#to me though biologically my body is considered female

[halfricanloveyou]

here’s the thing about being nonbinary for me personally: it is not and has never been about breaking boundaries or daring to be different or freedom of gender expression that made me suddenly choose to be nonbinary.

i have always been this way. i’ve always known but never fully understood why i felt so uncomfortable being a woman. it had nothing to do with leaning more towards femininity or masculinity or gender roles or hating women.

i have always felt that i have never been a woman. it never felt right to me being defined as one. though i share a lot of experiences with women due to society seeing me as a woman and people in society treating me that way, disliking femininity wasn’t what made me think i was nonbinary.

what made me really fully realize and understand was when i realized that when it came to me personally, i didn’t care about femininity OR masculinity. i didn’t really think in those kinds of terms when it came to myself either. the idea of gender isn’t one i felt applied to me, as a person.

i didn’t care about being a woman. i didn’t care about what things were labeled as “feminine” or what i was supposed to be like as a woman. i didn’t WANT to be a woman. i didn’t feel like a woman.

at the same time, i didn’t want to be masculine. i didn’t want to be seen as a man. though i feel i have more in common with men, i still never felt that i was a man.

it was always really difficult and alienating for me, not understanding why i felt so much dysphoria at being seen as a woman OR as a man. why being called either just never felt fully right to me. why trying to be either felt like a chore or a costume i had to put on, and when i was called or mistaken as either i felt like i wanted to scream and cry. why i never understood why i wasn’t good enough as either gender, not feminine enough or masculine enough, not fitting into either category.

i tried to force myself to be a woman. i tried really hard to be more feminine, really hard to force myself to see myself as a woman. i tried really hard to be like the many women i know and have known. and i tried the same on the opposite end. i tried to force myself to be more masculine. i tried to dress differently and posture differently. and it still felt deeply wrong to me.

i’d always appealed more to animals specifically because they didn’t have to worry or care about whether they were seen as boys or girls and they could be loved just as dearly even when their owners had no idea or what gender they were. how being a girl or a boy had very little impact on who they were because it didn’t really matter to them, and how people were always excited to see a dog or cat and what gender they thought the animal was didn’t change how they approached that animal because in reality, whether the animal was a boy or a girl came secondary to the fact that it WAS a pet, a dog or a cat, and in reality nobody really cared about what gender the animal was. and the animal itself also didn’t care or have any sense of it’s own gender outside of hormones and reproduction.

with the several farm cats i owned gender meant nothing when it came to their group dynamics: the cats that were “in charge” or the more combative cats that would chase off and fight cats outside of their colony or the ones who would hunt and bring food to share with each other, who were protective of the other cats in the colony and would attack any troublemakers that intentionally tried to pick a fight; or the ones who preferred to lay back and were more affectionate, who would all lay together and who would simply sit and stare when a cat they were unfamiliar with tried to enter their territory; or the cats that were the ones who seemed to be targeted and picked on by the other cats, who pushed the boundaries of the cats around them, who would randomly pick fights just to lose consistently, who would growl at the other cats and get into spats only to run away or be chastised; gender had nothing to do with which cats tended to fall into which role.

the cats i had that tended to be skittish or aggressive or active or affectionate…gender had no bearing on any of that. i always felt so jealous of that. i wanted to be a cat (especially in childhood lol) because i wanted to live in a world that had a dynamic like that. a world where gender didn’t matter, where no one really had any concept of gender and it really didn’t matter. no cat cared about whether the other was male or female and it didn’t change how they interacted. (unless it was something like intact male vs neutered male or female cat in heat and male cat)

when i finally heard the term non binary, that it was something that even existed, i knew instantly that it sounded like me. i was scared at first, went through a lot of self doubt and questioning myself, calling myself stupid for considering it. but then i started to understand what it really meant.

a gender identity that is neither male or female. a gender identity where the concept of gender simply didn’t apply. an identity where you didn’t have to pick one or the other or lean into one or the other. and once i finally let myself accept that identity i finally felt right. i didn’t have to pretend to care or go out of my way to be feminine or masculine. i didn’t have to care about being a lady or a woman or lean into being a man or wanting to present as masculine or any of that. i didn’t have to be what i was “supposed to be.” i didn’t have to be a tomboy or a girl that was proud to have masculine interests and still be as much of a woman as a feminine girly type of woman. i didn’t have to be a man at my core, being proud to have feminine interests while defining myself as just as much of a man as a more masculine man.

none of those felt right or felt like me or who i was. knowing that i didn’t have to force myself to be any gender or present/lean into any feminine or masculine ideal was freeing to me. that i could like any of the things i wanted without really thinking about whether they were feminine or masculine was so relieving. i could decide it didn’t matter to me. i could be someone who was neither or someone who none of those ideas applied to.

though i still suffer from low self esteem issues and mental health issues, i finally don’t hate myself for not being able to choose one identity or the other. i finally understand why i am the way that i am and why i felt so wrong and inadequate and unable to be the woman or man i was supposed to want to be.

in understanding that i didn’t have to be either if i didn’t want to, i was finally able to accept the person i’ve always been. and i’m finally able to accept that that person exists, even if people don’t understand or are disgusted by them or make fun of them. even though it’s supposed to be one or the other. i don’t have to choose. i don’t have to pick the option my body is biologically defined as.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 1

Moniker: Soap Risk Level: Low. Soap is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Oral sex, “69”ing. Note Soap has biologically female genitalia with an enlarged clitoris or “t-cock”. He accepts feminine and masculine terms for this. Safeword: The word RED is to be used by any party if at any point the session must stop. If any party is unable to vocalise they are to signal physically by touching their thumb to each of their fingers in sequence to signify RED. At no point should any party be both unable to vocalise and unable to signal physically. In the event that this happens, RED will be considered in action and the session will be stopped.

Thought losing your virginity on the first day might scare you off so I’ve shuffled the plan around. You’ve spoken with Soap before, helped him diffuse a bomb on the Medusa mission. He’s insistent you got along so hope having him first helps settle your nerves. I’m on cameras for this one, so I’ve got your back - Price

Well fuck you sideways, your first sexual experience with another person and Captain John Price was going to be watching. You don’t know how he thought that was supposed to settle your nerves. The poor paper that briefing was on had been twisted to pieces in your nervous hands as you made your way to the room. This was where you’d go everytime, this was where you worked. You’d seen it once and Kate had stressed that it would be thoroughly sanitized and reset after each use to fit whatever purpose it needed to. She further stressed that anybody who entered this room had been tested for any transmittable diseases, sexual, blood borne or otherwise, and would only be permitted entry if they came back clean. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

Did you knock? That would be the polite thing to do. Well the correct thing to do at least, Soap was a Sergeant and while the ranks were different in your service your equivalent would be somewhere around Corporal, a rank beneath him. Did he remember you or did Price just know as his Captain that you had spoken before?

The door opened and you about had a heart attack as Soap stood grinning before grabbing your wrist and yanking you through. You had sort of pictured him as handsome because he had a nice voice, but you hadn’t expected him to be so damn broad. Bomb specialists tended to be a little more wirey in your experience.

“Price said ye were out there having a moment, but I’ve only got the day with ye so cannae be wasting time.”

The room did not look as it had when you had visited it. It was warmer now, more welcoming. The raised platform in the middle had a big bed on it with a soft looking duvet. You couldn’t help but smile seeing all the bedclothes were tartan. So the soldier of the day had some say then.

“Right, first off cannae believe I get ye first. I bitched Price’s ear off but didnae think I had a chance. Very, very grateful tae my bonnie Captain for naw ignoring me though” he said, loudly announcing his thanks and sending a grin to the camera in the corner. “I ken ye probably have a bundle of nerves rioting in that pretty stomach, but ye need tae get over them and get over them fast because I need tae winch your cunt.”

You started choking as a gasp caused saliva to go down the wrong pipe. He laughed and patted your back, or at least he started on your back but his hand very much wandered to your ass and squeezed, hard.

It was a knee jerk reaction. You didn’t fully catch up to what your body had even done until you saw the blood streaming from his nose. Shit. You thought for sure Price was about to march in here and give you a dressing down for punching his solider in the face on your first day as a glorified sex toy.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean I know that’s why I’m here, it was instinct” you blurted, getting increasingly panicked at the feral glint in his eye as he rubbed a hand across his nose which only served to smear the blood everywhere.

“Look at the camera for me hen, aye that’s it. Now tell Price that nice wee safeword so he kens ye remember it. The non-verbal version too.”

You shakily followed his instruction, freaked out at how calm and warm his voice was when his eyes were still manic.

“That should dae it, aye Captain? All mine until ye safeword out now hen.”

He attacked you, no other way to describe it with how fast and violent he was in grabbing your face and shoving his tongue into your mouth. He was still bleeding and you could taste it, could feel it stick to your skin. It’s not like you had never kissed someone before, but you never realised just how another tongue could bully yours, writhing against it and pushing it around at it’s pleasure. Oh fuck, if that’s what it was doing in your mouth… an almost painful jolt shot to your clit and you jumped at the shock.

He led you backwards until you hit the bed and then his hands were gripping the back of your thighs so he could use a combination of strength and momentum to lift you a little and toss you back onto the bed. You stared at him as his mouth broke of from yours with the movement. His face was a mess, blood and saliva coating his lips and chin even as the fresh blood had started to slow from his nose.

“Fucking need this hen” he said, almost a keening whine, as he shoved your legs apart and buried his face between them. “Been dying of thirst, ye need tae drown me.”

It was overwhelming just how desperate he seemed and you were shocked and embarrassed at the whimper that spilled from you when he started to lick and chew on the seam of your jeans. The scrape of teeth through the thick fabric had you feeling your heartbeat throb through your clit and your legs were trying to close, you weren’t sure if it was to escape the sensation or chase it with friction, but he muscled his shoulders between them and gripped hard around your thighs so they were locked open.

“Think ye can soak through them? I can make ye soak through them, fuck” he groaned, kissing and tonguing your jeans like he had your mouth.

It was so erotic and so wrong, he was leaving them marked with blood and spit and you felt powerless to do anything about it. You didn’t know if you were getting wet over it and you fisted the duvet below, the urge to run your fingers under your jeans and panties and check flooding through you. It was as if he knew because the next moment he was pressing the pads of two fingers hard against your opening over the jeans, but it was enough. Your panties grabbed onto the slick that had pooled around your hole and it was like a dam breaking, suddenly you could feel it everywhere.

“I-I-” you started, not actually sure what you needed but needing something.

“Nae patience eh?” he said, lifting his head to peer up at you, the picture of some decadent predator feasting on his prey. “Say please.”

“Please?”

“Say please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

You felt like your cheeks had just become about equal to the surface of the sun in terms of heat. You had listened to fucking torture sessions to gather intel but dirty talk from this bloodied creature was the thing that tied your tongue up? There was almost an anger at yourself over it. No wonder you were a fucking virgin if you couldn’t even handle this, they should have chosen one of the confident candidates who would already have made demands of him.

“Naw, stop thinking hen. Please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt” he repeated expectantly, keeping his eyes on you even as his head turned and he nipped his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

“…please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

He was about ready to cum from hearing you say that particular nickname so sweetly.

“Good lass” he said, planting a kiss where he had just sunk his teeth and wasting no time undoing the button on your jeans and peeling them down your legs, his eyes taking in everything underneath them on the way. “That all for me?”

You had forgotten the prep you had done over the last week. Hairless, smooth, soft. It hadn’t been a plan so much as a mad evening of bathing, shaving and nearly drowning yourself in scented oils and lotions in some sort of panic. Lingerie that you had nearly bailed on because it was so delicate and lacy and see through that it felt a level of sensual you weren’t confident in pulling off was now on full display for him and the fabric was so thin that your arousal was making it cling lewdly.

“Aye, think that’s all for me” he grinned as your jeans hit the floor with a thunk.

Fuck he was a sight. He looked like he had just been tearing into a carcass. You had around 5 seconds to take a breath and try prepare before his head was back between your legs. You didn’t realise how much the jeans had muted the sensations, but now with barely a scrap of thin fabric between your pussy and his mouth you saw stars. There was a scream that you vaguely realised was coming from you. His hair was so soft in your fingers, you felt delirious almost as you mumbled out a question about what conditioner he used and then about died when he chuckled right against your clit before he pulled back and ever so slowly pulled your panties off.

“Fuck that’s pretty” he commented before bringing your panties to his nose and rubbing them against his nostrils.

It broke some of the congealing blood, caused a little trickle to start up again. He didn’t seem to care and after another huff neatly, reverently folded your panties and placed them on a little table at the side. Your shirt he was quick with and showed less care, it going flying to rest on the floor a few inches from your jeans.

“These are pretty too hen, if Price wouldnae gie me a spanking for going off brief I’d fuck them” he said as he squeezed your tits together. “Just a wee taste.”

A wee taste here meant him crushing your tits together so he could suck both nipples into his mouth with such force you bowed off of the bed and felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your bra was taken off and folded with the same reverence your panties had been, placed on the table with pink marks on the cups from that little trickle of blood. Most of the blood around his mouth was gone now, only a pink tinge left among all the spit and arousal.

“Ye ever cum for anyone else before?”

“I… no. I mean I’ve done it myself. Or with stuff to help.”

“Price remind me tae blow you later!”

With that he latched on your swollen clit. At first he suckled, humming as he did which drove you fucking mad. Then he pulled off with a slurp, gathered more wetness from your hole on his tongue and drooled it back on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked at it rapidly, ramping up in speed as your body coiled tighter and tighter.

