#and androgynous monsters too apparently

[friszil]

the golden ratio

[dunmeshistash]

Idk if this has been asked before but anything you wanna say about Lycion? like I love how he's basically a trans allegory

I love it too! I love Lycion so much, all the canaries to be honest, they're my favorite gender.

Here's his extra from the adventurer's Bible for those who haven't seen it

I think people smarter than me have made great analysis of his character and how it relates to being trans/body dysmorphia. But I'm really happy he got a body where he feels more comfortable in, and I love the bit from the beastmen monster tidbit where Laios judges him for not being an accurate furry and Lycion calls him an wannabe lmao. Get his ass Lycion

I am also completely in love with his friendship with Fleki. Makes me really happy to see an intense friendship between opposite genders cause it's so rare. And they're both so precious.

Getting a little off topic but I can't with the canaries... Did you know Otta is Butch/Masc presenting? I couldn't tell because the Elves are all so androgynous I assumed the short hair was normal but apparently its an active choice for her to look more masculine I love it.

It's more obvious in the modern clothing drawings

Sorry I got side-tracked, it's cause these are the canaries to me

[threepandas]

Bad End: Heroic Collection

New Haven wasn't a major metropolis. Some big city like Delhi or Tokyo, Jakarta and the like. It was big for the area. A major hub for commerce and crime on a local scale. But Nationally? INTERNATIONALLY? Not even close. No matter WHAT the great ambitions that haunted the Mayor, late at night, may tell you.

So, really, there was NO fucking reason for any A Listers to be here.

NONE.

Our biggest exports were fancy fucking jams and that one fashion line I couldn't pronounce. We had honest to God Jam festivals in the fall. It was a circuit, Mayor gave out awards. There were pies. Firestrike always ate himself sick. Agent always laughed at him. I... Fuck, my head was ringing. I'd hit that last building HARD. Was pretty sure I tasted blood. Not... not sure if that was because I busted something in my mouth or...

Over my comms, I could hear my teammates fighting. Trying to hail the Alliance. If we could... could just hold on...

Long enough for the major players to GET here?

Then what? I had to wonder. Staring at a burning bus in front of me. It was half way lodged through Mrs. Brahimi's shop. Please, God, let her and the workers have got out all right. I'd been there just this morning. She made me those stuffed flatbread things. Said I was still too skinny. Should rest more.

I use the twist remains of a book return to lever myself to my feet. Book..? Oh. I'm by the library. Which..? Fuck. Main one. That's city hall.

Smoke rises around the city I've lived in all my life. Fires everywhere. I'm supposed... supposed to be a hero. But I can barely stand. Feel sick as the world sways. My body is one big bruise. Gotta... gotta keep fighting. Helping. Save people.

In the distance, I can hear screams.

I'm coming. I promise. I'm coming!

I make my screaming body move. Stumble. Catch myself. Then keep going. The hiss and spit in my ear tells me that my communicator is probably half broken. I don't try it, in case that breaks it the rest of the way. Wrench doors from half crushed cars to free trapped civilians. Lever wreckage, hold it with trembling limbs, so people can crawl to safety. Run. Please, god, RUN!

We aren't strong enough.

He's here, The Collective.

A hivemind super threat. Alien supposedly. So far above my team's pay grade we know basically nothing. The kind of thing we were expected to never realistically see. We're nobody's. Fuck it, we're HAPPY being nobody's. It meant we got to go home each night. Didn't face The Horrors. Like him.

He CONSUMES.

Hungry. Trying to fill some void that's never going to fill. Supposedly a planet eater. Gutting worlds for resources, materials, to continue his own expansion. Now fixated on Earth for it's continued refusal to die. For its defiance. Some A+ sort of monster, to our high C rank. At best.

Fuck... we dealt with HUMANS. Fought gimmicks and tech. Little fish in our little pond. Now this tsunami was bringing the ocean to US and it was all we could do, to swim and survive.

I leaned against a half smashed car. Braced myself against it, more then anything, then started pulling pot shots. I... I was gonna black out soon. With a concussion like this? Probably wasn't gonna be waking up. Especially if those THINGS found me before a friendly did.

All across the city I called home, The Collective had Drones tearing the place apart.

They'd almost be pretty. Tall, elegant, androgynous lookin, supermodel twinks in battle armor. Drones apparently covered their lower face. I'd know the "commander" by their uncovered face and "use of adornments". Useful! Except they could fucking SWITCH on command, so you have to take out ALL of them.

Because they weren't a collection of different soldiers.

THEY weren't a THEY. That? Was a fucking HE. Singular.

You don't consider each of your individual cell as people. Each follicle of hair. Why would HE? God damn it. It was like fighting a giant. Against Gods. They just kept coming. And my ammo? Was not endless.

Worse. The drones had stopped looking. I don't know WHAT they had been searching for. But now? They started to converge on me. On city hall. Fuck. I... I couldn't even really stand anymore. My vision was blurring. I knew for a FACT my shots were shit. But dense as they were crowding? It seemed enough. Kept them back.

Three cartridges left.

Two.

Only one more...

The Alliance was coming. Half my team had gone silent. I could hear tears in the voice of Tech, back in the office. They had our life signs. Built into our armor. I could only imagine what mine looked like. Prayed, like I hadn't since I was a kid, that the others were just unconscious. Safe somewhere.

Someplace this nightmare couldn't reach them.

I doubted I was that lucky.

Tech was begging me to hold on. Giving me ETAs. And... And I was out of bullets. The block half full of Drones. I had escrima sticks. A fucking tazer. It would have to do. Sticks came out, as I swayed to my feet. No longer letting the car behind me hold my weight. What's a little... let's say, hundred or so, on one? Eh?

Bring your friends. Let's make it a fair fight.

I'll go easy on you.

Bravado until the end. Remember, never know who's watching. You are a symbol. Before you are a man, you are their HERO. Don't you DARE let them down. Even if you die. Especially when you die. B.. Bravado until the end. Plaste on a smirk and say a one-liner, we got hope to shoulder.

I took down about three Drones... I think... before the rest swarm me.

Feel hands pinning my arms. My torso. Everything. A weak point between the panels is ripped open. High grade military fabrics doing jack shit against their impossible strength. The distinct pinch tug of a needle in my skin. Cold spreading. The sudden exhaustion of a powerful sedative. I... am gone.

Time... is blurry.

Now and Then running together in my senses. My brain. The concussion doesn't help. Or... or didn't? It feels... gone? Gone-ing? Oh... look, sky. Clouds. Pretty. Wasn't I standing? I am standing. No... no being dragged. Chair? Not chair. Stairs? Carried. Pretty window..... where am I? Fuzzy. Bluzzy fuzzy purple beans~ he he he~ oh! Those are the... watch'ma call it! Gucci chairs! That rich lady had! Neat. Plurble.

Ouch! Why'd you pi...?

My mouth is dry as sand. But suddenly? I am hyper aware. The floating drift of my mind VIOLENTLY gone, replaced by alerted and focus. Drones surround me in a vaguely familiar hallway. Shit. I think it's that rich designer's place. My helmet is off, but my mask is still in place, thank god. The Drones stand far to close for my liking. Their many eyes, amused.

So glad to entertain, you Fuck.

I am frog marched down the hall. Damn near dragged. They were too smart to restrain me with my own cuffs, unfortunately. So my hands are bound behind my back with something tight I can't get a good feel off. Bastard secured it to my belt, too. Great.

The Collective's "Face" is surrounded by what must be every jewel in the city. Piled high in some vague sorting pattern I refuse to even try and comprehend. He's trying on rings. One on every finger, to see what matches his skin tone. Looks good. Already, he has a pearl stud and some earrings he's decided he likes. He looks up as I'm dragged in, and I realize immediately what one of "a few other differences" between him and the Drones are...

It's the EYES,

They GLOWED.

Metallic almost. Nearly neon. They reflected the light in a way the Drones simply did not. It made their face... horrificly predatory. Made for WATCHING, somehow. Unnerving and haughty. Beautiful still, but uncomfortable to be near.

Sitting up on a table that basicly swallows the room, dead center like a show piece on display, with one long leg tossed over the other and no fucking shirt on? The Face looks almost carefully, artfully, staged. To maximize some "haughty yet coy, alien prince who maybe wants to fuck you" shtick.

Does... Does he not realize I'm NOT one of the usual opponents? I mean. Flattered at the "join me! The Darkside has sex and cookies!" set up. Always fun. Classic, really. But, like? I would be... at BEST... a solidly MID goon.

Also "NO".

Gonna preemptively throw that out there. Maybe some expletives for flavor. Suggest someplace sunless to shove it. SOLID "No". Good try, though.

Around me, the Drones are shaking with silent laughter. Staring down at me, their pale eyes dancing with amusement. It's creepy as hell. Unnerving to be the center of attention like this. For this many eyes, utterly in synch, to surround and watch my every twitch. Act fascinated and amused, like I'm some little animal performing tricks.

The Face hasn't dropped his Seduction to the Darkside routine. If anything, he seems delighted by the defiance. Which... yeah, that tracks. It's why he's harrasing out planet to begin with. That one's definitely on me. So, better question? Not that I'm not glad and all? Why the FUCK am I not dead.

"And lose my HERO? Perish the thought~" drawles The Collective, the posture light and lazy, even as something dangerous threaded itself through their tone. It sounded... possessive. But that couldn't be right. "I would NEVER do such a thing! In fact, we are going to have to be far more careful with that little processor of yours. Far too fragile. Just the one, too. Horrifying, really."

