondary sex characteristics of the opposite sex, or when they do everything in their power to obliterate the skeletal or soft flesh signs of their natal sex? It's because they're tortured by all this baggage they attach to their sex, from unresolved trauma, and this "relief" is a method of dissociation. Which fades  quick, for as long as a transgender-identifying individual possesses any evidence of their past and their natal sex- name, pronouns, breasts or lack thereof, skeletal structure, they'll be reminded of whatever trauma or conditioning caused this, and they'll eat themselves alive trying to cut it out. The anorexic patients with poor self-esteem, with no feeling of agency and control of the self, so scared of being fat and losing control, or being ugly, being reminded of whatever horrible experience triggered this disorder in the first place, are exactly the same. Hormones and surgery can't cure this, and if people say it did for them, they are lying or still caught up in the temporary relief of cutting out some part of themselves that offends their ill psyche.

This treatment plan helps nobody. Obviously.

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Homofascism said: I’ve got a kid on the way, do you all think this gender hysteria will have died down by the time they hit their teens or am I going to have to put in some serious work to make sure they don’t troon out? If TikTok and Discord are around then they’re being blocked on the network level, what else can I do apart from be a good parent? Where I live I can be put in jail for 10 years if I deny my child gender affirming surgery as a teenager. My own child becoming one of these coombrained sex-perverts is my greatest fear.

If you have a daughter, let her have whatever tomboyish interests she might have, let her wear "boys'" clothes, let her cut her hair and go run outside in the mud, encourage her to pursue her interests in the sciences if that's her thing, a lot of the old fashioned dysphoria seems to come from GNC (tomboys/effeminate boys) children not being allowed to explore their interests fully. Also, keep her safe from sexual predators, pornography, and the dicks who will tell her that her only value as a woman is looking attractive and that she's inherently less valuable or competent, due to her sex.

Same goes for if you have a son, let him play with dolls, paint his nails, and grow his hair, and don't punish him for being emotional or sensitive.

With all the trans people I've spoken to over the years, the common thread for men and women is that the boys tend to be punished severely for being emotionally sensitive ("boys don't cry", and so forth), and liking traditionally "girly" things, and the girls tend to be tomboys or butches who are denied the ability to explore their interests and envy boys for being able to do the same, and are later sexualised and dehumanised too early. Sexual abuse or exposure to a BPD or narcissistic family member will also increase the chances of your kid becoming trans.

Basically, just explain that men and women (and girls and boys) are all just human at the end of the day, and you can have whatever career, interests, and personality you like, even if it doesn't conform to sex stereotypes/gender roles.

BoomerSperg1922 said: You're right to some degree but dress wearing? Nah, that's a line crosser. We have different clothes for different sexes for a reason. If he wants a stuffed bear or she wants an army figurine that's fine though.

My childhood best friend used to wear my princess dresses and fairy wings, and push around a baby doll in a pram, when we were kids. When you're like 4-8 years old it doesn't really matter, you're just playing dress-up. He turned out a regular heterosexual man, for the record.

兄貴 Forevermore said: I heavily disagree with the emotionally sensitive part. My father used to beat* the absolute shit out of me for showing emotion, and when I didn't as a teen, he said I wasn't being emotional enough so I'd die alone, never get a woman and would be a failure in life (and then beat me again). He also made it clear the genders (and the respective expectations) are not equal. I don't remember showing emotion often since I was 6? Still ended up mostly functional in society and not a troon. I'm just some retard who likes gay wrestling videos so you should probably take me with a grain of salt though.

Glad you turned out alright. I wasn't saying that every boy who experiences what I mentioned grows up trans, but the ones who do, tend to have that in common. Like smoking and lung or throat cancer, it's just a risk factor, not a guarantee. I suspect it's something to do with them noticing the unequal treatment of emotional vulnerability between the sexes from a young age, and wanting to transition out of it. The parent in this thread was asking about risk factors for GD, and I was giving them the experience that I've gained over these years.

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Hepativore said: As many of us here have had experiences with people who were clearly mentally ill which lead to them trooning out, would therapy or mental health actually have worked?

No. Psychotherapists, psychiatrists, general physicians, even fucking endocrinologists, who should, of all people, know the serious physical health consequences of turning a person's sex hormones upside-down, are of no help to someone actually suffering from GD. All they do is affirm, affirm, affirm. They tell you- "this is a real disorder, you were born like this, we don't know what causes this, and no other therapies other than gender transition can soothe this mental anguish". It is arguably even worse than the social indoctrination, because they're authority figures who are supposed to have your best interests at heart.

Gender dysphoria (and transsexuality/transgenderism) is a dissociative disorder, a body dysmorphia disorder not unlike OCD and adjacent anxiety disorders, a trauma response, an identity, all rolled into one. It is  notoriously difficult to treat because of the aforementioned; it's difficult to describe the suffering and feeling of being truly trapped and tortured by your own flesh, it's why in the 20th century the patients  were transitioned, because indulging their delusions was the only way to get them half-functional enough to work a job. It works, sometimes, treating the symptoms, for a little while, but it always resurfaces. The sad truth is, transitioning does not cure GD, and, like an anorexic patient on diet pills, they will keep chasing their method of dissociation and control, until they die, never satisfied, never healed, never experiencing a moment's rest in their tortured, sick minds.

