#also this is my personified dysphoria

[mrghostrat]

hey happy trans day of visibility. i'll get visible why not

i'm nonbinary, specifically genderfluid. i identify with this label because idk, even though i look back at my childhood and spot signs of dysphoria and gender fuckery, i don't feel like i was ever masquerading as something i wasn't. i'm just different now. and i may be different again in the future. i was a little girl then, and i'm a little bilv now.

i'm AFAB and just passed my 2 year T anniversary. i'm loving it, and just like putting together a pinterest board of hair and fashion styles to figure out how i wanted to present my truest self, starting T to change my voice and body and facial hair was just another step in that. i love how i look now and love all the changes T has brought me.

at this point i plan to remain on T indefinitely, but knowing a friend who took T for four years then stopped because she got to where she wanted to be, i feel safe and comfortable enough to stop if i ever change my mind. this is why visibility is important 💕

i don't plan on having any surgery at this point. i thought about top surgery for a while, but considering my fluidity and how much i've enjoyed tits in the past, i think i want to keep them in case i ever want to focus on them again in the future. this is the only thing i "struggle" with; how much i would like to have a flat flat chest right now, but know i may not want that in future, and surgery is so definite. thankfully i'm happy with binders and am small enough to live in a comfy middle ground.

i'm so grateful for all the trans art in the good omens fandom, especially @chernozemm's explicit illustrations that highlight how fun and sexy tcocks are. i did look into phalloplasties and matoidioplasties once before, but never felt as strongly about it either way, which didn't seem like a good basis for such an intensive surgery. now i'm less ambivalent about my genitals and actively love them

(i also suffered from vaginismus my entire life, until about 2 or 3 years ago when i started engaging with more nsfw content and must have just? exposure therapy'd myself out of it?? it feels like i didn't do anything at all and it just went away on its own, which made me personify my vag a bit, bc i'm so fucking proud of her. now we're finally getting along, i'm taking her to my grave)

keep drawing, keep writing, keep sharing. every little thing you put out there helps people like me love ourselves more, and hearing other trans stories only helps solidify how real and genuine we are for feeling the way we do about ourselves. happy tdov

[randomuser678]

I love how most Batman villains have a genderbend version of them, specially bc as a trans woman I want to read into them being trans

Like, the Ventriloquist's design is of a mild mannered boring looking man who contrasts with his puppet Scarface who's much more rude and greedy, it feels like Scarface is a way for his ventriloquist to express his more rude side while distancing himself from them.

Now on my read where she's a trans woman there would be two layers of repression here, Ventriloquist personified her "masculine" side into the puppet who acts like a stereotypical tough guy, a rude bossy mafia leader, and she became a sexy trophy wife for him, this way she separates herself from the undesirable masculine traits, as well as becoming a love interest to a man who makes all the decisions for her, she only exists to support him, she finally made it to cisnormative and heteronormative ideals of femininity! It comes off as a tragic clinging to idealized femininity and male approval on a way I really relate to.

Clayface also has a really good portrayal of Dysphoria since in the versions I've seen they're an actor who hates their own face and got into a drug that would make their face easy to remold, then it went horribly wrong and now their entire body is moldable, Lady Clayface didn't have to change that general backstory for it to work at all, and the theme of beauty is common on female villains, but tbh I love this one specifically because of the trans read being more obvious, and this is the one case where a character didn't have to change backstories at all for the female version, she can still be a former actor with dysphoria that later gains shapeshifting powers, it's almost a happy ending for her now that she can change her shapes even if it's still tragic.

Calendar girl has a similar theme (Although she's both a version of Calendar man but also The Manikin) where she's a former celebrity who's horrified by her appearance under the mask and is "aging out" of her career, her attacking themed on holidays is both a mockery of her job as a model and needing to keep up with trends and also to show her resentment towards the passage of time, it's a really fun mix of characters and my trans read of her would be similar to Clayface. Also how youth and beauty is valued in society as a whole and older trans people in general are ignored on the mainstream.

And because the comic book world is really hostile towards genderbends (see Oswald from the newest Batman cartoon) a lot of them have instead characters who co-exist with their male counterparts, that was the case for the Ventriolquist since she just took the role from the previous one, but sometimes they do what they did here:

Madame Crow is part of the Victim Syndicate, a group of people who were victims of different villains and now resent Batman for not saving them, their powers are now ironic mirrors to the characters they were victimized by, and on Madame Crow's case, where she was a victim of the fear toxins from the Scarecrow, she made toxins that completely rid a person of any fear or self-preservation. And idk the fact that she wants to create something that gets rid of fears and repression just comes off as queer to me even though it was obviously not intentional, it's just that on a version where she IS the Scarecrow I would love how thematically fitting it all is.

I've seen pieces about how Batman is inherently queer bc super heroes and villains as a whole empower themselves through creating an alternative persona on an over the top camp way that's basically drag.

Some male villains have female sidekicks, Sugar and Spice, Query and Echo, and I guess those are harder to read as female personas of the same character like how I've been doing, but idk, you can rewrite the stories however you like to make these work, maybe twoface is bigender and flips a coin to decide which gender they're going with, that would be on theme. You can do anything ever with these characters.

Also I never understood why ppl were mad about Oswalda, every version of Batman changes backstories around, why is changing a character's gender or whatever completely out of line with that they've already been doing for decades? Anyways I'm trans and this is all.

[whorbidmore]

hey!! this isn't the full fanfic im planning on releasing, but more of a little tester to how easily writing comes to me if that makes sense? i wrote this all in one sitting with zero proof reading so, if there's parts that make no sense/etc., that's why. it started off as another little blurb but then i got a little carried away :3

i wrote this with a pre-top trans masculine reader insert in mind, but kept descriptions relatively neutral since this is more of a focus of a pre-established relationship through the emotional lens of Leon. how he views his partner, what he does to comfort them, etc. though i do attempt to illustrate how oppressive gender dysphoria can be at points. of course not all trans people experience dysphoria, and especially not to the degree I've written, and this should be in no way used as a cover-all essay on trans masculine identity. though im drawing from the experience of some of my most dysphoric thoughts.

also i accidentally posted this a day early so, just know this piece of crap was finished 10/04/24 (today, as of official posting)

Leon Kennedy × Trans Masculine!Reader

content warnings: discussions of gender dysphoria, internalized transmisogyny experienced through an implied trans masculine lens, hurt/comfort (?), fluff, smut, Leon being a sweetheart, not proof read or edited, im actually just shitting this out to satiate the need to write. 18+ content, minors/ageless blogs/TERF/RADFEM's dni.

leon would always be there for his partner when they're feeling dysphoric. he's not the most experienced wordsmith when it comes to assuring them in this way, but reassurance through action can be just as comforting.

on those days where simply telling his partner that he sees them as the person they are, — that behind their body, there's no doubt in his mind that his partner is who they say, and who they feel they are, — isn't enough, he offers solace through action. most often, that means scooping his partner into his arms and holding them, letting them burrow against him, seeking the warmth of his presence away from the harsh glare of gender dysphoria. other times, leon takes matters into his own hands.

times where the level of their dysphoria is all encompassing, looming over them with an oppressive shadowy aura of visceral discomfort, extending beyond their minds view of their body. when dysphoria halts them from completing daily tasks they'd otherwise had no problem in doing. the odd occasion where, if the issue were to be personified, it'd take the form of a sexist, bitter and bigoted old man, waving his cane over their head and grumbling about how 'real men don't do these things' or 'if you were a real man, you wouldn't do this', 'act like this', 'think like this', be like this. eyes darkened and expression hollow, a loose, dissociated grip of the kitchen brush as dysphoria pecks away at their brain like a woodpecker of internalized transmisogyny, Leon steps up to help.

snaking his arms around his partners waist, a tender kiss against their temple as he loosely guides their hands with his own as he washes the dishes. his partner never doubted his own masculinity throughout their relationship, he knows that won't change watching him do the archaically 'female job' of washing dishes.

a display of emphasis, quietly reminding his partner that it's not the actions that make the man. it's the connection between yourself and the identifier of the title. showing that no amount of dish soap, pink button up shirts or anything frilly, prissy or societally deemed 'girly thing's would take away the man Leon knows he is.

