#characters regardless of the trans part' way

[malt-rants-and-stuff]

Something else that I saw another person say but

-> ignores the intent and immigrant-coding historically done with the superfam in favor of telling a queer story that doesn't make sense given the basis of kons actual (not TV-showified) character

like, I have Many thoughts about kon and his gender that I could go on about but as a queer trans person of color from an immigrant family I can say this would not have been a good choice to go with. even while ignoring the clear lack of understanding for kon's characterization its just so obvious she did not put in the work to see what his character even was to begin with and instead just invented her own yj show/newer comics-oc mix character with the name "Conner", who in this version would have been Constance, and called it a day.

To be clear I would love to see a prominent trans girl hero in current comics I think that would be wonderful. But. the way this would have gone down? The destruction of a character already so mischaracterized in mainstream circles, who I love so much, and the ignorace towards what the impact of this could have been? That's not good representation, that's just a narrative mess.

Magdalene Visaggio’s rejected proposal for Kon

[doghart]

rereading house of leaves, once again i think johnny truant can read in a very interesting trans man narrative. the explicit lies/exaggerations about how stereotypically masculine he is (virility, ability as a tattoo artist, how much women love him, how strong and brave he is) in order to separate himself from femininity, and the way this degrades as he becomes more consumed by the story. the fear of femininity and the inescapable nature of it. the way his mother looms over the story even before you know she’s present, and the way johnny is repeatedly compared to being more similar to his mother than he wants, and unable to escape the things they share in common no matter how hard he tries to throw her off (this also ties into his fears of inheriting his mom’s schizoaffective disorder but that’s not relevant here). johnny removing his name in the obituary and being implied to have changed it in the whalestoe letters despite him having already introduced himself to us as johnny.

there’s a lot of criticism of the segments of johnny’s writing as being misogynistic (specifically that he as a character acts w/ misogyny not that house of leaves itself is misogynistic) which i absolutely feel holds ground, but it should also be remember that before anything else johnny truant is a liar and cannot be taken at his word as a narrator. his best friend’s name is a club drug. HIS name is johnny TRUANT. the ending of the book specifically contradicts itself to show that he’s a liar. with that lens, and especially with how as the story develops, johnny becomes increasingly distanced from the exploits he mentions early in the books, revealing a quiet and deeply unhappy man (who doesn’t really seem interested in any of the things he writes about doing at all), even textually it’s clear he’s writing all that to appear masculine and rugged in a way he thinks masculinity should be. when johnny’s character is actually revealed (in glimpses between his own ramblings about strippers and coke use), he reveals himself again to be more prone to his mother’s poetics and fails again and again to separate himself for that

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!

[roadhogsbigbelly]

i'm not sure how to write this without it being taken the wrong way but there's this really obnoxious kind of online person who thinks that "calling out" gay men or trans women for being "pedophiles" or "groomers" is bad not because of our culture's tendency to pull from pedo-panic to assassinate the character of queer people regardless of the size of said slight (if any), but because they think that being into incest or grooming is like. an inherent part of the queer experience. or whatever

[tobiasdrake]

Oh shit, the reboot of Ranma 1/2 has begun airing on Netflix. I am here for this.

Like a lot of people with gender stuff, Ranma 1/2 was a major part of my formative years. It was the first anime I ever saw outside of dubbed TV broadcasts, before I really understood what anime was. And the first anime I liked so much that I ravenously devoured the manga it was adapting.

To this day, I often find myself thinking back to it. Ranma 1/2 had a lot to say about societally-enforced toxic masculinity, and also about intrinsic gender identity that doesn't change even when the body fails to match.

In a way, it was kind of ahead of its time. It came to us in a time when a lot of genderbending stuff was like, "Okay, if your body turns female, then you're a girl. If your body turns male, then you're a boy. Whatever your body looks like at the moment, that's your gender, those are your pronouns. Now let's come up with a cute little name for what we should call your opposite-gender self when you flip!"

But here was Ranma 1/2 saying, "Ranma Saotome is a man. It does not matter if his body is female or male; he is always a man at heart." He never misses an opportunity to correct people who misgender him - or to seek a cure for the gender dysphoria that his curse routinely inflicts on him.

But he also has extremely rigid beliefs about masculinity and femininity; Beliefs that cage him in a prison of his own mind. He's not ashamed, at times, to take advantage of his curse in order to indulge in things that men "are not allowed to do".

Small things like sitting around an ice cream parlor enjoying a sundae. Real Men (TM) don't eat ice cream! Ranma is proud of his masculinity, but is also a slave to it. He is proud of his gender identity regardless of the shape of his body, but nonetheless cross-dresses to escape from the gendered pressures he places on himself.

And he gave a lot of fans their trans awakening. For a lot of people, myself included, Ranma Saotome was their first experience with the idea that assigned-sex did not have to be the absolute truth of your identity. Many fans took tremendous inspiration from Ranma's curse, and carried their own interpretation of Ranma with them in their heart as they went.

The fandom is overflowing with transfem Ranmas and genderfluid Ranmas and nonbinary Ranmas, because that is what this character meant to the LGBT community of his day.

He may not have been perfect - In fact, when you get right down to it, he's basically just a macho cis regularly forced into drag for comedic effect; This is not Gay Shakespeare - but he left a mark on the community. He was a key that unlocked the identities of a lot of us.

So it's with both excitement and also a degree of trepidation that I say, "Welcome back to modern pop culture, Ranma 1/2."

[officialspec]

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next listen listen to me i dont think he would ever actually examine this but i need u to put on ur tin foil hat with me for one second. i think estrogen could have saved her. i have more thoughts on this but im not gonna propagandise too much on this post just know that im right

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

[psychotrenny]

One of the more depressing effects of systemic transmisogyny is the way some trans women get so desperate for any validation thar they start praising chasers. And not just specific chasers who gave them an apparently "good" experience, but with the entire concept of chasers as a whole. It's like they feel flattered by the idea of people seeing their transness as a positive characteristic, something that makes them attractive and special, while ignoring the way that even "best case" that attraction stems from a place of dehumanisation which sees you as merely part of a class of sex objects rather than an actual individual person. I say "best case" because for many chasers their attraction to transfeminity comes less from a desire for those associated characteristics in a vacuum, an inexplicably desire for girlcock or what have you, but from the vulnerability (both personal emotional and systemically socio-economic) that TMA people experience making them much easier to exploit and abuse

Like Pro-Chaser sentiment is a product of people completely misunderstanding what a Chaser is and what they do. No matter how lonely you are it doesn't do any good to see Chasers as some easy outlet for sex and validation; their treatment of transfems isn't just degrading but is often outright dangerous to an even greater extent than your average TME individual. Not the sort of people you want to be spending any time around

And sometimes you even see this sort of sentiment, this desire to be loved by someone who only loves you as a tranny because at least it's some sort of love you can get as a tranny, creep through when others are treating Chasers in a critical or mocking way. Like the Halimede MF twitter account's whole deal is roleplaying as a (somewhat exaggerated but still recognisable) specific sort of Lesbian Chaser; the "harmless transfeminist girl" if you will. Regardless of what you think of the bit, it's very clearly a bit. It's largely meant to be funny, but certainly not flattering to the kind of chaser Halimede embodies.

Most of the transfems I know recognise this, on one level or another, but you sometimes see girls express an almost genuine longing for her. A desperation for affection so great that it bleeds into how they treat a caricatured depiction of someone that is predatory on a fundamental level, just because it represents a "real woman" capable of feigning some shadow of respect for their identity and struggles despite the obviously dehumanising way with which this character regards trans women and their anatomy. Sure a lot of this "I want Halimede" stuff is just playing along with the joke, but some of it has enough genuine sentiment behind the irony that it makes you worry. To put it in Tumblr terms, HalimedeMF is another example of "You missed the point by idolising her". Which isn't to blame the individuals; the fact it happens at all is just another manifestation of a much larger and more horrible system. But it's saddening how attempts to criticise our oppression, even light-heartedly, can end up just reflecting it back into our faces. We need to do better than this

[shaylogic]

Queer Experience Watching Barbie - AFAB Masculinity

I started to go into this in tags on another post but I wanted to type this up separately and try to develop my thoughts a little more. . .

Ryan!Ken’s arc in Barbie (2023) has been buzzing in my head for days.

I got fixated on it for a couple of major reasons:

1) We rarely have seen a feminist movie take time to address men with compassion in how patriarchy harms them too.

2) As a trans masc person, I think it hits a specific part of my identity that I don’t consciously let myself think about for too long. Something about being raised in a female world with sisterhood and community. Then being isolated in adult manhood without the tools to prepare you for that. Conscientious of respecting women and being unbothered by feminimity around you, but not knowing your place in the world.

How do I put it?

I know it’s not the direct intention of the film itself, but I’ve seen other trans folks (especially transmasc), reacting similarly to the feeling we get from it.

Ken’s arc feels pretty reminicent of the struggle afab lgbt folks go through when considering masculinity in their identity (butch lesbians, afab nbs, trans men, etc.)

How to make peace with masculine aspects of yourself without losing the women in your life? (One can argue Kate McKinnon’s Weird Barbie has aspects of this as well.)

Of course, then Ken goes off on the adopting patriarchy ride, which IS the point of the movie, and may skew a bit from the transmasc read on it--though I have known a trans guy here and there who avoids being misgendered so hard that they can become somewhat sexist. To which I say: “You don’t need to have a dick to be a man, and you don’t need to BE a dick to be a man.” But I digress.

Something about Ken being comfortable in a woman’s world but not understanding why he’s being shut out from socially bonding with them (in any sense! Romantic, Familial, Platonic Friendship. . .)

The overall theme of the movie for both Barbie and Ken--in an allegory of heavy gender roles harming all--leading them each to have to figure out who they are in themselves, regardless of others. . . 

Trans masc folx can relate to both Barbie and Ken’s arcs.

I don’t want to detract from Barbie’s arc being the main point of the movie.

I think the reason why we get hung up on Ryan!Ken’s character is because. . . we’ve related to the Barbie plot in other movies and shows before, thinking back to our “girlhoods” as children.

I have never seen the arc Ken has in this in any other story!!!!

There are some Man Movies that have attempted to discuss the struggle of Being a Man--but they often come off as too dismissive of feminine experiences, and are therefore as offputting to transmasc people as women.

Because of the nature of the two worlds exhibited in this movie, and Ken’s backround in his setting, personality, and purpose in relation to the Barbies, he’s a Man living with Female Socialization, in a Woman’s World; he’s a male character that inherently admires and respects women in his nature (until the real world influence distorts it).

This isn’t a perfect example of a transmasc experience either, but it’s a lot closer than most of us generally get to see! That’s why so many of us are getting caught up in this.

Please, other trans folx (transfems, too!), I really need us to have a discussion about this. What were your experiences and thoughts around this movie?