Hepativore said: If any of these people who were victims of troonery tried to seek mental help, would they just not be pushed down the troon path even more? The idea of troonery has become so prevalent, that it seems that it would be recommended by most mental health professionals now as a sort of cure-all to anybody who is having doubts about gender conformity and related issues with self-esteem. Maybe I am being paranoid, but just how much has gender ideology infected the mental health profession at this point?

What you suspect is true. Doctors are of no real help to anyone with GD, their instructions are to affirm and to provide access to dangerous hormones and surgeries, and they carry out their orders with efficiency and without question. Anyone you speak to about your troubles with your symptoms of this terrible disorder, or if you even mention you suspect you may be trans, they immediately affirm you. It is hard to make an informed decision when you are mentally impaired from your mental illness and desperate for some peace and quiet in your skull, and when nobody presents any alternative options.

Talk therapy is so rarely effective for such a complex disorder, anyway.

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Hepativore said: With many of these examples that we have witnessed in this thread, the people who bought tickets to the Troon train did not actually have true "gender dysphoria" but other mental disorders that either masqueraded as GD or trooned out of escapism. True GD is extremely rare.

Maybe, maybe not. With how common eating disorders and other self-destructive disorders are, I would not be shocked if the numbers for 'true GD' were higher than anticipated. Bear in mind, I was just a regular woman with a clinical history of OCD and abuse, and plenty of people are abused sexually, physically, emotionally, every minute of everyday. It's a fucked up trauma response and seems to usually be a reaction to internalised sexism/gender roles and homophobia, sexism and homophobia are pretty much just facts of life. The people we've seen without "true GD" seen to be GNC autists, terminally online fetishistic incels/femcels, and grooming victims, but I'm not entirely convinced that someone can not spontaneously develop GD after being exposed to trans messaging. To make an easy comparison, if you have OCD, it's pretty easily to accidentally pick up new anxieties and body dysmorphic traits, think about all of the young women who develop anorexia after comparing themselves to hungry skeleton fashion models, and having friends who are anorexic. Transsexuality has been observed to function like a social contagion, and it might be reasonable to suspect the actual disorder might be catching too. Couple this with the fact that being trans gets entangled with their identity, and it seems like a spreadable disorder that would be hard to treat. Remember, it is impossible to get better if you identify as a victim, and  every trans person I've ever met considers themselves a victim- a victim of circumstance, of mental illness, of transphobia, and so on.

redcent said: We're talking mostly about the usa, who's healthcare system is so bad doctors prescribe marijuana without a second thought (and it baffles me still why over there the doctors don't give a crap, that kind of shit wouldn't fly over here) . And in what would now be a stressed system after a global epidemic? Yeah, it's bound to screw up. It was doomed from the start, add lgbt brow beating into mix, you're screwed.

Yes, I imagine the doctors are doing the best they can, and they're under enormous social pressure from their employers and trans activists to conform with the new treatment protocol, so I can't blame them entirely. After all, if you espouse even the slightest hint of being gender critical, you can be fired and have your name blacklisted from every employer. Still, it is frustrating having dangerous body modifications being used as first-line treatment for people arguably too mentally ill to even consent to such drugs and procedures.

redcent said: Then what would be?

There may very well be a third option out there, who knows?

I can speak on this, if you want. Just to establish some credibility, in case you haven't picked up on what I've been putting down, or read my past posts in this thread, I am a woman who formerly had clinically-significant symptoms of GD for many, many years, and later detransitioned when I realised the drugs weren't helping, that the side-effects were too dangerous, and that, carrying on like this, I would never,  ever be happy. The mental disorder never quiets, not even when you try to dissociate from it with hormones, drugs, and alcohol.

I got most of these strategies from researching treatments for other anxiety disorders (BDD and the often comorbid anorexia/bulimia, and standard OCD), traumatic disorders (such as PTSD), and dissociation/derealisation disorders. Additional potential strategies could probably be found by reading literature about the previously mentioned. The main issue is it takes a lot of courage to face your past traumas, and you have to actually  want to change, most people with GD are too fucked in the head to try. It's the nature of the beast, honestly.

Firstly, I treated it like OCD. I removed the term "gender dysphoria" from my vocabulary, as this only reinforces and feeds the anxiety, and I just tried to analyse  what I was feeling, why the sight of my own body would trouble me so. I would sit with myself and try to think back to the very first time I'd ever felt this way, what triggered this anxiety in me. For example, in the case of my breasts and hips, it was due to be sexualised at around the age of 10 by vile old men, and as an autistic girl, my reaction was to see the offending anatomy as the reasoning for my exposure to objectification and sexism, and to loathe it and desire to remove it. Every other exposure to sexist and homophobic behaviour served to reinforce this belief in me, before I even consciously realised it. After figuring out what events caused a certain aspect of GD, one could try to reassure themselves that they're safe, they're an adult who doesn't have to dignify sexism and homophobia with a response, and attempt to integrate the traumatic experiences and move past them. When GD thoughts would emerge, I would observe them, but not indulge them, because it can trigger an anxious spiral into a mental health episode. All of this is easier said than done, of course, and I seriously struggled with the final step. It is hard to change the profoundly mentally ill.

I treated it like a dissociative disorder, spending time with myself in nature, taking stock of my surroundings, the sky, the wind, the grass, the birds, my own breathing, and finding myself to be a part of all of it. This helped a little. I did focus-consuming exercise in the form of stand-up paddleboarding and weightlifting, in an attempt to force myself to see my body as only a useful tool that I feel deeply connected with, rather than a sex object and evidence of my inferiority, I tried to ignore every terrible lie people have told me about my body and my sex. This gave me moderate success, but the GD still lurked and resurfaced frequently.

