#my beautiful blue demiguy

[setepenre-set]

Rebel Rebel

The prison doctor, not knowing anything about Megamind’s species, marks the blue infant down on the government paperwork as ‘female’ instead of ‘male’. This, as Megamind grows up, turns out to be unfortunate.

(trans demiguy Megamind)

M rating, eventual Megamind/Roxanne

AO3 | FFN

Everybody at the prison calls the blue child ‘it’ but treats her like a boy until it’s time to enroll her in school, and then they wonder why she doesn’t know how to wear dresses.

She gets put in the corner repeatedly for ‘inappropriate behavior’ when she forgets to sit with her knees together, when she turns upside on the monkey bars and her skirt flips itself over.

She still sets things on fire on accident, still talks weird, still knows too much (know-it-all, show-off, you’d have more friends if you’d learn to be quiet and smile like a good girl).

The teacher still hates her.

Wayne Scott tells her that she looks like a boy and suggests that she glue a bow to her head ‘like they do to bald babies, so you can tell it’s a girl’ and then everybody laughs when he pretends like he’s going to do it with a piece of pink construction paper during art class.

Dodgeball still happens; she still makes her helmet of spikes.

She adds glitter to the blue paint bomb.

“--when little girls get violent, it’s usually a sign that there’s something severely psychologically wrong with them--”

(a tone of concern, honey and poison)

The thing is--the thing is, she just doesn’t get it, doesn’t get the whole Girl Thing. Is it glitter and skirts? She likes one and sort of likes the other. Is it shut up and let the boys talk? Is it something else?

Why doesn’t she get it?

Why can’t she get it?

What’s wrong with her?

Be a good girl.

Be a good girl.

Be a good girl.

She’s never been very good at ‘good’.

She’s not very good at ‘girl’, either.

In highschool, she doesn’t grow breasts. Her hips don’t widen. 

(does her body know that she’s broken, somehow? is that why it’s not doing what it’s supposed to?)

She wears layers, so many layers, wanting to cover up her skin, her shape, her wrongness.

“--dresses like a boy--”

“--too ugly to be a girl--”

(whispers and sly looks out of the corners of their eyes and laughter hidden behind hands)

"What are you?” asks a boy rudely, in the hall.

(she doesn’t know)

“It’s okay, Miss,” Minion says, his voice soothing, “they’re just stupid; what they say doesn’t matter.”

“Minion,” she says slowly, uncertainly. “Do you--think you might be able to call me something else?”

“Like what, Miss?”

“...like--sir?”

“I’d never hit a lady,” Wayne Scott says with that smug smile when Megamind flinches reflexively back after he raises his fist.

Megamind makes it a personal goal to get himself punched by Wayne Scott.

When he gets the abdominal cramps for the first time, he wants to scream. It isn’t fair!

He’s just finally figured it out--

(he thinks. sort of. kind of. mostly.)

--and now his body decides it’s going to be ‘girl’ after all? Now?

But the blood doesn’t come. And his chest doesn’t develop, his hips don’t widen.

The cramps ebb and recede--sometimes sharp agonizing pain, sometimes a dull throb. But there’s no blood.

The first time he has a sex dream, he wakes up half-panicked, half-distraught. It wasn’t a very clear dream, just the sound of waves and the feeling of water around his body, darkness and someone stroking their hands over his head, over his neck and chest and abdomen and then lower, and then the press of lips against his ear and their voice whispering I love you.

He feels like he’s dying when he wakes up, his skin hot and prickling, his heart pounding in his chest, and there’s a weird twisting, squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The slit between his legs is slick; he can feel it, and it almost aches--a feeling like hunger, but not quite hunger, and he lies awake for a long time frantically wishing the sensation, the memory of the dream to go away, but they don’t and--

He does--have some idea of what it is he’s wanting, and even if he didn’t, the way his entire body is screaming touch me please would be a pretty clear indicator.

(A prison cell isn’t exactly private, but the guard won’t be passing by for another thirty minutes and--)

He bites his lip and hesitantly reaches up to touch the curve of his head, and then he has to bite his lip harder to keep from moaning.

