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tswaney17 · 7 months

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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 44

This part fought me at every corner, but I said screw it. Let's post and move on. 😅 It's crazy to think there are only 5 more parts left and an epilogue. The end of an era is arriving soon. I'm excited though, to have this one finished because I've got a lot of other goodies in the works right now. Stay tuned!

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 5,852

It had been a month since the car accident and their family found out about the pregnancy. The first week after the wreck had been rough, always worrying over whether she would eventually start bleeding as a late-term consequence of the crash. Azriel, her blessed husband, was doing everything in his power to keep her calm.

But she didn’t. Not a speck of blood.

Elain thanked every god for the safety of her babies knowing she wouldn’t have survived losing them.

She and Az hadn’t discussed any further on his retaliation tactics, hoping that he would drop the whole issue. Escalating right now when they were about halfway through her pregnancy didn’t seem like the best idea.

Elain did trust Azriel’s decisions, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with them.

A sigh escaped her lips and she rubbed her palm over her more prominent belly. She was beginning to round out now, rather than just looking like an oversized, carb-based pudge. Her scrubs were starting to get tight and it was only a matter of time before she had to invest in a larger size. At least in the top. The bottoms still had some stretch available.

“Doctor Archeron,” her boss called and she whirled around to face him. “We have an incoming pediatric patient who needs a surgical consult. Are you up to being my second?”

Pediatric surgeries didn’t come often, so when they did, he always made sure she had the opportunity to assist—especially since she was the Attending and would be taking these cases on with the team of residents here soon.

She was already moving to his side. “I’m in.” With her nausea and dizzy spells, Elain had to cut back on some of her surgical procedures, unable to give her best results to the patient. She was sure it was the combination of the stress and the constant standing that always had her head feeling woozy. So, she took what she could, and then made rounds for surgical consults in the pit. Having built a strong bond with the residents, they were always eager and willing to grab her a snack or craving when she needed it, even when she profusely told them they did not need to do so. But Elain had to admit, it was nice when they did, and she made sure to reward them with her knowledge and expertise when handling difficult cases.

They slid open the glass door where the young patient was held and she stopped in her tracks. The little boy couldn’t have been more than four years old, with dark hair that brushed over the tops of his ears, and golden-brown skin. His eyes flashed when they entered revealing a green and golden gaze.

Elain recognized his heritage immediately.

He was Illyrian. Like Azriel.

She also read the fear plastered on his face, in his movements as he cradled his broken arm to his chest. Large tears littered along his lower lash line; something inside of her cracked at that desperate look.

“Hello, Kaden,” Thesan said in a kind voice, lowering the iPad to his side and looking directly at the boy. “We’re going to help take care of that arm for you.” He took a step forward and Kaden flinched, crying out softly as the movement tugged on his injury.

Her boss stopped his approach; a level of uncertainty crept into his gaze as he glanced at her for assistance.

Elain cleared her throat, capturing the boy’s attention. She moved the rolling stool closer to his bedside and slowly sat down on it, making sure he watched her every move. “Hi, Kaden,” she spoke in a soft voice. “My name is Elain.” She shuffled slightly closer, relieved when he didn’t balk at her approach. In fact, it almost seemed like his eyes flicked down to her swollen stomach before returning to her face. “I see that your arm is hurt. Would you mind if I took a closer look?” Elain held out her hand, letting it lie on his bed palm up in a calm, welcoming gesture.

When he hesitated, she added, “You’re safe here, sweetheart. We won’t hurt you.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but something in her gut told her that it wasn’t just strangers he was afraid of. It was people altogether. And that concerned her, more so than just from a physician’s standpoint.

Finally, he moved his arm over to her, those tears falling down his cheeks as he whimpered in pain.

“I know, baby. I know. You’re doing so well,” she cooed, gently examining the injury between her fingers. From the disfiguration, it was obvious that it was a transverse complete fracture, the radius and the ulna having stacked on top of each other, and somehow not penetrating through his skin.

Elain sat wondering how the hell this child had such a severe injury, and it was then she noticed the scar on his other arm from a different, extensive wound. She frowned, glancing up at Thesan through her lashes. “Without a proper x-ray, I can’t be definitive on how extensive the damage is, but I’m certain he’ll need this surgically repaired.

The other doctor crossed his arms.

Kaden flinched.

Her mouth parted. Because that wasn’t just a flinch of fear. It was a flinch of abuse. Elain had no doubt in her mind about his home life. A lump swelled in her throat at the thought of it, and she watched as Thesan slowly lowered his arms to appear less intimidating toward the young boy.

Without thinking, she reached up to trace the pads of her fingers across his temple, sweeping his hair back before brushing away the tears that still stained his cheeks. Elain released a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding when he didn’t shy away from her touch. “I’m going to put your arm in a brace to hold it still until we can fix it, okay?”

He didn’t speak, didn’t even shake his head to indicate that he understood her, but he watched her, those green and gold-speckled eyes wary, but curious too.

She slid the stool back, reached into one of the drawers on the moveable cabinet, and grabbed what she needed. Getting him into the brace was a whole thing on its own. He cried and screamed as she tried to be as gentle as she could, and every sound he made felt like a knife in her chest. “I know, sweetie. I know. But this will help, I promise,” she murmured, trying to calm him.

His pain broke her heart. Shattered it into a million pieces. Because no child deserves to suffer like that.

Once she finally got him strapped in, Elain released his arm but didn’t step back. No, she couldn’t leave him in this state. Instead, she brushed more tears away with her thumb, cupping his cheek in comfort. It was completely out of line in that patient-doctor relationship, but frankly, she didn’t give a damn. Elain wouldn’t leave him like this—refused to. So, she gave him the gentleness of her touch, the security she knew he didn’t receive from his parents, wherever the fuck they might be.

“Elain,” Thesan said, catching her gaze. “Can we speak in the hall?”

She nodded, swiping her thumb over his cheek one last time. “We’ll be back, Kaden,” she murmured, resisting the urge to kiss the top of his head. Those damn hormones were really getting to her.

He slid the door shut behind them, turning to face her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She knew he didn’t mean her actions. “The severity of his fracture looks like it came from a large fall. Maybe down a staircase. Did you notice the scar on his other arm?”

“I did,” Thesan told her, eyes going hard. It wasn’t a look she saw on him often, but child abuse cases were always difficult. “It looked like something that required stitching but didn’t receive it. It’s too harsh to have been healed properly.”

She grunted in agreement. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get an x-ray from him. Not when he’s this terrified. I know he needs surgery without it, but maybe we can grab an x-ray after we put him under?” Her boss nodded his head in a way that said he was on the same wavelength as her. “Where are his parents? How did he get brought in here?”

“I’m about to go find out from Viviane. Hopefully she or one of the other nurses can give us more detail.”

“I’ll reach out to social services and see if I can get our social worker from child protective services down here quickly. I suspect child abuse and we’re going to need somebody to sign off on his surgery,” Elain said, already pulling her phone from the front of her scrubs.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You did good in there, Elain. He wouldn’t have let me get near him, but you connected with him.” He paused, eyes flicking between hers. “It was that maternal instinct coming out. I could see it in how you handled him—comforted him. Excellent work.”

She couldn’t stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Thesan.”

Gripping her once more, he strode away, heading for the nurses’ station to speak with them about their patient.

Elain glanced back over her shoulder at the child in the room behind her, his body curled up on his side as best as he could with his arm braced. His little hand fisted the sheets, eyes having drifted close. Her heart hammered in her chest. What else could he have been through that they didn’t know? Scrolling through the phone, she tapped on the name of their CPS contact.

It rang twice before she picked up. “Hey,” Elain said quietly. “I need you at the hospital. Now.”

A pause before she said. “Give me fifteen minutes,” and hung up.

She stared through that glass door, lips pulling down into a sad frown. Something drew her toward him, and Elain was determined to figure out why.

~~~

Elain was waiting for the CPS worker at the front of the nurses’ station. She and Thesan had a quick convo where he informed her of everything they knew about their patient, which turned out, wasn’t a whole lot. He had been sent over from the hospital in Illyria, not having a pediatric surgeon on hand to help him. Technically, she and Thesan also weren’t pediatric surgeons, but they’d been trained in those patients to be able to provide him the care he needed.

Her attention snagged on the tall woman walking into the building, her pace quick and determined.

Elain met her halfway. “Emerie,” she murmured, shaking her hand. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“You sounded urgent on the phone.”

They strode through the hospital to the elevators. “It is. My patient’s name is Kaden. He has a transverse complete fracture that requires surgery.”

Emerie flicked her thick, dark plait of hair over her shoulder. “Parents won’t sign off on it?”

“Parents aren’t here,” Elain said, pressing the button for floor three to take them to the pediatrics department. “His neighbor called it in when she got home from the grocery store. Told the EMTs that she heard his screams and just called for help.”

“How old is he?”

The doors slid open and they stepped out of the elevator. “Just over four.” She directed them toward his door. “There’s something else,” she started, looking over at the boy in question. “He won’t speak and seems very intimidated by people. Fearful of them. I suspect he’s a victim of child abuse. I was barely able to get the brace on him, so we haven’t attempted an x-ray yet.”

Emerie pursed her lips in contemplation. “What’s your plan?”

“We want to do the x-ray while he’s under. It’s obvious he will need his facture repaired surgically, but we won’t get a clear picture of the damage until we get him prepped.”

She nodded. “I can get on board with that after I try and talk with him of course.” Emerie looked in at the child lying on the bed. “You said he’s just over four?” she asked.

“Yes. His chart shows his birthday was a few months ago.”

Those dark eyes found hers. “He looks awfully small for a four-year-old.”

Elain’s heart ached in her chest. “Yes, we were thinking he appeared a bit malnourished.”

“Do me a favor. When you get him in for x-rays, get some of his body. I want to see if any previous injuries can sanction the abuse.”

Elain’s chin dipped in confirmation as she grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open. “Hello, Kaden,” she said, voice softening. “I’ve brought a friend who wants to talk with you.”

His head turned to look over at them, eyes going straight to Emerie. He shuffled on the bed, curling into himself.

She shared a glance with Elain before moving forward, cautiously. “Hello, Kaden. My name is Emerie. I’m here to help you.”

He blinked at her, not unfurling from his fetal-like position.

Emerie frowned, returning her attention to her. “Do you think he might be deaf?”

Elain’s brows shot into her hairline. She hadn’t thought that at all. “He seems like he can hear us, but let me see,” she said, turning to sign can you hear me at the little boy.

No response.

She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s deaf. Just mute.”

The social worker’s mouth turned down further. “I’ll sign off on the surgery. I can see the injury from here. Has anyone tried to contact his parents?”

“There’s a number for a father, but it’s been disconnected. I can give you his file to see if there’s anything you can pull from it.” Emerie gripped her arm in thanks, moving to sit down on the rolling stool that she sat upon earlier. “I’m going to call up to the OR to get a room prepped. A nurse will be in with the forms to sign in a bit.”

She gave Kaden a small smile, hoping it would bring one to his face, but he just stared at her, little hands fisting the bedsheets. Elain felt an undeniable pull toward the child. A deep-seated need to help him—care for him. She just needed to figure out how.