During this time, I meditated frequently, to try to calm my anxieties. It helped only a little with the GD.

I'd done research on how psychedelics were being used to treat traumatic disorders that refused to budge, especially in victims of sexual abuse and war veterans. Your intentions, setting, and actions on these substances are critical, and I really do hesitate to recommend them to anybody. For better or for worse, a substance such as LSD makes your psyche incredibly malleable, so you could use it to radically alter your way of thinking and move past the trauma that is causing the GD, abandon the identity, or accidentally give yourself new trauma by having a bad trip. I've known trans people who have taken literally hundreds of doses of LSD and never changed, because the drug is what you make of it. In my case, I meditated, prayed to whatever deity is out there for guidance and safety, begged it to help me finally feel comfortable in my body and no longer have GD, and spent the day painting in nature processing my trauma. I really think my past efforts to find the causes of my GD, redefine my body's purpose and dismiss my experiences with homophobia and sexism as the opinions of assholes, and just observe my anxious thoughts without chasing after them, helped significantly. On this substance, I was able to see every past event that lead to my current situation, and I was able to move past the vast majority of them. I think about it like psychotherapy as we all hoped it would be, since the substance allowed me to take stock of all of my past bad experiences without fear, understand them, and put them away.

I do not believe I would have recovered without being able to radically alter my psyche with LSD, because of how complex and deeply-rooted GD is. As dangerous as it can be if you are not in a good and prepared mental state, if you do not have experience with anxiety de-escalation, if you are not in a safe place physically (a place in nature on a beautiful, sunny Spring day seems best), it seems to be an invaluable tool for someone who can not otherwise recover from a traumatic mental disorder. I would rather take a drug once that actually helps, rather than take hormones for the rest of my life, anyway. My best advice to anyone would be to treat the "you" that will be on LSD like a very young and fragile child, have access to paints and drawing implements, fresh fruits and other foods you like, a good, comforting, and calm environment with access to nature, and knowledge in how to calm and comfort a small child. At risk of waxing religious, it really does feel like starting life over again.

TL;DR: If done in the right environment, with care and preparation, and with intentions in mind, psychedelics could present a better treatment option.

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Blogger's break:

I had a similar experience with cannabis.

It relaxed my mind enough that I looked at my experiences without 'getting defensive', without fear.... Just looking at it as a series of cause and effects --- like an engine with running parts.

After one particular smoke sesh, I completely got over my personal desire to pretend I was male in ways that I was not. I obviously still like to 'roleplay' as characters who are male, but they are also human beings as I am. I gave up that unnatural fixation on the gender trait.

I stopped smoking, because come-downs and withdrawals annoy me. I'd rather go with my own endo-cannabinoids, than rely on some exogenous substance to keep me happy. Still, I have a lot to be grateful for.

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redcent said: Things like that though could use some looking into. I'm leery about lsd but what do I know? Options like that and even more options should be available but the world is cucked. Nobody wants to experiment, just deal drugs to kids as some sacrifice to a raindow flag god.

In regards to wanting the options available through legitimate means, you'll be pleased to note that we are in a renaissance of psychedelic research, there's been research on MDMA, psilocybin, LSD, ketamine, and mescaline, among others I'm probably forgetting right now. It's fringe and very experimental right now, but there is reason for optimism. One day, definitely not tomorrow, probably not even a decade from now, we might be using these substances to help people process their trauma and let go of self-destructive, dissociative behaviours, gender transition included. You can, of course, find plenty studies online, but if you'd like something a bit more personable that you can watch on your night in, there's a nice mini-series on Netflix that discusses the history, the effects of the drugs, and potential psychiatric applications. It's really exciting stuff.

You are totally right to be wary of psychedelics though, I definitely have a hard divide in my life and my memory of "before LSD" and "after LSD", and even though it wasn't a negative experience in the slightest, I'm not keen on trying it again any time soon. Everyone's experiences with the drug will be different, of course, but it really changes a person's perspective on things, in a way that's very difficult to fully put into words. I can talk about how it made me able to see my past clearly in a way that wasn't scary or painful, I can talk about how it helped me reconnect with my body, I could rave about how  beautiful it made the natural world seem, with layers of order in the chaos, the beautiful growth patterns in mint leaves, seashells, and the grain of wood, I could talk about how it gave me an unshakeable belief in a higher power, but none of that really captures what it's actually like for a person to take it. All these months later, and it could just be my lifelong depression easing, but colours still seem brighter, more beautiful. It fundamentally alters who you are as a person, and I don't think everyone is ready to experience that. In therapy spaces, with guidance and support, maybe more people could, but I worry for the safety of someone like me just trying it alone, and having a negative "life-altering experience".

redcent said: That, and I'm pissy at the world in general. There's this growing cult and everyone else gets the blame. Feminists get the blame, therefore all women get the blame, never mind who was in feminism for what. Pharmaceutical companies get the blame even if they're busy selling antibiotics. Gps get the blame even if their hands are tied. Churches get the blame for not doing enough even though media's got them by the balls for "intolerance". I'm just sick of it and wish consequences finally go to the people who are to blame: lgbt. Not like violence or anything. I just wish the pride group would learn some shame. This or worse things will go on until they can finally step up and admit they should put up with phobias going their way like the rest of us do.

