#warning: deadnaming
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wettblanket · 29 days ago
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It's not his sister standing on the porch when Ford swings the front door open. The person leans away from his crossbow and he forces himself to blink the blurriness way from his bloodshot eyes.
In a voice that is too deep to belong to Ford's younger sibling, the person says, "Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome."
It sounds like they smoke a pack a day, deep and rumbled in an oddly familiar way. Ford readjusts his aim. His arms are starting to shake again. The coffee is wearing off.
The person scowls at him, their thick eyebrows furrowing. The black beanie they wear is thread bare and littered with holes. Dark greasy brown hair sticks out of it and curls in a tangled mess past their shoulders. Their maroon jacket is stained with various substances. Their jeans are even worse, practically bleached white from wear and covered in spatters of something long dried.
Ford is sure if his nose was functioning right now this person would smell as bad as him. Maybe even worse. It doesn't look like they've showered in a long time.
Acne runs rampant across their boxy face. Their nose is big and reddish. Ford fights the numb urge to touch his own in comparison. Their stomach pouches out, almost like a beer gut, but their hips are just as wide set and curvy. Their chest is hard to make out. There's enough of a bump there that they could have breasts.
Could this really be his sister? Or is this the shape shifter trying to gain access to his home?
"Constance..." Ford hesitates, still trying to decipher the puzzle in front of him. "Did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?"
The person who doesn't look like his sister scoffs. "Eh, hello to you too pal." Their eyeroll isn't subtle. But it is achingly familiar. Constance used to do the same thing when Ma tried lecturing her about how to behave like 'a proper lady'. "And you know my name, genius. Call me by it."
Ford lowers his crossbow at the mention of the forgotten nickname of childhood past. He'd not called his sister anything but her given name since high school after Pa sat him down and warned him off of indulging in his twin's bad habits.
"...Stan."
It rolls of his lips uncertain and stilted. Wrong. Ford doesn't have the time to waste on frivolous things like preferred names. The world is at stake.
He lunges forward and gets a fistful of Constance's collar to yank her into the threshold of his home. His other hand drops the crossbow for the pen light nestled in his coat pocket.
Up close it's easier to find the similarities between the version of his sister Ford remember and this dilapidated mess of a person. There's a familiar faded scar by her temple from a boxing accident. Another scrape on the side of her cheek where that one patch of acne never went away. Deep honey brown eyes that dilate when under the light.
As Ford flicks his wrist to light up her other eye does Constance seem to react. She makes an unhappy, maybe even disgusted, grunt and shoves him away. Ford idly notices the fact that she's wearing black gloves and the faint dampness of melting snow on her shoulders.
"Hey! What is this?" She slaps his arms down but once Ford backs off she stays against the wall. Her face is twisted up into something Ford's cloudy brain can't make out right now. What she's thinking means nothing. He has a job for her.
"I wasn't making sure you weren't - " A horrifically familiar high pitched giggle whispers past Ford ear and he can't help the way his eyes dart around. "Ah, it's nothing. Come in."
Ford retreats further into his house. He clutches his coat closed and digs his nails into the seam and buttons there to ground himself. He's not dreaming. He's awake. This is reality.
Constance shuts the door and her dull footsteps follow after him. Ford doesn't stop until he's standing in front of the secret entrance bookcase.
"Look," She says with a touch of exasperation, "you going to explain what's going on here? You're acting like Ma after her tenth cup of coffee."
Ford has probably drank twice that today. He lost count after seven. "Listen, there isn't much time." He grabs his journal off the messy, paper covered desk, and whirls back around. Constance's eyebrows are furrowed again. It almost looks like concern. It's the same expression she'd get when she was trying to figure out if someone had messed with him and caused his bad mood.
"I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore." Ford twitches as he comes to a stop beside the skeleton he can't remember why he kept in the house to begin with. He automatically turns its head away from them. He can't stop moving. He can feel sleep buzzing in the back of his head, crawling its way toward his eyes like starving ants.
"Hey, easy there." Constance keeps her body facing him as he paces past her. It's a minimal comfort. "Let's talk this through, okay?"
Her hand, so much larger than Ford remembers it being, lands softly on his shoulder. Ford drinks the solid weight in. A brief anchor to reality. He is awake.
This is where Ford tripped himself up thinking and overthinking and analyzing the best way to go about this. Constance was headstrong on the best of days. To give her a direct order was like asking her to do the complete opposite. The only real option Ford had was to ask.
The idea of doing so gave him violent shivers, however. Ford twists around to face his twin again. He's asked things of her before. Back when the world made sense. Back when his sister was his solstice.
Things have changed. Drastically. But who could Ford turn to in a situation like this? Constance, despite her faults, had been endlessly loyal to him and him alone. The likelihood of her turning against him, of being swayed by Bill or other supernatural forces, was practically impossible.
Ford knew deep down that if he managed to ask, she would do it. She had always done as he asked. It was just the embarrassing cycle of actually expressing what he desired.
But this time wasn't like any of the lasts. This wasn't a teenagers pathetic attempt at intimacy. This was the fate of the world.
Ford offers out his journal, ignoring how badly his hands are trembling. "I have something to ask of you."
Constance reaches out and the moment her fingertips brush the cover, it's like the weight of everything that's been crushing down on him lifts, just a little.
She turns it over in her hands, oddly reverent and careful. Ford feels his body twitching involuntarily and knows he needs to get her out of here as soon as possible. He's starting to fall asleep. He can't afford to let Bill take over. Not with her so close. Not with everything the demon knows about her. About them.
"Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?" His eyes water as he struggles to keep them open. Constance blurs into a dark colored blob in front of him. "Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far as you can! To the edge of the earth. Bury it where no-one can find it."
Thick silence stretches after his bold exclamation. It gets harder to keep his eyelids from dipping closed. The room sways around him. The only thing that remains steady and immovable is his beloved sister. She'll fix everything. Just like always.
"That's it?" Constance's voice is rough and whispered. Ford almost doesn't hear her, with her timber much lower than he's used to. "You finally want to see me after ten years and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?"
Something in her tone isn't right. Why is she fighting him? Why isn't she just listening like normal? Can't she do anything correctly? Ford is asking for so little and she can't even try to mend the gap.
"You have no idea what I've done to 'mend the gap', you pompous asshole." Constance snarls and stomps past him toward the front door. Ford struggles to keep up with her flurry of movement. He can't tell if she still has the journal in hand or not.
"Wait, Constance!"
"It's Stan!" She roars. Ford instinctively flinches back. Years of childhood fear comes flooding back. She sounds like like their father. "My fucking name is Stanley! Not that you give a shit, if you ever did in the first place."
The words cut and leave Ford's chest throbbing in pain. His vision swims but he stumbles after his twin. This isn't right. Reality is melting away from his grasp. Constance can't been here. He can't let Bill near her.
He can't lose the only person he's got left.
"Get out of here."
Constance says something in response but it's muffled and milky. Ford's world tilts and spins, the muted colors of his house blurring together in a dizzyingly ball of watercolor. The blob of red waves in and out of focus as Ford's body finally gives out and his mind detaches to drift above it all. The warped noises dim into oblivion and the world goes hauntingly dark.
The last lingering thought Ford has is that he's let the wrong person into his house. This person cannot be his sister.
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Ok, update on the latest Neoboards Transphobia drama, so people on the (former) General Discussion board and on Site Events have been complaining about the ongoing moderation issue and how the transphobes are literally there, still insulting us and trying to twist the narrative into the typical "this is inappropriate" type of bullshit argument, while if we argue back or post threads about it we keep on getting silenced and warned and all.
And, well, if you don't want to believe this is the mods 100% supporting transphobia, here's VERY strong evidence for the case, two warnings that a user got, the first regarding a thread on Site Events talking about mods not protecting trans people in site, and the second on the subsequent thread complaining about being warned for said first thread.
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Yeah... The moderation is arguing that talking about trans topics is talking about sexual topics. A classic bigoted argument against trans people's existence.
All of this while the transphobes continue to harass users and spam threads with transphobic rhetoric.
So yeah, ain't it fun?
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jaydawne · 9 months ago
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Samuel Ramblings
As concluded by the poll, I shall now ramble about Samuel on as much as I can that I haven't mentioned yet already. So, without further ado~ Here is Even More Info™️ about Samuel under the cut (WARNINGS: Mentions of; Purposeful misgendering/deadnaming, physical and verbal bullying, obsessive behaviours [potentially parental yandery], death of a loved one, very long ass post)
So, I've already given a basic rundown on Sam in general, but now you get his
~Backstory~
(I'll get to his other interests and such in another post probably, this got a lot longer than I thought it would) So, Samuel essentially grew up in a household where he was very much loved and cared for, however the way said love and care went was a biiit, askew to say the least. His parents were very helicoptery, wanting to know everything going on with him at every given moment, even going so far as to pull him out of school in order to keep a closer eye on him and teach him things themselves (It is at this point that I think I might have accidentally made his parents kinda yanderey, but without the whole killing thing. Not sure but I'll add that to the warnings/tags anyway just in case). Admittedly another part of that was because Sam was often bullied for his appearance, the other kids finding him to look too weird to be normal, calling him mean names, excluding him during playtime, stealing his food, general mean little kid stuff, but it still didn't really excuse pulling Sam out of school altogether. They even went so far as to put a tracker on him so they'd always know where he is. They're also very in denial about Samuel being trans, calling it a 'phase' and insisting that he's still their 'precious little baby girl' no matter what he says or does. Luckily though, it wasn't all horrible all the time, Samuel had his uncle, Boris, and his little cousin Brody, who had the same heterochromia as him, just in opposite eyes. Boris was a wonderful uncle, he adored and accepted Sam and always did his best to tell Sam not to listen to anyone who tells him to be anything other than himself. Boris taught Sam many things both fun and practical, like how to play a guitar, lock-picking for just in case purposes of course, basic self defence and cooking, anything he could that he thought Sam might need to know in the future. He knew Sam's parents wouldn't teach him anything that would help him survive away from them, so he wanted to do everything he could for him so that if Sam were ever able to get out, he wouldn't be completely unable to help himself. Brody, meanwhile, adored Samuel, and wants to be 'just like him' someday. He's pretty much more like a little brother to Sam than anything else, and he thinks his big cousin is just the coolest ever, and often refers to him as 'Samsam'. They were practically inseparable whenever Samuel came over, also cheering and hugging each other tight when they saw the other. It always made Boris smile to see them so close. Unfortunately though, things couldn't be this happy forever, because when Samuel was 10, something happened to Boris that caused him to pass away (I'm still undecided on what that is, either illness or car accident), meaning Samuel no longer had a safe space he could go to, and Brodi had to go live with his grandparents who live outside of the US. Thus, Samuel was alone, but he wasn't out of hope. He'd had enough. So, he did the only rational thing an 10 year old could think of: he ran away from home Psychonauts anyone? No? Okay then- Admittedly, it did take him a while to do so, but he managed by the time he was 11, and had also taken out the tracker so they couldn't find him. He took a lot of measures to make sure they couldn't find him for a while at the least... This is how he ended up coming across a junkyard, intending to lay low there for a bit until he figured out how he would earn money in order to live on his own. At least, that was the idea, until he ran into a pre-mutation Repo Mantis (who I will be calling 'Manny' as 1. he is not a mantis yet and 2. I yoinked the name from @/rottmnt-risuum , go read their comic it's so good, just mind the gore if you're not into that). Luckily, however, instead of kicking Sam out, he decided to make an offer; Sam can help out in the yard in exchange for cash and a place to live until he's able to make it on his own, to which Samuel accepted. Manny may be a greedy guy, but he ain't the heartless type to leave a kid to rot.
