#but the point is that that isn't the point

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Okay. Say you ask a small child to draw you a house, and they come up with something like this:

For the purposes of this analogy the child is shit at colouring in, because I only wanted to give the general idea.

So, we can all agree that the child who draws a house probably isn't trying to communicate anything in particular other than “look at this cool house I drew”, right?

Cool.

So… Why is it seemingly in the middle of nowhere, when most children live in houses with neighbours?

Why is the main body a square and the roof a solid triangle when that doesn't look like any house that has ever been built anywhere?

Why does it have a wood-burning stove with smoke actively coming out of the chimney, even though the sun indicates warm weather?

Why is the sun smiling? Why is it yellow?

Answer: because the child has seen picture books, and films, and the drawings of other children, and has on some level absorbed that this is what a house is meant to look like.

Face to face, the child almost certainly wouldn't know where to begin communicating “yellow is a colour culturally associated with happiness and warmth, and two dots accompanied by a curved line symbolically represent a smiling human face, so I have combined these attributes with the sun to convey that it is a very warm and pleasant day”.

Or “historically most houses in my country used fire for heat and cooking, and even though this is no longer the case for the majority of households, most media portrayals of houses are inspired by other, older, media portrayals and therefore include the chimney. I have chosen to follow this trend.”

Or even, “I have poor motor control because of my age, and large, 2 dimensional shapes are easier to draw than anything involving detail and perspective”.

Yet this is all information that you can pick up from detailed study of the house drawing.

Ultimately, it's not about what the writer intended. That's what the whole death of the author thing means.

If you think of literature like as a conversation, then think of all the analysis stuff that your English teacher keeps trying to get you to look at as like body language. It's the stuff that the other person doesn't even necessarily mean to communicate, but that can tell you a hell of a lot about what they mean.

[doberbutts]

With this latest round of discourse being "trans men shouldn't complain about being kicked out of women's spaces", I felt the urge to write up a relatively long post regarding the topic, as I feel it is a long tangled mess and involves a significant amount of people simply talking past each other.

To begin, what is a woman's space? I ask this, because "women's spaces" often fall under one of three categories: medical services, social services, and social gatherings. Of the three, trans men need access to nearly everything if not everything included within "medical services" and "social services". These things often need to be considered co-ed anyway, but are still considered "for women" and often are labeled things like "women's health" or "women's defense". Social gatherings- things such as book clubs, concerts, festivals, and other similar outings- can have a nuanced and complicated history when it comes to the inclusion, or exclusion, of trans men.

As an example- I am a binary, gay trans man who has not yet been sterilized. If I become pregnant and need to seek out social services, I must do so via my provider's "Women and Babies" department. I am neither of those things, and yet regardless of whether I am completing or terminating the pregnancy, I must label myself a woman in order to receive care. If I wish to have a pap smear, receive birth control, or investigate my chances of ovarian and cervical cancer, I must do so via the "Women's Health Clinic". I am not a woman, but I must label myself as one in order to discuss sterilization options. Many trans men who have had their gender markers changed prior to sterilization have reported difficulty even booking an appointment, as well as difficulty convincing their insurance to pay for this appointment due to a discrepancy with gender markers vs gendered care. Many have discussed the realities of being a pregnant man, whether they remained pregnant until their child was born, or whether they terminated said pregnancy with an abortion.

It should come as no surprise that the statistics for trans men receiving quality gynecological care are abysmal. It should be equally unsurprising to hear how many trans men have died from botched abortions, untreated miscarriages, infections and cancers of the uterus and cervix and ovaries, and complications during pregnancy or birth. We belong in this space, despite it being labeled "for women", and the only thing pushing us out has done is quite literally what's been killing us.

This is, of course, not even taking into account the numbers of trans men who have been forced to become pregnant via their husbands or families as a means to detransition them, and those who have become pregnant as a result of corrective rape. There is a saying among trans men of my age- it isn't "we all know a guy this has happened to", it's "which of us haven't experienced this? who among us doesn't fear this? who will it happen to next?"

Which brings me to my next point: women's social services. As with women's medical care, nearly everything labeled "for women" as a social service must be inclusive to trans men. Shelters for domestic violence survivors, rape crisis centers, self defense classes, family planning, these are all things that honestly should already be co-ed. But, many times, they are exclusively targeted towards women. I understand why, I do. But with trans men being statistically more likely than cis women to experience the need for these services, it seems a cruelty to close their doors to a vulnerable demographic reaching out for help.