I hear you. These are troubling times we're living in. On some level, all of the groups mentioned are "to blame". I was a good little feminist once, I believed that TIMs were truly just poor, mentally ill, effeminate gay boys who deserved go be treated with respect and tolerance, I didn't know about the dark underbelly of autogynephilia, and I knew what it was like being GNC and being punished for it, so I supported the Trans Rights cause. Many oldschool radfems saw them for what they were, of course, but not all feminists are innocent of falling for the appealing message of tolerance of unusual individuals. It is understandable for people to be suspicious of pharmaceutical companies, too, everyone remembers what happened in the US with Purdue Pharma and opioids, of course. They are companies who want to make money, at the end of the day. The physicians, some of their actions are understandable, like you said, their hands are tied, but the butchers are evil like none other. One could even blame the unholy trinity of social media, Tumblr, Twitter, and Tiktok, for proliferating it.

The most frustrating of the people pushing this "treatment" are the trans rights activists, as you said, who spout the doctrine- "trans women are women, you are born trans, the only option for GD is transitioning" with such vigor, and shut down any other research into possible treatments, any acknowledgement of the fundamental differences between male and female bodies, any mention of the grooming that goes on in the community, and any mention of the grim realities of hormones and surgeries. The information control is astonishing.

At the end of the day, we have to learn how to just take care of our own, do our best to help the vulnerable, and ignore their antics, except to laugh at them in private. There's not much more we can do, with how powerful of a political presence the TRAs are.

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I want to encourage the reader to nurture your own opinions --- not to take my word or anyone else's word as an ultimatum. This last post could sound 'extreme'. I'm not particularly decided on the matter, but I like her explanation of mentally-ill logic.

Whether or not a particular person is following the logic, that is situational... but it is a form of logic that exists.

So I will include this:

Pee Cola said: Transgenderism has been hijacked by loudmouthed grifters and/or sex pests with its biggest victims being true and honest trans people. Many of whom are aware they're unwell, and just want to deal with it as quietly and discreetly as possible.

This has been my experience as well, being intimately acquainted with the trans movement for many years. It's a sad thing, but the mental illness, if they are indeed not an individual transitioning due to a fetish, that causes you to not recognise your own body and sex, and to feel so crushed by internalised gender roles that transitioning seems to be the  only possible chance at freedom, runs very deep. It's a very elaborate method of escapism, it's why the old guard "true and honest" transsexuals express that they felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders, why they suddenly became a happier and more emotionally available person, and why they react so strongly to having their escapism shattered (misgendering, for example). There is trauma that runs very deep that is crushing, and being reminded that their constructed reality is not actually  true triggers a flooding back of whatever deep-seeded childhood abuse, sexual abuse, or other mental scars, which they try so very hard to keep buried.

Typically, these "true trans" individuals were non-conforming in one area or another from early childhood, maybe they were effeminate boys who were harshly punished for their emotional disposition and interests, or butch girls who were made to believe that they would never be good enough by being their natural selves, and were subjected to corrective punishment by their family or peers, sexual or otherwise. They believed, "if only I had been born a boy/girl, then I could be good enough, then I could do what I wanted without being punished". Even after you leave home physically, a part of you is still that scared kid, internally, and they still believe they can only truly be happy and free as a wo/man. They believe that their childhood nonconformity is evidence of them "really" being a boy/girl.

The mind does odd things to protect itself, and for these individuals, surgery and hormones and clothing, are  less dangerous than emotional vulnerability and tackling these issues. If you suppress this trauma rather than working through it, even at 55, you can still be reliving what was done to you half a century before. You must understand that transitioning is a palliative care to treat the symptoms of the disorder, without addressing the actual patient history that lead to their current mental state. No matter how much they alter their body, they will always carry their gender dysphoria with them, just like people with PTSD will always carry their trauma with them, no matter how far they run with it. Just talk therapy and happy pills can't do much for this kind of mental damage, and they're left feeling like they have no other option other than transitioning or suicide, because it is an omnipresent kind of mental anguish, and I'm inclined to believe that most people with it lack the courage and mental fortitude to address their past and learn to heal themselves.

However, in the same way that those with crippling PTSD have sought relief through psychedelics and healing themselves, I do not believe that transitioning is the only solution, or that getting better is impossible. I pity the transsexuals who still pursue transitioning, their will for escapism runs so deep most won't even consider any other alternative options, they want to believe that they were born trans and that it was an inevitable fate, to change their appearance so radically and to be afflicted with this mental illness. I am of the mind that the only "good" transsexual or transgender person is one who is not trans at all, but is pursuing mental and spiritual wellness and learning to face their demons. Easier said than done, of course, but I did it.

Every other trans person, by existing, propagates transsexuality via social contagion, presenting the idea that escapism is a healthy solution to mental illness, rather than confronting their issues head on. People will do as they will, it is their right, but it is in no way "good".

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Final notes of the blogger:

I found that I was following the pattern described above, even as I denied it. Almost as if denying it was part of the pattern.

I was not raised with strict gender-roles in my family life. I felt that such an experience would 'mark someone as female', and so to even talk about such an experience is to denote oneself as a woman, instead of a man.

Besides... I have read a lot of opinions of women who consider themselves feminists, describing the behaviour of 'toxic males'. They discuss personality traits as if they were inherent in 'male socialization'. They may claim that 'women grow up entirely different'.

I didn't.

