#anyways how are you doing anon. having a good day?
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bunnygirllover45 · 1 day ago
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Hii!! I’m kinda obsessing over the Idea of Johann before he kidnapped his darling, going out to buy clothes and him just enjoying it WAY more than Darling. Like bro’s INTO it, picking out dresses and making darling do a fashion show for him?? Just wanted to put this thought out there lol. Idk if he’d actually do that but I can dream,,,, Anyways that’s all— thank you!!!!
Anon you're into some shit rn and I totally agree with you. Johann would do that 100%. TW: Darling had a past relationship that wasn't too nice, mentions of body insecurity, hints of dollification but it's Johann who are we talking about this is obvious by now.
Your past relationship before Johann wasn't the best, you weren't used to him buying you stuff so carelessly or taking you every other day. At first, it was a little hard to get accustomed to the sudden change, but eventually, you started to like it. Except for the part where you and he had to go to the clothing store. Each time Johann stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of a date to point at a cute outfit sitting in the window of a random store, a part of you internally screamed for him not to drag you inside.
Speaking about that— "You like these? These frills might be itchy on your skin though..." —yes, you were trapped inside another store again. Taking in a deep breath you stared at Johann, then at the dress he was holding. No matter how often you told him you either didn't like this style of clothing or that it wouldn't look good in it, he still made you buy and wear the stuff. Of course, he only made you wear it when both of you were alone, there's no way he'd let you look this adorable in front of someone else.
You wondered how many more clothes he could buy you, after all, even if Johann made sure to visit you almost every day, his job kept him from being with you all the time. Most of the time he kept some of the clothes in his house too, he had a 'special place for them', out of context that phrase could be worrying, but Johann was such a sweetheart behind that stoic exterior that you didn't really question it. As he grabbed another piece of clothing you shot your hands to grab his forearm, squeezing softly as you smiled up to him. "J-Johann, I don't think I'd look good on that. I have many dresses back at home too, you shouldn't buy mo—" But before you could even finish you felt Johann leaning down to whisper against your ear, his voice soft and secretive. "I think you'd look good in anything." the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "I've always wanted to take care of someone as precious as you, would you let me do that?" There was serious longing in his voice. From all the past experiences you had with him, you clearly noticed that ache to fulfill a role that Johann always had. Taking care of you during dates, making sure you didn't get sick, and even aftercare with him was a blissful experience. All the things he told you about feeling empty and without a purpose in life, it's like a part of him has been waiting all this time to have this, to have you. You stood stunned, questioning if you should feel even more embarrassed or prideful, he looked at you with an adoration written in his eyes that made you shiver, and you felt a little guilty at how much you enjoyed it. "Here, we can buy these and try them out at home, how does that sound?" You nodded, giving him a compliant smile as you reached to hug his arm. "Okay... thank you." One hand snaked its way around your waist, squeezing slightly as he kissed you on the top of the head, nuzzling against it. "You're welcome, baby."
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deathbxnny · 8 hours ago
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Loved your writing of arcane characters saying things they regret during an argument. Would you be willing to do a version with Jayce, Viktor and Silco? I apologize if you don't prefer to write about these characters, you can ignore this
Arcane men saying things they'll regret during an argument. | Viktor, Jayce, Silco x Gn!Reader
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Oh, I absolutely am willing to do that, Anon!! These are going to be pretty irredeemable, though, so there is not going to be a part two to this... anyways, enjoy!!<3
Content: Season 2 spoilers!!, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, break ups, swearing, gaslighting, toxic behavior, sfw
Reader has no mentioned pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VIKTOR
"This... isn't you anymore, Viktor. A-And I refuse to keep lying to myself like this either!" You hissed out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. You were losing your mind in this compound of his, unable to understand how seemingly no one was able to recognize how wrong everything was. People who were "healed" by him weren't the same after. They turned into robotic and uncanny husks of their old selves.
A terrifying sight that unnerved you deeply. And only you here.
The nail in the coffin was perhaps the skeptical appearance of Councilor Salo. Never in your life had you ever seen him give a damn about anyone but himself. He lived a life of riches and materialism, far from the selfless and minimalistic lifestyle found here. But after your boyfriend healed him of his inability to walk, he suddenly preached the same ideals that everyone else did.
Peace, love, and community.
Those were the important pillars of this idyllic place Viktor had created, and yet you couldn't see past the clear red flags that weaved themselves in their white attire. You were never much of a genius like he was, but it didn't take much brainpower to understand that this was not a great place to be in. No matter how hard he attempted to convince you of that.
"... I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm afraid I can not follow your reasoning for this claim. I am myself... just someone greater. More meaningful. Isn't that beautiful?" His voice was so gentle and patient in comparison to yours. Something that wasn't unusual to him. But the way he used that tone now made you sick. "Terrifying is a better word, actually... Why can't you see that this is just wrong? You're not healing anyone-" "-But I am. Look around you. Is that not enough for you to finally believe me, my love? I want to create a better world... one in which we can live freely together." Your mind spun, his words ringing in your head dangerously. And you hated every second of it.
This isn't the man you loved anymore. He must have died that fateful day when the sky fell from above, and he covered you with his body to save you. His last act of kindness as your boyfriend and lover before he perished and left behind whoever he was. And you'd be damned if the last good memory got tainted too.
"No. I will not let you play with my mind anymore. I've had enough." You pushed past him, wanting to finally escape this borderline cult. Originally, you had only followed after him because you couldn't bear being without him. Jayce was right, though. He really was different now.
"Hm... it seems like I was right about you after all." You stopped in your tracks yet didn't dare face him. "You truly are not worth saving... you can't grasp the beauty of what I have made. I suppose everyone's claims for your low intelligence were, unfortunately, right. What a shame." How could a devil have such a soothing, loving voice? Why did the monster that now lurked in your shadow have to have your lovers face? The cruelty was too much to bear.
Who would have thought that you'd finally leave him for good after all the years you've taken care of him? This moment felt so surreal and yet ironically freeing as well. The end was near. "Did you... ever even love me?" You asked aimlessly, but didn't wait to hear his answer.
Perhaps if you had, however, you would've seen that sudden spark of surprise in his eyes, as you slipped out of his fingers for good at last.
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》JAYCE
You had looked everywhere for him. And after also asking everyone under the sun if they had seen your boyfriend, you had eventually determined that he must've somehow gone missing. Worried sick, it pained you knowing that there wasn't much you could do either, considering that everyone was too busy getting ready for a borderline war and Caitlyn became unreachable as a result. Yet just as you began to lose hope, your dear lover finally returned... but he wasn't the same.
He didn't look the same, nor did he act the same, in fact. He looked so different that it even visibly startled you when you found him rummaging through his once shared laboratory. You had just returned from another wrap around the building in hopes of finding it, and whilst you'd consider yourself lucky this time around, all you now felt was genuine dread.
"Jayce...? What happened to you? I looked for you everywhere and-" You stilled at the intense look he gave you, his face flinching for a moment, as though his mind couldn't comprehend your image. Glancing over at his peculiar weapon of choice, you felt unnerved at how even that looked uncanny. The entire situation was unnerving you deeply, to say the least. "You... You shouldn't be here." He finally muttered, his voice deeper and colder than it ever was. Jayce always had such a fun and warm voice. If you didn't know any better, you would've questioned who he was a while ago.
"Hey... tell me where you were, okay?" You said, trying a more gentle approach as you neared him, eyes focused on his clearly injured leg. Had he been kidnapped? You doubted it. So what made him end up like this? Nothing you could come with explained his appearance. His hair and beard were way longer than they should have gotten in the short span of time he was gone, too.
Reaching down carefully, you tried to inspect his leg, but he seemed less receptive to the idea. Or so you assumed, after he shoved you away roughly and held the hammer to your face at impressive speed. His eyes were glossy, as though he wasn't entirely all there. He was reliving a terrifying moment in his mind, unaware of the horror you were going through. Never could you have ever thought of ending up in this position with him. "Jayce! What the hell are you doing-?" "-Get away! I know what you are... you've been sent by him too, weren't you?" You let out a shriek when he swung the hammer at you, only giving you a fraction of a second to jump out of the way.
Falling onto your behind, you quickly crawled backward and away from him, tears welling up in your eyes. Your scream seemed to at least wake him up, though, as he finally lowered his weapon and blinked at you in surprise. "Fucks sake! What is wrong with you?" You yelled out, yet as fast as his face softened, it hardened again. "... Sorry... I need to leave." Quickly making his way past you, he only barely escaped your presence before you grabbed onto the fabric of his pants. "Why? Where are you going? Why can't you tell me anything?"
The look in his eyes made you shrink away. This wasn't your Jayce anymore. "... The future of everyone in Piltover hinges on me being there on time. Now, make yourself useful for once and get out of my way." Shaking you off harshly, he left you crying on the cold floor of the once lively laboratory, not once looking back.
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》SILCO
When you first met Silco, you were both still leading simple lives in the last drop with his brother and all of your other friends in Zaun. The lanes were harsh and, at times, cruel, yet you fought through the agony of it all together. Years down the line later, you find yourself still reminiscing on those heavenly days, particularly those of your lover who had turned for the worst in the time being. And the question of why you didn't listen to Vander's warnings came to mind again then. Perhaps you were just too used to excusing everything his brother did, especially after he had attempted to drown him so horrifically, which left him permanently injured.
But even so... why didn't you just listen? Why did it take so many years for you to finally throw the towel and leave for good? Finally realise that the man you loved was a monster? A disgusting and evil monster who was willing to use the plight of others for his own gain. And for what? Money? Fame? Power? It was all an ego trip you had far more than enough of. Zaun was his playground, and an escape was impossible. You'd be, however damned if you didn't at least try to anyways. Even if just in Vander's honor as a long-awaited apology.
Pushing past the crowd in the stuffy, full Last drop, you finally reached his office upstairs. Not caring about formalities anymore, you knocked and opened the door without awaiting a reply. If death met you behind it, then so be it. "Ah, darling, in a hurry today, aren't you?" "We need to talk. Alone." Short and straight to the point. Raising a brow, he shared a look with Jinx, who was just done giving him his daily "medicine". Oh, how you hated your lover's dearest creation. Shimmer. The exact thing that had ruined your lives for good. But you pushed away your disdain for the task at hand.
Giving Jinx a dismissive wave of his hand, you waited for her to be gone for good before taking a breath to speak. But Silco beat you to it. Always so painfully perceptive. "The answer is no, if you're here asking to leave. I refuse to let you go, dear. You have no one else but me after all. You wouldn't survive on your own." He always underestimated you, so this wasn't an all to surprising response. And if you were just a couple of months younger, you would have maybe agreed and backed off. But you were sick of his games.
"I didn't come here to ask for permission, Silco. I'm here to say goodbye." The slightest, softest crack at the last word gave you away horribly. You certainly didn't expect your feelings for the man to betray you, but even that won't stop you now. Said man just hummed in response as he stood up to face the window. His hands calmly lit a cigar, very much unbothered. But you knew that your sentence had gotten to him anyway with how his hand shook ever so slightly. Out of anger, most likely.
"So you think you can do whatever you want? Leave after you've spent so many years at my side? Your hands aren't as clean as you think they are, darling. Even yours are a bright violet." A reference to the shimmer vials on his desk. He knew how much you hated it, so this felt like a jab. A jab at the deep guilt you felt every day for enabling the death of all of your friends indirectly. If only you had stopped him from the start... then maybe you wouldn't have to feel the dread that ruined you from the inside anymore.
"I've accepted my flaws and sins a long time ago. I may not be better than you... but sometimes, in order to end the cycle, you have to walk away and leave some things behind." You suddenly felt so content, his cold and terrible words not reaching you anymore. You were so close to leaving. So close to leaving Zaun and Piltover like you've always dreamed. But Silco just scoffed in disbelief.
"Hah, don't give me that self-righteous shit... I've been there for you for so many years, dear. I've taken care of you, fed you, and loved you to my best ability for so long. The least you could do is be grateful for my kindness." "So you think I'm a burden?" The silence was deafening, but it was enough to confirm your long-standing suspicions. He had lost his love for you a long time ago. Perhaps the side that loved you so purely drowned in the river with him.
"... Goodbye. I hope one day you can walk away too." You turned and began walking out then, suddenly realising that it's finally over. Shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat, you felt the ticket for the skyship you had to take. "Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare it-" All bark and no bite as usual. There was no stopping you now, and he knew it. He was letting you go after all. You could just hope that one day he'd listen to your words and end the cycle, too.
What a shame that you won't be there at his side to see it, however... maybe in another life then.
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megamindsecretlair · 3 days ago
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Hiii girl! Can I make a request for a prequel to I swear I’ll never leave? Something super angsty on how y/n and Terry got to that point in the first place🤍
I Still Don't Want You To Go
Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. ANGST, cursing, teasing, mentions of loneliness, depression, brief mention of harm against a child, bad ass child, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, my mom is distracting me.
Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.
Word Count: 7,801k
AO3 Link | I Swear I'll Never Leave
A/N: WHEW. When I say this hurt MEEE. I'm exposing myself like a MF LOL. I see you sneaky anon, a prequel request. I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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Six years ago…
“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers crooned from your portable speaker on the marble countertop. The smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes filled the kitchen, steam rising from the pot on the stove. You were working on the gravy, tasting as you went. Cadence kicked in your belly and you stopped to place a hand there. 
“Alright babygirl, we almost there. You are so impatient already,” you said to her, rubbing your belly. You had a few months left to go but she was already kicking to get out. You’d have to put her in track or soccer or something. She’d run you ragged if you weren’t careful.
“How’s my two favorite girls?” Terry entered the room, following the scent of food. 
You giggled. “You always know when the food is done!” You shrieked with laughter as Terry encircled your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your protruding belly. 
“Can’t help it when I smell a snack,” he said, kissing your cheek.
You sighed at his corny joke but giggled anyway. “You get on my nerves,” you said with a shake of your head. This man of yours. 
“I love you too. Time to eat?” He asked. 
You craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him. He grinned, catching your eye, and then kissed your cheek once more. “You can’t be that hungry,” you said. 
“For your famous meatloaf? Hell yeah, I’m that hungry,” he said. He swayed with you to the music and you closed your eyes, taking it all in. 
“Didn’t you just eat like…?”
“That was my pre-dinner food. This is dinner. I got room,” he said. 
You shook your head. Thank goodness you weren’t having a boy. You didn’t know what the hell you would do if you had two of them running around, eating you out of house and home. You were barely keeping up with Terry and his voracious appetite when he was home. 
“You can’t possibly eat like this on base,” you said.
“I can pack away some food. But hmm, ain’t nothing better than being home,” he said.
“I worry about you. Help me with the meatloaf please,” you said.
“I need a kiss first,” he said. 
You sighed and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. He shook his head, releasing you long enough to turn you around. 
“A real kiss,” he said, suddenly turning serious. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his. 
It felt like he was trying to tell you something with the kiss, but you weren’t sure what. He held onto you, gripping your waist as if you were the lone anchor and he had been out at sea for weeks. 
You leaned back and looked at him. “Terry? Everything okay?” 
&&&
Four months ago…
“Everything okay?” Terry asked. 
“Huh?” You turned your attention back to him. Cadence fidgeted in your lap. You sighed and righted her once more so that she could look at the screen at her daddy. He was on base and you were talking to him on video chat, trying to make it a nightly thing for Cadence’s sake, but it was getting tougher.
She had sunk into her terrible six’s, getting impatient the minute she didn’t get her way. You blamed Terry of course. Spoiling the damn child and making it seem like you were the bad parent, always saying no and doing nothing fun. 
“I’m just tired, Terry,” you sighed. You smiled, despite it all, but even that was getting exhausting. You were cranky, irritable, and at your wit’s fucking end. 
Terry’s eyebrows furrowed but he took you at your word. Cadence flopped in your arm like she was over the whole thing. You corrected her again, holding down her arms and legs so she’d sit still. 
She began to whine, paying attention to anything but her daddy. “When are you coming home?” Cadence asked, suddenly switching gears and leaning far into the camera. 
“I’m not sure yet, baby. But I hope it’s soon,” he said. 
“Will you be here for Mustard’s birthday?” She asked. Mustard, being her imaginary friend. She babbled endlessly to the mysterious Mustard who was usually to blame when Cadence acted out. 
“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he said.
Cadence groaned, flopping into your arms once more. Ugh. You finally picked her up and set her down. She began to cry, trying to climb back onto you. “Aht aht, you’re acting out because your Daddy isn’t here. And you know better,” you said. 
Cadence cried harder, fighting to get back in your lap. You looked at Terry. “I’ll call you back,” you said. You slammed the laptop shut without even hearing his reply. You were tired and fucking over it. 
Cadence turned her cries into a full blown temper tantrum, stomping her feet and jumping up and down. You stared at the little devil and for a split second, just a split, you pictured tossing her ass out through the window. Fuck. That was an evil thought.
“Cadence. You have three seconds to stop and use your words. Acting like a damn barn animal,” you said, sucking your teeth. 
Cadence continued to cry and stomp, falling onto the floor and screaming at the top of her lungs. You stared at her. At your wild, beautiful, terror of a daughter. You couldn’t scream. Screaming would only feed into whatever this fucking phase was. Screaming would turn you into your own mother, who forced you into a box when you were younger. Only to be seen and never heard.
You didn’t have the greatest relationship with your mother. You wanted a mom and she raised you to be the mother she never had. She thought you were the best of friends when you just wanted to escape. Be free from her constant judgement and disappointment.