P.S. Yeah, we kinda get that nonbinary allegory from Allan (not a Ken, not a Barbie, siding with Feminism in the Gender War), but he wasn’t in significant focus of the plot the way Ryan!Ken was. If I try to read into Allan, I don’t have much to work with.

[tommycorriander]

Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, And Disability

I am disabled. This is something I've talked about a handful of times on this blog and on my Twitter, and anyone who knows me knows I am a disabled man. As a result, while I do enjoy dissecting media and politics, the need to be an advocate for disability issues would have fallen on me to some extent regardless. Disabled folks are often left out of conversations regarding diversity in media, in a continued oversight from able bodied peers.

What does this have to do with the Hellaverse?

Both shows contain at least some small amount of disability representation; specifically, they both have characters that are physically disabled. In Hazbin Hotel this is Vaggie, as she is missing an eye and prior to the finale had lost her wings. In Helluva Boss, the characters would be Fizzarolli, a quad amputee, and the unnamed deaf child in the special. The only character I ever see talked about in regards to their disability by the wider fanbase is the unnamed child, and on a smaller scale in critical spaces I occasionally see remarks on Fizzarolli's disability.

This is a problem.

For as much as fans of one or both shows would love to claim diversity in their shows, the lack of disability representation and the lackluster portrayal of the minimal representation is poor. And I haven't seen any of my fellow critics discuss this, which I feel is an oversight, though I don't fault them for this as there are many problems with both shows and they tend to have their hands full. However, this angle of viewing the shows has been overlooked, which is why I wish to discuss it today.

Firstly, I'd like to specify what I mean when I discuss disability. While the conversation regarding the Hellaverse is primarily centered around physical disability as this is the only form of disability portrayed in the shows, coded or otherwise, disability comes in many different forms. Intellectual disabilities and mental disabilities are just as important for representation in the media as physical disabilities. Among physical disabilities, there's also a difference in visible and invisible disabilities, the latter of which is hardly ever shown in media compared to the former. Ideally all forms of disability would be portrayed equally and with respect, but unfortunately this isn't the case. I also don't expect every show to tackle every demographic at once; this isn't a reasonable request, and to be very clear, my issue with the representation in HH/HB does not come from every single unique experience with disability not being covered, but rather with the narrative the creatives behind the show and the show's fans continue to push: that both shows are diverse and are, in some way, more progressive than other shows.

This isn't the case for many reasons. Fellow critics have gone into depth about the show's lack of representation of women in nuanced roles, the lack of queer women, the racist ways in which the very few characters of colour are presented, the lack of trans representation, and even the way sex and sexuality is presented being rather conservative at times. That isn't the focus of this essay, but I would implore anyone who is reading this who is somehow unaware of the previous issues to seek out essays that talk about those points; Cassidy Whiskey on YouTube has a three-part series that covers a multitude of topics, not just issues of representation, and I would have recommended helluvareceipts on Twitter, but her account has sadly been deactivated. I'm sure there are others, but I'll lose focus if I try to name every single person to go to. If you're willing to trawl through general pettiness in the critical tag (which, let's be real, that is probably how you found this post) you'll find well-worded critiques as well.

Back to the topic at hand. The lack of representation of people with disabilities is already frustrating, but there isn't a complete drought: Vaggie, Fizzarolli, and the unnamed imp child do exist, after all. However, their representation is not just flawed, but even exploitative in some ways.

First we have Vaggie. Aside from the visual of her missing eye and seeing the incident in which she lost that eye, nothing comes of it. She never has to contend with the difficulties that come with impaired sight, and it's never brought up by other characters. In the training scene between her and Carmilla, it's not a factor: instead, her greater flaw in the physical realm when it comes to combat is having longer hair. This is an extreme oversight, which I believe shows that Vivienne and the various writers for the show never actually take into consideration what should be a major element of a character, that being her impaired vision. Furthermore, the loss of her wings isn't even considered at all, with her somehow gaining them back at the end of her training montage with Carmilla. This could have been an excellent vector to discuss physical disability in a coded form, with her wings being a stand in for more traditional forms of limb loss. Still not ideal, as I believe it's better to have forthright depictions of disability over metaphors, but it would have been something. Instead, it's never a factor, and worse, it's effectively cured. As far as representation goes, Vaggie might as well not even count.

That's all that exists for Hazbin Hotel. In Helluva Boss, we have two characters, and I will save the unnamed child for last, because that is where the real issue with the representation is on full display.

So, Fizzarolli. He is a quad amputee and potentially hearing impaired, though the latter is speculated on due to a single scene which I discuss later. Since that scene is the only time it ever comes up, I will focus on his amputee status. He lost his limbs in a fire, something we see on screen. I will disagree with some of my fellow critics in that this scene should have been more detailed; I feel that had the scene shown more of the damage dealt to Fizz's body it would have come across in poor taste, and focusing on the tragic aspect of disability usually ends up feeling like trauma porn in the hands of poor writers, which Vivienne most certainly is. I do not trust her to handle a more detailed scene with grace, especially given her track record (more on that later). It is ultimately for the best that the scene is mostly brushed over, even if it would have been better in the hands of someone with the maturity and sensitivity to cover such a topic for more to be shown in regards to his injuries.

Otherwise, Fizzarolli is mostly fine. He's shown not just surviving but thriving, he has a loving partner (criticisms of the portrayal of said relationship not withstanding) and generally sees success in his life while still having to grapple with the realities of his disability when it comes to his prosthetics being prone to damage and potentially shutting down. I would, in the hands of anyone else, like to see more of this character and what his daily routine looks like as a disabled man.

Unfortunately all the good will built with Fizz comes crashing down when we get to the unnamed imp child in the Fizzarolli special episode. This child is the poster child for virtue signalling. Frankly, it's disgusting how a majority of the fandom seemed to ignore how fetishistic this portrayal was. This is where the real meat of the essay comes in to play.

This unnamed child is given a single scene, and is then promptly forgotten about and never mentioned again. They are introduced as being a fan of Fizz here to view the competition, there is a brief exchange between the two, and then we all move on. And yet this scene was championed as somehow revolutionary or a sign of the top-tier diversity and progressiveness in Helluva, when in reality this type of scene has been done to death. This is tokenism.

One major stumbling block many of the people championing this scene seem to get tripped up on is a very simple question: why was this child a child to begin with? Really, this seems like a simple question, it shouldn't have much thought. Sometimes characters are kids. But within the episode it's clearly shown through multiple different avenues that this is an adult show. The performances are dripping with sexuality, several of the fans of Fizzarolli are there because Mammon sells sex robots of the guy, there is no mistaking that this is something no child should be at, let alone by themselves.

So why was this child a child? Simple: brownie points.

It's a lot more difficult for people to share clips of a wholesome moment from your show if the person Fizz was interacting with was an adult. People are ableist, this is pretty par for the course; as a disabled person I find it generally safer to assume people are ableist before proven otherwise. I can guarantee if this scene were to be between Fizzarolli and a deaf adult fan as opposed to a young child, it would not have been championed as this amazing representation by mostly able bodied fans. And that is by design: if Vivienne genuinely cared about representation, if she truly wanted to show something meaningful to her adult fans in her adult show, she would have had the interaction be with an adult. But that doesn't get her clip shared around on social media. That doesn't get her brownie points for inclusion. It's safe, it's palatable, it's sickeningly wholesome, and it's insulting for that. This is a show for adults, something Vivienne and company is adamant on, and yet they treat their audience like children. As a fan, you should be insulted to have this key-jingling one minute clip presented to you. You should demand more, demand better.

Unfortunately I do not see ever getting better from Vivienne. She has made it very clear she truly does not care about creating art, she really only stumbled into being championed as a paragon for animation because her majority white and able bodied fans saw the inclusion of primarily gay men and thought that was good enough. She does not give a damn about disabled people, and she never will. To expect good disabled representation from her is like expecting good queer representation from a Marvel movie; she is in it for the money, and it just so happens that the inclusion of that scene makes money.

Addendum thoughts that were too long to put into the tags: I would like to make it clear that disability, because it presents very differently, is experienced very differently by many different people. If you felt seen or represented by the disability representation in either show, that's fine, and I don't want you to feel bad for feeling seen. Ultimately disabled people are largely given scraps; I have not once seen someone with my particular physical disability portrayed in media. Sometimes we latch onto things that are subpar or lacking; my criticism of reception to this scene is targeted primarily at able bodied audience members who may be lacking in this perspective and to also champion fellow disabled people to rightfully demand and expect better. Thank you for your time.

[writingwenches]

Aemond x Peasant OC

synopsis: Aemond leaves the comfort of the Red Keep to trek around the backwoods Riverlands, where an annoying peasant doesn't believe he is a prince. Then they do hand stuff near a lake.

themes: brat!Aemond, spoiled!Aemond, mixed race main character, mc grew up in a westeros version of a nunnery, surprise trans side character~ this is just the start of a larger “rewrite HOTD” type story.

word count: 10k (i hate me too.)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no targcest, hand stuff, mouth stuff, mommy issues if you squint, mentions of sex work, mentions of child death and pregnancy complications. Religious nonsense.

PART TWO OUT NOW

Freedom From – Act One

Charity is the only hope for useless girls, and not enough to go around. The Maidenhouse of Haronfall was an ancient structure, run by the Faith for centuries as a place to send discarded girl-children, forging useless girls into something worthy. It was their true calling, regardless of what those girls’ wants. 

For unwanted men of the realm, there was the Night’s Watch. Some unwanted boys are sent as soon as they were old enough to lift a sword. They were raised and trained to be useful along their brothers, forged to the sole purpose of defending the realm and never to be left wanting. 

The Septas of the Faith of the Seven recruited woman of fine birth, in want of a life not owned by a husband, and those who’s families were willing to pay handsomely for a life of purpose for their unfortunately female child. Women worked and clawed and won their way into the duty of a Septa, the Faith had no use for useless girls. 

There was no place in the realm for unwanted girls. Brothels did not want them. They already had enough bastards, and young flesh did not turn enough of a profit. Girls were not wanted unless they were useful, and many unuseful girls found themselves living on the streets or dead in a ditch.

That was what would befall Lyn is she were ever to be found wanting, of something more, of something else. She was lucky to have been given her place amongst the holy woman of the Faith, even if she was not going to benefit from their handouts much longer. Lyn had been found wanting at an early age, never reaching the hidden marks required to be gifted a role as a Novice. Those girls found wanting were given hard work of servitude, waiting on the Septas that filled the halls of the Grand Motherhouse, constructed around the ancient order’s orphanage, nestled in the swamp lands of The Bite. 

The prayer before work was never ending, but no one had the heart to interrupt the young girl, hands clasped together, eyes stitched shut, conversing with the gods in earnest. Lyn tried to shake her mind from racing at the thoughts of the future, focusing on the task at hand. House Erenford was not able to keep a staff his large permanently, but they would take every chance for a few strong-backed girl servants from the Faith to tend their Keep during festivals and feasts. House Erenford honors hard workers, and knows that the serving girls’ would be in need of work away from their lands as soon as they could find it. The elderly Lord Erenford would always put in a good word with visiting households in need of additional servants. 