~~~

Four remodeled fractures.

Elain sat in the chair next to Kaden’s bed as she looked through the X-rays they took of him. She pulled out four, severe remodeled fractures—now five with the one they just repaired. How the fuck did a child of four have five fractures in his lifetime already?

Anger, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before burned inside of her like a volcano readying to erupt. It was obvious that this boy had experienced such tremendous pain and horrors in his young life. She couldn’t help but compare him to her husband, born into cruelty. Abused and neglected. Left to fend for himself.

It left a dangerous spot in her heart. One where she wasn’t sure if she could untangle him from.

The door slid open and Emerie popped in, her dark eyes glancing toward the sleeping child. “How’d it go?” she whispered. Getting him under had taken some work. The anesthesiologist ordered him to be held down so he could put the mask on his crying face when she entered.

“Do not hold him down,” Elain had growled, storming into the operating room after having scrubbed down. The surgical nurses seemed to back up at the look on her face. Even the two residents assigned to the surgery hesitated. She’d moved to his side, fingers stroking his soft cheek. “Hi, sweet boy,” she murmured, voice softening. “I’m going to fix your arm now, but you need to go to sleep first. You don’t want to be awake for this.” Her thumb made a gentle caress back and forth on his face. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

She made quick work wiping his tears away, humming under her breath a simple lullaby. Elain waited until he was calm, silver-lined eyes drying as his eyelids slowly lowered without her even using the gas on him. She knew he was likely exhausted, having gone hours without much sleep. The constant crying would’ve drained him too. So, only when he finally shut his eyes, did she take the mask from the anesthesiologist and place it over his face.

The door clicking shut behind Emerie pulled her from her memory. “Getting him under was rough, but I managed to get it done.” She held out the X-rays for her. “He’s had four other fractures that I found. Two hairline ones on his third and fourth ribs, one to his left femur, and one…” her words trailed off, unable to spit out the location of that last injury.

Emerie took a seat on the stool, facing her. “Where was the last one, Elain?”

She took a ragged breath. “On the back of his skull.”

“Any ideas on how he got it?”

Elain sat back in the chair she’d brought in. “Looks like he might’ve collided with something. Probably pushed backward and fell into a table or something similar.”

“They were set properly, though?”

She nodded. “Yes, the last one looks to be about a year old now. The others are about two.” Elain frowned. “The first four were cared for, but this time he was left alone to deal with it. What changed?” she wondered more to herself than anything, but it appeared the social worker had the answer.

Emerie handed her another file. “His mother died. It wasn’t in his medical report, but I had some people do a little digging and found the name of his birth parents. Lorenzo and Anastasia Salazar.” Her lips turned down in the corner. “Reviewing everything you’ve given me and the reports I’ve pulled, I’d theorize the abuse came from the father and when he left, the mother took him to seek medical attention off books.”

“Off books?” Elain asked, brows furrowing.

“There’s nothing in his medical history about the abuse. No flags have ever been attached to his profile in the system. So, either they paid off whatever doctor they used, or they had somebody private doing at-home calls.”

Like Azriel’s personal medical team…She was careful to keep her face neutral, but Elain had a feeling that Lorenzo was a part of some gang, if not the Illyrian Mob itself. Sighing, she looked back at the sleeping boy, her heart racing in her chest.

“Should I be looking into other options for him aside from foster care?” Emerie asked carefully, eyes flicking down to her pregnant stomach and then back up.

Elain’s dark gaze met hers. “I don’t know,” she said earnestly.

The social worker seemed to understand. “Tell you what. I’ll prepare both options for you and then you can decide what you want to do after you talk to your husband.”

Something inside her chest unlocked at her words.

A groggy sigh caught their attention and they twisted to see Kaden’s eyes fluttering open. His small whimper had Elain moving, sitting on the edge of his bed to run her fingers through his dark hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured.

He looked at her with large, hazel, and green eyes before curling into her side, cuddling close to her.

It took all of Elain’s willpower to not sob in elation that he felt comfortable with her now. How long had he gone without love or affection that he would cling to a near stranger who showed him any sort of warmth?

Emerie smiled, rising from her chair. “I’m going to go start handling some paperwork. Call me if you need anything in the meantime or if anything changes.”

She waved her off, resituating herself on his bed as she gave herself a few more seconds of snuggling this precious boy.

~~~~~

Azriel knew something was bothering Elain the moment she stepped through the elevator door. He could read it on her face, in the half-assed smile she shot him. In the way she picked at the food on her dinner plate.

It frustrated him that when he asked her about work, knowing something was wrong, she lied to his face and said it was fine. It wasn’t fine. Nothing about the way his wife was acting was fine. He just wished she would tell him what it was.

“You need to eat, El,” he tried, keeping his voice soft.

She pushed her plate back. “I’m not hungry.”

He tried not to get irritated—he knew Elain was carrying a lot on her plate with her job and the pregnancy. But he was done with her not being honest with him. Azriel sighed, setting his utensils down on his plate with a clank. “All right. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

Her dark eyes glanced at him, before returning to stare at her meal. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit, Elain. I can tell something is wrong without you even having to say it. It’s written as clear as day on your face. I am your husband. You’re supposed to confide in me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s the matter.”

Az expected her to relent. To sigh, eyes rolling to the sky and finally tell him everything. What he didn’t expect was for her to burst into tears.

Her face fell into the cradle of her palms as a heart-wrenching sob tore from her throat.

For a moment, he froze, blind-sighted by the sudden emotion. And then the panic swept in. He was out of his seat a second later, moving around the edge of the table to pull her chair back and kneeling in front of her seat. “Hey,” he murmured, rubbing his hands on her thighs. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He kissed her kneecap, squeezing her legs gently to show her he was there for her.

Elain sniffed, running the back of her hand under her nose. “You didn’t upset me.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Then what did, love?”

She let out a shaky breath, hands falling into her lap. He took one in his, gripping it tightly. “I had a patient today with a fractured arm that we had to surgically repair. He was only four, and was brought in alone—no father and the mother died last year.” Elain sniffed again. “I found four other remodeled fractures on him from over the last two years. One of them was on the back of his skull.”

Azriel had a feeling about where this was leading. “Abuse?” he asked, voice carefully soft.

Elain nodded. “It would appear so.” She wet her lips, finally meeting his gaze. “Az, he looks like you. He could be your son.”

His eyes widened, unsure of where she was going but he had a hunch.

“I picked out his Illyrian heritage easily enough, but his circumstances, the way he’s been brutalized…they all remind me of you. Of your past.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Just hearing about the pain that had been inflicted on him reminded Az of his childhood. In how his father and half-brothers tortured him. It took an effort to not glance down at his scarred hands, a physical reminder of the trauma he’d endured. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“I’ve been in touch with Child Protective Services and he will likely go into the foster care system. But, looking at what’s been done to him, in the fact that he refuses to talk, and is terrified of adults, I’m concerned he won’t even be considered for adoption…” She let the words hang there, hoping he’d pick up on the unspoken ones she hadn’t yet said out loud but was hinting toward.

Az cocked his head to the side. “You want to adopt him.” It wasn’t a question—it didn’t need to be one. He could see Elain’s every desire as if it were written on her forehead. She had fallen in love with that child.

She dipped her head in confirmation, lower lip trapped between her teeth.

He squeezed her fingers again, thinking over his next few questions. “Love, I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise me you won’t get upset with me for it. Because I think this question needs to be asked.”

Her tongue darted along her lip, but she nodded for him to continue.

“Could the desire to adopt him have anything to do with your pregnancy? I know you have a lot of hormones running through you right now, and your maternal side is going to be very potent. This isn’t just because of that, right? You truly want him?”

Elain was already shaking her head. “No, it’s not that. He was brought to me for a reason, Az. I can feel it in my gut.” Her small hand cradled her stomach in emphasis.

He kissed her knuckles. “And it’s not because he reminds you of me?” He needed to hear her say it. That she wasn’t trying to save this child because of the similarities, but because she truly wanted to take on another kid.

“I’ve never been one for higher powers, but there’s something about Kaden that has completely unraveled me. He fears people but he trusts me. I know, deep in my heart, he was brought to my hospital because I could give him the life he deserves. That we could offer him something better and love him so fully, he’ll never remember a time where he suffered.” Elain wiped the tear from under her lashes. “He is supposed to be our son, Az. I just know it down to my bones.”

It was a lot to consider. She was halfway through her pregnancy with twins and adopting a third child right now would be insane. But he knew they could do it—that they had the means and the love to give to three children. People might call them mad, but looking at her, he had never seen such determination in her eyes and he could feel it buzzing under his skin. “All right,” he said, squeezing her hand again. “I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow afternoon to meet him.”

Elain’s brown eyes brightened like rays of sunshine. “Really? You mean that?”

“If he’s important to you, then he’s important to me, love. That’s the only thing that matters.” And he meant it too. Azriel would lay the stars at her feet if she asked for them.

More tears ran down her cheeks as she slid off her chair and threw her arms around his neck. He held her close, one hand cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, and the other running lines up and down her spine.

“Thank you, Az,” she cried, dampening the skin of his throat.

He hushed her sobs, pulling back to hold her cheeks in his palms. “I love you, Elain. All of you. And I would give you anything your heart desires.” His words had her crying in earnest, enough so that it took him a while to calm her down.

Thoroughly exhausted, Azriel carried his pregnant wife up the stairs and put her to bed; a hum of excitement stirring in his chest at what was to come.

~~~

Azriel pulled into a parking spot outside of the hospital at exactly three o’clock. His heart was racing in his chest like he’d just run a marathon, his gut swirling with anxiety. Elain had told him that the boy—Kaden, he reminded himself—was fearful of adults. In particular, males.

What if he didn’t like him? If he was scared of him? The questions had been daunting him all day and if he was being honest with himself, he was worried. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to form a connection with this child. That he’d only bond with Elain and would resent Az’s presence.

It was fucking irrational, he knew that. But still, the thoughts invaded his mind and refused to let go.

He pulled out his phone and checked the messages from Elain.

Third floor, children’s ICU.

He’s been exceptionally clingy to me today.

Az smiled down at his phone at the second message, picturing the little boy snuggled into his wife’s side when she visited him. Which, was every chance she got.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of the vehicle and headed to the front entrance.

The Moonbeam twins had taken up residence in the lobby and spotted him immediately, rising from their seats to greet him.

“Mr. Knight,” Fenrys spoke. “Is everything all right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder into the emergency room concerned.

“Everything is fine. I’m just meeting Elain for an appointment.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. They had decided to forgo telling anyone about the potential adoption until much further into the process, not wanting anyone to try and talk them out of it.