Or the person he knows his partner is.

those small, wordless conformations to ground his partners mind back to the reality of those dysphoric thoughts, being just that. thoughts. thoughts that have no place in the world around them. thoughts of a far outdated view of what is manly and what isn't. outdated views that barely apply to cisgender men, let alone people like his partner.

other times leon let's his actions speak the comfort his words try to convey, is when he takes the time to appreciate his partners body.

it's well acknowledged that leon isn't simply the type to be in love, but more openly infatuated with his partner, especially behind closed doors. he wakes up early every morning just to admire his partners sleeping face, the beat of his heart harmonizing a rhythm of raw affection, even as his partner snores with an open, drooling mouth. their face is nothing less than the image of perfection in his mind. every lash on their eyes and healing acne scar, only captivate him further into the safety of their presence. as he does for them. not only does leon worship who his partner is as a human being, he would never withhold himself from worshipping the alter of their form. mind, body and spirit, in leons mind his partner deserves to be worshiped. and when it gets in their head that their mind and soul had been sent down to the incorrect vessel; — a mix up in their otherworldly journey, — how could he ever ignore that?

barely a second thought in his mind, leon would be laying kiss upon heated kiss to his partners lips, fingers tilting their chin to meet him at just the right angle. always beginning so tenderly, words whispered breathlessly as he showers them in praise. voice low against their lips, occasional mumbles of, "...So good...", "...God, you're amazing...", tied together with the prayer of their name, profanities hissed between Leon's teeth.

he tries his best to selfless, especially with his partner, but when he could be sent away from them for weeks at a time, how could he refuse to indulge.

his hands roam along every inch of his partners body, memorizing every dip, curve, swell and crevice. a man who craves every detail of their being. hands so familiar with weaponry and gore, now splayed across the dip in his partners waist, their bodies pressed close together, huffs of adoration caressing the skin of their neck as the muscles in their stomach tense.

it doesn't matter size or shape of his partners chest, whether untouched by the surgical precision of the scalpel or flattened, molded to the shape of their very essence, scars like the thorns of a rose. his rose; bold and beautiful, standing tall and proud against the shroud of spikes and vines that caged them in others perceptions. it doesn't matter the presentation of the flesh when attached to the person he'd give his life for. just as much a man when building Ikea furniture, as they are sitting on the couch in a blanket.

as manly as ever dripping with perspiration returning home from a walk, as they are with Leon's face between their legs. tongue savoring the taste as he tunes into every little motion and noise being offered from his partners lips, a deep chuckle bubbling in his throat at their response to his own lips wrapping around their sensitive clit. god, he could stay like this for the rest of his life. fingers in his hair as he feasts on the love of his partners body, groaning in pleasure with every pulse of their pussy beckoning his tongue further.

keying in to every signal, he only loses himself further the closed his partner is to orgasm, to invested in the task at hand to give a shit about his aching jaw. mumbling the tiniest phrases of affirmation as he hoists their thighs over his shoulder, so carried away their body ends up folded against itself atop their mattress. telling them how fucking gorgeous they are, especially with their face all scrunched up, breaths laboured as they cry out in ecstasy.

resting his head against their inner thigh, hand stroking the dull ache in his jaw, he'd stay in that same spot until his partner catches their breath, nothing short of admiration in his gaze as he stares past the mess he'd made of them.

[shardssystem]

WIP Ask Game

We got tagged in an ask game! Joy! Thanks for the tag, @brasideios! Always love having a chance to ramble, but feels weird to do it unprompted.

At the moment, I’m caught in a three-way dance, to use the wrestling parlance. In one corner: the long-awaited (I hope!) 5th chapter of A Planeswalker Story, the MTG/OC fanfic that’s been nearly 10 years in the creation (oof) In another corner: part 8 of Holiday In Eorzea, our MTG/OC/FFXIV crossover… thing. Look, it’s a bit tricky to describe. 😅

And in the third corner: that dastardly heel tag team of Mental Health & Writer’s Block. (boo, hiss).

But despite that, I still do my best in writing whenever I get the chance.

So first, we have A Tale Of Two In The City, which is the next part of APS. In the last chapter, we follow Liya’s travel to the plane of Ravnica, as she escapes imprisonment on Innistrad. This rewinds time a bit to introduce a couple of important characters, and tell some events from their point of view. Here’s a snippet of the latest part written:

“Boy, girl, whatever! It’s all made up anyway. You want to be a boy? Bam! Magic; you’re a boy now, it’s as easy as that.” He waggled his fingers in a dramatic flourish.

Zoe looked at herself; nothing had changed. She was still a girl.

“Nothing happened?”

“Exactly!”

It’s a careful line to walk, because it shows a character grappling with dysphoria and what it means to be transgender as they age. Especially because it’s a transmasc narrative, and it’s not an experience I share, so I’m trying my best to be faithful and respectful. Hopefully it’s a good piece!

Next, we have Holiday. Given that it’s a retelling of the main storyline (MSQ) of the game, it’s easier to source the material. The challenge is to personify a typically mute/blank slate player character in a way that still works with the existing work. Another issue is that although a different story, it’s still tied into the main APS “canon”. So there’s chapters and chapters of character development that lives only in my head, but is supposed to be already known at the point shown. The next chapter tentatively has the title of Back In The Saddle, and continues with Liya recovering from a shattered ankle from a fight to the death. Here’s a piece from that:

Try as I might, my musical ability was lacking, so trying to memorise one particular song I had fallen in love with, a sad flute piece named "My Home, Sweet Home" was a challenge by itself. I had also discovered a fictional tale within the collection entitled "Refraction", where a man has to face up to different versions of himself to solve some kind of mystery; I hadn't finished it yet. And, true enough, T'sutu's promotion of the chocobo races was indeed as exciting as her claim. A little overwhelming to the senses, but exciting nonetheless. Just before a midday meal was delivered, I watched a Miqo'te woman by the name of Rin Chalko bully her way to victory with a chocobo as black as night named Optimal Shield. Her tactics were normally something I would be against, but for some reason I felt myself cheering her on.

References are fun to sneak in, but it’s not something you can do too often without it being disruptive. Still, managing 3 in a paragraph is pretty good!

But that’s what I’ve got in the tank at the moment, thanks for following along! You can follow the written works on AO3, or here on Tumblr. And to finish off, I’ll tag (with no pressure to participate!) @writer-raven, @kosmosxipo, @cyndakip, and @leafdrake-haven! Yay, games!

[runthepockets]

I feel like talking about music. I'm gonna post 7 albums that describe me. Shit that shaped my worldview, reflects my aesthetics, and all that other stuff. Puttin it under read more so no one's dash gets clogged.

ZUU - DENZEL CURRY.

I'm a huge fan of southern Hip Hop. It's dense and eclectic and always so full of life and culture, everything from Andre 3000's thick Atlanta twang on Intl Players Anthem to DJ Paul's production on any given Three 6 Mafia project, it's just my shit. It all speaks to the state of living in the south and has made so much impact on the broader state of Hip Hop. especially in the modern day.

This album feels....so personal. Like coming back home and meeting up with an old friend and realizing you both still know that secret handshake you made up in middle school, or watching the emotional climax of a coming of age movie. I was as wild as I was loving in my youth, so tracks like Ricky and Speedboat and Shake 88 which reference everything from getting in fights in your high school Dickies and football hoodies to escaping hood life to spitting bars about neighborhood bad bitches. It just speaks to me and my experiences, It's always good to know there are other black dudes out there writing love letters and cautionary tales about the violent environments and close knit & loving cultures that surrounded them in their youths spent below the bible belt. I wish I'd had this album when I was 17.

2. VIVA LA COBRA - COBRA STARSHIP

I've been listening to Cobra Starship since I was about 15, and this album has never left my all time greats. It's so fucking fun, like an 18 year old stole his dad's credit card and drove up with his friends to hang in NYC with fake IDs. The bragging, slightly macho, slightly cynical, fun but not too stupid persona Gabe Saporta personifies on this album speaks to me so deeply and shaped me into the man I am today. He has the cynicism and self aware, sarcastic edge that only a former Punk making dance music could have.

