#definitely trans tho

[avo-kat]

i was checking my drafts (for the irrational fear that there will be a bug that suddenly releases all your posts in draft; this has no basis on reality, so dont worry), and found this post from march 1st 2023.

its me working out that im definitely not trans:

dont mind me, im just sitting here and thinking out loud

me: oh im just a regular woman. not straight. but otherwise normal. thats all. :) [pre 2020]

me: hm actually. you know what? hmhm. something is up

me: no its fine. its time. i came out as lesbian to my friends! this is great. i love this. time to buy... lgbt merch. [around 2020]

me: what kind tho... hm.... somehow.... u know? normal rainbow stuff is fine, right?

me: hmmmm im not feeling so good actually??? [around 2021]

me: is that... u know what.... i think i may be.... non-binary? i thought this was only smth for kids but looking into it, huh, i guess so!

me: now i can wear more boy clothes. and walk a bit more masc. thats kinda fun. mens tank top. mens shorts. baseball cap. i feel awesome. hairy legs. hairy armpits. hell yeah!

me: but im just nb im not trans thats not being trans

me: i dont wanna intrude or take away or smth im just nb

me: im fine being the way i am no need to do hrt or anything really

me: and honestly, i dont wanna lose my identity as a queer woman!!! i love being a queer woman! well ok not a woman anymore but im still like, sapphic! that kinda thing!!! im deathly afraid of losing this part of my identity!

me: im super fine w my body and im fine staying this way and also being my agab at my job

me: besides im so cute now and id deffo look ugly as a guy

me: i dont even like guys that much so like come on

me: that one guy is giving me such gender envy. thats just 1 exception tho [around 2022]

me: i prefer he/they but im fine with all pronouns :)

me: i like it when ppl use male words for me. just makes me feel good. nothing else :)

me: (i have no dysphoria cuz im nb im not trans)

me: its cool im fine

me: hmmmmmmmmm

me: mhmhm eeeh

me: im not feeling so great again thats so weird....??? [late 2022/early 2023]

me: mhmhmhmhmh

me: oh look im growing facial hair

me: guess ill shave. thats annoying. kinda cool but annoying

me: oh wow i gotta shave more often huh thats so annoying

me: hm hair is growing more... actually... feels nice touching my hairy face kinda

me: oh well i gotta shave for work, so

me: ach. why does that feel unpleasant?

me: oh well. heh, if i were a man (im not tho), some things would be kinda fun!

me: if i were a guy. that would be fun. like. purely hypothetical, yknow?

me: like if i suddenly got the superpower to change my appearance. that would be sooo cool. just cuz.

me: wouldnt that be fun. it would. it would be so fun.

me: not trans tho

me: def not trans. i feel shaky and queasy just thinking of it. im not

me: just nb. im fine. im fine staying like this. like. im. im fine.

me: like sure im not like super comf

me: thats on me deciding not to be more gnc in public. yeah. it would be such a hassle

me: yeah. what if tho lol. can u imagine. god, telling my boss? no way man that wouldnt fly

me: and id be so ugly. im cute right now. and im not strong. or build. and im too fat. if i were to be a man id wanna be, like, hot, yknow? strong and sharp jawline. if i were to be guy. im not. i wouldnt. im not trans lol

me: lemme write this fanfic real quick. just smth self-indulgent. what if i woke up in the body of the main character of this shounen anime lol. id be a boy lol. like. id be a man. mans body lol. that be fun lol. and what if i managed to fall in love with that male character. wed be so gay together. haha. two guys. such a funny idea

me: .....................

me: like what if i got top surgery.

me: like, sure. a year ago i was scared of losing my boobs. like if i had breast cancer and had to remove them. id look so off. my body would look wrong. boobs are an important visual element.

me: but what if i got top surgery. like. i hate bras. i dont like them being touched much either honestly so i wouldnt really lose anything? it would be more comfy for me day to day. and while sleeping. so, honestly, only upsides?

me: ...what would i need, theoretically. hm. half a year of therapy? oh. yeah. no. im not trans. so. yeah.

me: ....................

me: like, what name would i even pick. idk. well doesnt matter. im not trans.