“Of course,” Connall said, stepping aside. “We won’t keep you waiting.”

He offered them a quirk of his lips before heading for the elevator, but he stopped on his way, spying the hospital gift shop. In particular, the stuffed teddy bear in the window. With a glance over his shoulders to make sure nobody had spotted him, he turned into the shop and plucked the bear out of the window display, taking it to the cashier.

A few minutes later, he was riding up to floor three, the soft, plush toy in his grip. Az tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening it around his neck. His hazel eyes spotted Elain across the floor, sitting on the edge of a bed. Her mouth was moving, but she was behind a closed door so he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Like a moth to a flame, he moved toward her, his heart hammering in his chest as he approached the glass slider and knocked.

Elain’s head snapped up, the most radiant smile pulling on her lips as she beckoned him in with a wave of her hand. Fuck, she was so gorgeous. Even made more radiant by the pregnancy as she entered into the second-trimester glow.

Azriel slid the door open, catching the end of her sentence.

“—someone I’d like for you to meet.”

Her fingers threaded through a dark mop of hair, and he finally let his eyes roam over the small child clinging to her waist.

“Kaden, this is my husband, Azriel. Azriel,” she said, gaze flicking to his with a soft smile. “This is Kaden.”

He looked at the young boy, meeting his stare and offering him a calming smile. “Hello, Kaden. It’s nice to meet you.”

Not a sound. Nothing from him other than turning to bury his face further into Elain’s side.

His heart broke, but Azriel was nothing if not determined, placing the teddy bear on the bed against the railing.

Elain grinned at him, thumb rubbing over Kaden’s cheek. “Did you see what Azriel brought you?” she murmured.

A green eye, flecked with gold peeked out from Elain’s waist, glancing at the plush toy but he didn’t reach for it.

Az sat down on the rolling stool, sliding over to the opposite side of the bed as his wife.

“We were just reading a story,” she announced, handing him the book. “How about Azriel finishes for me?” she murmured, brushing Kaden’s dark hair away from his face. “How does that sound?”

He thumbed open the book, going to the page she indicated they left off on. Clearing his throat, he began to read, using the inflections of his voice to aid him in his efforts to make it engaging. Kaden didn’t move away from his wife the entire time he spoke, but he did eventually turn his head to watch him.

Azriel took in the child in his peripheral, seeing the resemblance of himself. He could see why she had claimed he could’ve been his son. Bearing nearly his identical coloring and many similar markers of his Illyrian heritage, Kaden could easily be mistaken as his biological child.

And yet, it was obvious that Kaden was terrified of him.

He sat there for an hour, reading with him, trying to converse with him, and nothing. Azriel felt like a failure. Rising from his seat, he bid the boy farewell, shooting his wife a sad smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” she told them, ruffling Kaden’s hair before following him out of the room.

“He hates me,” he groaned, stopping in his tracks and scrubbing the heels of his palms over his eyes.

Elain moved to stand in front of him. “He does not hate you, Azriel. He’s just intimidated by you—”

“How is that better?”

She ran a hand up his bicep to grip him around the back of his neck. “You can make yourself less intimidating, Az. You in a suit is a force to be reckoned with, and frankly, I have a feeling his father wore similar attire.”

His brows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

Her thumb traced over his jaw. “The woman who found him refused to give the paramedics her name. They said she looked terrified to even be talking to them. He’s Illyrian, Az…” her voice trailed off, leading him to the answer.

“You think his father is in the Illyrian Mob.” Not a question but a statement of fact.

“Lorenzo Salazar,” Elain confirmed.

The name didn’t immediately register anything in his brain, but he had something to go off of now. Azriel would look into him, find every single detail about the man’s life, and then decide if he deserved to die for the pain and suffering he put his son through.

“Come back tomorrow in jeans and a plain shirt and I’m sure it will help,” Elain told him, bringing his attention back to her face. Her eyes glanced over his shoulder to the boy in the room, a smile tugging on her lips. “Az,” she whispered, nodding toward the room behind them.

Something warm flared in his chest as he turned, and saw Kaden clutching the teddy bear he brought tightly to his body.

Elain stepped up to his side. “If he was afraid of you, Azriel, he would not be touching that toy. You connected with him, even if you can’t physically see it, but you did.”

A sense of awe washed over him, followed by an overwhelming urge to love and protect that boy. He wasn’t sure how long they stood staring at his sleeping form until he breathed, “I want him, El…I want him to be a part of our family.”

Her soft hand slipped into his, fingers lacing. “So, let’s bring him home.”

With joy and love, they stood watching the boy who would one day soon become their son.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Note

i know you only uploaded it a few hours ago, but please carry on the reader accidentally summoning morpheus, im dying to know their history, and his feelings on how much time has passed <3 big fan!!

A/N: By popular demand, I'm writing a 2nd part. The quoted poem is something I was obsessed with as a kid. My mom still quotes it.

[Imagine accidentally summoning Morpheus] || [Sandman-inspired playlist]

All of it sounded like a madman's bad joke.

"Wait, hold on." You waved your hand. Hunching over the dusty box filled with remnants of your childhood, you began looking for another trinket that surely must have been there. "You mean that you are... goddamn where is it... I saw it somewhere here... Got it!" you exclaimed when you stood up with a thin, red book in your hand. "You mean that you are this funny fella?"

Your finger was tapping against the cover of a children's book. There was an illustration of a Santa Claus-like man carrying a big sack thrown over his shoulder. He was climbing a ladder to an open bedroom window. Above the picture, in fancy curvy letters, was written Grandfather Sand.

A small smile crept unto Morpheus's face. His eyes lit up vividly and you suspected that if he was any less reserved in his emotional expression, he would have laughed in your face. "Did you think he is the Sandman?"

"I didn't think the Sandman was at all," you retorted as you carelessly tossed the book on your bed. Looking once more at the pleasantly familiar illustration, the nostalgia made you recall something Morpheus had said to you a few minutes ago. "You said you know my face."

"I have visited you many times before," he stated. After a moment, he added in a quieter, defeated tone: "But you don't seem to remember."

You only shrugged your shoulders. "If I was a toddler, then no wonder. It was lifetimes ago."

Morpheus gave the room an absent once-over before staring at the box next to the two of you. Something brown and fur-like was peeking from behind dolls and plastic horses. His pale, skeletal hand reached for the mysterious object only for it to turn out to be an old, worn-out teddy bear. It still smelled of your grandmother's perfume. Sometimes you wondered what happened to him... Apparently, Terry had been safe and sound in your grandmother's basement throughout all those years.

Dream was examining the bear when he suddenly decided to make you recall something you had already forgotten you once remembered: "Maybe Spot tugged at him, tore the ear off, didn't say he's sorry?"

It was a quote - one that you had grown to know all too well. You felt as though that single line from a rhymed story allowed you to rediscover the oldest memories your brain could possibly store like you suddenly became privy to a life you had once led but not anymore. "A needle, a thread, a pair of hands, we'll mend the hurt right away," you quietly continued." You fixed Terry..." Yes, that plushy friend from your childhood did need an 'emergency surgery' once, although you could never quite recall who sew his ear back on. At some point, you even began questioning whether his little accident was even real as there was no sign of a tear whatsoever.

The memory came to you in waves like afterimages of a dream one tries to recall after waking up. It was all blurry, voices heard from miles away and sights as if seen through a dirty lens. "Yeah, I remember I used to ask to be told the same three stories over and over again and you were never frustrated with me."

"You were a great listener."

"So, how does this work? The melody plays and you just, puff, appear wherever?"

Morpheus sat Terry at the top of the dolls, plastic horses and fairytale books about fairies still residing inside the box. His bony hand lingered on the brown, matted fur of the plushie. "It was a gift." His gaze returned to you. "To a girl who just like you could not fall asleep. For decades it remained silent until that one night when I met you for the first time."

Your hand brushed against the ceramic raven inside the music box. It was quite an interesting choice of design for an item meant for children. "A magical heirloom. Sounds cool." The ghosting touch of your fingers was withheld only for you to close the enamelled lid for an unspecified amount of time. "Don't worry, I won't abuse that... privilege. I'm sure you have a lot going on anyway."

Without letting his gaze leave you, Morpheus was a little too quick to answer you. "Play it anytime you want."

His expression remained generally ambiguous but you figured it was just the way he looked. There was, however, one detail of his face that caught your attention: his eyebrows slightly raised making him appear somewhat surprised or nervous. "Is that permission or a suggestion?" you asked.

"Both."

Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @secretdreamlandmentality @kbrownie @lolitaisreal @thegraywitch @aralezinspace @boofy1998

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photogirl894 · 6 months

Note

Hello, for your celebration, could I request angst with Wrecker and fem romantic reader, “I can’t do this anymore.” with “I’ll never be enough.”

Thanks!

I remember I had started this one when you were having problems with your blog cuz I didn't want to lose the request and I'm sorry I'm only now finishing it 😫

"Living In Fear"

19. "I can't do this anymore."

23. "I'll never be enough."

Pairing: Wrecker x fem reader

***

You found yourself crying in the corner of your apartment, your heart breaking inside.

Not long ago, you had gotten a message from the Bad Batch. Your sweetheart, Wrecker, had been involved in a bad accident...and they weren't sure if he was going to pull through. They were trying to make it back to Coruscant in time to get him proper medical attention and if they did, they wanted you to be there.

That's where you were really struggling. Not only were you distraught with worry that you could lose Wrecker, but the constant fear you'd been experiencing for months of whether or not Wrecker or any of the boys would come back okay from each mission was eating you alive. You loved all of those Clones dearly, but every time they left on a mission, you couldn't help but worry if that would be the last you'd see of them. So far, each time they came back, but there was always that fear that it would one day come to an end.

Now, it seemed as though that time had come for Wrecker and you couldn't handle it.

"I can't do this anymore...!" you cried aloud to yourself.

You couldn't take living in constant fear anymore. As much as you cared deeply for Wrecker and wanted him in your life, it was too much worrying if he would come back from each mission. Though, now, it might not even matter because he could die at any time. That thought scared you more. You didn't want to lose him. What were you going to do?

A couple of agonizing hours passed until you got another transmission from Hunter saying they had made it to Coruscant, Wrecker had been taken to the GAR's top medical facility and the medics had told them Wrecker would be okay. They had been able to save him in time, some surgeries had been performed and he was going to recover. You found yourself crying again, this time with absolute relief. Wrecker was going to be okay!

But...were you willing to risk this kind of heartache again?

What if there was another mission where he got hurt again? What if next time, he didn't make it back alive or the medics couldn't save him? Your heart would surely fail.

Hunter had asked if you would come see Wrecker now that he was awake and out of surgery...but you told him you weren't sure and voiced your worries to him. There was definitely sadness and a bit of disappointment in his face when he listened to you.