 From that point on for the next roughly 2 years, Samuel would help around the yard, doing tasks that are reasonable for a kid his age, and if anyone were to give him any trouble for any reason, Manny would handle it and add some compensation to make up for whatever it was Sam had to deal with. He may seem like the kind of guy to not care a lot, but he has a pet kitten and kept her even after she mutated and tried to eat him for crying out loud, he has some softness under that Brooklyn accent somewhere, and sure enough he'd grown to like Samuel, becoming a sort of surrogate father/uncle figure to him. Somewhere along that line Samuel was somehow also able to procure HRT and start on that, but how it happened I will never know. It's a show with talking turtle ninjas that have magic I don't have to be logical about things ALL the time.
Soon enough, when Samuel was 12, he managed to save up enough to get himself an apartment and was even able to get into a school and find a relatively okay job that didn't know he was not 14 because he sorta kinda lied on his resume- It was worth it though, he was glad he did it. He was finally able to be independent and not need to rely on others help to get a better life, but he will always be grateful to Manny for everything, and still visits him at least a few times a week either to just hang out or do favours, like fixing something or taking care of Mrs Nubbins, in exchange for being able to scrounge around for parts that he can use for any projects he's working on either for practice or to get one step closer to his dream of being a mechanic/technician. Manny only ever pretended to keep score of how many favours Sam could cash in. As far as he was concerned, Sam could take anything he wanted, within reason at least.
Of course, this doesn't mean Samuel is completely free. He still needs to be wary of his parents, as they're out there looking for him. They almost did find him at one point, but he was able to move somewhere else before they did, but he had to change his contact details and other such things in order to keep them off his trail. It's a song and dance he'd have to go through generally once or twice a year at least, three or maybe four if he's unlucky. He doesn't have a lot with him, so it makes the process easier, but it's never any less nerve wracking or stressful, not to mention expensive. But he's been getting more and better jobs, and eventually he didn't need to lie about his age on his resume anymore, which was a huge relief off his shoulders if he were perfectly honest. He still got bullied at his new school though, again for his appearance, which was unfortunate.
 His main bullies were these two guys, Kyle and Lyle, who sometimes had one or two other guys with them to join in on tormenting Samuel as much as they could, calling him him things like 'freak' or 'monster' or 'failed Frankenstein' (which Sam often wants to correct that Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster), even going so far as to beat him on the odd occasion. Safe to say, Sam can't really catch much of a break. That is, at least, until one night he sees a video of his employer's kid, Baxter Stockkid, making yet another one of his videos again. He goes to the Stock 'n Shop in order to stop Baxter from doing anything stupid that would get himself into trouble with his parents, only to end up meeting April from school, and two very green very three-fingered people that are very clearly not human despite their cosplayer claims. They are very clearly not cosplayers, he can smell the turtley-ness on them. He's more intrigued by them than freaked though, finding them rather cool and interesting. After that whole situation is over and done with, Samuel ensures that any video footage Baxter might have taken of the turtles is erased in order to protect their secrecy, and also put up a firewall to prevent any of such videos being released in case Baxter had any backups somewhere he didn't know about. It was after this that Sam and April actually met up properly and started to bond, earning Samuel his first friend of a similar age group, and also someone who can and will stick up for him when Kyle and Lyle try shit, which he greatly appreciates but also tries to discourage as he doesn't want her caught up in his shit. It's not long after that when Samuel, while rummaging around Repo's junkyard, he comes across Donnie for the first time. It catches them both quite off guard, but after a moment Samuel recalls Manny mentioning some troublesome turtles stealing that movie buggy he'd found a couple weeks ago, and figured that this terrapin likely is not exactly on friendly terms with the mantis mutant. Thus, he warns Donnie of when Manny would be doing his rounds and that he should get what he needs and go before he's caught before leaving himself as to not draw attention. Skip to a week later, April decides to properly introduce Sam to the turtles and cue recognition and mild shenanigannery, solidifying Samuel as a friend of the turtles. Aaaaaand that's about it! For the most part that is, this is just up to being properly brought into it, there is still a bit regarding his time with the turtles, let alone his change in species and whatnot. That can be for another post on another day, hopefully not several months from now-
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whispers-into-the-void · 1 year ago
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i don't end up reading much fanfiction but i spent most of last evening reading this beautiful, heartbreaking tua fanfiction called "Running is a Victory"(haven't finished it yet). i love it so so much. protective five? check. five ben viktor being besties? check.
plus an actual plot that tries to answer how some things in the tua universe work.
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jetcandraw · 1 year ago
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Updates in general:
Heya guys, Happy new year and I hope the holidays were nice for you! Just wanted to make a post to say that incase you haven't noticed, I have a new name after realizing that I'm nonbinary well over a year ago and only until less than a year I found a suitable name for myself. So I wanted to make a post about my old username since for those of you who've been around to still see my work (which I appreciate a lot btw :3), know that I went by @juliacandraw then. However when my fanart for Deltarune was dubbed, I went by that name then. So I just want people to know incase you find some of my work on youtube dubbed by others and mention my old user @juliacandraw just know that now it's @jetcandraw incase you wanna find the original comic. It kind of just hit me since a lot has changed then, so I thought it'd be important to point it out.
Other than that, I plan to open up commissions again soon so stay in tune for that. Just haven't been posting much because college is annoying (if yk, yk).
Thank you guys for understanding
Edit: Also one thing I forgot to mention, THANK YOU FOR 700+ FOLLOWERS!!! 🤯🤯🤯
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hehe-hoho-ohno · 2 years ago
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Spoilers for the next chapter of Misfits under the cut!
Null swung around and kicked the bucket over. Water splatted everywhere as the bucket spun away.
Jawbreaker stepped backward, away from the growing pool. “…Was that necessary?”
Completely uncaring, Null stormed through the puddle towards the wall and - maintaining eye contact the entire time - shoved everything off the shelf. A box burst open, sending a round of bullets spilling across the floor.
“Don’t do that.”
Still staring at Jawbreaker, Null reached up to the shelf above and cleared everything off that one too. Something shattered.
“No, really. Most of that is dangerous, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
It was a true and reasonable point. Null swept everything off a third shelf anyway.
Jawbreaker crossed his arms. “Oh, verrrry mature of you. Throwing a tantrum won’t solve anything.”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum!” Null screamed and pushed the contents of another shelf onto the floor. He screamed again in wordless rage before storming off and throwing himself down into the corner furthest away from the chaos. He curled up and shoved his head in-between his knees.
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xirae · 1 year ago
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Gotta listen to Anohni, she’s great in the Bjork collabs off Volta
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rexomi · 4 months ago
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Something something. Making Solas a liar in Veilguard actively brings back a problem they fixed working on Inquisition.
On December 20 2019 VGS posted an interview with Trick Weekes about their work on Solas. This whole sentence is a link so its large enough for mobile but also disclaimer this is before they changed their name so deadname warning.
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Here's a transcription I found here which is where i took the screenshots above. Since I know not everyone has 40 minutes to listen to an online radio interview.
I however highlighted the main point since most of you are not reading the screenshots anyway but skimming through. Rant under Read-more. Also bc i try to not be too negative on people's dashs but also i wanna ramble some more.
"But he lied a lot more. And it really weakened his character."
You can tell this happened during the game. Solas lies only once within Inquisition. He says something he can't be vague about and you push him so he lies, badly. He usually tells the truth vaguely. Typically Solas lies no more than Blackwall.
I fully believe that if in Inquisition your inquisitor figured out that Solas was Fen’harel and asked him bluntly to his face he'd confess. He might even be impressed. But why would you ever start to think that. No one assumes that their coworker is actually Poseidon regardless of how much they love the beach and ocean.
He hides in your expectations.
You can't ask him about being an ancient elf or being Fen'harel of myth because those aren't very probable. They're astronomically low to be truth within that universe. And outside, no one finished DA2 and went i wonder if one of our next companions is the Dread Wolf. Sera said, impossible things can't be surprises. He doesn't have to lie so when the truth comes out it's becomes obvious on a second playthrough.
They then actively bring back a problem they fixed in Inquisitions development. That they were open about fixing. That having a character that outright lies to you makes you have no intention of even hearing out the character. It retroactively undercuts Inquisition bc i see people trying to find Solas' lies in it when they aren't going to find any beyond the court intrigue.
It undercuts any lore we do get from Solas bc people dismiss it outright as being a lie from Mr "I abhor blood magic". I feel like shaking people's shoulders like no, dont do it.
They retconned him guys i have proof from 2019.
And its like if you hate Solas is this even satisfying? Like that's not Solas. His motivations are gone (that's a whole other post) and so is his core personality trait. It's like they went here's the Dreadwolf but during the ten years they replaced the smug asshole who was insufferably right with a 20 yo senior chihuahua that doesnt have any teeth.
My favorite villains are those that tell the truth. Because nothing hurts more than the truth. Can you imagine if he told you the truth. If he told you horrible things that you dismissed as lies to only be true. Wouldn't Varric’s death have more weight if he told you Varric was dead only for you - for everyone - to see him in the Lighthouse. If it was a spirit who took his shape to help you or even because it saw something worth reflecting in your memories.
So you dismiss him until it's revealed near the end oh he was telling the truth and you have an oh shit maybe he was right about other things but its too late to try and stop any of the truths he told you which could be from allies/companions betraying to stuff about Ghilan'nain and Elgarnan.
Like the only way to redeem Solas was to listen to him and by going out of your way to address problems he sees and you can find the alternative to tearing down the Veil by a series a little puzzle pieces throughout the game.
Have it be he will only listen to you if you listen to him. That he'll reject your other solution bc why the hell would he trust you if you couldnt extend the same.
Like Solas couldve been a great villian and he should've been great for both the haters and those that liked him. Not only the romance but for those who became his friend. Like i keep coming back to if i hated Solas would i be satisfied with Veilguard.
And the answer is no because that isnt Solas.
Tricking him has no weight bc he's an idiot in Veilguard like not even in the ending bc doesn't notice you switch the dagger around like right in front of him but none of his actions make sense. Ppl have mentioned the regret prison makes no sense for Elgarnan and Ghilan'nain bc they don't have regrets.
Attacking Solas has no weight because he literally needs the shit kicked out of him by a dragon for it to even begin to work. They literally need him to be at deaths door before its realistic that Rook could take him in a fight.
Redeem has no weight bc of the massive retcons to his motivations. They had to retcon the post credits scene bc even if Flemythal went hey i don't want you to do this Dai Solas wouldve went okay but that doesnt solve my other problems with the veil including the corruption of spirits and the fact its in literal shambles so i guess is still coming down.
I'm just disappointed. By the end of Trespasser they had a great villian and they just tossed it to the side and reverted him and people are arguing about a character who's sole defining trait in Veilguard is a problem they solved before Inquisition launched.
Basically we can sum it up with a screenshot.
