#if it wasn't clear enough the 3 of them are trans
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very self indulgent t4t and trans solidarity bingqiu
bonus: happy bingy
#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#bingqiu#shang qinghua#svsss#mxtx#danmei#my art#scum villain#if it wasn't clear enough the 3 of them are trans#sqq just didn't botter he letting the barely existing mantitties free#also no hate to trans ppl that call themselves cis just to fuck w cis people's mind you're epic#but sy himself just has internalized transphobia
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For your experiences with transadrophobia:
Back a few years ago I was being followed by this group of 3 girls after I refused to give them my number. Keep in mind that they don't know I'm trans yet, they think I'm a cis girl at this point. They followed behind me, pestered me about my number, they wouldn't give up but it hadn't escalated to yelling or insults yet. After a little while of this they went back to their car and came out with a different group of girls, one of the girls from the original group (the one who asked for my number in the first place) stayed with this new group, I think now there were 4 of them.
This scared me so terribly that for some ridiculous reason I thought outing myself would make them stop, even though I could tell they were getting close to giving up. I understand now how ridiculously dangerous this was, but for some reason younger me thought that if they knew I was a trans man, they would stop. So know that they knew I was a trans man, I was first greeted with visible disgust before they stopped walking behind me and started running for me.
Without getting to into too this, they commented on the size of my chest repeatedly, told me that "a real man" wouldn't be so scared of them so clearly I'm not a real man, and yelled and screamed some other things at me that I dont remember clear enough to retell in a coherent way, but they would always find away to rope me being a trans man into it. After that I thought they had left me alone for awhile, but what they actually did was take a different road so they could cut me off on the street I was walking on.
Now they were in front of me, blocking me from walking through, when I turned around their car was parked down the road by the sidewalk, so I would have had to walk past it to get away, which I absolutely wasn't doing. One of them ran towards me and raised her hands at me like she was going to hit me- thankfully she didn't. On the same kinda note, the other girls ran and jumped at me like they were gonna kick me- again, thankfully they didn't, but I think all of this was to try and scare me in to turning around and walk towards their car. They only seriously started threatening me after I outed myself. Some how a I got away, I don't really remember how but I did. The walk I was going on should have took 15 minutes max, it turned into about an hour- hour and a half maybe? Because of them.
I understand that all of this is way way on the lighter side of things people have experienced, but it was definitely a horrifying first experience with irl transphobia. The situation makes me so goddamn angry now though, because the only reason I outed myself was because at the time I was surrounded by cis queer women telling me about how easy trans men and mascs have it. About how safe we are from violence. Meanwhile I had older trans men telling me that we don't experience as much hatred, violence and oppression as women (both cis and trans) so that we have to be aware of that and use our privilege to protect those around us.
It makes me angry how I internalized that so much that I put myself in even more danger. It scares me to think about what might have happened had I not gotten a friend there, because they showed no signs of stopping and just got more and more aggressive. I'm really sorry if this is to much, or not relevant! I just thought this might count. Again I'm so sorry if it doesn't.
Thank you for sharing. I'm sorry they did that to you, it sounds like a terrifying experience.
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WIP Wednesday Game
Taken from @kedreeva.
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
file names:
Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit
the one where Clark is trans and Kon is not
transfemme Kon and her Amazon soulmoms
Cassie has a sexuality crisis, Kon has a gender one, and Circe makes everything worse
the one where Kryptonians have omegaverse genders, but nobody told Match
( why yes this week is WIP Wednesday: Sex And Gender Is Weird And Complicated Edition™ )
snippet from "Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit":
Kon slams his bedroom door just shy of hard enough to crack the doorframe, melts the pregnancy test in his hand into slag with his heat vision, and then throws its remnants into his trash can and hides in his bed. Because he’s pregnant. Because he’s an idiot. An idiot who is pregnant. Pregnantly.
Fucking Christ alive, how could he be this fucking stupid?!
Just–Kon has fucked up a whole lot of times in his life. This time is probably the worst time that didn't get somebody else hurt, though. Well, like. Not hurt-hurt.
Somebody is definitely getting hurt here.
Kon kind of just . . . doesn't tell people that he's . . . that he isn't technically . . .
He flirts? A lot? Like, a lot more than he really should. But he flirts with girls a lot. And he is very, very careful about how close he lets those girls get. And he . . . and he . . .
Just–when he actually wants laid, when he really gets the itch, he doesn't go out as Superboy.
There's a reason he never got anywhere with Cassie, after all. Or with Tana or Knockout. Or with . . . anyone he ever actually, like . . . gave an actual fuck about the opinion of or was gonna see again.
He’s not a real guy, after all, so . . . so how could he have? He’s not . . .
When Cadmus was still a thing, he didn't have to worry so much. It wasn't hard to get treatment and whatever, and his files were all very firmly locked down. And when Cadmus went underground, Serling deleted all those files and hooked him up with a little machine that replicates hybrid-appropriate T before she cleared out, because Serling is the fucking best like that and literally the one true ally, as far as Kon's concerned, so . . . yeah. And the replicator has mercifully kept working for him, at least so far, so all he's ever had to do was hide the thing in the back of his closet and make sure the Kents never catch him pulling any of the blue K needles out of their little lead-lined case or injecting himself with said needles. Fuck knows what they'd think if they ever did.
Probably that he was a drug addict or something. That seems like the most logical conclusion for them to jump to. They sure as shit know he's not diabetic or anything like that, so . . . yeah.
They'd definitely think he was a drug addict.
He's sure Clark would, if nothing else.
Although that'd probably be less of a disaster than this, really. At least if he was an addict, he could go to rehab or something. For this . . .
What is he supposed to do about this?
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TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS
First - Prev - Next
Everything hurts.
I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.
I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.
Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.
Gods I love them.
The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.
It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.
Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.
I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".
It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.
I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.
We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.
I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.
Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.
It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.
At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.
At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.
"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.
"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."
"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."
Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.
"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"
Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"
"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."
I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."
"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.
"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"
"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."
"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"
"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."
I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?
"…Teaspoon."
I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"
"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"
I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.
"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.
I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.
"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"
"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."
I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.
Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."
"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."
The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."
"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."
Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"
"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"
Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."
"Okay… But what's IN it?"
"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."
The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.
"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."
"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."
---
Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'
#trans#transgender#transwoman#tiger hrt#therian hrt#furry hrt#animal hrt#trans artist#queer artist#my art
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Defender | König x trans!m!reader
anonymous asked: Hi! This is my first request but I think the prompts "walk the fuck away" and "are you scared of me now" with könig, where someone is being transphobic to trans!m!reader and konig deals with it but is scared he may have frightened reader ending with "the world will never know a man as amazing as you" from reader <3
summary: König loves you, there's no doubt about that, and he will always fight your corner.
tws: transphobia, swearing, some violence (not super graphic)
support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy
König had heard it from the moment that he had stepped onto base; the amount of self righteous, stupid and cruel, cunts spewing bullshit about you as they always did. He despised it, and although he knew that you took care of it yourself more often than not, he was also well aware that not many people stuck up for you, either.
He did, and so did Horangi, but nobody else. Often, you were told to shut up and take it, be glad that they were only joking, stop being so fucking whiny, it's not their fault - he couldn't stand it. He knew you couldn't do anything about it, you had tried a thousand and one times, so he knew he had to step in.
It wasn't hard to find you, looking down at the floor and chewing at the inside of your lip as a group of people surrounded you; König heard everything. The way that they called you a girl, a woman; the way they poked fun at your body and told you that you would never be a real man; it was enough to make anyone sick, the way they spoke such bullshit with such cruelty.
König was light enough on his feet, sneaking up behind you and glaring at them. "Entschuldigung."
The leader of the pack glared at him. "What? Can't you see we're busy here making sure that this... I don't even know what this fucking abomination is, knows it's not welcome to be around us in the changing rooms."
Slowly, König brought himself between them and you, folding his arms across his chest and staring down at the leader of the pack. "How about you pick on someone your own size, hmm? Or are you scared?"
They tried to punch him, to get him out of the way, but he caught their fist, and with little effort, started to squeeze down; they howled, starting to sob as they fell to their knees before him. He squeezed down harder, and they howled louder, begging for him to let go.
"If you wish to say anything to my boyfriend again," he growled, "them you will have to go through me... is that clear?"
"Fuck... you..."
König tutted, letting go of their fist and grabbing them by the hair, nearly tearing it out of the scalp as he grasped the back of their head; he knew he could crush their skull, he had done it before, but he needed a little control - high command wouldn't take kindly to a fellow soldier being murdered on base, after all.
"Apologise to him," König demanded quietly. "Or ich tu dir weh... badly."
They squirmed, begging for mercy that would not come. "Put me down, brute."
"Hmm... nein," he shook his head. "Apologise to the man. Now."
The apologies came out hurried and panicked, but König didn't care, waiting for you to gently tug at his shirt before he let them go at last, huffing. "Walk the fuck away, cunt."
They did as they were told, retreating with their tails between their legs and saying that they would contact high command about the incident, about König's behaviour and your existence; he would have a word with Price in the morning to make sure that the record was straight.
But then you sniffled, and König frowned, suddenly backing away as he held up his hands, showing you his palms as he shook his head. "I'm sorry... are you scared of me now?"
"No," you looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears that threatened to fall quickly and harshly, voice shaky and a bloodied lip. "Just... thank you."
König shook his head, slow and cautious movements as he made his way back over, sinking to his knees in front of you; he gently brought his hand to your face, thumb tracing over the cut on your lip. "Did they do this?"
You nodded.
"I'll kill them," he growled, accidentally smearing your blood on his skin as he clenched his jaw ever so tightly. "I'll kill all of them."
"Don't," you said softly. "They deserve it, but... they'd punish you, and you don't deserve that."
"Did I scare you?"
"Never," you breathed out, pulling his hand from your face so that you could hold it tightly. "I'd never be scared of you... not you."
He hummed quietly, resting his free hand on your knee as he looked up at you like a kicked puppy; if there was anyone on the planet he didn't want to be cruel to, didn't want to hurt or scare away, it was you. He loved you, he looked forward to the day he would stand under the chuppah with you and finally be able to call you his husband; he never wanted to hurt you.
"You don't..." you sighed, shaking your head. "You don't think I'm not a real man, do you?"
"I know you're a real man," König told you. "A few dumm cunts won't change that. Ever. You're a real man, mein Mann, and there's nothing any stupid bastard could say to make me walk away... are you feeling better?"
You nodded. "Thank you... I... I can't thank you enough, Mein Prinz."
König grinned, nodding. "It's my job, isn't it? You stand up for me all the time, mein Bärchen - it's what boyfriends do."
You wanted to agree, pushing yourself down and straddling his waist as you wrapped your arms tightly around him and buried your face against the side of his neck, a final sniffle leaving you. Blocked nose from crying too much yet somehow too little. You adored König at the best of times, you loved him more than you had ever loved another man, and you couldn't deny that any time he came to your aid, you fell in love with him a little bit more.
No one stood up for you, Horangi did when he was around but it was rare, whenever someone came to your defence you were more than thankful for it; but as König held you so closely, rubbing your back softly, you knew that there was no one else like him, and your gratitude wasn't just because he had stood up for you.
"The world will know another man as amazing as you," you muttered. "You know that, don't you?"
"You remind me every day," he said softly. "But... danke... are you hungry?"
You nodded.
"Come on," he coaxed gently. "We'll go to that little café in town. I'll pay."
#mlem writes#könig x y/n#könig x reader#könig x you#könig imagine#cod könig#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig fluff#könig fanfiction#könig mw2#könig modern warfare#König#konig x y/n#konig x reader#konig x you#konig imagine#konig fluff#konig fanfiction#konig fic#cod konig#konig call of duty#konig cod#konig mw2#konig modern warfare#konig#cod x yn#cod x y/n#cod x reader#cod x you
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(queer) jews in my phone i need help/love
this is a long ass post im so sorry lmfao, im putting it in under the cut to save you all but also if people have head space pls read <3
on friday night, i found myself the last of the shabbat guests (who weren't staying the night) at the Rabbi's house. i had asked my housemate to pick me up at 10:30, but everyone else left before 10.
the kids and rabbi's wife had gone to bed, so it was me, the Rabbi, and two older frum guys who stay over shabbat most weeks to be closer to shul.
for some context, earlier in the evening one of these guys had asked another dinner guest (a med student who I'm good friends with, she's a year or two younger than me) whether trans issues came up in her study. the two of us youngins made brief "help me" eye contact and she answered saying that yes, they did cover trans issues given that as a doctor she will, at some point or another, treat trans patients. the subject was changed, but the room was a bit tense.
so: 10pm, i'm sitting at the table, a little tipsy from all the wine, just hanging out until my ride comes.
the rabbi says "hey ella, i have a question for you now that everyone else (by which he means the not-so-frum people) is gone." and i Just Knew what he was about to ask.
i won't go into extreme detail about the actual conversation, but to sum it up: I was asked my opinion on trans folk, i said that i am supportive and do in fact believe trans people about their identities and was Shut All The Way Down. if i cited statistics i was told that actually they'd seen the opposite, if i tried to explain a study i was familiar with, i was told that they didn't think that was true. i actually don't know how i stayed calm, bc my mind and body were telling me that i was Unsafe basically the entire time (thanks anxiety disorder really did me a solid there /s).
eventually 10:30 rolled around and i had a get out of jail free to skip the rest of that fuck awful conversation, and my housemate was very nice to listen to my debriefing. while talking to her i came to the realisation that one of the main factors in the disagreement was that the rabbi didn't actually value the wisdom of any cultures/teachings/histories outside of judaism. if I talked about sistergirls of the torres strait, or māhū of hawai'i, that was dismissed essentially as goyische nonsense.
this whole conversation has been a Fucking Downer for my mental health. i actually broke shabbat (beyond my usual one melacha to be in the clear and sneaky housemate taxi service) that night bc my thoughts were racing too much to sleep without putting on some comfort media.
but beyond the mental health stuff (though probably actually very related) i've found myself really struggling with judaism since friday night. having my rabbi, who has been helping me through conversion, and who i have really valued as a teacher, and the only two other frum people in the community be so overtly transphobic all at once has really taken me for a spin. like, my rabbi is a lubavitcher, i knew that he was going to be fairly conservative about some stuff, but he literally told me that he only uses the correct pronouns for one of our community members as a "personal favour", and essentially told me that she was good evidence against trans acceptance bc nothing she could ever do would ever make her not a man (and you better believe this involved a lot of comments about her appearance)
to put the icing on the cake, when i dropped off his kids today (i nanny for them once a week), he handed me a book that upon research is basically the jk rowling talking point bible. he said to me that it was a really good book for me to read and that it might help fight some of the "mob mentality" (interesting term for scientific consensus but okay)
(also i had actually looked up my own citations from the discussion later and found myself to be very much correct in my recitation of statistics, but you better believe i wasn't petty enough to forward them on)
ANYWAY if anyone is still reading i'm fucking bummed and super anxious about interacting with my community, my conversion, finding the balance between really truly wanting to pursue an orthodox lifestyle and also being queer myself etc etc
i live in a really small jewish community and can't really leave until i finish my degree in 2026, so i can't exactly just find a more accepting rabbi or shul.
anyone have any advice, or just some solidarity for feeling shitty in this space? love u jews in my phone xx
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how many cotl related dreams have you had by now?