I exist as one of these people whom you criticize. This is not entirely something to be proud of... but pretending like the only factor is 'gender' really flattens the issue of humanity.

Girls would talk about their 'growing up female' experiences of oppression, suppression, gender roles. I didn't experience a lot of that. [or perhaps not the same species of it] It was alien. It was like observing a culture on another planet. Not mine.. not me. Some of the constructed gender-roles are completely illogical, anyways... I knew this.

(I did experience gender-stereotyping in 'the world outside my family life'... but I always had a safe place to come back to. -----Now, whether or not I utilized that safe place, that was up to me. I wanted to be tough and self-reliant. So I kept a lot to myself. I see that as part of growing up. We all want to learn to walk on our own feet.)

My alienation came in witnessing other women 'bonding over this' and describing it as an 'essential female experience'. My thought process was much more subconscious than rational. I felt like I was supposed to 'get along with these women', because "they describe themselves as feminists. They say that disagreement with their tenements is rooted in misogyny. They know THE TRUE ESSENCE OF WHAT A WOMAN SHOULD BE! ---- HOW TO BE A PROPER FEMINIST WOMAN! AHA!"

and so to disagree with "how to be a proper feminist woman..."

Well, I just had to learn to speak up for myself, voice my own opinions, ironically...

Funny how that's the same mythology they're telling themselves --- "they're speaking up against The Man.... by bullying other women online".

[semi-imaginary-place]

My initial impression of Maruki's persona Azathoth was that Azathoth did not suit Maruki, the persona was far too sinister for such a kind man even as misguided as he was. So I started thinking about it and the more I thought about it the more odd and out of place it seemed. As noted by others there are several peculiarities with Maruki’s persona: Unlike all other palace rulers, Maruki has a palace and a persona, “Not only can it use its powers from within the real world, it is extremely unstable when used to do so, as seen in its ability to cause memory loss and cognitive dissonance as drawbacks to its powers. It also displays an initiative and sentience somewhat separate from Maruki's” (the megaten wiki). That last part is of particular notability, that Azathoth seems to display a will independent of Maruki’s along with its appearance and Maruki’s strange awakening, makes me speculate that Azathoth‘s manifestation was the result of Nyarlathotep’s meddling.

Maruki’s persona awakening was also unusual in a number of ways. Leading up to his awakening Maruki started hearing Azathoth’s voice and had worsening headaches. For all the other P5 persona users they only heard their personas’ voices during the awakening, not before, implying something else was talking to Maruki or that Azathoth was forming abnormally, and separate from Maruki. For the other awakenings (with some variations) we see the awakening happens because the character resolves to do something, after great pain a mask manifests, the character’s eyes turn yellow, and when that mask is ripped off the persona and metaverse outfit manifest. None of this happens for Maruki, instead the sky turns red, the metaverse starts bleeding into reality because of the Demiurge, and Maruki just turns around and Azathoth is there. For Maruki's persona awakening there is no resolve, no yellow eyes (shadow self merging with the real person), and no mask at this point. Additionally this awakening is happening in reality instead of in the Metaverse (the closer to reality you get in the collective unconscious the harder it is to manifest a persona). Which all supports that it wasn’t Maruki that awakened Azathoth, but something else.

As noted by others many parts of Persona 5 seem reminiscent of or call back to Persona 2. In all 3 games rumors are a recurring motif that play a large part in the game, greatly affecting the main cast, and late in the games rumors/what people believe start replacing reality. Various similarities between the main cast include a party member with complicated feelings of admiration and abandonment by their father who has an older sibling working in the justice system, girls facing simultaneous social ostracization and fetishization for being mixed race, mysterious trickster Jokers, rival characters who are antagonists but also party members, lots of daddy issues.

Unlike most of the other personas in P5 Azathoth is particularly creepy looking containing none of the usually recognizable human features, and instead having a gold cross with human brain and spine entwined in tentacles. Now Futaba’s inhuman personas look like alien spaceships because she feels alienated and separate from other people, but why would good boy and very social Maruki’s persona look like... that? What Azathoth does look like is something wrong, something reminiscent of Nyarlathotep's appearances in the Persona 2 duology. Azathoth’s black tentacles with blue/green accents remind me of Nyarlathotep’s appearances in the Persona 2 games where they also were a mess of black tentacles with blue/green accents. Like Nyarlathotep, Azathoth is also deity out of H. P. Lovecraft‘s Cthulhu Mythos, but not only that, Azathoth is the progenitor of Nyarlathotep making a direct connection between them in the Persona universe.

Now it could be argued that Azathoth’s spoken lines are because of Maruki’s internal conflict but think about what Azathoth says, it is pushing Maruki to make choices that lead to a worse outcome and a distorted world. Along with how strange a persona Azathoth is and all the above connections to Persona 2 and Nyarlathotep, I find Azathoth to be very suspicious. And yet Maruki took Azathoth, merged him with the palace treasure, and in Morgana’s words “evolved” Azathoth into Adam Kadmon. In the transformation animation Azathoth’s tentacles form muscles and organs (mesoderm) around the gold central nervous system and then the whole thing is wrapped in a gold skin. Adam Kadmon follows the trend in ultimate personas where the initial one is a fictional character and the ultimate is an actual mythological figure. So Maruki (despite whatever Azathoth really was) managed to make his persona real when he combined it with his reason for doing everything (the treasure).