The noises were erotically disgusting, wet. You tried to tug his hair to get him to let up because you were going to explode, his writhing tongue was about to send you right over the edge.

“S-stop, gonna cum” you panted, trying to hold on.

“That’s the idea hen.”

“The brief said you wanted to… do other things?”

“Aye?”

He had stopped at least and your body was slowly stepping back from the cliff which felt awful. But the brief said he wanted to “69” so you couldn’t cum this early. You just looked down at him debauched between your legs, waiting for him to move on to the next part.

“When ye play with this fat pussy, dae ye stop at one?”

You felt a little panicked at his question. Theoretically, you knew people with your anatomy could have multiple orgasms. In practice you usually just got off and left it at that. It didn’t feel good to keep touching when you were so sensitive after cumming anyway. You sort of shrugged in response.

“Oh hen, you’re going tae gie me 2 like this, 2 when I eat ye from the back and then we can move on so you can have a taste of me. Thinking at least 3 while your lips are wrapped around my cock.”

“I- what? I don’t think I can have that many.”

“Thought I told ye tae stop thinking?” he said with a wink before he dove back in.

If you thought he was giving you his best before, you were quickly disabused of that notion. It took him around 5 seconds. His mouth latched onto you and his tongue eagerly abused your clit without any respite. You rocketed right back to that edge and went tumbling off, thrashing on the bed while he just pinned your hips down and kept going. Your pussy clenched in waves that seemed to never fucking stop.

It was uncomfortable when the orgasm was done but you were still being stimulated and you tried again to shove him away, but fuck he was strong. He refused to be moved, lapping messily at you with a desperation that gave you goosebumps.

“Stop, I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can” he barked back, teeth scraping on your now very oversensitive clit in warning. “Now get your legs up.”

He shoved upwards with his shoulders while his hands forced your legs back, bending you in half. Your hips were tilted now, both of your holes so fully on display for him that it made some undignified sound of humiliation come from you.

He feasted. No part of you escaped him - he licked the seams where your legs met your torso, he sucked on your lips and you wondered if they would bruise with lovebites, he lapped at your rim and had you screeching when he bullied his tongue in, only stopping when a beep sounded in the room.

“Aww fuck off Captain, her arse is fair game for oral!”

Another beep.

“Killjoy. Sorry hen, nae rest for your delicious wee cunt.”

You knew the tongue was a dexterous muscle, but fuck it was insane how he managed to get so much of it inside your pussy. He massaged your walls, flattened and curled the appendage and then flicked it fast. The barest brush of his pinky on your clit was enough to set you off again. You were sure you were nearly pulling his hair out when you came and he drank it up like wine. Decadently, savouring.

His face was a wreck, strings of spit and cum connecting him to you and then snapping and dripping off when he moved his head further away. There was a little blood around his nose, the rest long gone from all the fluids helping to dilute it. You licked your lips only to taste iron. That was right, he may have gotten wet enough to soak it off, but his blood was still all over you.

Fuck he looked drunk. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy, a dopey smile on his face as he went to his knees and looked down at you splayed underneath him. There was a wet spot, a large one, on the duvet. You felt boneless, like you had run a marathon. You weren’t sure you could move. But despite that you couldn’t help but drag your eyes across his still clothed body.

The brief had said he had biologically female genitals, but that his clit was enlarged. You’d never heard of the term t-dick but now it was all you could think about. You wanted to make him feel the way you did, boneless and ready to sleep for two days straight.

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Can see ye thinking away hen, ask me what it is you’re wanting tae.”

“Oh…” you said, trying to bring your fuzzy brain back online and be brave. “I want to see you. And uh… you know.”

He stripped his t-shirt off with one arm and it was like a damn porno as he tossed it on the floor.

“Cannae say I do hen, ye need tae tell me.”

You sighed in frustration and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Taste you. I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”

“Aye ye do. Still owe me 2 before that though.”

You shot up. He could not be serious. You were already about dead. He could not actually expect you to cum two more times before you even got to the next part of the briefing. You’d fucking die, you were sure of it. You snarled at him when he went to grab you and it was an actual fight.

Your wrestled with him, feeling the burn of something like humiliation whenever your pussy rubbed up somewhere on his body. At one point you tried to lock your legs around his torso, feeling like fireworks went off when you rubbed against the hair running down past the hem of his sweatpants. You squealed in alarm when he wrestled you off and it left a shining wet streak across his skin. You fought hard but you had no chance against him as he roughly got you over onto your knees and shoved hard between your shoulder blades to pin you to the bed.

Your hips wanted to follow, to collapse down, but he didn’t let them. He bullied his knees between yours to spread them and gripped hard onto your hips to give him control over exactly where your hot, wet cunt was. Perfect position for him to dig in.

Another beep.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and you whimpered when he wrenched your head up and turned it to the camera.

“Tell him ye still ken the safeword” he growled.

“I still know the safeword.”

His other hand cupped your slippery and unbearably tender cunt and gave a warning squeeze.

“You’ll remember yer manners soldier.”

“I still know the safeword, sir.”

Satisfied he pinned your head back to the mattress, returned his hand to your hip and maneuvered you so your hole was at just the right height for him.

He dug in.

Oh God, oh God from this angle anytime his mouth was at your clit the rest of his face was getting soaked by your gushing hole. He seemed so much closer now, like he was somehow inside you. His beard felt like it was ripping your lips apart and the prickly pins of pain were so sharp against the all consuming pleasure.

He was suctioned to you, only ever pulling of for a second to take a deep, gulping breath. There was a reluctance to breathe, to ever do anything but drink you down even if it meant he was half suffocating himself.

You tried to have any coherent thoughts about this. It was insane. You had signed up to help him get this out of his system but so far you were pretty sure you should be hiring him and not the other way around. You never knew this could be so all consuming, that your whole body would be so easily played by someone. You were at his mercy, every thump of your heart sending blood wherever the hell he decided it needed to go.

The next orgasm was powerful. It sent your body wild, your legs violently shaking and a choking scream fighting past your lips. You fucking hated him in that moment. He was so eagerly eating at your cunt, taking so much pleasure from it. It made you want it. You wanted to eat him out. You wanted to feel what he was feeling. But he wanted another orgasm from you first so he wasn’t stopping even with you screaming at him.

“Fuck you! I can’t go again, I can’t! Let me see you, let me taste you Johnny! It’s not fair!”

You’d lost any sense of shame. You think you might have lost any sense at all when you screamed your throat raw as your body fought the stimulation, tried and failed to get away so then just accepted it.

Cumming this time felt different. It was almost sore to have your muscles contract again, so exhausting you wanted to cry and beg to just sleep.

He slowed down, was gentle in cleaning you up with his tongue. When his grip on your hips loosened you collapsed to the bed, panting.

You could hear him taking his sweats off and it was the only thing to will you to turn yourself over onto your back. You needed to see him. You fucking needed it more than you needed anything as inconsequential as rest.

At first you felt like your brain was shorting out. He was standing at the end of the bed, now totally naked. His body was gorgeous, rugged. Your mouth watered as your eyes trailed down, following the path of hair to his pussy. He certainly hadn’t shaved in a panic like you had, the hair was just as thick between his legs as it was everywhere else. His fingers were lazily playing with his clit and you swore it was a cock.

It stood proudly through the thatch of dark hair, was dripping like you imagined a cock would. But that’s what it was. You understood now why the brief had called it a t-cock. Oh God you wanted to kiss, lick, suck - devour him the way he had you.

“Go on then hen, get that wet wee mouth on my cock” he said, his tone that of a man indulging the whims of some silly creature whose desperation he found cute.

You swallowed thickly, your body slow in moving through the exhaustion as you got to your knees and crawled across the bed to him. At first it was just a kitten lick, a little taste. Sweat, salt and something tangy and sweet. He was so slippery beneath your tongue and it was instinct to lap up the liquid, to keep chasing the strange taste.

“That’s it, good lass. There you go” he said, barely above a whisper as if coaxing some scared prey animal.

You shifted to get a more solid position, knees splaying wide to get you the right height and hands gripping his thick thighs. You needed to taste more, feel more. You fucking needed your mouth on him like you needed oxygen. You needed to drink down his arousal, the proof of what his body thought of yours.

He smiled down at you in tentative delight. You were so gone for this, all that trepidation vanished as you savoured the first tasting of him. No longer the shy thing that he had dragged into the room, now an animal understanding that the feast came before all. He knew the place you had went to couldn’t be permanent but while you were there he intended to enjoy it.

There was no skill in what you were doing, just a clumsy and selfish exploration. Your concept of time floated away as you treated his cunt and cock like the mouth of a stranger in the drunken haze of a club, wet, sloppy kisses against the heat of him.

He was dripping down your chin, the red around your mouth tinging pink and eventually being drowned entirely. His hands were massaging softly on your scalp, your shoulders. You wanted to stay here forever. He could not think of a compelling reason why not.

“Fuck, need tae get your taste back on my tongue” he groaned.

You barely registered your body being moved, only focused on keeping that connection to him. You wanted to crawl inside him, live there. Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs when you muscled your tongue inside his hole and felt the walls of him eagerly try to coax you deeper.

He maneuvered his body over yours and somewhere in the recesses of your brain you knew you should find this dangerous. He was big over you, could choose to drop his weight and smother you. Instead you found it comforting, like a warm nest for him to keep you safe and fed in.

“You’re so fucking pretty hen. Want tae keep you all tae myself.”

“You taste so good” you said, words muffled from the now insistent press of his wet cock on your face.

Everything was so wet, so hot. Touch yes, but scent and sound were both soaking, dripping, gushing. The first time he came you thanked him and begged him for more, more, more as your hips writhed up against his mouth.

--

You were sobbing when you came back online. You had been for a while from how tight your chest felt and the way your eyes stung with dryness. You were crying out broken words, begging him, saying you couldn’t.

“Ye can, one more. Just one more.”

Fuck, everything was tender and sore. No wonder you were such a wreck, your body was too wrung of pleasure that it could only give you pain now. He was relentless at your pussy and when you came this time it fucking hurt. Every muscle was cramping horribly.

“No more Johnny” you whined even as he ground his cock clumsily against your face and moaned through his own pained orgasm.

“Aye, one more. Need it hen, fuck. Could die in this pussy.”

You didn’t know how his tongue kept going, yours was useless now. You could only hold it out for him to rut against. You only knew he came again from how he howled. Your face was so covered in him that another flood barely registered. You really couldn’t anymore. You felt like you were about to die.

“Red.”

You mumbled it so softly and deliriously that you weren’t expecting anything to come of it, but he patted your flank and rolled off of you to lay on his back and pant.

“Jesus Christ hen, where the fuck did Price find you?” he said, voice hoarse and rough.

You couldn’t move. He didn’t seem mad at all that you had safe worded out at least. No, instead he pulled himself up with a long groan to flop down beside you.

“Gie me 20 minutes for a cuddle and a nap then I’ll get ye all cleaned up aye? I’ll let ye use my conditioner.”

And then he was snoring in your ear, his sweaty body wrapped around yours as you drifted off to unconsciousness.

—

Price was exhausted. He hadn’t intended to wank to you, but you had put those big, wet eyes on the camera and called him sir and then all bets were off. Christ alive the two of you had went for hours, writhing like animals on that bed.

He though after he had cum it would relief the pressure, but then you had so sweetly crawled over to lap at his boy’s cunt and he got hard all over again.

Soap certainly did owe him a blow job. You had been perfect for him, let him push his pleasure too far like he loved. And now there you both were boneless and passed out in puddles of arousal. He groaned imagining how the room must smell.

But he wasn’t needed. Soap was exhausted himself yes, but he enjoyed looking after a lover after such an intense experience and Price would not deprive him of that.

Part of him was tempted to change the plan, get you to one of the residents earlier, one of the ones who would ruin you so badly that you would need Price afterwards.

Thankfully, he was just about a good man when he dismissed the thought.

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #1

Signing up for an alien breeding program should be scary, considering the aliens are ruthless barbarians. On the upside, they won’t hesitate to give it to you as rough as you like it. 

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian is part of a smutty novella collection, Petra Palerno’s Filthy Shorts, that features otherworldly love interests. 

In this installment, you’ll find: alien romance, size difference, double dongs, submission, bratting, breeding, will it fit, rough play and pregnancy.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, fisting, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence, birthing, science fiction medical procedures and murder.

PREORDER NOW!

The heat radiating from the crowd, along with the smell of sex, hits me in the face as the door clicks open and the pilot bot dumps me unceremoniously into the dirt.

My heart thuds in my chest, but it’s not the excitement I thought I would feel.

I’m scared shitless.

But this is what I wanted, this is what I signed up for. 

“Mates needed for Volkroth spawning season. All expenses paid for biologically compatible species.” 

You wanted someone to be rough with you, to be a fucking barbarian with you.

Maybe it was too much to expect an orientation before being dropped off at the spawning pits. I figured after the extensive medical testing to ensure biological capability, they’d ease me in.

I was so wrong.

Besides the chorus of fucking masses that surround me, there’s the guttural noises of males as they slam their fists into each other’s bodies.

Something I didn’t realize from the holo communication is that the aliens are fucking huge. They tower over me as one purple brute rips the other male off a yellow alien female, who arguably looks like she’s having a great time. She even laughs as the male turns and clocks the attacking alien on the jaw.

His bones snap, sounding like a lightning-struck tree, as he crumples to the ground. I’m not sure if the breaking noise was his jaw or his neck—but I don’t think anyone cares.

They’re barbaric! They kill soldiers deemed too weak to fight. How could you want to mate a Volkroth? My roommate’s disgusted face flashes in my mind as I wonder if the alien on the ground is dead or not. 