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sassy-cass-16 · 1 year ago
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look man. look
essek saying "bren" out loud, claiming a position on caleb's side as the mouthpiece of his regards to astrid, did something to me. i can't tell if it opened a wound or punched me or gave me a hug. all i know is that i am feeling so many emotions right now
more under the cut because i'm about to get rambly:
"bren aldric ermendrud" is a separate character from caleb widogast. he's a young boy learning how to make magic. he's a deeply traumatized and indoctrinated teenager. he's the boy who curled up with astrid and eadwulf in a freezing tower for warmth all night.
essek never met bren. he met caleb and he's never known him as anyone else. if i'm remembering correctly, caleb never even said the name "bren" to him during the campaign, and neither did any of the nein.
essek knows caleb widogast. he knows the man who held up the object of his worst crime and then kissed him in the bowels of a ship and made a floor of infinite stars for them to walk through together. he knows the person who healed over bren's wounds—thinly, but enough. he knows the man that the boy has become.
astrid knows bren. she barely knows who caleb is. she still calls him bren after hearing him referred to as caleb repeatedly. she can't know him as the man he is, she only knows the boy. there's some of bren in caleb, but there is no caleb in bren.
essek saying "bren sends his regards" is him gauging astrid's reaction, on one level—if she freaks out, which she did, she's in opposition to caleb's cause and thus a threat. on another level, it's essek delivering a very different subtextual message from caleb: "the boy who loved you is giving you one final warning."
because essek is a threat to astrid. their last meaningful interaction was slinging spells at each other in the blooming grove. and that's funny in a "current boyfriend vs ex girlfriend exclusively fight each other" kind of way, but it's also deeply tied to caleb's recurring theme of transformation. "bren sends his regards" also means "i have healed enough to love enough for someone else to know this name and use it with my consent. and this someone else is your enemy. what does that make you think i've become?"
it also does a fantastic job of communicating subtle offscreen discussions that have happened over the years since the end of c2. we don't have the details of when or how caleb told essek his birth name, but we know that he did, and we know from all of c2 that the name bren occupies a place of immense emotional weight for caleb. it functions similarly to a deadname in terms of who uses it and for what purpose. trent exclusively calls caleb bren to wound him and place himself in a position of power. astrid calls him bren to remind both him and herself of who they used to be—same with eadwulf, though obviously he's not here.
the first time we hear essek say "bren" is on caleb's behalf and confronting one of the narrative representations of caleb's trauma. it's four words that manage to communicate "i, your enemy on a hundred levels, can speak for both the man i love and the boy who loved you, because i know him in his entirety."
astrid knows bren and essek knows caleb, but only essek can speak for both. because at some point, caleb gave bren to essek. and we know this from four words. four IMPROVISED words.
god. this moment is just so fucking good
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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago
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christmas cards - 25 days of jegumas - december 19 - @noblehouseofgay - word count: 288 - trans!Regulus - warning: mention of past deadnaming but it's a happy fic!
Growing up, Regulus always hated the idea of sending out Christmas greetings. 
Though his parents were very selective with who they decided to grace with a missive around the holidays, they still sent something to keep up appearances and connections. And the knowledge that a card had been signed with the name he’d been given at birth always sent a stabbing feeling to his chest. Greetings from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the letter started. And at the end? Regards, Orion, Walburga, Sirius, and Regina. 
He despised it.
So when he’d finally managed to escape his parents’ hold and James mentioned happily that Effie and Monty had put him on the Potter Family Christmas Card, he balked, remembering horribly stiff letters and closing signatures that made him nauseous.
“No,” he mumbled, frowning. “I don’t…I didn’t want…”
And James just looked confused. “What? Why? It’s…I actually thought it was sweet, but if you don’t want..”
He pulled out a small card, offering it to Regulus, who took it nervously.
But there on the thick paper were moving pictures that made his body relax and his anxiously-beating heart melt. Shots of Effie hugging James and Sirius. Sirius putting Regulus in a headlock. Monty helping Regulus put the star on the tree. The three boys eating cereal at the table, all wrapped in horribly festive jumpers. And one of James softly kissing a sleeping Regulus on the forehead, both of them curled up on the couch.
At the bottom, it read: Wishing you the happiest of holidays. Love, James, Sirius, Regulus, Euphemia, and Fleamont.
Refusing to cry, Regulus just held the card close to his chest. “I guess this is alright, then,” he mumbled, ignoring James’s thrilled smile.
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thekoalapastriesbakery · 5 months ago
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BOYFRIEND²
trans ftm!franco colapinto x male!reader
request: Hi , will you do trans Franco ( you can use any dead name ) when he tells his boyfriend he’s trans
summary: no more girlfriend for you!
warnings: franco being nervous, reader being an overthinker
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©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!
author's note: didn’t choose a deadname bc it kinda feels weird to do, but i hope this works!!
comments + reblogs appreciated!
: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @spoonfulofmilo @ncrsbrg
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mr-celestial-writings · 7 months ago
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The Oldest Biological Child [Headcanons/Drabble]
Trigger Warnings: Child Neglect, Violence
Trans Masc Reader
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You are Bruce's oldest biological child. Older than Damian, but Younger than Tim.
Sometimes, you wish you weren't. You never asked for your Mom to sleep with Bruce Wayne and get pregnant with you. You didn't ask for her to die protecting you.
You had grown to resent your family. Much like how it felt they resent you for just being born.
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Bruce Wayne:
When your mom had died, he didn't even pick you up himself. He sent Alfred to do it.
He had set you up in a fairly small room in the manor. You had enough room for your few belongings, but it wasn't anywhere near as large as the room of your siblings.
When you had come out to him as trans, he didn't disregard you, or do anything to discourage you. He helped you change your name and gender on your documents, but that was as far as his support went.
You can't recall a single event where he was there. Birthdays, Holidays, School Events. You went above and beyond, but you never got his praise.
He acknowledged you, but he never bragged about you. He never brought you out for father-child dates like he did the rest of your siblings. You were just... there. A decoration, a Ghost.
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At some point, you stopped trying to be a spark in your father's eyes. You came out to him, not for his support, just so he could go through all the legal stuff.
Honestly, you couldn't care less if he supported you He wouldn't remember your name anyways.
You thought you could bond with your brothers, but you were wrong.
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Richard "Dick" Grayson:
You thought Dick would at least be there for you. He was for a bit. But you were never a priority.
He always had a bag of excuses. "Sorry, Little D wanted me for something" or "I promised I'd help Tim!" You stopped trying after the 3rd year.
When you had come out of him, he voiced his support! But he did constantly slip up and accidently deadname you. He apologized, but the damage was done.
You can kind of remember him as some events. A couple birthdays, you think he gave you a birthday gift once. It was so infrequent though the the memories were starting to fade.
You knew you were never important to Dick, so you were never surprised when he never spoke about you. He seemed to forget about you sometimes.
Somehow, his friends were better to you than he was. They actually remembered you. Hell, you're sure Wally picked you up from school more than Dick ever did.
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Nobody was ever outright cruel to you. Well, except for Damian that is. But you could tell that Dick didn't really care about you.
You were normal, average. Why would they pay attention to you? Your brilliant mind or beautiful art didn't change the fact that you were an untrained civilian.
You were useless to them.
Well, to most of them. There was one brother who actually tried.
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Jason Todd:
"Damian is the Son of Bruce, but you, [Name], you are mine."
Jason could see you were lonely, a Ghost. And it hurt his heart. In his opinion, nobody deserved to be forgotten. Everybody deserves to be remembered and heard.
He hung out with you, brought you out to hang out with the Outlaws, Trained you, Picked you up from school. But with his strained relationship with Bruce, he couldn't always be at the Manor.
He gave you the location of all his safe houses and his phone number, though. Anytime you called, he picked up.
When you came out as trans to him, he offered to beat up anybody who harasses you. He dragged you out clothes shopping too. He bought you your first chest binder. Hell, he and the outcasts threw a whole party for you.
He tried his best to be at every event. Anytime he couldn't make it, he brought you out on a Boy's night with Roy, Bizzaro, and himself. He may or may not of bought you a shot on your 16th.
You have a place with Jason and the Outlaws, even if you don't belong with the Waynes.
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Jason couldn't make up for all the hurt. He knew that. He was one person, there was not snowflakes chance in hell that he could fix years of neglect.
But you knew you could always run to the outlaws. They welcomed you with open arms. His training made sure you could keep up with them. You were part of the team, without them even saying as much.
The third brother was Jason's polar opposite though.
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Tim Drake:
Honestly, you didn't even know Tim's name until you heard Dick shout it across the manor. It was very much an "Oh hey I have another brother" moment.
You two rarely interacted, just occasional nods to each other if you passed each other in the hallway.
You didn't even bother coming out as trans to Tim. You two were complete strangers. Sometimes you would remind him to put the coffee down and sleep.
Like Bruce, you couldn't remember a single Tim time was at an event in your life. You half convinced yourself he was a mass hallucination until you met his friends.
Like with Dick, Tim's friends were a lot more welcoming to you. Conner had spent more time with you than Tim ever did.
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You and Tim respected each others space, both of you content with being strangers. Tim had his team(s) and the family, you had the outlaws.
You may not have been as smart as him, but at least you were smart enough to not push yourself.
You tended to keep to yourself and spend more and more time with the outlaws, basically getting adopted by them. Jason even taught you how to drive a motorcycle and do the Akira slide!
You thought you were okay, until the fourth came alone.
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Damian Wayne:
When you and Damian had first met, he stabbed you. Nowhere vital, but you did call Artemis as you patched yourself up. Goes without saying she picked you up and gave Bruce an ear full before dragging you away. Not how you wanted him to find out you were an outlaw.
Damian didn't stab you again, but he constantly insulted you and degraded you. "Whore's son" "Mistake" "Failure" The list really goes on. He never crossed the line and insulted your gender identity. Points for that.
You understood why Damian was like this. Being raised by assassins wasn't easy, and realizing he had a blood sibling was probably difficult. It didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
Damian was never at any event, why would he be? You two didn't get along and he saw you as a mistake. And you found that you didn't care anymore.
You basically moved out of the manor at that point, staying with the outlaws more. Jason had taken you up as his own little side-kick. So when you and Damian had run into each other on patrol, it was a showdown. He had threated to tell Bruce, and you had simply said "Do It."
Things were a lot more strained after that.
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After that run in, you stopped returning to the Manor. On your 18th Birthday, Jason helped you get your driver's license, even bought you your own bike.
You had changed your name back to your mother's last name. You no longer wanted to be associated with the Waynes.
You had drifted away, and you knew they would never drag you back.
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a/n: look, I may be on the Bruce is a Good Parent train, but that doesn't mean that I can't reflect my own trauma and the neglect I endured as a kid onto these silly characters.
Writing is how I cope, after all :)
Also, let me know if you would be interested in a series like this. It would be good writing experience.
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daniifanz · 1 month ago
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Some Win or Lose things on my mind:
- in Frank’s episode when he’s texting the girl he met online right before his ex is about to walk in, the blaring alarm going off. Like.. as a viewer I understand it as a warning that *something* is about to happen. (That something being the sudden appearance of Monica). But it was the first time we saw a story telling element like that. The whole thing with Frank’s episode was focused on armor, vivid flashbacks and video game animation for the dating app. So the red flashing alarm confused me for a bit. At first I didn’t know if it was a real alarm going off in the school or a narrative device 💀
- Some people theorize that the woman Frank was texting was Vanessa’s mom??? I didn’t get that impression at all and rewatching the show I still don’t see any signs point to that??
- so does Tom lowkey have a crush on Rochelle? Based on the convo with her mom
- Very specific but I like that we see some of the parents calling it baseball when it’s softball 💀 it just seems like an accurate parent slip to make
- the job interview where Zane attacks the guy after saying “so uh, how flexible are you 😏” didn’t expect that at all but it really be like that irl
- now I know Kai’s story was supposed to focus on her experience transitioning but the creators had to scrap that main story and opted to represent it in a more subtle fashion. Idk how much of that episode was cut/edited and rewritten but when it comes to the scenes of her scratching off what presumably was her deadname on her old glove and her looking fondly at her new one that says “Kai” some people thought that the last episode was the first time James called her Kai. Cause like Kai’s story relies on the dynamic between her and her father and whether or not he accepts her. But actually he already calls her that at the start of her episode. So I’m wondering if maybe some clarity was lost with her timeline because the creators had to switch up the focal point of story.
- Rinna always going off to Brian in Korean? 💀💀 does Brian understand Korean????
- Frank being Rochelle’s favorite teacher, and Rochelle being Frank’s favorite student confirmed 🥹
- there’s an awkward pause when Rochelle is venting to Laurie. The: “do I look buff? Girl yes have you been juicing?! No….” And then there’s a beat of silence lmaoo. What was that??
- okay so the last episode showed the final inning, they’d already had 2 outs and needed a win. Laurie avoided striking out and causing them that 3rd out by making base and then Kai sadly got out after her and everyone lost their minds. So I thought that was the end of the game??? But after everyone calms down they get back on the field to continue the play?? We don’t on screen confirmation of who won the championship but like?? Do I just not know softball cause if that was the final out in the final inning….doesn’t that mean the game is over??
- okay so yeah middle schoolers think high schoolers are cool but like does Rochelle lowkey have a crush on that one highschool girl we saw???