3. THREE DAYS GRACE - THREE DAYS GRACE.

Around the age of 13 I was carrying a massive weight; some of it was dysphoria, some of it was internalized racism, some of it was just plain average shit that comes with the territory of being a child under capitalist patriarchy. I felt lost and misunderstood, until I found this album completely by accident. Tracks like Home and Drown spoke to my experiences with abuse and the intense bouts of willpower and self sufficiency that I knew I was capable of but didn't have the courage to act on. I'd put these songs on in my room and drift away, all the pressures my parents and friends and school had put on me just washing away. It was loud and raw and angry and fueled the newfound passion and teen rebellion that would make up the majority of my teens and shape my worldview in adulthood.

4. RUN THE JEWELS 2 - RUN THE JEWELS

The aggressive machismo on this album and the general fuckboy-isms of it all speak to me. Bars like "you want a whore in a white dress, I want a wife with a thong" and verses like "I got that dick in her mouth all day" are just standouts. Just laying everything out, speaking your mind, holding back no punches. The album also weaves in tracks about police brutality, class warfare, and the harsh reality of being pushed to do things you aren't proud of to make ends meet (Killer Mike has a bar about having to sell cocaine to a pregnant woman, and another about his wife being shot by police in front of his son.) I honestly can't see who wouldn't be changed after listening to this, or at least feel seen. It's a no skip banger from beginning to end, if you really wanna understand the essence of Jared, this is it.

5. SOUL GLO - DIASPORA PROBLEMS

Growing up a black kid who liked rock music was extremely taboo, back in the day. It earned you some level of alienation in both black and white dominated spaces. I'd always felt in between worlds; The gritty realism of Hip Hop spoke to me just as the maniacal, commanding essence of Rock and Metal did, and it seemed neither party wanted much to do with me.

Imagine my excitement in 2022 when I find out about Soul Glo, an all black Punk band from my town, who frequently scream their hearts out about everything from police brutality to fake friends to feeling ostracization and tokenization as a black Punk band, with absurd humor and such intense display of vulnerability unlike anything I'd seen before. Finally, I thought, a band that understands me. A band for guys like me.

6. MOBB DEEP - THE INFAMOUS

I got way too high on acid while solo tripping last year and spent a lot of that trip freaking the fuck out. Doom Metal was too much, looking in the mirror was too much, watching tv was too much, everything was just too fucking much.

Except for this record.

This record saved my life and got me into Rap music again. I've cried to it as many times as I've lifted and shaken my ass to it. Though I've never been involved in the street life-- especially not to the degree that Havoc and Prodigy lay claim to-- I grew up privy to it. My environment was incredibly violent. A lot of moralizing by mass media and white people of all backgrounds was lost on me; my father sold drugs to keep me fed and to put Christmas presents under the table, and he'd brought a couple of sex workers into the mix as well (all of whom were incredibly kind women), I felt if anything or anyone was failing, it was the justice system that put guys in these positions.

This album is fucking ruthless. The Jazz and Boom Bap elements add depth to it that I can't really say any other Jazz or Boom Bap rap album has done the same way since. It's also incredibly vulnerable at times. These guys have more nuance and versatility than any other rapper of their time, and it speaks to me as a black dude of working background and experience.

7. THE SLIM SHADY LP - EMINEM

Anyone who's followed me for more than a day knows how much I love Eminem. I think he's witty, charming, funny, and a really down to Earth dude, which probably sounds insane considering the amount of violence and bigotry he spews on the mic at any given time.

This album practically shaped my life and the way I internalize other people's opinions of me. As a kid, I grew up with a pretty abusive mom, and as such always felt the need to apologize or shrink in on myself just for existing. I hadn't really learned how to nurture the spirit until Eminem. The rage, the insanity, and the violence, was all a sheen for an album that truly told a story of how to power through life only trusting yourself and a few other insane, close friends, but most importantly to not let anything get you down and to simply not give a fuck (and to tell anyone who insists otherwise to get on their knees and suck it). The guy spoke real shit and had the credentials to prove it, he knew what he was about and made his dreams a reality, and that was awesome to me.

[mosraev]

Lyrics through the decade 10/11

I've decided to collect all the songs I've made through the last decade and share my favourite snippets with you guys. The pictures for the backgrounds will (as much as possible) be pictures I've taken the same year as the lyrics were written. The full lyrics may or may not be made official someday.

Part 10; 2022

Last year was probably my most productive year in that almost all the songs I made I finished and have performed for others. It was also a year full of introspection and changes. The themes is still therapeutic yet outside of gender dysphoria I also explore themes like loneliness, existential dread and loss.

More info under the line

Stay creative, my fellow foxes 🦊💚

Song 1 (pic1); Himlen Falder Ned

Starting out strong with my second ever current affairs/politics/war song this time about Ukraine. It hadn't been a day after learning about the first attack on Ukraine that I felt moved enough to make a song about it.

Featured lyric:

Original: Den due som du skød i nat, det var den hvide due af fred.

Hvad var det ved dens sang der fyldte dit hjerte med had?

Translated to English: The dove you shot tonight is the white dove of peace.

What was it with its song that filled your heart with hatred?

Song2 (pic2); Adulthood

Changes gears completely this is a song I wrote in May about feeling quite bad at being an adult - so of course it is played on a ukulele as a cherry on top. Jokes aside this silly little song was actually quite therapeutic as well letting me know it is okay to be a mess of a human.

Featured lyric:

How can I call myself an adult?

I'm barely holding on.

Song3 (pic3); Golden

This song was the first I wrote on my new guitar that has a golden colour so I knew it would be a song called Golden. What I didn't know at the time was how full of existential dread the lyrics would be. It is pretty much a song about feeling left behind by your peers after being told your whole life you are the golden/gifted child. It is one of the few songs featured here I actually haven't payed for others yet.

Featured lyric:

In the light that's our world burning we look golden now.

Song4 (pic 4); I Am Here

In June I wrote this song about my experience with gender. I'd challenged myself to only use four or less words for the chorus. I really like the nerve this song ended up having so it is probably the one song about my gender experience I feel best fit (so far).

Featured lyric:

((Extended)) I'm a liar, impostor, the list goes on.

I failed to be a daughter, and I'll fail to be a son.

Song5 (pic5); Ensomhedens Ven

My summer camp song this year - it was created through another challenge where I was challenged to personify a concept so I chose loneliness and gave them an arch from seeking a friend, finding one and changing into another being (loneliness becomes immersion). Silly on the surface yet I hope a bit deep when you look into it.

Featured lyric:

Original: Ensomhed hedder nu fordybelsestid - tid til at finde sig selv.

Translated to English: Loneliness is now called immersion - time to find yourself.

Song6 (pic6); What's In A Name?

After summer camp I was visiting my mother's house staying in a room filled with old stuff of mine with my deadname on it so I wrote this song as a song to come to terms with my experience and my parents' experience of my name change. Another song I haven't played for people yet.

Featured lyric: You put your memories into a six-letter frame

that no longer describes me, so remind me:

What's in a name?

Song7 (pic7); Don't Call Me She

This song was born after an unfortunate experience at summer camp when my choir leader gave me strong dysphoria pretty much calling me a woman to my face. I ran to the bathroom crying and wrote the first verse. The rest of the song was finished a month later, and it is a song about how words can hurt as a trans person. You can listen to the song here.

Featured lyric: These words hurt like tiny knives programmed to act on voice cue.

Song8 (pic8); Little Red Bird

This song is about the loss of losing my grandmother. She died around the time the season 3 premiere of the Owl House was airing so my mind blended her loss and (spoilers) Flapjack's together. I later learned that cardinals are said to be souls of deceased loved ones visiting you so it fit. Also my grandmother wanted me to promise not to get a tattoo yet my first tattoo became a tribute to her; a Flapjack on my arm.

Featured lyric: I have to break a promise, I never fully made.

Because I see you in the little red bird, and I don't want to forget you.

[la-principessa-nuova]

I am getting very confused about my own egg-cracking timeline.

Trans Ramblings

In 2015 I first started to question when (to keep it short) something I was reading lead to me basically thinking, “Why do people feel that they relate to characters of their own gender more? I don’t. In fact I feel like I relate more to female characters. I wonder if they’re just inherently more relatable. That or I’m trans, lol. Ha ha… ha? Wait… Could I be?”