“If you’re too weak to fight, you’re too weak to carry on the bloodline,” the victor yells.

The last male standing drips with the perspiration of sex, his body slick and shining. Unlike the one I saw on the holo comm, he’s completely nude.

More importantly, the big beast has two massive cocks resting on one heavy set of balls. They twist around each other, almost looking like they’re prehensile. I must gasp, because I draw his attention.

I scramble to stand when the alien’s eyes fall on me. His thick black hair, falling free of his topknot, spills over the four horns. There are two on either side of his head that curl proudly away from his face. 

“A human?” He almost laughs as he says it. “I’d have thought your kind too soft, too exotic to be in the spawning pits with the rest of us.”

His voice is deadly smooth as he approaches me, a predator stalking his prey.

I freeze, even though my brain is screaming to flee, that I shouldn’t let this monster near me.

But there’s a broken part of my judgement that wants him to grab me by the neck and fuck me into the dirt. So I stay still, stuck between two desires, my heart in my throat.

I crane my head up to look at him. He moves one very deliberate step closer. He’s so close now I can feel his breath on my face.

His eyes darken, and he licks his lips.

“You should run.” His voice is almost a whisper as it leaves his mouth.

The logical part of my mind wins, and I bolt. But I don’t have time to worry about where I’m running to. His huge hand shoots around my midsection, pulling me back against his body.

His enormous cocks strain against my ass, the thin fabric of my jumpsuit doing nothing to protect me from the heat of his body. He brings his free hand up to my neck and squeezes rough fingers against the column of my throat. It sends sparks down to my weeping pussy and I squirm in his hold.

“I want you full and dripping with my seed, and only mine, human,” he breathes into my ear.

I bite back a moan. 

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want a beast to breed you, to make you submit?”

“Yes,” I manage to eek out. The first words I’ve spoken on this planet are to agree to be some space barbarian’s plaything.

His hand rips the neckline of my jumpsuit, exposing my breast to the planet’s humid air. My nipples pebble instantly as he drags his rough hand over the sensitive flesh.

The hand on my neck weaves into my hair, grabbing my ponytail and yanking my head further back until my cheek rests against his. His stubble rubs my cheek raw.

“How do you want it?” he asks.

“Rough,” I groan as his fingers pinch my nipple. I arch my back, searching for some friction as my hips lift. I want him to fuck me.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of pain and I yelp as his hand comes down hard, sharply smacking my tit.

“Can you handle rough, with all this softness?” His palms smoothes over the agitated skin of my red breast, the stinging melting into something blurred with an intense pleasure.

“Only one way to find out,” I say, with some shocking boldness. “Fuck me.”

His breath catches at my change in tone.

This is what I wanted. My body sings with joy. I want him to use me; I want him to fucking breed me.

I look back at the alien, and his brows knit. A look of resolution crosses his face.

“I won’t share you,” he says before throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ♡

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

CW: NSFW, 18+ MDNI, female reader, blood, gore, manipulation, smut, creampie, violence

AN: Thank you all so much for 500 followers!! I can't believe that this happened so quickly, it was only a month ago that I made my 300 follower special! I want to thank everyone who took the time to support me this far. And I'd also like to welcome everyone that is new here! There will be lots more Gyutaro content to come ~ ♡

Gyutaro doesn’t understand his romantic feelings towards you. He expresses them in ways that are difficult for you to decipher. So he just acts on impulse. Usually having no filter or boundaries.

Treats you like a toy. Similar to how a vindictive child would treat a small puppy.

He’ll make you cry just so he can be the one to comfort you in the end.

As a demon, he thinks he’s superior to you in every way. The only thing you have going for you is your pretty face and beautiful body.

He’ll coo and hold you close, complimenting your beauty only to claw at you flesh. Leaving wounds and bruises on your most beautiful features. He wants to destroy your beauty out of envy, but yet it’s what attracts him to you.

Before him, your life was meaningless. So now that he’s here, you don’t exist outside of him. Without him you are nothing. Which is why he keeps you stored in his sister’s obi whenever he’s away. Sometimes leaving you for days before he wants to play with you again.

Gyutaro grew a soft spot for you because of your juxtaposition. You don’t show disgust towards things that most people consider revolting, like reptiles or people that look different from you, but yet you are the most beautiful human he’s ever seen.

Every time Gyutaro thinks of your beauty, he claws deep red wounds into his flesh, fantasizing about gutting you alive, slitting your throat while digging his hands through your intestines. But the way that you look at him prevents him from doing so. You look at him with fear in your eyes, but without a hint of disgust. After 100 years of hunting humans, Gyutaro knows the difference.

It infuriates him that he can’t bring himself to hate you for your beauty. This frustration is always taken out on you. In the form of cuts and bruises.

But after being held captive for so long, you’ve learned how to behave around him. And things do get better. 

Gyutaro is incredibly intelligent, he just doesn’t understand emotions. Especially ones that he never even got to experience as a human, let alone a demon.

He can read you like a book. Always aware of when you are plotting an escape attempt or when you are lying to him. You learn quickly that there’s no point in trying to fool him.

The thing is, eventually you have grown a soft spot for the demon. The few moments that he is vulnerable with you, have shown you a beauty that you thought impossible for a creature such as himself.

After an argument with his sister, he’ll show you a side of him that you’ve never seen before. The sadness and deep anguish that he holds within himself. No one deserves to have such pains. Even a man-eating demon like Gyutaro.

You want to comfort him and heal his wounds.

As a demon, Gyutaro doesn’t have much sexual desire. He feels no biological urge to reproduce. The only urge within him is to destroy and devour.

But when you’re around, that all changes. Something within him yearns for your touch, your love.

He’s seen humans have sex before, and even though he doesn’t quite understand it, he wants to try. It’s not uncommon for Gyutaro to witness humans having sex in the district. But now, everytime he sees such things, he imagines what it’d be like to do it with you. The tent forming in his pants isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before, but there’s an urgency behind it now. Whereas before he’d be able to ignore it. But now it seems to control his every thought. Blood and carnage replaced by thoughts of your fragile body lying beneath his.

Gyutaro isn’t embarrassed about his desire to have sex with you. He will be completely open and up front with you about it, because he’s been surrounded by sex his entire life. So to him it’s just a normal thing that humans do. He doesn’t understand the social norms/stigmas surrounding sex.

During your first time having sex, it will be the first time that he’s careful with you. 

Once he is accustomed to having sex with you, he will start being more rough. Pulling your hair, biting your neck, and thrusting his hips into you so hard that you bruise.

He’s touch starved, so it makes sense that he gets overwhelmed by the pleasure of having sex with you. He loses himself in you. Fucking you like his life depends on it, moaning and groaning with every thrust.

Even after he fills you up with his cum, he won’t stop. 

He keeps going until he can see that you are exhausted. He may be selfish but he still cares about you. He doesn’t want to push you too far past your limit and risk breaking you.

Surprisingly he’s big on aftercare. Most of the time he’ll fuck you til your legs stop working, so he takes initiative in cleaning you up and tucking you into bed. He loves cuddling you and feeling you tremble in his arms from having orgasmed so many times.

Your sexual experiences with Gyutaro changes your relationship drastically. His feelings for you start to come through in less toxic ways as he begins to understand his feelings. But when he gets annoyed by them or they become too strong, he thinks that having sex will make it go away. When in reality they just make these potent emotions even stronger.

Showing affection towards him will usually calm him down. Once you are able to love him and he can accept your love, things get much easier for the both of you.

It will take lots of time, and the likelihood of surviving that long is slim. But if you do, it’ll be well worth it.

[hiiragi7]

Recently started Transgender History by Susan Stryker, and was pleasantly surprised to see intersex be given about a page and a half of text in the Contexts, Concepts, and Terms section of the book. There are some parts of it which I think are good, some "good enough", and some which I feel miss the mark a bit. Overall, I think Susan Stryker did a pretty decent job here and I'm happy to see intersex included, though I do think there's room for improvement and criticism.

A note I'd like to make here is that this book was originally published in 2008 and revised in 2017, and I'm unsure how much this section in particular was revised since the original publish date - If anyone can find that out I'd be very interested to hear about it!

I'm going to be copying the text from the book here and giving my thoughts on it.

Intersex: Typically, being an egg-producing body means having two X chromosomes, and being a sperm-producing body means having one X and one Y chromosome. When egg and sperm cells fuse (i.e., when sexual reproduction takes place), their chromosomes can combine in patterns (or "karyotypes") other than the typical male (XY) or female (XX) ones (such as XXY or XO). Other genetic anomalies can also cause the sex of the body to develop in atypical ways. Other differences of sex development might take place during pregnancy or after birth as the result of glandular conditions that contribute further differences in the typical development of biological sex. Some of these anomalies cause a body that is genetically XY (typically male) to look typically female at birth. Some bodies are born with genitals that look like a mixture of typically male and typically female shapes. Some genetically female bodies (typically XX) are born without vaginas, wombs, or ovaries. All of these variations on the most typical organization of human reproductive anatomy -- along with many, many more -- are called intersex conditions.

Starting off with examples of intersex variations rather than giving a definition first followed by examples left it hard for me to follow exactly where Stryker was going with it, but that could be a writing style preference; personally I think I would've been a bit lost if I didn't already know what intersex was. Overall I think this starts off pretty solid, gives a good overview of the massive spectrum of sex we're dealing with when we talk about intersex - it doesn't fall into the same "mix of male and female, ambiguous genitals" trap that many other definitions do which I appreciate. The use of typical/atypical (instead of, say, disordered) is good. I also do appreciate the preference for differences of sex development over disorders of sex development.

Intersex used to be called hermaphroditism, but that term is now usually considered perjorative. Some intersex people now prefer the medical term DSD (for Disorders of Sex Development) to describe their sex status, but others reject this term as unduly pathologizing and depoliticizing. Such people might use DSD to refer instead to "differences of sex development," or they might hold on to the word intersex -- or even hermaphrodite, or the slang word herm -- to signal their sense of belonging to a politicized minority community.

This is also good! Really feel like we're addressing the elephants in the room here. Hermaphrodite is perjorative, some intersex people use Disorders of Sex Development but other intersex people consider it unduly pathologizing and depoliticizing and instead use differences of sex development or just intersex (or reclaim Hermaphrodite), and we belong to a politicized minority community. Very cool! Lots of things were said here that other authors are often too afraid to touch on, if they even mention us at all.

Intersex conditions are far more common than we tend to acknowledge; reliable estimates put the number at about one in two thousand births.

Actually, it's more like 1-2 in 100 births, my guess as to what's being referenced is actually the statistics for those born with ambiguous genitals ("The estimated frequency of genital ambiguity is reported to be in the range of 1:2000–1:4500" [Link]), which is disappointing. I do appreciate Stryker going against the "intersex is rare" myth, though.

Intersex doesn't really have all that much to do with transgender, except for demonstrating that the biology of sex is a lot more variable than most people realize. This becomes significant when you have cultural beliefs about there being only two sexes, and therefore only two genders.

Stryker lost me here. Intersex doesn't have much to do with transgender except as a demonstration of the variability of sex? I'm tired of people saying intersexuality's only relation to transgender is this when there are many more connections to be found between the two. It's exhausting to have your community be constantly stripped down to a singular point or a debate tool for someone else's use. Didn't like this part.

These beliefs can lead to intersex people becoming the target of medical interventions such as genital surgery or hormone therapy, often while they are still infants or young children, to "correct" their supposed "abnormality". It is being subjected to the same cultural beliefs about gender, and acted on by the same medical institutions, through the same body-altering techniques that give intersex people and transgender people the most common ground.

This part is better, and I do like the connection between intersex and trans people here. I do believe that acknowledging that both communities are impacted by much of the same systems and techniques is good and should be further talked about.

Some trans people who think that their need to cross gender boundaries has a biological cause consider themselves to have an intersex condition (current theories favor sex-linked differences in the brain), and some people with intersex bodies also come to think of themselves as being transgender (in that they desire to live in a gender different from the one they were assigned at or after birth).

I think that there is... quite a large difference between the two groups suggested here, in a way that makes the comparison uncomfortable. Additionally, I did also notice the difference in "trans people" vs. "people with intersex bodies"; it leaves me wondering why they were referred to differently, especially when "intersex people" was used further up in the passage. Perhaps it's to contrast with, for lack of better words, trans people who consider themselves to have differently-sexed brains which make them intersex?

Still, it's best to think of transgender and intersex identities, communities, and social change movements as being demographically and politically distinct, albeit with some areas of overlap and some shared membership.

Complicated thoughts here. Yes, there are differences in our movements and communities, and yes, we are distinct groups - this is important, especially when a lot of people still try to conflate intersex and trans as being the same. However, I think "some areas of overlap and some shared membership" is really underestimating things; While I believe it's pretty safe to say that most trans people do not identify as intersex or participate in intersex communities or advocate for intersex issues, the opposite doesn't appear to be true - a report from Trevor Project found that "58% of intersex youth identified as transgender or nonbinary or were questioning their gender identity". [Link] (PDF)

These are all my current thoughts, going back to reading the book now.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: okay NOW two more chapters left lol because chapter seven is turning into a pain to write 😭 Luckily school's out for the summer so I have more time to write :) TY @cashmoneyyysstuff MY ICON ILY Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, reader's down bad LMAO, war, reader gets hurt, blood, reader wears a bra, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, bakugou finds out 😀👍, ANGST, reader goes home, family reunion, Aizawa gets sick from grief, PTSD, KATSUKI'S NOT SEXIST I PROMISE

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx: Cattus

Time seemed to stop.  