Lyn tried to for her back to appear straight, as she lowered herself enough to reach the basket of herbs that needed plucking. Her fellow maid, Hanna, peeled potatoes below the table and out of sight of piety. This was not the first time the group of maids had been contracted to work during a feast at House Eronford’s keep, and Lyn knew that they did not have time for endless prayers and blessings if they were to keep their schedule. Their traveling party lost many hours to traveling from the Motherhouse, where the young maids hailed. 

Lyn’s eyes remained downcast, she was raised by the Septas of the Faith of the Seven since as long as she had memory. She had learned to pray before she could do any other task, it took many years to learn how to appear to be praying, which is much more efficient. 

Her small movements had been noticed, however, by the Lady Aeditya Mallister. She had been raised on a far-off world, at a distance Lyn could not properly imagine, away from the tradition of the Faith. 

Lady Aeditya cleared her throat, trying to get someone’s attention, her empty cup dancing in her hand.

For years, Lyn assumed Aeditya was of mixed peoples, like Lyn herself, with skin of a strange middle ground between dark and light. But, after serving the lady on numerous occasions, she was assured that Lady Mallister was of impeccable birth, thought to possess ravishing beauty by her entire nation, a nation where all peoples looked like her, but obviously less beautiful. 

Lady Aeditya exhaled loudly, and no move was made to fill her empty cup while prayers were still being pledged.

Lyn agreed that Lady Aeditya was beautiful, but knew that her distant land would not welcome her for her skin alone. Their features were completely different, were Lyn was plump and sturdy, Aeditya was slim and narrow. 

“LYN!” the lady finally shouted. The prayers abruptly stopped. “My cup is empty. Where is the wine?”

“Of course, Lady Mallister,” Lyn said dutifully, flicking away the moist bits of shredded herbs from her fingers, glad that the room burst to life as work for the feast could finally begin. Behind the pillar of the wine cellar, Lyn suck a few gulps from the pitcher to warm her belly before returning to fill the lady’s empty cup. 

—

“Ugh!” Lady Aeditya huffed, as she lounged on the stone hearth, stroking her distressingly pregnant belly. “It’s too quiet in here, someone speak,” she ordered, her wine cup almost empty one again. 

“Is the duck ready for the oven?” Hanna chimed, thinking her thoughts aloud as she passed. 

“No!” Lady Aeditya stamped, “The babe grows ears! Do not speak of things I know nought about!” Her words staccatod for emphasis. “It is isolating to me, we must not encourage such things for the babe,” she said as if it were obvious. “Lord Ryver and Waltel Frey are sparring, as always, and I did not come here to be bored.”

Lady Aeditya came to Haronfall, along the edge of The Bite, all the way from Seaguard, the western most point before the Iron Islands. It was the only area of land Lyn had ever known. It was more than a week’s journey between the two settlements, and every pregnancy, Aeditya seemed to spend the majority of her time away from her lord husband.

“What would you like to speak of, Lady Mallister?” Lyn asked, sharing smiling glancing to the other girls working. She tried to get the savory herbs from beneath her fingernails, to not spoil the sweet pie filling she was mixing. 

Lady Aeditya signed again. “it is always up to me, the true burden of being a lady.” She sat up straighter and addressed the help with her eyes. The Lady Aeditya saw an unorganized gaggle of unmarried maidens, who were long old enough to bare children of their own. Poor, former infants that were abandoned by their destitute mothers at the Faith’s doorstep, now traded around as extra help for a few measly coins. Aeditya say little difference between this and woman who sell their bodies in other ways. She could never imagine sullying herself with such unfulfilling work with a true lack of purpose. She pitied them in some ways – an envied them in others. “Girls, be thankful your minds are not always at the helm of every stimulant in conversation.”

Honestly, Lyn was thankful as her brain was far away from the dank kitchens, hidden below the gathering hall. The windows were scarce and to allow only for light, rather than a beautiful view of the fertile swamplands surrounding the keep. Lyn’s mind was free to soar and wonder, watching a bale of turtles balancing on a single log as they competed for the best spot in the sun. Lyn often wished she were a simple turtle, floating along the creeks and bogs, armored against chomping lizards and long beaked birds. She was free. 

Very much unlike Lady Aeditya. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, both hands reaching for her overlarge belly. “Come hither! The babe! He kicks!” 

The room flurried with rushing girls and dropped buckets. 

Lyn did not think Lady Aeditya so bad. Lyn was present at her last birth, as Aeditya’s labors began in Haronfall, and lasted days. The boy was born asleep, the Septas said, wrapping him in cloth and not allowing the mother a single look before carting him away, leaving Lyn and the other girls to hold Aeditya close as she wailed. At the request of Lord River, Aeditya remained in Haronfall to give Lord Mallister’s temper time to subside. 

Lyn smiled as she felt the babe kick, before other girls pushed her palm away to feel for themselves. Lyn didn’t know how much she believed in the gods, but she prayed to all of them on behalf of the Lady Mallister, prayed that they would finally bless her with a single child that lives, if only to spare her from her lord husband’s much-gossiped-about wrath. 

Lyn was very thankful she was a poor maid, with no hopes and no prospects. She had seen first hand what prospects could do to a woman. 

— 

Whatever the reason for Cinda Lannister’s personal crest being a lioness fighting a diamond snake, many speculated that she was much more the snake than a lioness. Perhaps the speculation began from Cinda herself. 

“My prince,” she curtsied impeccably. “Oh, how I wish you’d allow me to call you ‘my favorite prince,’” she teased, snaking her hand around Aemond’s arm, without him offering it. 

“As I have told you since childhood, you are allowed to do no such thing,” he scoffed, wishing he could shake her arms away like he could his mother. Cinda Lannister was a high-born lady, not something that could be manhandled, so he allowed her closeness begrudgingly. “What is it you want this time, Lady Cinda?” 

The younger sister of Master of Coin, and personal possessor of the largest sapphire mine in all of Westeros, threw her head back with a laugh, allowing the tall prince a better view of her bare neck and low-lying neckline. “You are always a laugh, my prince!” she mused, “I do not want anything from you. I simply wish you tell you of a surprise gift I have found for your dear, sweet, sister, the Princess Helaena.” 

“What is it?” he asked plainly, wishing the halls of the Red Keep were shorter, or any other reason for this conversation to end. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” she jested back, “no, I will not tell you what it is, simply where to find it, if you would wish to help me fetch it for her.” 

Aemond offered Cinda his hand at the end of a long staircase, as any proper gentleman should, and she gracefully accepted it. “Fine,” he held his tongue in anger, “where is it?” 

“Haronfall,” she replied quickly. 

“Heronhol?” he had heard, expecting the gift to be some haunted tree spider. 

“No, my prince. That is a common miscommunication. Haronfall, along The Bite, Near The Twins, but not quite. Ruled over by Lord Eronford. It is far older than Haronhol and some say it could be the inspiration for Lord Aaron’s naming of his own Keep.”

It was not often when Aemond took more than a thought to remember the heraldry of a house. “A heron on a pink banner?”

“Correct, my prince!” Cinda used this as an opportunity to giggle. “That is correct?” Cinda asked, turning towards Aemond’s back.

Aemond had not noticed the girl following behind, a girl, barely old enough to be called a lady, clad in bright red rubies and lace. “Yes, aunt,” she replied meekly, not looking up at Aemond. The daughter of the Realm’s Lannister Master of Ships. 

“Thank you, Cordelia,” Cinda said. 

Aemond had been offered the young Lady Cordelia on numerous occasions since her birth. The second-born prince had no interest in playing nursemaid to a child, or bedding one. 

“Haronfall is where I shall be traveling to, unfortunately I shall be missing the King’s nameday festivities, but as you know, your sweet sister’s own nameday is so soon after, that she rarely receives much fanfare.” Cinda said. 

“And with all of the troubles she has had of late with those nasty girls from the Stormlands. I simply shudder to think of the vile insults thrown her way.”  

—

In the past, Helaena’s ladies forced her around the keep, the princess’s feet dragging paces behind the ladies’ closely fortified wall of linked arms. They had all hailed from the Stormlands, a great honor bestowed by the crown. Jena Estermount, the eldest daughter to the second richest house in the region who openly mocked the gods, Arianna Tarth, a half-dornish girl, and Corenna Storm, a noble bastard of House Baratheon.

As they wafted through the walls of the Keep, Aemond thought it plain to see that the princess’s ladies were not interested in the princess at all. Helaena did not seem at all bothered when the Queen dismissed the group of catty ladies from court after she discovered them mocking the princess behind her back. Queen Alicent distrusted each girl for their own glaring flaw, and only had the prejudices enforced through the girls’ actions.

In reality, Helaena had not minded the names they called her. Some of the names were quite clever. One of the girls, the bastard, had called her “Batty.” Helaena had never given much thoughts to bats before that name, and since has discovered she finds them quite fascinating.

—

Cinda had always seemed to have the Queen’s interest at heart. Aemond figured Cinda was a child when his mother was married, basically offered as a gift from the Lannister family. Cinda was a Lady in her own right, the rightful daughter to the Lord Paramount of the West, and had the authority born from her great house, to assist the queen with any ladyly matters that concerned women. 

Aemond wasn’t sure what ladies did all day, but he supposed planning gifts for a princess was a worthy endeavor. 

Aemond had only known Cinda to honor his mother in whatever way necessary. He liked the way she made people squirm. 

“Careful, Lord Larys,” she quipped once, while his mother and the clubbed foot whispered in the corner. “If you aren’t careful, I shall marry you. And I shall keep my husband on a much shorter leash.” 

Cinda was young enough to be a proper match to marry Prince Aemond, but old enough to lack many more fruitful child baring years. It would basically be admitting to the realm of his care for the woman, which he had none, no matter how many times he returned to her bed to lay his head upon her chest. It meant nothing, he told himself, even as the tears stung the corners of his eyes as he burrowed himself into her. 

Cinda was just a teen, helping the Queen Mother after Aemond’s incident on Driftmark, letting the small boy lay on her chest as he was sick on milk of the poppy. 

His mother was there, asleep on the chair near his bedside, but she could not bare to touch him. The last time she cradled his face, the night it happened, she erupted with rage and she was horrified, afraid she would lash out at the boy with her anger like she had attacked her once best friend. 

It was Aemond that snuck into Cinda’s chambers a few moons past when they stopped sleeping in his own chambers. It was the first time he had seen a lady without a corset, when he climbed into her bed, teary eyed and pouting about the pain his family was tired of hearing. She let the pitiful boy sleep on her chest, Aemond thought her was much more comfortable without her corset. 

Cinda had never changed the way she looked at him. He had always been the poor, second son that she loved to dote upon. Even after gaining Vhagar and losing his eye, she never faltered in her incessant mothering of him, always to his annoyance. 

The winter following his lost eye, Cinda had made sure to strap him into his winter coat personally, buttons, belts and all. So many, the young boy would grow too impatient every time he attempted to shrug it off. 