[new addition, july 2023] me: im trans :D

[onionninjasstuff]

[asphalt-eater]

i like to think goth is a gender in of itself

[hcnnibal]

Hi Vati! Nosy gender question, if I may -- when did you figure out your gender was Not Cis and how much of the discovery process has your husband been with you for? (I ask bc I mostly knew before meeting my bf, he's been with me through the tail-end of the Gender Discovery Process™, at least for now -- I wonder how it is for couples who've been together longer than us?)

i had already been socially transitioned for a couple of years before we started talking, but didnt really have any interest in medically transitioning until we had already gotten married.

it’s definitely been cool to be there for each other’s milestones tho, i gave him his first shot. he. watched me give myself my first shot ahahaha. we had our top surgeries done by the same guy. twinninggggg

[rainbowpufflez]

Giovanni homophobia arc™️

[izel-scribbles]

just finished malevolent relisten. needless to say the obsession has been rekindled tenfold its previous magnitude

[bulldog-butch]

i sometimes so desperately wish my gender and sexuality were more simple. i wish we weren’t trapped in a world where the binary even within transness weren’t so rigid. i wish i could just say i was trans man or that i never had had the desire to transition and could have just stayed happily as a cis butch lesbian

[kansasjustgotgayer]

I need help to pay for my top surgery 🏳️‍⚧️✂️

I am trying to get my top surgery done as soon as possible in order to get ahead of any anti-trans legislation that may keep me from doing so in the coming years.

Unfortunately this means that since my insurance wont cover it, I have to raise and save that money myself. If you can donate any amount or share this to someone who can, it would help me TREMENDOUSLY.

https://gofund.me/e67a04cf

[marsbotz]

no matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts, you don't stop dancing, and you don't stop smiling, and you give those people what they want.

[irlfelixcatton]

TALK ABOUT THE TRANSMASCULINE ALLEGORY!!! i want to hear your thoughts

ok. the long awaited oliver quick transmasculine allegory post.

to be so real it is mainly me doing 2 (two things)

-projecting

-using insanely obvious prompts from the text to pull shit out of my ass

i do think that oliver quick's character COULD. MAYBE. be either headcanon'd as trans (BOOORRRINNGG) or a lot of his actions in act one can be closely tied to very common trans experiences.

my biggest thing on 'common' trans experiences as it relates to saltburn, is meeting a cis man and latching onto him with every fiber of your being, because you can't be friends with him, you need to *be* him. the first thing that really prompted me to look at saltburn from this lense was when farleigh goes "[you're almost passing as] a real human boy!", though it's clearly about oliver wearing a rental suit, it's a phrase that i've heard a million times over and over again, and i think that oliver, within this transmaculine concept of his character, dances CONSTANTLY on this imaginary line of "real boy" to "weirdo freak" that i think a lot of trans people can relate to. (i will touch on 'real boy' again later)

theres also an aspect of this incessant watching and dissecting cis men, what they wear, how they talk, how they fuck. and with all of this watching, there's this part of melding your identity into what you're watching, which we see starkly with oliver. at the beginning, when he's this oxford kid, a freak if you will, but he's more or less himself, version A. once he meets felix, he ditches the glasses, the button up shirts, the uptight manner, and turns into this entirely different version of "himself", version B. version B is the version he's taught himself that society will like much more than version A, so it consumes him entirely. version A wasn't someone that girls would fuck, felix would love, and quite frankly be 'enjoyed' by the rest of the world. version A is pre-transition, and version B is post. (all this to say, in relation to irl transition, neither version A or version B are right, good, or bad, they're whatever you want them to be. beauty is in the eye of the beholder)