"I...understand what you must be going through," Hunter told you, "and I know that worry must be weighing heavily on you, but...you are the best thing that ever happened to Wrecker. He cares very deeply for you and your name was the first thing he said when he was waking up. I think you would be making a mistake if you left him now...and I say that for both your sakes because I know you care just as much for him. Please...come see him...or at least think about it, okay?"

You gave him a tearful nod and the transmission ended. Inside, your heart was in pain, enough that it made you clutch at your chest. You knew Hunter was right. Despite the fear you harbored, you knew it would ultimately kill you to end things with Wrecker.

Your love for Wrecker was stronger than your fear.

With that epiphany in mind, you rushed as quickly as you could to get to the medical facility.

When you got there, you were directed to the room Wrecker and his brothers were in and you ran swiftly to the room. The door to the right room opened, you started to run in...but then you heard voices inside on the other side of a curtain.

"So...she's not coming?" you heard Wrecker ask, apparent sorrow in his voice.

"I...I don't think so, Wrecker," Hunter's voice replied. "She wants to, but...the thought of almost losing you is just...a lot for her to handle right now."

"I should've known it was too good to be true," Wrecker said back and tears immediately came to your eyes. "I hate making her feel afraid all the time, especially for me. If she doesn't want to deal with that anymore...then I guess I can understand. I thought it would be different with her, but...I should've known better. I'm not enough for her. I'll never be enough."

You were seconds away from throwing the curtain back and shouting how wrong Wrecker was, but you heard Hunter tell him, "That isn't true and I know she'll tell you the same things...because she's here."

Right then, the curtain was pulled away and you saw Hunter standing closest to you and then Tech, Echo and Crosshair on either side of the medical bed. On the raised up bed laid Wrecker, almost the whole left side of his face wrapped up in bandages. You had forgotten for a second about Hunter's enhanced senses and so he would've known that you'd shown up. The others looked surprised to see you, but Wrecker looked the most surprised of all. He said your name both in shock and also sadness at you now seeing him this way. You burst into tears, crying out his name in return and you practically leapt onto the bed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as you could without hurting him. As he hugged you back, you heard several sets of footsteps behind you followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. You figured the rest of the boys had left to give you and Wrecker some privacy.

"I'm so sorry," Wrecker told you, stroking your back.

"Don't apologize," you said, shaking your head in his neck. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I let my fear and worry rule my head and my heart and I nearly wanted to let you go...but I just knew I couldn't. Yes, I worry anytime you leave for a mission, but I worry because you mean so much to me. You give me something to care for. I love you too much to let my fear come between us. You are enough for me, Wrecker, and you always will be!"

His arms tightened even more around you. "You also give me something to care for and a place to come home to. I love you and you'll always be enough for me, too. I was scared I was going to die and leave you alone...but I'm happy I lived so I could stay in your life. I'm not gonna leave you like that."

You kissed his cheek and hugged him tighter. "I know you won't...nor will I ever leave you."

Photogirl894's Angst Prompts

Photogirl894's 1000 Followers Fics

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch wrecker #bad batch prompts #wrecker x reader #photogirl894 1000 followers

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wrongcaitlyn · 3 months

Note

for the ask game !!! 4, 6 and 22 for tyt / dear reader in general !!!

4. If the fic required it, what did you research in order to write it?

oh SO much😭 there was definitely a lot of research into dates, at first, just because i wanted to make sure i was lining up all the award shows with the actual dates and choosing which award shows to write (also coming across the fact that grammys 2018 was on jan 28...) also, the categories that were in award shows, i had to research what exactly all of those categories were for - which ones nico would be nominated for, who they were awarded to (just the singer, also the producer?). the amount of time that i spent on the grammys' wikipedia page was much longer than i'll ever admitslkjfd

also billboard charts! i did a ton of research into records, how they're counted, because i wanted to make sure that when i was mentioning nico's milestones, they were at least somewhat realistic. i read through a bunch of billboard album reviews and articles with producers and whatnot to try and figure out the basics of music journalism.

there was research into transitioning, as well, even though i was much more hesitant to trust *google* for that sort of stuff, but i wanted to know just how easy it would be for nico to actually get top surgery and whatnot, and also the effects of binders when singing/having a performance and stuff

SO MUCH OLYMPICS RESEARCH. LIKE. god i think i complained about this at some point but seriously, the archery world championships and olympics qualification is still confusing asf to me. but i wanted to make sure that, despite kayla being a relatively minor character, i was figuring out all the right dates, how she would get qualified, records for youngest world champions, etc etc.

weather accounts. ik that it's very unnecessary but i genuinely looked up dates for concerts and what the weather was, or when i wanted it to rain i actually looked up whether it was raining, how i could twist it to when it *did* rain, and whatnot. i may be insane when it comes to details like that

and in general, i watched a lot of interviews (though that was in my free time, and tbf i've always been interested in it, even before i started writing the series) about artists and singer-songwriters and how they wrote, how they worked, and just the entire creating-an-album process

there's probably a lot more that i'm forgetting, bc i genuinely was always researching something. fun fact! there hasn't been an italian artist to reach #1 on the billboard hot 100 since 1958 (he was also the first european artist to reach #1 on the billboard hot 100).

6. How did you decide what tense and POV(s) to use?

i had just written a fic (my hunger games au) in past tense, and when writing it, i felt like i kept slipping into present. so when i started writing talk your talk, i decided to just test out present tense and see whether i liked that better (back when i thought it would be a relatively short oneshot, maybe a oneshot series)

the funny thing about that is that i thought i didn't like it, and so THEN when i wrote another fic - my marauders jegulus fame au - i decided to write that one in past tense. a warning for any writers: NEVER. write two wip's that are in different tenses. it's a horrible kind of torture. since then, i've had to write all of my other fics in present tense because i didn't want to mess up my brain while writing talk your talk - it's so confusing to switch it up, because then i'd also have to monitor what i was reading, and if i read something present tense, i wasn't able to write starry eyes; if i read something past tense, i wasn't able to write talk your talk. i couldn't write one and then switch over to the other, i had to like program my brain to think in the correct tense - ANYWAY it was very very hard and i highly recommend to never do that and just stick with one tense, at least until you want to fully switch over😭

as for the pov, in talk your talk, it was always going to be nico! the whole fic was very centered around him, and i knew that i wanted to add all these details on how he felt about his rise to fame - i really wanted that internal dialogue during shows, and school, and producing music, and also how songs would come to be and whatnot. also, i had just written my hunger games au in nico's pov, and i just really liked it😭

when it came to greatest of luxuries, i knew that i wanted to expand on the universe. that did horrendous things to my wordcount, but i think it was for the best!! i got to add more character development to will, which was *really* important to me, seeing as he and nico are pretty separate stories while nico is on tour and will is in college, and it also let me introduce a bunch of new characters!! i added a few other interludes too, with a bunch of different pov's, but the most interesting, i think, was apollo

apollo's pov/memoir (and i'm so sorry, i know you haven't gotten to that yet but i just had to include it when talking about pov's!!) is one of my FAVORITE things to write. i knew that i wanted to add more of apollo's lore and his story to the au, but for a while, i didn't know how to do it - it didn't feel right to just add an apollo pov where all he does is reflect on the past and so i got SO excited when i thought of creating a memoir. usually i'm heavily against writing in first person, but it just felt so natural with apollo - how else could you have a pov that just focuses on the past (pretty much an entirely different timeline) but still with the huge ego of apollo? while he still shows maturity and how he's grown as a person?? i'm already such a fan of including mixed media in my fics, but the memoir has to be my favoritekjldsf

22. What is something you learned about yourself as a writer from the experience?

i love causing pain. i think i already knew that, seeing as one of my first fics when starting to write again last year was a hunger games au in which i killed off like a good majority of the main cast. but there was something cool in writing angst as a theme in talk your talk, when fame au's largely focus more on the reputation of a person, conflicts between relationship, etc. not that i have a problem with those, seeing as im a sucker for literally any kind of fame au, but i sort of put them in the background for this series!

overall, i feel like i've grown such a huge amount with this fic. i started it around the same age as nico and will, only slightly younger, and now they're nearly 20 and im still 16. both in the writing sense and just in general, i really got over my fear of starting/committing to longer fics, because i really just fell in love with the universe. i learned that i *love* adding different forms of media to fics, and that one of my favorite things about writing is exploring how different universes would impact the characters differently - it would shape their personalities, give them some different characteristics and different outlooks on life, and that's prob why i love au's so muchdjfs

but the main main thing is that this is the first time that i feel like i really wrote the fic and got a huge community out of it - i've always had a few mutuals in fandoms and whatnot (both when editing and writing), but with talk your talk, i started getting repeat commenters, and eventually started my tumblr, and i realized how incredibly motivating it is to be able to share my obsession with the au with so many other people!! it's been an absolutely incredible experience <33

well i definitely rambled a lot thereDLKFJS thank you for the asks!!

#wrongcaitlyn #talk ur talk asks

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streetkid-named-desire · 1 month

Text

I'm not going to apologize because I do still think pinky is a fucking dick. But I am going to explain some things.

Do you think if I have someone blocked and even reblogs turned off specific posts that that is a boundary I am setting? That regardless of whether or not he saw those posts I was expecting him to do the decent thing, and, seeing an obvious temper tantrum, move on with his goddamn day?

Instead, he takes my ranting into the void and makes a shitty post replying to it knowing I will never see it. I have never done that to him. I don't care to reply to anything he says about me. That's why I've treated this the way I have. He set a boundary as did I. He didn't respect that boundary.

He has a significantly larger platform than me giving him more power over the narrative. By making that post, by screenshotting and replying to posts I did not make rebloggable for a fucking reason, he is exposing his significant following to a one-sided narrative about personal vent posts. I never reached out to him directly. I never screenshotted his posts. Sure, I posted about him, but that's because I like to believe people are inherently good and empathetic and would recognize that I'm just venting about a popular fucking modder.

I understand many people are new to Tumblr and haven't been here as long as I have (literally since the beginning in 2007) and so may not understand Tumblr etiquette.

When you block someone it's because you're setting a fucking boundary not to interact with them and expecting that to be the end of it. Usually, if you're a normal person and not an asshole, it is the end of it.

But he had to go through specific posts after I already had him blocked, posts that were not rebloggable, and act like it was some takedown of legitimate criticism.

No. You're just a fucking asshole.

I've had a complex history and relationship with my breasts. I admit my actions were purely out of emotion because I didn't expect to feel the way I did using the flat chest body. I still haven't processed it with my therapist because I'm afraid because it requires bringing up a lot of trauma.

Pinky saw a vulnerable fucking digital collage and decided to bring up his fucking post again as "context". It's not context. It's just you being a fucking spiteful asshole. I also deleted the other post I made the next morning juxtaposing comments on Nexus from the mod with definitions of like grifter and femboy along with some screenshots of my own attempts at top surgery and shit because I realized it was actually out of line. The digital collage was the one thing I wanted to highlight because that helped me process my feelings, that meant the most to me.