Aemond would threaten to feed Cinda to his new dragon at her every annoyance, and every time she would hug him close, and before long he was tall enough to get a face-full of her ample chest. 

It had become a game for him, without him realizing what he had been up to, with his newly formed fascination with women’s breasts. 

Cinda was the first to notice his little scheme, calling him out in their quiet place, “I thought you my favorite prince for being so different from your elder brother, His Grace. I can’t have you being a leacher as well.” Her thumb as passed over his lips as she caressed his cheek and he felt every inch of skin set aflame. 

He legs stormed him out of her room and down two corridors before he was able to hear the world again. The blush did not leave his flesh for weeks, as every time the young boy caught a glimpse of a red dress, he was reminded of her alluring words. 

Aemond had been panicked for so long that Aegon noticed. When Aegon approached Cinda about the incident, she licked her thumb to wipe away from dirt on Prince Aegon’s nose. He lost interest quickly, not enjoying her mothering the way others did. 

His grandsire had even requested to speak with him about something important. Aemond was enameled by the strategic maps and sums that scattered the office of Hand to the King. 

It was a meeting, much worst than he could have ever feared. Otto thought it had been time that the young prince he spoken to about urges. Aemond thought about jumping from the Hand’s Tower, surely death was better than this. 

“I don’t…” Aemond was cut off, Otto was not going to let him get out of this one. 

A large, ancient tome was presented to the young prince. Aemond closed the book as quickly as he opened it, after seeing the crude drawings of nude bodies. “I don’t want this,” he said, pushing it back to his grandsire, not making eye contact. 

“Think of it as an early nameday gift,” Otto patted him on the head, not allowing Aemond to leave without the book. 

The young prince held the tone like it was covered in acid, not wanting it to suddenly burst into flames. That was until he noticed Aegon a floor below, and Aemond hid the book under his shift, tucked into his breeches to unsuspiciously walk past his elder brother and little cousins. 

It obviously did not work. 

It never worked. 

He stopped seeing Cinda unnecessarily after that, only allowing a passing conversation at a mutual dinner or ball. It wasn’t something he needed, he reminded himself, with his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the Harvest Ball in the Red Keep. The festivities were distracting his brother and his club of suitors from The Reach, all who took great pleasure in Aemond’s discomfort. If the Reach Ladies ever found out about his secret nighttime travels to Cinda’s chambers to be swaddled with a babe…the only option would be to sacrifice himself to the Old Valyrian gods by Vhagar’s dragon fire. 

Even as a man grown, Aemond could still picture the sting of Lady Ivyanne Tyrell’s voice in his imagined scenario that he allowed to play on loop every night. 

“By the gods, One-Eye, do you love Cinda Lannister?” He could feel their laughter, even without it ever happening. 

Not that he had thought about the exact scene in his loneliest hours of sleep, Cinda was never at a lack of quips and womanly come-backs. Lady Cinda Lannister was not afraid to call out Ivyanne for the sapphic invert she truly was. “Have fun with your Game of Flats, I’m sure Prince Aegon enjoys watching.” 

Not that Aemond ever imagines such things, especially right after he had just finished his imagining. It was always the last time, every single time. 

Lady Cinda Lannister bathed in the morning, before the sun is fully risen, beginning her day before some of the Keep’s servants. Aemond knew that much about her routine, after being gently woken and forced to trek back to his own chambers before the castle was awake. 

The early morning after his thirteen nameday festivities Aegon had talked him into, Aemond found himself in Cinda’s chambers once again. She did not have to ask, his tears could not be controlled. 

Cinda had derived a way to lock the doors from the inside, she was never one to to be caught off guard. 

They both bathed in their shifts. Aemond cried into her neck as she washed his hair and sponged his face. She distracted him with Lannister family histories, courtly gossip she had overheard, talk about her excitement for his sister princess’s new ladies-in-waiting arriving from the Stormlands soon.

They couldn’t stay there forever, as Aemond would have wished. The dream between sleep and awake evaporated together into the cloud of his memory. Aemond could not remember if he asked Cinda to marry him that night, or if it was only a fleeting dream. Regardless, there was a sweet declaration of her painless rejection. Aemond had not minded. 

— 

“I hope you are daydreaming of me, my little prince,” Cinda laughed, grazing his cheek with her fingernail. 

The waking nightmare had been so real that Aemond started back to attention, tripping young Cordelia, who was following him too closely.

“You will be gone for weeks,” Aemond continued forward, leaving the young Cordelia to pick herself up from the floor. 

“I hope you do not miss me too fiercely while I away,” she shined. 

“I never do,” Aemond blanched as she pressed her lips to his cheek. 

— 

Aemond could not withstand another moment of his father’s sixtieth nameday celebration, and took to the skies before the great hunt had finished. He had been given his heading of The Bite, and he had studied the wastelands of the kingdoms in his youth for this very reason. He had no need for a map. 

Vhagar circled the estuaries trickling out of The Bite, the bitter air of the cold swamp fluttered upwards, the smell of fresh death, and decay played inside him. Only a place like this could grow the strange bog creature his sister was surely going to cherish from Lady Cinda. 

The settlement had been easy enough to find, after a few hours of searching the shores. Vhagar’s legs sank into the muck as she landed, the elderly she-dragon grunted with every movement, refusing to lean on her wings for support. She took two additional landings for Aemond to calm her enough to dismount.

Before his dragon had disappeared from view, tall, squawking birds had found perch upon her wide back. Aemond was sure her dragon fire would not find purchase amongst the brush and trees, the place was too dank to be set ablaze. 

By the time he reached the settlement, Aemond had cursed every rock and root he had passed for the past few miles. He wished Vhagar had roasted the entire countryside rather than spend another moment knee deep in cold muck. 

— 

“Ryver has gone mad yet again,” Lady Aeditya’s slurred down the stairs, she risked tumbling for a change at her favorite exaggerated eye roll, marking her judgement on others. “He thinks there is a Targaryen prince at his door.” 

The work in the room stopped at once. 

“…another one?” Hanna asked, her hands almost burning on the pan she paused handling. 

“It seems so,” Aeditya shook her cup until it was filled. 

“This shall be the fourth ‘prince’ to show at up his door, correct?” Lyn asked, she could not hide a smile stretching over her lips. 

“When his Lord father is away, Ryver will open the Keep to anyone with silver hair and a claimed title.” 

“What do you think this one will be like?” Hanna asked, “handsome for once?” 

They all had a laugh at that. 

“This one is different,” Aeditya answered, “Or so Ryver claims. This one…has lost an eye.” The lady stretched out her iris as she drained her cup. 

Lyn did not understand the gesture. 

“The prince,” a quiet maid said, “one of the prince’s is missing an eye. They call him ‘One-Eyed!’” 

There was mumbling amongst the ladies, Lyn even joined in. 

Aeditya could not help but be correct in all things, “Girls! Do not be such gullible lambs! Are we really to believe there is only a single silver man in the entire world and he lives at the king’s palace?” 

The new mumbling confirmed that the Lady had a point, as she usually did. Lyn was glad that her worldly education was being put to good use somehow. “Girls these days–” Aeditya said, ignoring their clearly overlapping ages, “–are so quick to believe whatever best suits them. Back when I was a maid, girls were instructed on forming more than the quickest of opinions.” Her hands were at her belly, wishing her wisdom above all for her future son. Wisdom and breath. 

“And besides, I’m sure he would have been born without the eye. Marrying one’s brother dilutes health, it is a simple matter of nature. And besides,” Aeditya looked over the gathered foods. “How would a young princeling lose an eye to begin with? They own the strongest guards on the continent” 

“Perhaps it could have been an accident?” Hanna asked, seeing it as a reasonable offer. 

“No.” Aeditya put down her goblet. “I saw the creature’s face, that scar was no accident.”

— 

Lyn did not want to admit to herself that she wanted a peak at the potential prince herself. If only for the chance to see a nasty scar. Lyn wasn’t one for violence, but she did think the human body a fascinating thing. She sometimes forgot about the prominent marks that scar her own face, a thing that some Septas preach as a consequence for a mother’s sinful life. She was only reminded by her betters. When a traveling Septon instructs her to stand as an example for his sermons on the ill-effects of sin on the body. Lyn did not mind the occasional Maester passing through their congregation asking to examine her. She had been assured that there was nothing malicious about the marks on her face. 

Lyn likened her marks as her calling card, she was an easy face to remember a few summers past, it was what helped her gain her odd-jobs, helping rebuilt fences and carrying stone for ailing paupers. Most in the Realm would scoff at the offer of manual labors from a woman, but those in need are much kinder. They they are not always grateful, it is not because of her sex but because no one wants to turn beggar. Though, accepting help from the Faith was always easier on an ailing conscience. 

For as long as Lyn could remember she had been amongst the statues of the Seven Gods, and the Septas of the faith. She had learned to clean herself by them, she learned discipline by their rods, she learned how to be of use to the world.

Lyn was grateful for her life amongst the Septas, but was glad to be away whenever possible. Lyn thanked the gods that they only appear in Haronfall for the markets, and only require novices to accompany her during work in the Erenford’s Keep.

Lyn surmised most of the Septas had not imagined ending up in such a cold, dank place in the middle of the Kingsroad. The western shores of The Bite was unforgiving terrain, a swamp of brackish, mud-colored water that every structure eventually sinks into. The Reverend Mother often reminded the girls of her life in the southern Reach, of the endless summer days and sweet smelling grass. The wet, grey skies where the North, Riverlands and Vale meet leaves much to be desired for a southerner. 

Lyn was not meant for a life as a Septa, as was foretold since her youth. The maesters and Septons tested the young girls as they came into the charge of the Faith and Lyn, and the other girls of the Maidenhouse, left them unimpressed. She had not shown intelligence, or gifts for art, or sums, or memorizing prayers. So, she was ranked amongst the useless girls who needed to be molded into something more.

Lyn knew of the dangers of a beautiful face, the Septas told them every tale that could exist of beautiful girls being dragged away and savaged by men of all ages and sizes. It was horrifying. Lyn was glad that no man would ever want to drag her away or trap her in a tower. Lyn did not mind being disgusting and ugly because of the marks on her face. 

Besides, girls did not care about such things as ugly, they cared about her all the same. So, she was glad the world was not ruled by women, just like the Septas they would force a use for her in their world, no matter what she looked like. 

“You can really give it to him, my Prince!” The eldest child of the current Lord Erenford called. “We Riverman can handle our own!” Lord Ryver shouted, as he hurled his sword into the guarding shield of his companion Waltel Frey. 

The two young men began fighting in earnest, as a third party looked on. The Supposed Prince. Lyn assumed.

A small boy ran into the fray, wooden sword blazing and iron helmet blocking his line of sight, requiring a few strikes to properly attack his opponent’s buttocks. 