[lingshanhermit]

Lingshan Hermit: "Knowledge like 'How many teeth does a crow have in its mouth'"

In the documentary series filmed by National Geographic, there was one about mummies. This documentary began by discussing the discovery of nearly a hundred 7,000-year-old mummies in Chile in 1983, and told the stories of ancient human remains from various civilizations around the world. The documentary mentioned that in the 19th century, Egyptian mummies were excavated in large numbers and exported to Europe. The Europeans at that time ground these mummies into powder to treat all kinds of diseases, believing it to be a panacea with miraculous healing powers. They were so abundant that they were even used as fuel for steam locomotives. National Geographic has many such documentaries. The British are very good at making documentaries, and some of them are indeed very well made, such as The Last Crocodile Dinner, which is one of the best documentaries I've ever seen. It gave me a very intuitive understanding of the animal realm. Watching National Geographic documentaries allows you to understand the different forms of life that exist in different times and spaces, their ways of living and thinking, what they are pondering and doing. If used correctly, these documentaries can broaden your horizons and deepen your understanding of Buddhism's concept of the six realms. However, do not forget the existence of demons, remember we talked about it before? From the very beginning of your practice, demons have been lurking in the dark, waiting for opportunities, looking for your vulnerabilities. They will not miss any chance to strike you down, nor will they let you properly utilize these materials. Therefore, in those documentaries from BBC and National Geographic, there exists much "knowledge that does not need to be known," as Tibetans would say. What would happen if a practitioner spent time learning this "knowledge that does not need to be known"? There has always been a saying in Tibetan society: "Knowledge like 'how many teeth does a crow have in its mouth' is unnecessary to know." In China, the great Zhuangzi also once said: "My life has a limit but knowledge is limitless; if I let my limited life pursue the unlimited, I will be in danger." Both Zhuangzi and the Tibetan sages realized the harm of useless knowledge. They reminded people not to spend time on useless knowledge like "how many teeth a crow has in its mouth." From the perspective of Buddhism, there is a lot of knowledge that is useless to us. If we spend time learning and accumulating this useless knowledge, we are only wasting our limited lives. One could say this is one of the most unnoticeable demonic obstructions, and also one of the most ingenious designs of the Demon King. However, in today's world, if someone dares to say not to learn so much knowledge because some knowledge is useless, they would undoubtedly be mocked by many people.

A person with a lot of useless knowledge naturally has a lot to talk about. He knows the anecdotes about Tolstoy, the love affairs of Pushkin, how the British nobility hunted tigers in India. Possessing these conversation topics allows you to be at ease in social situations, makes you very popular, and lets your ego be extremely satisfied. But if you are a practitioner, then you have fallen into an ingenious trap. The ingenuity of this trap lies in the fact that although you are wasting time, you do not feel like you are wasting time, because you are learning knowledge. How could learning knowledge be a waste of time?

For those practitioners who have not yet attained liberation, they actually do not need to learn useless knowledge like "how many teeth a crow has in its mouth." Our lives are very short, and after deducting time for sleeping, eating, idling, working and chatting, the time you have left for practice is already very limited. Knowing how many teeth a crow has, when the Alaska Mahi spawns, or the peculiar fetishes and bizarre bedroom furniture of Catherine the Great, is useless besides providing conversational material. However, this is the trap that practitioners who regard themselves as cultured are most likely to fall into. Of course, if you are an enlightened sage, that is another matter. Those great bodhisattvas may need to learn some of this kind of knowledge, because they need to communicate with sentient beings, they need to know what sentient beings are interested in. For the convenience of communicating with sentient beings, they need to understand these things. But if you are not such a great bodhisattva, if you are still at the preliminary stage, then you should figure out which knowledge is useful and which is useless. Figure out how much time you have left. Is this time enough for you to learn useful things? By the way, some knowledge is not only useless, but also harmful, because it is wrong. Many people think the more books you read, the better. I strongly disagree with this. Books are not necessarily more useful the more you read. There are many things that look like books but are actually just a stack of handwritten papers bound together. You need to learn true knowledge, knowledge that is truly beneficial to both yourself and others. That's it.

This article was first published on July 25, 2021 on Lingshan Hermit's Sina Weibo, Google Blogger and other self-media. All rights reserved. Infringement will be investigated.

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灵山居士：“乌鸦嘴里有多少颗牙”这样的知识

在国家地理拍摄的纪录片里，有一部是关于木乃伊的。这部纪录片从1983年智利发掘出近百具7000年前的木乃伊谈起，讲述了世界各文明里远古人类骨骸的故事。那部纪录片提到在十九世纪，埃及的木乃伊曾被大量挖掘出来出口到欧洲，这些木乃伊被当时的欧洲人磨成粉，用来治疗各种疾病，欧洲人相信它是万能药，具有神奇的���愈能力。当时它们的数量甚至多到被用来当做蒸汽火车的燃料。国家地理有很多这样的纪录片，英国人很会拍纪录片，他们有些纪录片确实拍的很好，譬如《鳄鱼最后的晚餐》，这是我看过的最好的纪录片之一，它让我对畜生道有了很直观的了解。看国家地理的纪录片能让你了解到那些生活在不同时空里的不同的生命，他们的生活和观念，他们在想什么，在做什么。如果正确运用的话，这些纪录片可以拓展你的视野，可以加深你对佛法对六道的了解。但是，不要忘了魔罗的存在，还记得我们之前说过吗？从你修行伊始，魔罗就在暗处窥伺着你，他在等待机会，在寻找你的漏洞，他不会放过任何一个可能击溃你的机会，他也不会让你顺顺当当正确运用这些东西。所以，在BBC和国家地理那些纪录片里，存在着很多西藏人所说的“不需要了解的知识”。如果一个修行人把时间花在了解“不需要了解的知识”上面，那会如何呢？在西藏社会，一直都有一句话：“乌鸦嘴里有多少颗牙这样的知识是无需了解的。”在汉地，伟大的庄子也曾经说：“我生也有涯，而知也无涯，以有涯随无涯，殆己。”庄子和藏地的圣贤们都看出了无用的知识的危害。他们提醒人们不要把时间花在类似于“乌鸦嘴里有多少颗牙”这样的知识上面。从佛法的角度来说，有很多知识对我们是无用的，如果我们花时间去学习积累这种无用的知识，那只是在浪费我们有限的生命，应该说这是最不容易被察觉的魔障之一，这也是魔王最巧妙的设计之一。但是在当今世界，如果有人胆敢说不要学那么多知识，因为有些知识是无用的，一定会被很多人嘲笑。