Thanks. Just what every guy loves to really make 'im feels special. Insults.

Fucker.

More laughter from all around me. I grit my teeth. Come oooon, Alliance. Where the hell ARE you guys!? Could REALLY use a rescue! The hands holding me still are drifting. Fucking handsy. Damn near stroking even as they hold me immobile. They're looking for the clasps and buckles on my armor. Have already found the obvious ones. Fingers oh so casually drifting over, to grip, flex, and tear them apart.

I do NOT like how loose my armor is starting to feel. Barely able to hold on. Protect me. Limited as that protection may be. I think I'm developing a horrifying empathy for clams. Crustaceans in general. Anything that gets slowly pried from the safety of it's shell, too certain doom.

The Face casually tosses the rings he was playing with aside. Tens of thousands of dollars bouncing off to God only knows where. He slides from the table to stand. Shit. He's huge.

The androgynous twink supermodel thing he has going on? Fucking LIES. Twists your perception of how, EXACTLY, strong the Face body IS. He clears seven feet easily, is muscled in that distinctly "never see me coming until it's too late" sort of way all the ninja types are.

The tattoos. It's the FUCKING tattoos! They give the illusion that he's slimmer then he actually is.

It HIDES MUSCLE MASS.

I can't tell if that's vanity or strategy and I hate it. Glare as he sashays towards me. Hips rolling in that elegant catwalk strut. I'm forced to my knees. Because of course I am. How ELSE will the bastard loom and gloat? Though really, weak as I currently feel, it's more that the Drones holding me up? Stop doing that. My knees more or less just give up on their own.

"Like what you see? You're staring so intently~" He mocks. If he were being genuine, I'd call it teasing. Flirtatious. But I know better. "It IS a pretty body, isn't it? I worked hard on it, you know. All sort of fun little details~ Might honestly be one of my favorites. If you're good for me, I'll let you explore it~"

THERE it is.

Darkside. Sex and cookies. Sign up today. Fuck you and not in the fun way. Keep your hands to yourself, Collective. You're not convincing me. You could tell me the sky was blue, and I'd make three presentations with a PowerPoint, on why you were a liar. No, still No, and a hefty fuck off No for spice.

Three steps away. Two steps. One.

A man that tall and dangerous? Frankly did NOT need heels. Figures he'd wear them anyway. Sharp enough to kill a man. Right infront of my folded knees. I refuse to look up. No more fucking games. Did have to wonder, though, if those pants... if they even WERE pants? Were painted on or not. Very tight. Looked vaguely metal yet leather.

Shit.

Fingers, splayed wide as they run themselves through my sweaty and probably bloodstained hair. Couldn't have been nice to touch. Wrong angle and just a touch too big to be a Drone. Light as a lover, sweet almost, soothing. Before it inevitably tightens, gripping the strands. Honestly not as hard as I expected, didn't even hurt.

Still, my head is forced back.

Back and back and back, forced to arch my spine, hang awkwardly at some forty-five degree angle. My thighs and abs already screaming. A Drone grabs the back of my armor and, with an almost casual yank, my chest plate is violently snapped free. Both tossed to the floor away from us.

"There we are~" the Face hums down at me, eyes nearly hypnotic in how the light moved from within, grin full of sharp and deadly teeth. "No more of that ugly thing in the way. I much prefer this~"

"Tell me, Little Hero, do you remember? Becoming mine."

No, I certainly do fucking not. What the HELL is he-!? From behind the Face a Drone steps. Dressed differently to the others. Casual clothes. Like... actual street clothes. If they weren't GREEN I never would been able too-...

In horror, I watch as the pigment of the Drones skin melts away to a middling average. So utterly nondescript a blend of ethnicities that it's genuinely hard to place, but won't stand out no matter where he goes in the city.

I... I had seen that face.

SAVED that man.

Thought he was CUTE! T..Thought WE were having some sort of MEET CUTE! Oh God. That was at the festival. I was out of costume. Saved him from getting crushed. Then my teammates handled everything before I could slip away. So I just... stayed. Showed the cute tourist the festivities.

We ate FANCY JAMS, YOU FUCK!

I pined our that cute tourist for WEEKS. Was UNBEARABLE. Tech threatened to shove me off a roof! Oh my god.

Laughter.

Dozens of mouths, laughing in perfect sync. The noise layered and bouncing strangely around the room. Deeper then it should be, higher as it swings. Like a radio or voice modulator that someone is messing with. A momentary loss of control. My anger fizzles out to fear. Oh... oh yeah...

I forgot I was fucked.

At.. at least I know why?

A step forward. Past too close and now basically in my lap. A foot on either side of my knees. I try not to think exactly where my face would be pressed if I wasn't dragged back, to hang near painfully arched, so he could lean down and I could be forced to make eye contact. That way lay madness.

He moved his other hand to my face, cupping it. Dragging his thumb possessively across my mouth. He hummed, pleased.

He pressed closer, sliding down my front to his knees, straddling my lap. REALLY hoped that WAS, in fact, a weapon in your pocket there, buddy. Because I am not liking the handsy direction this is going, nor have I come to terms with my meet cute being a monstrous planet killing warlord. Not feeling sexy, my guy.

....okay, a LITTLE sexy, but that is hormones and we ignore those.

Fuuuuuck, wandering haaaaands! Now would be a GOOD TIME for door kicking rescues! I do NOT want to learn anything new about myself today! I want to go HOME. Sleep forever, maybe! Have a burrito the size of my head! Oh god. Think unsexy thoughts. Math. Sad puppies! Sad puppies doing MATH!

The Collective had dragged me upright. Pressed my face right up against their Face's bare skin. All I could smell was expensive cologne and man. Warm skin. Oh god, I am so gay. This is hell and I am very, VERY gay. If evil, why sexy hot hot hot? Hormones are making very convincing arguments. Horny brain says let's make terrible life choices.

No! Nooooo. Stop it, Me! We are fucking better then this! God damn it, you trainwreck, you are a ROLE MODEL! Act like one! (But horny...) (NO!!!)

God I was never going to mock the fuckers who hesitates at the "sex n cookies" speech again. Persuasive mother FUCKER!

"Aah~" he sighed contentedly, far too close to a moan for my sanity's liking. Hands having finally found the hidden zippers of my undersuit. Slowly dragging it open. "You are FAR too cute~♡"

"I can't wait to get you off this worthless little rock. Back to ME. I'll have so many WAYS to take care of you~ Backups and rudimentary supports we can set up, at least until I get you something proper."

Horrifying. Deeply Horrifying. REALLY never wanted to know what terrified and horny felt like, but here we are. Distantly, I hear thunder. There's no clouds. A flash of red through the skies. Green followed by metallic purple. Oh thank fuck. Keep his attention. Just... just keep his attention.

"We'll use me as a base. Keep you in stasis. Away from all these ugly, dangerous things~! Just you and me. Perfect. BETTER. Infinite and beautiful. I'll make all sort of bodies just for you to play with. Even let you keep this one! If you want. It'll be a precious memory for us, of where you began. How we met."

A mouth on mine. I can't breathe. Can't escape the arms wrapped around me. My protests do little more then waste oxygen. I feel light headed. Come one, team Alliance! He's here! HE'S HERE!!!

"You're going to be MINE, little Hero. I finally figured it out. What I was missing. It was YOU~♡! My beloved, delicate, little thing~. I'm going to take SUCH good care of you."

"Forever~"

[monster-slut-memoirs]

{{ MINORS DNI -- Monster Fucker Smut }}

Incubus 101

FOUR

"Now that you mention it, Master, you're not what I expected either..."  Faz's taps his plump lips, puzzled. Sending out his left hand, he swirls it into the air, and in a poof of black smoke, a tablet appears in it. Tapping a purple finger over the touchscreen at lightning speed, he assesses his 'data'.

"Sam Wallace. 34. Divorced. Heterosexual." Faz reels off. Then turns the touchscreen for you to view and scrolls through a collection of your top most watched porn videos and erotica reading list and finishes with a list of 'bedroom preferences', and honestly? All seems accurate and in order. Except for one thing—your profile picture—it is from your long-unused fakebook account. It contains a picture of your 2012 skiing trip to Andorra—a photo of your now ex-husband posing on the slope before a stunning Alpine backdrop. 

"Did you think I was going to be a bloke?" You ask. 

"Bloke?" 

"A man? With a cock?"

"Oh, we don't categorise by gender or sex." Faz quickly defends, though it's easy to see through the PC lie. "...We're not supposed to anyway..."

It becomes glaringly apparent that the tech department from Faz's agency had wholly misread your data. 

Sure, you read a lot of BL webcomics. Your favoured porno was a gang bang with a gaggle of slender younger men that maybe looked a little bit like Faz. The name you went by since the age of fourteen was unisex, Sam and not your given name, Samantha, and your profile pictures had historically always been of your ex-beloved, who was a man in his early 40s. 

"How can I send you back? There seems to have been a big misunderstanding." 

"Uhm... Fill the progress bar." 

Placing your face into your hands, you groan. "How are we supposed to do that?" 

"Oh, I just have to make you cum until you're spent," Faz says with an astounding amount of casual confidence. 

"And how are you going to do that?" You ask, unenthused. 