“Yes Robyn! Attack!” Ryver shouted, “Go for the legs!” the small boy wrapped himself around the Frey’s knees as the clang of realm swords sounded until Waltel Frey yielded, which was traditionally followed by a rant of Red Ryver from the Erenford boys.

“Oy!” Waltel called from his chosen place to end his tragic death rattles for the amusement of Little Lord Robyn. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite grayscale woman!” Robyn leaned against the fence encircling the training yard. 

“Have you ever seen greyscale?” Lyn asked, her tone trying to convey that this was not her favorite greeting. 

“Obviously not,” Robyn answered, he might have been known as the Red Ryver, but he didn’t have a death wish.

“It does not look like this,” Lyn pointed to her face, “I know this because Maesters have shown me their drawings.” 

“Do you speak to Maesters often?” It was the turn of the Supposed Prince to speak now. 

Lyn regarded him, with her eyes. “Charmed,” she stated, echoing the word of Lady Aeditya to denote that she was less than pleased.

 “Lyn lives at the Motherhouse!” Little Lord Robyn added, firing an arrow into the fencepost Lyn was standing in front of, thankfully his ever present helmet did not effect his view, this time.  

“The Maidenhouse?” Waltel questioned.

“Maidenfort!” Ryver echoed his common words for the Faiths Cloisters. 

“We get plenty of Maesters there, if it please you,” she stated, bowing slightly in the presence of Supposed royalty.

“Are you a Septa?” Aemond regarded her this time. She had a ruddy face covered in mess and sweat, brought upon by the brisk pace of a servant’s life. Her hair was braided down slick to her head, it was either flecked with blonde or dirt. What Aemond first guessed was mud on her face turned out to be her, freckles could not contain the black stains that blotched her cheeks. “You are dressed like a child servant.”

Lyn’s skirts were inches shorter than the noble ladies and their proper servants, “It’s easier to walk,” Lyn stated the obvious. She did not need yards of extra fabric mucking about her purpose in life. “And I am no Septa,” Lyn clarified, though not wanting to explain her life any further to this imposter.

“So…it seems the Prince of the Realm has come to Haronfall.” Just as Aeditya had many times before, Lyn brought the conversation to the group. Ryver had wasted no time to clasp his hands upon the Supposed Prince’s shoulders. He did not seem to like that. “That is exciting. What brings you here Ser–Prince?” Lyn had never thought how to address a royal before.

The Prince scowled, “I am here to fetch a gift for my sister,” he answered plainly. 

“I make baskets!” Lyn could not help but exclaim proudly. The Septas had instructed her to always he in search of work, then one would never be wanting for it. “If your sister is in need of a gift.” 

The Haronfall boys were dutifully thrilled at the suggestion. 

“–no,” the Supposed Prince chuckled the word with an arrogance Lyn had not experienced in a man of his young years. 

“Alright!” Lyn did not need to defend the usefulness of a basket very often, and her blood was beginning the boil.

“You make baskets?” he mused in her direction, not lowing himself to speaking directly at her.

“I do. I make them all m’self, I do. I harvest the grass, I dry them, I weave them, without help from no one,” the words bubbled from Lyn’s mouth. “Unlike the looks of you, who could nought tie his breeches alone.” 

Aemond did not like when she pointed to his breeches, or their ties, or the general area in which they reside, in some field, in the damned Riverlands. It was unseeingly! Prince Aemond Targaryen was a god amongst men, the rider of the largest dragon in the world and he would not have his manhood regarded by some peasant. 

“I am a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms–”

“More like six,” Lyn said loudly enough for Ryver and Waltel to stifle a laugh. Ryver’s only respite was promising to explain the jest to little Robyn at a later time. 

Lyn pointed at his breeches straps again, just to watch his face twist in annoyance. 

“I could have you whipped for saying that,” Aemond spat, nearly disrupting the wooden fence separating him from the swampland creature that dared to grace his–

“If you were the real prince–“

Aemond’s mind echoed the if, convulsed his annoyed face into confusion. 

“If!” Lyn repeat to overpower the groans from Lord Ryver, who had thought the group was at a place far past this. He had only been wrong three times before. That did not denote a pattern. Yet. 

Lyn looked the supposed prince in the eyes, a gaze devoid of any reverence or interest. “If you were the real prince, you could have me whipped no matter what I say,” she regarded the man no further. “If it please you, I have a job to return to.” 

Aemond’s hand was on his dagger, he had every right in the whole of the realm, on any continent on this earth to carve a hand from the woman’s body and feed it to Vhagar on his return to the Crownlands. 

“But! He had one eye!” Ryver called after the disappearing peasant. 

A shiver dripped down Aemond back like a bead of sweat on a hot day, his body defensively braced himself for a jest at his own expense. 

“Everyone here seems to think,” Lyn turned and shouted across the lawn, “that the prince was born with only one eye! So, perhaps, have your tale at the ready for your…situation,” Lyn mimed his injury with her giddy hands. 

She was too far away for a sword, but Aemond was sure he could hit her if he pried the bow from the little boy Lord’s hands. 

In reality, Aemond was greeted by the stare of Haronfall boys who seemed to think the peasant woman had a point to make. 

Aemond could feel Vhagar rushing through him, she was far from this place, instantly disliking the frigid swamp mess. The easiest option would be to cart the nonbelievers to his dragon, but he knew he would be too tempted to order Vhagar to feast upon them before taking to the skies to burn the village to the ground. 

It seemed that the truth was taken as fact relatively quickly, with little questioning. Both Lord Ryver Erenford and Ser Waltel Frey seemed to ponder a vague memory of their fathers reading a message over dinner, some years ago, regarding the tale.  

It seemed that the lowborn, lord, peasant men and the helmet clad child believed him long enough for supper and a bed, though he was growling unsure he even wanted that.

— 

Prince Aemond had never been to such a disorderly affair, seated as one of many at a large cypress table that curved around the hall. The food was served in no rememberable order, plates of meats and desserts lingered together on the table. 

Lord Ryver regaled his guests with the grand tale, depicted on the keep’s newest addition to the tapestry gallery. In the threads it told the story of renowned warrior, The Red Ryver, and House Erenford’s defeat of some Rivermen, somewhere. Even Ryver’s younger brother, little Lord Robyn, was featured, wearing the iron he has refused to remove for the past six moons and his miniature bow. 

Aemond watched as the help gathered around the table, listening to Ryver climb upon the hall’s table to reenact memorable battle moments.

The servants were dressed in an array of clothing clothes and fabrics, as if the group had been bandied together for this night alone. Most of the maids wore a grey dress fit for a child, the length only reaching to their mid-calf. Aemond had a mind to walk back to Vhagar and never leave the comfort of King’s Landing again, Cinda could fetch her own surprise. 

Aemond did not make himself sick from wine and exotic liquors often, but this was a specific situation he wished to forget his memories as he went about making them. 

—

There was dancing after the meal, and the maids joined in on that as well, acting as if they were High Born ladies, dancing with visiting lords and 

Lyn stepped out of the overly warm keep, to get a deep breath of the fresh night air. It smelled of rotting plants and decaying leaves, like the smell of new life sprouting from under every stone. She noticed that she was not alone. 

“I see we both needed time away,” she said to the figure, clad in leathers like he was ready to ride away given the slightest reason. 

The prince had just excused himself to be sick on the grassed levee fortifying against the encroaching swamp. 

Prince Aemond scoffed at the girl, his mouth foal with the taste of wine and sick. The peasant girl’s skirts were riding even higher on her legs from the dancing, her leggings as disappeared hours ago as the temperature of the kitchens rose and warmed the entire keep. She looked like someone begging for his coin. 

“Hello, Greyscale,” he retorted, his mind shifting to the quick insult. 

“Hello, Cripple,” Lyn barely tolerated the language from her friend and employer, this man would get no sympathy. 

Aemond did not like that. He did not like a single moment. His skin lit up in a drunken daze as if he were standing on guard for a fight. His hazy mind did not know where he had placed his weapons. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully was interrupted, for he would not have been able to swallow his sick back into his stomach in that moment.

“Listen closely, Silver-boy,” Lyn began, as Aemond gripped the hilt of an imagined dagger. 

“As I am sure you are well aware,” he started. The moon was mostly full in the sky, but the torchlight of the terrace was not enough to see his lavender eyes sway drunkenly as they attempted to focus. “Your brothers have visited here. Three times now, I’d wager.” 

“What?” That made no sense to Aemond, as his mind reeled to Cinda. Had she charged Daeron and Aegon into her mission? She would never do that to him. 

“And I think it only fair, seeing that the last Targaryen Princeling to weasel their way into these walls stole a favored sword of the Lord Erenford!” Lyn’s tale weaved itself. She was sure Haronfall had been the talk from the North to the Vale after the beating Ryver’s Lord Father gave him after that. 

“I just think,” Lyn continued, “That after the feast, you should just take your leave. Lord Erenford need not know of this feasts guest of honor.” 

“I will not be ordered about by some–“ Aemond was sick again. 

“You’ve filled your belly, just leave quietly,” Lyn laughed at his misfortune, “It was smart of you to come during the King’s nameday celebrations. The Septas told us of the King’s nameday and all of his grand plans. And I would assume…” Lyn moved closer, clasping her hands behind her back. “…That you knew Lord Ryver would be left alone and… vulnerable, with Lord Erenford traveling to the capital…where I would assume the true prince is,” Lyn enjoyed immensely being right. “–celebrating his own father’s nameday?”

Never in Aemond’s life had he needed to prove his lineage, it had been clearly written on his face and stitched into his clothing. The green of House Hightower was as thick in his veins as the blood of dragons. And yet here, he was some imposter.

And he was growing tiered of this ruse he was seeming to play. He was growing tiered and perhaps too drunk. It reminded him far too much of the time a young Aegon recruited the Reach Girls and his cousins to pretend that he had been rendered invisible for weeks on end one boring winter in their shared youth. 

“Fine!” Aemond had been many things in his life, he had been a failure, a twat, an annoyance, a disappointment, but never…no one. “Fine! I shall leave! Just stop with the ceaseless tales, of rivers and princes! My head is spinning.” He could walk to Vhagar and leave this place and no one would never know or believe that a real prince had graced their halls.

It could have been the wine, or the company, but Aemond could not prevent a laugh when regarding his current fate. 

“I’m glad that you agree,” Lyn was pleased. “I was a good plan. Little Robyn even believes he saw your dragon fly above the keep.” The deep breath of the night air carried with it something that she had only smelled somewhere in the memory, that she could not place. 

Aemond could not stand the taste of sick in his mouth and fished a forgotten fruit from his coats pockets. 

“What is that?” Lyn asked.

“What?” Aemond asked, as the woman pointed to what he was idly palming between his hands. 

“Is it something for your dragon?” she laughed.

“This?” he asked, “is an orange.” Aemond was sure he recalled his mother telling a story about it being one of his first words as a babe. 

“An orange? Like the fruit?” she asked.

“Yes, you imbecile.” 