一个人拥有很多无用的知识，他就自然会拥有很多谈资，他知道托尔斯泰的逸闻，知道普希金的情事，知道英国贵族在印度如何猎虎，拥有这些谈资会让你在社交场合如鱼得水，会让你大受欢迎，会让你的自我超级满足。但是如果你是一个修行者，那么你已经掉进了一个精巧的陷阱，这个陷阱的精巧之处在于虽然你在浪费时间，但是你不会觉得自己是在浪费时间，因为你是在学习知识。学习知识怎么会是浪费时间？

对于那些尚未解脱的修行者来说，他们其实不需要去学习那些类似“乌鸦嘴里有多少颗牙”这样的无用知识。我们的生命很短暂，除去睡觉吃饭发呆工作闲聊，你能用于修行的时间已经所剩无几。知道乌鸦嘴里有几颗牙知道阿拉斯加的大马哈鱼何时产卵知道叶卡捷琳娜二世的特殊癖好和她卧室里的奇葩家具除了增加你的谈资之外毫无用处。但是这是那些以文化人自居的修行者最容易掉进去的陷阱。当然，如果你是已经获得解脱的圣者那就另当别论了。那些大菩萨们，他们可能会需要去学习一些这样的知识，因为他们需要和众生沟通，他们需要知道众生的兴趣所在。为了和众生沟通的方便，他们需要了解这些。但是如果你不是这样的大菩萨，你还处于初级阶段，那么你应该搞清楚哪些知识是有用的，哪些知识是无用的？搞清楚你还剩下多少时间？这些时间够不够你学习有用的东西？顺便提醒一下，有些知识不但无用，还会有害，因为它是错误的。很多人觉得书读的越多越好，我对此非常不以为然，书不是读的越多越有用，有很多看起来像是书的东西其实只是一沓被装订在一起的手纸。你需要学习的是真正的知识，真正对自他都有益的知识，就是这样。

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[thedarknesssings]

Character Summary: Edarien

Alias/nicknames: The most common to hear is Dare, the preferred shortening of his name. Use Ed at your own risk, he hates it.  Others heard on occasion: Secariot, The Sleeper, My Lord, Boss, Sir.

Gender: Male. He/Him.

Age: 67 years; 32nd Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon (Dec 31st)

Zodiac: Capricorn (Althyk)

Abilities  + talents: Skilled Practitioner of Thaumaturgy and Black Magic.  He has extensively studied the thaumaturgic and void arts, in particular mhachi practice and history, especially interested in their use of voidsent, binding, summoning and banishing them.  

More recently, he’s gone through combat training to acquire the strength and skill to use a scythe in the style of a reaper.  His voidsquirrel, Squee, received a promotion in power to assist him better in battle.  He also has studied the runic ways of the arcanist, although he rarely practices this other than to include some of the knowledge for summoning in with his abyssal and voidal practices.  He never quite got the hang of healing magic.  

The nature of the beast lying slumbering in his soul is an eldritch being of the Abyss and lends Edarien peculiar talents.  Most of his darker magic is laced with the cold damp of the Abyss and feels disconcerting to others when he casts.  

Edarien is an exceptional knitter and has a plethora of knowledge on wine making, spelunking, footwear (read boot fetish), fashion, and moonlights as the main vocalist for a little known rock band.  He’s a good businessman and adept with numbers, having more than tripled the profit and reach of his family’s trade company since his parent’s passing.

Alignment:  lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

Religion: On the surface, the Secariots speak of Nymeia as their patron deity.  However, this is a front to cover the fact they are part of a cult that has roots deep in duskwight history.  Part might be an understatement as Edarien is very much at the forefront of this old religion, his mother having been the former High Priestess.  Old…Eldritch, one might say.  “There are portents in the darkness, their voices sing should you only but listen.”  He’s smart enough to attempt to keep this cult affiliation to himself.  

Sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

Virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

Languages:  Fluent in common, the old Gelmorran dialect, current Gridanian dialect, mhachi, an eldritch tongue, traders’ cant, and thieves’ cant.  He can read and interpret an array of runic languages, especially those related to magic. He can passably speak the current Ishgardian dialect, the dialect used in the Ul’dah area, the I tribe dialect (he employs most of them), and old Sharlayan.  There are bits and pieces he knows from other languages usually related to trade and bargaining in them, such as Thavnairian, sailors’ cant, doman, hingan, and garlean.