You stared at your child as she screamed bloody murder and you didn’t know what to do. Terry didn’t have much family that you could turn to. There was Mike, but Mike was young. Mike didn’t need the responsibility of looking after his niece like that. He should be out and enjoying being young and free. There was your best friend Gianna, but she had her own life to live.
Cadence’s wails were like nails on chalkboard, making your brain itch in places you couldn’t reach. Great, heaving sobs trapped in your chest and you held it in. Held in the anger. Held in the frustration. You were a bad fucking mother and you didn’t know how to fix this. The only one who could was a few states away, off on base doing who knew what. 
You stared. You hurt. You stared. She cried. 
Cadence flopped on the floor, crocodile tears streaming down her face. “Cadence, off the floor. Now,” you said as calmly, voice ready to wobble but you kept on a brave face. 
Cadence ignored you, flipped onto her stomach, and then kicked at the floor in her footie pajamas. You stared. And stared. You felt absolutely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of you to keep going. Keep moving. Keep doing this shit day in and day out. 
But she was yours. You would not abandon her. She may grow up to hate your guts, never speak to you again like you barely did with your own mother, but dammit, you weren’t going to yell and scream at a child who didn’t truly understand the world yet.
You left Cadence on the ground to scream and yell while you went to your room to collect laundry. Let her fucking yell and scream. Maybe it’d tire her little behind out. 
You grabbed the laundry basket from your room, picking up wayward clothes that needed to be washed. The famous chair was overfilled with clothes and Terry’s robe. An ache formed behind your eye, growing worse the more Cadence screamed. Cadence jogged into the room, rubbing the back of her eyes with her hand. 
She continued to cry and scream and you turned to her. She looked at you and sat on the ground, snot running down her face. “Are you ready to use your words?” You asked.
She shook her head. “Then you sit there until you are,” you said. You scooted past her to her room to collect her dirty clothes. She followed you, continuing to cry her eyes out. 
“So now you don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked. 
Her cries turned to sniffling and hiccuping. She finally caught on that you weren’t going to feed into her nonsense. “No,” she hiccuped. 
“No? You don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked. 
“I do listen!” She yelled. 
You tilted your head and gave her The Look. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and then walked closer, putting her head on your leg. “Where’s Daddy?” She asked. 
“Daddy’s at work. You know that,” you said. You placed the basket on her pink princess bed and then dropped down to her level. You grabbed one of her hands and helped wipe her face. 
“I didn’t raise you to act out. You have a voice and you have to learn to use it,” you said, tears threatening to spill down your face. How could you make her see how important it was to use her words? To use what so many people took for granted? 
She was still too young to understand the nuances of being Black and a little girl. Your mother silenced your voice when you were younger. Placing the burden of being alive on you and not on her for not swallowing you instead of giving birth. You didn’t want that for Cadence. Didn’t want her to grow up, mincing her words, swallowing it all down, chest caving in whenever there was confrontation.
You wanted her to be strong. Full of life. Everything you weren’t. You blinked away the hot, itchy tears and smiled at her. 
“I miss Daddy,” she said. “I don’t want to see him on the ‘puter.” 
You sighed. You figured as much. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. He had a good job providing for you and Cadence. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was a deadbeat. It would be easier to ignore the growing ache in your heart, missing him at home with you and Cadence. 
“I miss Daddy too. But you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you don’t get your way. That’s not how young ladies act. And your Daddy would be very hurt to know you’re acting up,” you said. 
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said. She hugged you and you hugged her back. God, you needed this shit to end. This constant need to cry or yell or scream yourself. You weren’t a child anymore. You didn’t have the luxury of flopping on the floor whenever you were overwhelmed. 
“Thank you, baby. Go wash your face and get ready for bed,” you said. You released her and then popped her on the butt to get a move on. She giggled, jogging out of the room and headed to the bathroom. 
“With soap!” You called out. Cadence giggled like that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. You shook your head and continued grabbing her dirty clothes off the floor. You seriously had to teach that little girl to pick up after herself better. It was like once Terry was out of the house, she lost all pieces of her marbles.
You could relate. You distracted yourself with picking up her toys, crayons, and coloring books off of the floor and back into its proper places. You grabbed the laundry basket and left her room.
“Daddy says he may not make your birthday, Mustard. But that’s okay! We’ll take sooooooooo many pictures for him!” Cadence chattered on and on to her little friend. 
You shouldn’t be…worried, right? Your daughter had friends but she only saw them at school. The other parents constantly asked you about playdates but you had so much to do between your own work, the house, and getting Cadence together, that you didn’t have it in you to take her for playdates.
You didn’t trust her with anyone else and you didn’t have time to sit and hang out with the mommies while they all gushed about their husbands. Gahh. The whole thing made you sick. They always managed to feel sorry for you. But always thanked your husband for his service.
Whatever. Fuck the service. Fuck the government. Fuck America and its bullshit. You wanted your husband at home. You wanted to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you. If you knew that you’d be this damn lonely in marriage, you would have saved yourself the hassle. 
You loved Cadence with everything in you. But it was never in your plans to raise her with no help. And it wasn’t fair on Terry. He was doing what he needed to do. But…you were tired of feeling like the bad guy when all you wanted was someone to hold you at night. 
You finished up gathering today’s laundry and placed it in the laundry room. You tucked Cadence and Mustard into her bed, sitting down to read her a story while she drifted off to sleep. 
You had a pounding headache from all her screaming and the unshed tears. But you sat for a while longer and prayed over your baby. Prayed she never ended up like you. Prayed she knew nothing but joy and love and how to reach out to people. 
You were half alone, with one friend, and no family to help you. It was you, Terry, Gianna, Mike, and Cadence against the world. What a fucking family you all made. 
You stood up and left the room and turned off the light. You left her door cracked and then made your way through the house, turning off lights, and running through a mental checklist of everything you had left to do tomorrow. 
Making it to your room, you closed the door and flopped onto your cold, lifeless bed with a heavy sigh. You pulled the nearest pillow towards you and snuggled into it. Fuck. And you had to wake up and do it all over again. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
Tears immediately welled in your eyes like it had just been waiting for you to be alone. You let the tears fall. Let your face get hot and puffy as you curled into a ball and cried. Your sniffling was muffled by the pillow.
You let it all out. The frustration from not being good enough for Cadence. The guilt over your disgusting thoughts about harming her. The loneliness from not having your husband there, beside you. Call you a weak ass bitch or whatever, but you just wanted your man home. 
You cried over stupid shit, like spilling your coffee at work. Washing everything in the laundry but finding that one random sock that managed to miss the load. Watching Cadence play with Mustard and seeing Terry written all over her face. You curled into yourself harder and cried and cried, letting every last bit of it out. 
You didn’t have enough strength when it was all over to clean your own face. So you flipped the pillow to a clean side and promptly went to sleep.
&&&
Six years ago…
You paced the length of the hallway in the hospital, trying to breathe through the pain. For all of Cadence’s kicks and tumbling, she sure as shit didn’t want to come out now. Your mother walked with you up and down the hallway, trying to tell you how to birth a child. 
You held back whatever you wanted to say and rubbed your lower back. Fuuuuuck, this shit was painful. You were never doing this again. Fuck this. How did people have multiple kids? How did they birth a basketball team like it was nothing?
It felt like your insides were being scooped out with a rusty spoon. You stopped and leaned on the wall nearest you. “It’s gon’ be okay. Your body knows what to do,” your mom said.
You wanted to tell her to fuck off. So what if your body knew what to do? You didn’t. This was your first child and it was looking to be your only child. You couldn’t do this shit no more. And you sure as shit didn’t want to do it without Terry there. 
Going through the last few months without him was bullshit. No one there to rub your feet or run errands when you were craving something stupid like ice cream and gummy worms. No one there to hold your hand when your panic over being a bad mom got too loud, too close to home, and you were spiraling. 
But…you did it. You got through it. You could continue on. “Terry really ought to be here for this. I can’t believe he’s gonna miss the birth of his own child,” your mom complained.
“It’s not like he has a choice, mom,” you said, careful to watch your tone. Your mom never missed an opportunity to remind you that she was older and could still pop you in the mouth for being disrespectful. 
“Don’t they have leave or something?” Your mom continued. 
Can’t you fucking leave? You wanted to scream at her. You’d rather do this shit alone if all she was going to do was remind you that your husband would not be there. Would not be there to hear your child’s first cries. 
You had planned and gushed over your baby together. You had theories on top of theories of who she’d favor more, what kind of personality she would develop, and what kind of life she would lead. He should be here. 
Tears pricked your eyes but you beat them back. You had a job to do and it involved seeing this baby safely delivered. “I’m tired, mom,” you said.
“I know, baby. One more lap and then we’ll go sit for a minute,” she said. She grabbed your hand and your eyes ached from trying to hold back the tears. Sometimes your mom showed a bit of affection and like a kicked dog, you soaked it up. You reveled in the simple gesture, knowing that at any moment, her claws would come back out.
Squeaking tile made you turn your head. Terry leaned forward, the inertia from running making him rock on his heels. You locked eyes with him. 
“Terry!” You yelled. 
Terry power walked down the hallway dressed in his fatigues. He was clean shaven since he was on base and he looked so damn scrumptious you wanted to gobble him up then and there. He smiled as he approached, carefully taking your hand out of your mother’s.
“I knew you’d find a way to make it,” your mom said, patting Terry on the shoulder. “Otherwise I’d have talked shit.”
“Mom!” You said.
Terry chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Terry said. He grinned as he cupped your face. “How you feeling?” 
“Better, now that you’re here,” you said. 
Terry kissed your forehead and then grabbed your hand. With him by your side, it wasn’t so bad. You could get through it. You could do this. Still hurt like a motherfucker. Wait…You wailed as you held your stomach, feeling a contraction come on and ruin everything. 
You gripped Terry’s hand with all the strength you could muster as you rode out the pain. You huffed and puffed as you calmed down from the intensity. You turned a side eye to Terry. “You’re never doing this to me again,” you said, your voice rough from wailing.
Terry had the good sense not to look dumb. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Had fun making her though,” he said with a wink. 
You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Nasty ass. Just like a man to enjoy all the benefits with none of the work,” you said. 
Terry guided you back to your room. He walked slowly with you though his long legs could cover the distance in two seconds. “I wouldn’t say none of the work. I seem to recall you loudly begging –”
“Begging?!” 
“Beggin’ me not to stop,” Terry said.
You chuckled and winced as it disrupted whatever the fuck Cadence was doing in your belly. Lord, you needed this child out neow. 
Terry stayed with you every step of the way. He held your hand when you needed it and got lost when you cursed him ten ways from Sunday. He was there to make sure the doctors and nurses gave you what you needed, ensuring that your voice was heard and your concerns were met. 
And when little Cadence Richmond came screaming into the world, Terry was right there grinning and laughing and kissing your forehead. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your temple. “You did so good, beautiful.” 
&&&
“I can’t do this anymore, G,” you said, picking at the grass in your backyard. 
Cadence jogged around the backyard with Mustard, running back and forth and screaming with laughter. That girl had a set of pipes. But it was a happy scream and you’d take that over anything else.
Your best friend, Gianna, flipped her locs over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands. “Do what?” She asked. 
“Spend my life waiting for a man that don’t wanna come home,” you said. You looked down at the blade of grass and let the melancholy thoughts run wild. You knew your brain was a big, fat, ugly liar but sometimes that motherfucker made sense. 
Terry went into the service to take care of you and Cadence when you were still two kids who didn’t know better. Now that Cadence was six, what was Terry doing? Why continue to stay on base? 
The only logical answer was that he didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to be here to help you. After years of practically living apart, the weight of your decisions made your head heavy. 
What would’ve happened if you had joined him on base? Once it was proven that he wasn’t going to hop from state to state, or country to country, you could have joined him. But the thought of being a “military wife” tasted like sand in your mouth. You didn’t want to trade in a normal life for whatever the hell that was. You didn’t want Cadence to grow up coddled from the world. 
No one was going to protect her because the world didn’t protect little Black girls. You didn’t want her to grow up with rose-colored glasses, thinking the world began and ended at the base. You wanted her strong but soft. Capable of taking care of herself but not hiding behind a steel wall all the time.
“Girl, you know that man loves you and Cadence. Have you talked to him at all?” Gianna asked. She shielded her eyes from the sun to look at Cadence doing cartwheels. 
“Every time I try to, I get so choked up I can’t speak. And I don’t want him to see how much I’m struggling,” you said. 
“He’s your husband. He’s supposed to see your struggle,” Gianna said. She leaned forward and looked at you. You felt her assessing gaze as if she was trying to see past your words. But there was nothing to see past.
Day by day, it became clearer that you no longer spoke the same language as your husband. He became a stranger before your eyes and you hadn’t noticed. Or had you not cared? You loved him still. You were very much still in love with him. But you weren’t going to hold him back. 
The next time Terry came home, you were going to talk to him. Truly talk. And let him know that you weren’t going to hold him to a marriage he didn’t want to be in. Just thinking it turned your stomach sour. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want some other woman to get her claws in him. Didn’t want to “co-parent” with some chicken head with fake boobs. 
You sure as shit didn’t want to see him kissing all over some other woman. Or have him create more children with someone else. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of your life in a state of limbo. Longingly looking down the quiet street for a car that was never going to pull up? 
The whole thing made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know what you were going to do. But you knew this was your rock bottom. You couldn’t stand it another second.
“The other day, Cadence showed her entire ass screaming and all I could think was, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t half parent her. Not when he hangs the moon and I’m the monster under her bed,” you said.
“Where is this coming from? Why didn’t you call me?” Gianna took your hand in hers and shifted towards you. 
“I thought I could handle it, is all,” you said and shrugged. Cadence was your child. Why should you pass the buck to someone else just to get a break? A break from your own child. That was your mom’s MO. She had to distract you in order for you to leave her alone. And now you were doing the same thing to your kid. 
You were a mess and you were drowning. You were so far underwater there was no more light above you. And your light was a few states away toiling away at a job he loved more than you. 
“Mommy! Auntie Gigi, loooook!” Cadence said, trying to turn a cartwheel into a flip but only flopped onto her butt. 
“You be careful out there, little girl! But great job!” You said. 
She got up and dusted herself off, nodding to herself. Then she kept practicing, falling over and over. But she kept getting up. You hoped she continued as she got older. 
“You better talk to that man, you know he not gon’ like this,” Gianna said. 
You squeezed her hand. Yeah. Yeah, that was putting it nicely.
&&&
Three years ago…
You sat down on the brown couch with a deep sigh. Terry chuckled and hummed tiredly, reaching his arm down from over the couch to pull you closer. 
“You sound how I feel,” he said. Light from the TV splayed across his handsome face, a mix of colors dancing across his features. It was too dark in the living room to see his storm-blue eyes but you saw enough. 
“That girl, I swear. I don’t know what kinda DNA you got swimming, but that is your child,” you said. You shifted until you were tucked protectively under his arm and against his chest. His heart thumped against your cheek and you closed your eyes briefly. Still your favorite song in the whole world. 
“Nah, anything after seven is your baby. You never go to sleep on time,” he said. 
“Yes, I do. Sometimes,” you said.
“What time you go to bed last night?” He asked. His thumb traced lazy patterns on your shoulder. The sound was muted on the TV but you looked at the picture. He was in the middle of some old movie from the 60s. 
“That is beside the point,” you said, remembering that you didn’t go to bed until 2am. The night just made more sense to you to be awake. Day time was a burden and a half. 
Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe we got her down. When is she going to grow out of her terrible fours?” He asked. 
“I don’t know. I thought we were tiring her out. That wasn’t even her final form,” you said and groaned. 
“I have a crazy thought,” he said.
“Mhm, what’s that?” You asked. 
“What if we had another?” He asked.
You leaned away from him to look him in the face. He looked back at you with no change in his expression. He was serious. Like really serious. You leaned up further and faced him. “After today, you want another one?” You asked.
Cadence had been more than a handful lately. Since her Daddy came home, she had run him ragged taking up all his free time. She wanted to play princess or go for a horseback ride. She wanted to run around the backyard with him and push her stuffed teddies on the small swing set he built for her. 
She wanted to lay down with him for her nap and yes, he had to climb under the Bluey blanket with her whether he fit or not. You did snap a thousand pictures and giggled to yourself while you got to some household chores. 
After the nap, he had to watch TV with her. And he had to play dolls while he did so, non-negotiable. Then, for no reason at all, she ripped off her clothes and went streaking through the house. You two nearly gave up trying to chase her around. 
Terry finally managed it and gave her a bath while you finally went to lay down. Goodness knew you needed it. Terry indulged in every little whim of Cadence’s and you told him often that he was doing nothing but spoiling her rotten.
“I know, but I can’t help it. She got me wrapped around her tiny finger. I miss so much,” he had said when you told him.
And now he wanted another? 
“Yeah, before she gets too big. She could use a buddy. Our family is so small,” he said. His smooth voice trailed off, getting lost in thought as he stared at the TV. You wondered if he was even seeing it. Or if he was lost in a thought or a memory. 
You cupped his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “But are you sure?” You asked. Unlike Terry, you remembered what it was like trying to carry the child alone. You had no choice but to endure and handle it if Terry was gone during this pregnancy too. But sometimes, you got the sinking feeling that he was always looking for a way out and he just didn’t know how to tell you. 
“You and Cadence mean absolutely everything to me. Yes, I’m sure,” he said. He smirked and bumped your shoulder.