“Well, where did it come from? Was it a gift from The Twins? Ryver has never–– it seems so–“ The wine rushed through Lyn’s system, and the beautiful smell embolden her. 

“No, I thought it for my travels,” he quipped. “I am glad of it. I was not aware the Riverlands to be such a dreadfully barren place” 

“The land is plenty fruitful here, when it wants to be,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Now, give it here, I want to try it.” 

The fantasy played through Aemond’s head that it pulled a smile onto the corners of his face. The image of himself offering her the fruit, and just as it graced her palm, he would use his entire strength to throw it into the fucking swamp. His glorious vision was interrupted by the disappointed eyes of his mother. Her furrowed brows were too vivid from much wine. Aemond groaned and handed over the mysterious fruit.

Lyn inhaled loudly, the smell like she had never experienced before. It filled her nostrils and woke up her blood. 

Aemond’s hand twitched slightly as she prepared an opened mouth bite into the skin. His hands were then crossed under his arms. 

“Is it safe to eat?” she asked, stepping forward to eye him in the dim lamplight. Aemond felt the stone wall of the terrace against his leather clad back. 

“No, it’s poison, I will gladly watch you die.” 

Her laugh sounded like a pigs snort. Her smile was quickly replaced with a scowl as her teeth peeled a thick membrane of skin into her mouth. “It’s–delicious,” she forced herself to say, open mouth chewing the bitter bite. 

“No! You fool,” he wrenched the fruit back before she could cover it in any more of her bile. “It must be peeled first.” 

Aemond was so glad of the dark night’s lack of light upon their shadowed corner of the terrace as the woman spit the bitter taste into the dirt. The Prince nearly dropped the orange in disbelief of a lady performing such a disgusting act. 

She laughed at him once again. 

“Here!” He huffed, as he had picked away the disgusting bits. His bare fingers gripped the dripping fruit as he held it out as an offering. 

The blood drained from his body and disappeared deep inside of him at the contact of her tongue on the tips of his fingers as she took the fruit from his offered hand with her mouth. Aemond had not been aware of the deep breath that had been held up inside his lungs, but they emptied as the girl’s eyes flashed in the torchlight, the color of honey passed before a flame. The prince watched the endless dance of emotions over her face as she experienced the flavors for the first time. 

“Its a mess!” The fluttered giggle that left her made him offer another piece without thinking, and she took it the same way. 

He responded somewhere between a right and a yes as he tried to memorize the coloring and ridges and valleys of her face, as if he would need it later to solve a life threatening puzzle. He wanted to lick the juice that he had watched drip down from her chin, to the place under her clothes. 

He felt things under his own clothes stir. 

“Come swim with me,”

“What?”

“Its the least you can do after eating all the food I helped prepare,” she said, beaconing him away from the terrance and into the expanse of the night. “A prince would be in want of a bath, I am sure,” she laughed, for she nor any other servant would be prepared to carry water up stairs after a feast like tonight. 

Aemond allowed himself to be led away. His hands still grasp around an imaginary dagger, at the prospect of her robbing him blind. 

“I do not plan to steal your virtue, princeling” Lyn’s words had a drunken edge in their own right. She did not often partake in wine, as it was not offered to her as it could take away from the Septas reserves. 

Aemond’s hand released the dagger that had never been there, as his eyes played their way over her body as he followed her into the moonlight. He played the scenes of her trying to overtake him and none seemed to have purchase. Unless she attacked him with a stone, but Aemond was sure his arms were longer. This had not been the first time since they met that he had imagined choking her. 

“So, where are you from?” Lyn asked, flexing her lady-like conversational skills that Aeditya spoke so highly of. Lyn allowed him some time to answer, as they maneuvered past a precarious log. 

“A Valyrian bastard,” he replied, just like his nephews. “I hail from Dragonstone. It is an isle in the mouth of Blackwater Bay. Near the capital.” He got close enough to see her face in the dark, adding on more information until he found recognition take root. 

“Could you see the palace, from your isle?” she sounded eager to be fed more.

“From my own palace?” he felt something inside of him at her gasp. 

“Did you really live in a palace?” 

Aemond could not begin to guess what she had been imagining, but he liked watching the wheels turn in her mind. “When I was a boy,” he did not want to get too far from her now. 

“What was it like? Could you simply ask for an orange and it would be fetched for you?” He nodded until she continued. “And there would just be oranges in the kitchens? And what if the kitchens run out? Would they–“

“They would be punished severely,” he added, strangely not enjoying her new gasp as much. “But–“ he had to think quickly to play her throat like an instrument. “We could never run out of oranges, they grow on the island.” She enjoyed this more, he enjoyed when she licked her fingers at the lingering taste. “Giant orange bushes, all along the ocean’s edge, too many to ever eat in all the feasts of the year.” 

She touched him with her next astonished laugh.

“And when you needed clothes they would clean it? And when you wanted a bath…would they bathe you?” her last words were a whisper, a topic proper ladies should not be speaking about.

The Septas and girls of the House of the Faith all bathed together. It was a cloister of women, no one had anything to hide. And Lyn had once heard Lord Erenford state that men should not sit in stagnant water, it unaligned the humors. 

“Yes,” Aemond whispered back. “They would bathe me every day.” 

“Would they only bathe you? Or would there be–?” 

Aemond licked his lips as he watched the moonlight dance on the dipped juice along her chin. “Would there be what?” he could barely hear himself speak over his heart beating. “What could they have done?” he played dumb, he could smell the orange on her breath. 

“They would have…” Lyn eyed his lips, his eyes far too towering above her head. She guessed that he liked being tall. Lyn could not help but laugh. “… they would have stolen your virtue!” 

“The servants did not bathe me!” He admitted, rolling his eyes at her naivety. “They were servants, they only fetched water.” 

Aemond would mow anyone down with his sword if they overlord the ‘wow’ that left his lips as the girls twirled in the moonlight. 

“We are here!” she announced, it seemed to be a river. 

“Turn around! It is too dark to see anything!” she called, her hands moving to unclasp her work clothes. 

“If it it too dark, when why must I turn around?” 

“Valyrian gentlemanly duty?”

He turned without much fuss until he heard her body splash into the water. He had been a gentleman and not looked, he had given his word. 

His eyes fell on her discarded clothes and drifted to her swimming form. He did not know the state of her, but from the pile she left behind it didn’t seem she have many options to be left wearing. 

“Now you turn around,” he ordered, as he kicked off his shoes. 

He watched her turn, not knowing when to stop himself in his state of undress. 

Aemond watched as her head turned over her shoulder. He undressed completely and wadded into the water. He had not taken a breath the entire time. The water was warmer than he expected.

They spoke about the sky, and the weather, and whatever other topics that flattered them, their distance ebbed and flowed like the tides, inching closer to one another and then pulling away. 

“Ryver is a bastard?” Aemond asked, his toes could feel the bottom of the lake if he put his mind to it. 

“No. Ryver is the first true born child of Lord and Lady Erenford,” Lyn explained. “But, little Lord Robyn is the heir because Lord Ryver was born…as Lady Ryver.” 

There was a pause in the air as Aemond let it all sink in. 

“The Lord Erenford allowed it, and all will be well as long as Robyn lives to inherit after their father dies.” 

“And if not?” Aemond asked.

“Lord Erenford’s brother does not approve of…any of it. And he is next in line after Robyn. But! Even before then, The Red Ryver wishes for a Keep all his own. ‘Feast Keep’ he calls it. A place where all and everyone are welcome. Fortified to withstand any threads from his uncle and…those would you see them all hang. Away fro the Septas…”

“Away from King’s Landing,” Aemond added, understanding her meaning, forgetting his imagined birthplace. He turned his body in the water to face her. 

His hands floating in the water to support himself, just as she did the same in the moonlight. He had washed his mouth out of the water many times over, he smelled her beautiful orange breath, assuming his own was foul. The orange juices had been long wiped away, but Aemond will imagined her lips would taste of sweetness.

He was brought back to reality when she spit a mouthful of water into his face. 

“That’s disgusting!”

“We’re in a lake,” she shrugged one arm above the waterline. 

Aemond eye was at the water’s edge when he saw the moonlight glisten off the skin on her bare shoulders. She had marks there too. He wondered where else on her body she had them. He watched her skin disappear below the water, like a beaconing ancient puzzle. 

“You’re disgusting.” Perhaps for the first time in his life, he did not mean that has an (entire) insult. 

“And you’re a liar,” she pointed out. 

Aemond enjoyed being a low-born, if only because he knew it was entirely temporary. He let out a laugh and a breath at a realization he had yet to make. 

“You’re naked with a liar,” he whispered, if he could see her bare shoulders then what else could she be wearing. 

“Well!” she laughed, “You are to, I’d say.” 

“But–“ That was entirely different.

“Because I’m a girl,” she barked back.

Aemond swam after her. 

“–a woman,” she corrected. “A lady, even!” 

“You are no lady,” he was enjoy this game that he could not tell you last time he had ever been angry. 

“How would you know?” she teased. 

“Because–” they had stoped swimming, just treading water, his toes dipped to the pebbled floor if he covered his nose. She was close enough to touch. Aemond reached his hand out and brushed her bare waist. “I’ve met ladies, and they would never be so–” 

Did she not notice his touch to not flinch away? Or did she simply not care? There was no word for this feeling. He had felt it above the clouds, away from the red keep, and now between his toes in the muck. 

“Ladylike?” she offered.

Aemond watched as her her hand breached the water, like she was trying to not frighten her prey, and rested itself atop his shoulder. 

“What are ladies like?” she repeated herself, after her second hand touched his shoulders. He had not heard her the first time. 

“They must…” he tried to remember anything else that wasn’t here, in this lake, under his moon. “Beautiful, and well-read. They should sing, and dance, be pious, but not overly-so. Painting, embroidery…drawing, even, an art is important for ladies to be accomplished with.” 

Lyn was surprised there was even more.

“She should know her histories, and geographies, and sums so she might not bleed her husband’s purse dry. And, there is just something about her,” he almost sighed, “in her manner, and walk. Her air should be build to maintain her husband’s social and political alliances.”

“All at once?” She removed her hands from his shoulders. “All the time?” Lyn could not help but laugh.

“Not all the time, but yes! All at once! Some try and many fail,” he scoffed. 

“You seem pleased with the failures of women,” she mocked, stretching herself backwards to wade towards the shallow edge. Her back arched and she felt cold air on her chest.

There was a pause in Aemond as his brain worked, a whisper brushed against his mind that reminded him of Aegon. “…What women?” he asked, closing the distance between them. 

Lyn was pleased, this time, she wrapped her arms around his neck, not close enough to touch him. She nodded her head, and he copied, she shook it and he did too. 

“Good boy.” It was as quiet as the wind. He could stand easily, and palmed her waist with a sigh. 

There was a long silence.

“…have you…?” she asked, he felt it in his chest, as if she had said it in any worldly tongue he would have known what she was asking. 