Oh my god all my new followers are gonna have to get caught up to speed huh? So if I rotate something in my brain enough, the likelihood of me thinking about it as I'm falling asleep makes my chances of dreaming about it astronomically higher. Most notably, every other month or so I've had like.. a lucid dream where Shamura and I are just vibing in what seems to be their library. (This is why Pura drew me the Shamura profile picture actually.) Results have varied.
I'm just gonna copy and paste directly from my dream log document I have in the notes section of my phone.
-Shamura Lucid dreams. What have we done... Just chatting, talk about fears and shit, gave them a bubble tea (didn't go well), hug (not super comfy but it was nice anyway).. mostly just talk. They suck at jokes. They are literally so sweet and CONSTANTLY DEPRESSED BUT their presence is so comforting I don't know how else to describe it. Such a friend fr. Looked through their library.. I didn't understand anything but it looked cool but also felt like if I looked at anything wrong I'd set myself on fire by accident. Idk. most recently I talked to them about Gender Thoughts™ and just asked them how they knew they were nonbinary and they hit me with a "Well how did you know YOU were nonbinary ::)" motherfucker you are ten steps ahead of me right now. Forget the trans allegory of trying to "crack the egg." They put it in the microwave and tried to fucking explode it.
-Heket was my wife and we went swimming
-Shamura ran a Mexican restaurant, made good nachos
-Abstract dream, saw all five bishops. Just kind of observed stuff from the outside rather than interacting with them but nothing was super clear, other than them reuniting
-dream that lasted like 2 minutes, Shamura with a little Narinder. I think I was like watching an animated short tho, they weren't actually there. (Note: I still want this so bad)
-I was the Lamb and I went crusading and when I was done Leshy gave me a reward. I don't know why. I chose having a new scar (love that getting injured was my reward) and another choice was like .. the bishops had stronger weapons to fight me with?
-Kallamar (I'm pretty sure from @meatcatt's Redo AU. Great I'm dreaming about AUs of friends now.) was in his Gaming Hole™ and I went to say hi but I startled him and he like... Broke his mug or something and the noise woke me up at 4:45 in the morning.
-Choose ur starter pokémon (Bishop). They were all little and lying down on a table. I wasn't able to pick just one so I made some fried rice instead?? Also I was moving into a house with Ryan (note: my younger brother. I'm the first of 4 kids, he's the second of us)
-I was immediately transported back to 6th grade with all the knowledge I have now and started making predictions about the future that were all correct because I had lived it. One of the things I predicted was some sort of apocalypse that involved a red fungus taking over the world. All of the Bishops were responsible for this, and I distinctly remember Kallamar in a spaceship.
-Leshy disintegrated in front of me???? I think I killed him with my mind I'm SO SORRY LESHY
-Saw Shamura on 3 separate occasions on one night. One they were helping me win a competition to win a house but the house was boobytrapped and haunted and I had to get through the boobytraps to win it wait how were they helping me exactly?, second we were farming together I think in that exact house and we had like so many vegetables I couldn't fucking move and third we were selling ice cream together.
-I saw Narinder!!! Finally!! I was in some. Sermon thing. And he was giving a speech about peace for his followers. Idk (oh wait I didn't remember I had dreamt about him before)
-Had a dream that I became Heket's vessel. At the end of the dream, she turned against me and tried to reclaim her crown. I didn't see that one coming, somehow. Also, the fight took place in my parents's bathroom.
#hannah's rambles#cult of the lamb#so basically ive just been like this since august 2022#if this shows you anything abt how much ive thought about this game
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I will give you my firstborn AND all of my bones if you write more in the letters to love universe.
I read all of it and i desperately need more good god its my favorite thing ever and there is never enough soap/roach content out ther oh my god. Literally was giggling and having a blast reading that.
I will take your firstborn and all of your bones. Also I may have gone a little overboard with this but I think its okay lol
Letters To Love (3)
Description: Soap begins courting Roach and the two run into the first of their struggles: cultural differences
Warnings: Fantasy cultural differences, Roach's kingdom is like sexist but in weird ways (quick reminder that Roach is trans! In this AU. While the kingdom is not transphobic, it does mean that Roach was raised on a females education until he came out, which is part of this), implied misogynyand double standards, Roach calls himself a whore (not in a good way), implied nsfw (its really just Roach being hot and bothered nothing explicit)
Pairings: Soap/Roach, Gaz/Jackson/Price
Word Count: 10.3k
Note: Concept is based on "When A Scot Ties the Knot" by Tessa Dare
Roach and his family were dismissed to wait for the royals in another room. The king and queen would be discussing where King Mactavish, Soap as Roach had been calling him in his letters, would be staying during the preparation for their wedding. Wedding. The thought made him feel faint. He wasn't quite sure what had happened or how the king had gotten his letters or why he'd even shown up. Either way, he was here and Roach's fake fiance was now a real fiance who was covering for him for some reason. Needless to say, when his family was dismissed into a side room to wait for them, Roach was the first out of the room.
He arrived at the room first and practically threw himself against one of the tables, practically hyperventilating as he leaned against it for support. This was not good. Not good in the slightest.
His family stormed into the room moments after him and he was quick to push himself up from the table, trying to act unaffected by the sudden arrival of his "fake" fiance. His mother's face was twisted into anger and she was slowly going red, he knew immediately that he was in for some sort of talking to. "Gary Sanderson!" She started in harsh words and Roach winced slightly at her tone, "What have you done?"
Roach shook his head, "I didn't do anything, Mother. Nothing other than what the royals asked me to do, send a letter to my fiance." He took in a deep shaky breath before pushing himself up to stand more confidently, "It isn't my fault that none of you believed me!"
If possible, his mother went redder. "You-" she paused for a moment, gritting her teeth and taking several calming breaths, "Listen to me, Gary. If this is a trick, if I find out that this is something you've put together to try to get out of marrying Prince Makarov?" She stepped closer to him, her demeanor calm but her eyes betraying her rage, "It will not be pleasant for you."
"Can't be more unpleasant than having to marry Makarov," Roach grumbled back. The words earned him a quick glare from her but he was quick to respond, "This isn't a lie. It isn't anything I've done to get out of a marriage. He's my fiance!" It was a blatant lie, but as long as King MacTavish was willing to carry the lie on for him, he'd keep using it. Anything would be better than being forced to marry Makarov. That he knew for certain.
"Gary-" His mother was cut off by the sound of the door to the room opening. His entire family tensed up, only to relax when Jackson nervously stepped into the room rather than the royal family. "Paul," his mother acknowledged, "What are you doing here?"
Jackson shuffled on his feet for several moments, nervously stepping back and forth. Occasionally his eyes would shoot toward Roach before moving away. After several moments of awkward silence he cleared his throat and spoke, "Well, I heard my best friend's fiance finally made his appearance! I thought I might come to meet the man who Roach has spoken so highly of for nearly a year to me."
"A year?" His mother stepped toward Jackson, "You knew that he was engaged?"
"Of course," Jackson's eyes shot to Roach again. "Roach swore me to secrecy though, which is why I never told. I apologize Lady Sanderson."
"Well," Roach's mother pursed her lips and looked around the room, "Did anyone else know?" There was silence from Roach's siblings, both of them looking at the other curiously. "If I find out that one of you did know and said nothing," she glared at Roach's brothers, "I'm cutting you out of the will."
Almost immediately after the words left her mouth and the door to the room opened again, forcing everyone to stand up straighter and pretend that there was no turmoil going on within the Sanderson family. The king and queen stepped into the room first, followed by Makarov. After him stepped King MacTavish, his eyes finding Roach from across the room. He sent a small smile his way and Roach couldn't help but return it, even as he twisted at his fingers with nerves. Following behind King MacTavish were three other men, each also dressed finely with a weapon of varying sorts strapped to them.
The king and queen seemed flustered and, even through the careful mask that he wore, Roach could see the rage on Makarov's face. It caused a sick sort of satisfaction to curl in his chest. The king cleared his throat, turning everyone's attention toward him. "Lord Thomas Sanderson and Lady Caroline Sanderson, might I introduce you to your son's fiance? King John MacTavish of the kingdom of Tèarmann."
King MacTavish was quick to step forward and Roach's parents, ever the good nobles, stooped into a low bow. King MacTavish seemed almost surprised by the move and he stared for a moment before giving a brief bow back, allowing Roach's parents to rise to their full height once again, both of them holding themselves properly. He stepped forward to Roach's parents after a quick moment and held his hand out, "A pleasure to finally meet the both of you."
Roach's mother stared at the offered hand with disdain, but his father was quick to accept the simple handshake. "A pleasure to meet you," The voice of Roach's mother sounded anything other than pleased, but she kept her face neutral as she turned toward Jonathan and Eddie. "Our two eldest sons, Jonathan and Edward Sanderson." King MacTavish was quick to step toward them with a grin, giving a good handshake to them both. Once that was done, he turned and met Roach's eyes. They stared at one another for a long moment, Roach's face going steadily pink the longer that he looked at the bare-chested form of the man in front of him. After a moment, King MacTavish started toward him.
Once they were close enough, the king took his hands into his own again, giving a quick kiss to the back of one, then a kiss to his wrist, similar to what he'd done in the grand hall. He wrapped an arm around his waist again, but this time he turned, leaning back against the table that Roach had been standing by and tucking Roach right against his side. Roach felt hot at the proximity, but he pushed past and even, when he saw the downright murderous look in Makarov's eyes, tucked himself closer to the man.
"We have discussed," The king pursed his lips while watching them, King MacTavish hardly seemed affected by the almost disgusted look he was receiving and, in fact, he seemed to find it amusing, "The King's stay. While it would typically be customary for him to stay with us while remaining in the kingdom, he had decided it best to remain with his army and set up camp on the outskirts of the kingdom. Of course, this will mean a bit of travel for Roach to pay visits to him. Is this satisfactory for you Lord Sanderson?"
Roach's father glanced back at King MacTavish before his eyes glanced over to Roach. They held gazes for a long moment and Roach couldn't read what his father was thinking. He was never able to read what his father was thinking. After a moment he turned back to the king and responded with a simple, "Yes, that is satisfactory."
The king cleared his throat, a tick of annoyance passing his face. It was as though he'd expected Roach's father to side with him. "Of course." He took in another breath before adding, "We've also decided to set the date of the wedding for a month. This will allow Roach and King MacTavish to reacquaint themselves with one another." The implication of his words was that he was hoping they would decide not to marry. Of course, he could not say that out loud.
"Yes," King MacTavish's voice was smooth and he gave a crooked grin before adding, "I would quite like to get started with that. If I may take my beloved for a walk or a ride together, I would be grateful."
"Of course," Roach's father responded calmly, "We will simply have to choose your chaperones."
There was a long pause for a moment as King MacTavish blinked at Roach's father, his face blank. Finally, after several moments, he asked, "Chaperones? What for?"
His mother gave an indignant sputter, her face going red again as she asked in a high-pitched voice, "What for? What do you mean what for? It is to ensure that nothing inappropriate happens before the two of you are married!"
King MacTavish was quiet for another moment, but Roach noted the way that his eyes shot over to one of the men who'd followed him into the room questioningly. He only received a shrug in return. "If we are to be married," he started carefully, his hand on Roach's waist tightening just a bit, "What should it matter if we do something inappropriate together? He is mine in all but title already, isn't he?" Roach could have laughed at the looks of horror that passed around the room. It was almost hysterical the way that his entire family had paled at the words and the way that Makarov's face had gone a bright red. He wished for a moment that Jackson had his sketchbook and could capture the moment in drawing for him.
"That," His mother's voice was high, "Is not how that works. Until you are married Roach does not belong to you and you are not permitted to do anything outside of normal courting rituals!"
King MacTavish looked more than disgruntled by her words, but he was quick to apologize, "I see. My apologies, simple cultural differences I fear." He shared a look with the three men who'd followed him into the room before adding, "Alright, who shall we take as a chaperone?"
"It is custom that there are two," Jackson was quick to fill in for the king, "One from both parties to prevent any sort of deals being made. The one from your party shall watch Roach and the one from Roach's party will watch you." He cleared his throat after a moment before hesitantly adding, "You may choose your own chaperone."
"That's convenient," King MacTavish looked to the three men who'd followed him into the room and called, "Ghost?"
The tallest of the men and the most intimidating with his thick war paint done in the visage of a skull stepped forward. He gave a quick bow, "Gladly, my king."