THIS PART IS JUST WORD VOMIT AND DOESN'T NECESSARILY PERTAIN TO MY POINT OF TRANSMASCULINE ALLEGORY. SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK.

for me, another piece i think about a lot is the “you’re just so real” (venetia) but that’s a bit more of a stretch. the reason i think this relates to the main point, is so many trans people have to work and rework their personality so that their 'transness' is socially palatable, real. the catton's have no general perception of a real person, they surround themselves with fake, upper class socialites who lie and cheat. but even if they met a real person, they wouldn't know it. and they don't lol. so when oliver comes around, who isn't this upper class socialite, the initial thought is that he's this "real" and "grounded" person. however, the only reason that the catton's (general society in this case) find oliver (trans people) so "real" and more or less worth accepting into their family is because he has worked and reworked his identity to be so similar and likeable to felix's.

there's also the conversation on cattonquick being a really good representation of what a mlm cis/trans relationship can feel like so much of the time. but i'll only really expand on this if any1 is interested lol. anyways pls dm me or comment on this i really want to talk more about it more.

[kandicon]

Is nobody talking abt Nova Storm being a potential trans woman?? Like she not only takes Thundercracker's place but also has his sonic booms?? The show has gone over nonbinary people and gender conversations already, this is not out of the relm of possibility at all.

If nobody's gonna talk about it that just means I'm gonna talk EXTRA about it. Headcanon time.

Okay, so obviously Starscream was the one who did the surgery. He'd be all to happy to have unique colors w the removal of Thundercracker's blue and be the only boy in the group. The chance to stand out even more amongst his trine AND a free opportunity to stick his hands in some internals and do as he pleases?? HELL yes.

He was only a little upset that Nova Storm wanted to keep her sonic booms and he couldn't take that mechanism to stick into his own internals. Just a little.

Skywarp started doing makeup because Nova Storm took interest in it. Which of course meant Starscream also got into it too because he would not let his trine walk around with messy lipstick! Don't they know they're an extension of himself?! Their image is his image and they will look the best. Both Skywarp and Nova Storm have shaky hands from their outlier abilities. Good thing no-smudge paint can last without wear for months, no war or prison could ever get in the way of a perfect face of makeup.

Nova Storm realized she was a femme during the war, which is the main reason she got Starscream to do her transition and not a less biased, less unethical actual doctor. It had downfalls, but it was also one of the trine's closest times during the war. The three of them, all sitting around a room meticulously planning "Thundercracker's" death for months, because Nova Storm's a writer and no way she's gonna give up the chance to act out one her stories in real life. Skywarp is so proud of the fake tears she made at the news to this day (Starscream learned mascara just so Skywarp could wear some that day to get it all runny). Y'all will think that the Decepticons' most guarded secret has something to do with the war, or a Shockwave experiment, but no. The Decepticons' closest kept secret is Nova Storm's transition.

Everyone can kinda agree that it was probably the best for Nova's transition to be secret, "Thundercracker" was a very public figure as one of Starscream's trine. It would have been an easily available weakness for other Decepticons or Autobots to attack to hurt Starscream or Nova Storm. But the main reason was for the tragic death story potential and siblings scheming together.

Skywarp and Nova Storm definitely had their whole finishing each other's sentences before her transition, but they totally played it up even more afterwards.

Nova Storm got so happy and euphoric when people started to refer to her and Skywarp as sisters (usually with a negative "s" word before it. Ex. Scary, sinister, spooky, etc.). She still feels euphoric over it, but it's much more normal for her now and then she realizes she feels less about it because is so much more normal and common now and that makes her even happier. It's just a thing for her now!! It's a correct thing and it's natural and that's exactly how it's supposed to be.