Where should trans men in crisis go? Shutting the door to us without addressing the reason we need to access these resources gives us a single ultimatum: detransition, or die. Go back to being a woman, or die knowing the likelihood that a woman's name will adorn your headstone, and "daughter, wife, mother" will be said in your obituary. Much like the medical services, this incomplete answer has lead many trans men to their deaths. Whether by their own hands, or by their attackers'.

But there are other social services out there that perhaps are not as dire. Women's scholarships, colleges, all girls schools. Girl Scouts, women's sport leagues, gym memberships. Trans men don't need access to these, right?

Well... is the trans man in question out? Has he been living as a man, or is he still closeted? Is it safe for him to come out? Does he pass, or has he just bought his first binder and given himself his first buzz cut? Is he living under the control of his parents, or is he able to freely decide for himself the type of person he'd like to be and the type of life he'd like to live?

You see, I was a Girl Scout once. And, if we are to believe to our core that trans men are men even before they know the words "transgender", this means I was a boy in a girl's space. I didn't know that being transgender was an option for me at the point where my troop disbanded, and another leader to replace the first within my local area was not found until after I had aged out.

But also... I was in 7th grade when my troop disbanded. Two years later, I would learn the word "transgender", and suddenly everything would make sense. Two years later, I would come out to my parents and my sisters. To put this into perspective, I graduated high school in 2010. The Boy Scouts officially allowed cisgender girls and transgender people of all genders to join all programs in 2019.

I was not expelled from my Girl Scout troop. My leader simply stopped showing up to meetings, and my troop disbanded to go our separate ways when leadership could not find someone quickly enough to replace her. But... if this had not happened, I would have been a recently out transgender boy in a girl's social service, still wearing push up bras and frilly shirts because that's all my parents would buy me until I became an adult and moved out and had a job with my own money to re-purchase myself a wardrobe. Indistinguishable from any of the others, outside of what went on inside my own mind.

I would not have been accepted into the Boy Scouts, if Girl Scouts had been taken from me as abruptly as it was from a different transgender boy in the same state I was born and raised. Which would have left me with... nothing. Neither. And the only reason I even joined the Girl Scouts was because I had wanted to join the Boy Scouts and the local troop had refused to allow me, because they had labeled me a girl.

I don't believe I'm the one that coined Schrodinger's Gender, but I do reference it often. In this situation, one is both a boy when it hurts, and a girl when it hurts. Even if that gender label changes by the second, the point is to use your gender and your assigned sex to hurt you.

But then, why do these services even have to be gendered to begin with? After all, Boy Scouts just updated to be The Scouts, and has removed (on paper) the insistence on gendering.

Well... I certainly agree that the majority of gendering these services is at this point a concept that needs to be reformed, but I'm unconvinced that we will be able to completely integrate without addressing the reason they were segregated by gender in the first place.

Women's gym memberships are gender segregated for two reasons. Women and girls- and anyone labeled as women and girls, regardless of true identity- are frequently not afforded the same access to resources as cisgender men and boys. Women and girls- and anyone labeled such- are frequently at high risk of predatory sexual behavior and physical violence. Both of these problems are symptoms of a larger system of misogyny at play, and both of these problems directly affect trans men especially those who have not transitioned in a way that makes them pass for cis men.

Regardless of the truth of my identity, the reality is that I was seen as and treated as a girl when it came to physical fitness, and thus barred from the same activities freely offered to the boys. Regardless of the truth of my identity, I have experienced predatory sexual behavior from cis men as young as 8 or 9 years old, continuing past when I came out and began to transition socially.

If the problem is not addressed, cis women cannot re-integrate with cis men. But, additionally, if the problem is not addressed, the choice still remains clear for trans men. Detransition, stay closeted, or go without.

A common complaint of trans men is the invisibility and erasure our demographic faces. It should be easy to see why this happens. The problem of a misogynistic society is one that continues to this day, and without addressing the problem we cannot hope for success in creating a more inclusive space. At the same time, trans men are being pushed out and isolated as they realize they must make a choice.