King MacTavish turned to Roach then, motioning with his hand for him to choose. Before Roach could quickly rattle off one of his brother's names, Makarov had stepped forward to interrupt, "Perhaps I should act as Roach's chaperone." He folded his hands behind his back, his face fixed into a neutral mask, "We are friends and I have only his best interest at heart."
Roach sent a panicked look to Jackson and his friend was quick to step forward, having understood the message loud and clear, "My prince, chaperoning a simple date surely is a waste of your time. You are an important man and it would not be right to take you away from your duties." Jackson stepped forward again, "Roach and I have been friends for years, I would be more than glad to act as his chaperone."
Roach's mother glared at Jackson lightly with the suggestion. Her voice was sharp as she spoke, "I do not know if that is best."
"What would be wrong with it?" Jackson folded his hands behind his back and carefully spoke, "I mean surely you all believe that I have Roach's best interest in heart as well. Surely you would not question my dedication to my friend's propriety and reputation."
There was a long tense pause before Roach's mother hesitantly conceded, "Of course not, Paul."
"Excellent," Roach gave his best polite smile to the group, "then Jackson shall act as my chaperone. As he said," he turned his attention to Makarov's glaring eyes, "I could not think of tearing you away from your duties, my Prince."
Seeing that King MacTavish did not know the way around the castle grounds, where they were expected to take their walk, Roach was the one leading. He knew exactly where he was going to take them. The castle garden was gorgeous, but there was another advantage of the area: the hedge maze. They could go deep enough into the hedge maze, to the center which was a path that Roach knew well, and there would be no one who would be able to listen in on whatever conversation they decided to have. So, Roach knew that he would be taking his "fake" fiance to the hedge maze.
They walked silently beside one another for most of the journey there, their arms interlinked and their forms brushing against one another occasionally. Roach noted that it seemed like the King wanted to speak to him. He opened his mouth several times, his eyes burning into him only for him to snap his mouth shut and direct his gaze back in front of him. It made Roach feel more anxious than he would have liked. There was obviously the big issue that they had to discuss, the one that they both clearly knew. Still, neither of them spoke. Jackson and Ghost, as the King had called him earlier, followed behind them by about ten feet. Neither of them was speaking either.
Finally, Roach guided them into the center of the hedge maze and up onto the large circular pavilion that looked over a fountain. As soon as they were safely on the pavilion and Roach was sure that no one else would find them, he broke away from King MacTavish. He wheeled around immediately, his eyes glaring as he marched toward an already retreating Jackson. "You!"
"Now, now, Roach! Really this isn't so bad there's no need for vio- OW!"
Roach smacked at Jackson's chest, hitting him over and over as his friend tried to defend himself. "You told me the letters wouldn't get sent! You absolute idiot you told me that they would throw them out!"
Jackson finally managed to jump away from him and he held out his hands placatingly, "I thought they would!"
"Well, clearly they didn't!"
A throat cleared behind them, causing them both to tense and turn their attention back to the two men watching them. Both King MacTavish and Ghost seemed amused at his sudden outburst, smiles tugging at their lips as they watched them. "I'm sorry for interrupting," he looked between them, "I can assume this is the friend who told you to send the letters then?"
"Guilty," Jackson gave an awkward wave.
Roach took in a stressed breath before starting toward King MacTavish, "I am so sorry! I just, well they were going to force me to-"
"To marry the prince," King Mactavish gave him a soft smile and a nod, "I remember from your letters." He paused for a moment before holding his hand out to Roach, "I should explain why I've come." Roach hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward to take his hand, allowing himself to be guided back onto the pavilion and to one of the seats. They sat close together and, even once they'd stopped moving, King MacTavish didn't let go of his hand. Instead, he started to rub comforting circles onto the back of it with his thumb. There was a long moment of silence as it seemed like he tried to find the right words. Finally, he started, "When I received your first few letters, you can imagine my confusion. I had no recollection of a fiance, so I was sure that they were meant for someone else. I soon realized what was actually going on and, though I shouldn't have, I continued to receive and read your letters."
"My king-"
"Soap," King MacTavish, Soap, corrected, "You call me Soap. Yes?" The look that he fixed Roach with was so intense. There were several things there: desperation, adoration, hope. Roach's breath was stolen by his gaze alone.
"Yes," he answered breathlessly.
Soap gave him a bright smile at the words and Roach could feel himself heating up just a bit. The man was so handsome when he smiled like that. He was handsome in general, but something about his smile nearly knocked Roach over. "I kept reading your letters and, soon, they became a sort of bright spot in my day. I looked forward to them." He met Roach's gaze nervously, "It might not make sense, but I quickly grew... attached to you through the letters and, well," he took in a deep breath, "The reason why I'm here. The reason why I came when I got your letter, it's because I'm in love with you."
Roach's mouth dropped open just slightly, his face going a bright red as he stared at Soap with wide eyes. He was in love with him? Because of the letters? He'd come...because he was in love with him. "I don't-"
"I'm not going to force you to marry me," Soap spoke quickly, his voice sounding almost weak to Roach's ears. "I wanted to take a chance, though. I wanted to give you a choice. You can find a way to break off your marriage with Makarov permanently with the time I'm buying you, you can marry Makarov, or," he hesitated for a moment, "You can marry me. And, I will admit, selfishly I came to try to make that last one happen. To earn your love as you have earned mine." His free hand moved up to cup Roach's jaw, his thumb stroking just lightly over his cheek. His eyes looked over his face reverently. "If you would give me a chance, I would love the opportunity to do so. To allow you to get to know me." He leaned forward just slightly, his nose brushing against Roach's own.
Roach could feel Soap's breath on his lips and his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. He didn't quite understand how he'd managed to get this man to fall in love with him, especially over the diary-like letters that he'd ranted through. Somehow, though, he had. Somehow he'd made this man fall for him and now he was here, offering him a way out of marrying Makarov. Roach wasn't a fool, Roach knew that there was only one way for him to get out of marrying Makarov and that was to marry someone else. And, though he didn't fully know him yet, something in his quickly beating heart and the warmth that radiated on his skin from Soap's touch told him that Soap was the choice. This man who'd traveled across kingdoms, who'd finished a war, all to come and have even a slight chance to marry him. There was only one answer. "Yes," he spoke quietly, leaning just a smidge closer to Soap. Their lips were practically hovering over each other's as he continued, "I want to know you. I want to know you the way that you know me."
There was nothing that could have stopped their lips from colliding. Something about the other was pulling them in, like fate working to draw them together with tied strings. The kiss was inevitable and with it, Roach was certain that falling was just the same: inevitable.
"Okay, how do I look?"
"Completely frazzled," Jackson answered back honestly, a small grin on his face. The sound of his laughter rang around the room when Roach gave a weak groan and collapsed back onto his bed.
He whined into the fabric of his sheets, feeling completely hopeless. He couldn't find anything to wear and he was starting to get frustrated. He just wanted to make sure that he was dressed nicely for his first real courting day with Soap and yet he couldn't find anything. He'd practically tried on his entire closet, desperate for something nice enough, but not too nice. The problem was that neither he nor Jackson knew what the fuck they were going to be attending. Soap had tried to explain it to him the previous day and, from what he gathered, it was a sort of post-war tradition in Tèarmann.
"When a war is won, we celebrate. There is traditionally a week of feasting and games of strength and skill played. Just a bit of fun. Usually, we would be at home for the games," he'd hesitated for a moment, "But I've told them to go ahead and host them without me there, to show our people that the war is over. So we've decided to host a smaller version for our soldiers who decided to stay behind." He'd pressed a kiss to Roach's wrist and given him a grin, "I want you to come and watch."
"I'm going to make a fool of myself," he groaned into his sheets, embarrassment and frustration eating at him.
"That's not true," Jackson shook his head at him, "I don't even understand why you're so worried about this." He pushed himself up from his seat and started toward the bed. A moment later and Roach felt the mattress dip down underneath him. "MacTavish is already in love with you! And," he playfully nudged Roach's arm, "You two have already kissed, so I don't understand the problem."
Roach went red at the memory of the kiss he'd shared with Soap only two days ago. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing and Roach hadn't felt like he could stop himself when they were so close. Soap was just so...hypnotizing to him. If it hadn't been for Jackson clearing his throat to remind them that they weren't alone, Roach was quite certain he would have lost himself in the smooth slide of lips against his own and the feel of a strong hand cupping his jaw. Despite the kiss, despite Soap confessing that he'd fallen in love with him through his letters, despite all of it, Roach felt unsure. How did Soap know that he was in love with him? If he was in love with him, he could still fall out of love. He could still change his mind. He'd already shown himself to be quick and easy with the kiss that they'd shared, he was more than surprised that Soap was still even interested in him after that.
"I just," he hesitated, pushing himself up from the bed to look at Jackson, "I want him to like me."
"He already loves you," Jackson reminded him softly.
"I know," Roach conceded, "But...that could change." He looked away from his friend and picked at his fingers nervously.
There was no speaking for several moments. Things were quiet and Roach couldn't bring himself to break the silence, not with the confession he'd just made. Finally, after several long moments, Jackson stood, "Alright, listen, I can tell this is bugging you, so let's think this out right? Soap told you that it’s games of strength and skill right? But it's also like a competition." He shrugged his shoulders, "It sounds like a tournament, doesn't it? So just wear what you would wear to a tournament."
Roach hesitated for a moment before looking up at his friend with wide eyes, "You think that will be okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Jackson shrugged, "Besides, if MacTavish wanted you dressed a certain way, he would have told you, right?" He stepped forward and crouched down in front of Roach, "Listen, you aren't going to mess this up. MacTavish adores you and, to be honest, I don't think anything that you do other than murder, maybe, would change that."
Roach felt his lips quirk up at his friend's words. "Thanks, Paul."
Jackson gave him a grin before standing back to his feet, "Alright, c'mon now future King Consort, get dressed! Your lover boy will be here soon." He gave Roach a teasing wink before turning to leave Roach alone to get properly prepared in whatever way he needed to.
Roach took one last moment to check himself over in one of his mirrors. He still felt completely unsure of what he was wearing, but Jackson was right. If Soap wanted him dressed a certain way, he would have told him. He took in one last deep breath before running a hand through his hair one last time and turning to make his way out of his room. He walked carefully down the stairs of his home and down toward the sitting room where he could hear light conversation happening between Soap and his family. He couldn't make out what they were saying, though he assumed that was purposeful considering their conversation cut off as soon as he stepped into the room.
He noticed immediately that Soap had brought someone else with him today. It was one of the men who'd been with him the previous day, but it clearly wasn't Ghost who he'd expected to see. Still, it only threw him off for a second. He could feel eyes on him and, when he finally took a look at Soap, his face went hot. Soap's eyes were wide and his mouth had dropped open just a bit. Roach didn't have to be a genius to see or feel the hunger in his eyes. He had to turn his gaze away quickly, though he was sure his face was still a burning red. He tried to focus his attention on his family.
His mother, despite her clear disdain for Soap, gave him a sweet smile and stepped up to him, taking his hands in her own. "You look lovely, dear." She rubbed her thumbs on the back of his hands, "You remember your rules, yes?"
He nodded to her carefully. Of course he remembered his rules, they'd been banged into his head his entire childhood. His brothers studied history and war and he was taught how to attract a proper suitor for himself. This certainly wasn't the suitor that his parents had in mind, but they couldn't argue that he wasn't proper when he was even a higher status than the man they'd wanted him to marry. "I do," he gave his mother a small bow, "And not to worry, I remember I must stay by Paul during the trip." His mother gave him a slight nod, her smile going a bit sour at the reminder that he was going to the outskirts of the city. It wasn't a far ride, but she was less than happy about the prospect of him spending a day in a "glorified army camp."
"Right," she stepped away from him and turned toward Soap, her hands folded neatly in front of her, "He is yours for the day King MacTavish."
Soap gave her a bright smile, only taking his eyes off of Roach for a second before returning them to observing his form. "Thank you, my lady. You have my word that Roach will be well cared for." Roach could have shivered at the words. Soap stepped forward then, a hand held out for Roach to take. Roach gave him a shy smile before taking his hand and allowing himself to be tucked against Soap's arm as they'd done two days earlier. He allowed himself to be guided out of his house, hearing the sounds of Jackson and the other man Soap had brought following behind them.
He was led outside and toward two waiting horses. When they got close enough, Soap motioned for Roach to step up to the horse so that he could help him up and Roach followed his orders, tingles rushing up his spine as Soap's hands fixed themselves on his waist to help lift him up to the horse. A moment after he settled and Soap was pulling himself up on the horse to settle behind him. They were pressed tight together, with Soap's arms wrapped around him to take hold of the reigns of the horse. Roach could feel the other man's warmth pressed against him and, though he did his best to ignore it, a shiver still pulled down his spine.
Their attention turned quickly toward Jackson and the other man. Jackson had given a small huff of amusement and much to Roach's horror, his friend turned to the other man who'd come with Soap and asked, "Well alright, big boy. What's it gonna be, you gonna ride me from behind like the love birds? Or is it gonna be me at the back?"
The other man seemed at least amused by Jackson's words, a smile quirking up his lips and laughter shaking his shoulders for a moment. Rather than responding, he brought a hand up to his mouth and whistled through his fingers. A moment later and another horse, who had apparently stepped off to graze, was trotting back over. The other man chuckled as he pulled himself onto his horse, "How about neither?"
Jackson grumbled but pulled himself up as well. "Disappointing," Roach heard him mutter. He had to hide his laughter behind his hand and he could feel the rumbling laughter from Soap against his back. Within a few moments, they were off, making their way down the paths that would lead them outside of the city.