"My oral scores are pretty impressive if I say so myself," Faz smirks, placing a hand on his androgynous-shaped hip. "Oh, and this." With another plume of black smoke, the tablet vanished. It frees Faz's hands, and in one swift tug at the front of his black thong, it effortlessly falls away to reveal his package in all its glory.

You blink. Your teeth champing due to the speed at which you pick up your gawping bottom lip. 

"You like them like this, right?" He asks, confidently displaying his cock, and turns his hip to give you a better view of the profile. 

Unsurprisingly, it was purple but with a blushing magenta helmet, glistening with precum. Down the left side pulses a juicy-looking vein. As for girth, from the root to its head, it's consistent and undoubtedly thick enough for a pleasing fill. His balls don't sag too much, but they do appear rather full. You gulp, unable to keep the thought of burying this cock down your throat to empty them. Its length was also... perfect, if not a little more than you were accustomed to. Likely, a satisfactory seven inches. It was flooring how perfect a cock Faz was blessed with. It was what you liked in the most textbook way imaginable. 

Now you squeeze your thighs together, wondering what he can do with it…

<<<THREE | FIVE >>>

[mozillavulpix]

a bunch of hugtto plotlines that had absolutely no reason to go that hard

aka “the parts that emotionally devastated me”

apparently it’s 5 years old now

Homare having like honest-to-god PTSD after an ice-skating injury, and not being able to become a Precure in the first episode because she was terrified to jump to reach the thing she needed to transform

just, fucking, absolutely everything about Henri. An androgynous ice-skater who likes wearing women’s clothes, has a whole arc about being tempted by the villains because he’s terrified of the onset of male puberty, snapping out of the villain’s control, and then getting to be a Precure himself

also Emiru’s brother is the conservative guy who rejects Henri’s behaviour but then they say actually he was just like that because he’s super-closeted gay and they end up having a relationship

One day Hana is feeling inadequate compared to her friends and those feelings prevent her from transforming. which then makes her self-loathing even worse

That night she starts bawling her eyes out to her mom, realising for the first time that it’s totally possible to dislike yourself and how you turned out as a person

so the mascot characters don’t come from a magical world, they come from the future. the future is also a dystopia and they came back in time to prevent that from happening to the present too

there’s one episode where two girls arguing with each other fuels the bad guy to turn them into a monster of the week, but then they manage to make up from within that state which stops the monster from fighting

they have a robot girl who slowly starts to develop emotions and help the precure and so the villains just shoot her. she lives, they can just reboot her, but

they have a whole song Emiru makes about how much she loves her new friend that she sings to her with her guitar and it’s super wholesome

there’s an episode where they go to a night pool, while Hana is shaken up by the revelations of who the new bad guys are and tries to hide her anxiety from her friends. They never catch on.

homare’s parents are divorced. It’s briefly mentioned a few times and no one treats her differently because of it.

the silly hamster mascot who can turn into a bishonen was also cruelly experimented on by the bad guys and can turn into a monster

they have an episode about a woman going into labor

they also have an episode about a woman having a caesarian section and telling people how that’s totally normal and nothing to be ashamed of

in that episode, a toddler runs away from her parents crying about the new baby, worried that it means her mother will stop loving her

there’s an episode where they meet Hana’s grandmother. she injures her back and has to go to the hospital. she’s okay, but

They have a romance plot where Homare learns and accepts that her love is unrequited. Including The Little Mermaid metaphors

We find out the robot girl was built partially because the doctor that made her had a dead daughter

the mascot’s backstory is that his fucking home burns down, and that’s what makes him realise he needs to join the evil team because he has nowhere else to go

there was a precure team in the future. they got defeated, and the last member got turned into the magical baby from travelling to the past

they spend like the last few episodes before the final battle just accepting that their friends from the future are going to leave forever once the final battle is over. They have a whole group cry about it so they (hopefully) won’t cry when it actually happens. (They still do)

Saya’s mother has an emotional breakdown realising her daughter doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps. Saya goes into her mind and embraces her, thanking her for giving her life

actually the apocalypse in the future was caused by people’s collective fear of moving forward causing time itself to stop. There’s no evidence that it won’t happen again and that won’t be their future

also in the future timeline hana dies and the bad guy is actually her husband from the future who doesn’t want to see that happen again. He never tells her this, but seeing her younger self so ready to face the future, even if it leads to her suffering, makes him realise he shouldn’t try to stop her

they have a future epilogue that shows that the events of the future aren’t going to repeat themselves. Probably. I think they must have created a new timeline or something. time travel is complicated

Emiru and Ruru do meet again in the future. But only because Emiru helps the scientist who created her in the future make her in this time. They finally meet again after like 20 years but this time Emiru is the older one and Ruru is the little one.

like any one of these makes you go “I’m surprised they got away with this”, but there’s so many.

[lord-radish]

I made a post about rarepairs on another website the other day. That led into a more in-depth thought about shipping and stuff which I'll turn into another post, right now I just wanna be cringe and share my goofy underappreciated ships.

I'll start with the more wholesome one. It's a ship between Tekken characters - Lili de Rochefort and Leo Kliesen.

Lili is an aristocrat from Monaco with a long-standing rivalry with another character, Asuka Kazama. Leo is an interesting character, they were introduced to be intentionally androgynous and their gender presentation has flip-flopped over the years. Harada has apparently said that Leo is AFAB, but they've also been called "he" a bunch of times by canon sources and the current stance is that Leo's gender is entirely up to the player. They can wear multiple pieces of gender-locked customisation gear, and in Tekken 6 they were prey to both male and female grabs. There's a convincing case for Leo being a trans man, though I hem closer to nonbinary.

So my ship headcanon is that Lili's in a weird place regarding her rivalry with Asuka. She's been raised rich and privileged, and she's not entirely comfortable with queerness? So thinking about queerness in relation to herself has this weird dissonance to it. She's in denial and she's not ready to face the question.

So she's at a ball or an event or something, and she's swept up by this charming German guy named Leo. They dance, they eat, they have a good time - and from there they start seeing each other. Leo's a dashing sort of fella and they go on a bunch of dates.

Eventually, Leo tells Lili that they're non-binary. Lili needs some time to think about it - they continue the date, because Lili still really likes Leo, but it comes back to that homophobic upbringing and that dissonance she feels about her sexuality.

It takes a little while. She never really stops seeing Leo - she's a bit distant, but she wants to move through it because she likes them and being with them makes her happy. She thinks about it a lot, writes it down, really evaluates her relationship with Asuka and hones in on the ins and outs of all that - and she comes out the other side realising her attraction to masculine and feminine qualities. She wouldn't mind dating a handsome fella, and she's attracted to women too. And while it's early days, she likes Leo. They're a handsome person, and they both cut quite a figure. What's not to like?

The next rarepair is much less wholesome and much less nuanced. It's another fighting game rarepair - Baraka and Skarlet from Mortal Kombat.

Baraka is the king of a monster race called the Tarkatans. He has big, sharp teeth and arm-blades, and his people capture and consume other species alive. They have traditions like the Flesh Trade and Meat Pits.

Skarlet is a blood witch:

Trust me, it was NOT EASY to find a GIF that was this tame. She uses blood weapons and blood projectiles, she rains blood, she uses her blood, the opponent's blood - seriously, this is the tamest GIF I could find.

So this is sort of a Peter Griffin/Lois situation, sure. It's not a "serious" ship in the same way I've thought out the Leo/Lili ship. But there is a jokey, kiiiiiiinda flirty line of dialogue between them in the pre-match banter? She says she misses Baraka's camps because blood is everywhere.

So this is more like, Skarlet wants blood from a stone and Baraka's just the guy to give it to her. He's crazy and stabby and brutal, and she'll like suck the blood out of a guy, turn it into a bloodsicle and pin him to the ground. I dunno, it's silly.

[abnormalether]

do you like monster girls? do you like cool characters? do you like mysteries? WELL This turn based mystery game is the game for you!  Pinku Kult Hex Mortis is actually a lot of fun and the character you play as is super androgynous. You can name them whatever you want too. Your compatriot is Aka, a dude that is into the supernatural- you find him after you’ve been hired to find out what is happening to the people of the city you can’t remember how or when you moved to!  also, i’m pretty sure the devs are goth peeps- i found out about this game through the “clock app” (if you catch my drift) and the devs looked super chill and it’s apparent that they put a lot of love and effort into this game.

[they-them-that]

Has any other trans people felt a type of disappointment or even like second hand dysphoria when gender nonconforming characters become gender conforming?

I always gravitated towards GNC characters even if they weren't canonically queer. It can be something as small as the girl being the "tomboy" of the group or even just dressing more androgynous. Musa from Winx and Alex from Totally Spies are examples of the far cry characters I visualized as GNC. Maybe those are poor examples since they are still feminine but it still bothered me when their gender conforming traits would become dominant.

I might be coming off as hogging characters who weren't even meant to be GNC, I know there's people out there who manage to take personal offence or roll their eyes at the act of queer coding because that was never how they visualized the character (or more precisely, it was never something they considered or looked for). But these were the only and closest characters in their respective shows that had some type of minute aspect of nonconformity for me to latch on to. When every other character is already gender conforming, why homogenize the one character that isn't? It erases the already barely existing range of gender expression which I just generally find aesthetically flat but also prevents every viewer to connect with a character.