- why is Rochelle’s episode called raspberry? I get the others but hers is going over my head
(Adding on things as I remember them)
- in Vanessa’s episode she has her own little driving service Van’s Van and we see Francis as a passenger in one of the montages. Now I’ve been seeing people say Francis was apart of Frank’s imagination so does this prove he’s real?
- so the bleacher creatures bait Rochelle to try and get her keys to the snack shack but like what was their plan??? They say let us borrow your keys and then we give them back with your $200 bucks and that’s all….soooo did they actually have $200 bucks to pay her or were they planning on stealing the money she needed from her OWN JOB to give to her??? But that doesn’t make sense. Were they never intending to pay her at all?? Cause they get the keys anyway and we see in the end they were just gonna steal the cash box before Ira takes it and runs. What were they gonna do with the money?
- I loved seeing the bleacher creatures’ friendship with Ira before the end 🥺 like they actually listened to him and let him be himself. As a weird kid and the youngest sibling, that’s all we be wanting
- the barista purposely looking Frank straight in the eyes as she says “he’s like a brother to me you guys” 😭😭😭
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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months ago
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I took part in the Demon Twins Who Wrote That game over on the Haunting Heroes DPxDC server and author reveals were today. So now I can finally post the fic I wrote for it!
No Place Left to Hide
Danny is on the run. He wants nothing more than to see his family, but they're out of his reach at the moment. Then he sees a magazine article and accompanying photo of Damian Wayne. His long-lost twin brother. Maybe he does have some family he can check on. Just to spy from a distance, of course. Getting too close would only make his situation worse. But when he gets caught in the halls of Gotham Academy, he might not have a choice in the matter.
AO3 Link
Word Count: 3.1k
Rating: T
Warning: a trans Danny mentions his deadname to Damian
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Danny stared down at Gotham Academy. Damian was just inside those walls. All he’d have to do was go intangible and he’d be able to see his twin for the first time in eight years. The thought made his core ache, a throbbing that echoed in his still-healing injuries.
He was descending before ever consciously making the choice to actually see his brother.
It was stupid. What if Damian caught him? Told Talia, or worse, Ra’s? Then it wouldn’t just be the Fentons and the GIW after him, but also the League of Assassins. And he was already injured.
But he had to see. He hadn’t seen Damian in years. Had lived half his life without his twin at this point.
He should leave. He shouldn’t be here at all.
A moment later, he’d phased through the roof and floated invisibly in the middle of a locker-lined hallway. He allowed gravity to once more take control of him and his feet settled on the linoleum floor.
Now, to find Damian. Just to see him, make sure he was safe. The rest of his family were out of his reach; the GIW was monitoring them too closely for Danny to risk visiting. Or even just check in from a distance. And Danny’s core was demanding he check on his loved ones.
He’d been debating risking a visit to them regardless of the risk when he saw the magazine article: Wayne Boy Volunteers at Animal Shelter. The attached picture brought a smile to Danny’s face. One of the few genuine smiles he’d worn since being forced on the run. In it, Damian was glaring at the camera, but his arms were gentle as he cradled a puppy. Behind him stood Bruce Wayne, grinning widely. In the article, Bruce talked about how proud he was of his youngest son and his big heart. Back when they’d been with the League, Danny had been the only one to know of Damian’s gentleness.
Reading the article, seeing the picture had healed something in Danny. Damian had gotten out. Something he’d thought impossible when he left half a lifetime ago.
And now he was here to confirm it. To check on the twin he’d left behind. Make sure he was healthy and safe and happy. He’d never seen Damian be any of those things before. Not beyond fleeting moments carved out in secret.
Though… He looked around the empty hallway and bit his lip. The school was huge and he had no idea what Damian’s schedule looked like. Where should he even start?
Footsteps echoed down the hall and Danny instinctively moved to the side to let whomever it was pass.
Only to feel a hand grip his shoulder.
Danny just barely kept himself from twisting and throwing a punch at the person. He wasn’t able stop himself from jumping a foot in the air, though. And if he hung in the air a bit longer than gravity should’ve allowed, well, Danny could only hope the person gripping his arm didn’t notice.
“Wayne, why are you in the hallways out of uniform rather than in your class?”
Danny blinked in surprise. “What?” he asked. This guy couldn’t actually have mistaken him for Damian, could he have? They weren’t identical twins. They didn’t even have the same skin tone!
Though Danny did suppose he’d gotten more tanned lately. Being on the run meant he was spending much more time outside than normal and he always did tan pretty well, one thing to thank Talia for he supposed.
The hall monitor rolled his eyes. “Where are you supposed to be right now?”
Danny opened his mouth, then shut it again. Should he disappear? But what if the teacher reported it? Would the GIW come to investigate? Would Damian, growing up around Lazarus pits, ping on their sensors?
He stayed put and he stayed silent.
The teacher sniffed and pulled out his phone. After tapping a bit, he announced, “History with Mr. Binder. I’ll accompany you back and we will be contacting your father about this behavior.”
He grabbed Danny’s shoulder again and marched him through the hallways. Danny allowed it, not sure what else to do. And still so desperate to see his brother.
When they reached what must be Damian’s classroom, the man knocked once, then pushed the door open.
“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Binder. But I found one of your students wandering the hallways.”
Danny had barely glanced inside the classroom when his eyes fell on Damian. Everything else fell away. He didn’t see the other kids, didn’t hear Mr. Binder’s response. All he could see was Damian.
Even sitting, it was clear Damian was taller than Danny. His hair was shorter, his muscles more defined. And he was holding his pencil like it was a dagger he was going to throw through Danny’s throat.
Danny grinned and, speaking a language he’d barely used in eight years, said, “It’s been a long time, brother.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed further, but he kept his posture relaxed. Except for his grip on his pencil. “You’re no brother of mine. Who are you?” asked Damian, also in Arabic.
Danny clutched his hands to his chest. “How could you not remember me?” he wailed. But he couldn’t keep up the feigned offense for more than a second and grinned. “Though, I suppose you did used to call me sister. A lot’s changed in eight years, brother. Liat died in the league; I go by Danny now.”
At Danny’s mention of his deadname, the pencil fell from Damian’s hands. The sound of it hitting the floor was loud in the otherwise silent room. But when Damian spoke, his voice was steady. “Prove it.”
Danny inclined his head in a mock bow. “If you insist,” he said, switching to English. “The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play. So we sat in the house, all that cold, cold, wet day.”
Damian stood, sending his chair tumbling to the floor. “Enough!”
Danny obediently stopped reciting and grinned at Damian.
Damian hated The Cat in the Hat. Danny had heard it when he’d been sent to a daycare on one of his first missions to slip a child a mild poison that’d leave her sick for a few days and a letter for her father, a man who’d been planning to betray the league.
Danny had fallen in love. He’d smuggled the book out with him when he’d finished his task. The idea of a cat in a hat coming to the league and causing a bit of destruction helped him withstand the endless trainings and trials. Besides, their grandfather and mother deserved it. And Damian just didn’t see.
Though now Danny realized that was because Damian had never been allowed to glimpse what life could be outside the League. Danny, on the other hand, had been trained in spying and infiltration. Which meant he had to understand how kids his age worked and thought and acted. So he had to be around them with some regularity.
What he’d learned was that he wanted their lives, not his own. A lesson he tried, and failed, to teach Damian.
Before either Damian or Danny could think of something to say to each other, the History teacher cleared his throat. “Damian, what is going on here?”
Damian immediately stood to attention, just as Talia had taught him. “I apologize for the intrusion. My… brother came for an unexpected visit. May we be excused to the office so I can call my father?”
“I wasn’t aware you had another sibling your age,” said the teacher with a raised eyebrow.
“He’s from my mother’s side,” said Damian.
Danny hummed. True enough, he supposed. They did share a biological mother. Even if Danny refused to ever acknowledge her as such ever again.
He really didn’t have much luck with mother figures, did he? Maddie had turned out to be just as bad as Talia.
In the end, the teacher really didn’t have a choice but to let them go. Though the hall monitor who had caught Danny insisted on accompanying them all the way to the office despite Damian’s protests that he knew the way.
Danny hid a scowl at the situation. He’d had no intentions of meeting Bruce Wayne and now it looked like he’d either have to reveal his powers and run or meet his biological father. His core ached at the thought of leaving Damian, though. And he couldn’t risk letting Ra’s or Talia find out about his powers.
He ignored the longing he felt at the potential for a true family, for a father who loved him unconditionally. He was zero for three on parental figures. No way was he going to try for a fourth.
“How are you here?” asked Damian in Arabic as they walked.
Danny shrugged and answered in the same language. “Didn’t have anywhere else to be. Saw you in a magazine and figured I’d check in.”
“In a—” Damian cut off with a noise of frustration. “I thought you were dead. Did Mother put you in a pit?”
“As far as I’m aware, both Talia and Ra’s are also under the impression I am dead-dead. Though now that we’ve had contact, I don’t suppose that will last much longer.”
“How did you survive?” demanded Damian.
Danny stared ahead and bit his lip. After a moment, he said, “I did try and take you with me, you know. You were the only thing I regretted leaving behind.”
The resulting silence lasted until they reached the front office. Danny didn’t know how to break it.
They were instructed to sit in plush seats facing the office staff where they could be observed as Damian spoke to their his dad.
Damian pulled out his phone, but before he dialed, asked, “How did you get caught? Have you forgotten all your training?”
Danny didn’t bother to try and hide his blush. He’d been relying on his powers and must’ve let his invisibility drop by mistake. It was just…he’d been on the run for almost two months now. He was hungry and tired and in pain. If Jazz knew, she’d scold him for neglecting himself. He should’ve expected something like this would happen the moment he got distracted.
But how to explain that without explaining everything? “The last few months have been hard,” he settled on. “Due to certain circumstances, I am no longer welcome at the place I’ve called home the last few years and had to leave suddenly. Thus, I am not currently at optimal physical health. I grew careless.”
Damian frowned and looked down at his phone. Rather than answer, he opened his contacts and dialed the one labeled “Father.”
Danny probably should be more cautious. He probably shouldn’t trust Damian. But this was his brother. The only good thing from his early childhood.
And he was so, so tired.
Danny let himself slump against Damian’s side. Damian tensed for just a moment before he relaxed.
“Hello, Father,” said Damian into the phone.
Danny let his eyes drift shut as he listened to Damian’s side of the conversation.
“No. I am well. But there’s been a situation.”
Danny snorted at that description, and Damian pinched his thigh.
“It is not something I can explain over the phone, but I need to be picked up from school. Immediately.”
Bruce Wayne’s voice was just indistinct enough that Danny had a hard time understanding it, though he could hear the worry in it.
“It is a family matter. You will wish to be here quickly as there is a strong possibility we will not have the chance again.”
“Think I’m that good, do you?” huffed Danny under his breath. Damian just pinched him again with a tut.
“Could you stop and pick up a smoothie on your way in? With extra protein powder?”
Danny’s breath caught. Was Damian asking on his behalf? It’d been so long since he’d been around Jazz or his friends. He hadn’t had anyone look out for his wellbeing in months.
He screwed his eyes tight against the burning and focused on keeping his breathing steady.
The rest of Damian’s conversation consisted of stilted goodbyes and promises of explanations once they got home.
Despite his apprehension at meeting Bruce, sitting in a comfortable chair leaning against his brother after months of being on edge was enough for him to slip into a shallow doze. Damian would keep him safe. Whatever disagreements they’d had as children, that had been a constant. Danny was vaguely aware of the office staff talking and making noises. Damian’s shoulder shifted slightly as he did something on his phone. But Danny was more asleep than awake.
Until Damian tensed and shrugged his shoulder. “Father’s here,” he whispered in Arabic.
Danny was instantly awake, though he kept his posture relaxed. Bruce Wayne was someone who had attracted the attention of Talia al Ghul. Whatever face he presented to the public had to be a lie, and Danny didn’t know what to expect from him.