Maybe I'm old but Tumblr is a microblogging website and blogging is, in its original form, personal. It started as a place where people went to publicly journal about their thoughts and feelings and experiences. That's what I was doing. I was venting about someone with a significantly larger following, with more power in the modding community, with more sway over people in fandom and what I thought was bullshit.

The posts were not rebloggable.

Pinky was already blocked.

This wasn't some fucking callout post about him trying to get people to hate him. It was because I was frustrated and in emotional distress.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize it was all pure emotion until it was too late. This is a common pattern and this is why I am trying to move on with my life. There is nothing I can do except learn from my actions and move on.

I'm hurt that I lost friends because they didn't seem to understand or care or be able to recognize that it was all out of emotion and not really any fucking logic.

But that's fine. I don't need people in my life that aren't going to give me the benefit of the doubt and go "hey, are you good? You're kinda getting a little crazy about this shit." And instead just shittalk me behind my back.

I have a whole bunch of people that liked or replied to that post blocked now and I'd appreciate if that boundary was fucking respected. I'm also not allowing this post to be reblogged because, again, I set a boundary. But I'm sure people will screenshot and send this to him anyway because you can't help yourself.

I saw so many people posting about how they hate drama in the community. If you hate it so much, why are you participating? Why are you adding fuel to the fire? You don't hate it, you just don't want to be wrong. You don't want to feel the discomfort of recognizing your own cognitive dissonance and figuring out what your actual values are and if you're really living your life in a way that makes you happy.

Don't even get me started on what he said about a fucking trans person venting "smells terfy" or accused me of using the community I'm a part of. Why do you think I was so emotionally charged about it??? Because I hate my fucking tits dude!

CHRIST this is childish ass bullshit.

This is, once and for all, the actual last post I'm EVER making on this. Please feel free to DM me, my ask box is open including anon. I am happy to talk about it one on one. But I'm tired of this and want to move on. I want to go to therapy and figure out what to do about my tits. I want to make refits. I want to write fanfic. I want to live my fucking life without worrying some hypocritical asshole is going to try to turn people against me for some fucking vent posts.

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spacelazarwolf · 1 year

Note

Hi I don't know if you do advice posts but I'm really hitting it off with this guy who has sorta run in adjacent social circles but who i didn't really get to know personally until the past month or so. He recently disclosed to me that he's trans and while it isn't a deal breaker by any means the truth is I've never dated nor slept with a trans guy and I'm not sure whether I should mention that to him if we decide to pursue something so that he knows not to expect too much in terms of skill or not to so that he doesn't get the wrong impression and think I'm using him for an experiment. I'm either a gnc cis woman or some flavor of nonbinary but I'm not sure yet and I'm attracted to men

so imo, the best course of action would be to not disclose. i think you'll both feel more comfortable if you just let the relationship progress organically. if he asks and you're comfortable sharing, i think you can definitely tell him and also include that you don't want him to feel like an experiment. that should open the door for some good conversations about boundaries, likes and dislikes, what terminology he prefers, if he has had a form of bottom surgery, etc. basically, just let him take the lead on that. those conversations can start to feel a little clinical, so feel free to make them spicy. it's more fun that way.

this isn't necessarily what you asked about, but my adhd brain is taking me there, so here's my nsfw advice for folks who want to have sex with a trans person for the first time and are nervous about what to do. ymmv, and of course other trans folks are welcome to contribute. this can also apply to a lot of intersex folks as well, but i'm not gonna speak on that part since i'm not intersex, so intersex folks definitely feel welcome to add to this as well.

he's pre or no op and you're not sure what to call his junk and you don't want to just come out and ask? get a sexy conversation going and ask what he wants you to do to him. he'll describe his body with the terminology he prefers, and you can pick it up from there.

not sure if she's comfortable with you going near her genitals? "tell me where you want me to touch you" "where do you want me to put my mouth?" this is another great way to find out what someone calls parts of their body.

nervous about how to interact with his bottom growth? "i want to watch you touch yourself." "show me how you want me to touch you." watch what he does and copy that when you take over.

not sure if they're a top or a bottom or a side? start with what you prefer (or if you have boundaries about what roles you're not comfortable taking on), and let them respond to that. you don't like bottoming? good, she hates topping! you don't really like penetrative sex on either side? great, they can do oral for hours! haven't topped before but you're willing to try? perfect, he's a power bottom! and if you find your preferences aren't compatible, you can either see if there's other things they're willing to try, or go your separate ways amicably. this sometimes happens with queer sex and it's no one's fault!

he's had phallo and you're not sure how it works? treat it like you would any other dick! if there are things you need to or that he wants you do to differently, he'll tell you. same with meta, it's just a dick that's on the smaller end of average. refer back to "show me how you want me to touch you" if you're still nervous about it.

think they might be getting dysphoric? focus on parts of their body you know they like or that give them good gender feelings. run your hands over his biceps and talk about how sexy his muscles are. run your fingers through her hair and talk about how soft it is. if they seem to be spiraling, turn the attention to you to get them out of their head.

have to stop having sex because the dysphoria got too bad? keep it casual. if they want to talk about it, let them. if they want to let it go, find another activity you can do that feels intimate without the sexual contact. when they seem better, tell them "i'm really glad you were able to tell me earlier that you were feeling uncomfortable. it means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me that." if they seem open to it, have a conversation about what you can do if that happens in the future.

not as sexy, but still very important: if you have a uterus and can get pregnant and your partner has a penis that produces sperm, or vice versa, use a reliable form of birth control! it can suck to talk about that stuff, but it's incredibly important. additionally, use protection against sexually transmitted diseases and infections! get tested regularly, be open and honest with your partner(s), and always pee after sex.

have fun! have weird sex! have vanilla sex! try out some new kinks! celebrate the endless possibilities!

#ask avishai

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sir-subpar · 3 months

Note

Is Fachan trans?

and why did you draw him shirtless in that post?

Yes, he is

Fachnan is an old oc of mine who I've had a lot of ideas for but haven't fully explored as much as I would like.

I thought about reimagining him, and I might still do it, but right now I'm working on a big project with a friend of mine and it's taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, Fachnan is an old bounty hunter/demon character idea I had. Basically he brings human Souls to the underworld in exchange for demonic payment. Whether that be the currency they have in the underworld or for favors, he'll do it.

Because it was meant to be Hell, he targets bad / sinful people. That's his job.

On his battle axe, his weapon of choice, I drew some small details on it. Those details being that he had tiny flags hanging from the edge of it.

The trans flag, asexual flag, and aromantic flag. People noticed.

So, when somebody pointed it out, and mentioned it in my ask box, I drew a picture of him without his shirt on showing his top sergery scars with him saying "Trans Rights"

I admit now that it's not my best drawn art. It's pretty old now, I think I drew it in 2019-2020(ish?) As you can see, not my most experienced or clean work.

I didn't really know how to draw scars back then. It was my first time drawing top surgery scars/marks.

It was pretty early on in my transition, and before I really came out to my family. So I guess he was kind of an experiment for myself? I was trying to find my footing of how I wanted to explore my journey as a trans man. How I wanted to incorporate that into some of my writing.

So I kept thinking of concepts.

I thought about making him a character with a story of change and redemption.

The beginning of his arc, before his character development, showed his lack of faith or empathy in humanity, seeing them as little more than targets, as the only humans he'd interact with normally were people bound for Hell to begin with.

But with time, and help from a guardian angel named Gabel (genderfluid/non-binary) He would become more of a protector of good, rather than a force that perpetuated bad.

Fachnan and Gabel, to me, were going to be a story about finding that middle ground. That complex and nuanced moral grey areas.

However, at the time, I wasn't really sure how to go about it.

So I kind of left that story on the Shelf. Playing around with the characters and designs before fully getting into this philosophical theme.

So, Fachnan became more comedic, as I still enjoyed drawing his character even if I hadn't really finished planning his story yet, and I guess he kind of became this funny symbol of... exaggerated rebellious spirit? This unapologetic trans/aroace man was fun to doodle.

So yeah, while as far as my work goes, he's kind of unpolished and incomplete, he's always going to have a special place in my heart.

...

You know what? I think I finally know what I'm going to do for this pride month!

Time for a redraw!

I've been thinking about reimagining him lately, and I think I have some ideas.

#subpar speaks #fachnan #trans

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blackjackkent · 8 months

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OK, took a long rest before resuming Hector's adventures; a couple of interesting camp developments:

First of all, there was no cutscene, but when we woke up, Jaheira announced, apropos of nothing that I could discern, "Turned to mist. The spawn share in some portion of their master's power."

I'm not sure what to make of this. Was there a cutscene that got bugged out? Or am I supposed to interpret this to mean that Cazador's people were hanging around our camp and got spooked by the sun rising? Perplexing.

Second, I just noticed that Volo hasn't been around since Act 3 started, and apparently he left a note!

LOL. I'm not surprised he finally bailed. All he ever wanted to talk to me about whenever I tried to interact with him was his ocular surgery plan, which Hector was never going to go for. I guess this means we'll run into him again somewhere in the city though.

Third, a brief dialogue option with Jaheira. Hector said, "You mentioned there might be another way to find Minsc," and she answered, "There might be, but... it is not a path I'd tread until we must. Let it wait until the city proper. Perhaps I'll have had a better idea by then."

Apparently my assumption that we were in the city once we got past that first watcher at the gate was incorrect. Sadly this also seems to mean we can't immediately boot finding Minsc to the top of the priority pile since I don't yet know where the entrance to the "city proper" even is yet.

Fourth, a VERY interesting conversation with Astarion:

Hector: "I want to discuss the Astral-Touched Tadpole."

Astarion: "We both know what it is capable of. But I'm not touching it."

Hector, more than a little surprised by this: "Unlike you to be so unwilling to receive a new power..."

Astarion: "That was before I knew the cost. Before I knew it meant transforming into some grotesque beast. I remember how it hurt when I turned into a vampire. My body writhed and warped while I was utterly helpless, the grip of death owned my heart as it beat its last. I-- I don't want to turn into anything else. I can't do that again. I can't watch my body be taken over."

He looked, and sounded, SO incredibly upset, the poor guy. :(

Hector, to be honest, was more than a little relieved because he has considered Astarion the most likely to want to indulge in the illithid powers (and control the elder brain, later) no matter the cost. But he also feels terrible for having gotten him so upset, and of course quickly backed off. "All right, I will speak no more on the matter."

"I had nothing for so long. Nothing. Not even my own body. I will *not* give it up, now it's mine again."

Poor guy. :(

Also had a quick chat with Wyll about Stelmane. He doesn't believe that she was actually willing partners with the Emperor, just that it must have made her an offer she couldn't refuse. He also mentioned having met Stelmane twice; that she was lively and beautiful when he first met her as a boy, but weaker and struggling when he met her later. He said his father explained it as her having suffered a stroke. Hector had enough insight to gauge that Wyll questioned this story somewhat, but not enough persuasion to pursue the discussion any further right now. So we'll tuck that away for later.

