Blackjay doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Played By: Numb
Custom Title: 欲望 || LUST
Joined: 5-March 18
Last Seen: Jun 4 2018, 11:53 AM
Local Time: Jun 24 2018, 01:36 PM
53 posts (0.5 per day)
( 0.14% of total forum posts )
May 29 2018, 03:52 PM
He was not able to tell him what was bothering him so much. Him, his mate, how could he not tell him? Was it that he lacked trust in Foxscar? No, that was impossible. Blackjay would have trusted Foxscar with anything and everything, he would have made the man responsible for his entire life if he could and he would have been perfectly fine with it, so it certainly was not a trust issue. Perhaps it was love? Did he not love him? No, that wasn't it, the very idea twisted the ebony tomcat's heart and left him shuddering violently in his nest, wanting to vomit out all the contents of his belly. He fucking adored Foxscar to the point he wanted nothing but to be his and his only, and he wanted Foxscar to be his as well. He wanted nothing but to live with him and raise a family with him, to raise their many future kids considering how... Rather intimate Blackjay was. He loved Foxscar with all of his heart and more, so what was the problem here?
Trauma. That was what it was, but god forbid Blackjay from allowing himself to display vulnerability.
With the passing days, it started to become more evident that there were little lives growing within the transtom's womb, they were small, yes, but he could feel them wriggle and he could sense the mild bloat of his midsection. Every time a little paw would kick him he would coo down at the feeling, so agonizingly fond of these little souls that drained him so much. As of late, he was almost entirely unable to function properly. He couldn't hunt, he could not walk for too long, he was always sleeping and sickly, his eyes glossy and his mind constantly burdened with fatigue. He was sick, and he was pregnant. He was sick because he was pregnant.
For once he wanted these accidental kittens, his heart was swelling with love and he was aching to be able to hold them close and lap a tongue over their tiny little faces, he wanted to cradle them and watch them fight for a teat to latch on to, but he had only felt this sort of love once before and it ended disastrous. The scars over his belly reminded him of the foul rage his ex mate had reacted with when he told him he was pregnant for the first time, the scars on his belly reminded him of when his precious babies were literally beaten from their womb in a fit of blood, pain and violent tears.
Now that he knew Foxscar had affairs with other cats, he could not help but have doubts.
What if Foxscar didn't love him? What if he didn't want him anymore? What if he didn't want these kits?
Shuddering and curled in on himself, the healer was quivering horribly at the thoughts which plagued him, and he had enough of keeping them all to himself.
The tom's head would finally lift from the ground, craning over in order to peer outside of the den, desperately trying to find and beckon his lover near, not wanting to be alone as his heart sank incessantly, leaving him agonizingly pained and empty.
"Could you come here? Please?" He sniffled a bit, mitted paws lifting to rub at eyes in order to fight back the faintest formation of tears that had begun to manifest themselves there.
God Dammit. He hated hormones and love-induced paranoia
May 19 2018, 12:27 PM
Everyone knew he had fucked up real bad by now. So soon after having lost a litter by his own hand, the ebony-and-white transtom found himself once again with the debilitating symptoms of child rearing. After having been surrounded by mocking Shadowclan eyes and being shrieked at by toms and mollies alike, accused of murder and of other vile things which hadn't even happened yet in regards to his unborn kits, Blackjay no longer felt comfortable in his birth clan. Funny. He was now starting to realize he never really did in the first place considering Ravenstar hated his guts despite all his efforts and now all of his friends were dead.
They didn't seem to believe him when he said he wanted these children, but now as he ventured beyond Shadowclan territory on his lonesome, his anemic state leaving his head hanging and eyes weakly glossed over, he was starting to have his doubts. Last time he had been gifted with a litter he wanted to birth and raise, his mate at the time thought otherwise and, well, it was the reason why his belly was crissed crossed with scars and it was the reason why he started his routine abortions.
In truth, he loved Foxscar. He loved the way he prowled through the world like nothing could stop him, he loved how the ebony caracal's eyes contrasted so heavily against his pelt and loved how inherently powerful he was. He loved Foxscar in all of his charismatic glory, his sweet talk, teases and all, every little thing he would do was so incredibly welcomed, but yet, Blackjay was terrified.
He wanted these kits. He wanted to raise them along the wildcat and build up the next generation of Lionclan, he wanted to be the man who would continue his lover's legacy for as long as Fox would keep him, he wanted to be curled around a litter of healthy, mewling babies with the caracal looking over them with fond pride.
But did Foxscar think the same thing?
Oh he was stupid to think he'd be able to share a nest with a man and expect himself not to leave without some sort of side effect, and so here he was.
For the second time in two months.
Standing on Lionclan’s border, it was obvious something was draining the transtom. His lids were droopy and his posture low, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in eons but yet he was shivering with an incessant energy, one thought haunting every single second since his discovery.