“Remember all the fun we had making Cadence?” He pulled you closer and nuzzled your cheek with his nose. You held firm, refusing to give in to his charms. You were not going down that easy. You refused. Absolutely refused. 
“I must’ve turned your little world. You stay bringing that up,” you said, pushing him away.
Terry held firm, moving his nose down to your neck and inhaling. He hummed, low and deep in his chest causing it to rumble. The sound carried up and down your spine, sending electric shocks through your brain. “Been waiting for you to do that shit again,” he said. 
You giggled and leaned away. He followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Lemme give you a baby,” he said.
You laughed and shook your head. “You are out of your mind,” you said.
“You know you wanna be swollen with my baby again,” he said. He moved his hand to your shirt and searched beneath it, rubbing his fingers along your skin. You sighed with a moan, shifting your body closer. He was a cheating ass nigga. 
“You get on my nerves,” you said. You feebly pushed at his chest but he was a mountain. Too immoveable. He grinned against your neck and then kissed it, his lingering lips sending pulses of heat straight to your pussy. 
“You just wanna cum all up in this again. Admit it,” you said, giggling.
“I admit it. I confess. I am guilty,” he whispered against your neck. 
You managed to giggle and moan at the same time, your brain in full on mush mode. There was nothing but the feeling of his hands on your tummy. He didn’t venture anywhere else, just ran the rough pads of his fingers against your skin. 
It was more than enough. You pushed into him, needing more but not willing to say it. You couldn’t utter a single sound so you talked with your body. The only language you and Terry spoke well. 
“Use your big girl words,” he said.
“You get on my nerves!” You said.
Terry smiled against your skin. “I love you too,” he said.
&&&
Four months ago…
“DADDDDDYYYYYYYY!” Cadence’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead ten towns over. As soon as Terry stomped into the house, light shining behind him, Cadence was on him like white on rice. 
She launched herself into his arms and he had to kneel or get ran over. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. “How’s my babygirl?” He asked. He kissed her head and leaned back to look at her face.
His eyes softened as she talked a mile a minute, telling him every thought that came out of her head. Terry fixed her purple flowered shirt while she spoke. He nodded and asked her questions as he set his duffel bag down and closed the door behind him. 
You stood off to the side, feeling like a sack of meat for all the enthusiasm Cadence showed you. You shouldn’t be jealous and well…no one said you had to be rational all of the time. 
You stood rooted to the spot, knowing that whatever came next was going to hurt. It was going to break you. And yet it would shatter you if you didn’t. 
Terry kept throwing glances your way like he knew something was up but couldn’t pinpoint what. He squinted at you and still paid attention to Cadence’s stream of consciousness. 
“And then Mustard said that I was a booger, but that’s not true because boogers are green and I’m not green,” Cadence said.
“You tell Mustard to be nicer to you,” Terry said. He walked over to you and dropped a kiss to your forehead. His large palm cupped the back of your neck and he held his lips to your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in his uniquely manly scent. 
“Welcome home,” you whispered. You leaned back and looked at him. He tilted his head and massaged the back of your neck. Your shoulders drooped as he rubbed, all ounces of tension leaving your body. 
Why couldn’t he make this easier? It was just like your stupid heart to plum forget the past few months he was on base. You never could stand on business. Not with your mom and not with Terry. It was a curse, it truly was.
You and Terry fell into an unspoken truce while Cadence soaked up having her Daddy home. You spent most of the time in the living room, talking, laughing, and telling Terry about everything he missed. Everything you didn’t get to discuss over the computer. 
Terry had to know something was up. He kept reaching out to you but you found ways to dodge or get up to do something. You weren’t trying to be a bitch. But you didn’t want to fall into his arms if he was only going to hate you later.
It’d be easier to stomach his hate and anger if you didn’t have his lingering touch on your skin. So you continued to move and fawn and shake him off anyway you could. 
Cadence had to have Terry read her the bedtime story, not asking for you once. Not throwing a tantrum once. Not even a sniffle. Little booger. 
You made some tea in the kitchen while Terry stayed with Cadence until she truly fell asleep. If she sensed Terry moving a muscle, she’d wake up groggily and ask for him. You waited at the dining table with a steaming mug of tea nestled between your palms but you swore you felt none of the heat.
Terry shuffled into the kitchen and sighed as he sat down in the chair. He looked so ragged. But beautiful as always. Loving Terry was like loving a precious jewel. It hurt to look at but it hurt worse to look away. 
He leaned one arm on the table and leveled you with a stare. “What’s up with you?” He asked. 
You took a deep breath and stared at your mug. “I have to talk to you about something important. And I didn’t want to get in the way of Cadence seeing you,” you said. 
“What’s going on? Just tell me,” he said.
“I don’t want to be a single mother anymore,” you said. You held up your hand as Terry pitched forward, confusion twisting his features. “You’re an amazing father, Terry. But…I want my husband home. And I won’t make you choose between the Corps and me.” 
“That’s not even a choice,” he said. You held up your hand again before he could continue to argue. Yes, it was a choice. He clearly loved what he did. And you knew he loved Cadence. But you were feeling pretty fucking unloved. You knew it wasn’t intentional on his part. You knew that if you just told him what’s up, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you.
But you were terrified that he’d wake up one day and resent you for making him quit while he was ahead. You wouldn’t survive that. 
“This isn’t something new for me. And I know it feels out of left field, but I think I’ve been feeling like this since we had Cadence. I kept waiting for you to say enough is enough and you’d resign from the service and come home. I kept waiting for you to make that decision but you never did. You kept going and going and going.” 
“I did it for us. So that you and Cadence were taken care of,” he said.
“I know. Baby, I know,” you said. You gripped the mug hard enough to break it. The heat singed your palms but you let it. Your heart thumped too fast, stealing your breath. You vibrated with nervous energy, stomach twisting into painful knots. 
You hated that confrontation made it seem like your insides wanted to crawl out of your skin. You hated the sinking feeling that you were hurting someone even though you were hurting too. You hated that your voice shook and tears threatened to fall. 
“But you’re not here all the time. You don’t see that Cadence can be a fucking nightmare sometimes and it’s just me. I never thought it’d be just me when I had a family. I thought I’d have my husband with me. And I’m tired of feeling like a weak ass bitch for wanting that.
“And I get lonely. And sad. And tired. And I keep thinking that you’re not here. You’re off taking care of us and how can I be mad at you for that? But I am. I can’t stand it. I’m at my fucking limit, Terry, and I can’t keep going back and forth between hoping you came home and thinking it’d be easier if you didn’t.
“I won’t make you choose. Because I love you too fucking much,” you said. The tears came anyway, streaming down your face. Ugh. Now you were crying and he’d think you were manipulating him. It was the last thing you wanted him to think. 
“You love me but you’re trying to leave me? This is fucking insane,” he said. He pushed away from the table and you nodded, looking back down at your mug. It was insane. You were definitely insane. 
He paced the length of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ unreal.” 
You rubbed your head. “I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore. If I knew where I stood with you, I could move accordingly. But I’m not that strong. I am exhausted fighting my brain and my heart all the time,” you said.
“And what about what I want? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He asked. His voice strained and your heart ached for him. This was so fucking painful, like shards of glass embedded into every beat of your heart. 
“I’m not happy. And I’m not trying to hurt you, it’s not you in particular that made me unhappy. I just am. I’m constantly feeling like a bad mother. I’m constantly feeling like a failed wife. Because why else aren’t you home? Why aren’t you here with me?” You sobbed harder, silently, tears falling in scalding streaks down your face. 
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He asked. His voice rose and your tears only fell harder. You were just a failure of a person, not able to make your child happy. Your husband happy. Yourself happy. 
“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you said.
“You keep saying that as if I wouldn’t choose you every time!” His voice rose higher, practically yelling at you and you swiped at your face. You hated crying. Pressure built in your face and made everything gross and full of snot. 
Terry lifted fists to his face and knocked his forehead. “I knew something was up with you. I knew it and I just couldn’t name it. This is my fault, I know that,” he said.
“It’s not! You’re a good father,” you said.
“But a terrible husband?” He asked.
“I didn’t say that!” You said. 
Terry paced the kitchen some more, rubbing furiously at his face. If he had his facial hair, he’d probably tug at it. “I thought you wanted me away. I thought…you hated having me here. It seemed like you never wanted to talk over the phone anymore or you barely looked at me on chat. I should’ve known that was my clue to check back in,” he said.
“Will you please stop saying it’s your fault? I’m in this relationship too and I haven’t been the best wife,” you said. You knew that you could have done better. Could have talked more openly. Told hm you were struggling over the years but you didn’t want him to feel guilty while he was at work. He was providing for you after all. And you thought you could be happy with that. But you weren’t. You were a basic simp. You wanted your husband. And you’d rather beg on the street with him than live in luxury without him. 
“How could you say that? You’re an amazing wife. It’s my job to make sure that’s not a doubt in your mind,” he said. 
You groaned. “M-Maybe we just need to cool off,” you said. 
“No, no, we can fix this. Don’t shut me out!” He said.
“I can’t help it!” You yelled.
“Why not?” 
“I don’t know!” You swiped angrily at your tears. “Because I’m broken? Because I’m a horrible person? I don’t know! I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t know how to let things go. I don’t know how to live and let live. My brain is fucking mean and every time we get off the phone, I start worrying that I’m bugging you? Holding you back? Am I selfish for wanting you at the cost of my happiness? Is that self love or destruction? I can’t fucking tell anymore, Terry, and it scares the hell out of me.”
You stood up and turned away from him, looking down at your left hand. You looked at the simple band he got when he first proposed. He promised to replace it as soon as you had two nickels to rub together but you told him not to bother. The band was to deter other men from talking crazy to what belonged to him. You just wanted him.
You never took it off. Never. It was practically glued to your finger. But you turned around and slipped it off. 
Terry stood up and backed away. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he seethed. 
His eyes were a raging storm, swirling with mixed emotions. His shapely eyebrows were curved downward, nostrils flaring. If you waved a red flag, he would surely charge you. 
“I know I’ve been a shit husband. I…used the military as an excuse. That maybe we just worked better apart. But all I’ve been doing is hurting us both. Creating this distance between us. I want nothing more than to come home to you and Cadence. I’m on leave. We can talk this out,” he said.
“All you’re going to do is convince me that things will change. And the next time you go back to work, we’re back to the same shit. What kind of life is that?” 
“I’ll put in my papers tomorrow. I’ll get a local job,” he said. 
“And what will you say when you wake up years from now resenting me?” You asked.
“What the fuck is it going to take for you to believe me?” He asked. 
You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. You looked down at your feet. What would convince you? You weren’t sure. You didn’t want Terry to jump through hoops to prove that he was still the man you were in love with. 
You lifted your gaze to him just in time to see him swipe at a lone tear halfway down his cheek. He stepped closer and you tensed, waiting for him to explode. To yell or scream or call you out of your name. But your husband would never. 
Instead, he paused just beside you, facing forward. He didn’t move to touch you. Didn’t press for more contact than what you were willing to give at the moment. You felt fragile. Raw. Like you could collapse at any moment. 
“Don’t you ever take that ring off your finger. I’m not done fighting for us. And until you figure out what it will take, I’m not letting you go. I swear to you I’ll never leave you and Cadence. Both of you are my reason for living and if it takes my last breath, we’ll be a family again. I’ll stay at Mike’s for a while, but I’ll be back in the morning to tell Cadence myself,” he said.
He walked out of the kitchen and like the coward you were, you let him. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Because this was true agony. This was a hell of your own making and you still weren’t sure what the fuck was wrong with you.
Maybe you truly were that broken.
The end, end.
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WHEW. I'm sorry, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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h0ney-mochi · 2 days ago
Note
I'm thinking of a subby!xiao x dom!Afab!Reader, where it's xiao's first time and he starts crying because of the extreme pleasure he is receiving lmao
(I wanna hear his moans, whimpers, whines, crying, I wanna feel him squirming as he begs me to go faster on his cock lmao)
Anyways thanks! I hope you have a wonderful day :D
sub Xiao x dom afab!reader
SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (sub!xiao, dom!reader, afab!reader, riding, dacryphilia?, praise)
Summary: You've started being more intimate with Xiao a few months ago. Make-outs, some touching, but nothing too far... And then, one night, he tells you his thoughts on wanting to do more.
A/n: YR SO RIGHT... he'd be whimpering and whining for you to speed up, go harder, he wants more!!! <3 Hope you have a good day as well, anon! I haven't written in so fucking long that I'm scared this isn't that good... gosh help
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Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!
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It's another night of you and your lovely adeptus boyfriend. He's still not used to the title of that, especially when you run up to him muttering the words with a huge smile on your face. You've asked him if he's uncomfortable, that you can change the nickname up, that he can tell you if he doesn't like it— Before seeing the blush on his cheeks that he's trying very hard to hide. He'll say it's fine, avoiding your teasing gaze, not wanting to admit that he does like the name. Especially when it comes from your lips.
Another one of those nights of you laying in the grass, kicking your feet in the air while reading a book in the pale moonlight. Xiao is beside you, looking over the hill. It was calm and quiet. Occasionally, you could hear some bird making noise in the distance, but other than that, it was peaceful. You flip another page and smirk at a sentence.
Xiao has already moved his attention away from the fields, looking down at you now, watching your eyes move across the words on the page. He slightly furrows his eyebrows, deep in some thoughts. It's fascinating how you have so many sides to you. Just in the early morning of the same day, you had him against the wall, messily making out. And now you're giggling at a book you picked up from the library days prior.
He feels the same weird feeling in his stomach that he felt in the morning when you had your tongue down his throat. What was it? What is it? You two never went far. You guys started getting sort of intimate a few months ago, maybe. He was inexperienced. It all always was too much, making him light-headed. Even a slightly heavier make-out session was enough to make his knees buckle. He doesn't know if you've been with someone else before him... You do it so easily. You always take the lead. Is it because you've learned it with someone else or.. or...
Oh, how he wished he would be the first one.
"Xiao?" Your gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he meets your eyes. He stares at you for a moment before looking away, answering you with a simple 'What?'.
"You seem pretty deep in thought, something bothering you? Do you need to go already?" You ask him while sliding a bookmark on your page and closing the book. Xiao grunts, shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." You won't let that go. You sit up and scoot closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He moves his head to the side so you can lay yours comfortably. Your two fingers do a walk on his leg, and you smile. "Xiaooo," you drag out his name, chuckling at the end, "Tell me what's up."
Xiao sighs in annoyance, looking away. You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He tenses up and slowly turns his head to look down at you. He's met with your eyes already staring at him. "Come onnn, you know I won't judge," you continue your sentence. Xiao stares at you with an annoyed look. Some silence passes, and he blinks a few times before looking away again.
"It's nothing, I've just been thinking... about us. About what we... do." He finally says, absentmindedly moving his thumb against your hand. You hum in a bit of confusion before straightening your back, and he looks at you when you do that, eyes slightly widening in some fear. You take both of his hands in yours and look at him, "That's what's bothering you? Am I going too fast? I'm really sorry. You shouldn't keep these things to yourself, honey." You speak, furrowing your eyebrows, slightly chewing on your lip. Have you really been pushing too hard on him? Well, it would make sense that it would be too much for him... But it's the first time that he's bringing this up. How long has he been thinking like this?
"Oh, what? No, no, I-" Xiao's eyes widen at your words, and he quickly shakes his head, sighing again, "No, you got it wrong. You're not doing anything wrong, [name]. I was just thinking that..." I want you. I need you. I need more.
He feels his cheeks start to burn at his own thoughts. How is he supposed to say it out loud?
You stare at him with a tilted head. You try to think of what he's trying to tell you right now and make sure you won't be getting anything wrong, that you won't be misunderstanding... but his blush is really telling.
A small grin tugs at your lips. "You were thinking?" He swallows, breaking eye contact to look to the side. It's not like him to feel all flustered, but you always manage to mess with his head. Never in a million years would he admit to needing you in a way that is incredibly strange, at least to him. Yet you're willing to listen, you're grinning. You have a hunch on what he could say, and it makes him feel embarrassed.
"...That maybe we could..." He starts, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his mouth go dry. How is this so hard to say out loud?
He breathes in and then slowly exhales. Quickly glancing to you, he sees your grin. He's not sure if he should continue looking at you or look away — what can save him from these feelings right now?
"Maybe we could do... something more?" Xiao finally continues after a moment of silence. The way he worded it made him feel hot, nervousness creeping in. He starts to think again, staring in your eyes, of what you're going to say. Then he feels you squeeze his hands, and he feels his heart slowly slowing down. You let out a quiet chuckle before responding, "Yeah, we can. How far do you want me to go? Will you tell me when we're there?" He sits there, blinking at you. You hear him mutter an 'um...' and he's glancing to the side again.
"It's okay. You'll tell me when you'll need to then," You reassure him and lean in to give him a quick kiss. He feels your lips for a second, but before he can do anything back, you've already pulled away, and he feels some disappointment. You put your head back on his shoulder, speaking up again, "Just tell me when you want to try something more, or you want it to just happen in one of our moments?"
He moves his hand away from yours and coughs into it, not being able to handle your questions. How are they working him up already? Guess he's just letting his mind wander far too easily...
You noticed. Of course you did, so you spoke on it. Moving your head again, you lean into his ear and whisper, "Or do you want to do it right now?"
He lets out a breath before swallowing. It doesn't take long for him to reply, shaking his head up and down to your question. You let out a small laugh and move away, moving into his lap instead. You take your hand away from his and put both of them on the sides of his face, letting one move down to his neck and go further into his soft hair.