[biracy]

I said I wasn't going to discourse abt this and I know it's an old topic but oops here I am lol. I cannot help but notice that the Groundbreaking Revolutionary 5D Gender Chess! or whatever thing is only ever applied to gnc cis people, most often gnc cis (white, skinny) men who "pass" as women, never to gnc trans people. I am a trans guything who "looks like a girl." I have long hair and breasts and I don't dress Particularly "feminine" most of the time, but I do wear a lot of "women's clothes" (I wear jeans that fit, I'm basically a Barbie doll) and I'm not on hormones. Some of this is my choice, some of it is not, but that's besides the point lol. Never in my life have I seen me or anyone remotely like me praised for Doing Epic Groundbreaking Incomprehensible Gender That Confuses The Conservatives or whatever, we're called stupid little girls or something. I have never in my life seen a butch/otherwise "masculine" trans woman be praised for Doing Epic Groundbreaking Incomprehensible Gender That Confuses The Conservatives. With someone like f1nnster, there is an assumed "discrepancy" or "contradiction" between his gender presentation and his (assumed) genitals, assigned sex, etc., that even a lot of self-avowed Trans Allies do not apply to trans people of similar presentation. To a looooot of people, a very feminine trans man is not "a man who looks like a girl", he's just a girl, and a very masculine trans woman is not "a girl who looks like a man", she's just a man. People really like throwing around the term "gender essentialist" in this discourse, but it's usually not lobbed at the correct people in my opinion lol

[in-tua-deep]

Book recommendation for yall! Found this in the library and checked it out bc I was a curious. It’s a really interesting look at the lives of women in the UK and the lesbian community, and has lots of chunks of stories from the various folks who were interviewed

The stories are very honest and very interesting! It has a lot of different answers to questions such as “how do people conceptualize themselves when they don’t have the language to do so” and is super insightful, I think a lot of it is applicable to non-UK folk as well

If your local library has it, definitely give it a read!

[doomdoomofdoom]

If you've ever watched a movie with good trans re/theming and you caught yourself thinking "wow this must be so empowering for trans people, i wish i was trans"....

...I've got some news for you.

[h0dge-p0dge]

thinking of making a transfem or transmasc simpsons oc cuz the show doesn't have a confirmed trans character or trans episode yet. I think the reason is because the writers are scared they'll mess it up and accidentally make an offensive episode, BUT PLEASE GUYS JUST HIRE MORE TRANS WRITERS AND MAKE A TRANS CHARACTER PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU🙏🙏

I'm also a firm believer in transmasc sideshow mel and moe. also thank u Tumblr for introducing me to transfem Milhouse, that's my headcanon now too I love her she is my daughter🗣️🗣️ (yapathon in the tags)

[whumble-beeee]

The Man in the Sweater Vest

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 7

Content: attempted noncon, threatened mouth whump, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, scissors, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, noncon touch, past captivity references, graphic threats, blood, crapton of whump. As a treat :)

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[Inevitably, there will be disagreements on how you should treat your captured hero. One villain might want to just hold the hero hostage long enough to finish their dastardly plans. Another will want to break the hero’s will entirely! Or anything else in between! 

But when working together with other villains, bounty hunters, henchmen, etc, it is crucial that everyone is on the same page about how your captured hero is to be treated, lest your hero end up with a few less limbs than you meant them too, or your months of breaking down the hero's fragile mind is undone by a single nice gesture.

Always communicate effectively, your hero will thank you for it (or curse the day you were born)!]

* * * * * * * *

Sweater-vest stumbled back, reeling from the punch and clutching his face before pulling his hands down and gawking at the blood staining his hands.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!” Stan screamed. 

An intense elation washed through his chest despite the surprisingly sharp exploding pain that crackled up the very bones of his arm when he punched the man, and the now freshly ripped open scabs and bruises from where he’d forgotten to account for the handcuffs and yanked on them violently, streaming new ruby red over dried light brown that already carved down his arms; 

Because he'd got him. He'd got him! Punched him, made him back off! Stan did that! He'd finally managed to actually do something about the atrocities being committed against him and it was so, so sweet. 