Family:  Spider (né Araignee) Secariot (brother) and Xavipere Secariot (brother). Rainimont Griseaux (husband).  He is not aware of any other living family members.

Friends: Edarien’s aloofness makes it hard for him to connect on deeper levels with people.  Quite frankly, he’s bad at peopling.  He considers the people of Priarch as his extended family and would do just about anything needed for any of them.  Some that have become closer to him are Silvain, Inwa, Talia, Rain, Idristan, and Rinalys.  Strangely he clicks pretty well with Urien when -things- don’t get in the way.  He has a bit of a crush on Lyrin’a. 

Sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other (The Fae are confusing, okay!)

Relationship: single / partnered / engaged / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated

Libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent

Build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other

Hair: white / blonde / brunette / red / black (blue-black)

Eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other 

Skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other: Ash grey

Height: 6’8”

Scars:  He has a few from fights and near death experiences littering his body.  The most prominent one is the one that slashes across his face, damaging one of his eyes and making it look paler than the other.  

dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield scythe dagger or bow || summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future

A few songs that remind you of them:

Glitter and Gold - Barns Courtney

You Should See me in a Crown - Billie Eilish

Devil - Two Feet

My Blood - Twenty One Pilots

Tagged by:  @houserosaire​

Not going to tag directly but if you see this and wanna, Tag you’re it!

[eliluminado7]

had my first actual nightmare in years about this 2d multiplayer game making its rounds across my city and worldwide i think. like you couldnt download it they had to give you a physical copy in a CD. it was like, a very very basic mmo with the same plot as iron lung but there was no submarine. you had to swim all the way down to the benthic zone of like, Marianas trench and the game was divided in 230 levels which were all just pixelated JPG backgrounds you could freely access from the beginning and you didnt have to unlock them or anything. and a very peculiar thing about this game was that the groups and the list of people you had to distribute this game to were already decided; they had to tell you in person which server you belonged in. there was one server for each level, so 230 servers in total, but as i said individual players could go to whichever level they wanted and they could only interact with players of their own server.

in order to hide the true evil nature of this game and convince you to play it the person who gifted you a CD had to pretend they were giving you a perfectly normal copy of some random videogame. in my case it was given to me by a catholic priest who doesnt exist that i was supposedly friends with.

so the avatars/playable characters. they were all touhou characters. game had absolutely nothing to do with touhou but the avatars happened to be those; in the style of the sprites from touhoumon. from the more popular characters such as reimu, marisa, sakuya, youmu etc... to tokiko, label girl, jacket girl and rin satsuki; every single 2hu ever created was there, including minor secondary characters or even the pc-98 girls

i chose takane yamashiro as my avatar, Just Because. i thought this game would have had a more innocent atmosphere to it; i thought it would perhaps be some bootleg game where you had to fight against sea creatures or whatever.

As for the gameplay. i randomly began on level 13 which wasnt too deep yet; there were neither enemies nor players in that area and i was completely alone. there were some players in level 1 who presumably wanted to follow the levels in order. NPCs in that area were normal, tiny fish

so i kept on going down in order and the number of players kept on diminishing, as well as the "enemies". eventually shit began to get incredibly fucked and in level 22 i reached a rock or something. now, remember this was all a dream and everything seemed more terrifying than it actually was. upon interacting with that rock i was killed by a shadow force that grabbed my character from behind and i was shown an NES-like cutscene of the evil shadows and i had to shut the game down using task manager. upon restarting it i was prompted to choose a server again and i went back to the area where i left the previous game. i decided i had to leave that area and move on to level 211.

immediately upon entering that area a giant fucking amoeba monster appeared from out of nowhere and wrapped its gelatinous body around my character to her unavoidable death. playing on the background was a really loud high-pitched NES glitch noise in an otherwise silent game. a really crappy sequence was shown of the amoeba turning into a poorly drawn anime girl ripping off my avatars head. ik this sounds like a weird fetish thing but it was literally like that. in my dream i was appalled at the horrors i was witnessing on that screen and i wanted to be done with the game as soon as possible. so upon getting the game over screen i went straight to level 230. the game asked me if i was sure about that which hadnt happened before. i said yes

i was left in the background of the spongebob title screen which i suppose represented the benthic zone. nothing was happening. it was dead silent. but i was sure something godawful was about to happen. i didnt know what but i was sure it would be the worst thing imaginable. the game knew this too and wouldnt let me go back so i shut it down using task manager and then i tried to launch it again

i was greeted with the word "Fuck..." in the super mario 64 font and i was taken back to level 230 but this time i was completely alone. like it was in singleplayer mode. i desperately tried to kill the process with task manager but it took me several attempts until i could close it. from that point on i refused to touch the game again.

fast forward to a scene in a public bathroom (i tend to dream about public bathrooms and showers a lot for some reason) where i spotted the priest guy who was pissing and i inquired to him about the game and he told me the truth: it was cursed by an evil force and he wanted to exorcise it. he had to distribute the game to several people in order to rid himself of it. he didnt tell me what the curse was or how bad it was and if he did i dont remember anything.

fast forward to a communion scene. and i think this was the only instance of the curse i saw. the priest presented a slice of bread and a wine chalice to the assistants who began to chant "HUNGRY! HUNGRY! HUNGRY!" and he was confused as hell. the bread was gone and the wine in the chalice was replaced with actual blood. everyone jumped on the chalice and they began to brutally fight over it; ripping chunks of flesh off each other. The end