Then I had a brief phase (a couple weeks to a month maybe) of deep introspection and exploring the concept of identifying internally as a woman. Then somehow over time it faded into the background and somehow I just let it sit unresolved.

Then I’m kind of blurry on the next 8 years. I know that from time to time when I was alone with my thoughts, I would think about it, and I always landed on, “Well I’m definitely not cis, but I’m fine being a guy, so it’s probably best to not rock the boat and just tell myself I’m probably nonbinary and keep using he/him and presenting the same.”

But I also know that every time I played a video game and picked/created a girl character (as I always had), after that realization, I was aware what I was doing. I kept saying it was for cis reasons if someone asked, but I was fully aware this was my escape to be who I wanted to be, and knew that I was engaging with sides of the game that were about experiencing femininity through the character (e.g. focusing on the character’s outfits heavily since I couldn’t dress fem IRL). I stressed over what to name each character, making sure the name felt right on me.

But I think it was a slow realization from initially feeling inside that it might be for trans reasons, but suppressing that thought, to the last few years practically giggling with glee every time my in-game outfit looked cute and felt like me.

And then in the last few years, I know I still kept landing on probably being nonbinary every time I went over it again, but shifting more and more fem each time, but I remember having all but accepted it. And I thought that for the past year or so it was just a few well intentioned but misleading videos I saw that had temporarily convinced me I couldn’t be a trans woman.

But then last night I was looking at my old notes (basically diary entries) and found stuff where I was very intentionally applying masculine words to myself in a completely private, personal context. I even had one where I was personifying the different moods I get into, and they were all masculine names. I remember knowing at the time that they were basically arbitrary and barely fit, but I can’t even get myself into a headspace now to understand how I would have picked those names, and I feel offended by myself to have these masculine names applied to me. The only thing is that I don’t remember if maybe I intentionally misgendered myself with that one because I was worried if someone (literally who though?) looked through my phone and saw fem names, but then I could have just used descriptive words and not names, so IDK.

But it’s like there was this weird veil where 1% of the time, I was fully aware I was probably trans for the past 8 years, and by the time I fully accepted it in December it had grown to like 2%, but the other 98-99% of the time, I didn’t just pretend not be trans, I completely forgot and went about saying I was male.

Then I finally finished processing the thought, and it went from a rare thing I think about sometimes to all-encompassing. Part of it for sure is that I’ve recognized the dysphoria for what it is. Now when I see myself in the mirror and feel bad, I realize it’s my gender presentation, not my weight that makes me feel that way. When I look in the mirror and it feels like the person in the mirror isn’t me, I realize it’s because the person in the mirror looks male, not because I must be dehydrated or something. When I become aware of my genitals being in the way, I realize it’s because they’re the wrong ones. When I am called a man or he/him and it feels wrong, I realize it’s because I should be called she/her, not because I’m just not comfortable with adult words being applied to me yet.

All of these things are constant reminders that I’m trans, and things that made me feel uncomfortable in a way I couldn’t place and I moved on from are now things I have a name for and can identify, so of course now I see the connection and have them on my mind.

But I’m still confused how I thought of it so little and made so little process in processing these thoughts in 8 years. And it leaves me confused on when exactly egg cracked. Was it in 2015 when I said, “Wait… am I trans?” And decided the answer was probably yes but I wasn’t going to do anything about it? Or was it in 2023 when I became confident in my answer and realized how much dysphoria I was actually experiencing?

[nimdreams]

I will answer these how I see them, this doesn't mean my thoughts are the truth, of course.

1. does archetropy fall under the otherkin umbrella? or is it just alterhumanity?

I see it as a type of alterhumanity and not as otherkin or a kintype.

2. what is the difference between archetropes and conceptkin? why is, for example, being the concept of death conceptkin, but being the character trope "Death" archetrope?

This is completely up to the person's own interpretation and which label they feel fits their experience. I am a dreamer archetrope and tried dreams on as concept, but I am the one experiencing dreams, I am not all dreams encompass. In this case, maybe a death conceptkin experiences all stages of death and decay whereas death the archetrope might identify as the personified image people have created of Death. The one who comes to lead spirits on.

3. is there a difference between being an archetrope and being OCkin (or even being fictionkin)? if you are, for example, an archetrope of "the Knight" does that mean youre a specific knight?

This probably also differs per person. To me, I make a difference between someone's class and someone's archetrope. I have a constel of a druid, where I experience shapeshifting, a connection to nature and dreams, but there is no layer of what the druid represents. Adaptability, true neutral, a guardian of nature. I myself actually identify as both the dreamer archetrope and the Dreamer as an oneiric kintype, so do consider myself a specific dreamer, but that is not a necessary part of archetropy.

4. are archetropes only for character tropes? like can you just be the trope of "Time Loop" or do you have to be a character that is trapped in a time loop? and if you can, what would be the difference to just being time loop kin?

I am unsure of this question so I don't know how to answer it. .

5. is being an archetrope connected to past lives? can you have memories of being your archetrope type? can you have shifts (mental or otherwise)?

For me it isn't. This is kinda the distinction between someone's class and archetrope again for me. If you identify as a person with a certain class, you can have noemata about that and memories if it was a past life. I am not sure about shifts. You could have shifts of that kintype that had that class, but their class isn't a physical or mental attribute. I'd expect someone to feel close to that class more generally, but of course anything is possible if someone experiences it. For archetropy, I personally do not get shifts like from a kintype or constel. My dreamer archetrope is something I embody, something I strive to be, something I actively feed into. I also am trying on the archetrope of sleepyhead, but that is more something I am and am trying to accept about myself instead of strive to be. It is a comfort to see sleepyhead characters be accepted and have friends, because it makes me feel like I could reach that. I don't have shifts where I am a sleepyhead, instead I just am a naturally tired and also chronically fatigued person. Hope this makes sense.

6. how does being an archetrope affect you on your daily life? do you do things that make you euphoric as your type? can you have dysphoria for not acting like your type?

This is a hard question for me, as it is something I haven't put much thought in yet. I guess, my aesthetic matches my archetropes and that makes me happy. My oneiric nonhuman identity matches with being the dreamer. There is euphoria in things lining up with my archetrope and thus giving me this sense of being right about it. And then I also strive to appreciate imagination in the world and foster it in others. So I guess, it is little things how my archetropes affect me in daily life. I have it a lot less with sleepyhead which is why I am uncertain of labeling it, but that could be because I still need to accept this more about myself so I can then share it with the world. I guess, I do freely nap whenever I need to and encourage others to take as much rest as they need. Trying to take stigma out of it. Which is a way I could embody the sleepyhead archetrope. I haven't felt dysphoria for my archetropes, though I'm sure it is possible if you actively deny and suppress such a part of yourself. I wouldn't call it "not acting like your type" though but rather, not behaving in accordance with your trope. Like as a healer or paladin archetrope, not try to help people but actively go against that. That must feel awful.

I had fun answering these, hope it helps someone!

ive been reading about archetropes lately, mainly because its an interesting identity and also because im questioning being one myself. so, i have some questions for the community if thats okay!

does archetropy fall under the otherkin umbrella? or is it just alterhumanity?

what is the difference between archetropes and conceptkin? why is, for example, being the concept of death conceptkin, but being the character trope "Death" archetrope?

is there a difference between being an archetrope and being OCkin (or even being fictionkin)? if you are, for example, an archetrope of "the Knight" does that mean youre a specific knight? (i only ask this because ive seen one being in the archetrope tags making a moodboard of their life as a knight)

are archetropes only for character tropes? like can you just be the trope of "Time Loop" or do you have to be a character that is trapped in a time loop? and if you can, what would be the difference to just being time loop kin?

is being an archetrope connected to past lives? can you have memories of being your archetrope type? can you have shifts (mental or otherwise)?

how does being an archetrope affect you on your daily life? do you do things that make you euphoric as your type? can you have dysphoria for not acting like your type?

you dont have to answer to all these to respond! if you dont know or dont want to answer a question feel free to skip it /gen. thank you!

