It went well! At least 100 people attended, families dogs a solid portion of Glasgow's trans community. There was a really lovely atmosphere, nice weather and a very cheerful celebratory vibe.
After short speeches from the ballhaver and the large dyke (my wife), the ballhaver was given a chupa chup and blindfolded (execution style). The balls were then duly kicked; it made a surprisingly loud dull thumping sound. She fell to the ground to loud cheers and there was a moment of silence while Taps played on the flute. The large dyke wore solovair urban hikers.
Arrived early to find the crowd already gathering, so the kick got off to a prompt start. Following some introductions from everybody and some cheery folk music from our flautist (my wife!) we got on with the kick.
I think we got good contact, the top of my boot making a good solid noise on impact. Very good atmosphere all round, people stayed to chat for a while. Were it not January it would have been an excellent opportunity for a picnic.
10/10 queer event, would happily kick anybody in the balls in the name of community.
7am: the pressure is getting to me; I wake up and drink half a bottle of diet iron bru from my bedside table; roll out of bed, and psych myself up in the mirror - "you can do this my little pogchamp" I say to myself over and over until I decend into a stupor.
8am: I play an hour of Okami on steam to replenish my chi levels
9am: I look at my balls for a while
10am: I spend 20 or so minutes trying to decide what to wear before realising it's the subartic in midwinter and I'm going to have to dress for -2C° regardless of what I choose and opt of my trusty black Schott thermal padded winter flight jacket and a pair of loose, warm Uniqlo trousers to give my testicles room to breathe.
11am: crashing out, texting my friends to arange a substitute kickee, an understudy, anybody so I can just become one with the crowd and not go through with it
12am: the homies have arrived, I'm drinking redbush tea in a small cafe by the park; god is in his heaven and all is right with the world
12.15: "you must be here to watch me get kicked in the balls?"
12.40: a circle emerges, from within the circle a palpable energy focuses like a lens down unto me and I feel like I'm gonna pee my pants a little
12.50: cheers begin, several complete families with dogs arrive - more friends appear and assort themselves into a gathering of 'real heads' ready to watch my groin be dessicated by the firm lace of a women for woman woman with a foot loosed through the gates of war as Augustus saw fit the dispatch and return of his troops from far corners through the blessings of Janus.
12.55: I think I left the stove on
1pm: Short introductions are made, grace is shown, beautiful flute music accompanies the gathering
1.03pm: what is left of my dignity disappears up my inguinal canal; I fall to the ground and languish a moment. I can feel it more in my lower chest than I can in my groin but the humour and adrenaline lift me and I'm laughing on my feet again soon. I kneel for the last post.
Characters: Named male Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Summary: Ingis Hagane has been through so much as the Warrior of Light, even going to the far end of the universe and back. After a nightmare and a flashback, he desperately needs comfort from his partner, Thancred. If only to keep himself from unraveling completely.
A fic commission done for Snommunism who wanted Thancred comforting their WoL after he has PTSD from In From The Cold and Endwalker events in general.
Tags: Nightmares, PTSD, Blood & Gore, Post-patch 6.0: Endwalker, Hurt/Comfort, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Self-Hatred, Established Relationship, Crying During Sex
AO3 link
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Gauntlet-clad hands tightening around a massive aetherial blade, the balled fists holding the weapon more akin to a katana than the frosty bastard sword that it was…
His mind balked in a desperate attempt at movement, yet his normally ground-eating gait kept up a carefully-measured pace, barely propelling him forward, trailing him inexorably towards his companions… The Scions stared at him, warm gazes slowly turning to confusion…
His icy sword struck out as if through its own volition, a quick swipe that struck one Scion after the other with its full, deadly length…
Blood spattered and seeped out to stain the pristine snow, the patterns almost pitch-black against the white background, dark, dark, dark as the thoughts swirling through his skull…
How they deserved it, how they were fools to stand in his way…
How he was now free, free, free from their petty demands and ever-present whining…
He was free…
And he felt wonderful…
Ingis Hagane jolted upright in bed, shivering and gasping, drawing shaky breaths in through lungs that finally, finally followed his commands. With a trembling hand, he ran fingers through his hair, thanking the gods that it was short and black as opposed to long and blond… even if the white tips were soaked with his own sweat. By the grace of the gods, his violent awakening wasn't enough to disturb Thancred beside him, the other man only grumbling a bit and nestling deeper into the covers of their shared bed—he wasn't sure how he would be able to face Thancred, not after a nightmare like that. Seeing Ingis in a state like this would only serve to worry him and that was not something they needed right now, not when the both of them were still healing from the experience of being flung to the far edge of the universe and back.