There's also a common trope in media where the GNC/androgynous character undergoes a makeover, permanent or not. It's treated like the hyper feminized/masculine version of this character is them at their fullest potential. This is what happens when you "try" and become gender conforming (because androgyny and nonconformity is apparently a result of low effort). This is a trope that almost every GNC character is succumbed to, even if only for a moment, because there's this weird nagging curiosity cis people have about what it'd look like if these characters were more like them or some kind of patriarchal impulse to "fix" them.

I can legitimately only think of two instances in which the trope was reversed in my entire childhood and that's Sam from Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs and The Fairly Odd Parents episode, "The Boy Who Would Be Queen".

It's the episode I remember the strongest because of the impact it left on me. Although it leans pretty heavily into gender stereotypes, it also tries to challenge it (not to give too much credit to Butch Hartman, he's not the most progressive man on the block). It meant more to me than I could've realized to see gender roles being challenged that had gender conforming, cis people walk in our shoes rather than forcing GNC characters into theirs. Trixie also really resonated with me in that episode as it felt like she usually presented as a boy and indulged in "male" hobbies when she could. It just made me feel seen, even as someone who wasn't aware of their trans identity yet.

I'm glad modern kids and teen media is more diverse and there're more canon queer characters with varying gender expressions. I can only imagine how much that contributes to queer kids' self actualization when just one episode of a minor character cross dressing had such a positive impact on me. It's progress I see taken for granted but there's still work to be done! Doll lines like Rainbow High and Monster High still haven't represented GNC presentation, even with the latter having a non-binary character. There's still a lack of GNC femme characters that go above just being a tomboy. And it doesn't hurt to make cis and straight characters GNC too. It's been a while since a character has stoked gender envy in me, I need to see the entertainment industry pull up!

[sortilegum]

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG !

tagged by : @mxldito ( thank you :) ) tagging : blep steal it

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

FULL NAME. verse/period dependant; late antiquity - 1920s Qaqu. antiquity - Waqu-ilu (meaning "to wait for god") . legally reborn ( 1930 - 1977 ) Edda Asimov legally changed ( 1977 - present ) Ebony Solaris formally introduces self as: Q

NICKNAME. lindwyrm, pale eyed demon, the pale serpent, sorcerer, swan

GENDER. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╭∩╮

HEIGHT. 5' 9"

AGE. a mess physically 66-68 legally - 92 counting years as Qaqu about ~3200?

ZODIAC. Taurus

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, German, French, Italian, Farsi, Arabic, Hebrew, medieval Latin, remembers some Akkadian

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

HAIR COLOR. naturally ebony black, dyed black, but it's more grey at the moment

EYE COLOR. heterochromatic grey-silver and *period dependant* caramel brown (as Edda!Q) or black-brown (Qaqu) (silver eye's pupil turns red when using magic)

BODY TYPE. androgynous, lithe, underweight, light muscle tone

VOICE. low, lulling, rarely loud, but confident and demanding of authority

DOMINANT HAND. right

POSTURE. stands tall but has a tendency to lean to one side or bends their knee to relieve pain from worse led

SCARS. several old mostly from stab wounds from Setepen-it and Mortimer's ambush, a couple crude surgical scars across the lower abdomen

TATTOOS. none

BIRTHMARKS. back of the head, not usually visible

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). eyes

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

PLACE OF BIRTH. Akkad, Mesopotamia

HOMETOWN. Akkad, Mesopotamia

SIBLINGS. eleven, but those known, Suhketi, Amari, Setepen-it

PARENTS. Sheska!Menmire and priestess of Inanna

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

OCCUPATION. retired antagonist

CURRENT RESIDENCE. Metz, France or Los Angeles, California

CLOSE FRIENDS. what friends? ;-;

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single

FINANCIAL STATUS. they have money

DRIVER’S LICENSE. yeah they have one

CRIMINAL RECORD. technically "on-record" attempted murder and resisting arrest

VICES. lust, wrath, sloth ?

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Pansexual - Aromantic

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch

LIBIDO. It's either high or non-existent, but always ready

TURN ON’S. submission, self-destructive acts, worship, bold personalities, those that make the first move, eldritch horrors and monsters

TURN OFF’S. indecisiveness, degrading, expectations, romantic or softer affection, forcing submission

LOVE LANGUAGE. giving their partner respect, supporting their partner

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. single mostly for a reason. Q can never truly view themselves as equal to their partner, they always need to be in the more dominant position and when their dominance/power in the role is challenged they will become violent and melancholic. They can be very jealous even if they practice a "no strings" lifestyle and while they'll never outwardly make it apparent they will punish their partners. They're an incredible hypocrite. They expect attention, but will easily become aloof and get "bored" with their partners often. They at present also very wary of letting individuals get too familiar with their body, hence they prefer "one-night stands"

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Qaqu : you know my name - chris cornell Q : walking in my shoes - depeche mode

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. watercolour painting, knitting, reading, lyre strumming

LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left.... I suppose

PHOBIAS. death

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. situational

VULNERABILITIES. magic, exhaustion

[asknarashikari]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikE0KmhZ9s4 Based on Rogue’s moveset in an arcade game.

---

A shapeshifting MOTW is wrecking havoc across the city. This MOTW unceremoniously kisses their opponents to get their powers and abilities.

This was first demonstrated when, even before transforming, the MOTW, shifted into the appearance of an androgynous person and kissed Gou on the lips, leaving him unable to stand but conscious.

Shinnosuke and Chase battle the MOTW transformed, only for them to cling onto Chase. The monster apparently has the ability to dissolve their helmets, leaving their heads exposed, and using Gou’s face, kissed Chase on the lips.

Making Chase collapse on the floor, still conscious but too weak to stand.

Gou: Oi!

Kiriko: Don’t force yourself, Gou.

And no sooner, Shinnosuke gets onto the MOTW’s clutches… How soon does Kiriko kick the MOTW to the stratosphere with her Boots of Doom, who is already wearing Chase’s face? Before the kiss? After the kiss?, Or in the process of doing the kiss but before the lips make contact?

Additional note: Getting captured by the MOTW basically dissolves the helmets.

Right at the last sec... though not into the stratosphere. It would be more of a side-kick, but really hard.

And imagine a long, slow-mo shot of it, with the face distorting in hilarious fashion as Kiriko's foot makes contact (and since this is Chase's face the expression of shock is even funnier)... then speeding up suddenly as he hurtles through the air, through some kind of solid surface, before landing in a crater.

Shinnosuke prays he never, ever becomes stupid enough to incur her wrath in such a manner.

[femme-enby]

Blah blah blah, I’m stubborn as a mule, I’m ranting about stupid fandom shit, beating the dead horse into the ground mercilessly.

Short summary- I am not proship apparently and I don’t like people whitewashing characters, or feminizing androgynous characters.

Into the rant…

I am genuinely tired of “Frans” or Frisk and Sans as a couple.

And while yeah, it is the notion of aging up Frisk (or Chara or Kris btw) to pair them with an adult character that irks me most importantly… like… it is fucking weird actually. Especially when it’s written in such a way that whichever child went through the underground or whatever and then LATER the story takes place where they’re an adult…

Because honestly? If any family friend saw me at like… 12, actively watched me grow up, and then decided they had romantic feelings for me, I’d think they’re fuckin weird tbh. Weirder than my middle school orchestra teacher giving me his Snapchat while I was at work years later, after not having seen me that entire time. Yeah that was fuckin weird. Dude taught me for an hour or so like every other day back in middle school. Still fuckin weird.

Now imagine a family friend who would have seen me a lot more often. Mad fuckin weird.

So yeah. I find that weird.

But the other thing, a more minor thing that also grinds my gears?

How incredibly feminized Frisk gets. In such a stereotypically way too!

Frisk is CANONICALLY non-binary. They use they/them pronouns. They present pretty androgynous even for a kid. They “flirt” with anyone they have the option to regardless of that person’s presentation.

Yet!!! Frisk always ends up being incredibly feminized. Not just feminized in a general sense, but almost exclusively Frisk gets turned into a scrawny, busty, white woman with perfectly straight hair and full lips.

This kid turned into that nonsense I be seein??? Idk what people are seeing but if y’all want a WHITE kid…

Boom. Pale yellow for the skin, rosy pink cheeks, wide AF eyes. The chances of Chara being white are infinitely higher.

The aged up Frisk rarely ever even looks LIKE FRISK. It wouldn’t be hard to just name this basically brand new character something like “Alex” if these people still wanted a gender neutral name, but frankly I doubt they would considering what they did to the character.

They whitewash and feminize Frisk, a character who has no gender. We are given no indication to Frisk sex (which would be awfully weird since they are, ya know, a CHILD) so people are really just making a woman OC to ship with Sans (usually) but still choose to to name her Frisk and tie her to a non-binary child.

For what reason?

People were in an uproar about artists making Rose (Steven Universe) skinny. Now the harassment and threats were completely unnecessary, but the general upset wasn’t necessarily wrong in my opinion.

Fat people, POC, LGBT+ people still struggle for representation. If fans want skinny, white, busty characters that they ain’t seeing in the original material… make an OC!! Ain’t nothin wrong with that!

But there ain’t any reason to take an existing character and alter them to fit into eurocentric beauty standards. Not for your preference, not to fit into your fantasy, not for anything.

These people are often amazing artists! Clearly capable of incredible skill, and likely possess impressive imaginations as well! Imagine up a new name at the least!