He stares at you with wide eyes, breathing through his mouth. He can't hide his nervousness. Or was it excitement? Neither of you knew right now.
He's already leaning closer to you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes, so you only do the same. You lean in and press your lips against his once again, and his hands freeze up for a moment, before he moves them to sit on your hips, gloved hands slightly digging into your clothing.
He kisses you back, letting his eyes close shut in the process. You move your lips against his, and you feel his mouth slightly part, and you take it as a chance to slide your tongue in. You move your thumb against his cheek while running your other hand through his hair. He sighs through his nose, kissing you back, slightly melting from it as you move your tongue. And he can't help, but imagine where else he could feel it..
His hands slightly tighten on your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. He needs you closer, closer... And you let him, shifting slightly in his lap so it's a bit more comfortable for you. And that's when you feel it.
You move your hand away from his hair and slowly run it down his neck to his chest, feeling his heart beat against it. Xiao makes a tiny sound when you move your hand further downwards over his stomach. You've always trailed your hand there, but it felt different this time. Probably because he said that the two of you could do something more, and you're moving towards said wish.
You smile against his mouth and pull away, earning a tiny whine from the man in front of you. His eyes widen as his own reaction, and he glances away. You tap his cheek with your thumb, and he looks back to your face. "Eyes on me," you whisper in a soft tone. The way he looks at you and the nod of his head makes your heart skip a beat. It was cute.
"You want me to go further, yeah?" You ask, and he nods again, not confident in his voice right now. You move your hand over his pants, slowly feeling him through the clothing, and you see his eyes slightly shutting before opening fully again. You're not doing a lot, just rubbing your hand up and down, feeling his dick pulse from your movements. Yet to him, it already feels a lot, but not enough. He tries to stay still, but as a small noise falls from his lips, he bucks his hips forward, trying to get more friction from your hand. You smile, and he stares back at you with pleading eyes.
In a quick movement, you pull your hand away, and he sighs at the loss. But you had other plans anyway. Using both of your hands, you push on his chest, making him fall down onto the grass beneath the two of you. Xiao watches your movements as he props himself up with his elbows, wondering what you've got in mind for him. He's met with your eyes that seem to have a dark glint within them. Your fingers hook onto his pants, and you're slowly pulling down his clothing, making him jump slightly. It wasn't that cold, but if you're showing lots of bare skin, it does send a few chills down your body.
The flush on his cheeks gets darker as he realizes just how excited he's got from you, but he doesn't dare to look away, no — he needs to see what you're going to do.
You don't make him wait, immediately moving your hand over his underwear, wrapping your hand around his hard-on. Slowly moving your hand, same motions as before, just with a slightly tighter grip. You move your head down and leave a small kiss at the top of his clothed dick and he pulses in your hand. Hearing his breathing get shaky already makes you only wonder - how is he going to sound when he actually feels you?
"[name], please..." You hear him quietly speak, letting out a breath right after, "Can you...?" You lid your eyes at him, asking with a smirk, "Can I what?" He balls his hands into fists, knowing very well that you were teasing him.
"Please, you know- you know what I mean.." He mumbles, slightly moving his hips. You let out a small laugh, nodding. You pull his underwear out of the way, further down his legs, and he shivers from the cool air hitting his dick, getting some goosebumps in the process.
Wrapping your fingers around him again, you feel his warmth on your palm. You let some of your spit fall on his dick and you start jerking him off. Xiao lets out a moan, immediately jumping at the sensation. You kiss his tip before leaning away and climbing on top of his body. One hand bent enough so you can still jack him off, you put your other hand on the grass next to him, so you wouldn't fall over. He's the one to kiss you first, already opening his mouth for you.
It doesn't take that long for him to already start moving his hips in the same motion as your hand, hands gripping at the grass and loud moans spilling in your mouth, getting swallowed down by you. From the way he's reacting and getting more desperate, you could tell he was close.
So you slowed down your hand, and oh boy, the disappointed moan he let out in your mouth made butterflies fly in your stomach.
You pulled away from his lips, and he opened his eyes to stare at you, confusement visible in his expression. "Why- why did you stop?" He asked, but then his question was answered once he saw you pulling down your own pants, along with your underwear. His mind doesn't process what's happening right now until you're towering over him again, rubbing his dick against yourself. That sends a spark through his body, and he whines, breathing heavily. And then you look at him.
"Is this okay?" You ask, teasing his tip with your fingers, and he only nods in response. "Can you say it out loud?" You tilt your head at him and watch him stutter. "I mean- Yes, it's fine- okay-" Xiao speaks, eyes darting between your face and his dick, "Please-"
And then you lowered yourself down on him, moving your hands on his chest. Xiao's breath gets caught in his throat, and he goes quiet, mouth agape. It was fairly easy to take him in since his reactions and noises always made you get wet. Still, it felt foreign since this is the first time both of you are going to enjoy each other. Your hands clutch onto his clothes as you let out a soft moan, fully sitting down on his lap. It felt nice.
Xiao, on the other hand, was digging his hands in the grass, plucking a few off the ground from the harsh grip. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising from a few quick breaths. Oh, you were so warm, he was inside of you, oh dear Archons, he was inside of you. Holy fuck.
You move a hand up to cup his cheek, making him zone back into your eyes. In a gentle voice, you ask, "Are you alright?" He nods slowly, unable to form proper words. And you take that as your cue to start moving. Using the strength you had in your legs, you lift yourself off his lap, leaving the tip of his dick inside you, before moving back down, slightly hitting his stomach. Xiao groans, his eyes almost closing from the feeling.
"You- you're so warm... You feel so-" He chokes out, interrupting himself with a shaky breath, "So good, fuck." You smile and grip onto his clothing, riding him at a quicker pace now. Xiao's back arched, and he let out a gasp. His hands shot up to your waist, holding on for dear life as you moved up and down his dick, moaning in the process.
He can't stop his noises now, that's for sure.
"Fuck, ah, you're- fuck, you're so warm, gaH—!" He whines, digging his hands into your skin, "Please- please go f-faster, [name], please..." You lie down on his chest, pressing your head into the crook of his neck and did as he begged. Crashing your hips up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin, combining that with the pure pleasure... Xiao couldn't hold back. His head falls back against the grass and moans flow freely from his throat as he tries to calm down. He feels tears prick at his eyes and his fingers dig harder in your waist, toes curling against the ground.
It felt so, so fucking good.
And then you moaned in his ear, and his eyes shot open towards the night sky. You moved one hand under his shirt, trailing it up his chest as you continued your movements on his dick. Through your moans, you managed to let out some proper words. "You like that? That feels good, doesn't it?"
He tries to nod, but he can't move from the pleasure, pressing the back of his head down against the ground. "Yes, ah-! Yes, feels good, fuck, feels good, feels so, so fucking good- Please, please-"
He's not sure what he's begging for, but he needs it, and he wants it so bad. He sniffles, feeling tears leave his eyes. There's something building up inside him, and he needs that release, whatever it is — he needs you to free him.
Your lips meet his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Your hips slap against his stomach, the noise from your wetness making it sound so much louder. Both your moans are mixing together, yet Xiao's are so much louder than yours. He's already sensitive, but he does not want to pull away, he can't, he feels something, he doesn't know what it is, but he fucking needs it. And so he begs with tears falling down his cheeks.
"Please, fuck- Please, I need- I need to- Fuck, [name], please, I want to- Haah- [name], please—!" Xiao moans out, his hands digging harder, daring to leave bruises on your skin and you groan in response, biting down on his neck.
"Mhm, you can do it, come on-" You say, detaching from his neck and straightening your back, quickly moving your hips ups and down, feeling your legs starting to sting, "Make me proud, Xiao. You're- fuck, you're doing so, so good."
And that's enough to have him snap. His eyes shut close, pushing more tears out, and his head falls back again. His dick pulses in you and you smile, staring down at his fucked out face. Wet streaks illuminated by the moonlight. His tight grip on your hips slightly loosens as he cums, letting out a sharp gasp. You don't stop yet, still trying to reach your own high and he slightly trembles beneath you, letting out broken moans.
His eyes are blurry and his mouth is dry, his heart is racing and he's sensitive. When you finally lean down to his face, it takes a bit for him to focus in on you. "Xiao?" Your voice sounds slightly distant, followed by a small chuckle, "Did that feel good, baby boy?"
He feels a small smile tug at his lips. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, thumb brushing away his tears. He kisses back with the energy he still has left, and he meets your eyes when you pull away. He looked so pretty in the moonlight. His face was messy, red eyeliner stains, wet streaks from his tears...
"Yeah," his voice feels sore, "It did."
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Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3
© h0ney-mochi 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3
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thrfted · 1 day ago
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꩜ DATING MR. SILVAIR .ᐟ
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Mix of other + our world headcanons (Italics is in the other world’s language!)
For the anon who requested! Vry glad you liked Mr. Crawling’s, thanks for the trust w Silvair :D Feel like I see him a lot.. nicer..? than most hcs I’ve seen and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for mebjfhdsfhjd
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(seen in ending 3) Mr. Silvair loves studying and learning about you, but he still feels bad if you seem upset or get hurt. If or when he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, he’ll ask what he did and apologize. He values learning about these differences in emotions, communication, perspective, etc.
He isn’t naturally physically affectionate, but he doesn’t refuse your requests or affection! He at least pats your head or back, not letting go until you do (unless he’s got things to do). Initially confused, he admits it feels nice when you hug him and that he’s started looking forward to (or at least expecting) it.
^ You can ask him for a forehead kiss or two, even if he doesn’t get why. He understands that it makes you happy and it isn’t like it’s doing him any harm anyway!  You’ll probably have to show him what a kiss is though. Will he find it amusing if you become flustered kissing him first? Say “Cute”? Probably.
You and Mr. Chopped become close friends too, sometimes (playfully) gossiping to each other about Mr. Silvair while he’s off doing experiments. There’s a few times Mr. Silvair seems to get jealous by the amount of time you guys spend together, especially if he catches you laughing at Mr. Chopped’s antics. He takes initiative and tries to have one-on-one time with you after that.
Maybe he does tie his hair back and we don’t know it, but I think he’d appreciate the idea if you brought it up! Sometimes it’s a half-up look, a simple ponytail, or you braid it back if you want. As long as it’s out of his face and not difficult to take out, he doesn’t mind.
If you enjoy/are comfortable with it, he might ask for your help with experiments, or… you? Your blood sometimes, at least. But he respects you if you’d rather stay away, even if he’s disappointed for a while.
Both of you spend quite a bit of time walking and talking while trying to find a new room when need be. You start to teach him your language, and he uses a few words and phrases when possible.
Mr. Silvair is more focused on experiments rather than interior decoration. But whether you ask to decorate his place in the other world or show him your home in ours, he grows a fondness for your taste. He even brings home things that remind him of you to see if you'll enjoy them.
^ In the same branch, if you bring something you think he’ll like, he takes good care of it, making sure its always somewhere safe!
Of course, he can’t really do the same studies in our world, or at least get his subjects in the same way. Be warned that he may or may not want to go out and find test subjects… somewhere…?
But on the bright side, it’s literally a whole new world! With so much available to him, at least he has other ways to learn than capturing and cutting things or people up.
Mr. Silvair as a good cook / kitchen helper? Really good at cutting up food, even if he doesn’t want to eat it.
In general he’s pretty good around the house! He remembers chores and keeps his space tidy for both your sakes, helping out wherever he can.
His hair is already pretty, but imagine how nice it’d look and feel after a shower! You keep running your fingers through his hair and he tilts his head. “You like? Pretty?” You nod and ask “Me pretty?” and Mr. Silvair smiles. “Pretty.” (Subconsciously, he starts paying closer attention to your hair or appearance, and how you take care of yourself.)
^ He isn’t particular about scents (other than preferring subtler ones) and will likely use whatever you use unless asked otherwise. Don’t expect him to pick up a hair or skincare routine though.
The first few days especially, Mr. Silvair is so focused on seeing and learning as much as possible, that he’ll likely be up late. He doesn’t really get the whole day and night thing, so you have to tell him that rest is good, and that you’re worried for him. “You worried?” “Yes. We rest.” “...Okay.”
His understanding of love is still different from yours, but (I think) he does care about you, and loves you in his own way! He makes sure you’re safe, helps you when you’re injured, and enjoys spending time with you. I’m not sure if he’d say “I love you” (since he doesn’t comprehend what that really means) but he’d at least reassure you that he likes you and finds you interesting :3
^ Though I’ll say if you’re a romance genre fan in our world, he picks up on the usage of “I love you” in media and if it matches his emotions, he might try it out and see how you react
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queer-ragnelle · 1 day ago
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Understand is is a very weird question to get out the blue so no offence taken if this gets left in the inbox, but I was wondering how (if at all) to integrate transgender knights into arthurian retellings/adaptations ect while trying to keep it vaguely true to the medievalisms of the whole thing? I know its easy and liberating to just go 'fuck it everything queer' and its a totally valid way to go about it, but (as a trans person) I like having a narrative examine queerphobia and other structual issues with the setting - gives the whole thing a bit of meat (in my personal tastes). That being said, it feels like its a nightmare to try and have a transmasc knight stay stealth in this place! Everyone feels like theyre getting stipped and tended to after breaking a rib in a joust or merlin shows up and is a dick about pronouns and outs you to get you married to a Roman king. Stuff like that - things that feel a little easier to dodge when its a civillian character, not an ruling class.
Is this a 'kill the cop in your brain' kinda deal? As a queer storyteller yourself do you have any tips or strategies or tools you use to crowbar this kinda stuff a little easier together? Or do you know any stories/retellings/academic texts ect that cover these kinda things (even if its in a 'for the love of god, don't do that' way). Love the work you do for this fandom a lot, regardless of your answer! Hope you have a good day.
Hello anon! This is a great question.
Now let me preface this by saying I’m not transgender and I’m not a medievalist. There are plenty of trans medievalists on tumblr, but I’m not one of ‘em. So my answer is coming from a queer but cis author and enthusiast perspective. I'm going to provide lots of links to read things as well so everyone can draw their own conclusions from the material.
I think a large part of this does come down to “kill the cop in your head.” But at the same time, I’ve been exactly where you are wondering, “How can I make this story feel authentic to its era without torturing the trans characters?” Because you’re right, there’s a lot of nudity and close proximity interaction between knights in the medieval stories and Merlin is totally the type to be a dick about pronouns. I've also searched and struggled to find a medieval-set story that manages to incorporate queerness in a period-appropriate way (so far as we can guess) while balancing the narrative as to not tip into something deeply unpleasant for the target audience to read. (See: the series by Lavinia Collins, which has great queer rep, yay! But tons of horrors previously unseen and still unnecessary, boo!) So where does that leave us?
Well first I’m going to give you an example of how not to handle transness in an Arthurian story....
The book Once & Future and its sequel Sword in the Stars by Amy Rose Capetta and Cory McCarthy went with the phenomenon you already described as, “fuck it, everything queer.” It doesn't take place in the past, but does use the medieval stories as more than reference, it's not as divergent as something like Port Eternity by C. J. Cherryh, the reincarnated characters do interact with the past directly at times, so I'm using it as an example.
Anyway most characters are either gay (umbrella term) or trans. Except the way trans characters are treated sucks majorly (in my opinion). I completely lost faith in book 1 after the introduction of Lamorak, a gender fluid knight who uses they/them pronouns. Merlin misgenders them and gets corrected by Kay, to which Merlin does this whole self flagellation routine about. Lamorak is also disabled, missing their left hand. (Why isn't it Bedwyr? Anyway not the point...) Lamorak gets no dialogue here whatsoever, all agency is completely stripped from them regarding their disability and their gender identity. Double whammy.
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This is worsened when Percival gets introduced, as Merlin then makes a point of asking for pronoun clarification in the most obnoxious way possible. To which Percival takes no offense at the weird slight against his sibling and tells Merlin his pronouns.
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But what about the sequel? Surely these two queer authors improved with time.....
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Is this a joke? Is this the best way they could indicate the inclusive realm of Avalon? Why not just describe the women as they are, all shapes and sizes, and let the reader figure it out? The authorial intent would be so obvious by this point. Instead they say it… like that. Gag.
It only gets worse when Mordred is born. Then they're weird about a literal infant.
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What in the bio essentialism? If the characters have been living in a future that’s broken out of the gender binary, the baby’s genitals should be irrelevant. Gwen’s literally saying Mordred is going to fulfill the evil prophecy because he was born with a penis. Even if this is intended to be a teaching moment, I hate how it’s handled. These quotes are in order of appearance in the books, so after the subtextual implications of all that came before, this last part really doesn’t sit right with me. Sorry I find these books completely abhorrent. They've won awards, they’re beloved by many. Maybe it's me. But no thanks.
Honestly, so long as you're not blatantly offensive with your handling of such things, I think you'll be fine. It's important to remember that even if one is part of a demographic they're depicting, it's always a good idea to hire sensitivity readers and take that feedback seriously. Not everyone will love your work, there will be advice you don't utilize, with time you'll be able to weed out the bad faith feedback, (the "all depiction is glorification" crowd) and ignore it. But it's so important to open oneself up to constructive criticism so you can learn and your work can develop into the best possible version of itself.