Yes, Ingis would let him rest while he stubbornly dealt with his problems by himself, as usual.
Even though he was still trembling from the nightmare's aftershocks, he kept his movements slow and careful as he slipped out of bed, easing up with a mindfulness that one wouldn't expect from someone with his build as an Au Ra. Managing to totter onto feet that were still getting reacquainted with the fact that he was the one in control of them, he cast a final, guilty look back at Thancred before making his way to the kitchen.
Though his movements were shaky and hesitant the whole short walk to it, he still managed the journey… even if he had to lean against the darkened walls and jumped at every little blood-like patch of shadow on the way there. Eventually, he stood before a cabinet and unsteady fingers pried it open, selecting a glass at random from the collection within. Making his way to the faucet, he filled the cup and, only when water sloshed forlornly against the rim of it did he stare down into the depths, murky in the gloom of night, dark and still.
Like the blood that painted the snow… So very, very dark…
His grip slackened and the glass fell as if in slow motion, tumbling down one ilm at a time before shattering inexorably against the tile flooring. A piercing, clear noise that rang in his horns as it stabbed its way right into his brain.
The pointed crunch of bones breaking beneath the weight of a Blasphemy… Blood spreading out from beneath the twisted abomination, a crimson pool dotted with the lonesome fragments of its former owner, sharp pieces of a once-being now little more than broken and scattered offal…
Overwhelmed by the vision of past events in Thavnair, Ingis fell to his hands and knees before the shattered glass and its spreading puddle of water. As an unwilling whimper squeaked out from between his closed lips, he wrapped his arms around his head, attempting to curl in on himself with such desperation that he seemed like an ouroboros, an Au Ra without beginning or end. Subtle movement started, an unconscious rocking motion in some vague attempt to calm himself down.
“Ingis… Ingis!”
Startled more by the loud noise than his own name, he jolted in place before slowly, slowly uncurling himself, just enough to take a peek at who had called for him. It was then that he noticed a light had been turned on and, through squinting eyes, he saw Thancred standing over him. Though he was wearing a simple t-shirt and pants for sleeping in, his right hand clutched at his side, looking to wrap his hand around his non-existent gunblade. Even so, it took Ingis taking in the wary way he was looking around to realize what was running through his head.
“No burglars. Just… just me.”
His voice croaked out, weak and shaking. Pathetic. Still, it was enough for Thancred to lower his guard, shifting danger-sense to concern for his well-being.
He couldn't help the hot shame that crept across his cheeks.
“What happened? Nightmare?”
“What else would make me curl up on the kitchen floor like some baby?” He also couldn't help the acidic words from pouring forward, taking his anger out on his partner for being so stupid as to still care for him when he was in such a state.
“So that's a ‘yes’.” Though Thancred’s voice was still rough with sleep, his dry wit was apparently still on full display. His hands reached out towards Ingis, but paused before touching his skin, uncertain. “What do you need?”
Ingis shuffled closer to him so those wonderful fingers finally made contact, letting out a shaking breath of relief. “This. Just. Touch me.” His mental voice hissed at him that he shouldn't need something like this, that he was the godsdamned Warrior of Light and should be able to just grin and bear it.
He ignored it, as best he could.