Seriously- why do I see more diversity in blank face Y/N solid grey placeholders than adult Frisk art? Like yeah I don’t even think it should be a thing when you’re shipping them with one of the adult monsters, but honestly the fact that regardless of how “not frisk” they all look… I KNOW that is SUPPOSED to be adult Frisk because they all look like the same bland ass white lady!!!

Meanwhile they “Y/N” placeholders be chubby, tall, disabled, they’ll have afros and braids, they’ll have more masculine builds, etc.

I ain’t even realize they could be personalized like that! I love it!! Hope to keep seeing more of it even if it comes across my dash in some fandom I don’t even know the name of!!!

[scrumptiousobjectcollector]

I don't fully disagree but I don't agree. I definitely respect and see where you're coming from. But also this leans into the queer community feeling like if you're not a certain way you're not nb enough.

I do get that in general we do need more masc nb characters but to say frankie is feminine just because they don't sit perfect in the androgynous presentation feels odd. And also feels like discrediting nb people who are afab and might be more femme presenting.

It's going to be hard to word my thoughts but ill try my best: to put the weight of needing masc nb characters on them is what it feels like. "We need masc nb characters so in turn frankie is too femme" now that might not be what you mean to say but that is the way in which I interpreted that. There is no right way to be nb but I can see how the dolls do present more feminine because they gave them the female frame.(Yes I will say for a monster verse they could've not given frankie afab features. They could've gone completely androgynous)

I think like 1/3rd of their ouftifts are skirts, which for their ss lines they gave frankie a pair of shorts and a skirt(except on fearidescent i think...) which I think is fun and fine. You can choose to give frankie the feminine look or the masc look which feels true.

Their budget line does have a dress I think? Which for me is the biggest flop. Because like with their core doll they have a skirt but for me it's presented in an androgynous way when you look at their full attire. Presentation is something that matters more than the outfit pieces. To say "they're wearing a skirt they're feminine" is not right in my mind.

For me as a whole frankie doesn't read as feminine.(but I do want to repeat that I do see your point, and I can see where the transphobes would and have argued frankie being a girl, but like nb shouldn't have a guide to conform to to be nb. And yes ik representation matters and we deserve to see more queer diversity in media and on screen.)

I do think if they did less of the long hair it could solve a chunk of the issues. Or again at the very least start implementing their side shave. Mattel does not understand the weight of hairstyles apparently... as we've seen amongst other dolls.

Idk about masc but I can definitely name a couple androgynous nb characters and it really does come down to the hair.

Idk that I agree when people say frankie is only feminine nb rep. Like yes their dolls have makeup and long hair like the rest of the ghouls but other than that I think their outfits are very in between/androgynous. Yes sometimes the outfits can be considered more feminine leaning but not the majority of them. So personally I don't see it.

(if you're saying they're more feminine because of longer hair that's just odd to act like long hair is assigned to femininity. And secondly to imply nb/androgynous/masc presenting can't wear make up.)

[toast-tales]

In the World of Monsters, P16

Read on A03  |  Chapter masterlist can be found here

Danny, Christopher, and Nathan get a surprise visit from Sam. Christopher tries to keep this whole operation together. Contains implied safe, g/t vore and language. ~4k words

Meet and Greet

A shiver of anxiety was running its way up Danny's spine now. This meant that Christopher had to eat her now, right? Was he actually going to do it? Would Nathan have to watch her get eaten? It would have to be quick. She could almost feel Christopher's tongue on her skin, could almost imagine the humid, cramped space she'd be shoved into—

"Christopher, who is that?" Nathan whispered harshly.

"Well, that friend I mentioned earlier, the one who's supposed to be getting me information...they weren't supposed to be back this early—"

Sam rapped on the door impatiently. "Chris?"

"Keep your shirt on, Sam, give me a minute," Christopher called out, doing a fairly good job of masking the tense feeling in the room. He turned to Nathan, a pleading look on his face as he whispered, "Nathan, um, I need to—"

"Let them see her."

Christopher blinked. "What?"

"Your friend. Let them see Danny. What are they going to do? They're your friend, right? And they're helping with this rescue mission, aren't they?" Nathan crossed his arms and stared defiantly back at Christopher.

"I'm not so sure that's a great idea—"

"No, Nathan's right," Danny said, standing up and crossing her arms to mirror Nathan. "Let me meet them."

From what she had heard of Sam earlier this morning, they hadn't seemed too bad. Although Christopher referred to them as an "old friend", it sounded more like they were a previous client. Though the thought made her a little nervous, she had to agree with Nathan—what exactly would Sam do as long as both Christopher and Nathan were there? And yes, apparently human possession was illegal, but if Sam really was an old client, would that even matter?

Either way, there was no way she was going to get eaten under the guise of protection, not if she didn't have to.

Christopher looked between the two of them and sighed, obviously realizing that he was not going to get his way. "...fine. Let's just get this mess over with." He walked towards the front door and opened it.

Almost immediately, Sam began talking—loudly. "Wow, Chris, are you sure you don't have anything in stock? Because it smells so good in—" Sam walked in, seeming to ignore the way Christopher was trying to stand in between the front door and the kitchen to block Sam's path as much as possible, and met Danny's eyes.

An unsettling shiver ran up her spine as she made eye contact with the giant—a lanky, androgynous figure with short, dark hair, tattoos running up their arms, and a flat-billed cap turned around on their head. It wasn't that Sam looked particularly dangerous...but the 'friendly' look they were giving Danny was pushing the boundaries of natural curiosity in a way Danny was all too familiar with. It was the same look the owner of the Black Dragon had given her—objectifying, but not in the normal, "human" way. It made her feel like...prey.

"...uh...you didn't mention...company?"

Danny watched Christopher fiddle with his hair and tuck it behind his ears, clearly nervous about this whole exchange. "Sam, this is Nathan and Danny. They're going to be helping me with this too."

Danny watched Sam's face scrunch up in confusion—still looking intently at her—before they shrugged, smiling as they stuck their hand out towards Nathan to shake. "Well, nice to meet you, Nathan."

Nathan accepted the handshake stiffly, a wary air about him as he seemed to appraise Sam's character.

Then Sam turned towards Danny again and seemed to weigh their options for a few seconds. Danny also wasn't sure what to do in this exchange, but tried reaching her hand out in Sam's direction for a similar handshake.

Sam took her hand between their thumb and forefinger—it was clear they were trying to be gentle but weren't as successful as Nathan or Christopher—and bent down, pressing their lips softly against Danny's hand in a quick kiss just as Christopher had done yesterday. She gasped at the giant's sudden proximity, her breath catching in her throat.

It was barely audible, but Danny swore she heard a low growl come from Christopher's direction.

Sam let her hand go, still smiling as they held up their palms defensively. "Alright, alright, I get it, 'hands off the merchandise.'"

"She's not merchandise," Nathan hissed.

Sam looked to Christopher with a pleading smile, seemingly immune to the hostility in the room but quite clearly thrown for a loop. "I'm...very confused."

Danny was getting a slight case of schadenfreude from the exasperated look on Christopher's face.

"Okay, okay, let's start over. Sam, these are my friends," Christopher said, making knowing eye contact with Danny and grinning. He'd clearly not forgotten their conversation about being 'friends' this morning. "Both of them."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. They nodded, looking like they were barely restraining themselves from prying further. "Uh...gotcha."

"Now, if you're here so early, I assume you have something important to tell me. And it...can't wait until tomorrow?"

At this, Sam beamed and pulled a pen out of their pocket, unscrewing the cap to reveal a USB stick. They had obviously missed Christopher's not-so-subtle hint. "Nope. Go get your laptop, Chris. I got it all right here."

Danny remembered what Sam had been tasked with doing that morning, and found her eyes unconsciously wandering toward their stomach. Did they...is there a...

Begrudgingly, Christopher got his laptop from the counter nearby and switched it on. "So, Sam, why exactly did you go so early? I was under the impression you'd be going tonight."

"Well, I figured I'd see what it's like in the afternoon instead—dead empty, just like I thought. If you were looking to pull this off with the least amount of witnesses, going there in the middle of the day seems like your best bet. Plus there's a wider selection since they're supposed to be returned by then."

"Mmhmm." Christopher's lips were set in a thin line as he plugged in the USB and tapped a few keys. Danny's heart started thumping in her chest—the thought of seeing the inside of that place again was unsettling, to say the least. But she needed to—she needed to do this for the humans still stuck in there.

She cast a quick look to Nathan, who had stood up to look at the screen over Christopher's shoulder. Luckily, as the giant met her eyes, he seemed to pick up on her discomfort and gave her a strained grin. He looked just as bad as she felt, as his grin was barely masking a look of disgust from what he could see on the screen.

Danny stood up hesitantly and without needing to ask, Nathan set his open palm on the table for her to climb into. She sat down as he lifted her to his chest, placing another hand in front of her gently as an extra form of protection from falling. The height would have made her woozy had she not been desperately craving some form of positive physical affection from her friend. The warmth and scent of Nathan's body and the steady thumping of his heartbeat were enough to calm Danny down enough for her to turn her eyes toward the screen in front of her.

She caught Christopher's head quickly turning away from her as she did so.

The recording that played back showed what Danny assumed was the inside of the Black Dragon—an unremarkable, dimly lit bar that was empty save for the familiar, stoic face behind the counter—Cyrus. The burly giant barely seemed to take note of Sam as they entered, wiping down the counter of the bar methodically.