The ride was rather calm and, with the steady motion of the horse and Soap's arms wrapped around him, Roach found that it was probably the best ride that he'd taken in his life. It wasn't until Soap's bustling camp was in sight that Roach started to grow nervous. They were now outside of Roach's element and the realm of what he knew. The last thing he wanted to do was make a fool of himself in front of Soap or any of his people. He tried to take several deep breaths to calm his nerves, but it wasn't until Soap whispered against his ear, "Calm down. I promise that there is nothing to be worried about," that he was finally able to begin to relax again. Of course, Soap following those words up with, "You look stunning, by the way," didn't help with anything other than growing the red flush to his skin, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
When they finally stopped somewhere close to the center of the bustling and, honestly, quite lovely-looking camp that Soap's people had set up, they were greeted by the two other men who'd been with Soap the previous day. Ghost and another one who Roach had yet to learn the name of. Soap got down from the horse first before wrapping his arms around Roach's waist to help him down after. The move resulted in the two standing quite close to one another, their chests practically touching as they caught the other's eyes. Roach was the one to look away, unable to hold Soap's gaze for longer than a few moments.
When he stepped away, he was immediately greeted by the man whom he didn't know. He was giving him a bright grin and held his hand out to Roach, "I don't think we got a chance to meet yesterday, I'm Gaz, I'm part of Soap's council."
Roach took his hand gratefully, giving him a small smile in return, "A pleasure to meet you."
The next person to step up was Ghost. "Apologies for never introducing myself yesterday. You can call me Ghost, might I have your name?" He held his hand out for a shake and Roach almost took it before pausing.
He blinked at Ghost suddenly before narrowing his eyes at him. "Apologies," he spoke carefully, "You may not have my name. But I will tell you that I am called Roach." With that, he gently took Ghost's hand in his own to shake, "A pleasure to meet you." Much to his surprise, Ghost met his words with a bright grin.
The man who'd come with Soap didn't offer his hand, he simply called out, "I'm Price, we're happy to have you here Roach."
Jackson stepped off of his horse with a bright grin, "We're doing introductions?" He raised a hand in greeting to the three men, "Paul Jackson, Roach's best friend, chaperone, and the idiot who told him the letters wouldn't get sent." Roach gave a brief huff at the amused chuckle that pulled from Gaz and Price, but even he couldn’t stop the small smile that pulled to his face at his friend's words.
His attention was brought back to Soap when the man stepped up beside him to wrap their arms together again. They shared a small smile with one another, Roach feeling much calmer than he had several minutes ago when they'd arrived. "Come," Soap started guiding him forward, "The games start soon. I'll show you to our seats."
Roach wouldn't say he was bored. He wouldn't say that in the slightest. In fact, he was quite interested in what Soap had described as a "simplified" version of the games that they would play back home for this celebration. The problem wasn't that he was bored, the problem was that he simply had no idea what was happening. So far they'd watched people throw stones, the person who threw theirs the farthest was declared the winner after three attempts. Then they threw bales of hay, and the person who threw theirs the furthest was declared the winner after three attempts. Two games of just throwing things. It was interesting, sort of. He just wondered if all of the games that they were going to watch were people throwing things.
Soap had been checking in on him practically every few minutes, leaning over to his seat to ask if he was hungry or thirsty. Roach could see that he wanted to ask more, he could see it in the way that the man's eyes scanned his face nervously. It was clear that Soap wanted to ask if he was enjoying himself, but he never did. The men were setting up for the next event and the excitement of the crowd was palpable, though Roach couldn't quite understand why. It wasn't until, when the call for any participants to step forward came up, that he understood why.
Soap stood from his seat and stretched upward before turning his gaze to Roach with a small smile, "I'll be participating in most of the games from here on," he stepped toward him and took his hand, "Cheer for me?"
Roach softened under his gaze and gave him a small smile, "I will, please just forgive me if I accidentally cheer while your losing, I'm afraid I still don't fully understand everything." Soap gave a low chuckle at his words before leaning over him to press a kiss against his cheek. With that, he stepped away, leaving Roach a heated mess with a tingle under his skin where Soap had pressed his lips.
He watched as Soap joined the rest of the participants in the next event, receiving many greetings and slaps on the shoulder when he stepped up with the rest of the group. He had to remind himself not to openly ogle the man when Soap reached up to start undoing the ties on his tunic and armor, slowly dropping them into a pile with the other men's tops until he was left bare-chested.
Roach had to admit that he was more than surprised when four men carried in a tall log together and set it on the ground close by where the participants were lined up. "This is one of his best events," Roach turned to see Ghost had taken the seat where Soap previously was. His face was pressed into something neutral, "Though, I think today I imagine all of his events will be his best events."
Roach hesitated for a moment before asking, "What does that mean?"
Ghost turned toward him and a small smile tilted up his lips, "Well, he has someone to impress today, so I imagine he'll try to ensure a top placement."
Those words made Roach squirm in his seat nervously. He knew to expect this, of course he did. It had been one of his first lessons when he was younger, back when a governess still had to smack his hands and back with a stick to keep his posture correct. Men will try to impress you. They want to see if you're easily impressed. They want to see if they could impress you enough to get what they want without marriage. He picked at his fingers at the thought, straightening up in his seat as, one by one, men started to move up to the line, taking turns picking up the large log and running with it before tossing it out ahead of them as far as they could. They only got one chance and, for many of the men, it was quite an impressive show of strength.
"Soap's up," Ghost muttered to him. They both watched as Soap gave a brief stretch before stepping up to the log. Roach had to admit, it was an impressive and tempting sight. Muscles rippled along Soap's arms and back and lifting the log seemed to almost be no trouble to him. He, like the others, ran forward to toss the log. Roach could tell that he'd easily outdone the competition and, for one small moment, he let a smile cross his face. Then he remembered his rules. Never let a man know that he's impressed you. He straightened up in his seat at the thought, picking at his fingers more viciously as he smoothed his face into a neutral mask. Even as Soap turned back to shoot him a bright grin, he only allowed himself to return the sight with a slight smile before turning his gaze away, completely missing the way that Soap seemed to deflate slightly at his lack of reaction.
The next event was tug of war and, though Soap was on a team for this, Roach could easily tell that Soap was doing a great deal of the work for his group. If Roach had thought the sight of Soap lifting the log was something tempting, he was sure that watching Soap doing this event was temptation in essence. His face was twisted into something hard and focused and with every move, Roach could see the full effort of it throughout his body. The way that his arms and legs flexed with nearly every pull had Roach captivated and feeling just a bit too hot under the collar. Even Jackson seemed impressed based on the wide-eyed looks that he was sending Roach and the muttered words, "My fuck up just offered you that on a silver platter. I expect a gift basket." Still, even with this, Roach managed to keep his face schooled into a bit of cool indifference. When he clapped, he made sure to do it for just the appropriate amount of time and that the sound of his hands wasn't as loud as Ghost or Jackson next to him. That was more habit than anything, but he still did it.
Then came javelin throwing. Another event that showed off all of what Soap had to offer and had Roach fighting against his own body to keep himself fixed in a neutral position. Though, possibly the worst of the events for him to remain calm through was clearly the last of them: wrestling.
There were a few events between the javelin throw and wrestling, long enough for Soap to come back over to him and talk for a few moments. Roach could see that the man had a bit of an edge to him that hadn't been there when he'd left, a tenseness to his shoulders and a crease along his forehead that gave away that he was thinking about something. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth to speak he slammed it closed again. By the time he stepped off to join in the queue of participants for wrestling, Roach had felt a blossom of guilt in his chest. Despite the calm and, in his opinion, decent conversation they'd shared for the brief few moments they had, Roach felt as though Soap left more frustrated than he'd arrived and something in the back of his mind told him it was his fault. The thought caused him to bite harshly at his lips before ignoring the sting to bring his thumb up to his mouth so that he could bite at his nails nervously.
He wondered if Soap had seen through his neutral expression. He wondered if he'd given himself away. He wondered if he'd already ruined any affection that the other man had for him. He bit at his thumb harshly at the thought and, when he pulled his finger back, he could see red beginning to flow down his finger where he'd broken skin. He was quick to hide his hand against his clothes. He went back to biting harshly at his lip.
Several different competitors wrestled with one another before Soap got his chance. Slowly they were eliminated, but Roach wasn't interested in them. His eyes kept flickering over to where Soap was preparing himself. They kept tracing bare skin and wondering what it would be like to touch. They kept sketching the lines of Soap's face into his mind. And when he looked away, his mind would plague him with the question of whether he'd already made the man lose interest. All because he couldn't stick to his rules.
The rules were a problem for him though, especially when Soap finally stepped up to wrestle his first opponent. It was a match of strength and strategy and a rather violent one based on the several pairs that had gone before Soap and his opponent. Soap's opponent was a large man, larger than Soap himself by a great deal, and he was littered with war scars. Just the sight of him had Roach feeling nervous for Soap and he couldn't help but lean over to ask Ghost, "Soap's opponent is rather large...I, well, should I worry for him?"
Ghost gave a low chuckle, "I wouldn't." He leaned over conspiratorily to whisper to Roach, "Soap never loses the wrestling event. Never."
The words relaxed Roach by a great deal, but not enough to stop him from wanting to jump to his feet and cheer for Soap as the match actually began. It was a great deal of grappling at first, just each of the men trying to get a grip on the other. Then the real fight began.
Though the other man was bigger, Soap was quicker and smarter with how he used his weight. Within only a few moments he was able to get his arms around the large man's waist and lift him up to tip him back to the ground. From there he moved into a harsh and strict hold around the other man's throat. The other man wasn't willing to go down easily and he struggled hard against Soap, forcing him to fight to maintain his grip. Roach stood to his feet with the rest of the crowd and found himself leaning forward desperately, his eyes wide as he watched Soap fight to keep the other man down. Despite Ghost's words that Soap wouldn't lose, Roach still found himself trying to fight back the desire to jump around and cheer when the match was finally called in Soap's favor.
He barely managed to keep his reaction down to just an excited squeak and, even then, he was forced to hide his mouth with his hand in hopes that Soap wouldn't see the bright grin that he wore. He collapsed back into his seat as he watched Soap get led off of the field with cheers, the other man being led off to a medical check. Despite his attempt to keep his emotions and thoughts in check, it was clear that Ghost had picked up on how impressed he was with Soap. At least if the amused grin that he sent his way was anything to go off of.
The rest of the rounds went much the same for him in the way that he was forced to fight against himself to try to keep his reactions down. With every opponent that Soap pinned, with the more sweat-slicked and mussed that the man became, Roach found it harder and harder to keep from popping up to cheer with the rest of the crowd. He found it harder and harder to keep a grin from splitting across his face. When, at the end of it all, Soap was declared the winner of the event just as Ghost told that he would be, Roach had to grip tight to his seat to keep himself in place rather than joining the numerous people who were running out to congratulate Soap on his victory. He wasn't able to hide his grin though, or the delighted laugh that escaped his throat when Soap was nearly knocked over by an overexcited pat on his shoulder.
"Roach," he was brought back to himself at Ghost's call of his name. He felt panic run through him as he realized that he'd managed to break one of the rules that had been melted into his brain since he was a youth. After all, he'd certainly shown how impressed he was with Soap. "Come with me," Ghost held a hand out to him, "I'll take you to Soap's tent, you can congratulate him on his win there."
Roach was too far lost in his own racing thoughts to even wonder where Jackson had gone off to. Even though his friend was really just a decoy chaperone, he typically would have voiced his opposition to the idea, especially when Roach himself seemed so nervous. But, when he looked over to where his friend had been sitting, he found that Jackson was nowhere to be seen. It meant that he had no help in trying to resist the desire to see Soap. Alone. In his tent. It meant that he allowed himself to be guided through the camp to one of the large tents. Ghost didn't follow him inside, he only gave him a quick grin and a word that Soap would be at the tent soon enough.
Roach felt like a fool when he was finally alone inside the well-furnished tent. He stumbled over to the table in the tent and took a hesitant seat at it, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he did. First, he showed that he was impressed and now he found himself waiting in a tent alone for Soap to arrive. He couldn't imagine what the other man thought of him. He couldn't imagine how much he'd embarrassed himself. He was sure that Ghost would tell Soap of his excited reactions. He was sure that they would laugh over how quickly he'd managed to lose himself in the display of strength. He felt sick at the idea. And now he was waiting for Soap alone in his tent. What had been impressed upon him since he was a child was that this would ruin the way that the other man saw him. Any of that affection and love he had for him would be tainted with the knowledge that he was an easily swayed creature who would be more than willing to find himself alone in a tent with a king. As his governess had often said, all he'd done was tell the other man that he was nothing more than a whore.
He covered his face at the thought, dread building up in his gut. He'd lost his opportunity. He'd lost his opportunity to perhaps have someone so sweet and kind who claimed to truly love him. He was sure of it.
"Roach." His head shot up at the call of his name and he found himself meeting the gaze of Soap, standing still bare-chested and sweaty at the entrance to the tent. Neither of them said anything for several moments, just staring at the other. Roach resisted the urge to trace the lines of Soap's body with his eyes.
The silence pressed on and Roach grew more and more uncomfortable. He couldn't handle the way that Soap was looking at him. His expression was one of disappointment and frustration and Roach was sure that both were aimed at him. He had to try to salvage the moment, he had to try to salvage this. He had to get another chance. He pushed himself up from his seat quickly, "Soap-"
"I apologize," Soap moved further into the tent, passing him in favor of tossing open a chest and pulling out a fresh shirt from inside. He pulled it over his chest, slowly covering himself from Roach's eyes. "I hope that the day was not too terrible for you." Roach nearly reeled back with the words.
"Terrible?"
"Yes," Soap turned to him, his eyebrows furrowed, "I apologize. I thought you might enjoy yourself coming to watch the games, but I see now that it was the wrong choice." He hesitated for a moment before stepping toward Roach with furrowed brows, "I hope though...that you might give me a second chance to impress you. Another chance to, well," he took Roach's hands in his own carefully, "To perhaps try to earn your affection."