As for social gatherings, such as a woman's retreat or a woman's music festival? Of course, it may sound odd to say that a trans man should feel welcome there. But the truth of the matter is the majority of the trans men asking for the ability to stay are trans men who have been within that space for years already, prior to coming out, prior to realizing some things about their genders, prior to taking their first steps as men.

I'm pretty good friends with an older butch who told me that I am the first person they ever told that they were a nonbinary man. This person is in their 50s. They're married. But the wife doesn't like it, and they love their wife too much to cause friction in the relationship, so they keep it to themselves, and they keep quiet, and they don't say anything about being transgender, but in their head they aren't a woman. This person is not a woman, by their own insistence. Should this person be forcibly ejected from their local lesbian community, which they and the wife helped form decades ago? Should they divorce their wife, since that would make her not a lesbian anymore?

What harm is it, truly, to allow this person to stay? Social isolation kills people. The trans man suicide statistics are just as abysmal as any of the others I've mentioned here. Forcing someone to burn 20, 30, 40 years of their lives and their friends and their achievements because they are finally living as themselves is a deeply hurtful and isolating experience.

The majority of trans men asking to be included in these spaces are not trans men like me- who never really jived with the idea of womanhood and distanced ourselves as much as possible the moment we saw the opportunity. They are men like my friend, often existing outside of the binary, often with a deep love and appreciation for womanhood despite realizing that perhaps the label does not fit them as well as they once thought. They often have many years of connection, entire lives spent intwined in these spaces.

What good does it do to chase them out? What harm does it to do let them stay?

[unintentionalseductress]

How To Court A Dragon

Warnings: MDNI, sex, monster fucking, DVP, explicit genitalia descriptions, double pp, size kink, mentions of breeding Summary: You unintentionally became his mate. Of course, you have some questions. A/n: Hey ya'll! I used to be called nanamiscocksleeve! Here it is! Now...I hope this isn't something people will shy away from because it took me a lot of effort to write this, not to mention all the weird questions I asked Google about reptilian mating parts (there's a sentence I never thought I'd write!). Also, the things about the pp...I was imagining this scene from The Shape of Water 🤭🤭🤭. Enjoy my fellow monster lovers!

“Sylus?” You glance over at the large, intimidating dragon occupying about half the space on the large fur rug you’re both lying on. The dragon, idly fiddling with a gilded coin, glances at you with a bored look in his ruby eyes.

“Yes, kitten?” he asks in his usual growl as he flicks the coin away onto a pile of gold. 

“We’ve known each other for quite some time.”

Sylus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose we have.”

“I was wondering…if I could ask some questions.”

“Questions?” Sylus looks at you with mild curiosity. “Hmm, let me consult my schedule... ah yes, I have a free moment between ‘hoarding treasure’ and ‘menacing villagers.’ Make it quick." He flashes you a sarcastic grin and you roll your eyes.

“Can you ever just speak normally? Wait that’s not my question!” You add hastily as Sylus’s eyes flash in amusement, clearly about to reply and further annoy you by not answering what you really had in mind. 

A deep, rumbling chuckle emanates from Sylus’s throat. “Go ahead, sweetie.”

You fiddle with the rug, wondering how to phrase your question. You had been living with, if it could be called that, a dragon for a reasonable amount of time now. Between the cave and Tarus City, there wasn’t a glimpse of another human for miles, and now, he was the closest thing to companionship that you had. 

Initially, you were worried he wasn’t interested in you beyond consuming you as a meal but as time progressed, the two of you had struck a balanced relationship. Now whenever you and Sylus ventured out into Tarus City, the inhabitants had begun to refer to you as the dragon’s mate. The thought had initially made you blush because ‘mate’ referred to something more carnal and intimate than whatever you two were. However, Sylus had made no effort to correct them, and now you had unwittingly accepted the title, and it had become part of your identity. 

There was a cavern within the long and winding cave filled with books from faraway lands and one day when you had nothing else to do, you’d come across a book entitled “The Courtship of Dragons”. It was obviously written from a human point of view but you’d read things that had left you with many questions; most of it seemed to be a work of fantasy like the author had made up some parts just to keep the reader’s attention. You’d turned these thoughts over and over in your head until you decided enough was enough and that you needed to get the answers straight from the dragon’s mouth. 

“I read something about…dragon mating. And I’m a little confused by it.” You venture out the topic hesitantly, looking at him for a reaction. Sylus’s face remains impassive as he regards you.  