The red color of his eyes, such a warm color, turned so cold. 

“Y-Yer a fuckin girl?!” he spat, aghast, disgust clouding his features, he turns away, refusing to look at you. 

You couldn’t even more, nor speak. 

How could you have been so careless? 

Bakugou lets out an irritated snarl and looks back at you briefly. 

“If the others find out, you’ll be killed.” he says, tone icy and filled with venom. Your heart drops.  

“I-” 

“Get changed and get out.” He cuts you off, not wanting to hear what you had to say. “Now I don’t owe you anything.” 

He exits the tent swiftly, as if he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as you. 

*** 

You were given a horse, and nothing else, leaving without saying farewell to your friends. They would be informed that you had died, and that your body was being disposed of.  

It gave you an icky feeling, faking your death- which was weird, considering you left your family in a similar manner.  

As far as they knew, you might as well be dead.  

Would they be happy to see you? 

The same thought had plagued your mind for days now, yet you never imagined they would come to reality so soon. Your heart sinks with the realization that as of now, you basically let down everyone you knew.  

A tear slips down your cheek, from your discharge, and from that loathing look in Bakugou’s eyes.  

Stupid feelings.  

You knew it would end badly when you found yourself falling for the captain, but just the acknowledgment wasn’t enough to prepare you for the pain brought on by your heart being ripped in half, only for those halves to be shattered beyond repair. 

It was moronic of you to even be feeling these things, just as it was to crush on your superior like you were a schoolgirl and not a warrior.  

But at least now, you didn’t have to pretend.  

You weren’t going to lie, you were going to miss Genken, Denki, and Hanta.  

But now, you were Y/N. And though you were yourself again, there was no doubt Cattus would still be a part of you.  

He always was, you reckoned.  

Cattus was the fiery side of you that defended his (?) friends when they needed protection. He was the side of you that took charge and cared for your family when they couldn’t take care of themselves. Cattus was a warrior. 

And you were too.  

Tightening your grip on the reins, you will your horse to go faster, riding into the night, returning home to your family for the first time in months.  

*** 

You found yourself staring at the border of your village after 5 days of travel, the sun setting and your brain half asleep, running purely on adrenaline.  

It was lightly snowing, signs of winter’s presence, though the cold didn’t nip at your skin as much as it used to before. 

Pain didn’t feel the same anymore after what you’d been through.  

Your wound still stung, but you refused to acknowledge the pain- telling yourself you deserved it after everything. Is this how your dad felt after the war? You didn’t know. Though your situations were vastly different, one spending more time fighting than the other, and one almost convicted of a war crime, you knew that the pain was all the same.  

But right now, you didn’t feel pain.  

Instead, anxiety clawed at your heart, dismounting your steed to let it graze freely among the nearby fields, where other horses resided nearby. He would be fine living there with his new friends.  

You walk along the streets of the village you grew up in. You’d one been gone for 7 months now, and yet it felt so foreign to walk down the cobbled streets you walked across so long ago. When you find your home, a pang of sadness washes through you- it looked so empty and lifeless now. You missed you family dearly during the past few months, and yet you refused to acknowledge the feelings because they were a sign of weakness. 

But here you were now, a truckload of emotions crashing into you as you walk up the steps to your porch, the same steps you sat on when you had the conversation that started all of this. The wood creaked under your feet, a sound so familiar and so wrong at the same time. 

So much had changed over time- it was hard to feel like yourself again.  

You gingerly placed your hand on the doorknob, feeling the bumps, ridges and crevices you memorized, your pounding heart was deafening as you sucked in a shaky breath and finally opened the door.  

It was quiet. There wasn’t a buzz of the happiness and joy that you always felt in your home, instead it felt null and void.  

The first thing you notice is the figure sleeping on the couch.  

Hitoshi. 

Your younger brother looked exhausted, the dark circles he usually sported were now so prominent that it was unhealthy. He was skinnier, and a little taller, your heart ached to know that he wasn’t eating well and that he had grown up and you weren’t there to see him.  

Making your way over to him, you brush his hair out of his face softly, only for him to startle and jolt upright, freezing as his lavender eyes widened it realization that it was you.  

He slowly brings a hand to cup your cheek before patting the rest of your body, as if to ensure you were genuinely there.  

“Y/N...” he croaks, tears spilling from his eyes. “Is it really you...?” 

You want to sob, he sounded so broken, so helpless, guilt threatening to consume your every being. Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, letting out a choked laugh as he encircles you in his arms, whispering “You’re home... you’re finally home...” more so to himself than to you, as if to ground him. 

You and Hitoshi end up falling asleep on the floor that day, and you numbly allow him to redress your wounds and receive an ear load of yelling and scolding from your actions the next morning. He isn’t furious as you expected, however, he was extremely worried though.  

“W-What happened while I was gone...” you murmur, refusing to look at him as you sit on the side of your bed.  

“It’s...been a lot...” he sighs, telling you to get comfortable as he fills you in.  

Hitoshi had slept in the living room every night, in hopes that you would come home. At first, he slept on the porch, but Eri insisted he sleep inside saying that he was only harming himself. It was true, as he had gotten a nasty cold the next morning, leaving the ticked off 9-year-old to take care of him.  

Eri was upset with your departure, rarely going out after you left and taking up the chores you did to maintain the household, even though Hitoshi insisted he could do it. She slept in your bed every night after that and was currently sleeping as you and your brother were catching up. 

Your father, however, was a different case. He fell apart after you left, never talked, never ate – Hitoshi was terrified and had asked Hizashi for help, the usually humorous blonde now deadly serious as he and your father had gotten into a terrible argument. The only thing your brother was able to hear was “I lost my wife; I can’t lose my daughter too.” 

You sobbed uncontrollably as Hitoshi held you again, resenting yourself for the pain you caused your family, and resenting yourself for the hateful vermillion stare that you were sure would haunt you for the rest of your life.  

Though scalding tears burned through your skin, it didn’t hurt to cry as much as it used to. They didn’t feel suffocating, instead they felt liberating as you finally unloaded months of negative bottled up emotions.  

Your family was safe, thanks to you, and you were going to make sure it stayed that way.  

*** 

Eri wakes up a few hours later, her red eyes lacked their usual luster until they noticed you, the nine-year-old ran up to you and hugged you tight, her tears bleeding into your clothes.  

“Y/N...?!” she gasps in surprise, burying her face into your chest, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the way you smelled. Usually, it would have been weird, and uncomfortable considering you hadn’t showered in a week, but you allowed it, stroking her hair comfortingly, as a few more tears escape your eyes and roll down your face.  

“M’not going anywhere Banana.” you whisper, and she snorts and punches your arm weakly.  

“You know I hate that name.” 

You stayed like that for a while, before letting each other, drinking in each other’s appearance.  

“You look terrible.” she quips and you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your mouth.  

Eri and Hitoshi look at you in surprise – the you that they knew was more reserved, but they had to admit, they liked to see you let go more. You looked happier, and your joy was always contagious.  

Your siblings usher you into the washroom to finally shower, saying you smelled like shit (not really- if Hitoshi cursed in front of Eri you probably would’ve whipped out your sword) and you roll your eyes at their antics.  

You look into the cracked mirror on the way and get a good look at yourself- the first time you had to liberty to do so before you left.  

You truly didn’t look like Y/N anymore, you knew that much. But you didn’t feel like Cattus either. It was the strangest feeling, feeling like two people and neither at the same time. You sigh, dismissing it- knowing that maintaining another identity for so long would clearly have its side effects, but it was still uncomfortable to deal with.  

You were Y/N. But better. And happier with yourself.  

When you finally exit the shower, looking and feeling more like you, clean and in fresh clothes, a thought strikes you.  

“Hey... Toshi...?” You murmur, approaching the purplenette. “Where’s Dad?” 

Hitoshi looks away from you momentarily, before looking at you with sadness in his eyes. “He’s staying at Chiyo’s. Ever since you left, he hasn’t been eating well, and he’s been bedridden for a while. Hizashi says that he isn’t really stable for us to visit him.” 

You don’t listen to the last part- slipping on some random pair of shoes and bolting out of the house before heading over to Chiyo’s home.  

Your heart raced, in sync with your footsteps, one after the other.  

Your mind was even faster however- thoughts of worry and anxiety so strong you felt like you couldn’t breathe.  

Was your father okay? 

Was he mad at you? 

What if he doesn’t make it? It would be all your fault. 

As soon as your mind comes across the thought, your legs move impossibly fast, racing all the way across town until you reach the apocarthy center, also where Chiyo lived, and where she treated those in unstable conditions.  

You knock rapidly on the door, hearing a faint “I'm coming I'm coming...your generation is so energetic these days...”, the few seconds it takes Chiyo to open the door feel like a millennia each- as soon as the door opens, you see the small older lady look at you in surprise, but you pay no mind, slipping past her immediately and running down the hallway, turning the corner to find the room where Chiyo let her long term patients stay.  

And yet, you can’t bring your shaky hand to twist the doorknob and open the door. 

You feel terrible, knowing that any caring daughter should rush in immediately, but guilt wracks your mind, and your heart.  

You feel a hand on your shoulder and look down to see Chiyo looking up at you which a solemn look on her face.  

“He’ll want to see you, Y/N” she says softly, and you swallow thickly and nod.  

Twisting the knob, you finally push open the door and see your father sitting on a bed by the window. Turning his head, he sighs, “Chiyo, I told you I don-” he stops talking once he sees you. 

“Y/N.” he whispers, his voice shook and his eyes were wide.  

He was frailer than he was the last time you saw him, his skin that you always complained made him look half dead was now sallow and sickly. 

You walk over to him slowly and kneel in front of his bed, taking the man by surprise.  

“I’m sorry.” you sob, letting all the guilt and sorrow you felt wash over you. “I know I shouldn’t have left but I couldn’t just let you die.” 

You hear a small laugh and look up to see your father smiling while wiping incessant tears from his face.  

“Come, my warrior.” he says warmly. “You have made me proud.” 

*** 

It’s been a month since you returned home- news of the war spread through the village.  

You’d hear about the famed War Dragon and how he valiantly led his troop into battle, without losing a single soldier. It relieved you to hear it, knowing that Denki and Hanta were alive and well – but you still missed them.  

You reunited with Izuku and Ochako, both extremely worried but overjoyed to see you, nonetheless. Ejiro was still fighting for his country, and you missed him, worry bubbling in your stomach at the thought of getting hurt, but you trusted him. Ejiro was strong, and brave, no doubt a courageous soldier- he would come home.  

It was almost like everything was back to normal, but it wasn’t. 

You still jumped at everything, scraping a chair, someone’s limp brushing against yours, even a voice disrupting the silence, everything set you off.  

Eri was significantly more mature now, no longer the bubbly and hyper girl you knew, now more reserved and calmer. She reminded you of yourself, the knowledge was painful, but you were glad to see she retained her voracious appetite and distaste for bananas.  

Your father was recovering slowly, as you were now working overtime to stuff both him and Hitoshi with the food and nutrients, they needed to be healthy again. After you left, they deteriorated both physically and mentally, and so you decided to help them in any way you could.  

You tried your best to forget about the battle in the Chira Woods after that, but something just didn’t add up. 

How did the enemy know you were planning to ambush them? 

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[cainhart]

My brief theories on hybrid psychology, biology, lifespan, historical connections to our world, and the possibility of other hybrids in the DMC world aside from the loser twins and Nero.

In Devil May Cry, being a hybrid is not exactly seen as a freak of nature but rather as something disgraceful on the demons' side. The reason for this is quite simple: humans are considered "food" for demons. Human blood is both literally and spiritually a fuel, an essential substance that feeds the demons. The fact that a demon has "disgraced" itself to the point of mating with "food" is a big deal among demons. A lot of Devil May Cry media comment on this—it's even directly said of Sparda that he "turned into a lustful monkey," because, in their eyes, humans are lustful monkeys. Worse, humans die very quickly; they're weak and fragile. You can imagine how much worse it is for demons, where power is everything.

As for humans, there is no canon information about their perspective that I know of. My theory is that some of the "demigods" and mythological figures mentioned in the history of the world are hybrids who were born on Earth before the separation of the two worlds, but that's a topic for another day. As far as we know, the hybrids that are on Earth right now are Dante, Vergil, Nero, and (probably) Matier.

What confuses me more is biology. Humans and demons are different species, even though they were once "one." And even devils differ from each other by looks, too. While Mundus looks like a human man, particularly Zeus, Sparda looks like a bug. Agrosax has both a female and a male body. But it looks like they can alter their looks and DNA enough to have a human-like body by using their demonic magic. And they can have hybrids, hybridity works strangely in humans and animals too.

In Homo sapiens-Neanderthal hybrids, only the female was fertile.

In the animal kingdom, female hybrids are usually fertile unless there is a direct biological problem.

This is a Mule. A hybrid born from a female horse and a male donkey. Female Mule can only breed with male horses. Male Mule are infertile.

This is a Hinny, born from a female donkey and a male horse. Both male and female ones are infertile.

Liger's are both thought to be unfertile, but like Mule's, female Liger's can breed with male lions, creating Liliger. Tigon females are fertile, but males are not. A female Tigon and a male tiger had bred and created Titigon.

The reason for this is Haldane's Rule. When I tried to apply it to demon-human hybrids, I came up with something quite funny: Vergil shouldn't have been able to have a child. The Sparda twins are supposed to be infertile. But if we replace this with demon fuckery, we get at least the following result:

Male hybrid: Can breed with human females. Cannot breed with demon females. Cannot breed with Hybrid females.