Ignorant of his inner thoughts needling away at him, Thancred wrapped strong arms around Ingis, drawing him into a close hug. Once he was firmly settled in against him, his hands went to work, rubbing soothing circles into his back, providing just enough pressure to help ground him in the here and now. “How’s this?”
“...Good.” He croaked out in response, his whole body sagging into his hold, giving in to the comforting motions. “...Could be even better, though.”
The fingers stilled for a moment against his back before going back into motion. “How so?”
Ingis’ arms finally fell from around his head to instead cling to Thancred with everything they were worth, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “I might… need a bit more comfort.”
Recognizing the request for what it was, Thancred pulled away just enough to give him a look. “You’re sure you're in a good enough condition for that right now?”
“I might… need some help in getting back to bed.” Ingis admitted, nuzzling into Thancred's collarbone. “But… need that even more right about now.”
“If you insist.” Thancred said before his arms shifted, moving to support him rather than merely hold onto him. In that way, they both rose to their feet, one pair firm and sturdy while the other was shaky and unsteady, and made their way back to their bedroom.
Once they were safely back in the confines of their room, Ingis peeled himself off of Thancred to collapse onto the bed instead. He made to remove his own sleeping clothes, but his hands were still too shaky and uncoordinated, resulting in him mostly just bunching up the cloth around his skin and scales alike in frustration. He continued like that until he felt a hand press against his own, settling it.
“Here, let me.”
Thancred leaned in then, his hands slipping beneath Ingis' shirt to push it up and over his head. Ingis, meanwhile, could do nothing other than lean back and huff, frustrated that he couldn't even manage to undress himself without help… though those thoughts quickly fled when Thancred gently pressed his lips to one of his horns. His next words were gentle and quiet, knowing that his mouth was right up against Ingis' equivalent to an ear.
“Stop being such an arse for once and let me take care of you.”
Despite everything, Ingis couldn't help the giggle that burbled up out of him. “Okay, okay, guilty as charged… Keep going, I’ll be good.”
Another kiss against his horn and, though he couldn't see Thancred's face with their current angle, he could hear his quirked eyebrow in his next words. “Promise?”
“As long as you give me what I want, then yeah.” A pause before he hurriedly blurted out, “But just for tonight,” before he could rope his future self into acting like a proper hero should.
“I suppose that's the best I’m going to get.” Thancred mumbled with mirth evident in his tone. That settled, his hands moved once more, pushing down Ingis' pants and smallclothes both. Off the clothes went to one side so they wouldn't be in the way. His attention then shifted to drinking in his partner’s appearance, something that he never grew tired of.
No matter how uncomfortable it made Ingis to be perceived in such a way.
While his method of combat demanded he be muscular, those same features were marred by the numerous scars he had picked up throughout his adventures: one carving a plus sign over his right eye, a couple of claw marks gouging into his right shoulder, a neat albeit horrifying hole over his heart, and a couple of gunshot holes in his right ankle, not to mention the additional claw markings on his back. All reminders of everything that he had been through.
All reminders of his burdens as the Warrior of Light.
He turned his attention away even as Thancred loomed closer to him, running a too-delicate touch over the scars on his shoulder. “It doesn't hurt, right?”
“No…” He ground out through gritted teeth. “Just… don't know why you like them.”
“Because they're a part of you, obviously.” Thancred replied as though it was an irrefutable fact of the universe. “Sure, it took a bit of getting used to when you first got them, but it would just be odd to see you without them now. They're as much a part of you as these scales of yours.” His hand moved to trace the scales on his chest, light and dark comingling, visible proof of his heritage as both a Raen and Xaela.
“Exactly. They're a part of me.” He insisted, finally turning his serious gaze onto him. “Why do you even like me when I'm such a fucking wreck that I can't even get myself a glass of water without breaking down?”