Finally, Gale had an exclamation mark over his head. According to the dialogue history screen, he had a whole speech here: "So the devil himself is pursuing the Crown. As for whether it's truly the Crown Karsus forged? Well, I think it's safe to assume we shouldn't take anything Raphael utters at face value. We *must* claim the Crown of Karsus for ourselves, before anyone else does."

Which is a perfectly reasonable bit of dialogue, but the speech glitched out and so all that happened when I clicked on him was that he stared directly at Hector and snapped, "We *must* claim the Crown of Karsus for ourselves, before anyone else does!" without any other context. Which was pretty funny. XD

Anyway, back to city explorations!

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle

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thenoaaah · 7 months

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Hysterectomy as a transmasc

A little over a year ago I got a hysterectomy as a gender affirming surgery and I wanted to take a moment on here to talk about how it has affected me. I really missed that when I was thinking of getting a hysterectomy, so maybe this could help someone.

The topics I describe could be dysphoria inducing, so if you're sensitive to that, don't read this :)

Within the transmasculine community we talk a lot about top surgery and that makes sense. It's a visible change. It's obviously a life changing surgery. Everyone can imagine that, even cis people. When you're pre-op you imagine a life post-op. You think of the things you'll finally be able to do. Things you'll finally be able to wear.

For this reason I was barely nervous for top-surgery. On the day itself I was calm even. I would even call it one of the best days of my life. Yes, the weeks leading up to it I had nerves and even doubt came up a couple times. But that morning... I never felt so sure about something in my life. It happened in 2020, which meant that I wasn't allowed to bring anyone with me. I wasn't allowed visitors. I know my family, especially my mother, had a hard time with that. I feel like I should have been more upset about it too, but was not. It was my day. I saw it as the start of the rest of my life. And it was.

Getting a hysterectomy didn't feel like that. I knew I had to get one. The idea that I was able to get pregnant was giving me a lot of gender dysphoria and I was absolutely terrified of getting pregnant. There was no way I was getting close to getting intimate with someone that could get me pregnant. Menstruation was also a big indicator. However, I hadn't gotten my period since I was about 16/17 years old, since I took orgametril. For reference, I was 21 when I got my hysterectomy. It was hard for me to even imagine getting my period and I honestly barely thought of it as a problem any more. This medicine wasn't something I could take the rest of my life though. It was my mother actually who pointed this out to me and said that a hysterectomy wasn't such a bad idea. She remembered how terrible I felt during my period. Something I had totally forgotten. I started talking to my therapist about it all and she also said that I'd probably benefit from a hysterectomy. In the Netherlands specific psychologists have to approve whether you can have gender affirming medical care. I took time to think about it. It was difficult for me. The hard thing was that I knew it would improve my life. I knew it. But I was terrified. That area of my body is such a sensitive subject. I'm incredibly dysphoric, so having a bunch of people work down there was an awful thought. I had several breakdowns over the fact that I felt the need to put myself, my body, through such things just to be comfortable.

In the end I decided to do it. I was put on a waiting list, just as I was put on a waiting list for top-surgery when I was 19. This wait was so different though. Waiting for top-surgery was full of excitement and watching YouTube videos of other excited transmen and non-binary people. Waiting for a hysterectomy was full of fear and watching YouTube videos of other transmen and non-binary people feeling bad and dysphoric after surgery. There was nothing exiting about the surgery. Top-surgery felt like a specific chapter in my life. Something that was a big part of my journey. The hysterectomy was something I just really wanted to get over with.

The day came and luckily I wasn't that nervous any more. I knew this had to happen.

The recovery was though, but so was that of top-surgery. It was physically more comfortable than recovery from top-surgery since for that you have to wear that awful binder. Recovery from a hysterectomy was more dysphoria inducing. I had to use menstrual pads, which I hate, and I couldn't wear my normal boxer briefs, since the pads wouldn't stay in place. The YouTube videos really helped here. Watching transmen use pads helped a lot, since I saw those people as nothing other than men and seeing men use pads, made me feel less dysphoric about using pads.

Now that I'm a year post-op I can say that getting a hysterectomy was a very good choice and I honestly can't imagine my life without it. I don't cringe when I hear girls talk about their period, cause I will never ever relate to that any more. I don't cringe at pregnancy tropes in books and movies, because I will never ever experience that. I feel so much calmer now. There is a sense of peace. A sense that things are right. They fit.

#transmen #transman #transmasc #hysterctomy #transgender #trangender surgery #trans joy #gender dysphoria

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purkinje-effect · 4 months

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Hewwo!

Are you by chance a trans man/trans masc?

I have an OC who is a trans man, and has had top surgery but hasn't had bottom surgery yet?(idk if they'll ever get it) and I was wondering if that would be considered transphobic?

I have other trans OCs that are vastly different in terms of their bodies, but I don't wanna be accidentally transphobic or anything.

Hi there! Thanks for the DM.

Well, I'm nonbinary, but I will try my best. I welcome any transmascs/transmen to help me out here, and reblog with their own advice and input. Their feedback's going to be more valuable than mine.

I'm also not sure whether you're creating a character for art, stories, RP, etc., so I'm probably giving you a lot of information that might not be pertinent to your character building.

But, you've asked me something that I feel quite passionately about, so this became a bit of an essay.

There are many variations to the trans experience. Not all trans people necessarily pursue every possible gender affirmative care/procedure available to them. Plenty of trans individuals never have bottom surgery. They're no less their gender for their current or desired combination of affirmative care. If they're of a binary gender, not getting certain procedures, treatments, or surgeries still does not make them "less binary." (Likewise, if they're nonbinary, they can pursue strictly binary procedures, and still be nonbinary at the end of the day. And cis people can have any number of such procedures and still be cis. As all this holds true in reality, so goes it double in fiction, esp in sci-fi and fantasy genres where there might be invented races, etc.)

If you're worried about your decision to have the character have this combination of traits, then the focus should be less on their traits and more on any plots you intend to use them in, and on what kind of interactions and scenarios you'd like to put them in. It's not so much about the fact, as it is how it's treated.

For example, I'd be less worried about a transmasc character that hasn't had bottom surgery, and more about the way the narrative they exist in respects and upholds their identity when it comes up. That's not to say characters that interact with them can't ever have misguided or intentionally bigoted perceptions of them--anyone can make mistakes, even with the best intentions. Unless the narrative they belong to is working through themes of prejudice and misunderstanding, then the default presumption of the narrator and/or other characters probably shouldn't be "oh hey, this guy's trans, he must have had bottom surgery" or "this guy isn't trans enough if he hasn't had The Surgery." But, it can be good worldbuilding if world views factor into their experiences and encounters, even if it means that doing so highlights that your trans character might be a minority or outlier, or even outcast. And it can be good development for a recurring character if they learn and grow from making transphobic mistakes, just as much as any mistake. (It can, to exhaust the point, also be fantastic characterization, if such a character instead doubles down on their bigoted mindset, thus underscoring that character's intractable moral compass, principles, and possible "no I'm 2000% right about this" mentality, for the worse. "Bad" characters can be very, very compelling, and provide complex opportunities for antagonists and foils.) Recurring characters don't have to experience growth to be part of your OC's hypothetical support network either.

I think I'd suggest three rules of thumb.

One, every trans person's got their differing comfort levels on how realistic any bigotry is depicted in the media they consume, or just how much the character's transness is core to the narrative. Some trans people just want the comfort of pure, frictionless, positive depictions of transness. Others want to power through rough and unforgiving antagonism and poor decisions in a fictional outlet. And while some might want a character's transness to be the main plot and have everything be about that character's transition journey, others would like a character to just happen to be trans.

Your narrative could place your character in a place that's very welcoming, supportive, and accepting of their identity. The character might have very few people they can be openly trans with. Your narrative might even place them in a position to have no support net. Uplifting, harrowing, or outright tragic, they're all valid narratives.

What I mean to say is, because there are so many different types of transness, and so many different narrative choices to make, even if you go a route that isn't transphobic, you're still likely to encounter trans people in fandom who aren't going to relate with your depiction. And that's okay.

Two, trans characters are more than just their transness. They can be proud of their identity, and it can be core to who they are, but they're always also their personality, taste in music, fashion, and culture. They're also shaped by their ethnic and national backgrounds, possible disabilities, friend circles, community, pets, socioeconomic standing, education, possible romantic history, and hobbies. Just like any other character, your transmasc character is a composite of traits. Even if being trans is a big core component to who your OC is, they still celebrate that identity their own unique way.

And three, though this one may be considered more controversial. Just like any other character, your transmasc character can be a composite of traits, both good and bad. Characters can be as complex and flawed as you want, full stop. Having a trans character make poor decisions, have bad faith opinions, and generally creating problems for themselves or others is perfectly acceptable, even if their transness might factor into the cause for those decisions or actions. As we move away from the Hays Code era, we've seen a 180-flip on LGBT in media where such characters can do no wrong. Yes, it's important to vary the depictions of queer lives. Yes, we need more variation than having no options than harmless unassuming backdrop characters or queer-coded villains. But LGBT people are people, and LGBT characters need to be permitted to embrace the same scope of humanity that cishet characters get to, and that includes what themes and traits we're allowed to explore in fiction. LGBT characters can suffer through internalized transphobia, or struggle with correctly gendering themselves. LGBT characters can be fantastic gay allies, but be extremely biphobic or racist. LGBT characters can be corporate criminals, shoplifters, manipulators, murderers. They can be as skilled or inept at anything as you want. As likeable or unpleasant as you like. LGBT characters can be given opportunities to grow and learn--and they can take those opportunities or refuse them. And they're still human at the end of the day, even if their choices create less than ideal outcomes.

That's the great thing about a character: they can do and be just about anything.