Roach could only feel shock running through him. He didn't quite know what to say or to think. He'd assumed that Soap would be upset with him, that Soap would have lost affection for him but, instead, it was like Soap was worried about just the same things that he was. He was worried about the fact that he supposedly hadn't managed to impress Roach that day, but that instead, he'd managed to bore him. It was a complete shock to Roach. He didn't understand how Soap hadn't seen how enraptured he was by the day. How much he had enjoyed himself.
His silence seemed to be the wrong answer because, after a long moment of observing his face, Soap stepped away from him. His eyes were downcast and his voice sounded weak as he spoke, "I will have you taken back home, then. I apologize."
Roach reacted on instinct then, stepping toward Soap quickly to take the man's hands in his own, mirroring the way that Soap had so often made the action toward him, "But I did enjoy myself today!" He spoke quickly, "I have enjoyed myself and I was desperately impressed with you!" He pressed himself closer to Soap.
"But," Soap shook his head for a moment, there was a spark of hope in his eyes, but most of his face was twisted into disbelief, "during the events, you seemed so...bored." He hesitated for a moment, "You do not have to lie to spare my feelings. I am here to prove myself to you, not the other way around."
Those words made Roach wince just slightly and things seemed to snap into place for him. This had to be another one of those moments of cultural differences between them. Something similar to the issue with the chaperones the previous day. Soap wanted to impress Roach, he wanted Roach to see what he had to offer, he wanted to see how much Roach was enjoying himself. And Roach believed that if he allowed himself to appear impressed, if he allowed himself to show how much he was enjoying himself, he believed that Soap would lose interest in him. He was in the mindset that he had to impress Soap. Though Soap had told him he loved him, though Soap had confessed to him, Roach had not allowed himself to fully believe that it was the truth. And now, now Soap thought that he was the one failing.
"It is my fault," he explained quietly, "I thought...I thought that if I showed how impressed I was with you, how much I enjoyed myself, I thought that you would be disgusted with me."
Soap blinked wide at him, horror spreading across his face. He stepped closer to Roach and used one of his hands to tilt Roach's chin up, forcing them to lock eyes. "Why would you believe that?"
Roach could feel his face going hot and he was quick to step away from Soap to begin pacing and picking at his nails again. "I have rules that have been drilled into me since I was a child," he started, his voice shaking with nerves, "Rules on how to act in every situation. Rules on propriety. Rules for maintaining my reputation. Rules for...for courting." He turned back to Soap and began to nervously straighten out his clothes. "I was taught that if I allowed a man to see that he impressed me, that I was enjoying myself with him, it would make him believe that I am not proper for marriage. That I am not worthy of him."
Soap shook his head, "Why would any man not want to see that you are impressed with him? Why would any man not want to see that the person he loves enjoys their time together."
"Because if they do," Roach explained carefully, "They will believe that they do not have to marry the person to get what they want from them."
There was a long pause between the two men. Soap was clearly trying to work out what Roach was implying with his words and Roach waited patiently for him to connect the dots. He saw the exact moment that realization bloomed across Soap's face. "Roach," Soap stepped closer to him, "I do not wish to marry you just to have a chance to be between your legs. You understand that." He took Roach's hands in his own, tugging him closer, "Tell me that you understand what I am saying?"
"I do now," Roach shook his head, "I am so sorry. I did not mean to make you feel like I was bored or unimpressed with you." He paused for a moment before shyly admitting, "I was quite impressed with you today, and," he moved one of his hands to grab nervously at the fabric of Soap's shirt, "I should say congratulations on your wins."
"What Ghost told me," Soap started quietly, his forehead pressed against Roach's, "About you cheering for me? It was true?"
Roach gave a slow nod, "Even while trying not to show any sort of, well, emotions, I am afraid I just got too excited to see you doing so well in the last competition." He shook his head at himself, "Though now I wish that I had stood up and cheered for you the way that I wanted to."
In the next moment, Roach found lips on his again. He relaxed into the kiss almost immediately, his arms moving to wrap around Soap's shoulders to tug him closer. Soap responded by tugging at his hips, pulling their bodies flush to one another and sending a flash of heat down Roach's spine. "I," Soap pressed their lips together again, chuckling into the kiss, "So I impressed you?"
Roach couldn't help but give a small laugh of his own back into the kiss, pulling back just long enough to say, "Very much so," before his lips were captured by Soap once again.
When Roach was, eventually, brought back home from his first courting day with Soap, he didn't think that he'd ever felt happier in his life. He and Soap had spent the rest of the evening pressed into the other's side, grins on their faces as they talked to one another through the feast that came after the games. Jackson had showed up sometime after the feast started, a dopey grin on his face as Gaz and Price followed behind him. Roach hadn't paid much attention to him, too focused on Soap to really think about his friend's disappearance or his sudden reappearance. Soap had held his undivided attention for the rest of their time together and, even on the ride back to his home, the two were chatting with one another smoothly, as though they'd always known the other.
Roach's family had clearly noticed his happiness, though only his brothers had commented on it. His father had only given a small, almost unnoticeable, smile, and his mother's face had been twisted up into a scowl. He didn't pay much mind to them and only stayed in the sitting area for long enough to answer their questions about the day. When he started upstairs, he could hear their whispers following him. He assumed it was about his day with Soap, so he ignored it. He didn't care whether they liked Soap or not. He liked Soap and that was what mattered.
Despite feeling exhaustion pulling at him, he still had a smile on his face when he finally made his way into his room. His chest felt lighter than it had in a year and he was humming lowly to himself, a song that he heard at the feast. It wasn't something that he did often and it, above all, told him just how happy the afternoon away from home had made him. How happy Soap had made him. There was hope burning strongly in his chest and, he felt for the first time in months that things might actually go his way. That the universe finally seemed content to give him a win. To give him an out. He started to undo his top, intent on sleeping the night away.
"You seem happy. I can't help but wonder why?"
It was like ice-cold water was dumped over the top of Roach's head. He turned quickly and stumbled back against his bed, gripping tight to one of the posts for support. Makarov was sitting in one of the chairs in his room, his hands folded in his lap. He was watching Roach closely with his usual smugness. There was something else there though. A thinly veiled rage that had the man's hands folded together just a tad too tightly. A rage that had his shoulders set harshly and his eyes narrowed. It terrified Roach. He tried to push past it. "My prince," he gave a short bow, "I apologize, I did not see you when I came in."
"No," Makarov agreed, "You did not. I imagine it had something to do with your day today. Your courting with King MacTavish." He slowly pushed himself out of his seat. He folded his hands behind his back, the smug smile gone from his face in favor of something harder, "And how did that go for you?"
"Well," Roach nodded to him, "It is a pleasure to get to spend so much time with him. After so long apart."
There was a long pause. "Do you take me for a fool, Roach?"
Roach shook his head quickly, "Of course not, your majesty." His chest felt like it was going to collapse on him. He wanted out of that room. He wanted away from Makarov. he wanted Soap to be there.
"Then," Makarov took a step toward him, "Why do you continue to play this game?" He took several more steps and Roach answered by backing away at the same pace, trying to keep his distance.
"I don't," he stuttered, "I am afraid I don't understand."
"You and I," Makarov's voice was no more than a hiss, "Both know that this relationship with King MacTavish is fabricated. You never met the man before he appeared here." Roach's back hit the wall. Makarov continued toward him. "I am not sure what agreement the two of you have made. I am not sure what you have offered the man." He stopped in front of Roach, their chests practically touching as he caged him against the wall. "It will not deter me." One of his hands reached out to stroke along Roach's cheek and Roach gave a small shudder at the feeling. He felt sick. "I enjoy the chase. It will make it all the sweeter when you are finally mine."
They stood for a moment. Roach didn't dare to move as Makarov continued to stroke his fingers over his cheek almost reverently. Roach couldn't understand what he'd done to make the man so obsessed with him. He couldn't understand why he was so intent on having him. He supposed it didn't really matter. What did matter was that Makarov wanted him. Makarov wanted him and he wasn't willing to give up something that he wanted so easily.
"My prince," Roach dared to speak after a moment, "Might I be left alone? I fear I am exhausted."
Makarov's lips quirked up into a small smile, as though the words somehow amused him. He stayed for another long moment, only stroking along Roach's exposed skin without speaking. It was until his finger had trailed down Roach's neck that he finally stepped back. "Of course," he answered with a small bow, "Rest well, Insect. You will need it." He gave one last quick brush against Roach's chin before stepping away. Roach gave another bow as Makarov left the room, not raising back up until he was sure that he was alone.
The happiness he'd felt earlier was gone. In its place was a building dread. He should have known that Makarov would not give up so easily. He should have known that things would not be so easy for him. Still, even in that moment, even as he collapsed onto his bed with tears pricking at his eyes, there was a bit of hope remaining in his chest. Soap wanted him. He wanted Soap. So long as that didn't change. Makarov could do nothing. What could a prince do to a king? The words were little comfort to him, but they were something. That was all that mattered. That he had something.
#gary roach sanderson#john soap mactavish#soap x roach#soaproach#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#paul jackson#gaz/price/jackson#call of duty fanfic#call of duty#cod#cod fanfic#fantasy au#letters to love
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hii! could you write the nrc staff protecting a younger (like, 13/14) transmasc yuu from an older student who’s being a dick about them being trans? ty if you can, no pressure though!! <3
awww i can't help but imagine reader and Ortho being best friends 😭💞
Guardian! school staff protects transmasc reader from upperclassmen bigots
Characters : Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Ashton,
TW : transphobia towards reader, might be upsetting to some ig
M! reader
Context :
Being the youngest student at the NRC has its perks.
Your first-year classmates were pretty chaotic and nice to be around, even Ace and Sebek weren't that mean when you were there.
But apart from them, everyone else pretty much adopted you on sight. You were everybody's little brother now, i don't make the rules.
But unfortunately there were still people like back at home, people who didn't understand, or rather, that chose not to.
But at least this time you're not alone against them.
Dire Crowley
Your bully and you were immediately sent to his office after Trein heard you two shouting during his lesson.
This asshole had been misgendering you on purpose recently but it was today that he started calling you names.
Your classmates usually glared at him and that was enough to make it stop, today he was feeling a little more confident, and you were pissed as ever.
So, long story short, you got a 16- maybe 17 year old looking down to his hands while he explained his version of the story.
Honestly, it wasn't anything you hadn't heard before. "Oh but i didn't know-" "i promise it wasn't my intention-" "it was just a joke! I'm sure... he got it wrong."
Sure, this idiot thinks he can fool Crowley, your legal guardian, your Crowdad just because he's... well, another idiot.
While he was throwing compliments and praise here and there in hopes of getting out of the situation, you started to doubt wether or not your guardian would actually fall for it.
I mean he's Crowley.
Every time the Acedeuce duo and you fuck up, you only have to tell him how lost you were without his guidance, his imposing and respectable presence- for him to forgive and forget
"Hm, I'm really disappointed right now. How could one of my best students get in trouble because of such an entitled child..."
He said very serious, now looking at you directly.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
And as you were already preparing to explain and justify yourself, as usual, he continued.
"Since when has this rude, overgrown child being doing this to you?- When were you going to tell me?"
The boy sitting beside you started looking more terrified than offended.
Somehow, Crowley's voice... his tone... his face even, half covered- and still
It was so threatening, so scary and sincere
"This isn't just about harassment, young man, or even the fact that you would need this kind of intervention to show the minimum respect for a fellow classmate-
But you also choose to target someone younger than you? what does this say about you? should you even be studying here?"
Crowley was defending you.
The same man that would have made you a janitor the day you got here if it wasn't for Grim. (and child labor)
But after all it seems like he actually cared.
The guy from earlier got detention for interrupting the lesson, and you got away with it since it was him who started it.
This wasn't the first- And maybe and to your dismay- the last time something like this would happen.
But now that you have people that will stand up for you? Maybe you can be ok with staying in this world just a little longer.
Divus Crewel
This actually happened during his lesson.
I don't know how someone would be as stupid as to bully you in front of your literal guardian but here we are.
After explaining the next project, everyone had started chatting, picking a partner and commenting on whether or not they would fail because honestly it didn't look easy
But for some reason, just for a moment the whole class went silent. You know how this happens. alright
And, as clear as day, only one voice was heard.
it was this asshole, telling you to go home since this place wasn't co-ed.
this time though, your friends didn't say anything, as they immediately understood what was going to happen next.
Crewel was staring at both you and that idiot, as he walked over.
"What is exactly the problem then? i don't see any girls here."
"You think I'm gonna listen to a grown man with a full face of makeup?"
seriously this dude had a dead wish .
Detention wasn't going to be enough for Crewel to feel like this asshole got what he deserves.
"We're feeling bold huh? well since you're such a strong, manly guy, you'll have no problem with fixing Ramshackle's kitchen, right?"
before your bully could say anything he continued
"By the way I'm sure Crowley will be very amused to hear that a student has insulted one of the teachers. I wonder what kind of chores he'll give you by punishment."
It's only normal that your guardian is beyond pissed.
and with this kinda stuff he's way meaner than the Crowdad.
Mozus Trein
I won't sugarcoat this okay
He most likely misgenderd you a couple of times before having a very... informative talk with you.
and you know, the typical "You're too young to know!" "What nonsense, why do you dress up like that?" "Come on now, no one is going to kick you out of Night Raven for wearing a skirt!"
But you explained, with all the patience you could conjure, how the whole situation was for you. that you didn't choose to be like this, to feel like this...
That if he was going to be your guardian you would be his son. period.
So, yeah, after a while he gets it. And honestly he never misgenders you again. Not even by "accident" like so many people liked to tell you.
It was an important matter.
You are important.
And then one day during class he hears you and some other student having a fight.
Some dude was treating you like shit just because he thought it would be funny to pick on someone much younger than him ig?
And he was being worse than in front of Crewel, because he thought that your guardian wouldn't care about this kind of stuff.
But oh boy
you know that thing old teachers do with big ass rulers, hitting them against the board to get the class attention ? yeah we'll make it angry and more intimidating.