“Ingis…” The name was said as part of a loving sigh. “You’ve been through a lot, more than most. You stopped several longstanding wars, helped out countless nations… Hells, we went to the edge of the universe itself and came back to tell the tale. After all the wars, all the fighting, all the horrors, I think you're allowed to be a bit fucked in the head.” Thancred dipped his head down then, pressing a kiss to that patch of scales on his chest. “But that's alright. After all the time we spent together, I knew full-well what I was getting myself into by dating the vaunted Warrior of Light. And I'm telling you that I’m here to help you work through all of it, no matter how long it takes to do so.”
In the face of such sincerity, Ingis found that he had no words. No, all he could do was tear up as he stared at this wonderful, loving, stupid man like he would disappear at any moment. His usual snark and sass withered and died, powerless in the face of true, undying affection. Eventually, a single sentence came to him, acceptance and deflection both.
“...Just take me already.”
“As you wish.” Thancred said with a chuckle, an expression of warm affection rather than one of mockery. He quickly moved to remove his own clothes before reaching into their nightstand to withdraw a small, stoppered jug of viscous lubricant. Popping it open, he dipped several of his fingers into it, ensuring a thick coating surrounded them. That done, he reached down and eased a single finger into Ingis.
He immediately drew in a soft hiss of breath as the finger pressed into him, bringing a light, but familiar burning sensation to him. It was a feeling that was welcome at that moment, a slight bit of pain to help ground him in the here and now. As such, he was soon bucking down against that finger, drawing it deeper inside of him… but still not finding it enough for what he craved, what he needed.
“More…”
“You really are needy right now.” Thancred teased light-heartedly as he obediently added a second digit, spreading them apart to ease him open further.
“Everything else before now didn't clue you into that?” Ingis snapped back, his words ending in a pleasurable groan as those wonderful fingers opened him up. Tingling heat began to radiate out from him, gathering in the pit of his abdomen. Between his legs, his cock began to perk up, his body eager for what it knew was coming. Some dim part of his mind was pleased to see Thancred in a similar state, his own dick starting to grow hard. “Just. Just keep going. Give me another.”
Thancred quirked an eyebrow as if doubting his insistence, but still acquiesced, adding a third finger inside him.
Ingis hissed, louder this time, as the pain became more intense, mingling with a wonderful sense of fullness that was everything he wanted. Still, as Thancred worked his way in deeper and his hips rolled down to meet those digits, the burning began to melt away, his body growing reaccustomed to the familiar actions. Instead, there was only that liquid fire of pleasure growing in his stomach, blanking out his brain. That and the sensation of fullness began to take over the forefront of his mind, pushing away most thoughts of his nightmare and his almost constant self-loathing.
But it still wasn't enough.
No, he had to make his mind go completely silent, quiet that spiraling voice that made him want to tear apart all the good things he had built up since saving the universe. He had to feel filled to the brim, Thancred's cock leaving little and less room for anything other than raw, animal pleasure.
He had to feel the physical, basal feeling of being wanted.
“Enough. I'm ready for you.”
“You know your body best.” Thancred replied as he slid his fingers out of him, leaving a massive, almost painful ache that the hazy memories of the nightmare swarmed forward to fill. Ingis did his best to ignore them as Thancred slathered his erect cock with lubricant, groaning as he rubbed his sensitive flesh. Only once it was fully covered did he move his hands, one grabbing at Ingis' hip while the other lined himself up.
And then blessedly, wonderfully, he pushed inside of him.
Ingis groaned then, the sound petering out into a whimper as he finally, finally got the sensation he had been craving this whole time. The sensation washed over him, filling his overworked mind with nothing other than the feeling of cock pressing deep into his body. His own arms reached up to drape over Thancred's shoulders, nails digging over furrows he had previously carved into his back during sex. Thancred hissed against one of his horns, but still kept his pace glacially slow, as if there was a possibility of him breaking beneath him.
Considering everything that had happened so far, he very well might.
“I’d say you need to trim those nails of yours, but I happen to like the scars you leave behind.” Thancred murmured in a voice of mock-annoyance, the gentle tone underlying his words betraying his true feelings.