I hope this helps. My inbox is still open, and again, if any transmascs/transmen would like to weigh in on any of this, please do

#there's a good chance i got repetitive or tautological in places. i'm currently fighting through a 2nd bout of covid #character design #character development #lgbt characters #queer characters #transmasc characters #trans characters #replies #anon #anonymous #asks

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gabessquishytum · 1 year

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okay a trans hob concept for you. honestly i think this counts as crack treated seriously because the basic concept here is "top surgery via Endless" but now i'm just emotional about hobstruction so. okay.

so. hob's in his soldering days, he's off fighting in france, and he takes a fatal wound. which would be unpleasant enough already, but a few of his mates definitely saw, so there's no going back to camp, he's going to have to make it back to england on his own. he stops in the first tavern he comes to so he can have a drink and a meal and a bit of a sulk, and promptly hits it off with a red headed giant of a man who says he's also travelling to england so why don't they go together?

obviously they wind up fucking that night and they head off in the morning, they fuck every evening when they stop for the evening, and a few days in hob's comfortable enough with his new friend that he goes on a bit of a rant about his body. because he likes his body! he does! his mam was a tall, strong woman and he was lucky enough to take after her. he's got broad shoulders, strong thighs. he honestly quite likes the way his waist tucks in just a bit, the way his hips are a bit wider than most men's. and sure, he wouldn't mind having a nice proper big cock, but he likes the one he's got, and he likes his cunt.

it's just his chest he doesn't like. because he's got fairly big tits, alright, and christ but they're frustrating to try and keep out of the way, let alone if he wants to actually be able to breathe. he'd happily cut them off, he says, but he doesn't imagine it would be worth it (because the healing would likely kill a normal man, he doesn't say. because he suspects they'd just grow back, he doesn't say).

and destruction of the endless, not yet planning to abandon his realm but spending a great deal of time thinking about inverses and destruction and creation and change, says that. well. if hob's willing to trust him, and he's alright with possibly a lot of pain, he might be able to help with that.

it does hurt. rather a lot. and the results aren't perfect -- his chest isn't quite symmetrical, his nipples aren't quite even -- but hob happily points out (to a fretting destruction) that bodies aren't perfectly symmetrical, destruction's work doesn't look perfect but that makes it look real and hob's so fucking thrilled.

hob's very clearly over the moon for the rest of their trek back to england. there's a literal and metaphorical weight off his chest. and destruction gets to see that... maybe he's onto something, with all his musings about his nature. maybe he really can be something more than destruction, or maybe being destruction doesn't have to be such a bad thing. he's done something right by this one human, and that has to count for something. maybe that can be a start.

-🐈‍⬛

Trans Hob is really something that can be SO personal huh. I'm not kidding when I say this ask picked me up by the scruff of my neck and shook me around like a kitten.

I may have started writing this as a fic (by which I mean I have 1,500 words so far) so I'll share a teeny tiny snippet with you <3

It’s always a risk for Hob to undress, whether he’s bedding a man or a woman. He’s had every reaction he can possibly imagine, from horror to pleasure. He thinks instinctively that his red headed friend won’t be too fussed by the big reveal, and he really isn’t. It’s almost like he already knew.

He doesn’t go straight for Hob’s tits, like most men tend to. His massive hands fall at Hob’s trim waist instead, smoothing over the spread of his hips. Hob keens softly and bites his own lip as his lower belly is so tenderly caressed. He’s wet already and he whimpers openly when a huge thumb and finger find his pulsing cock. He feels big between those digits, much to his surprise and pleasure. His companion hums, pleased and curious. Hob abruptly remembers that he doesn’t know this man’s name.

That's all you get for now ;D thank you for kicking my ass into gear to FINALLY write an actual Hob x Destruction fic <3

#🐈‍⬛ anon #the sandman #hobstruction #hoblethros #hob x destruction #nsft #cw surgery #trans hob

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phoenixradiant · 5 months

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OC Interview Tag

My thanks to @the-ellia-west for the tag! Funnily enough right before I saw this I read a post where someone did these questions I think for their irl selves instead of OCs. I think I'm going to do Cellic and Maiph for this one.

Are you named after anyone?

Cellic: "Yeah. Mother named me and made it a game with Father to figure out who it was after. He never figured it out, so I still don't know."

Maiph: "I mean, there are other Maiphs out there, but I think they thought it just sounded pretty."

Cellic again: "It does."

When was the last time you cried?

Cellic: "That's not really any of your business."

Maiph: "The last time he cried. That's usually how it works. I don't remember who cried first last time, but one of us starts and then the other follows."

Do you have kids?

Cellic: "No."

Maiph: "I mean, Farric and Lettic are basically still children, and I take care of them while Cellic's away, so sort of? But I haven't given birth or anything, though I've delivered several babies. Oh. Hm. I'm the village midwife. Were I to have a child, **cough cough** I don't think there's anyone I'd trust to deliver. Hm. That is unfortunate. I'm going to have to fix that."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Cellic: "I'm not morally against it or anything, but I'm not known for my wit, no."

Maiph: "Me? Sarcasm? Never!" She grins.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Cellic: "Usually what banner they fight under. That's the kind of thing you either notice fast or wish you did."

Maiph: "Whether or not they take care of themselves. Both like, how they dress and smell, but also if they need to be eating better or if they have some kind of disease or if they could benefit from surgery.

What is your eye color?

Cellic: "Blue. Same as Father's, same as Mother's. Sometimes they get red, usually when I've had a bad day."

Maiph: "Sort of a blue-green. My left eye is slightly greener, and my right eye is slightly bluer. Or at least that's what everyone says."

Cellic again: "'Everyone' is right. Trust me, I spend a lot of time looking into your eyes."

Scary movies or happy endings?

Cellic: "Do the scary ones not have happy endings? Farric is the one with opinions on art, but it seems to me like it would be best for a scary movie to have a happy ending."

Maiph: "Happy endings. Ria knows I could use one of those."

Any special talents?

Cellic: "I'm very good at killing people."

Maiph: "He's selling himself short. He's an excellent wrestler, true, but he also runs, animals love him, he can plow a field himself in an hour, roast a boar better than anyone but his Father, he's determined and strong, and-"

Cellic: "She's just trying to get out of saying anything about herself. She's an absolute genius. She has a mind for herbalism like no one I've ever seen, but her mind doesn't get in the way of her heart either. She can read people's expressions in an instant, she's always kind, she's a surgeon's steady hand, and-"

Maiph: "Oh please, I'm nowhere as good at that as you are at-"

Cellic: "She's also excellent at complimenting other people. Herself is sort of a weak spot of hers, though.

Where were you born?

Cellic: "Phanyr. Why?"

Maiph: "Oh, a little house at the top of a little green hill, just across the river from a small town called Phanyr."

Do you have any pets?

Cellic: "No."

Maiph: "Not unless you ask Farric. He says a lot of things that... aren't any of his business."

Cellic: "I'm not even sure how that could be twisted in the way he loves to, but I'm going to throttle him one day."

What sort of sports do you play?

Cellic: "I fight. I run. Running is like fighting with yourself. So, I fight."

Maiph: "I haven't done much in the way of sports since I was, oh, about ten? I had a... bad experience."

Cellic: "My experience was worse. You really should run more. It's fun."

Maiph: "We had the same experience, Cellic."

Cellic: "And I'm fine."

Maiph: "And?"

Cellic: He sighs. "And that's all thanks to you, and not to my stubborn insistence on wounding myself further?"

Maiph: "Exactly!"

How tall are you?

Cellic: "Tall." He shrugs.

Maiph: "Just the right height to kiss a tall person."

What was your favorite subject in school?

Cellic: "Never went to school. Just picked things up from people around me who were smarter. Mostly that means Mother."

Maiph: "I've never been good at it, but I really enjoyed my study of older forms of Daurian glyph art. Is that too specific? I also liked anatomy."

What is your dream job?

Cellic: "I'm a soldier, born and bred."

Maiph: "I love being a healer, but ideally no one would need one of those. Um... I sell magical potions and the like, but that's mostly for the pay. I think I'd enjoy gardening. That sounds nice."

NP tagging: @illarian-rambling, @somethingclevermahogony, @elizaellwrites

#writeblr #writing #cellic thricebrant #kelovir #epic fantasy #fantasy #oc interview #oc tag game

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wrestlingisfake · 5 months

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Rebellion preview

Moose vs. Nic Nemeth - Moose is defending the TNA men's world title; Nemeth's IWGP global title is not on the line.

Since June, Moose has been closely aligned with Brian Myers, and since December Myers has been teaming with Eddie Edwards. On January 13, the three men (along with Eddie's wife Alisha) formally became a faction called The System, and Moose closed the night by winning the world title. On March 8, Myers and Edwards won the men's tag title, further establishing the stable's dominance. So the System wins a lot of championships and takes things super seriously, which unfortunately makes them come across as a dollar-store version of WWE's Bloodline.

Nemeth is on a hot streak coming off the heels of his WWE release. He's wrestled for New Japan, the WWC in Puerto Rico, TNA, GCW, and several different indies--it feels like he's all over the place. He's clearly following the pattern we saw with guys like Cody Rhodes, Jon Moxley, and Matt Cardona when they exited WWE, and so far it's working. But his WWE run as Dolph Ziggler casts a long shadow. Nemeth can't help but acknowledge that he's spent most of his career falling short, and now it's a real challenge to prove he can do better than that. Unfortunately this boils down to whether Moose will stop him from reaching the happy ending of his "story," which comes across as a dollar-store version of Cody Rhodes vs. Roman Reigns.

If you can overlook the similarities to what WWE has been doing, this should be a good match. Of course, the biggest difference between this feud and Reigns-Rhodes is this ain't Wrestlemania, and Moose is not a 1,300-day champion, and Nemeth hasn't been chasing the title for two years. There's not nearly as much pressure to deliver the perfect ending, so Nemeth could destroy Moose, or Moose could be saved with a clusterfuck finish, or any number of other outcomes. This could either be the start of a "Nemeth era" or the first step in a long chase leading to Bound for Glory in October.

That being said, TNA historically doesn't have much patience when it comes to taking their time putting the top title on a refugee from WWE. These days, I think that makes sense--they might as well strike while the iron is hot, and not wait around and risk Nemeth going down with an injury. This one is tough to call, but I'm going with a title change.

Jordynne Grace vs. Steph De Lander - This is for Grace's TNA women's world championship. De Lander used to appear on NXT as Indi Hartwell's friend Persia Pirotta, but for the past year she's been closely tied to Matt Cardona on the indie scene.

Normally the heat with De Lander and Cardona is how they help each other win matches, and under normal circumstances I'd expect Cardona to be all over this one. But real life intervened at the last minute, and Cardona is currently recovering from surgery to repair a tear in his left pectoralis. That alone makes this interesting, because they probably had all sorts of ideas for this match that will have to be rewritten. If De Lander is sticking around I could see her winning the title, but as it stands I'm not even sure if this is a one-and-done. So I think I have to pick Grace to retain.

Josh Alexander vs. Alex Hammerstone - This is a "last man standing" match. Basically anything goes, and the match can't end until one man is off his feet and unable to stand up to answer the referee's ten-count. Technically you can win a match like this by tying the other guy's ankles together, but the idea is that you're supposed to pummel him into unconsciousness.

This is actually the fourth one-on-one match between these two. Their first encounter was on a 2022 indy show in Battle Creek, Michigan, which went to a no-contest. When they met for the first time in TNA, on January 13, 2024, Josh got the win. Hammerstone evened the score on March 8, and now this is the rubber match. I suppose it might be interesting if they both collapse and go to a draw to extend the feud. But I figure Hammersone will get the last laugh tonight.

Mustafa Ali vs. Jake Something - Ali is the defending TNA X division championship. The X division was originally conceived as a way to promote the little flippy guys in TNA without the stigma of actually calling them junior heavyweights or cruiserweights. Occasionally someone remembers that there's no weight limit and has a big mean guy, like Something, go after the belt. Ali doesn't want to face Something (I mean, would you?), so he's been advocating for the implementation of a weight limit--which has happened before, but obviously didn't stick.