"May i know what are you two discussing that you are defending with such passion?"
oh but he knew, he just wanted to hear what your classmate had to say.
"Nothing Mr Trein! it's not y/n's fault that ... she's... so wrong about a lot of things"
"Like what, exactly?"
Then the bully proceeded to lie about whatever thing to make it seem like he was trying to help you.
"BULLSHIT!" you finally shout back.
after scolding you for your language, Trein sent the guy straight to the principal's office.
A coward, an asshole and also a liar huh
This was an unfortunate event yes, but seeing the situation from an outside perspective helped this certified grandpa to understand you better, to see how upsetting and belittling this kind of situations could be.
Just try to be patient with him okay? but for sure next time he will be the first to stand up for you and defend you.
Ashton Vargas
It's no surprise that you don't necessarily have the same level as your classmates when it comes to P.E
i mean. they're 16-17
And your much younger...
Maybe riding a broom is something that you can do as well as the rest but you've got huge guys in your class, have you seen Jack and Sebek? i mean 💀
To make it short no one has a problem with it, you have to grow a lot more yet, become stronger, faster
Your self proclaimed coolest dad knew, so no pressure.
But after running out of breath one day, this dude that has never had a word with you acts ... too worried,
Like, you're not gonna die, chill
But he keeps pestering you, calling you weak, fragile, small, stuff like that.
and then he starts misgendering you and saying that you shouldn't be hard on yourself for not being able to keep up with the guys like??????
you tell him off politely, and as he keeps on borderline insulting you, you finally snap.
long story short, things get a bit physical and Ashton has to come over to stop it.
Your friends tell him what actually happened, but since they saw you so angry they wanted to let you fight that guy, you know, for your honor and stuff
(Yes, again, Sebek and Jack's idea and Acedeuce actually being the ones to go tell the teacher.)
Also Epel was just about to join you when Ashton arrived.💀
"So you were picking on someone much younger huh? do you think it's funny? y/n tried to calmly tell you to fuck off. right? how does it feel to have a younger classmate that's twice the man you are?"
Your guardian was so angry, he basically forbid your bully from playing in any team at any point for the rest of the year.
And he actually called his parents after class 😤
#twst x mc#twst x reader#dire crowley#divus crewel#mozus trein#ashton vargas#this one took me forever#twisted wonderland
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[warning: transphobia, specifically from parents. seriously. take care of yourself i mean it.]
hiya dad, it was my 17th birthday today (technically yesterday, since it's past midnight, but i digress). i'm writing in cause it kinda sucked and most of the other adults who i'm out to (and are supportive) are my teachers and i don't really want to bare my heart over school email. i came out as trans (ftm) to my family a skosh over 2 years ago, and my parents still haven't accepted it. they're the sort that think that trans people exist, but *you* (that is, i) can't possibly be one of them. my mom's been trying to use fully neutral language and avoid using any names, which is... technically better than misgendering me, i suppose. my dad told me i was "full of shit" when i came out and has no hesitation about deadnaming me since them. there's lots of very sad specific anecdotes about the various responses they've had to me trying to assert that i'm a guy, but this is gonna be pretty long as is, so just take my word for it. i also came out to my older brother at the same time, and he's been hesitant, but willing to try about it.
all of us were busy during the day today, but we were going to open presents tonight, and my mom made a birthday cake for us to have afterwards. the first half of that went okay, though my dad was fully sullen--this isn't unusual; there's a whole lot else going on with my dad but getting into it would require a laundry list of warnings. anyway, after the presents my mom said that she wanted to consult me about decorating tomorrow's cake (i'm hanging out with some friends and will be having a larger cake due to the number of people). however, this was apparently a subtle way to get me out of earshot of my dad, since my mom wanted to know what i wanted to do about singing "happy birthday," since singing it with my actual name would send my dad "over the edge" (to be clear, this was almost certainly an accurate assessment). the options were to either a) sing happy birthday with 1. my actual name (horrible social repercussions for days if not weeks) 2. my dead name (i don't like being a doormat) or 3. a childhood nickname (which, while theoretically better than option 2, still implies that there's something wrong with my actual name), or to b) skip having cake as a family and not sing.
i chose b, for reasons obvious--my brother was also the only one who was hungry for cake, so it hopefully didn't seem weird. my mom said that it was my choice, but she wanted to sing me happy birthday and would use whichever name i picked, even if she didn't do it with the rest of the family. i agreed to this, and my mom said that she'd tell my older brother where i was (my brother and i are fairly close, and he's in college and usually living on-campus, so i was supportive of this). our conversation had gone on for long enough at that point that my dad and brother were having a full conversation, so i went up to my room to do homework that's due tonight. my brother came up a little later with cake (he says that cutting into a fresh birthday cake that wasn't his felt like thieving, which was sweet--all puns intended--of him), and we had cake before he needed to head back to campus. i started on my assignments, and after a bit my mom came in. i asked if she wanted to sing happy birthday then, and she said that she didn't think she'd be able to get the words out bc she'd be crying too much. rn i think she's on a walk or something.
that's pretty much the whole saga. as i said, i'm hanging out with some of my friends tomorrow, and i'm out to them (and tbh most of them are queer and/or trans) so that should be good, and my mom said that she'll sing the version with my actual name (though she didn't phrase it like that) with them, which will be a first. i'm not physically unsafe, and my parents would be fine if i weren't trans (like, in most regards they're good parents, they're just bad at not being transphobic). but i've also had a really shitty birthday and i didn't even get to be sung happy birthday with my actual name, and i'm really tired of getting hurt.
i'm not exactly sure if i have a question or not. i think most of the decisions i'll really want a second opinion on are gonna start being made when i turn 18 and can medically and legally transition, and right now i'm mostly waiting and trying to take care of myself as best as i can. still, if you have any sage advice i'll certainly take it. anyway, my name's Julian and if you could wish me a happy, albeit belated, birthday i'd really appreciate it.
Oh, kiddo! This sounds really, really tough xxxx
First of all, thank you for having the consideration to add a content warning - I appreciate, it not just for myself but for everyone else on the blog.
I wouldn't usually weigh in on people's personal problems (at least, the ones that aren't about ghosts and ghouls...) because it can be hard to maintain healthy boundaries around this stuff - at the end of the day, I am still a stranger on the internet!
As such, my first piece of dadly advice for you is to talk about this with people who know you and love you and who can support you in a more direct, ongoing way.
That said, of course I can wish you a very, very happy birthday, lovely Julian! I'm sorry the day itself was a bit shit, and I hope your friends can help you celebrate the way you'd like to. I had a pretty remarkably shitty 16th birthday, and can certainly sympathise.
Obviously I can't weigh in on any of the big decisions in your future (taps the 'stranger on the internet' sign again 😅) but I hope it's some reassurance to know that adulthood is on the horizon. As you get older, you'll be better placed to advocate for your own autonomy and to set and maintain the boundaries that make sense to you.
Until then, taking care of yourself is the best thing you can do. It's hard, and it sucks, but you're worth every ounce of love and care you can give yourself. Stick with it, sweet Julian, and here's to a happier year ahead! 💕
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Cabin Chase:: Part 1 .. 11 .. 111
Plans Into Fruition
Zackary leaves the Manor to make his way to the target location, still blissfully unaware of his Boss's plans for when he gets there. Meanwhile, Slenderman is setting his plans to motion, occasionally glancing from his dwindling paperwork to view the cameras watching the driveway.
Warnings: Sex talk, Slenderman, perv behavior mentioned [I think that's it]
Reminders: Zackary is trans, but I have never before written a trans character since I started writing for him, please exscuse any mistakes I make and kindly and politely correct me in comments or an ask, I am trying ;-;
It was amply raining, enough Zack had to turn his wipers on to see through the windshield. The road ahead was long, and he knew it well enough to know hardly anybody drove this stretch at this hour. He had planned ahead, knowing it would be quite a while before he got to his destination, so bought an extra gas can or two for the return trip, and snacks for the road.
He was currently snapping a kit-kat in two, sucking off the chocolate before chewing the wafer. He sighed, stared tiredly ahead at the dark road bordered by thick trees. He was surprised Slenderman didn't quite know the area, it's the kind of place Zack knew he'd like.
Zack was swigging down a bottled water, trying to stimulate himself to keep from falling asleep at the wheel. He figured radio music might help, but after turning it on, he either found static silence, or music he found he'd drowned out. So his own music would suffice, only his phone wasn't getting service, and his songs were buffering every five seconds.
With a heavy, defeated sigh, he stopped trying, opting to just keep his eyes on the road. The low drone of the car wasn't helping, neither the heat. It was currently Autumn, but Zack didn't feel like freezing an ear off to keep himself awake, so he absent-mindedly turned the heat down, and dropped his coat, struggling to unbuckle and even get the thing off while also trying to keep himself in his lane and on the road.
After that cerfuffle, he snapped an energy drink open as a second-to-last resort, taking occasional swigs of the lemon-sweet drink. After a five minute pause of him trying to keep himself awake and stimulated, he suddenly wondered who the hell was living there now?
He knew the place Slenderman sent him to all because his Uncle used to live there, but dipped soon after, claiming the place was haunted and unsafe.
He figured someone dangerous enough. Zack wasn't the last line necessarily, but he quickly found the value Slenderman held him at by what missions he was sent on, and he came to the conclusion that his missions where of the more 'something serious and dangerous is happening, even Ej couldn't handle it.', and usually, the Demon group where the "Oh, shit's bad" missions, so to surpase them in that "ranking", so to speak, was no easy feat.
He soon realized his pondering had passed the time as he noticed the roof of the old place peeking past the treetops, the driveway was now hard to miss, Zack nearly fishtailed trying to turn enough.
.
.
Slenderman glanced up at the sound of a monotone ding, huffing an amused chuckle as he realized Zack was making his up the driveway now.
So, he cleared his desk, adjusting a few of the moniters he had BEN set up. BEN needn't know why, so Slenderman didn't tell him the reasoning behind these.
Through the monitor, he saw Zack slink in, quiet as ever.
He supposes that's something he always like about Zack, his lighter build allowed him to be dexterous and quiet, he'd even snuck up on the Halfling Being a few times, though Slenderman would never admit it.
He waited for Zack to start climbing the stairs, then, he picked up his phone.
.
.
Zack heard the loud ringing of the landline in the hallway. Not where he remembered it being during his visits to his uncle, must mean other people lived here after he left.
Then, the telltale 3-toned ding sounded among the ringing, telling Zack he better not let the caller wait.
With a click, he had the phone up to his ear.
"Yeah, Boss?"
{I see you have arrived..}
"Yeah, is the victim ou-" {[chuckle] You know Zack, being what I am, having the senses I do, I hear things, smell things, you don't.}
"Wh.. What's that got to do with this?"
{Hmp.. You don't think I ever smelled you? Smelled your.. Arousal? That I never heard your pathetic little whimpers when I scorned you?}
Zack was speechless, and Slenderman could only see the tremble of his shoulders through the camera. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying this exchange.
{I know the area, Zack. I know it well enough to know where best to put cameras...}
Zack tensed.
{I saw you drive up, saw you enter the door, climb the stairs...}
Slenderman chuckled again, this one throatier, deeper.
{Do you forget what I can do, Zack? That I can.. Peer into minds? Read thoughts? See imagery one wouldn't want me too?}
Zack flushed, knowing what he was talking about, hoping it wasn't.
{I have seen what you think of, or rather, try to get me not to see.. Don't think I haven't heard you getting off to them either..}
Zack was gripping the phone rather tightly, turning his head to the side.
{You know, Zack... Even now I can hear your quickened heartbeat, and your trembling breathing..}
Zack hovered his arm over his mouth, his breathing getting heavy.
{Silent.. As always when I confront you...}
More silence from Zackary.
{Zack, you really need to pay attention to your windows..}
Zack's eyes widened, and his cheeks grew darker, but Slenderman couldn't see that.
{Hhm, yes, your room may not be on the bottom floor, but it is still certainly visable from the trees...}
Slenderman saw Zack tremble more, bringing his arm to hold his side.
{Do you like skirts and onsies, Zack?}
Zack's breath was quick and trembled, he was sweating, not profusely, and he was redder than a tomato.
{How often do you get those thoughts, Zack? Those thoughts of.. Me?}
Zack swallowed.
{How often do you want it to happen? How often do you want me to bend you over something?}
Slenderman could sed now that Zack's whole body was shaking. He would be appearing there.. Soon.
{How often do you drip at the thought? How often do you touch yourself, wishing it was my hand?}
Zack couldn't stand much more of it.
"B-boss-"
Zack gasped as he was suddenly pushed onto the drawer table, knocking everything else off, and being pinned to it.
The large hand across his back applied just the faintest more pressure as the assailant bent down.
"How often? Hmm? Its a simple question, no?"
Zack whimpered, hiding his face in his arms. His legs were shaking, so much so they were going numb.
He drew in a breath through clenched teeth at the touch of a hot hand on the inside of his thigh, the thumb rubbing circles.
"Answer me, Zack.."
Slenderman's voice waa soft, tender, like he was talking to a lost puppy.
Slenderman nestled his face into the crook of Zack's neck, forcing Zack to move his arm away, to give him more room. Zack whimpered at the feel of the flat to Slenderman's mouth resting on the back of his neck.
Zack shuddered as another hand rubbed up his leg, over the curve of his thigh and ass, and then over his back, drawing up his shirt and sweater.
"A..... A lot.... "
Zack's voice was so small, Slenderman barely heard it.
"Hmm? What was that, Zack?"
"A... A lot.."
The being hummed, kissing the back of Zack's neck tenderly.
"A lot what? Hmm?"
"I.. I thou-think of y... You.. U-um.. Fucking m-me a.. A lot.."
"Ahw.. No need to be so embarrassed Zackary," Slenderman cooed, "besides.. I have a fun night planned.."
The Slenderman gingerly wrapped a hand around Zack's neck, pulling him up enough he stood straight, pulling his body flush with his own.