What if Foxscar doesn’t want this?
May 16 2018, 06:03 PM
Good god he really fucked up now, and he had fucked up a thousand times before but now really did it this time.
It had been two weeks since he had so gruesomely poisoned kittens from his womb in a sight that was horrific for many to see, he remembered the situation so vividly for it still haunted his dreams at night - the blood, the bile, the corpses, the tears, he was guilty but he refused to show the clan any hint of remorse that may have been seen as vulnerability, besides, for so long after the disaster he was too weak to do such a thing. The children he had murdered had leeched him of all his nutrients and red blood cells, making him horrifically anaemic and weak to the point he was now exeunted from his warrior duties in order to be monitored by medicine cats to fill his body back up with it's desperately needed vitamins and minerals.
The second he had recovered enough to be able to exit camp and hunt along with the warriors, he went straight back to it, leaving for Lionclan, for a rather charming fellow he knew loved him. Struck with grief at the passing of his best friend Wally, the transtom needed some sort of release, he needed comfort and he needed to feel okay again. So, he had spent a night with the Lionclanner, shared a nest with him and now he had returned with haunting symptoms.
He had gotten pregnant enough times to be able to detect it early on, and he damn well knew how it happened - he wasn't stupid, but now he felt disgusting, so awfully cruel and vile that maybe the pennyroyal should've taken his life when it had the chance.
He wanted to throw up, and so he did right in front of his paws where he sat.
May 11 2018, 03:30 PM
His self-inflicted miscarriage had left poor Blackjay weakened beyond his intentions, his body receiving symptoms he had not experienced before - fatigue, dizziness, tingling, hell, even the want to eat fucking dirt was plaguing him and he had no idea as to why that was happening. Not at all taking into consideration he had lost count of how many kittens he had poisoned and purged from his womb, not at all thinking about how much they had leeched off of his body. Once again the black-and-white tomcat found himself on Lionclan borders, this time without any sort of roundness to his flanks or the awful smell of milk to his coat, all signs of pregnancy long having faded from his person.He wasn't doing too good. Along with the severe anaemia, the warrior had to face the slow, agonizing death of one of his best friends along with constant judgement from his younger brother. He needed a break from everything, he needed to get away from it all.
That was when he remembered the melanistic wildcat who had aided him with his goal and the promise he had made to visit him.
Even despite his illness, the transtom had left Shadowclan territory in hopes to find this man and perhaps give thanks, maybe find comfort, mostly to be entertained. Sitting down and letting a pink tongue lap over a white-tipped paw, the Shadowclanner waited to see if he would be greeted by a familiar face, whiskers twitching as he waited.
Apr 7 2018, 10:05 AM
//Warning for abortion, miscarriage
This scene had happened before. It had happened enough in Blackjay's history for the male to know without the aid of a medic that he had gotten pregnant. The familiar routine of nausea racking his body upon his waking hour, the sudden intensity of his emotions, the cramping in his gut and bloating around his sides that were filled with the unborn, these were all things that he had felt before. It had happened again and he knew what was needed to be done for the sake of himself, for the sake of the father who did not know of the existence of these unwanted children.
Having gathered Pennyroyal from a certain melanistic caracal, Blackjay was prepared to end this unwanted misery, to purge his body of its unwanted burden but still, despite having used the plant to poison the fetuses from his womb before, he still hesitated to inflict it upon himself. Something within wanted to be sentimental, wanted to be generous. A piece of his heart wanted these children to make it until birth, until apprenticeship and further on but no.
That was a future only good cats dreamed of, and he was far from good.
Not wanting to risk getting caught, Blackjay had carried himself out of camp and allowed himself to nest underneath a fallen tree, a violet and green plant locked in his maw as he'd slowly breathe in preparation for what was to come. It was never easy, especially physically considering the side effects. It was best to just have it done quickly, and so, the ebony-and-white tomcat began crunching on the dry herb, taking in its bitter taste into his throat and swallowing it all down, immediately the poison from the stems left his stomach churning, but that was not the effect he was looking for.
He had to wait, and surely, the effects came.
They came with a wave of unbearable pain, the muscles of his stomach spasming, clenching and releasing as it attempted to purge the womb of what it contained, squeezing through blood and tissue before the kittens came - minuscule, hairless and underdeveloped, the ears and toes had not even formed yet. Dead upon their forced, gruesome delivery. The pain left Blackjay crying even if he had felt it before, while he would miscarry children on one end of his body, the other end was throwing up due to intoxication, the scene mixed with vomit and blood, four small bodies by Blackjay's hindquarters as he'd twitch and shudder, the pain of the poising still lingering in his body, nausea still heavy in his heart, tears running in streams from his face.
Somehow, he had done all this without making a single sound.