“...Even when I leave you a bleeding mess and we have to wash the sheets?”
“Especially then…” Thancred trailed off as he sheathed himself fully within Ingis, huffing out breaths against his horn as he let the both of them grow accustomed to the sensations washing over them.
And then, slowly, gently, he began to move again.
Ingis nearly cried at how gentle he was treating him, handling him as though he might shatter glass-like at the slightest wrong movement. He didn't deserve such kindness, such care. What he deserved was to be pinned down and used, fucked within an ilm of his life, not… Not this loving care from his equally loving partner.
“...Ingis, look at me.”
He didn't even realize he had turned his head away until he heard—and listened to—the command.
“You deserve this, alright? No matter what you think, you deserve to have nice things in your life, myself included.” Thancred smiled then, warm and comforting as he squeezed at his hip, grounding him further. “No matter what you think about yourself, I love you.”
Ingis couldn't help it then—his breath hitched sharply before leaving him in a low, quiet keen. Fat tears welled up in his eyes, quickly pooling up enough for gravity to take hold and roll them down the sides of his face. His fingers dug that much deeper into Thancred's back, as if afraid that he might somehow decide to vanish into thin air if left untethered. “Keep going… Please, p-please, just keep going, Thancred.”
“Alright… Just, keep what I said in mind. For whenever you need it.” Taking Ingis' resulting whimper as agreement, he started moving again.
And, under him, Ingis melted.
That feeling of fullness overtook him once more, burying those sweet, soothing words Thancred had just told him, packing them away for him to overexamine and needle over when the bad parts of his brain were functioning again. Now, though, now was only the almost saccharine sweetness those simple words held, wrapping him up in a candy coating that he had no chance of breaking free from. It was soft, it was gentle, it was Thancred.
And, gods help him, he loved it.
The tears kept flowing, much-needed catharsis after the night’s events. His partner kept moving inside him, parting him open with the same level of care that his words contained… And speaking of his words, Thancred continued murmuring them, plying him with painfully-sweet assurances in between harsh drags of breath. Ingis found he could only whimper and whine in response, all ability to form sentences lost under the tide of love he was just barely floating on the surface of. Throughout it all, that addicting warmth still pooled and gathered in his core, his neglected cock smearing drops of pre-cum against his stomach.
Between all the emotions, all the physical sensations that were melting his damnable mind, he couldn't last long.
A burbling, wet keen squeezed out of him as he came, his cock pumping ropes of his cum out to spatter across his front. As his muscles tensed up, he could feel Thancred growing close too, his movements getting more erratic and halting. Shortly after that, he felt him still again, an explosion of heat inside him punctuating his partner's orgasm. For a good, long moment, they stayed like that, harsh panting causing their breaths to comingle as their muscles slowly relaxed, as their racing hearts calmed.
And then Thancred carefully slid out of him, rolling over to settle beside him.
Slowly, Ingis curled in against his side, leaning in to idly nuzzle at Thancred's cheek, taking in the heady scent of sex that enveloped the two of them. “...Did you really mean all that? Everything you said, I mean?”
Thancred smiled that loving, soothing smile once more, lifting one of his hands to run through Ingis' hair.
“Ingis, I can assure you that I meant every. Last. Word.”
big fan of characters with abandonment + attachment issues so profound that they leave claw marks in everything they touch but would sooner gnaw off their own leg than admit they just want someone to stay for once. in a totally normal well adjusted and not at all projecting way of course.
At long last, after months of saying "I'll bring my camera next time" and then forgetting, I finally had my gear with me when I encountered the MARTA Bus Stop Bluescreen of Death. YAY
To anyone whose yesterday was long and heavy, for whatever reason. I hope today is kinder, and I hope you get some rest and do whatever you need in order to take care of yourself. A heavy yesterday is not something you just put down, it’s okay to be completely drained, and not really knowing how you’re feeling. So please take your time and do things that are soothing to you. 🌸
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