Relatively short-lived, though. 

Vaughn, the sweater vest man, started to giggle to himself as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose onto his sleeve. Elation gave way to tentative confusion. Then a sinister seed started to take root in Stan's gut, the roots already reaching out and tightening around his body.

“You-...” Vaughn giggled some more. “You– you think–?...”

He started fully laughing, speech overtaken by an apparent hilarity that Stan must’ve just been too shocked by the sudden mood change to understand. He was cackling. Then practically shrieking, crazy, loud, heaving laughs.

He must be crazy. 

Insane. 

Well and truly insane, the way he was shriek laughing into his shining red-stained hands.

His gaze snapped up to Stan, and Stan could practically hear the horror movie crackling effect with how fast it snapped up, crazy maniacal shudders still overtaking his body, piercing gaze turned wide, animalistic.

“You think you can HURT ME?! HURT ME?! AHAHAHAHA!!”

Suddenly Stan slammed into the wall, cuffed wrists pinned above his head, chest to chest with the crazy man and staring up into his crazy bloodshot eyes.

“You can't hurt me,” he growled into Stan’s ear through gritted teeth. ”I don't feel pain. I carved that weakness out a long time ago, my brain doesn’t register it anymore! And I did it so I could deal with horrible little brats like you–” he slammed Stan's wrists into the wall, “--however I see fit! So I could do whatever I wanted to them. So that even if they fight back, they always, always, always lose.”

He pulled back and leaned into Stan's face, staring the captive directly in his glaringly defiant, wide and shining eyes. Hot shaking breaths misted surprisingly minty breath onto Stan’s cheeks, nearly overpowered by the metallic tang of blood that still poured down his face.

“Always submit. Just like you're going to.”

Stan pulled down hard against Vaughn's grasp, struggling and wiggling and tugging and screaming and kicking and doing every single little thing he could to, if not escape, at least make this as difficult as possible.

“Get away from me!" He cried. "GET AWAY FROM ME, get OFF of me, I’m not gonna let you do this you sadist, you can’t do this to me!! LET GO–!”

A punch to the gut. Stan tried to double over and wheezed as much as he could with his arms pinned up, which delivered him right into another punch to the face.

 Then something cool and sharp stabbed into the soft underside of his chin, straining his neck with how far his head pushed back into the wall.

“This is why I like to keep my victims gagged,” Vaughn gritted. “That bounty hunter of yours never does it, no matter how I tell him to. Always has to do stuff his own way, never listens. All he does is talk talk talk, always has a retort for everything. So defiant, and so is every single subject he brings in.”

A dull aching throb emanated from where Stan’s head pressed into the wall. Black spots dotted his vision. 

“You–... y-you can't–”

The scissors pulled back and dove toward Stan's mouth, eliciting a loud cut-off scream of revolt as he cowered and squeezed his eyes shut from some vain, animalistic instinct to protect himself. 

Then he pried open his eyes again, confused when no cutting metallic pain ripped through the fragile flesh of his face.

The handle of the scissors were fuzzy, too close for his eyes to focus.

They weren’t that far into his mouth.

Just enough that if Stan tried to close it, his teeth would clip on the tip of the metal blades instead. 

The scissors lifted slowly, tapping on his top teeth, tilting his head up until he stared into Vaughn’s metallic blue eyes once more.

“I could always prep your throat with these if you like,” he drawled softly, letting go of Stan’s cuff chain and instead lightly grasping his thumb and forefinger under Stan’s chin, forcing his mouth open further. A small sob crackled out from Stan’s throat. 

“It would be so easy… I could just–” 

The scissors lurched further into Stan’s mouth, and Stan let out another involuntary squeak and an open-mouthed, unintelligible pleading of “no, no, no, no…” as tears started to sting at his eyes.

But he let him do it. 