Female hybrid: Cannot breed with human males. Can breed with demon males. Cannot breed with Hybrid males. A sad day for people with Vergil/hybrid!Nero's mother OCs because hybrids are unable to breed and produce offspring. Probably. Their partial infertility isn’t the strange part—that’s expected. Hybrids are known to have accelerated healing, incredible strength, agility, speed—the list goes on. These are part of their demonic heritage. But the truly fascinating aspect is how it plays into their biology. The human body can't display even half the strength of hybrids unless adrenaline is involved. If humans could perform such actions, our muscles would tear, our bones would break, and our blood vessels would rupture. Not to mention the risk of brain hemorrhage, blood coming out of the eyes and ears, or even heart attacks. The reason hybrids don’t suffer from these conditions might be due to their superior healing abilities, but even that explanation only scratches the surface. It’s directly related to the fact that they are hybrids.

The reason why Dante and Vergil can fall or jump from great heights (with Vergil literally falling into hell and only fainting, and Dante jumping off a cliff in DMC4) and continue on as if nothing happened is perhaps due to the high ratio of collagen, protein, and hydroxyapatite in their bones. This trait likely begins developing in the womb, as their bodies produce an abundance of osteoblasts. However, it would be nearly impossible for human women to survive such pregnancies. The human body would struggle to provide the immense amount of nutrition a half-demon child requires, leading to either a miscarriage or the mother dying from malnutrition and exhaustion. This could explain why hybrids are so rare.

How Eva carried TWO hybrid babies remains a mystery, but Sparda was likely-no, surely highly active during and after the pregnancy. Otherwise, Eva would not have survived, since there are six hours between Vergil and Dante’s births.

I believe that if a hybrid woman ever became pregnant by a human male or a hybrid male, her pregnancy would be shorter. Since hybrids are not fully human, their bodies function in a way that's almost like Homo sapiens 2.0. Their growth factors would be insane: -Growth hormone would be highly elevated. -their IGF1 would be mutated, leading to significantly increased cell growth and development -mutated CDKs would regulate the cell cycle to promote faster cell division and growth. -placental efficiency would be enhanced, with Vascular Endothelial Growth Factor doubling the blood flow and nutrition supply. The cyncytin genes would also be more active. Anyway, you get the picture. Hybrid women could grow and pack a whole ass baby in about 4 months and call it a day. This process may be even faster in Devil Trigger form, but Hybrids can't hold their DT long enough. What bugs my mind is whether female hybrids would have periods. I think so? But the duration and intensity would likely differ from human women. One day I will write in-depth about female and male hybrid anatomy but for now, this is enough.

Another thing is, assuming hybrids are not easily cut or pierced by mundane weapons, their skin must produce high levels of keratin. Keratin is a protein that gives nails their hardness and forms the outer layer of the skin (epidermis). The calcification—the storage of calcium salts in the skin—must be high. At the same time, neither Dante, Nero, nor Vergil have any scars, acne scars, blackheads, or blemishes. Their skin heals perfectly, restoring itself to its original state. The white blood cells of hybrids must be working like crazy lol. To put it crudely, when they get a cut—or any wound, for that matter the white cells ring alarm bells and rush to close the wound. Blood clotting (hemostasis) begins, then cytokines are released and after that the bleeding stops, what follows is tissue formation (Proliferation). This happens in such a short time that it is hard to believe. At the same time, as I mentioned above, the high collagen and keratin ratios of hybrids also prevent scars. It's really strange.

Another thing is that hybrids have a highly developed sense of smell, hearing and sight. In DMC5, Dante could smell Urizen from quite a distance. And demons, even hybrids, have their own scent. According to Dante, it's not a nice smell. That's my guess, too. I think the sons of Sparda are fire-based demons, considering their devil trigger form (I don't know what to think of Nero because his DT form is very vague and very humanoid. But he still can be a fire-based demon, considering Sparda, Agrosax, and Berial are prolly fire-based demons but none look alike). Therefore, the smell of all three could be like burnt flesh or a sooty, weird grotesque smell which I like the idea of. This is probably the smell of their demon blood mixing with their human blood. The hybrids smell must differ from each other based on their type. We've seen demons from the four elements throughout the series, but I think there could be more concept-based demons, like ‘darkness’ because nobody knows where to put these demons, so they just call them darkness or void… things like that. Even though we humans are the same species, we can give ourselves different names to feel special, so it's not surprising.

Hybrids also have the ability to sense energy. This is something we humans possess as well since we live in an energy field and are always in touch with it, we can feel the energies around us. It’s the same for hybrids, but their ability to transfer and sense energy is far beyond what we can ever achieve. It’s canon that demonic energies can bring a hybrid’s demon side to the surface, calling and provoking it. In Deadly Fortune, when Yamato is fixed/healed by Nero, Dante feels a sudden and all-too-familiar demonic energy that unintentionally triggers his demonic side for a moment. This is Yamato’s call. Dante’s demon side is provoked by her and, inevitably, by Vergil’s energy because I wholeheartedly believe Yamato contains a part of Vergil’s soul. They are inbound.

Not much is known about how long hybrids live, but they do age, as we’ve seen with Dante and Matier. Interestingly, Matier lived long enough to meet Sparda. I think hybrids outlive humans, and an average lifespan of 300 years, like Tieflings. I’ll delve into the biological factors of this separately another time.

In the Devil May Cry anime, there’s an episode about a devil’s sincere love for a human. This kinda confirmed my belief that there MUST be other hybrids besides shit twins, Nero and Matier. People in love sometimes have sex, and if they want to, children are born as a result. However, based on what I mentioned earlier, I’m not sure how healthy the pregnancy would be.

The character themes are the best source for understanding the inner conflict a hybrid experiences. Their demon and human souls and blood clash with each other, fighting to see which will come out as the victor. This is evident even with Nero, which is interesting because he’s only about 15% demon, having a hybrid dad and a human mom. It’s weird because, physically, demon blood is dominant, but according to the lore, the human soul is superior. Nero has so little demon blood that he nearly lacks the demonic smell (Dante in Deadly Fortune and Malphas in Devil May Cry 5 comments about this). He’s more human than the twins—a very domestic boy. His psyche should be stronger than the twins. 

Dante's theme songs, however, are understandable, he is a half-breed, a perfect balance of two opposite sides. We see that these demonic urges are directed toward other demons, but I’m curious about whether hybrids have any violent urges toward humans. They are half-demon, after all. Demons are the predators of humans—Sparda himself ate humans before he awoke to justice. We humans even have cannibalistic urges, thanks to female genome transaction, our time cannibalizing each other has scorched into our brains.  Human blood is not just tasty to demons yet hybrids are not berserkers or lesser demons with zero intelligence. They have a brain and a human heart; I don’t see them openly fantasizing about mauling or eating people. But I’m pretty sure the smell of human blood would be appealing to them. It might be like smelling a barbecue and thinking, “Damn, that smells good.” But maybe it wouldn’t be enticing enough to make them attack or eat people. You wouldn't want to eat an alive cow while it stands there cowly, eating grass. You may even interact with it in a nonaggressive way. That’s how I think hybrids would act towards humans if they were in control. Yeah, IF. Returning to Sparda Kin’s theme songs, the inner conflict of a hybrid makes sense with what I’ve said earlier. When you lose control and your demonic side takes over, you essentially leave part of your human consciousness in the hands of an apex predator. In such moments, you could harm those you love or innocent people, or commit worse acts. In the Bible, Nephilim are said to eat humans. This is, of course, a biased point of view, assuming that Abrahamic religions derive their sources from ancient records. But these Nephilim (hybrids) are not all the same; they are all different from each other and this is proven by science, human hybrids and animal hybrids are always different. It is also said that Nephilim are immortal, but there is no explicit mention that they are truly immortal; they simply die. However, the existence of man-eating Nephilim might suggest that some hybrids would indeed have a desire to eat humans. By the way, Nephilim are directly related to our world and the DMC hybrid concept—giants. Hybrids result from the mating of Annunaki people left on Earth with humans.

And don't even get me started on the creepy similarity between the Annunaki legend and Sparda and Mundus. :l

Well, uhh, that's all. I didn't touch on everything I wanted to touch on, but this post would be too long if I let myself go. Have a good day!

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Arthropoda - Insecta

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Our last athropods, the hexapod crustacean class Insecta, is one of the most successful groups of animal on earth. They are the most diverse, with over a million known species, comprising more than half of all eukaryote (animals, plants, fungi, etc) species, making them the “Default Animal.” They are comprised of three main groups: Archaeognatha (“Jumping Bristletails”), Zygentoma (“Silverfish” and “Firebrats”), and Pterygota (winged or secondarily wingless insects).

As hexapods, insects have a three-part body plan: head, thorax with 6 legs, and abdomen. They have compound eyes (some in addition to ocelli) and a pair of antennae. Many groups have 1-2 pairs of wings as adults. Insects have many means of perceiving the world: compound eyes and ocelli for seeing, tympanal organs for hearing, and receptors on the antennae and mouthparts for smelling. They live in almost every environment and occupy almost every niche. Many are aquatic, or have aquatic larvae. They are the first animals to have evolved flight. Some are solitary, some are social, some live in large, well-organized colonies. Some communicate with pheromones, some with sounds, some with bioluminescence. Some are venomous, some are poisonous. Most insects hatch from eggs, though some are birthed live. Some hatch as miniature adults, some go through a partial metamorphosis in which the larval stage looks vastly different from the adults, and some go through a complete metamorphosis in which a nearly immobile pupa is formed. Some insects provide maternal care. Some are carnivores, some herbivores, some omnivores, some parasites. Some spend most of their lives in their larval stage, and don’t even feed as adults. Due to the high diversity of insects, it would be impossible for me to summarize them further!

Fossil insects are known from the Paleozoic Era, during which they achieved large sizes, such as the giant dragonfly-like Meganeuropsis permiana, with an estimated wingspan of up to 710 millimetres (28 in), and a body length from head to tail of almost 430 millimetres (17 in).

Propaganda under the cut:

Insects are absolutely critical in all ecosystems, forming the base of the food chain, turning and aerating soil, controlling pests, encouraging or controlling the growth of plants, scavenging and recycling biological materials, and creating topsoil. Without insects, our planet would die.

There are many contenders for “largest insect.” The Giant Stick Insect (Phobaeticus serratipes) is the longest insect in the world, with specimens recorded at over 56 cm (22 inches), including their legs. The Giant Weta (Deinacrida heteracantha) is the heaviest, with a record of 2.5 ounces. Queen Alexandra’s Birdwing (Ornithoptera alexandrae) has the largest wingspan, which reaches up to 30 cm (1 foot) wide.

Meanwhile, the smallest known adult insect is a parasitic wasp, Dicopomorpha echmepterygis, commonly called “Fairyflies”. Males are wingless, blind and measure only 0.127 mm long.

Many insects are popular pets, including various species of mantis, cockroach, beetle, moth, and ant! Some are even domesticated, including silk moths and honeybees.

Many insects are eaten by humans, and farming insects for food is considered more sustainable than farming large chordates. These farmed arthropods are referred to as “minilivestock.”

Shellac is a resin secreted by the female Lac Bug (Kerria lacca) on trees in the forests of India and Thailand. It is used as a brush-on colorant, food glaze, natural primer, sanding sealant, tannin-blocker, odour-blocker, stain, and high-gloss varnish. It was once used in electrical applications as an insulator, and was used to make phonograph and gramophone records until it was replaced by vinyl.

One of the biggest ecosystem services insects provide for humans is pollination. Crops where pollinator insects are essential include brazil nuts, cocoa beans, and fruits including kiwi, melons, and pumpkins. Crops where pollinator insects provide 40-90% of pollination include avocados, nuts like cashews and almonds, and fruits like apples, apricots, blueberries, cherries, mangoes, peaches, plums, pears, and raspberries. In crops where pollinators are not essential they still increase production and yield. Important pollinators include bees, flies, wasps, butterflies, and moths.

Many insects are sacred to humans. In Ancient Egypt, scarab beetles were used in art, religious ceremonies, and funerary practices, and were represented by the god Khepri. Bees supposedly grew from the tears of the sun god Ra, spilled across the desert sand. The Kalahari Desert's San People tell of a legendary hero, Mantis, who asked a bee to guide him to find the purpose of life. When the bee became weary from their search, he left the mantis on a floating flower, and planted a seed within him before passing from his exhaustion. The first human was born from this seed. Dragonflies symbolize pure water in Navajo tradition. In an Ancient Greek hymn, Eos, the goddess of the dawn, requests of Zeus to let her lover Tithonus live forever as an immortal. Tithonus became immortal, but not ageless, and eventually became so small, old, and shriveled that he turned into the first cicada. Another hymn sings of the Thriae, a trinity of Aegean bee nymphs. Native Athenians wore golden grasshopper brooches to symbolize that they were of pure, Athenian lineage. In an Ancient Sumerian poem, a fly helps the goddess Inanna when her husband Dumuzid is being chased by galla demons. In Japanese culture, butterflies carry many meanings, from being the souls of humans to symbols of youth to guides into the afterlife. Ancient Romans also believed that butterflies were the souls of the dead. Some of the Nagas of Manipur claim ancestry from a butterfly. Many cultures use the butterfly as a symbol of rebirth. And the list goes on…

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The concept of Lilia raising fem Silver is so cute and endearing. Imagine Lilia and fem Silver having a tea party together surrounded by silver's animal friends while Lilia is dressed up in a pink tutu dress and ROCKING it.