One thing Danny did know, though, was that he refused to go back to who he’d been with the league. The formality was so exhausting. And his very core rebelled at the thought of going back to a life of violence and suffering. He’d left to be a regular American kid, and that was what Bruce Wayne would meet.
Maybe his second death made that life impossible, but while he still had breath in his lungs and a heart that beat, he was going to cling to the dream.
So, rather than follow Damian’s lead and sit up straight and formal, Danny stretched his arms up and yawned loudly. “Ope, sorry for falling asleep there on you Dami,” he said in his strongest Midwestern accent.
Damian shot him a look, but didn’t respond. Still, when he stood, he offered a hand to Danny to help him up as well.
Danny grinned as he took it. Then he took a fortifying breath and turned to face Bruce Wayne, his biological father.
Bruce stared at him, face blank. His eyes lingered on where Danny still clasped Damian’s hand. To his disappointment, Damian let go at the look.
The stern look only lasted seconds before Bruce smiled broadly and his body language became relaxed and open. “You must be a friend of Damian’s! I take it this is for you?” He held out the smoothie for Danny.
Danny hesitated. His stomach ached with hunger, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. This was his biological father.
Damian misunderstood his hesitation and grabbed the smoothie himself. He took a deep swallow and in Arabic said, “It is safe, brother.”
If Danny hadn’t been staring so intently at Bruce, he would’ve missed the small twitch the man made at the word “brother.”
Danny grabbed the smoothie and took a long drink. He couldn’t stop the quiet sigh at the taste. It was the best thing he’d had in weeks. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m parked right out front! Let me just sign you both out and we can be on our way.”
“Oh, you just have to sign out Damian. I’m not a student.”
“Well, I suppose that explains the lack of a uniform! How do you know my Damian, then?”
“Father,” hissed Damian. In Arabic he said, “I will explain what I can in the car as I promised.”
Danny just took another sip of his smoothie and remained silent.
Bruce’s eyes flicked to Danny, gaze sharp. But he remained relaxed and ruffled Damian’s hair. “Of course, of course.”
Damian glared at him as he smoothed his hair back down.
Bruce laughed with the office staff and signed the requisite paperwork, then the three were making their way outside.
The car out front was a fancy sports car. Danny hesitated a moment before entering. He glanced down in both directions, but knew a school like this would have too many cameras to hide from.
And now that he had Damian in front of him, he was certain his core would protest if he tried to leave.
Damian made a sharp gesture to him, ordering him into the car. Danny slid in. The door shut behind him. He gripped his smoothie with both hands to mask their shaking and took another sip.
“Father,” started Damian. “This is…” he broke off.
“Yes?” prompted Bruce after a moment.
“This is my twin brother, Danny. Your other biological son.”
Bruce froze. Danny didn’t even think he was breathing. One hand rested on the gear stick where he’d been planning to put the car in drive, the other dug into his own leg.
“What.” Bruce’s voice was hard and flat, not a hint of the jovial man from the office.
“In his defense,” said Danny. “He thought I was his twin sister. And that I was dead.”
Bruce’s eyes closed and he took several deep breaths. “Your name is Danny?”
“Yep.” Danny popped the p. “Chose it myself six years ago.”
“It’s…a good name.”
“Thanks! It was my dad’s dad’s name.”
“Your dad?” asked Bruce.
Danny hummed. “Yeah. Got myself adopted after I ran away from Talia and Ra’s. But that living situation fell through a few months ago.” Which, really, understatement of the century, but Danny wasn’t going to go into it. “So I had to leave. Thought I’d check up on Damian. Mind if I come over to visit after Damian gets out of school for the next few days? I’ve got a hotel room lined up in the city,” he lied. Squatting was way easier when you were half-ghost.
Damian broke in at that. “You will be staying with us, not in some hotel,” he spat the last word. “And not just for a few days. Live with us.”
“Can’t stay more than a few days, I’m afraid.” The GIW or his parents would definitely find him if he did. “But if no one minds, I won’t turn down a room if you’ve got a spare.”
“Father’s house is large,” said Damian. “There are plenty of spare rooms.”
“Damian is right,” said Bruce. “I insist you stay with us. We can discuss more over lunch when we’re comfortable.”
Danny shrugged. “If you insist.” He’d disappear, of course. Too risky to stay and lead the GIW to Damian when he still wasn’t sure of the connection between ectoplasm and the Lazarus pits.
Bruce let out a long sigh and put the car in gear. “I do,” was all he said.
Danny watched the scenery go by, pretending not to notice the two pairs of eyes glued to him.
After several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, Bruce spoke again. “I am glad to meet you, Danny. I’m happy you came to Gotham.”
Danny hummed. He supposed time would tell if any of them would come to regret it.
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Hope you enjoy!
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hippiegoth97 · 6 months ago
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Beautiful Boy, Darling Boy: Eddie Munson x Reader
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Collage by me :)
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@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog
Description: You've been with Eddie for years, and just six months ago you came out to him as transgender. He's nothing but supportive, and after a long day of work, he helps you through your daily/weekly rituals and has some intimate time with you...
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, smoking, male reader, trans!reader (FTM), gay!reader, bisexual!eddie munson, mentions of transphobia, family issues, deadnaming (marked as D/N), arguing, one use of the F slur and T slur, crying, LGBTQ+ references, struggles with gender/body image, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, dirty talk, slight brat/dom dynamic, choking, spanking, rough/aggressive sex, consecutive orgasms, overstimulation, fluff
Word Count: 8.8k
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divider by @firefly-graphics
Beautiful Boy, Darling Boy
"Go ahead, baby. I know you can do it." Eddie says, his hands on your hips as he stands behind you in the bathroom of his trailer. You're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror, holding a long chunk of your hair in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other. You've been standing here for what feels like hours, trying to get yourself to cut your hair.
"You don't think I'm being crazy, Eds?" You ask as a tear rolls down your cheek. You know you want to do this, to feel more like who you're supposed to be. But you can't help wondering if this isn't the right choice. You don't know how your parents will react, let alone your friends and coworkers. They've known you as D/N for so long, as a girl and a woman. Will any of them accept you as Y/N, as a man? Your heart pounds, and your stomach is doing somersaults. Your hands tremble terribly as you wait for the first cut to come.
"Not at all, Y/N. I know it's scary, but you can't worry about what others are gonna think of you. Because as long as you're true to yourself, the right people will love you no matter what. Like I do." He leans forward to give you a light kiss on the cheek. His affirming words calm your nerves slightly.
Eddie's made every step of this process as easy as he can for you. The second you told him that you're trans, he immediately started using the name you gave him to call you. He's helped find resources for you to get a good doctor to start your transition. He gave you some of his clothes until you can shop for your own. He's helped you with binding your chest using bandage tape until you can get a real binder. But most of all, he still loves you and wants to be with you. There hasn't been a single second where Eddie let his affections waver, despite you being his 'girlfriend' for almost three years. He knows that he's meant to be with you forever, and he wants you to be happy above all else.
"Okay." You say with a small smile, before closing the blades of the scissors around your long locks. The metal slices through the hairs, making them fall in a big bunch in your hand. "Holy shit." You exhale, dropping the hair on the floor and inspecting the place where it used to be attached to your head. You suddenly feel euphoric, invigorated. You start cutting off more chunks, doing your best to keep the sides even. Luckily your years at beauty school come in handy in this scenario. Happy tears flow from your eyes as you chop every offending inch and end. It gathers on your shoulders when it doesn't pile on the tiles below. When you've taken off enough to satisfy yourself, you clean everything up so it doesn't look like a total disaster. Once you're finished, you brush away as much of the dead hair as you can.
"Wow. You look so handsome, baby." Eddie coos as he looks at you in wonderment. He means every word he says, you truly are the most gorgeous man he's ever seen.
"Thank you, Eddie. For everything." You smile like an idiot, admiring your new look while Eddie peppers your neck and shoulders with gentle kisses. But of course he gets some loose hair in his mouth, dramatically trying and failing to spit it out. "Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?" You ask with a laugh, setting the scissors down on the sink.
"Love me forever?" He asks, chuckling lowly when he gets the little cuttings off his tongue.
"You got it." You reply, leaning back against his chest. His arms move to wrap around your middle, holding you close in this joyous moment.
This happy little snapshot took place six months ago, but the rest of that day was far from pleasant. After you'd showered the itchy stray hairs off and gotten bound and dressed, you and Eddie went to your house to come out to your parents. The second they opened the front door, shit hit the fan.
"Oh, D/N. There you are, we were wondering when you were coming home." Mom says, her eyes widening as she looks you up and down. She ogles your chest, wondering where the swells of it have gone. And then she sees your new haircut. "Jesus, D/N! What the hell did you do to your hair?" She asks, almost angrily.
"I'll explain everything, Mom. Can we all talk in the living room?" You say sheepishly, feeling very self-conscious.
"Okay?" Dad says, a puzzled expression on his face. The four of you go inside, your parents sitting on the couch while you and Eddie sit in chairs across from them. "So, what is this about?" He asks while crossing his arms.
"Well, I've recently figured something out about myself. And I really hope you'll love and accept me for who I am." You pause, looking at their neutral faces to see if they change at all. "I...I'm not a woman. I'm transgender, so I'm a man. And I would like to go by Y/N from now on."
"What? Is this why you ruined your beautiful hair, D/N?" Mom asks in an interrogating tone.
"It's why I CUT my hair, yes. And please, call me Y/N." You speak as politely as you can while standing your ground.
"Oh, this is just ridiculous, D/N. You're not a goddamn man! You don't have a penis, I should know! I was there to cut the cord when you were born! You're a woman, end of story!" Dad shouts, his face growing red as he shoots down your identity.
"I don't have to have a dick to be a man. This is who I am, why won't you listen?" Your voice raises as you hold strong, though you can feel tears welling up in your eyes.
"Because you're talking crazy, D/N! You're a girl, regardless of what this freak you insist on dating may have told you." Mom chimes in, shooting Eddie a glare.
"He didn't tell me anything! I figured this out on my own! All Eddie has done is love and support me! Unlike you!" You shout, the tears coming down through your anger.
"Well, of course the psycho Satanist would support this insanity! D/N, I've always told you what a bad influence he is! Now, cut this shit out, stop squishing your breasts, and go put on some fucking girl clothes!" Dad orders, pointing upstairs at your room for you to go change.
"NO! I'm a man, and my name is Y/N! There's nothing you can do about it! I'll transition whether you like it or not, and I'm not going to stop seeing Eddie. I'm a fucking adult, and you can't stop me!" You scream, standing out of your chair.
"Fine. You're right, we can't stop you. But since you insist on deluding yourself, you can't live here anymore." Mom says calmly, a sickening smile on her face. She's convinced that this threat will make you give in to their demands.
"Fine! I'll go live with Eddie, then! I don't need this, and I don't need you!" You retort, taking Eddie's hand. "C'mon, let's go pack up my shit." He stands with you, though he hasn't said a goddamn word this whole time.
"You have ten minutes, and then we're calling the police. So make it snappy." Dad says, hammering the final nail in the coffin that signifies the end of your relationship with them. You don't care at this point, it's not worth putting up with their ignorant bullshit anymore. They have never been supportive of you or what you want in life. They've belittled your relationship with Eddie, and your pursuit of becoming a hairdresser. And any hobbies or clubs you enjoyed as a child were quickly squashed with their comments and criticism.
"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't even ask if I could live with you." You sigh, pulling your old suitcase from your closet. You remove any passable masculine clothes from the hangers and drawers, shoving them into the suitcase.
"It's fine, Y/N. I was going to offer anyway. I'm sure Wayne won't mind, and I'm certainly not letting you live on the street." Eddie says calmly. But you can tell he's boiling with rage beneath the surface. He goes to the linen closet in the hall to find some trash bags, asking you if there's anything he should focus on packing. You're mostly looking for clothes or anything with high sentimental value. Turns out it doesn't amount to much, but you don't mind leaving all the girly things in your overly-pink bedroom anyways. You definitely don't need them anymore.