Now let's get to some ways you can go about researching a way to do this that fits in your story. It’s important to remember that throughout human history, many people lived stealth their whole lives and we don’t know about them for that reason, not because no transgender folks ever lived authentically and happily in medieval times. So it’s never impossible to incorporate a trans character into a story who experiences no direct violence, even if the world they live in isn’t presented as a queer utopia. The other thing is that public opinion regarding queerness, cross dressing, etc have varied a lot over the centuries and were vastly different depending on location. Not every “woman” found in armor would have been treated as poorly as Joan of Arc. So there’s lots of wiggle room for interpretation when you go about writing these narratives. The majority of my examples deal with the ruling class so they address the concerns you mentioned with added scrutiny a noble would face if they were to experiment with gender presentation compared to a commoner. I’ll be spoiling the plots of everything on the list to make clear why I’m suggesting them.
My initial advice would be to read medieval literature with queer themes followed by essays on the subject. The best examples I know of are:
Yde et Olive
Transmasc knight (good ending). 12th century French romance. Yde’s mother Clarisse died giving birth to her & later when Yde reaches maturity, her father makes advances, so she disguises herself as a man & flees. Yde becomes a successful knight & is married to the king’s only daughter, Olive. When it comes time to consummate the marriage, Yde must confess the truth of his identity to Olive, who vows to keep it secret. This is overheard by the king who then attempts to uncover Yde’s identity but is stopped by an angel who chastises the king for harassing such a good vassal. Then Yde is transformed into a man, the king dies, & Yde is able to have a child with Olive. They name him Croissant as if it couldn’t get any more French than it already was. Anyway the story alternates pronouns for Yde given the situation which is pretty neat & in the end he gets to live his best life! Yay!
Le Roman de Silence
Transmasc knight (bad ending). A 13th century French romance about a baby girl named Silence. Silence is raised as a boy because King Eban won’t allow women to inherit property. Like many medieval romances, the hero's adventure is often punctuated with personified emotions (Dame Fortune, Lady Love, etc) but Silence is tormented by Nature & Nurture as he comes into adulthood. He becomes a knight & eventually takes on an "impossible" quest, to capture Merlin, which supposedly can only be done by a woman. Content warning for the ending, it does not go well for Silence. Merlin reveals his backstory, & he’s forced to take a feminized version of his name, live as a woman, & marry the king to keep his lands.
Wigalois by Wirnt von Grafenberg
A 13th century German romance that follows Gawain’s son, Wigalois [Gingalain], but this ain’t about him. There’s a character Marine who fights as a knight. She’s consistently referred to with she/her pronouns, but she’s renowned for her knightly virtues & fights alongside the men in the war. She’s treated very well narratively & dies in battle after apprehending a high-value hostage. Everyone mourns her & there’s a big funeral held in her honor. So even if Marine never presented herself as a man the way Yde or Silence do, she provides an example of a female thriving in a male role. Food for thought.
Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach
Another German banger from the 13th century. This one’s about a cis male knight but Parzival has transmasc vibes. Trust me. Here’s my favorite article about it called The Clothes Make The Man - Parzival Dressed & Undressed by Michael D. Amey that really illustrates what I mean.
After that, you can check out these retellings:
The Story of Silence by Alex Myers
I bought this but haven't read it yet. It’s a retelling about the aforementioned Le Roman de Silence. This book uses neutral they/them pronouns to refer to Silence, which I can say from experience sometimes causes confusion with readers, so it's good to study how this author did it & determine if that method feels right for you. (If you ever decide to do something like that with a character.)
Spear by Nicola Griffith + Spear's Author's Note
I enjoyed this one, beautiful prose. It didn’t feel like the most comprehensive Grail Quest retelling, but Peretur can be interpreted as a butch lesbian or transmasc, it’s ambiguous. She only uses masculine pronouns when stealth, otherwise using she/her, but it has a happy ending! It’s firmly set in the era & felt authentic on that front while letting the queer characters relax. Peretur isn’t alone. (A/G/L enjoyers keep winning + sapphic lady of the lake ftw + the other hotties Peretur pulled.) Definitely worth checking out.
The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman
This book just came out in 2024. Including it here is already a spoiler given the topic but I’m going to spoil fully from this point on so ignore this if that’s a problem. This is the best example I can give for your reading/writing tastes based on the ask; Dinadan is a trans man. His transness isn’t revealed in the main character Collum’s pov, but in Dinadan’s backstory pov, opening in his childhood. He & his twin brother were sent to different schools but young Dinadan would leave the girl’s school to practice knightly skills with the fay, which retroactively explains why he has a fairy sword that Collum was admiring. In exchange for this training, the fay ask that Dinadan slay Merlin. Which he agrees to while never believing he actually can, but the wrath of the fay in the afterlife is worth his ability to live as a knight. I love how it was all handled firstly because Dinadan has a fighting style that works for his smaller frame & because every knight has a different fighting style (Dagonet’s is “If it sucks hit da bricks.”) Dinadan doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb yet his physicality is accounted for. Secondly Dinadan explains the lengths he goes to in order to stay stealth from obvious ones like binding his breasts to pretending to shave his face every couple days & wearing a packer. Later on, Dinadan’s secrets are revealed when he goes swimming in the ocean with Palomides (who evidentially already knew) & Collum joins them. Collum had no idea, which I think brings up an interesting point about all of this which also reminds me of Gawain not recognizing that Beaumains was Gareth—the power of expectation. Just as Gawain expected to find a kitchen boy & would have no reason to assume his brother (who hit puberty since they last saw each other) would be stealth in the kitchens so therefore didn’t recognize him, Collum expects to find men as knights of the Round Table, so when Sir Dinadan is introduced, & Collum had heard of him before, Dinadan’s stature & high voice don’t register to Collum as anything but traits that this guy Dinadan happens to have. Learning Dinadan’s secret in the presence of another knight who already knows & is chill about it also encourages Collum to be accepting too. So giving Dinadan at least one ally in his corner throughout the story went a long way. In the end Merlin, who can only be killed by a man (which is why Nimue had to settle for sealing him away) is stabbed by Dinadan. So it’s like a reverse Silence/Éowyn situation that Dinadan’s gender is affirmed in his ability to kill Merlin. This book also includes the part from Le Morte d’Arthur where Dinadan’s forced to wear a dress, which in this context is very transphobic, but that’s the point. It’s made better when Dinadan gets to go insano style on Merlin so he gets payback. Just a heads up about that.
Some fantasy/scifi that’s not Arthurian but may help, as Arthuriana is largely fantasy to begin with, this may help you determine where on the spectrum your taste/writing falls regarding the bending of reality/history to fit your narrative.
Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf
1928 novel about a character named Orlando living during the reign of Elizabeth I. Orlando is born male, then at some point in his early adulthood, falls into a deep sleep from which he awakens the exact same person, now metamorphosed to be female. Orlando, for her part, adopts this new role immediately & keeps on moving. She lives for 300 years as such & has many adventures, including an instance where she then presents as a man to elude marriage. Transitioned so she could cross dress in the other direction. She would’ve done numbers on tumblr. Ultimately, Orlando does marry… a gnc sea captain! The success of their marriage is attributed to their similarities in gender non-conformity. Even though this book only remains in the late medieval era for the opening, I think it’s a poignant example of a transgender individual living their life in their time & still getting to enjoy themselves without excessive suffering that may provide lots of inspiration.
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin
1970 Hugo & Nebula award winning novel. A fascinating examination of gender from the point of view of a cis man named Genly Ai having to reconcile his interpretation of the gender binary when confronted with a society who operates outside that. His travels with ambisexual Estravan challenges what Ai understands about the universe. His ignorance forms the backbone of the narrative as he grows close to a person from this other society. Even if it’s not a medieval setting, it may help you develop a narrative voice regarding this subject you’re able to bring to your work. Also it’s just really good.
The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner
2007 Locus award winner, Nebula & Gaylactic Spectrum nominee. High fantasy medieval setting. Katherine is a country girl brought to the big city Riverside by her uncle the Duke where she’s offered the opportunity to train as swordsman (ie cross dress) instead of political marriage. She’s unsure of the reasoning behind her uncle’s motivations for doing this, but goes along with it & kicks ass. A preview is available on Google books (linked).
The Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb
This is my favorite series ever. It spans 16 books published between 1995-2017. The fandom on tumblr & ao3 is hugely active. (Avoid tags to dodge major spoilers or check it out for amazing art & many quotes!) The series has many gnc characters in a fantasy medieval setting. First & foremost, The Fool, who’s in all the books & whose gender ambiguity is mentioned book 1, to which he says, “None of your business.” The character ever. Without getting too specific, there are several trans characters including gender fluid characters who will alternate between masc/fem presentation & pronouns. This is my favorite example of gender fluid characters in any fantasy I’ve read, especially since there are several & each feels unique. In The Liveship Traders trilogy, Amber coaches another woman how to hide her period while pretending to be a ship’s boy by using a sock, so if anyone finds the blood on it, she can say she cut her foot. Little things like that really deepened the realism in an otherwise fantastical story for me, because addressing those details answers questions my overly analytical mind would ask & wonder about if unacknowledged.
Lastly I'd like to suggest the article Armour of an Alienating Identity by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. While it doesn't mention Parzival (the text), it does mention Perceval (the character), as well as Gareth Beaumains, Lancelot, Gawain, Yvain, and even Arthur himself. It goes on to reference endless examples to support its thesis including Greek heroes such as Achilles and Odysseus with references to many different medieval stories from Old English Beowulf to the Irish Ulster cycle to the works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Most (if not all) of the texts mentioned in this essay can be found on my blog for cross reference if you desire, although the article already contains many quotes.
Okay I think that’s all I got. I’ve given you a ton to think about and read. Ultimately I don’t think there’s a clean cut answer for this. Nuance, you know? Having hired an editor and many sensitivity readers myself, it really is just a professional a vibe check sometimes. You write what you want to the best of your ability, then other people weigh in, and you keep tweaking it until it’s as good as you can possibly make it. During development, and even in its final form, there will be people who don’t enjoy your story and that’s fine. It isn’t for everyone, it’s for you and your audience. No single experience in this life is the same so each fictional depiction emulating life will also be unique, there’s no “right” answer on how to write this or anything else, only the way you want to.
Hopefully now you have some tools to help you learn how best to express your vision. I know they gave me a lot of insight and ideas I lacked before when writing trans characters in my books. Thank you for trusting me with this question and good luck with your project! Take care! :^)
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fairiesthrum · 3 days ago
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Can I be 🧚‍♀️ anon if it's not taken pls!! And ok... what are your thoughts on cult leader Geto? 🫣🫣
🎀 — OFC U CAN BE FAIRY ANON AHAKSJAUSJ
and abt cult leader geto hmmmm (incoming yap session y’all)
ngl, i expect his wife to absolutely HATE his guts. like i’m talking melania trump core (i made a small post abt this before).
i can just imagine some young woman from a powerful clan being forced to marry some weirdo obsessed with monkeys (cuz yes, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking abt when he said monkeys and thought he was insane in the beginning. well... you still think he’s crazy).
i would describe suguru’s wife to be the “nonchalant” kind, very elegant, just cares abt that bag and living a good life. you have no interest in sexual relations with him at first (though he was super hot and that’s what pushed you to agree to the marriage in the first place), and neither does he (the both of you actually sleep in separate rooms). suguru only married you to gain support and followers. so all you had to do was make appearances beside him, sit pretty, act like everything was fine, and spend the rest of your life not having to lift a finger whilst gawking at your husband’s dashing looks. easy enough, right?
wrong. you actually end up learning he’s a cult leader through these strange meetings (yeah, your parents totally forgot to fill you in abt that part).
it sets you off (like fr mom and dad? a cult leader??) and you become irritated with him and everything he does more and more as the days pass. you start acting like an entirely different person, smacking his hand away when he tries to hold it in public, opting to clutch onto your designer purse instead. and geto just stands there with a close-eyed smile, laughing it off.
you couldn’t even stand to look at him. you married a psycho obsessed with killing non-sorcerers. but what could you do? your parents practically sold you to him! so the smartest thing you could think of in terms of fighting back was to not listen to a word he says. and it gets really awkward for the people around you both when you’re constantly acting like a bitch and geto sits there with a tight smile, everyone else in the room sharing concerned and nervous glances.
nowadays, all you ever really did was grovel abt your terrible life while wearing your designer clothes and wiping your tears with the designer handkerchief that you pull out of your designer handbag #richpplproblems
but suguru brushes off your behavior all the time, assuming you were having trouble adjusting even though it’s been two months and you used to act pretty normal in the beginning of your marriage. maybe it was a lot to process? so, he doesn’t do anything abt your attitude… until you really embarrass him.
it ends up with him dragging you into his bedroom, away from prying eyes, seething and red-faced. it was completely unlike your usually calm and collected husband, and it made you smug that you finally got a reaction out of him. and it pacified something inside of you, a part that was desperate for revenge due to being stuck in this god awful marriage.
geto, being the ever so observant person he was notices the change in your eyes, resulting in a back and forth between you two consisting of yelling and screaming. until, he finally slams his lips onto yours, shutting you up.
clothes are ripped off and then the next thing you know, both of you are fucking on your marriage bed for the first time, gasping out between moans abt how much you can’t stand each other.
the rest of that night was spent hate-fucking, then acting normal and back to snide remarks the next day. until it happens again… and again… and again.
only because both of you are scared to admit you enjoy the steamy sex and the fact you’ve started having feelings for each other since you’re both stubborn. so, the two of you just find an excuse to fuck all the time by getting on each other’s nerves.
anyways, that’s my take on cult leader geto ₓₓ
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yandere-daydreams · 2 days ago
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Daytrip Illumi my beloved... and poor Darling. You capture how unnerving and unsettling he should be so well!
Illumi should be Strange and Uncanny even at his mildest(? not sure if an Illumi in love could be 'mild', but idk if it could be called volatile either. Darling was right, you can't ever tell with him); man was cosplaying Pinhead for a week. He could talk the whole time but just literally rattled at people. And poor Ghost, my stomach just dropped because everything so far was downright too tame and too thoughtful for a Yandere.
Aside from the porn, I was waiting for that drop. Darling really can't have nice things, can't she? Or rather, she can't have anything he's not able to take. Whether a Darling is defiant (Obedience Training, Ingress) or submissive (Daytrip) he's always going to pile on the trauma.
But the moment he started mouthing and groping at her in the car, I knew he was out of patience. Everything else that day was window dressing and foreplay, and the bit where she picks a cute, frilly, puff-sleeved dress really sold the toy and doll comparison later, she was so right at the observation that Illumi took her as a ballerina for his music box. In the end, the daytrip really wasn't for her to enjoy: he ripped up her dream dress, dashed her hope that her cat was doing well without her, and didn't get to eat anything at the picnic aside from the morsel he gave her. Girl couldn't even enjoy the scenery cause he blocked it off with himself. The end was so despondent in comparison to the beginning where she resolves to take any out that presents itself, falling asleep and giving into the dark (Illumi) swallowing her.
And meanwhile, Illumi's just had an epiphany on why his parents kept having kids even after the designated heir Killua. And also patting himself on the back cause he checked off all the boxes on his 'perfect romantic date to-do list', and gotten the *ideal* ending of having finally lost his v-card. 10/10, Great Day. Would do again sometime (but not too soon).
The juxtapostion between her opinion of how the daytrip went and his opinion of how it went must be... something. I almost don't want to know, and I don't know how to properly describe what this made me feel, but it's visceral.
i love it when you people treat my silly little fics like they need to be studied under a microscope,,,, i will be living on this ask for weeks thank you anon <3
illumi just makes me,,, yeah. i feel like there's so little you can do to actually fight against him (running's not an option when he has you under surveillance 24/7, fighting a seasoned hitman won't end well, etc.), but good behavior only makes him more likely to proceed with the awful things he would've done anyway, had you spent every minute from your inevitably kidnapping kicking, screaming, and cursing his name. he's got a running checklist of uncomfortable positions he'd like to see you in, and it's less a question of when you'll be ready for it and more what he'll have to do to make you compliant enough to be, if not a willing participant, than a docile one. i think he does care about your feelings and you loving him back, but your priorities are so drastically different that you two are never actually going to end up on the same page. in his mind, he's done his research (i.e. played roughly a hundred hours of the most popular dating sims he could get his hands on), been a good partner, and taken very good care of his beloved doll/pet/captive. in yours, you've been violated and abused by the man who both kidnapped you and admitted to killing your cat without blinking, and there's very little reconciliation from there.
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mirensiart · 3 days ago
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HIIII.
so like I'm new and I'll probably be around for a while!
ANYWAYS. you don't have to do this if it's against your boundaries, but how do you think the chain would react to a period?
like hypothetically, one of them is Trans, or gets cursed into a female body, how do you think that would go for them?
(can I be 🥁anon?)
Oooh don't worry anon!
I personally headcanon some of the boys as afab, so you're good, I don't mind questions like these at all!
I've been asked about the chain + periods before, but I don't think I've gone into detail about it before so! More under the cut hehe
(these are my own interpretation btw! U can headcanon the boys as whatever u want, my vision isn't like canon for the au, I like to leave it vague so anyway can project what they want! But these are what i personally like)
I feel like it depends on the period? Like ok so I'm personally a big enjoyer of sky, twi and wars as butch/transmasc, but they all have very different periods
Sky for example, I love the idea that he's one of the lucky ones who have really short non painful periods, like maybe they hurt the first day a little bit and that's it
Wars on the other hand is full blown painful as fuck period cramps, he is MISERABLE!! nausea, headaches, included. They are short though, intense but short
Twilight is like right in the middle in the sense that they are painful, but they're not as bad as Wars', however they are long, like more than normal, so they're pretty uncomfortable especially on the road
Anyway, I feel like the others would react differently depending on who's it is
Like, no one really notices when Sky has his, like maybe they feel mild pain but they all shrug it as something else.