Raising a human child is a lot more different than raising a fae child, but get this; Lilia would have to learn that at a certain age, fem humans get their periods (Assuming fem fae don't have periods?!). Either way, he would panic or be chill about it. He would also have to explain what menstruation is, lol.

Period cramps can be so bad. Luckily for Silver, Lilia knows how to wash blood stains with COLD water (considering he saw a lot of blood in war). He would bring her snacks and comfort her best to his abilities, and he would make sure to keep menstrual products in the house or carry some with him for emergencies. I know, I'm just rambling at this point, but idk it's really cute to think how Lilia would raise fem Silver.

So, while i agree with you that Lilia would raise normally just like how he raised Silver in Canon, i do think there are quite a few differences, especially when it comes to such things such as Periods, buying bras and so on.

[Other Lilia raising fem!Silver posts here and here!]

In my original post, I was speaking only from a socialization angle since a lot of what we see as "gender norms" are the result of how we were raised and taught. On that front, I don't really see Lilia changing one way or another. Of course there would also be biological differences that Lilia would have to become accustomed to, and those he would have to tackle differently.

I imagine he would mainly ask the Zigvolts for assistance in this regard, since they already help with watching Silver while he's busy with other matters in canon. Even if we assume that female fae do not menstruate, Mr. Zigvolt is a medical professional who would have some understanding of menstruation (due to taking A&P classes), even if his specialty is teeth. He could at least refer Lilia to the proper resources or a medical professional with more relevant knowledge. If we assume that female fae do menstruate, then Mrs. Zigvolt could be comforting and understanding of Silver's situation. Maybe even Sebek's older sister could pitch in as well!

Either the Zigvolts could explain menstruation to fem!Silver or Lilia could? Knowing how… tactless… Lilia was when dealing with Silver learning he was adopted though, it might be a mixed bag. Lilia might go for a silly explanation, an actually wise one, or he might pull out all the stops and try to reenact the story of an egg cell being expelled from the body via hand puppets. When fem!Silver isn't feeling well, Lilia can sit by her bedside and sing (screamo) lullabies or recount tales of his travels until she's soothed off to sleep.

Imagine Lilia having to take Malleus aside to explain how menstruation works to him too (when Malleus shows confusion at fem!Silver kneeling over mid-training). Maybe Sebek would already know about it because he has a decent sized family and he expresses his concern in the typical Sebek way. "Hmph! If you find yourself faint, it shall be an easy victory for me—but there is no glory in that. Sit this one out, and once you’ve collected yourself then you shall be a worthy opponent!”

... But it would be sort of funny if Lilia asks the QUEEN of Briar Valley for help on this 🤡 "Your majesty!! My little human child is gushing out blood from down there, does she have a wound? Will she bleed out? Should I be concerned") I also find it really ironic that Lilia, an infamous retired general, probably already has knowledge of how to wash blood out of fabrics due to his experience in war. Now he can repurpose that skill to help out his daughter 😂 Just don’t trust Lilia to make snacks for fem!Silver cramping up, he’ll only make the cramps worse with his cooking…

Anyway, I enjoy the idea of Lilia being a father that supports both Silver's (traditionally) feminine and (traditionally) masculine interests and is secure enough in his own identity to engage with them. He'd have so much fun dressing up with Silver and having those tea parties with the animals out in their yard.

[midnight-omega]

Male Omega hc

I wrote these a while ago and never posted them. Male omegas and female alphas are my favorite dynamics and my favorite pairing fr so I wanted to do an entirely separate post on my boys

Pretty long so bear with me under the cut also its fairly nsfw at some points reader beware

🍥 Omegas in general are considered a rarer dynamic but when adding primary gender to the statistic male omegas are one of the rarest of the 6 gender/dynamic combinations

🍥 Male omegas typically cannot impregnate. It can happen in extremely rare cases but it’s so unlikely no one really considers it a thing. They are biologically built to conceive and bear pups even tho this is a little more challenging for them

🍥 Male omegas have wider hips than an alpha or beta male, but narrower hips than a female beta or omega. This can make it difficult to give birth naturally. It’s possible and happens all the time! But sometimes it’s just too narrow and a c-section is needed

🍥 Male omegas have lower fertility rates than their female counterparts. They’re more on par with betas fertility wise which means they aren’t likely to have litters (3-4 pups) like females can. Males usually carry 1-2 pups at a time and anything more is considered a high risk pregnancy

🍥 Over the course of their pregnancy they do develop breasts

🍥 They’re much smaller than the other dynamics, more on par with a female alphas, but they do lactate

🍥 This is a permanent change! They do not reduce after the first pregnancy

🍥 This physically marks males who have carried a pregnancy at least until 3rd term, and those who haven’t

🍥 Unfortunately male omegas suffer from body dysphoria at a higher rate than other gender/dynamic combinations

🍥 There’s a lot that goes into this and it differs from omega to omega, but it boils down to masculine body parts that function and a more masculine stature vs how feminized the omega identity has become and the feminization of bearing children. 

🍥 Pregnancy and the development of breasts makes this a lot worse

🍥 Binders are rather popular and easy to find because of this. It’s highly recommended to use these instead of resorting to your own tactics to avoid any bodily harm

🍥 Top surgery is also available for male omegas who feel strong or crippling dysphoria, but they won’t be able to lactate afterwards. More traditional packs/religions frown on the surgery for this reason and prefer binders as a solution

🍥 Pharmacies, department stores, lingerie stores, anywhere you can buy a bra or healthcare products will probably sell some sort of postpartum binder!

🍥 Speaking of lingerie stores, stores that specialize in omega lingerie typically carry two styles of bottom for every top. One that accommodates afab anatomy and one that accommodates amab anatomy

🍥 Some omegas feel the opposite kind of dysphoria tho, where we just talked about those who are unsettled by their more “feminine” parts there are other’s who identify with their omegean side more and find their more masculine parts more upsetting

🍥 Tucking is a common solution, though this is kept kinda on the down low in omega only circles. You won’t find this sort of thing advertised in common media

🍥 I mentioned earlier that male omegas are p much sterile, so this makes them really popular hookups especially for other omegas going through a heat

🍥 In some areas male omegas are more demanded than alphas when an unmated omega wants a partner for heat

🍥 Not only is there really no pregnancy risk with them, but some argue they make better lovers in general since they understand the vulnerability of penetration/heat and how to work the anatomy since they’re built similarly 

🍥 The concept that male omegas do not get as much pleasure out of penetrating compared to receiving is a myth! Both kinds of orgasms are equally pleasurable and some males only enjoy penetrating just as others only enjoy being penetrated. Its a personal preference!

🍥 The omega micro penis is also a myth. Omegas are smaller on average but they’re really not much smaller than an average beta

🍥 Keep in mind that when concerning length most alphas are showers and most omegas are growers. Your omega man might end up bamboozling you :))

🍥 Omega cum is clear or opaque. No/little sperm = no white

🍥 Male omegas are at the very bottom of the unspoken hierarchy. Normally the male takes place above the female, but it’s not the case with omegas who’s primary biological function is to conceive. Since female omegas are better at that they’re considered above males

🍥 Male omegas are very rarely represented in leadership positions because of this. Even within packs it’s extremely rare to find a male omega in a place of power/respect

🍥 This also contributes to a lot of the adversity they face. Males are at a higher risk of mental illnesses, suicide, sexual abuse, drug use, and face higher incarceration rates

🍥 Lightening the mood a bit…

🍥 Males have a deeper purr than females. It tends to be quieter too, but that can vary from person to person

🍥 Male omegas growl at anything. Any small inconvenience or discomfort grrr… they can whine and keen like all omegas but on average they tend to be more gruff with vocalizations.

🍥 Male omega fashion varies widely from place to place. They can be more masculine coded or more feminine depending on the dominant culture of the area. Neck covering is popular with all omegas, so high necked outfits or matching chokers are always in style.

🍥 Weddings and mating ceremonies are similar in variation with options for more feminine coded or more masculine coded outfits. Jumpsuits with pants partially concealed by the top flaring down is the style for male omegas.

🍥 feminine coded examples:

🍥 A more masculine coded example thank you kpop ur visuals are unparalleled bc i could not find more masculine ones for the life of me until i remembered ab6ix the future world tour in seoul donghyun booby titty outfit:

🍥 Male omegas can be referred to as wife/mom or husband/dad depending on the preference of the individual. If someone needs to clarify which of their dads gave birth to them they’ll use the terms dam and sire, otherwise parental names are a toss up

🍥 All omegas have nesting instincts, if they don’t suppress them, but males and females have slightly different habits. Male omegas tend to pick very closed-in areas with one entry/exit. They also keep their nests extremely hidden, it’s unlikely you’ll know where it is unless you’re mated to or a child of theirs.

🍥 Males need just as much affection, attention, and physical touch as females do. If they’re aloof don’t let them fool you

🍥 If alpha male dude bros can be compared to overexcited dogs then omega males can be comparable to cats

[thenighttimeparadise]

The fact for most people, having acrylic nails, wearing make up, doing your hair, doing skin care, wearing skirts/dresses, wearing heels, ect. is considered feminine and things women biologically want/need to do or should do because it's "feminine" is crazy to me.

Let's unpack this.

So... acrylic nails. Putting shit on your nails to make them longer/ more colourful. Why might this be seen as "feminine"? Females usually have longer, thinner fingers, which longer nail help make the appearance of, women usually biologically have longer nails like they have longer hair, and they're expected to care more about their appearance. Why don't these things actually explain this phenomenon? Long fingers could be considered attractive for both men and women, they are attractive for women mainly because they look dainty and bc subconsciously society want women to spend more time on their looks so when you see a women with longer, painted nails it looks right bc she spent time and money to be feminine and to look "right" (society wants women to suffer, whether you admit it or not, the idea of femininity is to hate yourself quietly, I can expand on that if you'd like). Also, while females have longer nails and hair biologically (on average and on a pretty small amount) men also biologically grow hair and nails. Like, men used to have shoulder length hair and women had hair to their waist. The fact men have shorter hair now is bc of the army. Fight me on this. If this was according to biology it would masculine to have hair to your shoulders or lower back and somewhat longer nails, but it's not. My point here isn't to say that it's untrue that female biologically have longer hair and nails, but that these standards can change according to socialization, and we did change them for men, so much so that we won't consider some biologically masculine stuff masculine. Bc it's mostly socialization. The idea that women are the prettier sex, even as an empowering thing, is simply incorrect, and I do want y'all to understand that if we wanted to decide males are the beautiful sex we could change that in our minds in like one generation.

The wearing heels/dresses/skirts is just pure bullshit, forgive me for the way I'm wording this but these are pieces of a fabric, and while one can argue dresses and skirts could feminine to accentuate the "female silhouette" as in making the body look more curvy, I want to remind you that you're very subjective and what you're attracted to and what you find beauty in is about 76% due to socialization. I promise you if you were born 100 years ago you'd have different opinions about what is and isn't attractive. Sure some stuff will remain, like being hygienic, having clear skin and straight teeth and not being overly obese or thin, since these things are just signs of being unhealthy (even though some people don't care about these things I just mean generally speaking in the way our body and brain processes things), so many other things you might think are attractive for you bc of biology, such as facial features, height, body type (you can be as fertile without having small waist as someone with tiny waist, it's about having breasts and body hair [signs of fertility and sexual maturity] And while both of those aren't sexual [while breasts are a sign of fertility that doesn't mean they're inherently sexual just like beards are a sign of sexual maturity but they aren't inherently sexual] Yk what that raises the question of what is inherently sexual and I have an answer, tell me/write an ask about it if you wanna know but ANYWAY beauty changes over the years so being an hourglass figure isn't necessarily the 'objectively' most attractive a women can look.

[butchpeace]

hi, sorry to bother, feel free to ignore this. but i would like some advice?

we actually don’t agree on a lot of views on trans people and identity, but i promise i’m really not here to fight, i just thought it might seem relevant to some things i say, and it also seems important to mention that if i thought it was the right thing for me, i would transition.

what i’d like to know is: how do i deal with dysphoria? i don’t want to transition. i don’t know if i’d be happier in my body (very probably not, i’d feel worse), but i don’t want to be a man or be perceived as one. i hate (cis) men, and i don’t even like talking to them, let alone being perceived by them as one of them, or by others. i mean, i want a wife some day, and i’d really like for us fo be and come across as a gay couple, because that’s what we would be.

but i really am dysphoric. it comes and goes a lot, but sometimes it hits like a ton of bricks and i can’t stop thinking of it. i’ve even started thinking that i should start binding. some of it is the belief that the way i am (for one: my hair and my taste in clothes) would be “cooler” on a man, or less degrading, maybe? i’m very sad with the state of women in this world. every time i see gender roles reinforced (even in minuscule ways) or misogyny go unnoticed i feel terrible. i know these are not reasons to change my body/name and uproot my entire life, though. i’m not even gender non-conforming. i’m definitely more feminine than i am masculine.

but some of it is genuine dysphoria. i’m envious of (skinny) men’s bodies way more than i am of women’s, and the especially thin one constantly trigger my eating disorder, which is really bad because i could never look like them, no matter how much (if i ever relapsed) i tried.

It’s been distressing lately. I’ve wanted to pick up the genderqueer label (i know it wouldn’t make me any less of a woman socially, and that gender doesn’t exist, but i feel that it could make sense for people who feel like me? i feel like it could take a huge weight off my shoulders, but i also feel like i’d just be reinforcing gender roles and giving in to misogyny), i even considered using neutral pronouns online. but honestly, there is such little nuance in the trans community when it comes to sex and misogyny, and i could never participate in that or relate to the people who also identify that way. it just feels like i can’t be happy no matter where i stand, and I don’t know of a way forward. i’m scared that i’ll feel like this for the rest of my life.