“Yes. Once. A long time ago.” The words came out, slowly, one at a time, but it was said. “My brother, took me to a brothel on my thirteen nameday. And…never again.”

“Oh,” she only said, her tone dipped in sadness at the edge of the sound.  

“Have you?” his brow furrowed, in a genuine question. He had never given much thought to the purity of lowborns.

“No,” she answers firmly. “…yes,” but she corrected. “He…It wasn’t my…” she sighed into the story, never having told it before. “Last winter,” it had been over a past year, “A friend got sick, the Septas wanted us to pray but, she a needed medicine, and there was a man…and he was very handsome…so I…got the coin…” She picked her fingers behind his back. “But at least…I did not lie to a Riverlord for a free meal?” 

“But aren’t you worried the Septas will check you?” Aemond heard her attempt to make light, but ignored it. 

“I don’t think they can tell,” she answered.

“What?”

“I grew up with girls, and some went out and…had their fun, and some were taken before getting there, and some swore to have never and…I think the Septas feel what they want to fell.”

“So you think they're lying about it all?”

“Maybe!” 

“You think everyone is lying,” he teased. 

“Perhaps, sometimes, they are!” 

He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, but she stopped him.

“Come sit on the dock with me,” she motioned, they were back where they started. Her hands gripped and pulled herself out of the water in one fluid motion, to sit atop the dock, bare as when she was submerged. 

Aemond watched the watch drip from her hair down her neck and disappear into the shadows of the night, if only he could see in the dark. He was at her knees, standing in the waist deep waters, he could rest his chin on the dock if he liked. He liked his lips and place his hands on the girl’s knees. 

“Have you ever seen a lady like this?” Lyn asked, she shoulders swayed in the sticky night air and her should feel her breasts shake as they lay on her crossed legs. 

He shook his head in answer. 

“What about this?” she asked, moving her hands with her knees and she spread her legs wide, exposing her cunt to him. 

She had something else snarky to saw, but Aemond did not hear it. The moon and the stars would not support his endeavors to drown in the sight of her. Where his hands had been idle before, he gripped her knees to pull her further spread before him. 

“What are you–?” 

He was close enough he could almost…His tongue licked up her core and she played him music with her voice. He moaned into her as his tongue explored the raised flesh where her opening met. His tongue circled whines and moans around the bundle of nerves until he kissed her clit with his lips and didn’t let go. He suckled the bud, as he had wanted to suckle hard nipples of bellowing beasts in his sick fantasies. Her hands are in his hair, Aemond would not be freed from his prize, leaving Lyn to fist his hair like reins of a saddle. Her moans were shaking her entire body.

His finger played at her entrance. “Have you ever touched yourself?” he finally relented, for his desperate question. 

“No!” she shook her body. “It’s…messy and wet and,” she could never bring herself to do it, and he did not let her finish. 

His two fingers sank in, “You are wet.” She spread her own legs now, bucking against him as he returned to lapping at her clit while he coiled his fingers in side of her. “And messy,” he pumped in and out, his free hand twisting her nipple in his hand. He had never seen it gentle, but she clasped both hands over her own mouth to scream. 

Aemond felt her clenching around him fingers as his mouth continued its attack. She bucked and tried to press her legs together, but he would not allow it. “Ahhhg!” she moaned, into the air, and slowly her quakes came to and end. 

“Stop, stop…please–” she panted, her back layer against the dock. 

Aemond did not like his lack of a view, and joined her on the platform, his own breath panting as he studied her face like a treasured map. She breathed, and her chest rose up and down, the water had dried from her skin but dripped from her hair. Aemond’s hands were firmly planted on the dock besides him, not wanting to touch something to fragile that she might run away. 

“My turn,” she finally said, sitting up and catching his lips in a kiss. He had tried kissing before, but not often, mostly in games of children who could still play innocent. His mouth opened slightly and her tongue licked at the entrance. 

He moaned into her as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. Lyn nipped at his lips lightly as she began to pump him, she could feel his skin tighten with every stroke, growing longer, and wider, filling her hand.

His mouth was useless for her kisses, she licked his tongue as his mouth hung open in pleasure. Aemond’s head found the crook of her neck and moaned into her skin. Her free hand fingered the strands of his silver locks. He was a shivering mess as he pumped his hips into her firm palm. 

“Mmm,” he moaned as her free hand found his balls, palming them with every trust of her hand. He matched her pace and trust himself with her, she breathed heavy in his ear to match the pace. 

“Lyn!” a voice called out from the darkness.

“What?” she shouted back, the loudest and sweetest sound Aemond had ever heard.

“Where are you? It is the Hour of the Owl! We must be going!” The ghost voice cursed them. 

She moaned. “I am coming! I shall be there! Away! Please!” she begged.

Aemond had lost his pace, his head was shaking, he could not do this anymore. 

“Wait,” Lyn hushed him, “Shh, shh, wait.” She was assuring, her strokes still strong as she could feel him hardening into her hand again. 

“Let me,” she moved herself to between her legs and lowered her face to his cock. Her tongue starting at his base and licked up to twirl his head around her lips. She peppered kissed down his length as her hand returned to stroke him. Her kissed reached the base and went lower, kissing and sucking in the skin of his balls as he trust himself into her hands. He did not last long, the naked girl with her mouth on his cock. He trust and whine and pumped and he could hear her laughing and sucking and breathing and he came shaking on his chest. 

They breathed together, and their breathing turned to laughter. Their discarded clothes still in the same pile it was forgotten. 

“You’re called Lyn?” he said, praying to whatever god allowed him to remember her name. “I’m called–“ she interrupted him with a finger over his mouth.

“I don’t care,” she said, kissing his cheek and disappearing into the darkness, leaving Aemond a mess of himself.

//authors note – thank you SO MUCH for reading! This is the first project Im posting that I am proud of. It is barely edited, so I will eventually work on that. But, this is the beginning of a story worked out well. Plenty of twists and turns to come! I am always here for encouraging words, fic recs, headcanons, questions, and anything else~

My work on this fic inspired THIS POST. I’m just fascinated at HBO’s lack of “courtly ladies”, especially in a family where sisters are born to marry their brothers. So, I changed that and made some angsty mean girls to make fetch happen

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

since it's pride month, i want to highlight my favorite underrated/underappreciated queer characters and ships! (part 1/???)

(feel free to add more!)

Lake - Infinity Train (non-canon)

it's not canon but you cannot tell me that Lake isn't an allegory for trans/nb people. her arc is so beautiful and her character resonates with me so much!

i have to admit, i actually kinda hated her in the beginning because of how aggressive and rude she was, but she actually gets good character development and you can also understand why she was the way she was, being a good representation of a minority who is constantly suffering because of the social norms she’s forced into. also i don’t ship her with jesse but i do like the idea of them in a qpr or just being platonic besties.

(i use she/her pronouns for Lake because that's what they use in the series, but also because not all non-binary people use they/them, and it's kinda weird to see people insist on using they/them for Lake just because she's nb-coded. she has never shown an aversion to bring referred to with she/her pronouns.)

Le Chevre x El Topo - Carmen Sandiego (canon)

they are side characters who don't play a huge role in the narrative but they are a really cute couple and have been confirmed to be canon! even without the confirmation, it’s clear that they were written to be a romantic couple.

mild spoiler: after the series ends, they stop being antagonists and instead put up a food truck together! it’s the cutest thing, i swear

Ryan x Min-gi - Infinity Train (non-canon)

my OTP through and through! i say non-canon but the romance is so heavily implied, you cannot ignore it.

they're a good example of childhood friends who had a complicated relationship where both individuals did something wrong, but in the end, they grow as people and manage to mend their relationship together.

Moomin x Snufkin - Moominvalley (canon)

i have only read one of the books and watched a few clips of these two characters but from that alone, it's clear that they were written as lovers (and the author is queer too!)

they are a beautiful portrayal of long-distance relationship where both individuals have different needs in life, but still want to be with each other regardless.

Terrestrius / Terry - The Dragon Prince (canon)

Terry is canonically transmasc and they actually manage to explain this in the series, without making it sound too forced or expository. he's such a sweetheart too, and his relationship with Claudia is actually really sweet, despite the fact that she's one of the villains.

Carmen x Julia - Carmen Sandiego (non-canon)

again, i say non-canon but it is heavily implied that they have feelings for each other, especially in the extra interactive episode, where Carmen leaves a bouquet of red roses for Julia, and Julia is shown to blush when receiving them.

Amaya x Janai - The Dragon Prince (canon)

what’s that? it’s actually possible to write an enemies to lovers romance that is healthy and not extremely abusive?

Amaya and Janai have such a good relationship in S5 (and Amaya is also a great disabled representation!) Janai actually learns sign language to communicate with Amaya, and there are no unnecessary miscommunication plots or drama, they’re just a really loving wlw couple.

Benson x Troy - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (canon)

when i say we need more mlm ships in animated media!! i’m so glad us sapphics are getting a lot of representation but it’s time cartoons started including more queer men.

benson and troy are just a really sweet couple with a good relationship that doesn’t have a ton of pining or unnecessary angst. while i love complex and tragic queer relationships, i also think that it’s good to show teenagers just being teenagers sometimes.

this opinion seems to be scarce in the queer community, which really annoys me tbh.

Raine x Eda - The Owl House (canon)

i cannot believe that given the popularity of TOH, Raeda is still such an overlooked ship. this might be an unpopular opinion but Raeda is better written and has more chemistry than Lumity and Huntlow.

just within the span of Raine's introductory episode, they managed to establish a clearly romantic past between these two characters, and also an interesting dynamic. and even though they didn't have much screentime, they still turned out to be the best ship in the series. (again, just my opinion, don't come at me)

i think it's so important to show older queer people in media, just as it is important to show younger queer characters. it helps establish the fact that queerness has always existed and isn't some newfound trend that social media invented. not to mention, raeda is one of the very few canon ships that include a non-binary character.

[sitronsangthoughts]

You write a series of books about a fantastical, magical community. The community is plagued by prejudice. Some people in it wish to exclude those who haven't been part of it since birth. As this ultra-conservative movement worms its way into the media and government, the hate campaign escalates to systematic attempts to eradicate the "undesirables". The heroes of the story have to fight against these old and cruel ideas to make the community safe for everyone, regardless of their childhood or background. In fact, your self-insert character (an audience favorite) is one of the people targeted by the discrimination and violence. The story deals heavily with the dangers of political propaganda, with how a biased media can skew the truth and vilify those who get too critical in the eyes of the masses, and how those who are different in some way are so often misunderstood, even feared. The books are an unprecedented success, near-universally beloved for their fundamental message: the circumstances of your birth do not determine who you are or where you belong. Forge your own path, stand up for the downtrodden and excluded, and choose love over hate.

Then you go on to become the face of the movement against basic rights for trans people.