Wars is like, the most chaotic thing ever and I can see all of the amab links absolutely losing it like oh my god??? What IS THIS??? YOY GO THROUGH THIS EVERY MONTH???
I've mentioned it before, but I personally love the headcanon that wind & time went through the war of eras pre linked universe so they both know about Wars' chaotic periods, but they're both completely floored over how much they really hurt lmao LIKE WOW U WEREN'T LYING ABOUT THIS, ALL THIS TIME WE THOUGHT U WERE JUST DRAMATIC????
Sky is also in the surprised club despite having periods himself, cause like WDYM PERIODS HURT THIS BAD??? WTF???
Twilight's high pain tolerance + him being afab means he's not as affected during it, as like, helps calms everyone down and frets lol
When twilight's period comes around, everyone is miserable cause wdym we have to go through this AGAIN?
The periods eventually synchronize though cause that's what happens when u travel for a long time with other period havers, and shit goes down
Stay at camp or stay at the inn day(s) until they all feel better again
Anyway, thank you for the ask 🥁anon! And sorry for the extensive period talk lol
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eliotquillon · 2 days ago
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I NEED a wilson and cameron meta/drabble, how did they meet? how are they on a first-name basis? why is wilson such a big hameron shipper?
anon i love you . thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about wilson and cameron!!!
speaking about them briefly as Characters, and not as ‘people’: the parallels between then both are really, really fascinating. by the end of the show, both of them have been married three times. she lost her first husband; he lost amber. wilson contracts thymus cancer, and cameron’s first husband had thyroid cancer before it metastasised—both are endocrine. they are both explicitly attracted to this idea of ‘neediness’; they have both fallen in love with someone else while still married (though only one of them acted on it); they’re both very concerned with…how do i put this, externality?? there’s a conflict in how they want to present themselves to the world versus how they really feel. cameron consistently has these high-brow morals that she struggles to follow through on, either because they conflict with each other or because it isn’t easy to act on. wilson wants to be seen as a good guy, wants to give all he can to people, and often does so—but is also itching, sometimes, for an excuse to act out, and he and house are drawn to each other as a result. i think really the best way to sum them up is that they’re puzzle pieces that look like they fit, but…don’t.
anyway. onto them as ‘people’, i guess:
truth be told i think wilson and cameron truly just met in the context of her showing up to work one day as one of house’s fellows. that said. i have NEVER been able to get to the bottom of why wilson randomly calls her ‘allison’ in maternity and at this point i don’t think i ever will. literally one of the first houseposts i did on main was about this because i was like ‘what’. but at a best guess i would say this was intended as shorthand/foreshadowing for the fact that, well, cameron is by far the fellow that wilson hangs out with the most. they get tons of scenes and subplots together in s1 and 2. and i think she’s probably the fellow he likes the most. she’s nice, she’s willing to stand up for herself, she cares about house—these are all qualities that wilson either has himself or seems to wish he had, and while foreman and chase each have some of these, cameron’s really the only one who starts off with all three. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY THAT CAMERON IS PERFECT or flawless because like. Lol no. but her good qualities are mostly things that wilson values, and i think that’s important; it’s probably why they appear to get along). (also, logistically speaking—cameron is a big focus of that episode, and the ones after it, because it’s the leadup to the dead husband reveal. it makes sense to reveal her first name to a casual watcher at this point, it just so happens that wilson being the one to do so feels…wonky, in retrospect. it probably would’ve made more sense for it to be foreman or chase to reveal her first name—she’s the one to repeatedly use theirs in her self help book era—but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
as to why wilson is such a huge hameron shipper: DESPITE EVERYTHING I HAVE SAID ABOVE, i think this is less about cameron and more about house. don’t get it twisted: wilson for sure ‘approves’ of cameron. she’s good at reading him—although she overplays it, in the end—she has all of the above listed qualities, and, y’know. nobody else is exactly throwing themselves at house at this point. she’s young and pretty, what’s not to like. but for all of this approval, all that he eggs house on…he still gives her a shovel talk. he warns her not to hurt house’s feelings, that she has the power to do so. he likes cameron, sure, but he’s obviously far, far more invested in house. and house is entertaining it, at least briefly! he buys a corsage and asks for tips on what to say. he’s willing to give it a go. this, i think, is why wilson wants house to go for it—not because cameron is particularly special, but because house is open to the idea and on paper it might be good for him. key words being on paper, lol. wilson is on board and he thinks house needs the extra push. note how wilson’s hameron shipping basically melts away entirely after stacy returns—he’s sure as hell not encouraging that relationship, but it’s funny how he never suggests house rebound with cameron instead. if house takes it off the table entirely, then wilson follows suit.
you did not ask for this, but: my own personal headcanon is that when cameron leaves for chicago, her and wilson stay on christmas card terms—but like. weirdly passive aggressive christmas card terms. on paper the friendliness is still there, she still helped him through the grief of amber, but—she severed ties with house. she believes him to be poison. wilson, though technically his own person…is still an extension. wilson i think probably has similarly cool feelings about her, too. but they’re both trapped in a kill-em-with-kindness-off wherein they keep promising to see each other if wilson ever ends up in chicago for a conference. he does not ever end up in chicago for a conference. lmao. ultimately i think it’s kind of a sad end to what seemed to be a genuine friendship, but…they both chose a side. i don’t think the friendship survives it.
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lara4eclipze · 14 hours ago
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›› there must be a good reason that you're gone
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sypnosis -» we don't talk anymore like we used to do , what was all of it for?
beware -» angst , nasty break up , going against girl code(?) , twice mentioned, lara x reader mentioned
talks -» for my anon 🫢!! hi missed you soo much
taglist (open) : @nyssalvr @ohmyhaely @vrtualstar @jellaaa @c-yerim
you don't know where you went wrong — did you give too little love? did you not give her enough attention? yet as much as you asked yourself nothing came up nothing answered you
moments that lingered in your mind made it seem like you were the problem yet you never were , sophia has never been loyal as much as you tried to make it seem like , she's always behind your back talking to a new woman
you only reached your breaking point when she started forgetting important dates such as your birthday, your anniversary and the day you both made it official
"now the maknae! hello y/n , the question for you is , have you ever broken up with someone and how did it go" the interviewer asks as he approached you
"이 질문에 대답할 수 있나요? (can we answer this)" nayeon asks looking behind the cameras towards their manager who just nods
"ohh , well uhm I have had one and it really was a bit messy , yet I think that was a very good lesson for me" you answer recalling everything that happened during that night , "우리 막내가 다 컸네요! (our maknae is all grown up)" jihyo says giggling as the rest say all their memories when you first debuted
"that sums it up, again twice everyone!" the host says before you and your group bid goodbye , " one in a million! we are twice!" the group says "우리 새 노래를 들어주세요 Strategy! (please listen to our new song strategy)" momo says before the cameras cut
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
after the program you secretly went out to meet your now girlfriend lara , after the break up you didn't really know what to do but good thing she was there and from that point forward you both started dating
"hi love!" you said hugging lara as she ran up to you to hug you as well , "I missed you! , anyways let's go?" lara asks leading you inside the kats dorm
inside the dorm you were greeted by manon who was sitting down watching some tiktoks "hey" you greet
finally making it to lara's room she sits you down on her bed as she takes a seat on your lap, "so you miss me?" you ask cocky about her missing you , "obviously miss y/n" she replied
just before both your lips touch the door opens with sophia oblivious that you were here , "lara have you seen my- oh sorry" she says looking at the scene before her you and lara just being lovey dovey , suddenly the whole mood changed lara was now on the bed next to you sensing the unease , as sophia exits you two let out a heavy sigh
"baby I feel guilty, I mean she's my friend and I date her ex?" lara admits you look at the frown on her lips you held her face with your hands making her look at you "baby I understand , but know that she did something I probably won't forgive her for"
"ill never do that to you" lara says
"I hope not , that's the exact words sophia said" you chuckle remembering the countless lies she told you
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
it was late yet you couldn't sleep so you left lara on the bed to get some water , at the kitchen was her , sophia
"hey" she greets , you took note of how she was still wearing the bracelet you gave her for your first monthsary
"hello , just need some water" you replied awkwardly , you get to the fridge and take out lara's water bottle and drink out of it
you were walking back by this point , but you hear sophia mutter something , "I'm sorry , could you maybe give me a second chance?"
"no soph , I'm tired plus me and lara are together , I've never felt any better with anyone else" you replied trying your best not to look at her , and just continue walking
"how is that okay? — we break up and you get with my friend? , how fucked up is that?" she reasons as you hear her sniffle
"soph , you cannot be talking about what's fucked up when you cheated on me , fuck I'm not gonna have this conversation again, goodnight" you replied mad at her audacity to get upset over you picking lara , yet you didn't mention that instead going inside the girls room
"babe? — where'd you go?" lara asks in a groggy voice as she opens her eyes , you're so glad you chose the woman who knows how to treat you
"just drank some water love" you replied trying not to sound like you just finished crying , you both lay down with her in the crook of your neck as she hums a gentle tune
"I love you so much" you whisper as you place a kiss on her head
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cocainever · 1 day ago
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hiii i love ur blog!! soo how do u prevent stress eating during exam week??
hii anon!! Thank you for sending an ask ❤️❤️😌
During exam week I don’t eat..at least I try not to. Just kidding!! That’s probably the worst thing you can do to yourself. Adopt a high carb diet to help support brain function, proteins to stay full so you aren’t distracted about how hungry you are, and fats to satisfy so you don’t eat the entire kitchen.
For example in the morning I have tests until the day ends (one test, 7 hours) so I would get something with carbs and protein and maybe some fats. Maybe ill eat a slice of (regular) whole wheat toast for complex carbs, and an egg or peanut butter for protein and healthy fats.
During lunch if you don’t have continued testing you can skip it but if you do have testing I would have crackers with turkey, for carbs and protein again. Or maybe a sandwich with fruit for protein, fats and carbs.
And dinner doesn’t necessarily matter but you could probably just have what you regularly eat.
Anyways because you’re eating regularly, low calorie meals your body won’t think it’s starving so you’ll be less likely to binge when it’s all done. And it will be easy to go back to restricting because you’ve been eating in a moderated, controlled manner.
Also you should try to keep a regular sleep schedule; I have school at 7:05 am so I wake up at 5:30 to do my makeup and get to school. It gives me time to even practice my instrument or study in the library. So, I go to sleep at 9 or 10, and by the latest 11 if I want to watch tv/not busy.
Good luck to you on your exams and anyone else who is taking them! Stay safe and stay healthy! ❤️❤️❤️
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slasherparty · 19 hours ago
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Hey uh, I'm new to the Beetlejuice fandom, and I was wondering if you could do a bjxreader where the reader dies as of a result of something bj did, and he feels guilty about it? i crave angst, sorry if this is annoying
it’s not annoying! i love reading angst if it has a rewarding payoff. dunno how rewarding it’ll be here, but it’s good for character study purposes either way. thanks anon!
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beetlejuice 🪲 x reader, accidental death (whoopsie!)
his hand, it was a clumsy thing... a grotesque parody of life, all bony fingers and inky black nails. it reached out, a macabre puppet show, and brushed against your cheek. a chill, an unnatural cold, seeped into your skin. you should have known better than to trust a poltergeist with such a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"A little surprise for my favorite mortal," he had purred, a sinister grin splitting his cadaverous face. you’d laughed, a light, airy sound that now seemed so far away. it was a mistake, a fatal one. the prank, a harmless little trick, had spiraled out of control, a chaotic whirlwind that swept you away; "away" being precisely four stories down into the basement of your apartment building.
beetlejuice, the self-proclaimed "Ghost with the Most," has always prided himself on his ability to stir up trouble without serious consequences (in his opinion, anyway). however, this particular mishap proved to be a costly error. a well-intentioned, albeit reckless, prank involving a trap door had inadvertently led to your untimely demise.
now, here you were, a ghost, a wisp of ethereal energy tethered to a world you could no longer fully inhabit. in the immediate aftermath, you watched as beetlejuice paced, his usual manic energy diluted to a haunted stillness. his eyes, only moments ago filled with their trademark mischief, were now shadowed with shock and remorse.
a part of you, a tiny, twisted part, reveled in his misery. but the larger part, the part that was still you, ached with a profound sadness. though you'd scarcely begun to process it, you'd been robbed of your life, a cruel twist of fate orchestrated by such a stupid and poorly set-up joke.
yet, as you watched beetlejuice begin to tear himself apart over it, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of peace. perhaps it was the knowledge that he was now there, forever, nothing keeping him apart from you. or maybe it was the hope that, together, you could find a way to make sense of this tragic turn of events.
left as a fragile spirit adrift in a sea of uncertainty and the endless maze of the neitherworld processing office, bj finds himself once again in the position of being a guide (he even dons the hat for you).
as the days turned into weeks, you began to adjust to your new existence. you learned to phase through walls, to levitate, to communicate telepathically. when you weren't stuck haunting your apartment, you explored the neitherworld, with bj's ever-present companionship. he'd become a bit of a helicopter since the accident. even though you were dead now, with virtually nothing around to seriously harm you, you could tell the guilt had riddled him with anxiety.
the sight of your spectral form, a pale echo of your vibrant self, haunted whatever was left of beetlejuice's conscience. the memory of your warm living touch, a spark that ignited a strange, twisted affection, lingered like a phantom limb. you still touch him, just as soft as in life, but it's now a bittersweet reminder of a life cut short, a casualty of his own selfish schemes.
he became a constant source of both comfort and chaos. he would spend hours pouring over ancient grimoires, searching for a way to restore you to life, at the behest of juno who of course discouraged any and all investigation into such dangerous breaches of the laws around life and death. "The rules are there for a reason, you brat," she'd remind him, smoke fuming from her neck. you knew this wouldn't discourage him; nothing juno ever said did. but there was some truth to her words... it would be impossible to truly bring you back to the living world in any meaningful, non-invasive way.
regardless, he's always remained determined to make amends, if not to restore your life then to help you transition smoothly into this strange new existence. perhaps, through this unexpected role, he can atone for his past mistakes… and maybe even keep you around, for as long as you'll still have him.
you've often wondered if bj is truly sorry for what he's done. was his remorse genuine, or was it simply a performance, a way to manipulate your emotions? you could never be sure. but you knew one thing for certain: you were bound to him, a ghostly tether that neither time nor death could sever. and maybe that made it all okay, in the end.
bit of a long one! thanks for reading!! 💌
you can find more of my writing here on ao3!
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fisherrprince · 3 months ago
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did you hear that the newest movie confirmed kaishin cousins? most people have jumped ship because of it
yeah except I didn’t hear most people jumped ship, I heard most people straight up told gosho no you didn’t LMAO
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necrotic-nephilim · 3 months ago
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bftc jaytim fuck nasty in their batman suits🩷
CORRECT THEY DO. it's like you live in my brain, anon. and for that, you get a full fic bc i've wanted to write this anyway and you gave me an excuse to. have 6k words worth of dirtybadwrong JayTim. rough sex, blood play, pain play, degradation, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove vibes so be warned. but also enjoy bc ily for this thought anon 🩷
“You look ridiculous in that get-up. Like a kid out for trick-or-treats.” The words were just as brutal as the fight was. Jason had the bodyweight and training to easily pin Tim, now that he was done toying around. 
Of course, toying around for Jason Todd looked like bloody slashes across Tim’s back, base of his skull, and his forehead. Picking one of Bruce’s older suits may have been a bad idea on Tim’s part. The armor was thinner and easier for Jason to slash through with a batarang in a clenched fist. 
Tim had managed to knock the batarang out of Jason’s hand, but that also seemed like a bad idea now, with Jason on top of Tim. His fists were even more brutal, blunt weapons and he’d reinforced the gloves to make his punches hit harder across Tim’s face. 
There was blood pouring from Tim’s nose and mouth. With all the pain flaring across his body, it was hard for him to get a good read on if anything was broken or not. 
All he knew was it hurt. His head spun from slamming against the concrete. It was hard for Tim to blink his eyes into focus. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t. Jason was leaning in so close, his mask was all Tim could see. Tim dizzily wondered how the glowing eyes didn’t impede Jason’s vision. 
“Look at me,” Jason demanded. His voice was robotic behind the thick metal mouthpiece. One of his fists pulled back for another punch. “Do you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?”
By some miracle, Tim managed to catch the punch before it connected with his face. The muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed at the animalistic strength Jason pushed back with, inching his fist closer and closer to connecting. If it did manage to connect, Tim knew his own hand in the way wouldn’t do much to soften the blow. If anything, Jason would shatter Tim’s knuckles against his own nose.
Not a pretty thought.
“That mad I said no to being your Robin?” Tim wheezed. It was hard to get air in his lungs, with Jason perched on his chest, putting all his weight on Tim’s midsection. 
Jason scoffed with cruel amusement. “You’re a second choice, Drake. It doesn’t matter to me if you say no, I can always ask the original. He’d at least put up a better fight than you’re managing.”
Tim couldn’t argue that. He thought he’d have some kind of chance in a fight against Jason, but it was a losing game to confront Jason on his turf, in a suit Tim wasn’t comfortable in. He was too stupid to even bring his bo staff.
A great Batman he was turning out to be.
With bloody teeth, Tim smiled. “You’re right. Is that why I’m your reflection, Jason? Two second rate Robins who will never be the original?” He managed a laugh against protesting ribs. “For what it’s worth, I still think I’m better than you. Least I didn’t die.”