You won’t feel like this forever - I promise.

It sounds like you already know what’s causing your dysphoria - Discomfort with the way women (and you) are perceived and treated in a patriarchal world. I know you don’t agree with all my opinions, but I believe that there is nothing deeper than that. I don’t think that gender dysphoria would exist for women, or that you would feel this way, if we didn’t live in a misogynistic world. I don’t think there’s anything innate or biological in your brain that causes dysphoria, it’s all social. Which means that in the right environment, you wouldn’t feel that way.

And it sounds like you already know that using neutral pronouns and a genderqueer label won’t really do anything to change the way you feel. Binding might make you feel more comfortable, but at what cost? Many women end up with pain and rib problems from binding, and it causes the skin and tissue of your breasts to break down and sag. You seem like you already know these aren’t the steps that will lead you to self acceptance and happiness.

My advice is to find lesbian spaces and gnc female friends. Look at art and photography and listen to music made by and for lesbians and gender nonconforming women. I know you said you’re more feminine than masculine, but my opinion is that all women are gender nonconforming to some extent. Gender was made up by men in order to keep women subservient, so I think all women would benefit from getting away from it.

You are not a skinny man, and you never will be. You don’t have a male bone structure, and you never can. You probably have wider hips, a smaller face, and a narrower waist and shoulders than men do. All of those things are neutral, and all of those things are natural and beautiful. You can’t see it right now, but you will if you give yourself time.

Focus on finding the beauty in other women and appreciating them for how they are, and it will help you appreciate yourself the way you are! 🌈

[redditreceipts]

Why do you consider it a problem that I'm nonbinary? Like seriously, how does it harm you, what is your problem with it? It's literally something I didn't choose, I realized I was genderless (or possibly became genderless) through my relationship with the goddess Hel. I'm a victim of the patriarchy too, I've had many of the terrible interactions with men that you have, I have the same trauma as you regarding growing up in a patriarchal world, so why do you advocate agaisnt my rights instead of for them? You literally agree with the worst men on earth about me.

Hey :) I actually don’t think it’s a problem that you identify as non-binary.

First of all, I think it’s important to differentiate between having a gender identity in a religious or spiritual context and asserting that gender identity as a societal imperative that others must affirm. What you personally believe in your religious practice is none of my business (though, of course, there should always be space to critique religion—but I believe that critique should focus on systems and not necessarily on individual believers).

You might be surprised to hear this, but I actually support the idea of being genderless or not identifying with any gender. In fact, I support it so much that I think everyone is non-binary—and that nobody should identify with societal gender roles.

However, the concept of being non-binary, as it’s often framed, presupposes that everyone else does identify as a certain gender. And for me, that’s not radical enough. I’m not just against the idea of the gender binary; I’m against the idea of inherent gender identity altogether. I believe that all gender identification—whether cisgender or transgender—is socially constructed and ultimately harmful. Nobody inherently identifies as any gender; these identities are imposed on us through societal conditioning.

That’s why I don’t believe in simply adding more genders for people to choose from. Instead, I want to get rid of the concept of gender entirely.

There are people who are born female and people who are born male, but these biological facts shouldn’t have any bearing on someone’s life, self-identification, expectations, or anything else. These differences should just be boring medical facts, like allergies. To reach this point as a society, though, we need to acknowledge the historical oppression experienced by people born into female bodies (women). That’s what I try to do with my blog. :)

[forwomenbiwomen]

anon from earlier here. i thank you for your nice response to my words, and i do respect that you are supportive of trans people's presentation, though it is a bit confusing to me that you said this in your response when i am aware that you have uncritically reblogged a post claiming trans women to be men in a derogatory manner a few posts down? i understand that you may not share that view despite reblogging the post, however it does not fill me with confidence in your convictions that you support how trans people present and identify.

i would like to say that, while you and your personal circle of radfems may not harass any trans people, and i appreciate that, that there are many radfems who do, in fact, harass trans people. not simply arguing passionately like someone in the replies of your post claimed might be misconstrued, actual harassment. i have personally witnessed entire campaigns of harassment against popular trans users led by radfems. again, i am glad that you don't do this, but it does happen.

lastly, i am curious what you mean by "at the expense of women's rights" with regards to changing of sex. of course people can't change their sex down to their chromosomes (which aren't always reflective of how their body actually develops anyway), nor can they make themselves able to reproduce in the opposite manner, sex characteristics can be changed through surgery. is this what you mean? i've seen radfems argue against plastic/cosmetic surgery before, and i think their arguments are often somewhat reductive. or is it inclusive language? i've also seen arguments about that, though i think that's stupidly pedantic considering that "people who can become pregnant" does include women, just as a statement. or is it about sports, which are often either pointlessly segregated (shooting, chess??) or where gender/sex isn't the most efficient category to sort competitors (ex. basketball, where it would be better to sort by height. there are very tall cis women and shorter cis men out there) and the segregation of these sports just makes it easier to underpay women.

...i do apologize if any of that came across as confrontational, i am not trying to be. i do enjoy debate occasionally, though i am a bit tired right now so i may not be choosing my words as well. if you don't mean any of the things i've mentioned, though, this may actually be a new argument to me, and i'd like to know more about it (i probably won't be checking for another response until morning though so take your time). again, i do wish you well.

Hello again!! 🤗🤗 This is probably the part where our differences come out a bit more so bear with me!! This is all in good faith. :))

I do support anyone's right to dress as they want and call themselves what they want, however I see the words woman and man to mean adult human female/male. That means nothing at all except an accurate biological descriptor of humans, and it matters to have words to describe our physical differences, because a) it's just reality that we're built different and b) women are oppressed on the basis of those physical differences. 'Adult human female' frees up the definition of woman from being "feminine" or "baby-makers" (barf) and vice versa from men being "masculine" or "tough". It means you can do literally anything you want, be whoever you want, call yourself whatever you want and you will be no less of a woman/man. To me this is more progressive than doing away with biological descriptors and only going off of stereotypes. This is why I reblogged posts saying trans women are men; it's not mean or bigoted for the sake of it, they're just an adult human male, and the word for that is man. I've seen trans people's definition of man and woman and it doesn't sit right with me, because it lends itself to a lot of stereotypes. It's why some posts about this are combative from radfems, because we take offense at the idea that we're being reduced down to a feeling when our oppression is so very sex-based. What makes them women apart from a connection to the cultural stereotype of 'woman'? What does 'woman' even mean, then? If you take away the biological definition, it means nothing at all, because women aren't a monolith or share some spiritual essence of womanhood; we all have varied experiences. Saying that no, there's a specific 'womanly feeling' that all women have seems downright spiritual, and that's one of the reasons why radfems dismiss it so readily; to us it has no basis in reality and is similar to religious beliefs. We are gender abolitionists.

We don't believe you can change sex because... you can't. You mentioned plastic surgery, and radfems are against it for cosmetic reasons, simply because we oppose surgically conforming to beauty standards that are harmful and socially constructed. We want people to be encouraged to be happy in themselves, dammit! ❤️ People can imitate the other sex, but you can never actually change it because that's just impossible. A surgically constructed vagina is not as complicated and self-cleaning the same as a female vagina. Breast implants are plastic and don't have a complicated network of ducts like female breasts do. Do you see what I mean?

As for sports, yes, sex does matter, as much as I want to duke it out equally against a male. We have different muscle mass, different fibres, different testosterone levels and different areas of strength as a group. Yes, some of these overlap between the sexes, but not enough to do away with sex classification. A 6" man is going to be statistically far stronger than a 6" women, even with similar training. This isn't to say women are weak, because hell no. Again, women are not weak, it's just that we define weakness in a way that benefits the quick-fibre, burst muscle strength of men, whereas women are stronger over a longer time, and are more physically superior (?) in pretty much every other biological way (such as muscle regrowth, disease resistance, harsh weather resistance, pain tolerance, etc etc.). Women fight for spaces where we can be recognised by our own potential, not competing against the standards set for men, by men. The slowest male swimmer, for instance, is still faster than the fastest female swimmer. We aren't inferior because of it, we just want to be judged on our own merits.

For more mental sports such as chess, no; men and women are not different. The issue is misogyny and having a space for women. Men can be incredibly cruel in these spaces, and it's proven that women often perform worse against men because of internalised misogyny/misogyny coming from their opponent. Women just want to play in a space that lets them reach their full potential, and that means no men!

This is quite long 😮‍💨 I'm glad we're having this conversation, and I'm taking in what you're saying with an open mind! I just hope I've laid out my ideas well enough. Looking forward to debating more! 🫶🫶

[anamericangirl]

Hey there, I discovered your blog a few days ago and have been reading all your posts since, and I must say I like them very much. I do have one question though, on the topic of abortion. I wouldn't say I am pro abortion, because to me, all life is valuable. But what would you say if an underage girl was r@ped? Cases like this have occurred, there was even a girl that got pregnant at four years old, and had the child at five, which was a result of her uncle r@ping her.

In cases like that, would you say that abortion may be an option, maybe even a good one? She herself was only a toddler, and carrying out a pregnancy at such a young age is a great threat to both the mother and the child, and could mean the death of both. Also, in this specific case, it was %ncest, which could have fatal consequences for the child later on.

I'd just like to hear your opinion on this.

Hi! Thanks so much!

When a child, or anyone, is raped that is a horrific circumstance that absolutely needs to be addressed. And if that rape resulted in a pregnancy, that creates an even more delicate situation and it needs to be addressed in a way that causes the least harm and doesn't bring about even more violence.

The foundation of my pro-life position is that the preborn baby is a living human being from the moment of conception and their life is just as valuable as the girl carrying them, regardless of how they were conceived. Because of this, I can't support abortion even in cases of rape.

If a minor is raped and becomes pregnant, the thing is now we don't just have one person we have to consider and care for. We have two. Two children. Both innocent. We can't kill one innocent child for the sake of another.

This is also because I care about the child who was raped. Even though I can completely understand the fear and sympathize with the victim, the fact is, as I've discussed a lot on my blog, abortion isn't safe. And it remains not safe even if the person undergoing it is a child. A child should never be pregnant or have to go through childbirth, but nor should they ever have to have an abortion.

Even though a pregnant child is never a good thing, biologically speaking, if a female, regardless of age, is capable of getting pregnant, then her body is capable of undergoing the birth process. What the child needs is thorough medical care and monitoring because the best and safest thing is to go through the natural process instead of an invasive procedure that forces her body to birth a dead baby long before it's ready.

Abortion doesn't erase the baby. It kills them. And then it makes the mother deliver her dead baby and dispose of them. It's a horrific thing to happen.

The girl and the baby are innocent and we can help the girl heal from her traumatic experience without killing a different child whose only crime is existing. They can both live. Even if it's incest, the baby doesn't deserve to be killed. They deserve to be given a chance at life.

The fact is, once a girl or woman is pregnant, the baby has to be delivered somehow. There's no getting around that. Abortion doesn't erase this fact or erase the trauma of the rape. In fact, many rape victims have said getting an abortion did not help their healing. Everyone thinks giving birth once pregnant is the ultimate form of torture and trauma but it's not. And only people who don't know anything about childbirth and are just trying to villainize pro-lifers would call childbirth a trauma inducing experience. No, a child should never have to endure it but abortion would be no less of a traumatizing experiencing for a child. I think it would be horrific to give birth to a corpse. I don't think there is ever a time where killing an innocent child is a good option.

Abortion in cases of rape is just continuing the cycle of violence by killing a person who didn't do anything wrong and doesn't deserve it. It's not safer for a child to go through an abortion procedure than it is to give birth and as someone who cares about the baby and the rape victim I can't ever endorse abortion. There are always other, better options.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Bahaha guess what guys I lied, this is gonna be nine chapters total lollll- I promise last time 😭 BIGGEST SHOUT OUT EVER TO @cashmoneyyysstuff for beta reading and being a huge influence on the story - girl's literally my idol go follow her 🤍 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, war, reader gets hurt and burned alive (a lot), reader almost dies again, gore and blood, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, ANGST, someone breaks into reader's house, Eri sleeps with reader bc she's traumatized, PTSD,

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Warrior

How did the enemy know you were planning to ambush them? 

Your entire life, you always believed Fate would either provide you answers, or spur on more questions. 

Right now, you thought, it seemed to give you both. 

It was late at night when you woke up, heart pounding from some nightmare of which the details of seemed fuzzy now. It was silent, but instead of ambience, the lack of sound seemed eerie to you.  

You weren’t a stranger to this happening, random panic attacks and nightmares caused by underlying trauma that you refused to come to terms with.  

You tighten your arms around your younger sister, asleep, the girl insisted she sleep with you from now on in fear that you would leave again (though she didn’t want to admit that she just heavily missed your presence). You didn’t mind, and to be honest, your usual nightmares had been decreasing after the comfort of another human being by your side.  

Laying back down slowly, you brush off your paranoia, heart pounding and you feel the hairs along your skin rise along with a multitude of gooseflesh.  

Something wasn’t right.  

Siting up slowly, you rouse your sister to consciousness, sleepy red eyes blinking back at you in confusion. 

“Y/N...” Eri mumbled, disoriented, but you silence her.  

“Banana, go get Toshi and stay in Dad’s room.” You say, your tone low and firm.  

Her eyes widen in fear, but she nods, scurrying out of the room as quickly as she can.  

You sigh, your family would be safe if you could get rid of the nagging thought in the back of your mind.  

Creeping towards the door, you stop. You rub your abdomen, where the scar from your last battle resided. Tonight, you knew someone was about to get hurt. 