[megaderping]

I think the biggest issue with Naoto discussion is that there are so many intersecting perspectives with very strong feelings involved, and if a Persona 4 remake does happen, I fully suspect that Atlus is going to have their hands full figuring out how to handle the character in the modern day. First there's the cultural context of misogyny in the workplace and especially in the legal and justice systems in Japan, which informs Naoto's character a lot. It is important to consider this, as this was a Japanese game made in 2008 at a time where queer visibility wasn't nearly as prominent, but that alone doesn't invalidate criticism to the arc's execution, regardless of creator intention. A big point of contention is how the arc was handled. Specifically the way it uses talk of body alteration procedures, surgical equipment, and treats the idea of transition as scary. If you consider how draconian the laws behind legally transitioning in Japan are, you can perhaps make a case for why it might cause Naoto internal conflict as complete surgical transition/sterilization/diagnosis were all requirements at the time of the game's development and only recently were declared unconstitutional. Though, as this excellent video pointed out, it's possible this was meant to be a reference to the story Flowers for Algernon, given the weapon you get if you return there later. However, even if that was the intent, transgender people exist in Japan and have since well before Persona 4, and anime such as The Dirty Pair aired in the 80's with very progressive takes on transness. It's very unlikely that the team behind Persona 4 was completely unaware of queer issues and symbolism, given that Persona 3 had that infamous transphobic joke in the original version's babe hunt.

The Dirty Pair, a 1985 anime that was surprisingly progressive.

I think the issue, more than anything, is that the tropes at play don't exist in a vacuum and what comes after Naoto's dungeon raises a lot more red flags. Jokes about Naoto's chest size, the narrative framing Kanji's crush as only acceptable after the reveal, on top of the uncomfortable execution of the romance route in Naoto's Social Link. You get so much "Naoto is actually a girl" in a way where it's other characters talking about/over Naoto, which is what really makes the framing off putting to a lot of people, myself included. And it's not even that you can't do an arc about a female character fighting against prejudiced preconceptions in the criminal justice field without controversy, because Persona 5 pulled this off far less contentiously.

Sae Niijima deals with many similar themes but doesn't seem nearly as contentious, and I think a large part of that is due to Sae openly presenting as a woman from the start. The game openly depicts the misogyny from Sae's superiors and coworkers, such as how she's unmarried and fighting an uphill battle for success in a male-dominated field. Persona has toyed with these ideas in the aftermath of Persona 4 and even when revisiting older titles. Persona 2 went back and added the character of Shiori Miyashiro in the PSP release, a lady detective who has a lot in common with Naoto (e.g. knowingly endangering oneself to get the truth behind a supernatural case). It's also astonishing that we have Lala Escargot in Persona 5, which also had that infamous gay couple that played into horrible stereotypes that were only slightly fixed in royal's international release. Lala, whether trans or a drag queen, is given surprising respect, and her identity is never called into question. A Persona 4 remake could learn from this and cut back on the characters asserting what Naoto feels, what Naoto "really is," etc, and let Naoto and Naoto alone decide. Ultimately, Naoto means different things to different people, and these things can carry great personal weight and importance. Many trans and nonbinary Persona fans see themselves in Naoto. Others favor Naoto as some flavor of gnc or find Naoto embracing femininity and detective work empowering. I think the problem is that when this topic comes up, there's a lot of hostility. Trans fans and people who favor trans Naoto get told to shut up at best, and at worst get hit with shit tons of transphobia and gross conduct. On the other hand, I don't think people who prefer more canon-compliant depictions of Naoto are inherently malicious. It's how they approach these discussions and treat people that makes a difference. Just because someone uses she/her for Naoto doesn't mean they're being intentionally transphobic, but I totally get people wanting to avoid material that uses those pronouns all the same. I also don't think people are wrong to be uncomfortable with the resolution of Naoto's arc in canon. I think people who get upset when fanworks go with trans or NB interpretations of Naoto could stand to be more empathetic, as a lot of those fanworks come from people who connected to Naoto and want to explore what could've been. I don't think more canon-compliant fanworks are inherently malicious either, but no one is obligated to stick around works or spaces that make them feel uncomfortable. Tbh, I'm just wondering what Atlus will do. Persona 3 Reload removed that one transphobic joke during the babe hunt in all languages. Persona 5 Tactica had male marriage fantasies for Joker. I think Atlus is trying to be more inclusive, but Persona 3 Reload also kept Toriumi's crush on the protagonist and Chihiro defending student-teacher romances, so it's really unclear how much of Persona 4's more divisive aspects will be retooled. Because it's not just Naoto. Persona 4 has a lot of aspects that haven't aged well, like all the jokes about Kanji being predatory if he's attracted to guys, or Kashiwagi being creepy toward students, or the fatphobia with Hanako while Ebihara's past of being overweight is treated with more sympathy. I love Naoto and Persona 4, but I also think it's important to be able to criticize elements of the game that could be executed better.

[twst-hottest-takes]

I was scrolling back and reading the blog posts on Vil and even tho I do like him I agree that compared to the other overblotters, the problems he is shown to have in his main story chapter are deeply unserious especially when sandwiched between Jamil and Idia's heavier stories. Vil does have something deeper, but for me Book 5's issue was having the wrong priorities of which part of it to make his "main" character struggle/how it was presented😭

What I think would've been a way more interesting and sympathetic focus for his story on would be his implied insecurity with age, particularly being perceived as older that he actually is (when he asks Kalim how old he thought he was, he tells kalim its good he got it right "or else"). If you start counting the birthdays from September, it's actually an interesting ironic detail that Vil would be the youngest junior despite being one of the most "mature". The backstory could've focused more on the adultification that came with being a child actor, and how maybe Vil feels like he has to make the most out of his beauty before he approaches the time limit on his desirability (ingrained into him by the industry as what he's worth for)

This would've added another layer to why he insists Epel make the most out of his "cuteness" and his rivalry with the noticeably more "youthful" type of beautiful Neige. Could possibly also connect to how Jamil had to grow up quickly too (I'm dissapointed at how irrelevant Scarabia duo turned out to be in Book 5 lol). It would've also made his sacrifice in Book 6 to save Idia (turning into an old man) hit harder, as well as make Book 5 a better build up to the themes of mortality in Book 6 and 7.

Though even when making adjustments to improve how Vil's backstory is presented in the main story, Vil being a conventionally attractive rich white guy with a present and supportive family in canon still makes his struggle with "feeling like I'm never be my best" feel... contrived? and unnecessary victimization for lack of better words. This is why I personally think the transfem headcanon or headcanons where he's a POC also improve his character since the experience and why he feels the need to be the best despite what he's already achieved have another layer to it (since twst's intent is to make the overblotters sympathetic still). I know twst is fantasy so technically it doesn't need to represent real politic correctness etc. but for me this is less preaching and choosing how to set up your characters in the most meaningful ways possible

Everyone is still free to like Vil's character regardless of course (I like vil which is why I yapped about all this) but yeah I'm sad about the wasted potential of a character like him😭

A fine addition to that conversation if I may say so.

Coming from someone who doesn't like Vil in the slightest, I think that you've presented a really good way to tie his character arc in chapter 5 together. If Vil just had more cohesive writing between his habits, motivations, and backstory, he'd be a lot more compelling. I won't harp on this because I think Anon explained themselves very well here and I've already talked about how underwhelming Vil's writing in chapter 5 is at length. Always good to hear a different solution to the same problem though.

Kudos for this one!

Thank you for your take.

(Also, completely valid reasons for enjoying Vil reimagined as trans or POC in fanworks.)

[mayxo-hxh]

Do you think hisoillu romantic relationship would be confirmed more explicitly in the future in the manga?

I have read this very interesting post for killugon about how togashi Never leave thing vaguely / ambiguous and always confirmed the romance between queer characters, but in hisoillu case even if illumi said they were engaged, there still a lot of people who always repeat the excuse of («THiS Is jUsT fOr ThE mOnEy») even thought to togashi purposely shoose specific romantic word to describe It… this is why I wonder if you think we would be have additional elements who will confirme more explicitly their loves later in the manga?

I don't think so.

As the killugon post had mentioned, Togashi is all abt subtlety especially when it comes to hunter x hunter. Meruem and Komugi never came outright and said that they love each other. Alluka never came outright and said shes trans. and Hisoka and Illumi arent going to come outright to say they love each other.

You will ALWAYS have people that deny the existence of queer relationships/characters regardless of media. Even if you had Hisoka and Illumi kiss on camera, there is always going to be the people saying "This isnt illumi actually, its someone else in disguise!" or "Hisoka definitely manipulated him!" or "it wasnt actually a love kiss it was just obligation!" You'll never truly be free from queer erasure.

THE most explicit thing that could have been done in hisoillus relationship was to loudly and boldly announce their marriage, which Togashi did. And just like you said, people still grasp at straws to deny their relationship's existence. Thats just how its always going to be. You can easily debunk every single excuse they give you with full proof and evidence, and they still wouldn't care. The mistranslation excuse was debunked by a japanese speaking person ages ago with photo evidence and explanations and people will still call it mistranslation. They don't care about whats canon or what isn't, they only care about erasing queer characters from the media.

I think hisoillu specifically being unpopular as queer characters is because of the fact that theyre shitty people and the antagonists of the main lovable characters. Most people don't want to touch Hisoka with a ten inch pole and Illumi by association. But if you actually care and pay half a braincell to focus on their characters and interactions, you'd find that its undeniable that they've always favored each other in each and every single interaction they've had when they never do so with other people.

What I do think will be shown in the future of the manga is hisoillu's explicit collaboration against the troupe on the black whale and more of them working together in the future. Maybe they'll even mention the fact that Hisoka is part of the Zoldyck family now and it'll be acknowledged by other Zoldycks. But thats about it. And that's all we'll ever need, really. Let people cry and delude themselves all they want, but we as hisoillu fans should not need more than that to know whats canon and whats not.

The only way i see them being "more" explicitly confirmed as romantic in the future is if togashi had enough of bitches whining about it and straight up goes himself "is it not obvious" when someone asks him about hisoillus romantic relationship lmfao

[connorsnothereeither]

okay wait i am confused is virgil canon trans or no or open 2 interpretation ?

Honestly, that’s valid, I feel like the comments I made about it on stream were more confusing than I intended them to be 😅

I think, personally, I would consider it canon that Virgil is transmasc, yes.

It wasn’t the original intent with his character, and it’s not a big part of his character traits in any way, but personally, as the creator, yeah I think he is. He wasn’t created as a transmasc-character, but he is a character I think is transmasc, if that distinction makes sense? Regardless he’s certainly not cis, since he uses he/they pronouns.

I think in the moment, my hesitation in just saying “yes” stemmed from the fact that as a (somewhat) cis-presenting amab person, I didn’t want to just be slapping on the idea that he was trans after the fact as a “fun quirky character trait” because I was afraid it would come off disingenuous? But realistically, there is a lot of Virgil which is an extension of myself, and that exploration of gender presentation and identity through him is personally very genuine, and I think in hindsight I am more confident in saying yes, with the clarification that Virgil’s story is not about him being trans in any way, and isn’t particularly affected by it at all, but it is canon.