He couldn’t see the look on Jason’s face, but he didn’t need to. The feral yell that came out of Jason spoke for itself at how well Tim got under his skin. Jason’s other fist came barreling toward Tim’s face, but he managed to move his head out of the way, making it only connect with the ground. Jason’s punch was hard enough to make the concrete crack.
Even with the reinforced gloves, that had to hurt. Maybe a couple cracked bones, if Tim was lucky. Jason couldn’t hit as hard if he injured himself. 
That was a solid plan. If he’d actually planned it in the first place. 
“Can’t believe I ever liked you, Drake,” Jason snarled, pulling his hand free from the concrete. He flexed his fingers just a bit too slow. He definitely hurt himself, even if he was trying to hide it. Jason went for his utility belt, grabbing another batarang. 
“Flattering,” Tim deadpanned. He tried to elbow Jason in the neck, but Jason easily twisted away from the blow. 
“I really did you know,” Jason said. Maybe it was the mask, but Tim could’ve sworn Jason’s tone changed slightly. “If Bruce hadn’t corrupted you, you really could’ve been something.”
Tim ignored the comment about Bruce. Bruce’s death was too raw for Tim to be able to look at his grief about it head-on. “Can’t say the feeling was mutual,” Tim grunted. He tried to slash his glove fins across Jason’s face. But Jason was smarter. He had a more durable suit that made the blow easily glance off. 
Damn Tim for picking this suit. He idealized Bruce’s image too much and forwent practicality. He was paying for it now. A new suit would’ve had proper weapons worked into the wrists for Tim to easily flick out. 
“I don’t know about that,” Jason mocked with a cold laugh. “Remind me again Drake, who broke me out of prison?”
He had a point. 
“Real great job you’ve done repaying that kindness,” Tim muttered. He avoided addressing it directly. He didn’t owe Jason his reasons. Especially not with how they’d all blown up in his face. 
“I never needed your kindness,” Jason growled. He wrapped a hand around Tim’s throat and pressed down just enough to make it uncomfortable for Tim to breathe. “That’s what all you Bats could never get through your skulls. I didn’t need to be Bruce’s pity project, and I definitely didn’t need to be yours.”
“Trust me,” Tim fought to get the words out, trying to worm his fingers under Jason’s grip. “You don’t have my pity.”
“What do I have, then?”
“My contempt.” The more Tim struggled, the tighter Jason’s grip got. The sharp points of his claws were starting to dig into Tim’s skin and draw blood. Blood flow was cut off from Tim’s brain and he fought to keep hold of his consciousness. 
“Liar,” Jason hissed. “No one else is here, Tim. You don’t have to pretend and hide things from me I already know.”
Maybe passing out would be a good thing. Then, Tim would have a convenient reason for not answering Jason. A reason to not face the truth Jason wanted him to bare.
Tim knew that Jason probably knew. The way they’d looked at each other through the prison safety glass when Jason was locked up had a thousand unspoken words in just a shared smile. A promise, that maybe, if Jason cleaned himself up with this second chance, there could be something between them.
But Jason didn’t clean up. He flung himself in the opposite direction, if anything. A growing body count and an ugly reign of terror that was Tim’s job to stop.
He started this. He put misplaced faith in Jason. Tim’s bad judgment jeopardized Gotham. 
And now Jason wanted the unspoken part said out loud. Something a part of Tim would rather die than admit after all this. They both already knew. Making Tim say it was just an obvious attempt to humiliate him and Tim refused to sink to Jason’s level.
All this over a stupid crush. 
“Fine,” Jason continued when Tim didn’t say anything. “I’ll say it for you. You loved me.”
Tim made a face and twisted, finally forcing Jason’s hand free from his neck with a hard strike to his inner elbow. “It wasn’t love,” he insisted through grit teeth.
“What was it then?”
Tim didn’t say a word. He wasn’t going to give in to Jason’s cruelty.
“Tell you what,” Jason’s voice dropped low and almost sultry. “If you say it out loud, I’ll give you a free pass. No one will know.”
“A free pass?”
There was no way Jason was implying what Tim thought he was.
“Right here, right now.” Jason nodded. “Can’t say I’ll make it sweet, but something tells me you’re not the vanilla type anyway.”
Shit. He was implying that. Tim’s breath caught in his throat.
The answer should’ve been obvious. 
The answer was obvious. Tim was laying in a growing pool of his own blood because of Jason. Countless people were dead because of Jason. Bruce’s legacy was being destroyed because of Jason. Whatever little crush Tim had once had was long gone and replaced with disgust and hatred.
Most of it was. 
But some small piece of Tim clung to the way Jason grinned at him. And that small piece of him seemed to be steering the rest of him, making him hesitate on what should’ve been an easy answer. An easy chance to catch Jason off guard and get the upper hand in the fight.
Tim hoped the cowl hid enough of his face that his expression wasn’t readable. 
“Over my dead body,” Tim forced the words out, pulling himself back into reality. Praying Jason wouldn’t read into the pause. 
Jason’s body shifted. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and brought the batarang clenched in his fist to Tim’s neck, easily finding the jugular. “So be it. I agree anyway. Killing you is the best way to cut this goddamn feeling out of me.”
“What feeling?” Tim frowned, fingers twitching as he stalled, trying to think of a real plan. 
“No, no.” Jason shook his head and laughed. It was a hollow sound, this time. “You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. If you won’t say it, then I won’t either.”
Oh.
“You…” Tim sucked in a breath. He was on death’s edge, a blade to his neck, but somehow it was the furthest thing from his spinning mind. “You like me? Like that?” He said it like a stupid high schooler, too shy to even look their crush in the eye. 
“What difference does it make now?” Jason shifted his weight on Tim, bearing down more. “This was always how it was going to end, between us.”
“It makes all the difference,” Tim said. He didn’t know why it did. But he knew it did. Tim reached a hand up, but instead of going for Jason’s batarang, he went further. His fingers reached under his own cowl and tugged it off, baring his face to Jason. 
Vulnerability. A metaphorical white flag, surrendering to Jason. 
Tim was dangerously close to getting himself killed. He could feel it, in his beating heart and overflowing adrenaline. 
“I would’ve come at this from a different angle if I knew…” Tim started, before trailing off. They were still dancing around saying it directly.
Jason barked out another laugh. “Oh, would you? What, you would’ve come to talk instead of fight? You really think that would’ve worked?”
“Maybe-“
“I told you,” Jason’s grip on the batarang tightened, “I don’t need your fucking pity.”
“And you don’t have it,” Tim snapped back. Too angry. This angle was quickly slipping away from him. Shit. “You’re a psychopathic killer and I don’t know if you can ever been redeemed after what you’ve done. But I would’ve tried out of love, not pity, you sanctimonious asshole.”
Jason stuttered. He leaned back and breathed hard. Tim really wished he wasn’t wearing that stupid mask. “You said it wasn’t love.”
Tim took in a deep breath, and let himself fall over the ledge he’d been trying so hard to cling to since Jason pinned him. “I lied.”
For a moment, Tim was convinced he’d just sealed his own coffin. Whatever Jason’s feelings were, it didn’t seem like they were any particular deterrent to hurting Tim. He was inches away from killing Tim and leaving his body for someone else to find.
If they found Tim’s body at all.
But instead. Instead, Jason reached up and ripped the metal part of his mask off, tossing it aside to skitter off into the darkness.
And he kissed Tim.
Tim let out the breath he was holding against Jason’s mouth. And in turn, Jason breathed him in, greedy with his kiss. The batarang was kept firm against Tim’s throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Jason was kissing him. 
There was still the logical side of him screaming just how bad of an idea this was. All the reasons he could think of to not tangle with Jason were running circles across his mind. 
Tim ignored them and kissed Jason back. 
Jason tasted like metal and he smelled like gunpowder. Both of those things made sense and made Tim want more. He wanted every single part of Jason he could drink up, even from a single kiss. Jason’s tongue was in his mouth, licking and opening Tim up. They shared each other’s blood through the kiss, until Tim couldn’t tell whose was whose. 
The kiss was broken by Jason just as suddenly as it was started. Jason pulled back and raised the batarang. Panic flashed through Tim and he instinctively threw his hands up to cover his face and neck. 
The batarang slashed through Tim’s suit though, thankfully not giving him what might’ve been the stupidest death in the history of vigilantism. Jason didn’t seem to care about making sure the cut didn’t get Tim’s skin, though. Shallow wounds sprang across Tim’s skin and he hissed, watching Jason turn the suit to ribbons. The batarang was then tossed aside so Jason could rip off the suit as he leaned back. 
The bat symbol on Tim’s chest stayed in tact, but everything below it was ripped away, exposing him from his abs down to his thighs. Jason knew exactly how to unclip the utility belt and throw that aside, with the shreds of fabric. 
Cold air hit Tim’s most private areas. He wanted to cover himself, but he couldn’t get his hands to obey. His entire body was paralyzed under Jason’s gaze.
“Take off your mask,” Tim found his voice, rough and not sounding like himself.
Jason wore a cruel smirk. “No.” He did take off his gloves, though. Tim didn’t hide his sigh of relief. He didn’t want those claws on his skin. He was bleeding enough as it was.
The moment Jason’s hands were bare, he ran them over Tim’s skin. Tim hissed and flinched, but didn’t pull away. He let Jason’s warm hands claim his skin. Jason wasn’t kind or gentle. He smeared Tim’s blood around, exploring every bare inch. Tim’s stomach, his hips, his back, his legs. 
Jason curled a hand around Tim’s dick and Tim’s back arched. 
To be fair, this wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured sleeping with Jason. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 
Jason jerked Tim off rough and fast. The blood on his hand was slick enough to make a smooth glide over the callouses of his palm. Tim groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked into Jason’s hand. As much pain as his body was in, the pleasure was too distracting for him to care. Tim choked on every breath he managed to take in, unable to stop himself from crying out and whining.
His body was screaming at him because of what Jason had done to him. And now, he was letting himself fall apart to Jason’s hands in a different way. 
“If Grayson found us, he’d think I was fucking torturing you from all the pathetic noises you’re making,” Jason growled. He barely sounded human. He slid his other hand up Tim’s chest and grabbed Tim’s face, stroking his cheek. 
Tim groaned at the thought. He forced his eyes to open just so he could look at Jason. He really wished Jason would take the cowl off. Tim wanted to see Jason’s face more than anything. 
“Don’t bring him up,” Tim gasped, practically humping Jason’s hand for more delirious pleasure. “I don’t want to think about him now.”
At least he could see Jason’s smirk. “Why? Because you know he’d disapprove?”
“Because I want to think about you.” Tim tried to grab at Jason’s suit to pull it off. His hands were clumsy and shaky though, probably from blood loss. All he could do was uselessly press them against Jason’s chest and feel the warmth through layers of armor.
“Fuck,” Jason groaned. His whole body shuddered, affected by Tim’s words alone. Jason stopped jerking Tim off so he could unclip his belt. He kept his other hand against Tim’s face though. Stroking it. “Least I know why you broke me out of prison, now.”
Tim made an aghast noise. “This is not why I broke you out of prison.”
Jason leaned in close, resting his face against Tim’s. “You still broke me out. So all my blood is on your hands too, Tim.” He pressed a kiss against Tim’s temple. “Bruce wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do that. Hell of a Batman you make.” It was like he had crawled into Tim’s brain just to voice all the awful little thoughts that Tim tried to bury. 
“You-“ Tim tried to snap back, but he was distracted by the sound of Jason undoing a clasp, then a zipper. Tim looked down and watched, breath caught in his throat, as Jason pulled his cock out of his pants.
He was already hard. 
Jason’s hand smeared blood across his member. Tim swallowed at the sight. Jason had pushed his pants down just enough to expose a sliver of pale skin. He had a sharp v-line and toned muscles just from the bit Tim could see. An embarrassing noise came out of Tim’s throat.
“Pathetic,” Jason said, but he groaned on the word, working his hand over himself. It was filthy. Both of them, covered in blood, and Jason jerking off on top of Tim. 
Tim wrapped an arm around Jason. He wanted to sink his fingers into Jason’s hair, but he settled for wrapping them around the back of Jason’s cowl. Tim seriously considered trying to pull the cowl off himself, but he doubted Jason would take kindly to it. 
The noises Jason made as he pleasured himself were beautiful. Tim’s sounds were animalistic and, in Jason’s own words, pathetic. Barely human sounding. But Jason. Jason sounded practically divine, low and smooth as he moaned in Tim’s ear. 
“Please,” Tim gasped. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for.
“That desperate?” Jason downright purred. 
Tim didn’t hold himself back from nodding. He swallowed down his dignity. 
If he had any dignity left.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” Jason warned. Like he was giving Tim one last chance to back out.
Tim just laughed. “If you think I want you to be gentle, you really don’t know a thing about me.”
A guttural groan came out of Jason. He pulled back and lifted one of Tim’s legs, bending it as far back as he could. Tim wasn’t quite as flexible as Dick was, but Jason got pretty far before Tim’s muscles protested and he winced. 
“Of course you shave down there,” Jason commented. He slid a hand over Tim’s smooth skin around his cock and balls.
“I don’t like pubes getting caught in my suit,” Tim huffed, trying not to let his cheeks go red.
“Don’t worry,” Jason hummed, “I think it’s cute. Makes you look like a fucking virgin.”
“I’m not.” Like it mattered.
Jason paused, just staring at Tim. Was he disappointed? It was hard to tell. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, so it doesn’t matter either way.” Whether or not he was disappointed was masked with a rough, possessive anger that made Tim gasp.
Rough fingers ran over the shallow cuts on Tim’s stomach and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain. It wasn’t easy to ignore the dull throbbing when Jason was practically fingering the open wounds. Tim almost asked what the hell he was doing, before he realized Jason was smearing blood across his fingers, getting them slick and coated.
“Seriously? You’re going to use my own blood to fuck me?” Tim asked, like just the thought of it wasn’t making him spread his legs wider. Still, the idea of cleaning tacky blood out of himself did make Tim internally cringe.
“You got a better idea?” Jason shot back. 
“I think there’s lube in-“
“No.” Jason cut him off, pressing harder into the cuts just to make Tim wince. “We’re doing it my way, or I just leave you in a pool of your own blood with a hard-on.”
“Okay.” Tim caved instantly with a hushed whisper at the rough dominance. 
It was so easy, for Jason to take complete control of Tim. He was putty in Jason’s hands, content to be manipulated however Jason wanted, so long as Tim got his own pleasure out of it. If Jason wanted Tim to bleed, he would bleed. If he wanted Tim to be spread open and ready to be fucked, then Tim would give him that too.
Christ. He needed to be checked out mentally after this. 
Jason gave Tim a pleased hum, probably the closest thing to praise Tim was going to get out of him. He’d take it. Blood slick fingers pressed against Tim’s hole. Two fingers were forced in at once, hard and fast.
Tim screamed.
He didn’t expect Jason to be gentle, but it seemed like Jason was going out of his way to be rough. Scrapping his nails against Tim’s insides and brutally twisting his fingers around. He didn’t try to hit Tim’s prostate to bring any kind of pleasure. The brushes of his fingers over that spot were more painful than pleasurably, if anything. Fast and rough, giving Tim no chance to soak up the sparks of sensation from the bundle of nerves.
“Oh god,” Tim groaned, throwing his head back. His hips twitched violently, like they weren’t sure to press into Jason’s fingers for more, or to try to pull away from the horrible assault.
It’d been a while since Tim had been in this much pain. So battered from a fight that every movement of his body was weak and shaky. He grabbed onto Jason’s arm, desperate for an anchor. He couldn’t have pulled Jason off of him, even if he wanted to.
He didn’t, though. Tim wanted this to last as long as it possibly could. 
He never got to drown himself in the pain. Pain was something that had to be compartmentalized and ignored, for the sake of the mission. Getting back on his feet and ignoring the way his body screamed at him was one of the first things Bruce taught him. 
Now, Tim didn’t have to fight it. He could just give in. The half-hearted instincts from his body trying to fight back were ignored by Jason. Like Jason knew that Tim wanted this. 
Needed this. 
At some point, Jason must’ve worked a third finger inside of Tim. He didn’t notice. The burning stretch swirled with every other point of pain on his body. 
He did noticed when Jason finally decided to purposefully press against Tim’s prostate.
This pleasure was new. Foreign and overstimulating with how aggressively Jason pressed down on the spot, rubbing into it to pull all kinds of noises out of Tim he didn’t know he was capable of making. 
“Jason!” Tim cried out. “Fuck, too much, I can’t-“ Tim’s stomach was cramping from how hard his muscles clenched. He was falling, losing his grip on sensible reality. His head was full of cotton, foggy and unable to get a solid grip on coherent thought.
There were only three things that existed to Tim: pain, pleasure, and Jason. 
“You can’t what? Use your fucking words,” Jason mocked, vicious and uncaring. He rested Tim’s leg over his shoulder to free up his other hand. His fingers wrapped around Tim’s balls and tugged. Tim screamed and arched like a jack knife. He hadn’t noticed how close his orgasm was creeping up on him until Jason pulled it away with a brutal, carnal pain. When Tim lost control of his body, Jason found it and snatched it up, holding Tim’s pleasure in his palm. Tim wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t force his limbs to obey. 
“Hurts,” was all Tim could groan out. He might’ve been crying. It was hard to tell, with his face so wet with blood. 
“Good.”