I would have Ali steal a victory with some clever shenanigans, maybe involving interference from his entourage of Secret Service goons. Then again, I'm not even sure he's under contract, or if he's sticking around, so it's fair to assume every Ali match in TNA could be his last. I'm picking Ali to retain, but you just never know.

Eddie Edwards & Brian Myers vs. Mike Bailey & Trent Seven - Edwards and Myers are defending the TNA men's tag team title. I don't expect any earth-shattering developments from this one. The match should be fine, but I doubt Edwards and Myers are going to drop the title anytime soon.

Eric Young vs. Frankie Kazarian - This is billed as a "full metal mayhem" match, which is just TNA's equivalent to a "tables, ladders, and chairs" match in WWE. Normally that would mean some prize would be hung above the ring, and the only way to win would be to climb a ladder and get it. But I don't think anything is at stake in this feud, so they'll probably just have a street fight with a bunch of weapons strewn around the ringisde area.

Kazarian turned on Young on January 13. I guess this led Young to revisit his Violent By Design persona from a few years ago, so he can really kick some ass. Listen, it was cool when Mick Foley did the whole "Mankind turns into Cactus Jack for extra power" shtick, but that was 27 years ago! And TNA in particular is full of wrestlers who do that bit all the time, resurrecting gimmicks nobody even remembers! Anyway, I don't really care who wins.

Joe Hendry vs. Rich Swann - Hendry has been feuding with AJ Francis (formerly Top Dolla in WWE), and I guess Swann turned heel to align with Francis for some reason. I don't know if they're saving Hendry vs. Francis for later, or if they just don't have enough confidence in Francis to actually book that match. Seems like Hendry needs somebody to help him in this feud, so my guess is that he'll win, but then get double-teamed, and then some babyface will run in for the save to set up a tag match.

Dani Luna & Jody Threat vs. Jessicka Havok & Rosemary - This is scheduled for the pre-show, and I think you can only watch the pre-show on TNA+. Spitfire (Luna and Threat) are defending the TNA women's tag title. The women's tag division in TNA usually amounts to two teams fighting endlessly until one breaks up or goes away, and then another team forms to repeat the process. So even if Spitfire loses the belts here, they'll probably get plenty of rematches. Personally I'd prefer to see Spitfire retain and build them up to face other teams, but I don't see why they'd start doing that now.

Crazzy Steve vs. Laredo Kid - Steve is defending the TNA digital media title, which I think is supposed to only be defended on the pre-show. I can't believe this belt is still a thing. I guess Steve retains.

Ace Austin & Chris Bey & Leon Slater vs. Trey Miguel & Zachary Wentz & Myron Reed - Another pre-show match. Last I checked, ABC (Austin and Bey) are still in Bullet Club; I keep expecting them to quit or get kicked out, but New Japan seems to have forgotten they're over here. I think Reed used to be one of the Rascalz alongside Trey and Wentz, but I'm too lazy to look it up. I have no idea what Slater has to do with anything. This looks like an excuse to have six flippy guys do cool moves, with no particular plan or purpose. Which is a shame, because I think Austin and Bey can do better. I guess I'll pick their team to win.

#tna #tna wrestling #total nonstop action #rebellion #moose #nic nemeth

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looosey · 5 months

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Lessons from my first relationship: For what it is worth, I forgive you

In my previous post, I had written a lot about how having no boundaries affected me. This post is a follow up to that one: about how I finally drew my boundaries for the first time and how that led to me learning how to really forgive somebody.

One: I'm sorry

"I'm sorry... but also, I don't even know what I'm sorry about anymore."

What is a meaningful apology? I think it's really hard but helpful, if your partner is willing to listen, to be clear about what it is that hurt your feelings. It's a lot of work that you have to do, which you wish your partner would do on your behalf, but doing this work, I discovered some uncomfortable truths about my relationship, as well as some truths about myself...

Initially, I had been secure in my relationship because his initial infatuation with me was strong. However, as we spent more time in the school year, and I could pioneer less fun, exciting experiences for us, he started finding those experiences with his friends who were also working. And that became the source of his fun, and what he looked forward to. Whenever he put me aside, and sought out more and more fun with his friends, without thinking of me, I got more and more sad, and I literally couldn't figure out/verbalize why. I wanted someone who wanted to see me as often as I wanted to see him. The baseline of my life was life at school, such that he was the highlight of my week. The baseline of his life was life with me, such that seeing his friends was the highlight of his week. This is true even recently as he spends lavish weekends with his friends and comes back to reality and me to get back "on top of things."

How do you explain to him thus what it is that he did wrong? I was just hurt, and I couldn't tell him his behavior was morally unjust. Instead, I listed the instances that made me felt... discarded.

An apology was what I needed, I assumed at first. But there is no real apology if he does not understand what he did wrong and why it was wrong. If he says sorry but you think he goes to his friends to seek validation that he was right, that's not a sorry. I took the first sorry I got and tried to run with it, especially because people around me told me to forgive him and just move on. Be loving again. However, I literally lived in fear, because I knew he would take any opportunity to have fun without me, with his friends and a whole lotta girls, whether or not I was doing anything that day. And sure enough, again and again he showed to me that he wasn't really thinking about me and my feelings when he was just having fun.

I did not trust the first apology. I knew he felt bad, and hurt that the relationship was hurting, but I didn't think he took this seriously enough such that his behavior would change. Or that he would do the work of learning/generalizing what he thought was the handful of mistakes to a more general scenario and changing his lifestyle.

Two: These are my boundaries

A recent epiphany. Our first date in August was really cute, but he had hedged a lot, saying he wanted to go slowly. This continued for a couple days, and the day of his surgery? Crazy that he came out to see me that day. We went for a boba in the rain and he told me he was going to see me exclusively but that he still wanted things to go super slowly. I'm not sure what that meant, but I agreed and made a mental note to temper my impatient and intense affection. But as he walked me back to wilg, he asked me for a kiss. Which was so interesting to me, because he had just said a whole lotta "lets take it slow." It was so unexpected so I just gave him a hug, telling him: "this is taking it slow." He found that groundbreaking. I just found it curious back then.

But now I find it kind of trifling. Why do you warn me to back down with my affection, and then ask for what you want in the moment?

What I did back there, I realize, was draw my boundaries correctly. It's an act of self-respect. If this person doesn't want to give fully, it is on YOU to save your energy for when it will be appreciated fully.

It was only recently, this month, that I felt like I regained power in my relationship again, before he left for New York, by explicitly drawing boundaries. And maybe it sounds terrible or crude but it went like this: if you do _____, it's over. There were three of them.

If you go out with other girls or friends on a day that is special to us, it's over.

If you continue to go out drinking with friends and girls every weekend like you do now, it's over.

If you do any of the above and not tell me, especially, it's over.

It's literally sounds threatening, which is why it was so scary to say before, but for me they are protection. They are protection for me to remain in a relationship that I want to be in. Such that I relieve the mental load of what if he does this? Then how do I respond? How do I end things? Now, he knows it'll end when he acts. Thus, he is responsible for the consequences.

I hate telling people what to do. I don't believe in trying to change people. Which is why, I had hesitated again and again to tell him how to feel or act. However, I realize that when people say you can't change people, it isn't a message to not try, it's a message to act within your sphere of control, and then leave when you need to protect yourself.

Three: I forgive you

Drawing my boundaries gave me back my control. It felt like breaking through the surface of a rough ocean to take a deep breath of air again. It gave me back the confidence that he would act in a way within this relationship that would cause me less suffering or I would never have to suffer because of him anymore. And because of that, I could afford to think on his behalf a little. He was just a man, and had the empathy of a man, the foresight of a man, the friends of a man, the adrenaline addiction of a man. That he was a man who wanted to have fun like a young adult, and his girlfriend, a student, felt left behind.

"Forgiveness is an act of generosity. It requires that we place releasing someone else from the prison of their guilt or anguish over our feelings of outrage or anger. By forgiving we clear a path on the way to love. It is a gesture of respect. True forgiveness requires that we understand the negative actions of another." - bell hooks, All About Love

A partner can be an extension of you in the world but they are not you. I know what loving behavior looks like coming from myself and the girls around me, as I am a woman surrounded by other loving women. I expect that behavior, that relentless warmth and attention and softness, to come from the man who is supposed to love me the most, and obviously I'm hurt and disappointed when the gap is great. Not to say he does not put in effort. He used to at least put in consistent effort to see me every day. And cook for me on the weekends. But it's the one off events when he acts in a way that I would never to him even on a normal day, but on a day that I'm the worst: I'm sick and alone. When he says something so hurtful to double down on his point when I'm obviously already hurt and not trying to win an argument.

My mom said that he is not taking me seriously, treats me as a friend "with long hair," and generally does not seem to want a deep relationship with me. LOL. Perhaps that is the case. But perhaps this is just what he understands a deep, loving relationship to be like. And perhaps if he dated a girl who had grown up with brothers, and I dated a guy who had grown up with sisters, neither of us would see any of these problems. But because we are dating each other, maybe these are inevitable problems that come from having grown up the way we did.

Four: And now

I'm a little cautious. I try to live my life fully such that small actions from him do not sway me as much. My life has become much more meaningful and exciting again because I go to career events and connect with different researchers and put more effort into my classes. My mom thinks it's sad that I have to strategize and manage my signs of affection for him, but to be fair it can't be healthy for either of us for me to give and give and give and desire and desire and desire.

Now I know I am but a soft woman. My default subconscious desire must be to morph into one person with my significant other and live in the comfort of constant oxytocin pumping in my veins. That's something I didn't know about myself before him. Whereas when we were in our flirting stage, if he didn't text me back for a while, I would be mainly unbothered because in the end, he was just some dude and I was Me, now, I tend to feel deceived: he said he loved me so why is he acting like he doesn't? It's safe to say, I catch myself having unreasonable expectations for him, and I don't like either of these new tendencies, and am actively looking to find a safe balance.

It's tough because I feel a little jaded when I look at him now, and I really feel in my bones the notion that love is a choice: love is as love does. The naive butterflies that come with the hopes that romantic love will complete me have not returned with the blossoms this spring. But thinking this much about our relationship has also caused me to be better about detecting effort when it does happen, from him, from me, and from friends. And finding ways to put in effort that show him that I love him without feeling like I'm putting my life on the line.

For this amount of personal growth, I am so fortunate to be experiencing this relationship. I feel like I'm growing up late. That perhaps, if I had been less academic as a teen, I would've learned these lessons at the same time as the rest of my peers.

Love is hard, but for what it's worth, I'm still trying. There have been more rigorous proofs, but I hope this blog post will show an active form of love, growth, and the struggle of forgiveness that is foundational to both.

#bell hooks #all about love #modern dating #dating advice

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