You go back downstairs, placing your gathered things at the front door. "Mom, I need my legal documents." You state simply, knowing you'll need things like your birth certificate and social security card in the future.
"And why should I give them to you? They have our daughter's name on them, not yours." She replies, pleased with her snark.
"I am aware of that, but I'm going to need them and you damn well know that. They are my legal property, and I'll call the fucking cops myself and tell them you're withholding them from me. Or, you can hand them over right now." You cross your arms, staring her down.
"Alright, fine!" She gives up, heading into the study to retrieve the little folder where all such documents are neatly organized. She comes back, practically throwing the bundle of papers at you. "Here. Now, get out!"
"I will! And thanks for nothing, you are truly the worst parents ever. You have never supported me, or loved me. You just want to control me. And to that I say, fuck you!" You open the front door, stepping outside. Eddie loads your stuff into the van, and your father comes over to say one last thing. Something that neither you or Eddie will ever forget.
"This is all your fault. You corrupted our daughter, you fucking deviant. I just pray she'll see the light one day, and come back to us once she realizes what you've done to her." Eddie's face hardens, but he doesn't respond. You imagine he'd just end up punching Dad square in the face if he tries to speak.
"And one day you'll realize how evil you are for kicking out your own child instead of accepting them." You retort, helping your boyfriend shut the back doors to the van before getting in the passenger side. He turns on the engine, squealing out of the driveway to go back to his place. You can't help bursting into tears once the house you grew up in is no longer in view. "I'm sorry, Eddie." You sob, your face falling into your hands.
"What for, sweetheart?" He asks, looking over at you with concerned eyes.
"For everything. I know you didn't sign up for this. I'm just making your life difficult, and now I'm going to take up your space when there's already not enough to go around." Your chest heaves violently as you cry, you feel so many emotions at once. Anger, heartbreak, fear of what comes after this. But you also feel shame, and like you're burdening those around you.
"You cut that shit out right now, Y/N. I signed up for loving and supporting you no matter what. And I damn well intend to do it. You aren't taking up anything I haven't offered to you willingly. You're my boyfriend, and what's mine is yours. Okay?" He reaches over to rub his hand on your back, trying to calm you down.
"Okay." You say quietly, trying to slow down and breathe. It doesn't take long for Eddie to pull up to his trailer, and you find Wayne sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette.
Wayne notices you crying as you get out of the van, along with your new haircut. He's noticed you dressing differently the last couple weeks, but he's been waiting for you to tell him what's up in your own time. "What happened?" He asks, coming over to you.
"Y/N's parents kicked him out." Eddie says without thinking, and your eyes widen at him saying your new name in front of his uncle.
"Oh. Y/N, huh?" Wayne questions, giving you a once-over. You feel a lump forming in your throat, worried you're going to be kicked out of yet another home today. But Wayne just smiles, pulling you in for a bear hug. "It's nice to finally meet ya, Y/N." He says with a sniffle.
"Thank you, Wayne." You hug him back just as hard, unable to hold back even more tears. These ones are much happier though, it feels so good to be accepted by someone you've always considered a second father.
"Of course, kiddo. Let's get your stuff inside." He says, pulling away slowly.
"You really mean it, I can stay here?" You ask, somehow still doubting you're welcome to live here.
"Yes! You're always welcome here, Y/N. For as long as you need, forever if you want. You're pretty much family, for fuck's sake!" Wayne laughs, giving you a kind smile.
"I appreciate it, Wayne. You have no idea how much this means."
"Alright, alright! I'm lettin' you stay in a shitty trailer, it's far from The Ritz. C'mon, that's enough sappy shit for one day." Wayne insists, moving on to help with your stuff. 
And just like that, you officially became a part of the Munson household. Eddie emptied a couple dresser drawers for you, shoving his own clothes into the already overflowing ones. He made sure you had room for your toothbrush, shampoo, and other similar items. Anything else was given enthusiastic permission to be prominently displayed around his room, he wanted his space to become yours. Within minutes, this room he'd lived in all alone for years fell under the term he so lovingly calls 'ours'.
"How was work today, babe?" Eddie asks as you walk through the front door. He's relaxing on the couch, his head laying on the armrest. One leg is bent at the knee while the other stretches almost to the other end of the sofa. He's wearing nothing but some pajama pants, the waistband of his boxers poking out to say hello. A half-gone cigarette sits between two fingers on his right hand, and he brings it to his lips for a long drag.
"It was alright, got a couple odd looks from clients today, though." You sigh, putting your wallet and keys on the table. You've been working at the hair salon downtown, getting the job shortly before coming out to Eddie. Your coworkers are nice, sweet older ladies that took you in with open arms. Customers give you sour stares at times, or make the occasional comment. You try to ignore them, truly. But it's so hard to shut out the bigots when they make it a mission to let you know you don't belong. It's even worse outside of work. People often cross the street to avoid you, or call you 'fag', 'tranny' or 'freak'. Luckily Eddie isn't around much when that happens, you know he'd be getting arrested for assault left and right if he was.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. People are jerks." He gets up from the couch after stubbing out his cig, walking over to give you a comforting hug.
"It's fine. It's not so bad." You say unconvincingly. You nuzzle against his chest, trying to forget how awful today actually was.
"Y/N, I know what this podunk town is like. You don't have to pretend it's okay for my sake. I'm here to take care of you. So, if something's bothering you, please tell me." Eddie says sternly, giving you a serious look.
"Look, obviously it bothers me when people stare or call me names. But what can I do about it, Eds? We both know the people here are going to think what they want to. We're outnumbered. All I can do is pretend it doesn't get to me, otherwise they win." You reply, frustration lacing your tone.
He sighs, nodding in agreement. "I know, love. I just hate to see you treated so poorly. If people only got to know you, they'd see what I see." He smiles, raising a hand to cup your cheek.
"And what do you see, baby?" You ask, biting your lip through a smirk.
"I see a handsome young man, with the biggest heart in the world. A man who's kind, and thoughtful, and deserves everything he wants." He says sweetly, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. Your lips meet, and you melt against him instantly. Your arms go around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing your sides through your clothes. You stay like this for a moment, your heads turning languidly as your tongues roll against one another. He tastes so good, like tobacco and the candies he snacks on all day. He pulls away, remembering what time it is. "C'mon, darling. You've gotta take your binder off, and it's 'T' day." He gently reminds you.
"Do I really have to take it off? I don't wanna see them, Eds." You hold back a sob at the thought of being faced with your breasts again. You want to get them removed, but you haven't been approved for the surgery yet. And it's gonna be quite some time before you make it to that step in your transition.
"I know, sweetheart. But it's not safe to keep it on for so long. You know that. But I'll sing to you, 'kay?" He coos, brushing away a stray tear that's fallen down your cheek.
"Okay." You nod, your bottom lip quivering. As much as you love returning home to your boyfriend, this is the one thing you do every day that feels like torture. But he's right, you're already feeling the uncomfortable squeeze of over-use compressing against your chest. He leads you gently by the hand, all the way to your shared bedroom. He closes the door, standing in front of you.
"You ready, babe?" He asks, checking your eyes to make sure you're comfortable with him helping you. So far, you've allowed him to assist you every time in removing whatever you've been using to bind your chest. Whether it's bandage tape, or the proper binder you managed to get, he's made a ritual out of it. His hands will carefully remove your clothes from the day, and redress you in some comfortable pajamas. He sings to you the whole time, a semi-modified version of "Beautiful Boy" by John Lennon.
"Yes." You exhale sharply, waiting for his hands to reach for the hem of your shirt. He begins to sing, and you let the velveteen words flow from his lips to your ears. You focus on how gorgeous they sound coming from him, and appreciate how they're sung just for you.
"Close your eyes, have no fear. The monsters are gone, they're on the run and your love is here." He recites softly, pulling your shirt over your head. You lift your arms to help out, closing your eyes to avoid looking at your chest. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy." He continues, tossing your shirt on the dresser so you have it for tomorrow. He gets closer to you, caressing your sides with his fingertips.
"Keep going, Eds." You say, barely above a whisper. Your arms sit awkwardly, a couple inches outward from your body.
"Out on the ocean, sailing away. I can hardly wait to see how much you change. But I guess we'll both just have to be patient." Eddie slides his hands to the bottom of your binder, just barely slipping beneath the thick fabric. You breath hitches, another couple of tears falling down your face. You keep your eyes squeezed shut all the while, frantically nodding to tell him to just do it already. He lifts the sides of the binder, avoiding touching your breasts whatsoever as he pulls it over your head. A fresh rush of oxygen enters your lungs, but you can feel the lumps of tissue bounce against you. The feeling makes your heart ache, longing for the day where you'll never have to feel it again.
"Fuck." You mutter through clenched teeth, your stomach turning slightly.
"I know, angel. We're almost done, just bear with me." He soothes, his heart breaking at the pained expression on your face. "'Cause it's a long way to go, a hard row to hoe. Yes it's a long way to go, but in the meantime..." Eddie keeps singing, which slowly relaxes you. He reaches for the baggy band tee he set aside for you, unfolding it to bring over your head. "Arms up, Y/N." He asks politely, and you obey. You feel the comfortable material slip over your torso, large and loose enough to obscure the fact that you have anything on your chest at all.
"Thank you." You exhale, opening your eyes.
"We're not done quite yet, babe. But at least this next part isn't so bad." He takes your pajama bottoms from the dresser, and climbs into bed. "C'mere, love." He says, spreading his legs for you to sit between them. You do as he asks, after removing your shoes and hair-covered jeans.
You get in position, and Eddie hands you the little syringe and dose of testosterone for the week from the night table. You remove the cap from the needle, and bring the syringe to the top of the vial. You pull back the plunger to fill it expertly as you've done many times before. "Okay, all set." You state, putting the empty vial beside you on the mattress.
"Before you take your 'T', take my hand. Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans..." He trails off, reaching for your free hand to hold for a moment. You squeeze it tightly, taking a deep breath before you let go. You grab hold of your thigh, pinching the skin so you'll inject into the right area. Your breath shudders as you bring the needle to your desired mark.
"Mmm." You grunt as the thin metal stings when it punctures your skin. Eddie holds your sides again to keep you calm.
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy." He finishes his song, watching as the syringe empties into your body. You pull the needle out once you're finished, sighing in relief as you toss the vial and syringe away in the trash beside the bed. "Good job, baby. My brave, handsome man." He presses a kiss to your neck, holding you close as a few more tears escape your eyes.
"Thank you for helping me like always, Eds. You're the best boyfriend in the world." You say as you wipe the salty tracks away, sniffling lightly. You reach for the pants Eddie prepared for you, slipping them over your legs.
"It's the least I can do, darling. You mean everything to me." He keeps kissing your neck, setting your skin alight with his plush lips. "So, should we order some Chinese for dinner? We can get those massive egg rolls you like." Eddie suggests, as he does every Thursday, to reward you for being so courageous.
"You've read my mind, Eds. I'm starving." You reply, your stomach gurgling in agreement. You both leave the bedroom, and you plop onto the couch while Eddie places your usual order. Sesame chicken, with extra fried rice, and two orders of egg rolls. Your mouth waters at the thought of it. Hawkins may be lacking in many vital areas when it comes to cuisine, but if there's one thing it does perfectly, it's Chinese take-out. It takes about an hour for the food to arrive, and Eddie pays the delivery guy at the door.
"Dinner is served, darling." He says sweetly, taking the paper containers out of the bag, distributing them onto the kitchen table. You take a seat across from one another, pecking away at the food with your chopsticks. You chew mouthful after mouthful in comfortable silence for a while, allowing your hums and grunts to be sufficient conversation.
"So, what did you get up to today?" You ask as you start to feel full, realizing you'd forgotten to earlier. Eddie doesn't seem to mind, but you want him to know you prioritize him as much as he does you.
"Uh...not much. Did a few deals, took a nap. But other than that, I've just been waiting for you." Eddie replies, smirking before he takes a big bite of chicken.
"You're always waiting for me, Eds." You chuckle.