"Why don't you go upstairs? There is something up in the master bedroom I want you to change into.."
Zack's body locked up, his eyes wide and face red.
He gasped, having to be held up by Slender's arms as he nearly fell, when Slenderman gingerly trailed his tongue up Zack's neck.
"I think it'll be really cute on you Zack, very cute on you..."
Zack shook, breath shaking too.
"You like onsies, right Zack?"
#creepypasta#slenderman#slenderman x oc#slenderman x oc smut#slenderman x zackary#slenderman x male oc#slenderman x male reader#slenderman x male!reader#slenderman x malereader#slenderman x trans oc#slenderman x trans y/n
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So, the other day, I told the first other person I know IRL that I cracked, over a month after it happened, and it was, well, weird.
The reason for it being this person in particular was that I know, damn well, they get it. Hell, they're a massive egg themselves, their words, not mine. So I knew if I was gonna tell anyone, they had to be first.
I didn't wanna outright bring it up to them if I could avoid it, so I started with small hints every now and again, like being a little too careless with keeping my phone close to me while I had an r/egg_irl or r/traaaaaa... post on my feed. They commented on it when they saw egg irl, I told them Im not an egg, they looked at me as if to say "yeaahhh sure about that buddy" and I followed up by saying an egg is someone who hasn't realised it, And I realised a month ago.
Idk if I wasn't clear enough, it was kinda loud in the room, of whether they thought I was joking, but they didn't really react to it at the time.
It wasn't until we went on a walk to get lunch a week or so later, and they kinda got into something a bit personal out of the blue, and it really set the tone of "we dont normally talk about shit but we can do that right now." As it goes, the thing they were talking about could feed kinda well into me being more upfront with what I was trying to say. I repeated the same "Im not an egg" trick I did last time but clearer, and we had a back and forth exchange of
"But In a cis way right?"
"No."
"But in a-"
"No."
"...
...
...But in a-"
"no."
and it kinda seemed to catch them off guard a bit, being so upfront with what I was saying. As I said, they say themself that they're a massive egg, as a joke, ofcourse. But I think they were so suprised by me doing that because they feel the same way but are down so many layers deep in "in a cis way, still cis tho". And it kinda makes me wonder if me being so upfront and honest with myself about it will help them be honest to themself. Either way, I feel like I'm starting to read too much into someone elses emotions and make assumptions based on nothing.
Other than the initial suprise, they didn't really react much and have much else to say, and I really think thats a good outcome? Like, they get my situation, I can't start transitioning for a while, so they understand that I'm not really trans yet, Im just telling them how I feel, and kinda reacted like that was the case. The most they said was when I was talking about how I just kinda gotta manage it for now until I can move out and they said "Fuck it, we ball" and I was just like. Exactly, you get exactly what I mean.
So its weird, because while it feels like a massive deal to me and feels kinda anticlimactic, I dont really want to be treated like its a massive deal yet? Because really, nothing has or will change for a long time, and thats part of the reason I havent come out to more people yet, because its just gonna be awkward to continue like I never said anything afterwards. But this was good.
So, this has been a fairly aimless log just generally talking about my first experience kinda coming out as trans (not my first experience of coming out, plenty of people know Im Ace) so I wanted to write down my thoughts on it. After so many posts like this, it still feels kinda silly, but I guess the whole point of blogs is that theyre kinda like public diaries? idk.
Its also worth noting this was part of one of my 3 goals for this year, to start kinda coming out to people. I doubt Ill tell anyone else, maybe one other person I can trust, but idk. As for the other 2, I really havent made a great deal of progress with planning my transition, but thats fine, its January. As for "100%ing Celeste to the best of my ability?" Kind already done after 40hrs and just over a month of having it. I thought thatd take me alot longer lmfao. So, update to that one, lets say, Strawberry Jam done up to expert lobby? Sure, why not.
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"Close Bonds"
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Part 1 - Part 3
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Alec 'Everest' Amanzi x F!Reader x Aiden 'Vortex' Dunbar
Rookie|Y/N
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Warnings: Unrealistic, Fluff, OCs x Reader, Love Triangle, Bullying, Transphobia (Vortex is Trans)
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You found yourself spending most of your time with Vortex and Everest, only occasionally interacting with the others that were around.
You quickly found that they were best friends, consistently sparring together, eating together and generally just hanging around one another. Today you were seated between them at the table, listening to Vortex ramble about a 'cool spot' he found.
"You have to come and see it!"
Everest hummed contentedly and shook his head.
"Last time I went to see something with you I had to hike for an hour through the woods. I'll pass."
"It's a great view though! You'll come with me later, right?"
It caught you by surprise when his gaze shifted to you instead, bright smile and pretty green eyes twinkling with hope. It made it really hard to say no... Maybe it'd be good to have a little adventure anyways.
"Fine but it better not be too far."
"It won't be and it'll be worth it! I promise!"
He sounded so chipper and sincere- shuffling slightly and Everest chuckled a bit.
"You two have fun. Don't go dragging her around though."
This lead to a bit of laughter from you as well, eyes flicking up to meet Everest's. So calm and gentle to the point it's easy to get lost in them, it's like his warmth could absorb you.
They were so different- one was a powerful whirlwind of energy that drags you out of your shell and bleeds into you with pure life. The other soothes you and allows your mind and everything to simply be at ease.
"Would you like to know how we first met?"
Everest offered a story- one of back when he first was introduced to Vortex.
"It was actually back when we were in highschool. After highschool we were separated for years and then as luck would have it- we both ended up here."
"Small world!"
Vortex chimed in.
-
Splash
Soda coated Everest's torso entirely and he stood there, sticky and dripping while the bullies simply laughed at him.
"The big freak won't even defend himself. What a coward."
His silence was loud- the laughter deafening as he took a step back and tried to simply walk away. Only for one of them to block his path.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Before Everest could respond the bully grabbed the back of his head and grunted in pain, a rock had been thrown at him.
"Fuck off chicken shit."
There stood a drastically short curly haired ginger who was quite filled with rage.
This of course did not set well and that's when the yelling between all of them started.
"You'll never be a guy- you realize that, right?!? You're a fucking freak-"
Before he could finish his sentence he was harshly flung to the ground, Everest standing over him now planting his boot firmly on his chest.
"Enough."
-
For some reason that story explains a lot about their dynamic. Smiling warmly at the two you finished eating and stood up.
"Got stuff to do... I'll see ya around."
"See ya."
"Bye!"
••
Slumping forward with a groan- you've been stressing over everything that needs to be done for hours. It was taking it's toll on your well being.
A soft knock forced you out of your head, dragging your body up from the chair to go answer it.
"Who is it?"
"It's me."
Opening the door slowly you peered up to see Everest, standing there with a mug of coffee in his hand... He got that specifically for you?
"May I come in?"
"Yeah... Of course."
He stepped in and set the mug down for you, eyes drifting to your face and taking in how exhausted you looked.
"You've been at this awhile. Take a break."
"I can't-"
"If you don't you'll burn yourself out. It's okay... Get some rest."
His tone wasn't rough like how most would regard you, yet still it was clear and unmoving. He wasn't going to let this go- he needed you to be alright.
He had noticed that you were over working yourself, taken note of all the little changes in your behavior.
And he's not just going to stand by while you burn your candle at both ends.
"Okay..."
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{Hope y'all love them as much as I do. You guys are in a love triangle with best friends oops. LMAO}
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{@sofasoap @deadbranch @a-world-with0ut-dr34ms @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @scar-crossedlvrs @blingblong55 }
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{More Content}
#cod ocs#cod oc#cod ocs x reader#vee's cod works#vee's oc works#alec 'everest' amanzi#aiden 'vortex' dunbar
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Hey um, if its not too much trouble (I get sometimes a character is trans and that's not the big part of his story) would you mind talking about that for Ballard?
I'm trans and its been really nice seeing all the trans Tavs/Durges. Ballard is my fav. :3
hi anon it is not too much trouble at ALL, I have a lot of thoughts about trans characters in fantasy in general and Ballard in specific because I am incapable of being chill even for a moment. THANK YOU for asking and for saying he's a fav <3 <3 <3
Quick disclaimer: Like. A trans character (either hc or oc or canon) is never gonna be something I don't love; I remember when this just wasn't something you saw in fandom spaces at all, let along in actual media. I remember reading Khaos Komix in 07 or 08 and getting to Tom's story and feeling so strange and overwhelmed in a way I genuinely did not understand for another decade, bc I didn't even know it was an option, let alone one that I was identifying with--and I didn't encounter it again for fucking ages! But we're here now!! That's exciting!! That being said: I don't really get a ton out of settings where it's normalized and perfectly accepted and easily obtainable, the kind of toothless fantasy escapism that just tacks it on like it changes nothing about that character's childhood or adolescence or relationships or ability to connect with others. I'm not saying every setting has to be violently transphobic (although there is a kind of validation to that kind of story!), but the opposition to/hostility to/ignorance about transness is such an integral part of my experiences that I don't connect without those elements. So all of my trans characters (which is most of them, at this point) are very deliberate in how I conceptualize their gender and how it affects their story.
So to Ballard specifically! Backstory dump et all below the cut, this turned out.... rly long. I'm doing an ask game as well, feel free to send some questions in :3
Ballard grew up in Menzobarrenzen, fostered into House Halvyriin after the Matron received a dream from Bhaal about the baby he made and just kind of dumped on the side of the road (thanks dad). Drow society is matriarchal, and he was raised as female with the intention of taking a leadership role in the House and in Menzobarrenzen in general--his education consisted entirely of martial skills, diplomacy and communication, oration, discernment, etc. He wasn't permitted to learn any of the arts, or to really associate at all with anything 'frivolous'. Getting a beautifully crafted knife and just wishing for it to have been a necklace, or a doll, or a lovely tunic. I think he understood even at the time that this wasn't even a standard all girls had to meet, or even all presumed-heirs, but because of his nature he had to be the best weapon possible, without weakness or flaw. They do not hide it from him that he's Bhaalspawn, and in fact make it very clear that he was a gift to them from Bhaal and he has a grand purpose to achieve, but in the House and in the world outside.
His training was accelerated, and very intense, because the first time the Dark Urge came for him he was six years old and took out a a dozen or so people in the House before anyone thought to be prepared for a two foot tall murder machine--mostly servants or slaves, so the Matron was able to take it in stride easily enough, but after that he was very closely monitored and controlled, and severely emotionally repressed. This is the first time Sceleritas Fel showed up, after the bloodbath when Ballard was alone again. He offers some amount of advice and comfort, and indicates he knows much that Ballard does not: "You are ahead of schedule, my lady--no, that's not right at all, is it? Worry not, my lord, and know that your father has a plan for you. You must focus on your lessons, for now, and we will meet again in time."
(I think if you have a demonic butler who can die and be resurrected with zero difficulty or complication he SHOULD have some weird timeline powers, imo. Love Sceleritas as comedic relief, but also as the first and only genuine care even approaching parental feelings that Ballard ever had.)
He's six, so he fuckin forgets, and the urge is quieted enough that it doesn't trouble him for another ten years; so he very dutifully allows himself to be pruned and shaped into a perfect female heir and a perfect tool. At 16 he has his first period, and that, combined with the effects of puberty he is already having, drives him into a rage he cannot define the source of. He is in the process of destroying his room to the stonework when Sceleritas comes back--he only doesn't immediately kill him because he's so surprised to see this person he had assumed was a figment of his childhood imagination. They go through this whole exchange of 'my lord', 'why are you calling me that', 'I'm not wrong, even if you don't see it yet', 'well I don't have time to deal with this right now do I so (chucks it back in the vault)'. And then Ballard only interacts with the concept of his gender very intermittently and with both hands over his eyes for the next twenty years. Sceleritas is very firm in only calling him 'my lord' and 'young master' as he teaches him knives, poisons, etc but he simply does not address him in mixed company, which is not very often. Everyone else finds him deeply disturbing.
Only two other people ever know, while he still lives in the underdark. The first is Imton, a follower of Loviatar who is brought in as one of Ballard's many tutors to teach him a) 'to teach him stoicism in the face of pain' and b) to teach him how to apply violence and brutality without killing. (He is based on every fat drag queen I have ever fallen briefly in love with from the audience seating--super pretty, gorgeous, draping clothing, tons of jewelry--very sparkly shiny). Imton is known as 'the Jeweled Whip of Menzobarrenzen'--he is a very highly regarded sex worker, as much as anything else, and he ends up being Ballard's first lover. He has a lot of feelings about his first time, since Imton was still teaching as much as he was fucking and Ballard was somewhat infatuated with him, but he has such a bad physical reaction of disgust and shame afterward.
That's the final nail in the coffin for 'ah, I cannot keep ignoring this, can I' and he ends up having a bit of a breakdown trying to explain it to Imton without having any of the necessary vocabulary. Imton, being a worldly and reasonable guy who interacts with people who are not just Lolth and Bhaal worshipers, is like 'Ah! Ok. I can work with that. Let's get you some information.'
(Imton gave Ballard his dagger earrings he wears most every day and is also who the Emperor sniped it's dream guardian look from, fun little facts that don't make me upset at all.)
The second person to know is the Matron Halvyriin, and it is not until the second time Ballard tries to challenge her when he is 36. (A 'challenge' being my way of reconciling WotC 'elves reach social maturity at 100' with the actual timeline in BG: drow are expected to mature faster, and can prove their growth by besting their head of house in combat in order to be treated as full adults). His first, a decade prior, he failed; it's not expected that this time he will succeed either, as most don't until their 50s. He does manage to beat the Matron, however, to everyone's surprise including his own. She expresses the first pride she ever has in him, and says he will be the best Matron the House will have seen in generations when he takes the position from her.
Ballard confesses that he cannot be the Matron, and reveals himself to be a man to her, and it all goes to shit very rapidly after that.