He even still held his arms up, because surely if he tried to fight back now, with the scissors in his mouth quite literally pinning him to the wall… He didn’t even want to think of the consequences.

“Careful, dropje. Wouldn’t want to cut yourself. Be quiet, be still, be good for me, right? You can be good for me? You can finally shut the hell up. No more fighting.”

He let go of Stan's chin and let his hands wander lower, caressing Stan’s sides, the curve of his waist, making his entire body tense and shudder. His breathing turning loud and shallow as he cringed away. 

Vaughn just giggled.

“See? Isn’t this better? You’re not getting hurt, you’re doing what I say…” His fingers slipped under the waistband of Stan’s pants again. Slower this time. More deliberate. 

It took all of Stan's willpower to not start hyperventilating at what he knew was about to happen. He knew. It was always this, wasn’t it?

Vaughn’s voice lowered as he leaned closer, pressing his body into Stan’s. He could feel the fibers of the stupid damn sweater vest against his stomach, deceptively soft, almost pleasant. The hard blade of the scissors tapped on the tip of his nose. “Because you physically have no other–”

BANG!!

Stan screamed. 

Vaughn screamed. 

The ghost of the gunshot echoed off the cinderblock walls. 

Vaughn also nearly fell backward, pushing off of Stan just in time for Stan to fall to the floor in a duck-and-cover position and pray to whatever gods would listen that his last day on earth wouldn't have been spent dealing with two of the worst people he'd ever had the displeasure of being kidnapped by.

Wait, scratch that, his knee reminded him. He'd had worse.

His heart threatened to jump out of his chest completely, but he finally realized that in fact, he was still alive. So he opened his eyes to what he never thought to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world;

Deeby. 

Gun pointed to the sky and streaming a light grey smoke into a small puff of explosion that hadn't had time yet to dissipate. 

“What in the ever-loving SHIT are you doing?!” he shouted.

He was completely maskless, face now on full display, fiery eyes matching his equally fiery sneer. The sudden absence of the mask almost scared Stan more than the gunshot, the sight making his heart beat in his throat.

Then, for just a split second, Deeby's enraged eyes met Stan's stare. His eyes scanned down his body, looking him up and down, his face changing ever so slightly when his gaze caught in Stan’s chest. A slight crinkle of the eyebrows, a small tilt of the head. Then his eyes widened in some sort of realization, and Stan felt his heart turn to ice. 

Recognition.

No. 

He couldn't have realized who he was. 

Just because of the binder?!

Stan choked on his own throat as the collar suddenly constricted once more and he was dragged violently forward to his knees.

“Your fucking dog punched me in the face!” Vaughn shouted, jangling Stan around enough that he had to grab the collar just to gain back his breath.

“Just because–!” 

Vaughn jolted Stan's collar back hard and cut him off with a violent gag.

“I was disciplining him.” Vaughn narrowed his eyes at the mercenary. “Like we're supposed to.” 

Deeby’s jaw set. And still, he managed to find a slight smug smile within his fury. “That why your face is gushing blood, then? Disciplined him too hard?”

Stan didn't even realize when they started, but tears were practically streaming down his cheeks now, chest heaving in panic. “Deeby, Deeby, he was gonna–”

“Shut up!”

A kick this time, straight to the back of his spine, and Stan's throat strained hard into the collar before breaking free of Vaughn's grasp and nearly face-planting into cold concrete. He scrambled to get up, but the same foot planted on his back and slammed his chest right back to the floor, grinding the heel of its shoe into the captive’s spine. Stan clutched at the ground, screams barely bit back by force of sheer willpower.

“Christ, man! Stop it, get off!” Deeby yelled with uncharacteristic urgency.

The force pinning him down suddenly released, followed by the scattered footfalls of someone catching themself from nearly falling over. 

Stan just lay there limp. Heaving and shivering. He couldn't move. His limbs felt like heavyweights, the world tilted on it’s axis, and he was sure that if he lifted his head up, he would lose every last morsel of that protein bar he'd shoved down earlier.