(god oh god oh god)

He runs a fingertip over the outer edge of his ear, remembering the pressure of lips there, in his dream, remembering the voice that said I love you, and heat flares between his legs, the squirming feeling there getting more intense.

Megamind runs his palms down his body in imitation of the hands of his dream, remembering the sound of waves, the feeling of safety and of--being loved.

(he wants, oh, he wants)

His hands are shaking as he unbuttons his prison uniform, as he steels himself and shoves it down his body, down past his hips, then kicks it off entirely.

There’s enough light from the walkway between the rows of cells for him to see his body: the flat blue chest and abdomen, his trembling, slightly bent knees, the toes of his feet curled slightly on the scratchy prison sheets.

The slit between his legs is dripping wet, glistening in the half-light, and surely that can’t be right, can it? There’s--so much of it, and the consistency is--weird. But.

(fuck it; he’s come this far)

He touches himself between his legs, fingertips sliding through the wetness, brushing down the line of the slit. A wave of pleasure goes through him and he presses his palm down, rubs himself a little harder--then a little harder--then a little harder--

His hips stutter up in an uneven rhythm, pushing himself against his hand, and it feels good, so good, but it isn’t enough, isn’t--

That aching hunger-feeling, and the squirming heat in the pit of his stomach, and he does have a pretty good idea of what to do, so he swallows his revulsion, braces himself, and pushes two fingers inside of himself.

This time his hips snap upwards, shoving him onto his fingers, and he’s so caught up in the feeling, so caught up in pushing his free hand into his mouth so that he won’t cry out, that he can almost forget the his self-disgust, the way he’s fingering himself like a girl, the way his body is weird and inhuman and disgusting and--

should it--? should it feel like that, inside of him? like it’s, almost like it’s--moving--?

Blue tentacles slither past his fingers and out of his body and it’s a good thing that he already had his hand in his mouth to muffle his exclamation of 

(shock/horror/oh god tentacles what the fuck)

and then he falls off the bed.

So that’s.

A fun surprise.

On the bright side, he’s--less physically female than originally assumed. On the not so bright side TENTACLES WHAT IN THE NAME OF LOVECRAFT--

NO.

NO NO NO.

(no one is ever going to want this. he doesn’t want this.)

Life continues to happen.

Unfortunately.

Getting people to call him ‘he’ is even more difficult than getting them to call him ‘Megamind’.

When the newspapers insist on calling him a “Supervillainess” he wants to kill something.

Preferably Metro Man, goddamn Wayne Scott, who’s never had any trouble getting people to listen to him, getting people to like him, getting people to see him as a man.

“Megamind is safely behind bars now,” Metro Man announces, smiling for the cameras, white teeth glinting, “You don’t need to worry about her any longer, citizens!”

Megamind, in his cell, snarls at the television.

He grows a goatee.

It doesn’t really help as much as he was hoping.

“This gender confusion is really just another sign that of serious psychological issues,” the talk show host says earnestly, and Metro Man nods, looking appropriately concerned for Megamind’s mental health and Megamind hates everyone and everything.

He’s not confused.

(well--maybe he is, a little bit, maybe he can’t quite fit himself into the box labeled ‘male’, no matter how hard he shoves, but it still fits better than the box labeled ‘female’ and--)

Fuck them. Fuck it.

(Roxanne, as always, comes as a surprise.)

“Oh my god, are you all right?” she asks.

Megamind, still smoking slightly (damn Metro Man and his poor control of his eye lasers), looks up at her dazedly from his place on the ground.

“Wh--?” he says.

(is he all right? she wants to know if he’s all right? he just took her hostage and threatened her! what is she doing, helping him put out the flames on his cape, asking him if he’s all right, looking like she’s actually concerned?) “Excuse me, Miss,” Metro Man says, heroic smile in place, “I’ll just need you to step aside so I can take her into custody--”

“He was on fire! You just set him on fire!” the woman says--no--snarls, turning on the hero with blazing eyes. “You almost set me on fire; what the hell is wrong with you?”

Metro Man stares at her, mouth working stupidly. Then he pulls himself together, shoulders squaring.