“Dragon mating?” he chuckles as you avert your eyes back onto the rug, plucking at the fur as you do so. “Whatever did you read? Tell me. I’m quite curious to know.”

You clear your throat before continuing. “Well, the author said dragons have an innate sense about recognizing their mates and that they don’t…nest with other dragons. Is that true?”

Sylus rolls over onto his side contemplating. “Yes, that’s true. Dragons do mate for life. Once they find the one, they become their own unit. They make their own lair, and no other dragon is allowed to enter it. We get highly territorial if this is violated.” 

“I see.” You twiddle your thumbs together. “And…what if…your real mate is out there somewhere? Wouldn’t my presence be a downside?”

“My real mate?” Sylus asks in a vexing tone. “I’m not sure I follow.”

You look at him in disbelief before hedging on. “You know, your real mate. The dragon you’re supposed to be with.”

“You keep forgetting I’m only half dragon. Chances of my mate being completely dragon aren’t high.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “Fine, the other half-dragon or whatever. Isn’t she still out there? If she turns up in your life one day, then doesn’t that mean…” Your voice trails as you consider the implications. 

“Yes?” Sylus prompts you. 

“Well we’d have to shake hands and part ways right?” You rest your cheek on your palm, bearing your weight on your elbow as you turn to look at him. “I wouldn’t be allowed here anymore since you have a mate.”

“What makes you think my mate would be a dragon hybrid?”

The question exasperates you. “Aren’t you the one who said your mate wouldn’t be completely dragon?”

“I did. But you seem to be forgetting another possibility.”

“What? Is there a percentage of dragon she has to be for this to work?” 

Sylus lets out a booming laugh, the noise echoing richly off the walls of his cave. You look at him confoundedly, unable to fathom what made him laugh like this. 

“There’s no need to mock me.” You huff irritably as you watch his abdomen quiver from his mirth. “I’m just trying to familiarize myself with dragon etiquette.”

Sylus quiets down at your tone before he reaches out a clawed hand and flicks your forehead. “Can you really not think of another possibility?”

“No.” You curtly bite out the word. “And I don't appreciate being teased.”

The dragon shakes his head, a wide grin forming on his chiseled face. 

“You seem oblivious to the possibility that she could also be human.” The tone with which he says the words render you momentarily speechless. You hadn’t in fact, considered that as a possibility at all. How could a normal human become a mate to a dragon?

Almost as if Sylus had sensed your curiosity, he explains. “I didn’t make the rules, sweetie. Dragon hybrids are known to find human mates more often than not. Perhaps with the hope that their offspring have a chance to become completely human.” 

Fascinated with this bit of information, you turn it over in your head. “Aren’t you interested in finding her?”

“Finding her?” Sylus chuckles. “Why would I put in that effort when she’s been with me this whole time?” He raises an eyebrow at you as you process his words, then falter as the meaning finally washes over you. 

“Me?!” You sputter as Sylus watches amusedly, his tail swishing across the rug. “Just because the villagers of Tarus City think I’m your mate doesn’t make it true!”

“Indeed, it doesn’t,” Sylus agrees almost maddeningly. “What makes it true is the mark I left on your neck.” 

Your breath hitches and the moment seems to stand still, stuck in time like a black-and-white photograph. Instinctively, your fingers reach for the bite mark Sylus had left on the crook of your neck when he’d first met you. “What about it?” you ask defensively. 

Enjoying the flustered look on your face, the dragon calmly explains. “The mark would have faded by now if you weren’t fated for me. Mate marks last forever, no matter when they’re given.” He smirks, revealing his sharp teeth. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” You burst out, overwhelmed by this reveal. “ I’ve been sitting here day after day thinking at some point you’ll find your true mate and I’d have to think about how to fend for myself!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused about which of these is more distressing to you. The idea of moving out, or realizing you’re my mate?” Sylus asks the question with a lilt and you resist the urge to punch him, knowing you’d injure yourself against those scales.

“Both,” you say swiftly, then turn away from him. You’re taken aback as his tail suddenly wraps around your waist and pulls you against him. His chest is warm against your back and his breath tickles your neck as you squirm in his grasp. 