But at least now no one was methodically turning him into a fine red mist anymore. 

Deeby stood between the two of them like an impenetrable stone wall, hand resting on the unlatched holster of his gun and pointedly ignoring Vaughn’s stuttering disbelief as he patted at the pockets of his jacket, pulling various probably very sharp things out and shoving them into his pants pockets.

Protecting him.

“You– You just–...” Vaughn finally composed himself. “You pushed me off! You're saving him? He needs to be taught a lesson!”

Stan tried to push up despite the dizziness. “Only–... D-Deeby, he was trying–”

“Shut up, Stan, I know, let me handle it! Here.” Deeby slid his jacket off and dropped it practically on top of his captive’s head, never once letting his gaze slip from Vaughn. Stan shakily pulled the brown leather of the jacket over his shoulders before he had time to think better of it, doing his best to just enjoy the show and not think about the implications of what was currently happening.

 “Because he wouldn't let you put your dick in him without a fight, right?” The bounty hunter said sarcastically. “Or– or– or because he wasn’t gonna let you mouth-gore him without complaint? Let you ‘teach him a lesson?’ Yeah, I am stopping you. Piece of shit.” The bounty hunter grabbed the scissors off the floor where they landed when Vaughn dropped them after the gunshot. Then he used them to point sharply at the door. 

“Get out.”

Vaughn scoffed and melodramatically rolled his eyes.

“You got the message from Lana then? Is that why you're acting like such a belligerent wittle babeee?” Vaughn posited in his most obnoxious baby voice.

Deeby bristled. Stan could've sworn for a moment he could see the man shaking. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “I talked to Lana. Your useless job is done. You can go back to being an even more useless sidepiece now.”

Vaughn’s shoulders tensed, and he laughed.

“Good! And I’ll make sure to tell Lana all about you taking the side of the disobedient dog of a test subject–”

“Yeah, go cry to your girlfriend about it, he's under my jurisdiction and I'm not gonna let you fuck that up because you feel the need to live out your perverse power fantasy with the helpless people you kidnap and torture. As if it isn’t torture enough to have to be in the same room with you at all.”

Vaughn clenched his fists at his side and forced on the worst imitation of a smile Stan had ever borne witness to.

“You better watch your tone, Deathberry,” he said, sickly sweet voice doing nothing to mask the hissing rage. “I could have you in the same spot as him in ten seconds. Don't ever–” he jabbed Deeby in the chest. “–forget that. You're only allowed to be out here roaming around with your fancy gun and your fancy cowboy boots because you're useful, otherwise you'd be locked up with the rest–”

Vaughn had just started to reach for the holster on Deeby's belt when, faster than Stan could perceive, a flurry of movement between the two men, a cry of surprised fear, the shuffling of feet and spinning of bodies and suddenly Vaughn was pinned back first to Deeby's chest, a wire that Deeby pulled from somewhere stretched taut between his fists and pressing a hard line directly under into the skin of Vaughn's throat.

Vaughn's hands quickly flew up to the wire to try and pull it off his throat, then just as quickly let go when he realized the wire would sooner cut through his hands before it would be pried off.

Stan couldn't help but stare.

“You're just about at the end of my rope, Verhulst,” Deeby growled, accent fully presiding now as he stepped backward and pulled Vaughn toward the door. “Don't you ever put your filthy hands on my gun.”

A slight rasp to Vaughn's voice was the only thing that denoted anything was amiss. “You sure this is about the gun, Deebs? Sure you're not taking your frustrations at Lana out on me?” 

“Trust me, if I was takin’ my frustrations at Lana out on you, bud, you'd be dead.”

Vaughn's eyes shot to Stan, and his smile broadened. 