"Mmhmm, I'm a kept man now. All yours, baby." He laughs, setting down his container of food. "And I dunno 'bout you, but I'm ready to move on to dessert." He swallows, reaching across the table to take hold of your hand. Simple a touch as it is, Eddie's flesh meeting yours is absolutely electric. His eyes align with yours intensely, asking if you want to move things to the bedroom.
"You got it, babe. Just help me clean up." You smile, packing up the leftovers to shove in the fridge. Once everything is cleared away, Eddie swiftly pulls you into him. Your arms collide with his chest, and you slide your hands upwards to rest on his shoulders. "Still hungry, huh?" You ask, biting your lip playfully.
"You know it, sweetheart." His own hands wander down your back to squeeze your ass. You moan quietly at the sensation, quickly heating up in your pajamas. Eddie roughly presses his lips to yours. Another muted moan escapes you, and he pushes things further. He's slowly walking you backwards to your room, still kissing you the whole way. He moves on to your neck, nipping and sucking your flesh until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.
"Eddie." You whimper, savoring the warmth and sting of his tongue and teeth working your skin into dark purple marks. You let yourself fall onto the mattress, taking Eddie down with you. You don't even bother to close the door, Wayne's long gone for his shift at the plant tonight. You bounce slightly as you land, and you ignore the feeling of the sacks of fat on your chest moving with the rest of you. You don't want to stop enjoying this for anything.
"You doin' alright, darling? We can put your binder back on if you'd be more comfortable." Eddie offers, noting your body stiffening slightly after you landed on the bed.
"I'm fine, Eds. Just don't stop, please." You beg, wanting him to keep going. You're becoming very aroused with every passing second. You've noticed your sex drive has turned up significantly since starting your treatments. Eddie doesn't make a big deal out of it, but you can tell he enjoys it immensely. You two have always been pretty active, even prior to your transition, but the last couple months have taken things to a whole other level.
"I love it when you beg for me, such a good boy." Eddie says huskily while his lips brush against your chin. "Tell me what you want, babe. I'll do anything you ask." He says, his boner poking into your inner thigh.
"I want your fingers inside me, love. They feel so good." You whine, suddenly becoming very needy. You want him in every possible way, he's your everything. Your mind is swimming with lust-drenched thoughts. The anticipation of having Eddie touch you in all the ways you like builds rapidly within you.
"Take off your pants, baby, and lie down for me." Eddie says in a gentle command. He stands up, allowing you to get in position. You remove your pants and underwear, leaving your shirt on. You scoot backwards to lay your head on the pillows. He follows close behind, crawling over you on his hands and knees. Eddie looks over you, letting his eyes wander down your body. He focuses on your gorgeous face and lower half, noting your arousal on full view for him as your legs spread open. "So turned on already, and I've barely even touched you." He observes aloud, his gaze trailing back up to yours.
"Just for you, Eds." You reply, staring helplessly up at him. His hair hangs down on the sides of his face, brushing against you in a ticklish manner. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, inviting him to touch you again. He leans down, pressing his pillowy lips to yours. One of his hands rests at your hip, while the other travels to the place you've been wanting him this whole time. His long, calloused fingers graze your enlarged bundle of nerves ever-so-slightly, and you moan loudly against his mouth. He slowly drags his digits around the area, eating up every desperate sound that escapes your lungs. It's heating up quickly in here, a sheen of sweat beginning to lather itself along the backs of your knees and under your shirt. He breaks away from your mouth, moving on to your neck again.
He spreads your slick around, repeatedly sending jolts of pleasure through you. "I love your sexy noises, Y/N. They drive me absolutely crazy." Eddie coos between kisses on your throat. His cock is unbearably hard, leaking precum into his boxers as he waits to have his turn. Hearing you moan and whimper his name pushes him further and further toward losing it altogether.
"Please stop teasing, babe. I need you." You whine, bucking your hips upwards when he runs over your entrance. He firmly presses you back down with his free hand.
"Of course, darling. Anything you want." He says, before pressing one finger into you. He watches your face twist in pleasure, curling his knuckles within your walls to stroke your sweet spot.
"Eddie. Give me more, go faster." You moan, holding his stare as he gradually picks up speed. He does as you ask, feeding another finger to your hungry insides. He amps up the pace as well, wet noises mixing in the air with your vulgar exclamations.
"Such a good boy for me, taking my fingers so well." He praises, smiling down at you lovingly. "You're so handsome, and sexy, the most amazing man I've ever known. Life meant very little until I met you, Y/N." Eddie has a habit of getting rather sentimental when he showers you with affection. You love every second of it, knowing that you both mean so much to one another is a powerful thing.
"And you're all of those things and more, Eddie. You've been so supportive of me, helping me every day as I become the man I want to be. I don't know where I'd be without you." You reply, keeping your thoughts straight to meet his adoring words with your own. You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him hard to turn up the temperature. Your other hand snakes between your bodies, running down his bare chest and stomach, feeling every ridge and curve of muscle and soft skin. You keep traveling downwards, ghosting over his throbbing erection.
"Fuck, baby. Want me that bad, huh? So goddamn needy." He groans, continuing to work you over with his fingers. "Gotta be a good boy and cum for me before I fuck you. You know that, sweetheart." He breathes out with a dominating smirk, his lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. Your mouth falls open, taking his hot exhales in. Your head lightens at the limited oxygen between you, and you fully take hold of his dick through his pants.
"I just love how you feel, darling. You fill me up so well. My big, strong man." You goad him, building yourself up towards your prerequisite orgasm. You can't get enough of everything you and Eddie do together. Groping, kissing, dirty talk, among other things. It's like a drug, leaving you craving another hit again and again. "Take your clothes off, baby. I wanna touch you." You plead, feeling your high approaching at a steady pace.
"Well...if you insist." He chuckles, reaching down to pull his pants and underwear off with one hand. He kicks them away, and you immediately take his exposed cock in your grasp. "Shit, you weren't kidding." Eddie groans, making you laugh quietly as his eyes roll back into his head for a moment. He's already so wound up from hearing and touching you, it won't take much to make him lose control.
"C'mere." You say abruptly, lacing your other hand into his thick hair. You get a good grip, and yank his head downwards so you can have access to his neck. You latch on, sucking a large hickey onto his supple skin.
"God, you're gonna be the death of me." He whimpers, savoring the sensation of you attacking his neck and jerking him off while holding him down. You stay like this, letting yourselves focus on every single thought and feeling that bubbles up from your animalistic movements. You're getting so close, and you can't stop moaning against Eddie as you keep biting and licking him as he did earlier to you. He can sense your insides fluttering around him ever-so-slightly as your body prepares for release. "Almost there, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me, we can cum together." He huffs, his body coated in sweat as his stomach begins to tense. He's going to make quite the mess, and he definitely looks forward to it.
"Just a little faster, baby. I'll be such a good boy for you. I'm so fucking close." You whine in his ear, waiting for the knot within you to finally snap. It's just seconds away, all you need is a little push. He obeys your request, thrusting his fingers deeper and harder into you. "Oh, god! Just like that- fuck!" You cry out, the tangle of pleasure splintering off into thousands of flaming strands throughout your body. Your hips buck upwards, causing you to brush against Eddie's dick in your proximity. His fingers slip out of you from your squirming, and your juices manage to spill onto his length in the process. The feeling of the warm fluid, along with your fucked-out expression sends him flying over the edge.
"Y/N!" He grunts as his pelvis jolts against your hand. Eddie's eyes screw shut, leaning on his arms to keep himself upright as his orgasm takes over. His load lands warmly on your abdomen, marking you as his in sticky streaks of white. The idea of this gives you an intense thrill, to know you belong to him, as he belongs to you.
"I love it when you cum on me, baby. It's so fuckin' hot." You pant as your high recedes into nothing, letting Eddie's head and dick out of your grip. He gulps in air, rolling over to lay beside you while he catches his breath.
Your knees are still tented, legs spread open lazily. Eddie reaches over to the night table, pawing for one of the many packs of smokes he has lying around the trailer. "And I love frosting you like a donut, darling." He chuckles, pulling two cigs out of the pack. He sticks them both in his mouth, flicking his lighter to ignite the ends. He passes one off to you, which you gladly take.
"Must you always be so crude, Eds?" You laugh, taking a long drag of your cigarette. The nicotine hits you swiftly and easily, dizzying your head.
"'Fraid so, hot stuff. What you see is what you get. You know you love me for it." He smiles, turning his head to look at you.
"I love you for lots of things. Well...everything, actually." You clarify, exhaling a large cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling.
"Everything? Even when I'm being an ass? Or when I'm all grumpy because I haven't eaten all day? Or when I hide your keys, so you can't go to work unless you make out with me?" He asks, providing many examples of behavior he exhibits that may or may not irritate you to no end.
"Yes, Eddie. Even with all of those things, I love you more than I ever thought humanly possible." You say kindly, taking his empty hand in yours.
"I love you too, Y/N. You're my whole world." His thumb runs over your knuckles. You both continue to smoke, laying beside each other just like this. The minutes tick past, the paper and tobacco dwindling down to nothing as a gray haze fills the room. You put your spent butts out in the ashtray, and Eddie returns to his spot between your legs. He gazes at the mess he made on you minutes ago, wiping up one of the thick droplets with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, waiting for you to lick it off. "Open." He commands.
You listen to his orders, keeping perfect eye-contact as you accept his release into your mouth. Your tongue wanders around the pad of his thumb, rolling to taste the salty fluid. "Mmm." You moan as you swallow, he's always tasted so good.
"Good boy." Eddie praises, slowly pulling his thumb out of your mouth. You take his dick in your hand once more, finding he's already rock hard again. "Fuck, Y/N. Someone's getting greedy." He chuckles through a groan.
"I can't get enough of you, baby. Can you blame me?" You say sweetly, giving him a loving look.
"I guess not, my love. You're pretty damn addictive, too, if I'm honest." He replies, moving your hand to take over. He brings his tip to your dripping hole, rubbing against it to amp you both up for a moment.
"Eddie, please don't tease." You whine, your hips stuttering as you're still sensitive from earlier.
"Then beg, Y/N. Use your words, and you'll get what you want." He says darkly, continuing to spread your slick around with his tip. He moans at the sensation, using all his willpower to hold back from plunging into you.
"Please fuck me, Eddie. I need your cock inside me, so fucking bad." You plead, finding no reason to hide the intense desire in your voice. Eddie would probably keep holding back if you did.
"You got it, sweetheart." He replies, smirking at your whimpered assertion. He pushes his dick into you, taking his time. You moan as he fills you to the brim, stretching your walls deliciously. His breath catches at how warm and tight you are around him, swallowing hard as he bottoms out. "Shit, you're so perfect inside, baby."
"You always say that, darling." You reply in a cheeky tone.
"Well, pardon me for paying you a compliment." Eddie laughs, lowering his head to pepper kisses on your neck while you adjust to him. You run your hands up and down his back, tracing his shoulder blades and spine with the tips of your fingers. You sigh blissfully at how tender he's being, worshiping you with his lips as your insides relax.
"Mmm, wouldn't mind a few more while you're at it. Preferably after you start moving, though." You say in playful attitude, which draws his head up to look at you with a dangerous grin.
"Someone's bossy today. I thought that was my job." He almost growls, pulling out and slamming back into you on his final words.
"Fuck." You moan out at his tip hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Your nails dig into his back, crescent-shaped marks sure to be left behind. "Sorry, babe. I'd hate to put you out of work." You giggle, waiting for him to pick up the pace.
"You make me sound like a prostitute. Should I be offended?" He chuckles back, thrusting roughly once more.
You gasp, finding it difficult to keep up this flirty conversation. "Not at all, Eds. I'd never be able to afford you if you were."
"I'm that good, huh? Maybe I oughta start charging." Eddie thrusts again, just as hard and deep as those before it. He's warming you up, distracting you so he can blow your mind to bits when he really gets going.