[missbaphomet]

How do you feel about Dasha Aibo calling Chris Chan "she" and Ezra Miller "they"?

Ehhhhh personal choice.

There are actually many ethical questions when it comes to that kind of stuff. For me personally, Chris Chan, Ezra Miller (whoever the fuck that is), and Johnathan Yaniv are "he". But it is awfully easy to turn that into "its ok to misgender bad people."

My stance is this:

Chris transitioned not because he had gender dysphoria, but because he wanted lesbians to date him. He saw no doctor, was prescribed no hormones, and purchased shady estrogen creams to achieve his... results.

I don't know who Ezra Miller is, but as someone who is skeptical of nonbinary identities and pretty sure that he isn't transitioning, he would be a man.

Yaniv is a case. He has done some form of transition as far as I am aware, but he also has harassed businesses for not waxing his genitals. I believe all the cases filed were also dismissed because he's a racist if I remember correctly. There was also the whole swim party thing... it is my personal belief that Yaniv is the transphobe strawman personified. He harasses women and girls in bathrooms, wanted a topless pool party with minors with NO guardians present, he harassed women just doing their job. Yaniv is a bad person, plain and simple. I believe any transition he has gone through is a means to an end, the end being the ability to harass women and girls.

Overall it's a really nuanced thing but I'm not going to bat an eye if someone values the claims of the individual's gender identity more than the motives behind it.

[void-tiger]

After reading the majority of Morpheus!Dream’s comics (owww Overture kinda hurt but was also enlightening/confirmation), my take on Morpheus-as-Dream-of-the-Endless is this:

He’s someone who truly wants to be kind, does not want to be alone, but he’s so far stuck in his own head that it’s now shoved up his ass. This is a defensive mechanism; he’s so defensive that he’s largely convinced himself and others that he’s actually a callous antisocial asshole all along. (For some things it’s “easier” that way.) He is also stubborn to a fault, and quite obviously has a vindictive streak. (Often times it is deserved. However in the case of Nada—nOPE he’s an asshole who hadn’t learned how to handle rejection and refused to relent for MILLENNIA. DUDE. You absolutely deserved getting bullied by Desire for that one.) But, he will eventually own up to his mistakes or things he’s responsible for (even when they’re not his fault—they’re still his domain.) It just might take some time for him to admit that he’s the one at fault.

I also have the feeling that as avoidant this guy is with his relationships (jeez. Seeing how his parents Time and Night interact with him, the indifference of Destiny, and Desire deciding they prefer maliciously fucking with him instead…yeah. No wonder.) and as domineering he is with the dreams, nightmares, and dreamers (to prove to himself—and to the residents of The Dreaming—that he’s totally in control everything’s fiiiiine~ buddy you flooded the place with Personified Rejection Dysphoria) he’s actually quite clingy as an almost overcompensation for being “too aloof”. Gifts are definitely his love language and he showers them. But, that’s if he admits he needs and has friends at all. (I swear getting imprisoned in his own castle and everyone going “lol sorry no” (and Desire going “here’s a girlfriend. Your (problem) now”) made the whole admission of needing help…worse. Heck. He actually did admit to needing help while trying to fix the mess his compassion caused that was quite literally killing the universe. Granted Desire did turn up. Desire also got miffed and made a demiEndless vortex, so.)

In short, this guy could benefit from therapy. If, y’know, he’d ever admit it.

[pleasantvoidphantom]

To keep things a bit neater, I've decided to put this in a reblog.

Meet my OC's~

The ones I'm most likely to talk about come from 2 personal projects that are entirely OC driven original things, and one OCxCanon idea i play around with.

KAL-

No real name but only referred to as the "Kaz and Lulu" story, and something I write with a friend of mine over whatsapp for fun. A years long saga with a massive cast that I'll only put the more important players here.

Kaz:

Baby boy baby. Lil baby man. You wouldnt even know he was the son of lucifer(or a god) if no one told you! Let alone a mutated genetic experiment of his mother and grand parent to be a vessel/physical avatar for the primordial god of this multiverse. He has the emotional range of a brick but a pretty good moral compass, which is great because the fate of everything that ever was and will be rests on his narrow little shoulders. He didnt ask for these burdens, but he carries them well enough.

Lionel

One of Kaz's older siblings and another experiment of their mother. Originally a demigod with the inability to die, he has now become a full God in his own right. He's the god of crossroad demons or dealer demons. His followers are incredibly loyal to him, and he deeply appreciates their support and love. He's prickly, aggressive, and not afraid to speak his mind. He also was born in the body of a full adult, much like athena.

Mammon

A genius like inventor type. His father is the sin of greed personified and his mother the guardian angel of children. Due to his parents splitting up explosively and being a late stage miscarriage due to his mothers stress, his father exchanged his own life force in order to have mammon live, but neither parent could raise him due to greed's actions. As such, mammon was raised tumultiously on earth and learned that money was power, and power was tech.

Cephas

Self proclaimed as "a halfa's halfa," cephas is the middle child and only boy of a half succubi, half demon mother and half fae, half human father. Meaning he's a quarter each: demon, fae, human, and incubus. He's frankly unfairly charming and a chronic flirt. He happens to in Canon have a relationship with a pirate navigator mer man, the guardian angel of children, and the god of death. Outside of canon, he has even more relationships. He also manages his curse and strained family relationships as well as one can, given the circumstances. Hes also a talented magic user.

Atheleisia

Kaz and Lionel's older sister, and the goddess of thought and evolution incarnate. She was originally meant to be a memory bank for one of her mothers during periods of forced amnesia, but eventually Athel grew to have her own consciousness. Her duties are strenuous, hearing thoughts, emotions, and instinctive drives from virtually every living thing as well as souls. To mitigate the strain she is deaf to prevent sensory overload, and created a hive mind of herself to help lessen the constant whirlwind of input. Loyal and patient, but quite playful, she can be found comforting someone as often as she can encouraging them to play and be silly.

Jay

A human with a life cut short, his soul was pledged to lucifer and his crusade in exchange for a proper body that didn't give him dysphoria. He was second in command to Lucifer's general and was her partner on and off the battlefield until he severed her trust too deeply to be repaired. Jay is as loving and happy as he can be violent and hot headed. He loves animals and has been making strides to overcome his insecurities that lead to his banishment to come back home at last. Until then he resides on earth.

Eudora

The fallen princess, attempted queen of purgatory. Her plans failed the second she thought she could break Kaz to her will and use him as a trophy guard dog at her beck and call. She's since learned the error of her ways however begrudgingly, and now allies herself with Kaz and his family. She's still proud and stumbles over the idea of humility or virtue of her own self, but she does value her second chance and the fact that her territory wasn't entirely stripped from her, instead given new purpose.

The Fae

The project I work on with @/razzberrydazz about a despicable man kidnapping his fae daughters and two of them trying to flee to their mothers for their own safety, and their lives after being reunited.

Mazarine

A warrior and spy during the active war between the seelie and unseelie courts, Maz made quite a name for herself. But after the war came to a stalemate she had a child. She raised her daughter to be a symbol of peace and prosperity for the seelie court. Knowing how much of a role she served in the war she protected her child from being tricked into having her full or true name used against her by giving her what may just be the longest name in both courts as a counter measure.

Lady

The most beloved fae and ambassador of the courts, Lady has a great charm about her naturally with her pleasant demeanor and well thought out points. Both queens are putty in her hands and she isn't always aware of the power she wields over the fae as a whole. As much as she has a warm and genuine air about her, in private she's just as tragic as she can never let her failure as a mother and protector to her children stray far from her mind. Despite her greatest attempt to save Her youngest and middle child from harm from her lover. The man in question kidnapped her infant daughter and disfigured her middle child. In her shame she has periods where she must be monitored to ensure she doesn't shear her hair, the long and most carefully cultivated, never cut even once in her entire life, out of despair and shame.

Cressida/JJ/Phae Phae

Lady's kidnapped daughter and the last child that her father was able to abduct. She seems to remind her father all too much of Lady and as such gets treated as the scapegoat by not just the father but 12 of her 13 older sisters who were also taken. As she ventures to be free of her fathers influence with her eldest sister, she is less prone to violent outbursts and meltdowns. She feels safer to be curious and ask questions, much like a burgeoning tween should. She still struggles with the scope of her natural abilities and shortcomings, but the newer environment of being on their pilgrimage and finally being in the wildes certainly make her more comfortable with experimenting.