“Ohhhh, I see. So what then, you are falling for the captive? I'm sure Lana would love to hear about how you're going soft, how you miss her, and how spectacularly you're failing at finding someone better so you have to–”

A small gurk finding its way from Vaughn's throat as he was pulled to a sudden stop.

“You know what, maybe I am. And maybe you should use your mouth to do something not completely useless for once.” He spun the both of them around to face Stan again. 

“Apologize to ‘im.”

What?

Vaughn stared at Stan, apparently more stunned by the notion of apologizing than the motion of having a garot wire to his throat. Stan… honestly had to agree.

“Come again?”

“Apologize to Stan. For tryin’ to rape him. It's the least you could do.”

“You want me to… apologize?? To the test subject? You really are losing it, Deathberry, let me go.”

The wire dug into his throat more. “Say sorry, doctor.”

Vaughn glared at Stan. Stan glared back as well as he could.

“I can't feel the pain of this, you know,” Vaughn's voice came, even raspier. “You're not doing anything.”

“You can still bleed out from a slit throat. Still drown to death in your own blood as it slowly fills your lungs,” Deeby dismissed lightly. “Still bleed out. Very quickly. I wonder what would happen if I hit your carotid–

“And I wonder how Lana would feel about you slitting her head scientist and boyfriend’s throat.”

“Probably call you a little bitch boy for invoking her name every time you need to defend yourself like a spoiled toddler ‘steada bein’ a man about it and defending yourself. Or maybe not. You’d never know, you’d be dead.”

“You wouldn't–”

Deeby twitched the wire across Vaughn's throat and a line of red bloomed across the light tan of his neck. Vaughn's face grew just a little bit paler. He brought his hands up to graze across the wire and felt the warm wetness smear across his fingertips.

“Apologize.” Deeby growled. “Now.”

Vaughn's eyes flitted back to Stan, fully appraising the wonderfully wide-eyed mess he'd had pinned against the wall only moments before. 

He narrowed his eyes. 

Took a deep breath. 

Stared daggers directly into Stan's soul.

“Sorry.”

Oh you bastard.

“Go jump off a cliff!” Stan yelled, erratically reaching into the jacket pocket he'd seen Deeby pull the protein bar out of earlier and luckily finding many more, one of which was immediately thrown directly at Vaughn. He couldn't even attempt to dodge it, and it hit him directly in the chest. 

The mercenary let out a singular loud laugh and spun Vaughn back around, letting the wire retract into what Stan now realized was a little housing box on his weird arm sleeve thing and shoving Vaughn at the door as hard as he could.

“Guess he doesn't forgive you. Better luck next time!” he laughed. Stan genuinely thought (and hoped) Sweater-vest would fall flat on his face, but he managed to grab the door and right himself before that happened. Shame.

“Now get out.” Deeby said.

Vaughn glared with a literal snarl, jaw half a second away from cracking in two. Right before he took a slow, deep breath and reset his features to a forced neutral. Then an easy smile. “As you wish, my liege.” 

He bowed exaggeratedly low in a show of mock respect, retrieving his scissors from the ground in a surprisingly graceful sweeping motion as he went. Deeby just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and Stanny?” He drawled, peeking back from the door as he left and pointing his scissors directly at Stan's face with a flourish. “I look forward to seeing you soon~.” 

“Get outta here!” Deeby yelled with a threatening stomp toward the door, at the same time Stan stuttered out a very surprised and agitated “In hell!”

The door slammed shut. 

Stan could swear he could still hear Vaughn's deranged laugh echoing through the room even as an eerie silence fell over them.

He was finally gone. Finally.

See you soon.

He didn't completely understand why his breath continued to quicken. He'd won that encounter, right? Or… well, Deeby had. But still.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

He felt dizzy. More than the concussion could have caused. This was different, made him feel like he was suffocating, even though Vaughn was no longer here to strain the collar against his throat. Yet he could still feel the knuckles digging into the back of his neck.

I look forward to seeing you soon. In hell.

* * * * * * * *

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