"Hey there," the voice of Sam said cheerily as they sat down at the bar. "I heard that you can get...special goods here, right?"

Cyrus stopped wiping down the counter and looked up, squinting at Sam. "I haven't seen you around here before. New in town?"

"Actually, it's my first, uh...first time. My friends told me to come here, but I don't really know what I'm doing, sir."

Christopher turned to look at Sam, who shrugged with an innocent grin.

Cyrus huffed, looking around before motioning for Sam to follow him. "Come with me, then." He led Sam to a door marked at the top with the words "OFFICE."

Danny let in a sharp intake of air when she saw the room behind the door. It was just as she remembered, but from a taller vantage point—a stark room with a single table and chair pushed against the wall, and as Sam entered further, turning around as slowly as possible, the camera revealed the shelf along the back wall with four jars of humans on it—different shapes and sizes, but all of them filled with one human each.

Nathan held her a bit tighter against his chest, but she could hear his heartbeat speed up as well.

Christopher paused the video and leaned in closer.

"See, look! It's like, concrete walls, no windows, and you have to sit at that cold-ass metal table on that folding chair. It's like you're being interrogated or something!"

"Uh-huh," mumbled Christopher, scrubbing back and forth through the video a bit before continuing. "So wait, that's it? Four humans? I expected...more."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe he's been having trouble finding them, too."

"So I was curious...do you have anything, um...bigger?"

Cyrus gave Sam a funny look. "Even if I did, you wouldn't be able to handle it, first-timer. You also couldn't afford it. Larger ones are pretty rare."

"Wait...how big do they get? Do you have a different container for them or something?"

Cyrus raised an eyebrow before chuckling amusedly. "You really are a bit inexperienced, aren't you?" Cyrus opened another door in the back wall, and Sam eagerly moved to get a clearer shot of the small room.

The footage revealed what Danny thought looked like a large, empty fish tank—definitely meant to hold humans of her current size. It made her stomach flip over.

"Huh," muttered Christopher. "Should have figured."

"So this is all you have, huh?"

"Yes," said Cyrus gruffly. He closed the door and reached down to get one of the jars off the shelf.

Sam turned slowly to face Cyrus, giving a clear view of the door they'd entered from.

Christopher paused the footage. "Is that a camera up there, by the door?"

"Oh yeah. So I looked around, and that's actually the only camera in there. I could be wrong, but I think it's positioned so that it can't see who comes in and out, just who sits down at the table. My bet is he's got it there for blackmail against his clients. When he walked in—" Sam leaned over to rewind the footage back to where they'd entered the "office." "—he kind of moved to the side a bit, see? I thought it was a little weird, but then it made sense when I saw the camera. Also, I looked up the model after. It's video only, no audio. Probably doesn't want to risk his voice being heard either."

Not for the first time, Danny was both impressed and a little weirded out by how extensive Sam's 'research' had been.

Christopher resumed the video. Sam appeared to take the jar with the human in it, but at the angle the camera was at, Danny couldn't see what the human looked like.

"So uh...how much time do I get? And do I, uh...get the room to myself?"

Cyrus motioned towards the chair and shoved the jar towards Sam. "Ten minutes, then you get out of here. No funny business or touching the other humans. I don't care what you do, but bring it back by 5 tonight. Any damage or lateness will cost you, so don't even think about not returning it. Got it?"

"Got it," said Sam, sitting down at the chair. "Thanks, sir."

"Seriously though, what kind of customer service is that? Just shoving it at me like 'do your business and get out.' He must be catering to a super desperate crowd. There's no heart in it, you know? You were always great at the experience, Chris, you always knew how to give the people what they wanted."

"Not really relevant right now, Sam," Christopher hissed, a hardened edge to his voice.

Christopher hurriedly scrubbed through the footage after that, but it was pretty clear what happened as the human was taken out of the jar and lifted above the view of the camera. Danny stole another timid glance toward Sam's stomach.

Nathan seemed to have the same suspicions. "So. Sam. Where's the human you...rented?" He tried to sound cordial, but Danny could feel his pulse quickening. It was a hardened tone she didn't often hear from Nathan.

"Ugh, yeah. So, you have to return it by 5 if you rent earlier in the day. I'm gonna have to swing by there again after this to return it."

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. "So they're...inside you. Right now." Nathan's voice was frigid.

Sam was either completely oblivious to or outright ignoring Nathan's hostility. "...yeah? Obviously?"

Danny heard Christopher exhale in exasperation as he pushed himself up from his seat. "Alright. Sam, come with me real quick." He gestured for the now-confused giant to follow him down the hallway.

* * * * * * * * * *  

Christopher closed the door to his bedroom behind him after Sam followed him inside. "Alright. You're gonna have to spit them up now."

Predictably, Sam was unhappy with this. "Aw, what? Why? You're not even gonna let me savor it while I can? I barely got an hour in as is!" they whined.

Christopher pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, this whole thing is not gonna work if we're doing this while you've got a human inside you. Just...do me a favor here, Sam."

"This is about the human out there, isn't it? Seriously Chris, what exactly is that about?" Sam's voice was brimming with a million questions, none of which Christopher wanted to answer right now.

"It's a long story."

"Okay, well now I'm even more interested."

Christopher gave Sam a withering glare that he hoped would put the nail in the coffin of ever telling Sam the complete story behind Nathan and Danny.

Sam scoffed, hitting Christopher's arm playfully. "Alright, hey, I won't ask questions, man. You do you."

"Sam, all you ever do is ask questions. Now can you please bring the human back up? Do I need to remind you who paid for it in the first place?"

"You're lucky I like you, Chris. The things I do for you..."

"I'll cook you something nice the next time you're over to make up for it, okay?" Seriously, anything to get this over with.

"Ughhh...fine, fine." With practiced precision, Sam poked their gut and began the process of moving the human up their throat. Christopher took the opportunity to grab a hand towel from the adjoining bathroom.

The soggy human that had been unceremoniously coughed up into Sam's hand was shivering, looking nervously up at the two giants with wide eyes. "W-what..."

Christopher held out the towel for Sam to place the human into, and started carefully drying the tiny male human off. He could feel him shaking under his fingers. "Hey, it's okay. You're in good hands now." He gave the human a wide grin, though this only seemed to make the human more afraid. Am I really that intimidating?

Christopher had felt a gnawing sort of hunger since letting Danny out of his stomach that morning—he was getting far too used to the feeling of a human inside of him, and being inside the house where Danny's scent seemed to linger everywhere only served to feed that craving. Even so, the human in his hands wasn't appealing to him at all right now. Their scent was so diluted and weak. Was Danny making him desensitized or something? Or was it that Danny had made him lose all interest in other humans?

Clearly, the human wasn't picking up on Christopher's disinterest in them, but he made no moves to fight back. While Christopher was grateful they weren't struggling more, it was...kind of sad.

"Alright. Come on Sam, we've got more things to discuss." Christopher, scared human in hand, led Sam back out to the kitchen, where Danny and Nathan seemed to have been waiting anxiously, both of their eyes intently trained on him as he entered. He watched Nathan's eyes go wide as he noticed the human in his hands.

Danny's eyes went wider, though. "Oh my god. It's you!"

The human moved to face her, peering over the edge of Christopher's fingers. "Hey, you're that girl! The one who..." Christopher set the human and the towel down on the table next to Danny, who towered over the regular-sized human. She sat down, meeting him at eye-level. "I...thought the serum would wear off eventually. You're still stuck at that size?"

Danny laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, apparently it's permanent. Still looking for an antidote."

The human looked around, their anxiety seeming to lessen after seeing Danny. "I guess you weren't kidding about having giant friends. I...didn't expect to see you again, frankly. The giant that bought you...every human he takes doesn't come back."

Yeah, that's Gary, all right. At least I had the sense to stop dealing to him.

Danny just nodded solemnly, her face paling. Christopher felt a renewed surge of anger at remembering how close he'd come to losing Danny to that piece of shit. He regretted just letting the bastard go like that.

"So...wait...I didn't catch everything, but...are you actually planning on freeing the other humans in there?"

"We're going to try," Danny said, smiling. She looked up at Christopher, as if silently asking him to confirm it. The other human turned to face him as well, the fear that had been on his face turning to confusion and...awe.

Christopher nodded, wondering if this human would be the first to actually be appropriately grateful for what he was doing. "That's right." The resulting open-mouthed shock on the human's face that gradually changed to a small smile made a flutter of pride well up in his chest.

"What's your name?" Nathan asked, giving the human a warm smile.

The human scrunched their face up in a puzzled expression, as if the question was making them think hard about something. "...Ryan."

"Do you...not know your own name?" Nathan inquired softly. Christopher felt a pang of sadness at the look on Nathan's face. He'd been avoiding looking at Nathan as much as possible since Sam had barged in earlier for that reason—seeing Nathan's clearly pained expression and overwhelming concern for the human both confused him and made his heart hurt.

"Well," said Ryan slowly, "No one's asked me what my name was in a long time."

No one spoke. Nathan looked horrified and at a loss for words. But Danny just nodded, as if she understood. This piqued Christopher's curiosity—what had Danny been through before she'd met Nathan? Did she understand something about this human's strange behavior? Christopher doubted she'd ever tell him, but for the first time, he was curious about Danny's history—something he'd never even considered before.

"I'm sorry about all this, Ryan," Nathan said, his voice heavy with remorse.

"It's...okay. I'm used to it."