He explains to Gortash later than any other Matron would most likely have killed him for that, and that she would have, too, if she had not loved Bhaal more than Lolth. She tried instead to banish and disown him. "Her mercy was her own ending," he says. He killed her and most of her guard and then everyone between him and the exit, and he burned House Halvyriin behind him when he fled. Later he finds out hardly anyone survived, and the house itself is no more--he still uses the house name so other drow are occasionally surprised to find some far-flung male of the lost House Halvyriin.
Sceleritas guides him to Baldurs Gate, when he leaves the underdark, and he's able to use some of the information Imton gave him to pursue transition. I imagine that HRT isn't too difficult to find, given alchemy being so easily accessible, but it is a bit more specialized so not every shop will be able to help. Part of me wants to say Sceleritas helped with top surgery but we have seen his surgical skills and I do not think that wise! It's reasonably straightforward at this point, except that the combination of the dark urge, a lifetime of repressed emotions suddenly given the opportunity to express themselves, and the hormonal volatility of second puberty means that for a year or so Ballard has a really hard time maintaining control of the Urge, and does a couple of really badly managed murder sprees he doesn't remember well.
This is before he's able to take control of or clean up the remnants of the Bhaalist cult in Baldur's Gate, so he ends up commandeering like a single dingy cell in the temple to lock himself in werewolf-style whenever he takes the potion equivalent of his shot every couple of weeks. Once his body got used to the new hormones it settled down! And, freed from the expectations of the rigid society he grew up in, he experiments more with pretty things. Earrings, necklaces, costume jewelry just as much as actual gold or silver, beautiful and embroidered and sheer fabrics, growing his hair out, wearing makeup etc. He likes to be pretty. He doesn't let it impact his mobility or access to weaponry, and he has to be fairly practical about things getting ruined by blood, but he's never without some simply jewelry or makeup prior to the tadpole.
I imagine that trans people aren't common in Faerun, but they aren't super unusual either. Most of Ballard's lovers have been surprised to find that he doesn't have the equipment they expected, but are reasonably willing to adapt to the situation. Bottom surgery isn't something he is interested in, but there are certainly some options available for both sides of the fence, both in terms of actual surgery and in terms of augmentative devices.
After the tadpole, when Ballard doesn't remember anything, he doesn't even think to wonder about his body or top surgery scars--it registers as normal. If prompted he is able to retrieve the information, but it's also very funny to imagine the first encounter he has with Astarion has a brief moment of 'what is THAT' (local man has forgotten about penises).
This is such a ramble and I'm sure I will remember things I meant to include later, but yeah! There are soooo many trans tavs and durges and they have been nothing but a delight to see, I love them all and I love hearing everyone's interpretations.
#ask meme#bg3#baldurs gate 3#the dark urge#durge#my durge#Ballard#Ballard gets my transgay hypersexual trauma response bc: it is funny#trans character#trans hc
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Deadly Inferno {A Patrick Hockstetter Fic}
Part 3 - Spark Of A Rebel
Word Count: 1673
"You'll be dead if you don't come home tonight!" Henry yelled after me once we had gotten home from school, watching me stalk off away from the trans am once it had come to a halt in our driveway. I had practically trampled Patrick trying to quickly get out. I was furious. Beyond furious. I kept going and going until I reached my usual hiding spot between our property and the Hanlen's property line, knowing I would be safe there. A clearing in the woods that was always so peaceful to me, away from Henry and my dad, away from all the gossiping dicks in this town that thought they had me all figured out. And I just lost it, I screamed into the deep abyss of trees surrounding me until I couldn't scream anymore.
"Les....?" I jumped a little once Bev showed next to me, seeing the pure anger on my face. She knew it was Henry. It usually was anymore. He'd grown worse in recent months and I felt like I didn't really have a brother anymore. All he did was torture kids around town and treat me like utter shit for trying to stick up for them. And heaven forbid if I was remotely close to Patrick. That was a no go. And I was frankly sick of being threatened about it. My dad once told me if he found out I was sleeping with that Hockstetter prick that he'd beat me within an inch of my life. I had never slept with anyone. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in Patrick. You know when I said I wasn't worried about a dick being inside me at any given time? I may have been misleading myself.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to freak. I just uh... needed that I guess." She simply handed me a new pack of cigarettes with a little smile of understanding on her face, not saying a word. And that was enough for me. We sat against our usual tree and lit our cigs up into the brisk summer air, smoke lingering around us. I kept flicking the zippo open and close that had a flame design on it that Patrick was of course attracted to himself. But he told me he thought of me the minute he saw it. A flame. He knew I had one in me. And eventually, it would explode.
"Ya know, I think you should go for it. With Patrick. I mean yeah, I don't want you to end up dead. But he's different with you. Fuck Henry. Don't let him hold you back." Just as she finished her sentence, Vic and the man himself came bounding down towards us, seeing Patrick clearly heard every single word. They'd been listening. And I was dying of embarrassment. Yay.
"Yeah Leslie, don't let him hold you back from all this looney goodness." I couldn't help but laugh once Patrick sat down next to me with his arm as usual, snaking around my waist, suddenly licking my cheek in his usual attempt at getting on my nerves when he knew I would simply shove him away. But this time, I didn't, surprising him more and more. I wiped my cheek clean of spit, but did something that surprised Vic and Bev. Something they never expected of me, considering usually I'm threatened, and verbally and physically abused if I ever even attempted such an act. I climbed right onto Patrick's lap before I could change my mind, his hands coming to rest firmly on my waist once I managed to wrap my legs fully around him. He looked surprised himself, but just hid behind his usual wicked smirk. He was beyond enjoying this. He was entertained.
"I guess we should kick this summer off with a bang, huh Hockstetter?" I kissed him, I just fucking kissed him and I didn't care. I didn't care that Vic and Bev were watching. I lost myself in the sensations I felt from the mere touch of his lips against mine. His hands only tightened on my waist, seemingly pulling me closer to him. And his usual hard-on was growing and growing with each passing second.
"I knew it would happen. I fucking knew it!" I smiled into the heated kiss before we slowly pulled apart from Vic's words, seeing the way Patrick was looking at me. Like I was something he wanted to devour. He wasn't done with me. Not by a long shot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I practically ran home with Vic in tow, Patrick having fled to his house before anyone ever saw him. Although knowing Patrick, he wouldn't care one way or the other. He loved trouble. Especially if it involved me. He had whispered in my ear once Bev and Vic were out of hearing distance all the things he planned with me. He wasn't about love. He was about pain. About torture. About lust. So lustful. I was drawn in. And there was no way I was escaping now.
"Go through the back door Les. Your dad is pulling up." My eyes widened from Vic's words before hugging him tightly, running my way to and through the back door in such a hurry. My life depended on it. I practically threw the fridge door open, pulling out everything I needed for spaghetti, exactly what he requested the night before. Pfft. Of course I'm the maid and cook around here. That became my job once mom left. Dad put so much on me because I look just like her. And he resents me for it.
"There better not be any those boys in this house Henry!" He yelled up the stairs in the direction of Henry's room, knowing his door was firmly shut as usual, doing what I could only imagine up there. I just distracted myself with dinner, not wanting his wrath tonight. He didn't need to know anything I had done tonight. Or Henry. I would be deader than dead.
"Hey sweetheart." Dad kissed my cheek in such a gentle way that it threw me off. He was acting like he usually does when he drinks before coming home. And it was terrifying. That meant once it wore off, it would be deadly for Henry and I.
"Hey dad. Dinner's close to being done. I had homework to do before I started." He simply nodded before kicking his shoes off by the back door and grabbing a beer from the fridge that was always stocked with them. Usually he made me get the beers for him at the store, the usual cashier flirting with me too much to even ask for my age. He knew. He just didn't care.
"How was my little girl today?" Dad smiled, an eery smile at me as if he was hiding something he knew, yet was trying to really amp me up. He saw Patrick and I at school today, so close to one another that I could practically feel his touch. Just then, Henry came bounding into the kitchen with a shit eating grin on his face. But not just for any reason. It was because of the person behind him.
"Hey dad. Patrick's mom said he could spend the night. Figured it would be alright. Vic and Belch will be here later." Henry was usually so good at getting what he wants. He didn't look like mom. So he got away with more. Me on the other hand, I reminded him too much of her. So I got the brunt of everything. Of course, dad didn't mind if the guys were here as long as he was and I was in his line of sight. Except for bed time of course. The hell if my dad was going to watch me sleep. Gross.
"You better keep them in check. Got me?" He glared daggers at Henry, only earning a subtle nod. Patrick was now eyeing me once dad had walked into the living room with the door slamming behind him, like he could pounce on me right here and now. He wasn't afraid of doing something to me in front of people. That's just who Patrick Hockstetter is. No wonder Henry looked at me the way he did. He wants me to get caught. He wants me to get punished. He's still pissed at me. Asshole. I ignored them and turned to get the food ready, not in the mood.
"When's Vic coming back?" No response from Henry. I just shook my head and got the food all ready, just as I was grabbed by my sides and whirled around so fast my head started to spin. Patrick pinned me against the hot stove, the burner still on at full heat. Henry had disappeared, meaning it would be no time before dad got the sudden urge to come back in the kitchen.
"You can't ignore me all night Leslie. Because I won't let you. Think of me as your worst nightmare for the night." He suddenly grabbed my hand in such a rough manner before practically slamming it onto the exposed burner, the heat from it causing my skin to immediately burn. My eyes welled with tears and before i could scream, his lips slammed into mine with such force, my little yells of pain only slight hums in his mouth. I could practically feel his excitement from all this.
"There. I like that on you." He brought my hand to face level, suddenly licking the now burned flesh on my hand in such slow motions I had to grit my teeth, my blood leaving trickles on his mouth before he licked it off.
"Sweet." That was all he had to say to describe the taste of my blood on his tongue before Henry finally came back into the kitchen, Patrick acting as if nothing happened, already halfway across the room in a split second. My breathing was elevated, my heart rate spiking by the second.
"Dinner's ready...." Was all I could mutter.
#owen teague#it#patrick hockstetter#horror#henry bowers#victor criss#belch huggins#bowers gang#beverly marsh
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Blog Revamp.
//Going forward while I'll tell I want to stop talking, I'm going to be less talkative about it and just say it and then do it and then block. I'll give a vague idea of why I'm doing this, as I'm ceasing ooc interaction to some degree but not entirely. Triggering content below and I guess drama? I'm not going to name drop. You can skip the context and simply head to my new disclaimer called 'This is the low bar before my rules, if you trip it. You're gone and I may confront you'.
//Last night I blocked 4 ppl, 1 of which whom was the main offender and not involving the other group of 3 had been involved and I will not be saying what happened other than the main guy as it was bad enough to do what needed to be done to keep myself safe, while the main guy involved had been doing weird stuff in the bg with other muns against their wishes or interests that involved underage stuff then p much admitting to me privately while also being pretty dis-genuine to me for our end convo and in general for the good faith I had for them and speaking good of their character, but them basically admitting 'It's not like I advocate for this in real life' that ended in me telling them to fuck off as if it was my opinion or something? Bc this guy kept doing weird shit to involve ppl or getting outwardly handsy in a way not okay without asking with his adult characters toward minor characters or making weird ass commentary.
//The other 3 I will not be saying anything on, these people while I disagree with them in some aspects, I still needed to take action to protect myself. But I do care about them, but my self-preservation will always take priority bc being trans is death by association to me for a p bad topic. I don't care who you are to me, at that point I have to react, I can't say I didn't know, it obligates me to take action. And even morally I can't really stand with it or risk it.
//The resulting aftermath just left me incredibly drained even if I wasn't outwardly upset or raging or something, then I went numb emotionally and began trembling violently for some reason and I didn't really understand what was happening to me. I just laid down light-headed as it got worse and worse and eventually it stopped. I couldn't feel emotion or really was even sad, or know what that was but it was enough to me to realize I need to just set some hard limits down which I thought was pretty clear but I guess not.
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This is the low bar before my rules, if you trip it. You're gone and I may confront you:
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You're a proshipper or friend or otherwise of one of some kind involving pedophilia or rape porn or noncon ship or adult x child/teenager ship. I don't care how light it is, I can't associate with it, everything shipwise is 18+ for me. I won't go after people simply for interacting with people without knowing but I'm not obligated to say anything. This is tiring, so yeah, sorry if you end up finding out the hard way for anyone.
You openly or privately reference sexual content to my characters involving other characters that are minors.
You try to start drama with me that doesn't involve hard-hitting topics such as what's mentioned above or bigotry or try to drag me into drama I'm not apart of. If I know you on discord and talk with you frequently or have in the past, it's fine to vent about drama but always prepare me for the topic before going in so I have subtext beforehand of what it's about.
You have a political or religious agenda with me and try to talk politics with me, I don't care if people mention it or talk about it on dash. Discord friends are exempt from this but I will say that leaning too deeply to one side will make me block you probably.
You spam me too much other than for rps and I don't have you added on discord. Discord is my main chat program, just come in, ask for an rp, plot with me then we can rp, banter a little maybe and be done with the convo. This one I give a proper warning for before doing something.
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This is my main disclaimer up above now. It pretty much has replaced many of my other disclaimers that I'm pretty much whatever to anyway at this point.
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I am here to have fun and make my friends and girlfriends happy and feel safe and loved. Involving me potentially into dangerous shit whether it's an opinion, your fetish or otherwise that could seriously harm me if it came to my association with you to me being pursued irl for identity wise is just not worth it to me or considering my well-being. You're not obligated to care but neither am I, this goes toward more than just one person. I would say in the past week I've also dealt with a few ppl that approached me that also turned out to be into rape or something.
So rn I'm going to be a bit grumpy now for for the next few days for what I'm starting to feel but I'll be fine within three days or so, consider this a warning if dming me on tumblr but not discord.
#ooc#tbd#psa#//if u want to unfollow that's fine. i'm getting to replies now and maybe try to get back into gear
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