“Where do you think you’re going my little one?” Sylus purrs in your ears. Determined not to let him get a rise out of you, you sulk, ceasing all movements even as your heart pounds in your chest. His chin brushes against the top of your head like a territorial cat. “What? All bark and no bite?” A soft laugh emanates from him as he continues to hold your body against his and you realize…

“Are you snuggling me?” You resist the urge to look over your shoulder and Sylus presses a kiss to it in response.

“Yes. Snuggling between a dragon and their mate isn’t uncommon. Was that not in your readings?” He teases as he continues nuzzling into your warm skin which was steadily heating up under his attention. 

“But when did we become mates?” You rack your brains, trying to think amidst the fluffy fog now filling your brain as Sylus continues to show his affection. 

“It’s not something you become. It’s something you are. Do you ask the water why it flows, or why the sun is bright?” Sylus’s tail wraps further around you, the smooth scales feeling comfortably warm against your skin. “You just are. I knew it. The inhabitants of Tarus City knew it.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me.” You quip sarcastically as his nose buries itself into your hair, smelling the sweet scent of the soap you’d used earlier in the day. 

“Would you have believed me?” His inhalations were sending tingles across your scalp and you tried not to melt into his embrace which was surprisingly warm and secure. 

“I-I suppose not,” you admit begrudgingly before your eyes flutter closed. Sylus continues his tender handling, and with a sigh, you finally give in, rolling to face him and letting him embrace you against his chest. He doesn’t say anything but cups the back of your head, claws gently scratching through your scalp and you drowsily let him caress the silky locks. 

Noticing your unwillingness starting to fade, Sylus murmurs, “Does the prospect of being my mate seem less daunting now?” 

His tail wraps around the backs of your thighs and you glance up at him, blushing when you see him gazing back at you intently. Those brilliant ruby eyes, akin to those in his treasury, had an intensity you couldn’t place. It was almost like they could pierce into your very soul and see all of you bare. The thought made you feel exposed and you blink, trying to gather your thoughts. The sharp, dagger-like tip of his tail now rested on your hip, and you hesitantly began to finger it, unsure what to say.

“Not less daunting,” you start, observing how his tail flicks gently in response to your touch, the sharp, hooked scales at the very end softening and flattening against your palm. “Not in the least. You are ancient, powerful, eternal. People fear you even as they look at you in awe. A dragon is timeless, and as a human, I’m like a fleeting ember, a mere second in your life. I might have a thirst for revenge on those who wronged me, but I am an ordinary human. I don’t understand why you believe I would be a suitable mate.” 

 You steal another look at him and see that his pupils are starting to dilate, the dark center of them consuming the red. Sylus lets out a noise of frustration, seemingly ready to give up trying to convince you, but to your surprise, he takes a deep breath of fortifying patience, then grasps your chin with his fingers, ensuring you can see his face. 

“I’m going to give you one, final, absolute, piece of proof. And if you still don’t believe it, then I will eat you so that I don’t have to listen to your maddening doubts anymore.” His tone implies he’s being humorous, but you cautiously watch him, fully aware that you have no defenses against those teeth and claws. You nod, his fingers dipping with the movement. 

“You and I share half of each other’s soul. A typical human vessel wouldn’t be capable of such a thing. Not unless you are fated.” He lets go of your face and brings your ear to his chest. His heartbeat was a steady thud-thud-thud, and yet…it felt like a call. Like something was there inviting you to come home, even though you didn’t know where it was, and suddenly, you feel your own heartbeat start to resonate with his, automatically following his rhythm, inexplicable, deep, primal. He waits and you realize what he’s been trying to say all along. There was no reasoning behind mates. You just knew.

You swallow, feeling like you’d been doused with a bucket of cold water, then place your hand over his heart, feeling a little thrill as he covers it with his. A shaky breath forces its way out of you as you lean your forehead against him, a sense of enlightenment washing over you. 

“Understand now?” Sylus asks almost imploringly and your heart clenches at the tone. 

“Yes.” You gather courage and look him in the eyes. “I do.” Then in a much softer tone, you add, ��I’m sorry.”

At your apology, Sylus gathers you in his arms, his embrace almost suffocating as he holds you. Your hands wrap around his back, feeling the points in his skin where the wings sprouted from his body. It felt strangely intimate to touch something like this, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers along the ridges, fascinated by the texture. Sylus’s breath catches in his throat and he loosens his grip, easing you back onto the rug. 