Christopher saw a flash of anger in Nathan's eyes at that, which, of course, was then directed towards him. Nathan glared at him with a steely resolve. "Alright, Christopher. So what's the plan?"

The beginnings of the plan were indeed starting to form in Christopher's head, but no one seemed to like his suggestions besides the ever-loyal (yet completely oblivious) Sam. For the next half-hour, they all discussed the options in front of them, the minutia of the video, and the details of the Black Dragon. Every idea seemed to hit a dead end somehow.

Christopher was glad to break away for a bit to heat up a tiny portion of leftover food for Ryan, getting a miniscule, human-sized cup, spoon, and bowl out of one of his kitchen drawers. Filling the glass with fresh water and the bowl with some soup from the night before, he placed them on a tiny tray—glad he'd been so thorough in acquiring human-sized goods as a dealer—and set them both down in front of the human. Ryan looked at the food with amazement, as if it wasn't the saddest-looking meal on the planet. If only he'd known he'd have so much company today, he would have made something much better.

"T-thank you. It looks delicious." Ryan consumed the soup ravenously, to the point where Christopher worried he'd burn himself. Once again, Christopher felt...appreciated. Between Danny and this one, humans had been the best audience for his cooking yet. Just seeing how eagerly this human was eating his leftover soup made Christopher grin.

He caught Nathan looking at him, as Danny was debating something about cameras with Sam. For perhaps the first time today, Nathan didn't look angry or expressionless. In fact, as Nathan glanced between the human-sized tray of food and Christopher, he saw the hint of a smile on Nathan's face.

"Thank you," he mouthed silently.

* * * * * * * * * *  

After a bit more discussion of the plan, Sam checked their phone. "Oh, geez. It's about time for me to go, if I'm gonna return the human in time."

Nathan and the two humans all visibly stiffened at that, as if they'd forgotten that fact. Danny looked up at Christopher pleadingly. He knew what she was going to ask him.

He sighed, way past the point of exhaustion after this whole ordeal. "We need to return him, Danny. I don't know his exact methods, but Cyrus has a way of tracking down people who don't return humans. I asked Sam for this favor, and I don't want to put them in danger because of it."

"No, it's...okay. I'll be fine." Ryan piped up from where he was sitting on the table. "It'll be better knowing that you guys are going to help get us out of there."

Sam looked down at Ryan and then up at Christopher, raising their eyebrows in a question. "So...I'm bringing them back to the Black Dragon...without eating them first?"

Nathan shot Sam a glare. "Of course you're not eating them."

Christopher grinned slightly. "I mean, you did tell Cyrus you were new to this. It'd be in character to make a rookie mistake like bringing a human in there outside of your stomach. It'll be fine."

"Uh...and how should I do that, exactly?"

Christopher grabbed his coat off the back of a nearby chair and tossed it to them. "Here. You can borrow this, and put him in the pocket. Should be good enough."

Sam gingerly extended their hands toward the human, looking between Nathan and Christopher for what seemed like approval. Ryan gave a friendly look to them all one last time, though Christopher could see worry creeping back in the human's face again. "Thank you guys. And...I hope to see you again, Danny."

Danny gave him a stilted grin in reply, clearly still conflicted about sending him back. "We'll see you later, Ryan."

As Sam shut the door behind them, an uneasy silence filled the room.

"Well..." said Danny, breaking the silence first. "Are you going to head home, Nate?"

Christopher bristled. Don't ask him to leave! I was going to make dinner for everyone!

But before he could respond, Nathan turned to face Christopher with a serious look in his eye, his jaw set. "Not yet." He took a long, steadying breath. "I know a way for the plan for getting the humans out to work. I don't like it, but it's the best chance we have. And...before I leave, I need your help to see if I can do it at all."

My help? Christopher pointed towards himself and raised an eyebrow, just to be sure he hadn't misunderstood. Nathan nodded slowly. Is this...is he asking what I think he's—

"What's your idea, Nate?" Danny asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Nathan turned to face Danny, but then looked away again before he spoke, as if he couldn't meet her eyes. "It involves me...eating you."

* * * * * * * * * *  

Part 17 ->

Don’t worry, I’m sure this will go well. Right? Stay tuned for Part 17!

[roymustangonly]

They/Them/Theirs

A story in which you, a non-binary person (AFAB), come out to Colonel Mustang as non-binary. After your awful experience in your past branch, you find it hard to express how you feel.

Requested by the lovely @just-doing-shtuff !! A reminder that my requests are open. (:

Your stomach churned as you held onto your uniform belt, vision shaking from left to right as you tried to bring yourself back to reality. Why would he ask such a heavy question? And why couldn’t you read the expression on his face as he asked you? You couldn’t bear to answer, and your body moved for you, as if you were being controlled from an outside force. You couldn’t even reach the women’s restroom, all you could do was bolt to the private bathroom in Roy’s office, locking the door and holding onto whatever was closest to you. 

“[Name], what exactly… are you?”

If only he knew… Knew how difficult it was to live your day to day life. Being called your redacted name, hearing whispers behind your back, trying everything in your power to look “androgynous enough.” You cut your hair, flattened your chest, deepended your voice, wasn’t that all enough? What more could you do to validate your gender identity? What was there left?

Your old branch was extremely transphobic towards you, and all you could do was take it, unfortunately. You felt alienated, isolated, like a monster all because you wanted to be your true self. “That doesn’t exist.” “God only made two genders: male and female.” “You’re doing this for attention, [Name.]” “Of course, Miss.” They were so loud, so rude, so… belligerent. These words haunted you each day, making you want to quit your job and just hide where no one could hurt you. 

You weren’t exactly hostile about your identity, all you’ve done is quietly ask others to refer to you as Y/N, and use your correct pronouns. Yet, they make you feel as though you’re harming them by asking. The aggression in their tones as they insisted you were a woman, and how you were overcomplicating things for them. Was it too much to ask? Is it that much of a burden to make an effort? Were you not worth the time? The energy?

You were seeing everything in triples, shifting in and out from clear to blurry vision. Nothing was making sense, yet enough sense to make you panic. Your binded chest felt extra tight as you gasped for air, not realizing you were holding in your breath. The constriction felt extra tight at this moment, not necessarily helping your situation. You heard a gentle knock on the door but couldn’t bear to answer, not knowing what to do. You didn’t know what was the right or wrong answer, you didn’t know how Roy would react. You knew how you felt and who you were, but you didn’t know if it was okay. You didn’t know what was at risk, but you knew it all at the same time. 

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry…” Roy mumbled from the outside of the door. The strain in his voice was apparent, the underlying guilt coming through. He realized how harsh his question was, how dehumanizing it was to hear those words. “What are you?” Really, Roy? A great way to bring up a conversation. Just because you are confused, doesn’t mean that they deserve your frustration in return. How insensitive could one be?

You couldn’t utter a response, though your throat burned to comfort Roy. Tears flooded your vision as you listened to him, and they quickly escaped once the door handle turned. A great time to have forgotten to lock it. The sight of you pained Roy, causing his chest to burn with guilt. He closed the door behind him and locked it before rushing to you. Roy wrapped an arm around you, assisting you down to the floor as you shook. He then pulled you into a tight embrace, holding your face to his chest. Part of it was to comfort you, and part was so he didn't have to see you cry. A selfish act, however a necessary one. He squeezed you tightly and mumbled a small apology, hands shakily wrapping around your back as you continued to cry, not yet ready to speak.

The two of you sat on the floor for a mere few minutes, however to Roy it felt like hours. Muffled sobs echoed in the room, and Roy felt it on his chest as he rubbed your back. The guilt piled up in his stomach, reaching up to the top of his throat, blocking him from apologizing more. He couldn't bear to say a word as you cried. Your hands gripped the back of his uniform as you pressed your forehead against his chest, attempting to keep your breathing steady. Your chest felt so tight, and your breathing was well past uncontrolled. The tears trailed down your face, leading to your neck and shirt, pooling down your chest. You quickly wiped away the remaining tears, forcing yourself to calm down. You wasted enough of his time. 

You settled for hiccuping every once and a while, moving back to wrapping your arms around Roy. You exhaled shakily, croaking a small "I'm sorry..." Roy immediately sat up more, as if coming back to consciousness. "No, no... It's-It's all right, Lieutenant. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry... nor ask you in such a... an insensitive way." He replied, hand mapping out your back subconsciously. You shook your head and remained where you were, wanting to hide your face. You didn't want him to see you cry even more. He might make fun of you, just as they used to.

"It's... Okay... You didn't know..." You took a deep breath. "And to answer your question... I'm... I..." You looked further down, forehead pressed against the button of Roy's jacket. "I know it's difficult to believe, but I... I'm not a woman." You cringed at your own words, clenching your teeth as you waited for Roy to respond. The silence was so loud, causing a ringing sound 

to echo in the back of your mind. Roy cleared his throat and exhaled softly. “I… I’m not sure what you mean by that, [Name].” You cringed at the name, eye twitching as a wave of adrenaline ran through your body. Your arms shook around Roy, creating an unstable hold. “I-I’m… Not a woman… And not a m-man either… I’m just… a person.” You tried to explain, not daring to look up at Roy. 

Roy didn’t really know what to think, the gears in his mind turned as he tried to understand what you meant. If you were crying this hard about it, it was obviously important to you. But he couldn’t wrap his head around what you were trying to say. “I’m sorry I still… I-I just don’t understand…” He mumbled, rubbing his palm up your back in an attempt at comfort.