Gorillaz Fan OC

A thing I do more on my own, inspired by a canonxOC ship from a friend of mine.

Cholly

She's a military brat who's dad was stationed in Japan for a while when she was little. Eventually they get back to the states during the time of phase one, where Noodle is still trying to deal with the language barrier for the rest of the band. Choll meets the band and doesn't know much of their music, let alone that they were kind of famous, but is angry that they were ignoring Noodle on a grocery run. The group as a whole appreciates her stepping in, and she and Noodle especially stay close. She spends years through the phases spending summers with the band or being pen pals or texting and video calling until shes able to go to college where she does so online and lives with the group.

Intro Post

Came back to the dumpster on a whim. My moot @razzberrydazz dumps some creative stuff here so I decided to join them.

I'm an artist and writer(author sounds more serious than what I do, definitely) and will likely put info about my oc's and worlds as well as collabs with razz on this platform.

#vpoc(name) is the tag for any of my oc's.

Ex. #vpocjay, #vpocdora, #vpoccephas, etc.

I hope to speak of them often.

[littleeyesofpallas]

I don't normally post straight up headcanon, so consider this a disclaimer: don't mistake this for my normal attempts at reading into Kubo logic. This one's basically all me. (Also, goddamn i really gotta get better about not trying to preface or explain every little thought i have with some kind of evidence in canon. Like, shit, it doesn't matter...)

Anyway.... the headcanon go thusly: Mayuri and Senjumaru are both trans --Senjumaru's a very oldfashioned kind of transvestite accordingly with her kabuki(onnagata*) adjacent aesthetic, and Mayuri's of course a post-op transman but kept his name. (I want Mayuri top surgery scars fanart damnit!)

*Had to delete a big ol tangent here to save space, but Onnagata are men who play the roles of women in Kabuki theatre. Professionally an onnagata typically commits to playing women's roles exclusively throughout their career. And they have long since been coveted as a kind of "feminine ideal." (Which is kind of gross and problematic in its own right, but again not going into that here.) Point being, her having a few clear traits that align her with that specific image carries a lot of implications beyond just "maybe she's a dragqueen," that I feel this observations tends to get brushed away as.

We know Senjumaru has to be pretty old because as a Royal Guard member she's one of the original Gotei 13, and thus a contemporary of Yamamoto's... And even though Mayuri's age is pretty up in the air, we can kind of assume he's not that old because we know he knew Senjumaru before she ascended, and subsequently never really interacted with Seireitei again, yet it'd be pretty noteworthy if he was as old as the Gotei itself.

So, at a point before her ascension to the Royal Realm, I imagine Mayuri would've been pretty young. I imagine the then young woman would've been part of Senjumaru's oiran* style entourage, and hating every minute of it.

*Not gonna derail this with a thing on oiran, but google or wiki search it, it's an interesting facet of Japan's old social hierarchy, and honestly just kind of a useful thing to understand if you steep yourself in Japanese period setting media already. You'll probably immediately recognize the aesthetic and tropes from shows or manga you've already seen.

But I actually like to imagine that his first surgery, his top surgery, was performed by Senjumaru. Sewing is her specialty after all. But I get the feeling Mayuri wouldn't be satisfied with that and would deeper explore his personal dysphoria. And I pinpoint his trans experience as a dysphoric one because of the fact that we know he's clearly tampered with Ashisougijizo himself. His zanpakutou, the reflection of his inner self, has been tampered with. He sat down, meditated, convened with his own heart and soul personified, and then attempted to change it. (Okay I said this wasnt strictly textual reading but as a consequencd of kubos worldbuilding and character design this brushes up against some borderline bioessentialist BS. Please try not to take it to heart as some kind of broader worldview, I certainly don't.) Hence the elaborate investment in surgical medicine and prosthetic engineering.

I imagine this process of struggle also lead to a deepening split with Senjumaru over Mayuri's increasing fixation on surgical alterations --even beyond his rejection of Senjumaru's high value on the feminine, on gender as performance, and of her personal entourage which Mayuri would've implicitly abandoned when coming out as a man-- where her refusal to further operate on Mayuri for him would drive him to start experimenting on himself, as we now know him for.

But we also know that at some point Senjumaru was promoted to Royal Guard, and that part of that entails the creation of a thing foundational to Soul Society. Ichibee named everything, and kind of implied to have created Kidou (as his drawing of power from true names is basically what kidou spells are, and why incantations make them stronger.) Oh-etsu gave SoulSociety the asauchi/zanpakutou, Kirinji I guess just taught people to heal??? So, it seems like a pretty obvious conclusion given her skills set that Senjumaru's contribution was the creation of the Shihakusho: The shinigami's uniform.

Even though Ichigo is the only person to have a uniform explicitly tied to his spirit power, it feels like it's kind of implicit that for that to even be possible, the two have to have some kind of natural link. For the same reason that becoming a substitute shinigami on Rukia's powers came with the uniform.

But here's the funny thing... We never actually see her special clothes do anything... (and also they're all kinda boring, save maybe Renji's. We really could've potentially had a bunch of wild over the top outfits with gimmicky powers complementary to the heroes' own tactics --i guess we kinda got that with Rukia's snowgear. But still, we were robbed.)

What we do see is that she is powerful, fast, and subtle with her many mechanical hands*. So I don't think she actually created the Shihakusho, at least not by herself. And I don't think her real specialty is clothes, I think he real specialty is being a thief. I think Mayuri was working on his own projects and after something of a prolonged estrangement she approached him about some early form of the Shihakushou: clothing, a costume/uniform, that can literally empower the people wearing it...

*I feel like I should have some kind of explanation for those, as there's reason to believe she's missing her actual human meat arms from the shoulders down... and also it definitely seems like if someone built her elaborate mechanical doll arms, it probably would've been Mayuri? But I dunno, I got nothing...

And given their history together in this headcanon, I think Mayuri disagreed with it on principle. But Senjumaru's deft hands we know are good for more than just sewing, she's a lock pick as well. And I think she broke into Mayuri's personal workshop and stole the material she needed to complete her Shihakushou --and thus giving us some basis for her smug taunting of Mayuri when they come face to face again. But more than that, I think that when the importance of the Shihakusho became apparent, she was the one who had him committed to the Maggot's Nest as a means of silencing the one person who could reveal her fraud.

And I know I'm not the only one who saw some (seemingly) obvious set up during the TYBW arc for some very Shaman King-esque "twist" where once the King was replaced the Royal Guard would swap sides, as their allegiance was to the throne more than the person in it: so when Yhwach would inevitably take the throne, the Royal Guard would become the new villain gauntlet for the heroes, and Mayuri seemed pretty clearly poised to confront Senjumaru over their old beef.

[pomrania]

GodDAMmit Excelsior, you enjoying having your little dance there? Having fun shaking in my face that I’m doomed and will continue in misery? Getting pleasure out of laughing at my errors? Find a better hobby you asshole.

(For the record, “Excelsior” is how I’ve personified my rejection-sensitive dysphoria and the part of my mind that keeps bringing up embarrassing memories, because there’s enough of a thematic linkage there, and also it gives me a name to swear at.)

[quillsink]

🌝🌻 for the gender ask :)

🌻 what are your favorite gender words?

Idk if this is in terms of what gives me euphoria or what words describe my gender so I’ll do both!

Tbh being called “dude” is so gender like yes i am a DUDE. Love being a dude. Also I can’t explain this but girlfriend?? Is so gender?? I am “he’s my girlfriend” personified. “Bro” is another good one and I love it when me and my adopted tumblr siblings are like brothers n sisters and siblings it’s just. It’s awesome!!