“I know you’ve had a shock, Miss,” he says, hands held out placatingly, “but I assure you that you’re no longer in any danger. Megamind will be taken to the prison; the citizens of this fair city will be safe from her evil and--”

“Why do you keep calling him ‘her’?” the woman asks, giving Metro Man a look of incredulous distain.

Again Metro Man’s mouth falls open and he stares at her with an expression of stupid surprise.

The woman turns to Megamind. Her blue eyes are snapping, her eyebrows drawn together; anger seems to crackle off of her like electricity.

“Are you okay?” she asks again.

She calls him ‘he’ throughout her entire post-battle report, and Megamind, sitting in his cell in the women’s wing of the penitentiary, watches her with rapt attention.

They move him to the male wing the next week, after Roxanne Ritchi shows up at the prison and asks some pointed questions on air.

Of course--of course good things can never last, and Metro Man always wins; he starts dating Miss Ritchi, but Megamind swallows down his bitter disappointment and tells himself that at least now he has a reason to kidnap her.

Life continues to happen. This--seems slightly less unfortunate than it used to.

Pretending to be Bernard is lying on multiple levels, but it’s addicting--nobody messes up his pronouns, nobody screams when they see him.

Roxanne smiles at him. Smiles. At him. And this is the most addicting thing of all.

He doesn’t have a plan for this. When Minion says “what happens when Roxanne finds out who you really are?” Megamind feels panic welling up inside of his chest. 

(why did he have to be like this; why did he have to be this evil, ugly, inhuman thing; why did he have to be broken and wrong and unlovable)

(what is he going to do?)

He stands in front of a broken mirror and twists the dial of the disguise watch and sees the face of a normal man appear.

“Did you really think that I would ever be with you?” Roxanne asks, and the only answer to that, the only possible answer is no.

No, in so many ways, and when she turns and walks away from him, it feels like the world’s ending, feels like he’s dying, but it doesn’t feel anything like unexpected.

Roxanne, though, as always, comes as a surprise, and after Tighten, when she throws her arms around him, when she coaxes him into putting the de-gun back in its holster, when she laces their hands together--

When they stand in her apartment that night, both of them tired and sore, and she turns suddenly towards him, gives him a hard look that makes his heart stutter, then leans forward and kisses him.

“You’re going to come and see me tomorrow,” she tells him firmly, when she pulls away, "and then we are going to talk.”

He nods at her dazedly.

He does come back the next day. And the day after that. All of the days after that. And they do talk--about everything.

(about things he never thought he could tell anyone, but he tells Roxanne and she understands)

And, eventually, they--do things besides talk.

He’s terribly nervous, the first time Roxanne takes his clothes off; he doesn’t know if he’s more nervous to let her see him before he extends his tentacles, or afterwards. But Roxanne--Roxanne just smiles, and touches him gently, and leans close, her lips pressed to his ear as she whispers I love you and

and--everything is fine. More than fine.

Everything is amazing.

And later, eventually:

Roxanne smirks down at him, slow and predatory, and Megamind, his wrists tied to the headboard of their bed, can’t stop himself from whimpering.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” she says.

He does, and Roxanne’s smile widens as she runs her hands up his legs, over his trembling, bent knees, as she pushes up the material of the skirt he’s wearing.

“Look at you, so wet for me,” Roxanne says, dragging her fingertips over the slit between his legs, making him moan.

She dips one finger into him, light and teasing, and he moans again. Roxanne takes her hand away. Megamind makes a noise of protest, but then she’s leaning down over him, her arms braced on either side of his head.

The tip of the toy attached to the harness that she’s wearing presses against him, teasing like her fingers.

"Roxanne--” he gasps.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Roxanne asks archly.

“Please,” Megamind begs her. “Please, Roxanne, please--”

She smiles down at him in approval.

“There’s my good boy,” she says, and thrusts forward.

"I love you," Roxanne says afterwards, when they're lying together, sweaty and exhausted and satisfied.

"I love you, too," Megamind says.

Life continues to happen.

And it’s good.

                                                            💙

notes: title is from the song by David Bowie. 

(@lynati​ you may recognize some of the headcanons we talked about a while ago!)