With confidence, you raise a hand to cup his face, your chest swelling with joy as he turns into your touch, his lips grazing your palm. You’d never seen him so vulnerable and defenseless, the fact that he was baring a secretive part of himself to you humbling. You don’t stop him as he lays over you, nuzzling your neck and letting out a series of low growls that sound strangely affectionate. 

You giggle, and he pauses, looking at you with keen interest. “Something amusing you, my love?”

“You’re like a cat,” you tease, then pet the hair between his horns. Even as his expression changes to being miffed, his eyelids become half closed. 

“I am most certainly not a cat.” He sounds affronted but makes no move to stop your petting, and more low growls escape his throat. You can’t control your mirth and the giggles now bubble out of you uncontrollably. 

“Then how come you’re purring?” You stop petting his hair and cup his face with both hands, a wide smile forming on your face as Sylus opens his eyes, which are hazy and languid. 

"That... that isn't purring," The dragon hybrid says with a slight huff. "That was a growl, and you know it."

“Or is that just how dragons purr?” You playfully run your fingers behind his ears, massaging the lobes and then back into his scalp at the base of both horns. 

Sylus tries to keep up his facade of stubbornness, but the gentle massages make him shiver with pleasure. "No, that's a growl. Purring sounds like..." He attempts to imitate a cat's purring, but it came out more like a deep rumbling that vibrated throughout his chest.

You snicker, and then an uncontrollable fit of laughter seizes you, the kind that makes your shoulders and chest shake. Here was this mythical creature, feared and worshipped, yet somehow, trying to imitate a cat despite insisting he was not behaving like one. You brush away a tear from your eye, then look at Sylus who’s sulking, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of crimson. Was this the same dragon that you had worried about being a mate to?

"You-you're insufferable, you know that?" He grumbled, even as he nuzzled his face against your neck; he couldn’t seem to help himself. You reassuringly pat his back. 

“If this is how dragons treat their mate, then I’m no longer worried.” 

“Is that so?” Sylus retreats so that he can gaze down at you. You can see how his expression is softening, betraying the depth of his fondness for you. 

“Yeah. I’m starting to come around.”

“Good. I’m glad I was able to change your mind.” Sylus takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles and causing your heart to flip-flop inside your chest. Your free hand idly strokes his back, still engrossed with the different textures of his skin where the wings began. 

“You seem to have a lot of thoughts about my wings,” Sylus observes as you fondle the leathery base.

“How big are they?” You ask curiously, then gasp as Sylus suddenly pins you under him, then with a rustling noise, his wings fully extend for your viewing pleasure. You look at them, enthralled by the contrasting marbled red and black membranes, little spikes lining the upper ridges. 

“About ten feet each,” Sylus says gruffly with a hint of pride. “Pure dragons are much bigger though.”

You reach out a finger, watching for signs of resistance and when he doesn’t show any, gently trace the membranes, observing how the sunlight illuminated through them like a backdrop. 

Sylus hums at your exploration, his wings twitching slightly before he lies flush against you, putting them in easier reach of your wandering fingers. He resumes that low growling as you do so, and as you watch him close his eyes, another question forms in your head.

“Sylus…are your wings sensitive when touched?”

He cracks his eyes open, and there’s a quality to them that wasn’t present before. A hint of…nervousness? 

“Yes.” He admits after a gap in a slightly breathless tone. “But only when you touch them.” 

His words only make you more captivated, and you continue to delicately stroke down the leathery expanses, the surfaces almost silky to your touch. As you do so, Sylus suddenly squeezes his eyes closed and lets out a rough moan, like he is doing his best to not lose his restraint. 

Your hands freeze as you feel his claws scrape against your clothes, digging into your soft skin as his wings swiftly drop from their extended positions, cocooning you in a swaddle of red and black.

Unsure what just happened, you gently try stroking his hair again. There had been no mention of dragons behaving like this in the books you’d read, and you were burning to ask him, but not if he wasn’t in the right state of mind.

“Sylus?” You call his name softly and hear him hum in response. “Are you ok?”

He lets out a few uneven breaths before resting his head on your chest just underneath your chin. “Yes…I’m fine. No need to worry.” 

“Is it all right if I ask something else?”

“Does it have to do with those ridiculous readings of yours again?” 