The thing that describes me best would probably be FTM or trans man or transmasc, those don’t quite exactly capture it but FTM comes quite close! Genderqueer is also a good word! Nonbinary as well!! I’m technically binary trans yeah but like I remember that girlofswords said that being trans is an inherently nonbinary experience bc like we’ll never fit into a binary made for cis people and that’s why nonbinary describes me so well, because I am binary but the binary is fake so I’m not it, yk? It’s confusing lmaooo

🌝 free space: talk about whatever you want

We’re gonna be going back to irl school soon and it used to be only two days a week but now it’s gonna be four days a week 😭 I literally can barely be in a class with the cis guys in my class without being overwhelmed with aching envy because those motherfuckers get fucking TESTOSTERONE while i’m stuck here on estrogen puberty they’re growing tall and have facial hair and flat chests and DEEP VOICES OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MUCH VOICE DYSPHORIA WHAT WOULD I GIVE TO HAVE A DEEP VOICE 😭 anyways yeah I’m dreading more regular school because I’m gonna have to try not to stare at them too much bc I envy them so much lol

Ty for the ask Bea!!

[princeanxious]

The Royal Librarian- Chapter 1

Chapter 1- “The Road to Perfection is Destructive.”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Future analogical, future sidelines royality, sidelines established dukeceit, background remile

Word Count: a little over 3k

Warnings For This Chapter: Virgil’s got anxiety and is a bit self depricating, brief mentions of panic attacks, Virgil stays up and works himself for so much longer and harder than is healthy for a normal person in one session, boi highkey overthinks a ton when he’s not occupied. Don’t work yourself for 24 hours straight like Virge does, it’s not good for you.

Minor notes on Virgil’s mental state in this fic: Virgil has ADHD(as reflected by my own life experience) that shows up in different ways here and there, and he suffers from RSD(Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) which drives Virgil’s need to be perfect or fail till he damn near collapses from exhaustion, which also just feeds into his chronic anxiety. Thats all for now!

Chapter one(you are here!)|Chapter two(coming soon!)

Bonus stuff:

-the Rough Library Layout

[[MORE]]

Quiet. Such a word was practically synonymous with Virgil’s existence. The young adult practically grew up in silence, sought quiet spaces out like a moth drawn to a flame. And like a deer spooked by a snapping branch, he often fled from loud groups larger than three. He had been a quiet child, content to lose himself in any book he could get his hands on, reading for hours in any quiet atmosphere he could find. Alone, and content because of it.

So it was really no surprise he picked up a local library apprenticeship when he’d turned fifteen, and was a well-versed and well-read librarian by age nineteen. He had his lifelong friend Patton to thank for making him apply alongside hundreds of others to the opening position of the Royal Astra Family’s castle Librarian position, a year later. And, to be fair? He’d only applied because he’d been sure his resume would never have been seen, let alone selected, if only to simply placate his best friend’s excited begging.

He didn’t account for Patton’s connections as the Royal Head Cook to shift that margine of possibility to reach at least being seen. Though Patton chalked it up to the fact that he’d always talked about Virgil around the royal family anyway, long before the position had needed a replacement. It seemed to be just Virgil’s luck that ‘Virgil’ just happened to be a very uncommon name.

The panic attack that followed after he received a letter that his resume had been selected alongside a select few others for further evaluation had been a rough one. Still, he held out hope that his perceived inexperienced youth would save him, the stress and responsibility of such a serious job couldn’t be trusted with some ambitious kid like him, could it?

And, besides, it’s not like Patton’s constant praises carried that much weight, right? That's just how Patton was, a personified ball of sunshine! It was why Virgil was never surprised to hear Patton mention the royal family and staff by name on accident, or mention a silly story involving them in private, he’d clearly become close to them as the Head Cook. Though, the more he thought about it, he realized that.. Well, it’s not like the royal family had known Patton as long as Virgil had. Patton could be too trusting, and tried to see good in everyone, and well, perhaps the royal family trusted his judge of character over just simple skills. And wasn’t it just peachy that Virgil was lifelong best friends with said ball of personified sunshine? (Not that he’d ever trade their friendship for the world, never. It was just Virgil’s problem that he could never seem to tell Patton no, huh?)

Eventually, a nerve wracking week passed before Virgil finally had his answer in the form of an acceptance letter hand-delivered and an accompanying uniform and granted permissions to traverse and move into the castle grounds, all ordered and signed by King Thomas himself.

Apparently, his suspicions over Patton’s influence had indeed won out.

Three days later, Virgil finds himself silently saying goodbye to the home he’d made on his own, not as terribly forlorn over the loss as he thought he’d be. The small cottage he’d been renting didn’t feel much like home to him, anyway, not like a library did. Still, there was a longing to hide from the large change crashing into his life, and thrice he’d hid under his covers and cursed his weak will against Patton’s puppy eye’d pout. Eventually though, he’d talked himself out of his panicked haze, just in time for his first shift the following day.

“I can’t believe I let Pat talk me into this.” The ravenette grumbled as he leaned to the side. Using his weight and momentum to shift the sliding ladder he was perched on, he slid closer to the next book he’d been reaching for.

“Become the castle’s new Librarian! It’ll be fun, he said! It’ll help sooth my anxiety to work with even more books and even less people, he said, the head cook who works with at least 20 other staff each hour to maintain a steady meal plan for the entire castle staff daily!” The little librarian huffed to himself, resignation seeping out with each controlled breath.

His first day hadn’t been an easy one, and though he hadn’t expected it to go smoothly, he certainly hadn’t expected it to become such a mess. It wasn’t his first time working as a librarian, but leave it to good ol’ Virgil to let life make his days as eventful as possible!

From the moment he woke to the time he had his lunch break, not that he would actually willingly take a break nor need one yet, the day had been.. busy, to put it lightly.

It’d been storming when he woke, and though he was on time to get ready and leave, he’d only realized that his umbrella had broken the month prior. It had left him to make a twenty minute dash in the pouring rain when he found no other options.

He was plenty grateful for a bathroom stationed just inside of the library building entrance, where he hurriedly rushed inside to change out of his soaked attire. He’d been smart enough to pack away his official Royal Librarian uniform into a water resistant bag with a few additional dry essentials, and let his common clothes get soaked instead.

In a short six and a half minutes, Virgil was changed and mostly dry, though there was little he could do about his damp hair aside from comb his fingers through it. With his wet clothes packed away, he made it into the library on time to begin his first very long shift.

He’d already been sworn into secrecy when it came to occasionally dealing with the royal family’s history and artifacts in the future, and with his first and hopefully one of very few ever meetings with King Thomas out of the way, he was officially the new Royal Librarian. And now, also the only. As he was told in no certain terms that the last had retired and fucked off into obscurity before anyone had realized that the library had been left in disorganized chaos.

The old coot had apparently made his own system for everything, and hadn't bothered to write any of it down. From sorting sections to assigning books to genres, none if it clear and often very, very unorganized.

Virgil’s first big task was to comb through the entire damn building and use a new system, one that made sense. He was to reorganize every book and every section, using the appropriate genres and sorting. This way the royal family could actually functionally use the library and not waste time sorting through chaos.

This was where Virgil found himself three hours later, on the verge of a minor mental breakdown as he’d just barely sorted an eighth of the books on the main library floor into the Dewey Decimal system.

He’d had plenty of empty tables at the beginning of his journey, and right now every single one had some few stacks of books on each, labeled accordingly. Aside from his muffled ranting and the pattering of rain, the library was relatively silent.

It was odd, being alone in such a gigantic library. It almost reminded him of home.

He paused for a brief moment, having set down the final few books taken from the bookshelf he’d been working on. He’d gone through just one row of 6 bookshelves, and had 7 rows left to go, and that was just barely counting putting books back in the previous shelves as he went. A whine left him as he realized just how long this project was going to take.

“Fucking fuck.”

Somewhere between the second row and the third, Patton had stopped by to check in on Virgil. He found him hard at work sorting the fiction section on the left side of the building, tables half forgotten as Virgil attached unobtrusive non-damaging number labels to each and every book. Stacks of books lay carefully placed on the floor against each shelf, seperated by label and lack of label.

“You already look so at home, Virge!” The head cook whisper-shouted, though the sentiment was not necessary as the only other being in the library was the librarian himself.

“Yeah yeah, hush you. I’m a bit too swamped for ‘I told you so’s at the moment. So, what's up?” Glancing up at the taller man, Virgil briefly noted a small package wrapped in cloth was held in his hands.