“Jason,” Tim tried to beg. He was lost to subspace, something he barely realized until now. “I can’t take anymore.” He wanted more. More than want, god, he needed more, but his body was wired so tight Tim was convinced he was going to snap if Jason kept going. 
He wanted that too.
“That’s not for you to decide.” Jason’s rough voice was a light at the end of a tunnel Tim was struggling toward to ground himself. To focus on something besides the agony crashing over his body in brutal waves. “Do you really think you’re in the fucking state to know what you can take?”
Jason was right. Tim just whined, a noise that turned into a choked sob when Jason pulled his fingers out just enough to slam them into Tim’s sweet spot again, overwhelming him with more awful pleasure. 
“Give yourself over to me,” Jason demanded. He leaned in close again. Tim’s vision was blurred, but he could smell the gunpowder and leather. “Say it. Say I own you.”
Tim wanted to. He tried, opening his mouth and struggling to get the words out. He could only make more pathetic noises.
“Say it, or I’ll stab you and leave you to fucking bleed out.”
He probably wasn’t lying.
“You-“ Tim choked on the word, shaking so hard his muscles were spasming. “You own me.” Three little words, and they were the hardest words Tim had ever tried to say. Each one fought against him, getting stuck in his throat. 
But he said them. Because right now, they were the only religion Tim believed in. 
“Look at that,” Jason cooed. So patronizing. “You’re not completely brainless and worthless. Yet, anyway.” He pulled his fingers out of Tim. One second those fingers had been driving Tim mad because they were inside of him, and now they were driving him mad because they left him empty and wanting. 
His body needed more. More pain, more pleasure. Until he broke and Jason fucked the shattered pieces left of Tim. 
Jason got a hand underneath Tim, using the blood from the gash on Tim’s back to slick his fingers this time. That gash was far deeper. Something that probably needed stitches. It had started trying to clot but Jason agitated it enough for fresh blood to pour out. He was able to actually work his fingers under Tim’s bloody skin, making Tim shriek and try to pull away. 
There was nowhere for him to escape from the mind-numbing pain. When he pulled away, he just crashed into Jason’s chest, forehead bumping against the bat symbol of Jason’s suit. 
“So fucking easy to push your buttons,” Jason laughed. He moved his fingers around a bit more just to make his point and pull more wounded noises out of Tim. Then he finally pulled them free and let Tim fall back to the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of Tim.
He didn’t have a chance to try to get air into his lungs. Because Jason slicked himself up with a disturbing speed and lined up. The warning of blunt pressure against Tim’s hole lasted a fraction of a second and then Jason snapped his hips. Buried to the hilt.
Tim almost passed out.
He didn’t know if it was from the pain, the blood loss, or his body’s inability to get oxygen into his lungs. Everything exploded inside of Tim. He was full, so full so fast. Jason’s fingers hadn’t been nearly kind enough to properly stretch Tim for Jason’s size. It almost felt like being stabbed.
Over and over, as Jason fucked into Tim with no kindness. 
A hard slap across Tim’s face forced him off of the edge of unconsciousness. He gasped, eyes snapping open to find Jason’s face right above his, the glowing eyes of the mask taking over Tim’s field of vision. 
Jason was smiling. Blood on his teeth, dripping out of his mouth. Was it his blood or Tim’s?
Tim hoped it was both. 
“I don’t know which Bruce would find more pathetic,” Jason groaned as he fucked into Tim, pulling small screams out of Tim with each punch of his cock, “you putting on that suit, or you letting me fuck you in it.” He brought his lips to Tim’s ear. “Who’s ruining his legacy now?”
If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, Jason knew exactly how to rip open the wounds of Tim’s emotional pain alongside it. Tim cried out at the thought. 
What would Bruce think of him, like this? Pathetic and barely human underneath Jason Todd?
“And they call me the failed Robin,” Jason just kept talking, like he wasn’t destroying Tim from the inside out. “At least I know how to be something other than Robin. Are you really delusional enough to think you’re going to be the next Batman?” A long moan came out of him and he thrust even harder until Tim screamed loud enough to make himself dizzy. “Answer me.”
Tim just shook his head. “No.” His voice was broken. His throat was sore from screaming, but the word still came out. He’d never thought he really could be Batman. So what the hell was he thinking, putting this suit on?
“Good.” Jason slid his fingers under the bat symbol on Tim’s chest, one of the only parts of the suit in tact. He ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly in Tim’s ears. “It’s good you know your fucking place.” Jason changed his angle, finding Tim’s battered prostate again. Tim didn’t have the air in his lungs to scream anymore. All he could do was weakly mewl and whimper.
He could die like this. He honestly might. Tim had no idea how his body was holding on, in this state. Maybe it was the pain and pleasure alone keeping him alive. Just so he could soak up every touch from Jason.
Tim was never going to allow himself to do this again. So he had to enjoy it while it lasted.
This time, Tim felt his orgasm creeping up on him. His fingers dug into Jason’s arm and he pressed up into Jason’s warmth. The material of Jason’s suit was rough and unforgiving. It didn’t feel particularly good for Tim to grind his cock against, but he didn’t care. He needed any kind of friction, whether it brought him pleasure or road rash. 
“I won’t stop if you come,” Jason warned, still hammering into Tim at a pace that should’ve been impossible for a normal human to manage. “This isn’t to make you feel good. It’s to put you in your fucking place.”
Tim could only whine, managing a nod of understanding. This was his place. He knew that. He never wanted to leave it. 
The threat of being fucked into overstimulation hung over Tim’s head, but he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the high of his orgasm. He almost wanted to feel the overstimulation. Like his orgasm was just something to get over with so Tim could completely give himself over to Jason. To be used just for Jason’s pleasure, even if it brought him nothing but more pain. 
That thought made Tim’s balls tighten. The only warning he could give Jason was a high pitched keen that barely sounded like Tim’s own voice. His eyes rolled back.
The pleasure of his orgasm didn’t overtake the screaming pain in the rest of his body. It just mixed with the pain, swirling into one intense feeling Tim didn’t have a name for. He screamed until his throat gave out. His back arched and he clenched around Jason, who kept driving into him. Jason growled in Tim’s ear. He was holding Tim’s hip so tight there would be bruises that would end up indistinguishable from the rest of Tim’s injuries.
All injuries that Jason gave Tim. Tim’s body was a canvass, and Jason’s favorite color to paint with was the red that poured out of Tim. 
It was the best orgasm Tim had ever felt. No feeling was ever going to match this intensity. 
Tim came down from his high with an awful wheeze, shuddering. He clung to Jason, like a guard dog laying at the feet of his master. 
“Fuck,” Jason moaned. A shudder ran down his spine and his pace faltered, just for a moment. “You’re really something else, Drake.” From Jason, that was practically a compliment for Tim to soak up and preen under. 
Tim’s body tipped over the edge of overstimulation. His survival instincts kicked in, trying to fight Jason. There was no strength behind his kicks and hits. They just made Jason laugh as Tim made a fool of himself.
“I own you,” Jason reminded Tim. He caught Tim’s wrist and pinned it against the cold concrete, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation to Tim’s fingers. “I can do whatever I want to your useless body. Don’t try to fight it now.” He leaned down and found an exposed part of Tim’s neck to sink his teeth into. It wasn’t a hickey, but a proper bite, breaking Tim’s skin. 
Tim cried out, but still tilted his head to the side to give Jason better access to his neck. Even when his body wanted to fight, Tim managed to submit. Like the submission was natural to him. 
The pain took over. Tim just floated in it, forcing himself to go limp. Submit. No more fighting. He gave in to Jason and stopping thinking. All Tim needed to do was feel. Feel every point of agony scattered across his body. Feel Jason fucking him. Using him, like Tim was nothing more than a toy. The sparks from Jason slamming into his sweet spot couldn’t be called pleasure anymore, with Tim’s cock spent and limp. It was more pain. 
Better that way. Tim liked the pain more. Delicious and mind-numbing. 
Jason was swearing against Tim’s skin. He mumbled something Tim didn’t catch. Three syllables. Short and rushed out. Tim was almost convinced the second word was love. Maybe he was making it up in his head though, finally lost in utter delirium.
Tim didn’t care.
More insults fell from Jason’s lips. Calling Tim nothing, worthless, pathetic. A cheap pretender who deserved this. Tim agreed with all of it, feverishly nodding. The words were practically sweet nothings in Tim’s ears. 
Jason yelled Tim’s name when he came. His hips stuttered to a stop, buried deep inside of Tim. He knew Jason was coming inside of him, but his body was too battered to feel Jason’s cum filling his insides. Shame that was. Tim wanted to know how it felt, to be claimed by Jason in this carnal way.
They were both so perfectly still, for two people who had been shaking and clawing at each other just moments ago. The only noise was heavy breathing that echoed through the night.
Tim swallowed. He tried to find himself through the pain. He worked through the body checklist that Bruce gave him. Vision. Smell. Taste. Feel. Sound. All the sensations clashed against each other, out of focus and pounding against Tim’s skull.
It was so hard to think.
Tim groaned. Focus. 
Like cold water thrown on his face, he clawed his way out of subspace. Tim got a good look at Jason’s face.
“Are you crying?” Tim voiced the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 
With the mask, it was hard to tell. Jason’s breathing was shuddered, hitching on every inhale. Tim wouldn’t call it sobbing, but it was close enough for Tim to study Jason’s face. The wetness coming out from under Jason’s mask wasn’t red. It streaked through the blood. 
Tear tracks. 
Jason’s completely rational response was to punch Tim in the face.
Tim swore and curled in on himself, cupping his nose. If it wasn’t broken before, it was now. Jason pulled out of Tim without any care and stood up, leaving him curled up on the ground, trying to set the broken bone and manage the bleeding.
Tim tried to sit up. His arms and legs gave out under him and he slammed back to the ground with a pained noise. He looked up at Jason, squinting. Watching as Jason tucked himself back into his pants, then snatched his gloves off the ground to put them back on.
Despite clearly losing the fight, Tim had done a number on Jason. Jason’s face was bloody and his suit was ripped and torn in some places. He looked like he had been mauled by a wild animal.
If that was how Jason looked, Tim couldn’t imagine what the sight of his own body was.
His second attempt to sit up worked. Now, he compartmentalized. Forced the pain deep into the corners of his mind and locked it up. 
Tim had to be functional now. He couldn’t let the regret and shame get to him.
“I-“ Jason started to say something. It was only one word, but it sounded uncharacteristically soft, making Tim straighten his back and hold his breath. But Jason cleared his throat and folded his arms, stamping down whatever kindness had almost come out. “I’ll throw you a bone. If any of the Bats find you like this you can just tell them I raped you,” he said it like some kind of mean joke.
Tim didn’t say anything. That wasn’t true. They both knew it.
“Preserve your precious dignity you care so much about, huh?” Jason continued. He sounded unsure of himself and he turned away from Tim. 
“Jason-“ Tim reached out for him. “We can still-“ he struggled for the words. “It doesn’t have to end like this. You can still change. I’ll-“
“Don’t,” Jason snapped. He kicked away Tim’s hand. “We both know it’s too late for that.” He started to walk away. “Never wear that suit again, Drake. I’d hate to see you die to someone that isn’t me.” He almost sounded… protective? Tim wouldn’t call it fondness, but maybe something close to that. Tim refused to allow himself to read into it. Whoever Jason Todd had become, he was someone that Tim couldn’t save. He was someone who didn’t want to be saved, no matter how Tim felt about him. Tim had to accept that, even with Jason’s cum deep inside him. Some truths were immutable. 
Then, Jason was gone. Vanishing into the shadows and leaving Tim there.
Tim tilted his head back. He allowed himself thirty seconds. He counted them. Thirty seconds to sit in his own filth and feel the pain for just a little longer, before he had to move and figure out how he was going to get home in one piece without anyone finding out what happened here.
Just ten more seconds.
Five. 
Three.
One.
With grit teeth and a deep breath, Tim stood up.
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thetantiger · 5 months ago
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Wanna share with the class about your thoughts on Stolas and Blitz :D?
Oh my god yes I absolutely do thank you for asking.
So I'm going to start off by saying that this post is in favor of Stolas. I firmly believe that both of them are in the wrong, but Blitz is more in the wrong than Stolas and I am about to explain to you in detail why.
So let's start off by listing Stolas's wrongdoings because I feel like it'd be a flawed argument to just completely fucking gloss over them. Stolas has:
a. Repeatedly stepped over the line of Blitz's sexual boundaries even after Blitz asked him to stop. This happens in Murder Family over the phone while Blitz is being chased by Martha. I think it's worth pointing out that the show does not take this seriously until it's convenient for Blitz's character (Helluva has a bad pattern of male r*pe jokes [see: Moxxie]) but since it's an actual part of the plot now I'm acknowledging it as important and serious.
b. Talked down to Blitz patronizingly and embarrassed him and used his status, either intentionally or not, to get his way. This happens in Loo Loo Land (the entire episode), The Harvest Moon Festival (on stage) and, again, in Murder Family over the phone, talking about the deal of exchanging the grimoire for sex.
Now let's discuss the things that Stolas has done to help remedy these things. Do these things fix what he did? No. But it sure does help:
a. Communicated clearly with Blitz that he is no longer required to have sex with him to maintain his business (Full Moon)
b. Given Blitz a reliable way to maintain his business using the Asmodean crystal without any expectation of repayment (Full Moon)
c. Repeatedly acknowledged that he unintentionally used his place of privilege to put Blitz in this situation (Full Moon ["This.. transactional thing we have, it's- it's not right anymore, it hasn't been-.. It never was."] and specifically "When I See Him Tonight" ["And if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?"] and Apology Tour "All 2 U" ["What if it's all on me, for missing every sign and every glance and every turn?"])
d. Repeatedly reassured Blitz that he in fact does not look down on him as a person (Full Moon "I think so highly of you, Blitz.." and Apology Tour "I don't look down on you, Blitz, when have I ever-?!")
Now before I get into the arguments between them in Full Moon and Apology Tour I want to go ahead now and explore how Blitz enabled this relationship.
Blitz repeatedly re-expressed sexual interest in Stolas. This does not make Stolas sexually harassing him okay in any regard, this is not related to that--we'll get there. But he does:
a. respond to Stolas's assumption that Blitz was there for sex in The Circus by.. having sex with him in order to obtain property (THAT ISN'T HIS AND THAT HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY HAVE A RIGHT TO PRIOR TO THIS AGREEMENT)
b. make sexual comments and advances towards Stolas throughout the show (strings him along by bringing him to Ozzie's only to stalk M&M, offers to have sex with him as reward for saving him and the rest of IMP in Truth Seekers, etc)
Now, let's talk about their arguments.
Stolas clearly and concisely communicates his purpose, his intent, and his feelings for Blitz. Blitz first assumes this is a sex roleplay thing (which, for that being his initial reaction I'm actually not going to fault him) and then, when Stolas peacefully tries to disengage and leave the situation (because it's clear that Blitz at this point is not interested) Blitz pursues him through the house against his will, screams at him, verbally berates him and accuses him of not giving him a "FUCKING minute to think" (despite, again, pursuing him through the house and also not previously asking for it). He calls him names and offers to PHYSICALLY FIGHT HIM.
I don't understand how it can get clearer than this.
THEN, in the next episode, he:
a. appears at Stolas's house without permission and after being physically dismissed by him
b. remains at his property after Stolas tells him he "doesn't want to talk right now"
c. SEXUALLY HARASSES HIM by INSISTING he just "wants to be shown a good time" or "needs to realize how good an angry fuck would be right now" after being REPEATEDLY TOLD TO LEAVE and that Stolas DOES NOT WANT TO HAVE SEX RIGHT NOW ("As SHOCKING as it may seem, Blitz, I'm not in the mood to 'do sex' with you right now--in fact, I'm not even in the mood to 'do words' with you right now!" "Seeing you right now is hard!" "Get out! Right now!" "I'm uncomfortable with how you're speaking to me now!" "Stop it!")(so, on the sexual harassment front after this scene in Apology Tour, Stolas and Blitz are even).
d. SCREAMS AT HIM WHEN STOLAS DENIES HIM SEX (and also uses "gay" as a derogatory term in the process we love it here) TO THE POINT STOLAS HAS TO RETREAT INTO HIS HOUSE INSTEAD OF BLITZ, I DON'T KNOW, LEAVING THE PROPERTY LIKE HE ASKED HIM TO
At this point in the series, you cannot be serious to say that Stolas is more in the wrong than Blitz is. I see so much "bOtH sIdEs" bullshit or that Stolas is the complete villain here but right now for me it's 75% Blitz and 25% Stolas. I am a fucking Stolas apologist at this point with the braindead takes I've seen on here. Stolas says "I don't want you here, go home please!" at the party and then Blitz STILL DOES NOT ACKNOWLEDGE WHAT STOLAS ACTUALLY WANTS OR NEEDS IN THAT MOMENT AND REFUSES HIS REQUEST
"Stolas is just being painted as more sympathetic by the narrative because he's Vivziepop's favorite character" Okay are you drawing this conclusion from what's actually in the source material or are we just making shit up now.
"Blitz is just reacting this way because of his trauma/past/insert the name of any mental illness here" Okay neat. That's a reason. But not an excuse. It does NOT make his behavior "more right." This exact same argument can be made for Stolas and his sheltered upbringing as well as his previous abusive relationship and it just feel so fucking irrelevant to the conversation. We're talking about fault here. Not reasoning.
"But- but- but- but how else is Blitz supposed to react?! His dad was a piece of shit and everyone has always been horrible to him his entire li--" I am going to fucking hit you with my car.
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