Suddenly, a loud crash reverberates through your home and the wooden door splinters from impact. 

Your eyes widen as a figure clad in black smashes into your home, two daggers unsheathed as he creeps towards you slowly and menacingly.  

The Inimicus insignia flashes in the moonlight and your heart sinks.  

They found you.

You curse under your breath, months to years of training now springing into action purely based on instinct, rolling out of the assailant’s attempt at stabbing you and using the opportunity to grab your sword that was hidden under the sofa. 

Just in case. 

Your family worried about you- saying that you were being too paranoid, your father the most worried of them all considering he felt the same pain you did. But he understood you needed an outlet for your anxieties- just as he released his, you learned, through training you when you were younger. 

He figured that if hiding weapons around the house would ease you a little bit, then it would be beneficial to have your worries about being attacked put at ease. 

Before - prior to any of this - you would’ve relished being right, the satisfaction of an ‘i told you so’

But oh, but you wished you were wrong right now.

You feel your body relax in the slightest when you hear the soft click the the back door closing- your family was at least out of the house. If there were even more assailants outside, your father could handle them alongside Hitoshi. 

But you couldn’t let your guard down, unsheathing your sword from its scabbard and adjusting your footing to maintain a low crouch. During your time training and fighting, you learned to develop your fighting style - yours in particular was more unorthodox compared to the usual ones your peers took on. Most soldiers preferred attacking the higher points of the body, maybe attempting decapitation or a fatal respiratory injury as a way to take down an opponent. 

You on the other hand, stuck closer to the ground, as to you, when it came to combat, balance was the most important. If you maintain yours, while depriving your opponent of their own, you would have a tremendous advantage as you have a clear opening to immobilize instead of eradicate. 

However, this was a different circumstance. 

This man had not only broken into your home, but posed a threat to your family. And for that, you knew your tactics would have you change up a little bit. 

You had most definitely improved after your tualia with Bakugou, and even after your first and upsettingly last battle as well having decided to train yourself under your father’s supervision the months after you came home. 

Your crouch turns from defensive to offensive, adjusting your stance and pushing off of the ground hooking your arm to the leg opposite of it and swinging it out to bring your elbow straight into his legs, forcing him to fall down as you pin them down with just your arm. 

Working quickly, your leg swings out to step on his abdomen, drawing your sword and placing the tip right next to his artery, under his ear. 

“How many of you are there?” you ask coldly, rage flowing through your veins as you press your sword deeper into his neck when he refuses to respond. 

Small beads of blood gather on the tip of your sword and your opponent panics, slowing bringing his hands up to show he means no harm, and removes his mask to reveal a shock of blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.

You deadpan. What was it with blonde boys in your life?

“P-Please don’t kill me..!” he whimpers, tears pouring down his face (a very punchable face, for the record).

Already? You barely scratched him, you think to yourself, slightly disappointed that it was this easy.

“How. many. of. you. are. there.” you say, lowly, enunciating your words as if it could hammer the meaning into this idiot’s brain. 

“F-Forty s-seven.” he sobs, and your eyes widen.

Your heart sinks. Forty seven men?! Your village didn’t even have the numbers for that many soldiers… how were you going to get everyone out of this alive. 

“Look…” you trail off, realizing you didn’t know the man’s name. 

Then again did you really want to? Knowing his name made him seem more humane, more…like you. Suddenly, the man underneath your feet turning into the man you killed in the Chiara Forest, your heart rate spiking and overwhelming guilt clawing at your brain. 

Shit.

 Your opponent doesn’t know your panic though, and shudders underneath you, starting to mumble out his name. 

“I’m Aoy-” he starts, but you cut him off, something snapping inside of you. 

“Just stop. Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to tie you up and leave you in the well. You are going to call for help. I need you to scream.” You growl, the look in your eyes deadly, hinting as to what would happen if he didn’t follow your directions. 

However, the man nods vigorously, and you do exactly what you told him, using some tough rope you found in the shed to bind his wrists and feet together once positioning his limbs in a way that would be painful if he tried to adjust or move them, using a cloth to gag him temporarily for the journey to the well outside of the Kirishima’s home. 

How ironic is it, that this all started from that same well, and now it could all end there too?

You heft the man into your back, the size difference unconcerning to you given that you were strong, and he weighed absolutely nothing. How did this shrimp even manage to be eligible for the military in the first place?

 You hear a crash outside, flinching and realizing that you probably weren’t the only one fighting these Inimican spies. And you most definitely were the only one with enough fighting experience in this village. 

You had to work fast.

Deciding to leave your home through the backdoor, you slip out quietly, breathing in relief when you don’t see any black clad assailants there waiting to ambush you. 

Making your way to the Kirishima’s along a secluded path you knew by heart, you make your way to the well, wrapping your fingers around the rope and tugging it experimentally to see if it would support the blonde man’s weight. It seemed sturdy enough and so you hefted his figure onto the side of the well, making sure he held onto the rope tightly enough, and you removed the cloth covering his mouth. 

You don’t give him a chance to say anything, holding the front of his shirt with a relentless grip as you stare at him in his eyes, wide with fear. 

“If you don’t do what you’re told, I’ll end you here and now.” you whisper, no malice in your tone, and yet that makes the words even more chilling. 

The man nods frantically, releasing him and watching him descend down the well at a rapid pace, hearing a thud and a crunch one he makes it to the bottom, making you wince a little bi.t At least he wasn’t dead, the echoing cry he let out when he reached the floor was a dead giveaway. 

You hear him start screaming, his voice strained and raspy from the amount of sobbing he’d done, and the echoes of the well amplify the pitiful sound, the desperation definitely evident.

Doing all of this felt wrong, but honestly, you didn’t really care at the moment. Your village was in danger. 

You heard some footsteps approaching in the distance, putting your plan in action and slipping into the shadows of the Kirishima home. 

“Aoyama!” a deep male voice calls out. “Is that you?” 

From where you were, you could see a shock of white hair and electric blue eyes. And his face… it was mottled almost, littered with so many scars the lower half of his face looked purple.

“L-Lieutenant Dabi! D-Down here!” the man who you realize is called Aoyama croaks out, ruining your wish for the blonde to remain anonymous, but that didn’t deter you.

You had a mission.

Hearing three more pairs of footsteps, you see three figures to match, including a man with skin so oily it looked like verdant scales, a blonde man with haunted blue eyes, and a wild haired brunette with amber eyes. 

“Wait-  is he in the well?” the blonde snickers, only for his amused expression to be taken over by a stricken expression of grief. “Oh shit, is he okay?!”

It was an odd display of events, but you chose not to comment on it as the one called Dabi commanded his men.

“Shuichi, use your sword to cut the rope- then if we dangle it low enough we can pull him out.” the white haired man says, the oily skinned man nodding in assent and drawing his sword out of its sheath. 

You remembered during your time in the military about the weapons the Inimicans preferred, the most common being that of a katana. You, on the other hand, used something else. The Belloran army had a tendency to use weapons with more power, valuing strength over speed, something you picked up on once seeing the heavier swords in their arsenal, and of course, your fight with Bakugou.

But when you trained, you trained for speed, choosing to fight with dual swords instead. Dual swords, you learned, paired with your fighting style, allowed you to become the best of both worlds, both refined and strategic which aligned with Inimican fight styles which still being able to channel heavy amounts of strength and power into every strike, making you a formidable opponent for both Inimcans and Bellorans alike. 

The one called Shuichi approached the well, cutting the rope and making sure Aoyama was securely holding on before he started hoisting it. 

Now was your chance. Over the past few months of training, your father recommended carrying metal stars with sharp serrated edges. He said it would help practice your aim as well as your concentration as to where you enforced your strength. Ever since then you started to train with them, and they were always on your person or in a place easily accessed no matter where you were.

Thank the gods for that, you think, taking one of the stars from the folds of your clothes, and holding it in between your index and middle finger. 

You take a deep breath, angling the star ever so slightly and positioning it. And then…

Release.

The star slices through the air like it’s nothing, pure strength over powering wind resistance as it slices through the rope of the well in twine. 

You hear Aoyama’s agonized screams as he falls again, shallow breaths echoing and reverberating through the well, hauntingly.

But you can’t let the horror overtake you, knowing that in the midst of battle, feelings are to be processed later. Even so, you can’t help but wonder if this is what Katsuki meant- true strength of a warrior meant coming to terms with the conflicts outside of you but inside as well. 

Stop it, you chide yourself, taking advantage of the group’s momentary distraction and running quickly, tackling the closest man next to you, the one with amber eyes. 

Your dual swords each target vital areas of the man’s body, your forearm tightening around his neck as one sword is grazing his artery on his neck and the over ever so slightly hovers over his abdomen, ready to plunge into his torso. 

It’s a threat. And one that they know you’re capable of, given by the steely glint in your eye.

Two of the men spring to action, forgetting about Aoyama, the one called Shuichi drawing his blade and the blond getting into a fighting stance, as the brunette lays deathly still in your arms, one wrong move and he’s dead. 

However, the first man, Dabi, seems unfazed. He gives you a lazy smirk, and waves his hand nonchalantly. 

“At ease, you two. I don’t feel like killing her just yet…” he drawls, brimming with overconfidence. “She reminds me of a little poppy, no? A pretty flower of death. And yet so easily crushed the moment a boot iss brought down upon it.”

You feel rage boil up inside you. How pompous is this asshole to think he could defeat you so easily?!

Then again, you thought about your fight with Bakugou. You were by no means weak, and you reassured yourself that. But even so, Bakugou managed to win. Would you lose against Dabi too?

And this time…you wouldn’t be spared as you would in a tualia. This is war. 

“Let me strike you a deal, poppy.” he says, stepping closer. “Let’s battle it out, me against you. My men won’t interfere. If you win, I will escort my troops out of your village.”

“If I win,” his grin turns deadly. “Well let’s hope that doesn’t happen, huh poppy?”

You narrow your eyes, tightening your grip on your swords. You could almost smell the power radiating off of this man, but you knew that if you didn’t take his offer, your village wouldn't stand a chance.

You exhale slowly, glaring at the cocky man in front of you. 

“Deal.”

***

Maybe, you realized, his overconfidence was earned. 

You weren’t a stranger to fighting losing battles. From your tualia with Bakugou to dumb arguments with your siblings, you always kept going, even though the outcome was going to be the same. 

In front of you, stood Dabi, the man in question had waved his men away to scout the village for more rope to rescue Aoyama with. 

And in the Lieutenants hand, there was a sphere. 

Magic, in your world, was a rare commodity - and even rarer was one who could manage to wield it. Common forms of magic called yose were sold in the richer markets, and if you could find them, they were used more like a collectors item, a mark of status if you had one, which showed just how rare it was in the first place. Most, when attempting to use magic, had their physical forms decay from the inside because their mortal forms couldn’t handle power used by celestial beings.

However, there was a gene that resided in a total of nine families in the world, (one for each god) who was blessed to be able to wield said power.

And you had the misfortune to encounter one of them.

The sphere in Dabi’s hand was bright blue, and yet it didn’t resemble that of water or ice, instead the sphere consisted solely of cerulean flames - you could feel the temperature drop as soon as it materialized. 

When you were young, Chiyo told you stories about each of the families, each of high status and a standing in any family was extremely coveted globally. 

Fire… Dabi was a Todoroki. 

Shit.

You were, inadvertently, fucked. 

“This is what it’s like to play with fire, poppy.” he grins, a manic look taking over his face. 

You grimace, lowering yourself into a fighting stance.

This was going to hurt. 

With a yell, you charge at Dabi’s unmoving form, your feet moving you, faster, quicker, allowing you to flow with the wind. 

Horror washes over you as flames engulf his hand, and then his arms, blue flames licking his skin but he doesn’t show any sign of being in pain.

You desperately slash at his neck and chest, bringing your arms to form an X before slashing outwards. But your blades do nothing, as Dabi mimics the same X and thrusts his arms forwards, shooting flames out in every direction. 

“Ah fuck!” you grit, tears pricking your eyes as flames burn through your flame, creating scalding burns in their wake.

Your swords clatter to the ground, your hands in so much pain you couldn’t feel them. Where the fuck did he find magic so powerful?! No market sold enough yose to generate enough power like that…

“Aw, down already?” Dabi pouts, “I thought you’d burn a little slower.”

You muster up the iciest glare you could. “F-Fuck you, you damn sadist.” You spit, venom dripping from your tone. 

Dabi only smiles. “C’mon poppy, that’s no way to talk. We’re having so much fun, afterall.”

You wanted to kill him. 

Your whole body protested, screaming in pain, bloodied fingers, grasping the hilt of your nearby sword.

You run at him again, flames again searing your skin, but you keep running, pain now shooting up your leg as you lunge at Dabi, an amused expression on his face as you keep running, plunging your sword into his shoulder.

This clearly takes him by surprise, wondering where your spontaneous bout of strength came from as blood drips down his torso, a bright red that was accentuated from the coming sunrise, rosy rays peaking out of the horizon. 

Dabi’s smirk goes away, replaced with an impassive expression as he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls the sword out of his shoulder with his other hand.

Suddenly, the world spins, lack of blood, oxygen, mixed with overwhelming pain and fatigue made it hard to keep your eyes open. 

Shit!

The panic sets it, fuck were you going to die, actually die?!

The last thing you smell is the scent of melting flesh waft into the air as everything goes black.

The last this you see are those sickening electric blue eyes, and wide bloodied grin.

The last thing you hear is Ejiro’s voice yelling “Y/N?!”

Wait.

Ejiro?!

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