“Can you spare a minute to eat?” Patton giggled, but Virgil knew better. He’d known Patton since they were kids, it wasn’t a question. Or a decision to be made. With a sigh, he placed the book he was holding in its place before turning to the cheery cook. “Yeah, I can.”

“How’s the kitchen today?” He asked lightly, having eaten the light meal quickly in order to get back to sorting. Patton hadn’t commented, nor had he been shooed away when Virgil began sorting again. He contently sat out of the way to finish his own lunch, his original goal having been accomplished.

“Oh! It’s going great today, honestly. Not too many mishaps from the newbies today either, so that's a bonus! And well, you know, making mistakes is in human nature but, they’re learning so quickly, I’m so proud of them! They’ll be taking my place by fall, just you wait and see! And, well, Roman stopped by earlier to swipe some snacks for Prince Logan, his brother, and himself. You know, the usual.” Patton chuckled, and if Virgil had looked, he’d seen the besotted look Patton always had when he talked about the head knight of the prince, he’d seen it a hundred times and was bound to see it a hundred or so more.

“Oh, speaking of,” Virgil butted in playfully, “I’ll finally get a chance to meet this knight and shining armor you’ve been swooning over for over a year now, huh?”

He watched Patton’s freckled face flush bright red, sputtering and then coughing on his mouthful of food. Virgil just cackled delightedly, stepping over to give Patton a few hard pats on the back to be sure his friend didn’t choke.

He laughed again when Patton gave him a pout and a soft “You’re so mean to me, Virge!” Eventually Virgil was able to placate Patton with a gentle hug, and the cook was sunshine and smiles again.

A finished lunch break later had Virgil finally sending Patton off, back to the warm bustling kitchens in the main castle building while he moved on to the next portion of his task.

He quickly found the steady back and forth rythme soothing. Pick a few books up, put them away. Pull a few books out, sort it by number as per their section of genre, set it in the right place. It was a blessing to find that there was just enough of a consistency to the previous plan that he could find up to five to six books in the same category in a row, and each set of books could be similar in subject, usually ending up just one section away. Often was the wayward book that found itself out of place, though he had assumed that these were often books just placed back haphazardly considering their subject patterns.

Often the most scattered and random books had ended up being of a few select categories. Without fail, he found that it would end up being a book on Space and Astronomy and/or Mathematics, in-depth Anatomy of Plants and Animals, young adult Fantasy Adventure novels, or Horror novels. It was.. Sort of odd, how there had been no section for each and all of these books, and yet there were so many evenly scattered. Perhaps that had been on purpose then, not haphazardly placed. But why?

Too busy to think deeply about it, he designated spots fitting each book type, and decided he’d figure out what he’d do with the puzzle later.

It was 6 pm by the time he’d finished the fourth row, and Patton had stopped by briefly to check on his best friend. He watched Patton’s merry expression drop some, concern seeping in as he took in his best friend’s progress.

“It’s almost 6:30, Virgil. Have you had another break yet?” He asked, watching his best friend continue moving back and forth. “Aren’t you tired? It’s been a little under 12 hours at this point, kiddo.. dontcha think it’s time to call it for the day? I mean, you’re already halfway there!”

“Library hours, at least Librarian work hours, don’t end till 9. And yeah, I guess I’m a little tired? But I’m in the zone, Pat. You know how I get when I’m in The Zone. If I stop now, who knows how long it’ll take me to finish sorting the other half?” Virgil rambled, half distracted and still trying to keep a vice grip on his concentration. “And besides, King Thomas said he’d be checking in on me tomorrow.”

“But Virge, you know he doesn’t expect you to have it done in one day. Thomas isn’t like that! That’s why he gave you a whole week to settle in, so you could move into the Library’s living quarters-which you haven’t done yet, might I add!- and get the library situated.” Patton stood stiffly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Virgil was as stubborn as he himself was when his mind was made up.

“Look, Pat.. just, I’m sorry. You know I hate to worry you. I’ll try to stop at 10, go home and get some rest, and tomorrow i’ll move my stuff into my new home here. And, i’ll take a break from sorting for a few hours. Okay?” Virgil reached out, taking Patton’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let Patton pull him into a tight hug, and didn’t resist when Patton briefly rubbed at his tense shoulders.

“Okay. Just, take care of yourself, Virge, okay? If I find out you stayed out an hour later than 11 pm, you’re gonna be in big trouble mister!” Patton giggled, lightening the mood the way he knew how.

“Yeah, yeah, hear ya loud and clear, Dad.” He watched Patton beam at the nickname, and moments later he watched Patton disappear behind the library’s main entrance door as his friend left him be, reassured. Virgil gave a heavy sigh, looking down guiltily at the stray book clutched in his hands.

“Let’s just hope ‘trouble’ just means a week of disappointed reprimands like last time…”

Hours later, Virgil’s head jerked up from his sorting as a father clock somewhere in the library dinged, signalling 10 o'clock. Biting his lip, he walked to the front doors and examined his options. He found he could lock the library from the inside, and pulled down the shutters. Briskly, he moved to cover each large window with their thick drapery, finding the adorning cloth thick enough to keep the low artificial light from seeping out. He dimmed the inner library lights so the library looked closed, but otherwise the building was still functioning from within.

Unless someone else had keys to the doors of the library, no one would know that the librarian was still stationed and working within. No one could see out, and more importantly, no one could see in. Which meant that Virgil was safe from Patton’s wrath if the Cook came to check on him, temporarily at least.

“Fuck, Patton’s gonna be so mad..” He muttered to himself, leaning against the librarian’s desk with a deep sigh. He’d briefly admired the beautiful desk earlier in the day, from the intricate carving to the beautiful dark mahogany. It would serve him well in the future, he hoped, after the thorough ‘grounding’ he knew he was going to get from Patton.

He shook his head to free his thoughts. There was no sense in getting in trouble and feeling guilty about it if he didn’t do anything to learn from in the first place. It was time to get back to work, and if he was lucky, he’d finish the main body of the library by the time his next shift started. Then, he could try and play it off, like nothing had ever happened, he’d just keep Patton out of the library till tomorrow to hide his finished work.

11 pm came and passed as he worked, and when he looked next at the clock, he found it was nearly 4 am. Tired but determined with only one row left, Virgil trekked on with a new vigor. All-nighters weren’t anything new to Virgil, not in the slightest. He was a creature of the night who rarely got a full night's rest to begin with. And sure, it was rare he worked his body so hard and for so long, but fixations were hard to break once in The Zone, it’s not like he could feel it past the hyperfixation haze.

Patton had often told him off for it when they were young, but as time passed they’d come to realize that’s just how Virgil was. Laying down did nothing to lure his mind to sleep on even the tiredest of nights if his insomnia had something to say about it. Better that he used the extra time to be productive, rather than spend 6 hours tossing and turning in bed, numbers and thoughts crowding in his head, and only getting up more restless than before. Patton often just tried to ease the aftermath if he could help it.

Sliding the last book into place was like sliding a final puzzle piece into a massive puzzle. The triumph of accomplishment had never felt so good, not like this.

Though, he quickly found himself aimless not 10 minutes later, seeking errors to fix and lost books to give a home. His brain wasn’t ready to let go of it’s fixation just yet, but as each second crawled by, he found himself recentering into the real world.

His body ached, and he was exhausted. His stomach gnawed at him weakly in hunger and his eyes watered from staring unblinkingly for so long. He eyed the chair behind the librarian’s desk, his desk now, he reminded himself.

“Screw it.. The Library’s sorted enough, I've got the rest of the week to make it perfect. A ten minute nap won’t hurt, right..?” He huffed to himself as he pulled the window curtains open one by one. Shuffling over to the main library doors, he unlocked them and raised the shutters. Soft morning sun rays fluttered into the connected windowed hallway just beyond the doors. He smiled at the tiny beauty of life, spotting the main library windows letting in the same comforting, dappled light.

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he plopped into the chair at his desk, finding it soft and comforting. Leaning forward, he rested his head on his arms, and under the fluttering morning light, succumbed to sleep’s gentle embrace.

Unknowing of the rude awakening that was soon to come.

Chapter two