You exhaled and sniffled, looking further down. “I’m non-binary… It-It means I’m not a woman or a man… I-Instead of saying she… or he with me you’d just say they… N-Neither feels right and it just-” God, now you were starting to cry again. Not now. “It h-hurts so bad when people call me she… or-or a woman… I-I’m not and it hurts so bad…” You were beginning to lose control of your tears. Every time you were misgendered played in your head in a loop, clouding your thoughts. “I just… I just want to be called Y/N. And-And be referred to as they… or them… Is-Is that too much to ask? I-I just want to be happy…” You cried into Roy’s chest, gripping handfuls of his uniform. Your shoulders shook as you cried, tears staining your face. 

The Colonel couldn’t move, hand stopping its previous movements. A single tear glided down his cheek, his lip quivering. He felt so… awful. This entire time he was hurting you, his Lieutenant. His partner. His… Everything. Every waking moment of his life was spent with you, and this entire time he was hurting you. Causing you pain, tears, and god knows what else. He wiped away his own tears with a shaky gloved hand, placing it back on your side when he was finished. 

“[Name]-Sorry… Y-Y/N I am so… So sorry…” He mumbled, squeezing you tightly against his chest. “I d-didn’t know you felt this way this entire time… I’m so sorry for hurting you…” His voice cracked as he held you, tears raining down to the top of your head. You shook your head against his chest, hiccuping. “S-Sir it’s all right… You didn’t know…” You mumbled to Roy.

Those were the last words said for a while, all that could be heard were muffled sniffles and coughs, partnered by the occasional deep breath. The two of you remained on the floor, comforting each other the best you could, not thinking about the romantic tension between you two. Roy rubbed circles in your back and you squeezed him gently, but firm enough to provide a sense of stability.

After ten minutes of silence, Roy finally spoke, voice a bit scratchy from the lack of speaking. “Y/N, I will do everything in my power to refer to you properly. And I will make sure everyone else will as well.” He stated suddenly, grip tightening. Your heart skipped a beat, eyes widening at his statement. Never in your life would you expect those words to escape his mouth… Yet here he was, speaking the sentence of your dreams… And holding you close to him. “Thank you… So much…” Years of fighting, being misgendered, tears… It was finally worth it. You felt valued as a person, and cared for… In reality this was the bare minimum, but damn did it feel nice. 

…

The shift was slow, but the effort was there. Roy would correct himself now and then, but he was getting better. He began with telling his men about this new change. Riza was the first to congratulate you, bringing you a bouquet of yellow, white, and purple flowers. It was the best she could do. You couldn’t help but hug her immediately, a tear escaping your eye. She immediately reciprocated, letting out a small chuckle at your sweet reaction. 

Maes was the second to give a larger reaction, crying to you and wrapping his arms around you the day after he found out. He apologized many times and promised he would try his best, not letting go of you for quite some time. When he let go of you, you saw a large shadow appear over him, freezing. You hesitantly turned around, and as you did so you were enveloped into a much tighter, and stronger hug… Armstrong…

He cried to you, rubbing his cheek and mustache against your hair as he squeezed you. “OH, DEAR Y/N I AM SO SORRY, I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO HELP YOU! IF YOU NEED A SINGLE THING PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I, ALEX LO-” He was cut off by Maes attempting (and failing, mind you,) to release you from Armstrong’s powerful grasp. Armstrong backed away and apologized, nodding to you in respect.

Roy was quite strict with your name and pronouns, and since he was well respected, so were you. Even if the slip ups were unintentional, he would firmly state “Y/N.” “They.” “Them.” “Theirs.” You weren’t used to being defended in such a way, but each time it made your heart warm. You could see the visible annoyance on his face anytime a slip up was made, and to be quite honest it made you warm in a different way. Maybe it was the defensiveness in his voice, or the fact that he cared for you enough to get angry, or maybe it was the fact that you loved him…

He never brought up that day again, but it did remain in his mind. Maybe it was the intimacy of the moment, or the vulnerability of the two of you, holding onto each other as you cried. He shouldn’t be thinking of you this way, especially due to a moment where you were crying in his arms. But he couldn’t help this warm burn in his heart. A burn that caused his palms to sweat and cheeks to flush. He felt like he was in grade school all over again.

The way your lips frowned as you cried, the warmth of your arms around him, the way he wanted to kiss your lips into a smile. Each night he went to bed thinking of that moment, feeling the ghost of your warmth around his waist. He’d never admit it, but Roy felt more in love with you in that moment than he ever thought he could be.

Perhaps one day one of you would confess, breaking the rather obvious tension between the two of you. But for now, you were quite happy in your position. Lieutenant Y/N L/N. Working directly under Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. His secondhand person. A respected authority figure, with quite the reputation. A role model for young non-binary youth in the future. You were living breathing proof that you can accomplish anything no matter your identity, especially if you have a, lovingly, absurd, hot-headed, alchemist by your side.

                                                                                            Word Count: 2191

Thank you again for the request, @just-doing-shtuff !! It was quite the challenge but I hope that I’ve portrayed non-binary emotions properly!! (:

My requests are open, just read the information in my pinned posts! 

[normal-thoughts-official]

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

[tonightidreamed]

I was trying to ride an elevator.

I was waiting to cross the road to get to my parents' flat at a crossing, it was apparently a winter because one of my best friends and her boyfriend suddenly slid past me towards the down town on the slippery drive way, like, at 30km/h speed or something like that.

I cross the road and there's a dude at a bus stop, but he's standing on the drive way and I think it's dangerous while I fix my shoe laces. He fixed his too, still standing on the drive way. He sees the bus he needs but it passes on the other side of the road, and I tell him that maybe it was coming from the depot and needs to go the wrong way before it can turn around and come to the stop the guy is at.

He calms down but now he's following me to the front door of the apartment building while I'm digging up my keys from my... Purse? I guess I had a purse. I get in and start walking towards the elevator, hoping I can get in because I know the dude was following me hoping I'd help him more. I get closer to the elevator, the doorbell rings behind me. There's no way I didn't hear it, but I keep walking towards the elevator, just couple more steps. The doorbell rings again.

I am now a man in a suit, I'm at the doorway to my office, the walls are white, but it's dark and it's in the middle of the night. There's playing some ad like thing through my mind where weirdly smiling people are handing keys to each other under they end in my hands and I put them in the top drawer of my desk. Or that's what I think while I lock the top drawer, but the top drawer is hollow and the keys fell into the second drawer. That's a security risk.

I leave my office, there are only few small lights lit and some street lights filtering in though the large windows of my office cubicle. I have returned to my office and am leaving it again. I notice that two items are not where they are supposed to be. Someone's been here, they are probably still here. I start walking away, I'm a woman now, but still some suit person. Someone is following me, and I start running.

I have woken up, I'm me again, and I'm running down hospital hallways. Someone is chasing me, because I didn't do right by him. I dodge into a room that reminds me of the kitchen of a church in a town where I went to school. It has a bit of the vibe from Jurassic park when the kids hide from raptors.

I'm the business lady again. I'm approaching a train? Metro? Station that is connected to the white hallways, I start seeing people around me, getting out of work in the middle of the night, heading home. At the station I see two coworkers and I sprint to them. I grab the arm of one, he seems emotionless but is able to see something's up. When he asks what I need I say 'be there for me.'

I am me again. Someone older and worn out unlocks a door to let me into a room with an elevator. They explain to me as if I was a new tenant or something that I'm welcome to join them in the living room to the right, and I shouldn't mind the bottom floor, they don't wear pants over there. I don't really care, I just want to get to the top floor where my parents live. I stop to pull on a pair of panties.

I'm in the forest at the university area, couple hundred meters away from the apartment building. It's the middle of the night. I have two friendly figures with me. We hear people arriving, it's the Bad Guys. We start dashing down a slope, there's a lot of dead leaves on the ground, it's autumn. We dig down and try to hide ourselves in them. The bad guys are talking, there's maybe three of them. The boss in feminine, but very androgynous. I can tell we didn't manage to hide ourselves, they find us. They find the one of us who is a dwarf.

But surprise! That wasn't the dwarf, it was one of us humans who had bent their legs beneath them to look shorter! I pick up a statue size of a football, that had been one of the grunts. It's kinda snake shaped. I talk to it, it has to answer my questions and cannot lie.

It tells me that it's master is an ancient snake queen and in order to get her down to a third of her power the two statues need to be destroyed. It tells me it never wanted to be part of her schemes. I'm crying and kiss the small statue, talking in English, in a very poetic and old fashioned way. I remember calling the statue 'my pearl.' I don't remember the rest of what I said but I was basically feeling bad for needing to destroy the statue and apologizing to it.

We turn towards the apartment building. We'd need to get to the roof (via elevator) to drop the statue in order to destroy it, and to get rid of two thirds of the monster's power.

We are standing at the crossing in front of the apartment building waiting for the traffic light to change green, when I think that this is going to be our last ride on the elevator. I start quietly singing Last Ride of the Day by Nightwish. We cross the road.

We are dashing down the hallway to the elevator. Someone has gotten tired of all this elevator usage and has put up enormous posters in a doorway to block the path. We burst through them. The odd residents wonder about our hurry but don't even bother to turn around to look. They are not wearing pants.

I woke up. Sorry for different tenses(?) I basically started typing as I woke up.