"Charming as always, darling." You quip, rolling your eyes. You're hoping he'll speed up soon. All this buildup is driving you insane.
"Man, you're acting brattier than usual. Do I need to punish you, angel?" He asks, half-warning, half-asking you to let him release the darker side of him that he keeps tucked away most of the time. You can see in his eyes that he really wants this, and you'd be lying if you pretended you don't want it just as much.
"Do your worst, Munson." You smirk, prepared for whatever he has in store. His hands abruptly move to grip your waist and your throat, making you gasp in surprise. His rings dig into your hip, firm enough to leave bruises. His other hand waits patiently to squeeze your neck, biding its time for the opportune moment to choke you.
"You're gonna regret that, sweetheart." He says in a husky tone, suddenly thrusting roughly into you and setting a cruel pace.
"Jesus- fuck, Eddie." You moan, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer. His dick slamming into you feels amazing, but you want more. "You gonna use that hand, or is it just for decoration?" You're working overtime in antagonizing Eddie, pushing his buttons. The way it makes him frustrated, and have to put you in your place, gives you a massive rush.
His jaw tightens at your taunting words. Eddie's eyes bore into yours intensely, and he wants to wipe that smug smile off your goddamn face. He begins to squeeze the sides of your throat, harder than he usually starts with. Your head lightens at the lack of oxygen, making you groan as loud as you can around his large fingers. "Naughty boy, you know better than to talk to me like that. But I wanna hear you say it. Who's in charge, baby?" He demands, continuing to fuck you senseless as he waits for you to answer him. He loosens his grip on your throat so you can speak.
"You are." You reply, still smiling wide as you don't really mean it. He knows you're still messing with him, so he takes hold of your chin. He squishes your face in his grip, almost hurting you. He puts himself as close as he can to you, raw, animal instinct taking over. You feel like a rabbit caught by the foot by a wolf, utterly helpless to your demise. Your heart pounds beyond belief, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
"Who's in charge, Y/N?" He growls, clenching his teeth. He can feel how wet this little game of yours is making you, and the sensation of you lubing him up more with every shove of his cock into you is melting his brain.
"You are." You reply, poking your tongue out to lick one of his fingers. You still haven't submitted to him, if anything, you want to keep going further.
Eddie grunts in frustration, pulling out of you altogether. He flips you over onto your stomach, pinning your torso down while your ass is angled upwards. Before you can fully register his actions, his hand comes down onto your left ass cheek. It lands on your flesh with a loud crack, making you yelp. You would squirm, but Eddie's holding you firmly in place using all his strength. "You've been a bad boy, sweetheart. Now, I want you to tell me who's fucking in charge here." He says, before smacking your other ass cheek just as hard.
"You are, Eddie." You say as the buzzing sting sits on your flesh. You imagine there's large, red hand prints on your behind. And all you can think is how much darker you want them to be.
"Again." He demands, spanking you again, a little gentler this time.
"That one was weak, Eds. Try harder." You retort, and he sure as shit gives you what you ask for. He slaps the other side, even harder than the first time. "Fuck." You whimper, the pain from his calloused hands smacking you is exquisite.
"Had enough yet, baby? Or are you still misbehaving?" He asks, leaning down to speak in your ear. His tone is low and feral, waiting anxiously for you to surrender. But you can't give in that easily.
"I think you're holding back, darling. You wanna be in charge? Then fucking do it." You say seductively, and you know you've got him hook, line, and sinker.
"Your wish is my command, angel. Don't say I didn't warn you." And without another word, he rams his cock into you with extreme force. He takes hold of your waist, still pinning your torso to the bed. Your face presses sideways into the pillows, making it hard to breathe.
"Oh, god!" You cry out, eating up every way Eddie uses your body. He fucking you unbelievably hard, possibly harder than he ever has, though you've driven him near this point a few times before. Your hands fist the sheets and blankets below you, trying to keep a good grip. Eddie's hands alternate slapping both sides of your ass as he jackhammers into you. You moan and call his name helplessly, finding your second orgasm sneaking up around the corner.
"Do I need to ask you again, or are you gonna be a good boy for me?" Eddie says breathlessly, sweat dripping down his forehead as he goes harder than he ever thought possible. You've made something within him snap, unlocking an entirely new side of him he didn't know he had. He's always been rough, and dominating, but this is different, primal.
"You're in charge, Eddie. You're so big, and strong, and you fuck me so good. Keep going, baby. I want you to ruin me, tear me apart." You whine through your moans, you truly don't want him to stop until you've snapped in two.
"Good boy, that's what I like to hear. Gonna fuck you til you can't walk, fill you up with my cum. You belong to me, angel, nobody else." He spews filthy words at you, which mingle together with the slaps of glistening skin and the loud smacks of his hands landing on your ass over and over. Tears fall from your eyes, he's gonna make your butt so sore you can't even sit down. And you're gonna thank him for it.
"Only you, Eddie. No one else can make me feel this good. No one else can satisfy me like you." You reply, your lustful confessions pushing him further toward the edge. His thrusts are growing unfocused, and you can tell he's almost there. You're close behind, but you need him to do more to get you there at the same time. "Choke me, Eds. I wanna cum with you, feel you mark me as yours." You beg, hoping he'll give you what you want despite disobeying him tonight.
"Only because I love to hear you beg, sweetheart." He chuckles, laying his body over yours. His elbow keeps you trapped in place, while his hand creeps up to your throat again. He cuts off your oxygen, amplifying every sensation as you feel a wave of ecstasy washing over you. You let out a strangled moan, your knees buckling as your high takes you down into pleasure-filled depths. Your walls squeeze on Eddie's dick, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck, Y/N. Such a good boy, soaking my cock." He groans, his hips bucking erratically into you as his load spurts into your throbbing hole. Your release mixes with his, threatening to spill out once he leaves you. You both can't wait to taste it, it's always sweeter than honey.
Eddie lets go of your throat, allowing your noises to be heard at full volume. He's still thrusting into you, turning your fluids into a sticky paste that's dripping down the insides of your thighs. "Jesus, Eds. You're gonna make me cum again if you keep going." You warn, your legs trembling in the aftershocks. You're still sparking, which can easily turn into engulfing flames if he doesn't stop.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, angel." He says, taking your words as a challenge. He loves making you lose it as much as he can, licking you clean afterwards is one of his favorite things. He thrusts faster again, groaning at how sensitive his dick is. It's threatening to go soft any second now, but he can't help himself. He needs to feel you lose it again.
"Eddie, oh, God! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" You shout, clamping down on his cock as your third orgasm makes you explode from the inside out. Another dose of your arousal flows out, making even more of a mess that's already run down your legs. You can't breathe for a good ten seconds, your eyes rolling shut as you almost black out.
"Shit, that's a good boy." He groans, allowing himself to fall out of you. His body goes backwards, landing like an exhausted starfish behind you. Your ass still sits in the air, and you pulsate helplessly around nothing as stars block out your vision. You can't think, or speak, all you know is spent bliss. You both lay in your current positions for what feels like hours, breathing heavily while you try to get your hearts to slow down. "You good, Y/N?" Eddie asks, bringing his head up to check on you. You still haven't moved, and he can see the streaks of cum gleaming all over your entrance and thighs. He watches your hole clench beyond your control, forcing more of your cum out of it in lazy drips. "Holy shit, that's a pretty picture." He says in awe, his eyes dilating with lust.
You feel his weight shift on the bed, and are taken by surprise when he starts licking all around your crotch and thighs to clean you up. "Fuck!" You yelp at the overstimulation, not expecting Eddie to use his tongue on you, especially so hungrily. Your body jolts every time he brushes your bundle of nerves, and you make endless whimpers in the process.
"We taste so good, baby." He groans, bringing his fingers over to scrape some of the nectar off your leg. He crawls up the bed, slowly presenting his digits before your lips. You open your mouth without thinking, and you suck away every last bit of the fluids. You moan at the musky flavor, allowing yourself to lay down flat on your stomach as your mind returns to reality. 
"Well, that was amazing, to say the least." You finally speak, though you're still feeling rather foggy.
"It sure was, babe. I'll be right back." He says, standing up off the bed. He walks down the hall completely naked, returning with a damp cloth from the bathroom. "Roll over, Y/N, I gotta clean you up." He says kindly, kneeling before you as you flip your body. Your ass rubs uncomfortably against the sheets, making you wince. "Sorry, love. But to be fair, you did ask for it." He chuckles, bringing the warm cloth to your lower half, wiping away any excess cum and sweat.
"Oh, I know I did. And I have no regrets." You smile back, slipping your pajamas back on once he's finished. He tosses the rag into the hamper by his dresser, and closes the bedroom door. He climbs back into bed beside you, lighting another round of cigarettes. "You were fantastic, by the way. Remind me to piss you off in bed more often." You chuckle, taking a long, deep drag from your cig.
"Please do. I had a lot of fun doing that. I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, worried he may have gone a tad too far.
"No, not any more than I wanted you to be. I would've told you to stop if I couldn't take it." You reply, scooting as close to him as you can possibly get. You plant a warm kiss to his lips after he inhales from his cigarette, allowing him to blow the smoke into your mouth. You accept it into your own lungs, before letting it flow out through your nose. "I love you, Eddie." You speak sweetly, giving him a meaningful look.
"I love you too, Y/N." Eddie says, taking hold of your free hand.
"Forever and always." You say together, smiling brighter than the sun in your contented afterglow.
The end.
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deadghosy · 10 months ago
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“𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫” 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 ||𝐅𝐓𝐌!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Warning: transphobia from the parents, it’s fluff I swear.
A/N: the trend may have died and I’m late to it. But it popped up on my feed and I couldn’t help but do this 🫶🏾
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Tom Riddle
Honestly he stayed quiet. So quiet it was unsettling how he stared at you up and down and walked past you
But when he talked to you, it was different from the way you thought he would talk to you.
He’s actually a respectable gentleman and asked for YOUR name. Not the name your parents told him
So he just nodded and kept track of how you are as a person
Honestly he may be confused but he has the spirit
Mattheo Riddle
What’s that? You use to be a girl/you are a woman? Well he doesn’t see one at the slightest
All he sees is the most handsome man he ever seen in his damn life
Literally raises his hand towards your parents at the dinner for them to shush as he starts to work his charms on you
Literally makes you feel in your own little world
He would glare at your parents and remind them that he is the son of the dark lord
So they can shut the fuck up and let him at least talk to the most amazing man he just met
Draco Malfoy
“All I see is a man.”
He’s so blunt with it 😭 he was supportive of you before knowing you were trans and if made your heart swell because he looked so serious
His father knew what you were but stayed quiet.
Though even if your parents tried to dead name you and try to bring up your past.
He’s not listening a single bit
Blaise Zabini
Honestly ignores your parents talking about how you look and how your past self was
He doesn’t care. Because right now he is memorized by you.
He’s shaking your hand and smiling asking for your name and maybe number
You can’t help but like him as he is smooth with his lines
And it hits off with you two talking about each other
Talking to you feels good without your shitty parents running their mouth about their daughter son.
Theodore Nott
I feel like he would be the most confused of them all since I headcannon he didn’t really much understand the English language before Hogwarts but got better… he still has slight trouble with the culture and traditions.
But when your parents had deadnamed you and called you their daughter. Thoughts ran through Theodore’s head
“Daughter?? [deadname]?? Man? He’s? She’s? She is a he?”
Just so confused to the point he said out loud that you are a boy to which you laughed at how confused he looked
Either way you two spent time getting to know each other and duo I explained to him about how you felt in the wrong body and how you felt more comfortable for who you are
You helped him see a lot more things in different perspectives
Lorenzo Berkshire
He just awkwardly stood there at the meeting when your family introduced you in the way that made you seem uncomfortable.
So he talked to you one on one and started to know more about you
When you told him about your transition, he was very intrigued and asked even more about you
He made you feel like your own person as he just laughs at your own joke.
He could sense your parents shaking their head at how their SON was acting.
But you two didn’t care. It was only your world and his.
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