You’re about to protest but decide against it. He was behaving in a completely unprecedented manner and you weren’t about to kill the adorable mood. 

“Why are your wings wrapped around me like this?” Your hands rest on his flanks, feeling his tail swishing as it lightly hits your feet. 

It seems to take him a great deal of willpower to bring himself into a state where he can answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, mesmerizing, rumble, and you feel yourself tremble in response.

"When a dragon has a mate, it's not uncommon to wrap our wings around them. It's like a protective shield, a barrier that symbolizes possession. You might say it’s our way of claiming our beloved as ours." Sylus’s mouth ghosts your ear, and his next words cause gooseflesh to erupt on your skin. 

“Sometimes, the urge to mate becomes too strong and dragons don’t particularly enjoy being watched. The size of our wings is significant because they must be able to completely wrap around their mate as our primal instincts take over. Hides them from unwanted eyes. After all, there can be no treasure more precious to a dragon than our mate.”

A claw gently pushes away a stray lock of hair from your face and Sylus gazes longly at your face. Swallowing, you press on with your questions, despite feeling a steady rise of tingling heat beginning in your belly and slowly flooding into your chest and sex. 

“And when dragons mate…is it similar to other animals going into a rut?” 

Sylus chuckles, and his tail slides up your body, slithering between your breasts, the feel of each scale brushing against you sparking little flames of desire under your skin. His forehead rests against yours and his wings seem to tighten around you even more. 

“Rut would be the wrong word. A rut would imply something quick and with little intention other than impregnation. Dragons do not rut like most basic animals…we have a long and sensual ritual, lasting for a significant period, and the end goal is to ensure our mate’s satisfaction. Also, dragons do not have a set season like most animals. Rituals can occur anytime provided both mates are willing.”

Your mouth goes dry at the explanation, and you can see the edges of his scarlet irises beginning to darken even more, like bits of smoke mixing with magma. “A-A r-ritual?” Your tongue feels like it’s too big for your mouth and you stumble over the words. 

“Yes my little one,” Sylus purrs, and this time when his lips touch your ear, he follows it with a wet lick of his tongue, awakening a heady, primal, storm inside your gut. “The dragon breeding ritual. A crucial part of dragon courtship. During this time, the male will go into a rather intense state of need. Nothing matters beyond being close to and satisfying his mate. And the female must be prepared for a rather… passionate experience."

Your next words fall out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. 

“Are a dragon’s organs compatible with a human’s?” You cover your mouth as soon as you ask, face flushing with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to ask it so crudely, but too little too late. 

Sylus gives you an appraising look, his lips curling. “Well…simply put, yes. They’re compatible with human mating organs but they’re certainly not visually similar.” His reply astounds you and you blink, unprepared for his answer, rendered speechless. Questions buzz in your head as you mull over what you’ve been told.

“I’m guessing there’s more?” Sylus’s eyes glitter with mischief. 

“Ah…well….” You recall one last thing you had read and it was so outlandish that you weren’t sure how to put it into words. Sylus watches you patiently as you try to get your words together. “The book…the book said…that dragons are…that they have…” 

You swallow and bite the bullet. “That dragons have two.” 

Silence follows your words and Sylus’s eyes widen, before he composes himself.

“Heh. Were you purposely saving the interesting questions for last sweetie?” A cheeky grin quirks his lips and you turn your face to hide in his wings. 

“Now now. Don’t get all embarrassed with it out in the open.” Sylus grasps your chin and turns you to face him. “It looks like at least one thing in that book was right.”

Your eyes become as wide as dinner plates. “Really?”

“Yes. That bit of information is true. Male dragons do in fact have two mating organs.” 

The casual way Sylus says these words, like he’s giving a biology lecture contrasts your shell-shocked expression. Your mind could now only attempt to imagine what it looked like and it was going haywire at the discovery. 

Observing the stunned look on your face, Sylus gently nudges you. “Perhaps you shouldn’t ask questions that you’re not ready to hear the answers to, kitten.” 

Your eyes rove down over his body, taking in the wide view of his chest, leading down to narrower hips and legs that seemed to stretch for days. Then his tail, an appendage adding another 6 feet to his whole length. And somewhere in between all this, tucked away under his leather trousers were not one, but two, dragon penises. 

You try to recall your last encounter with a man, a knight, who had been keen on showing his abilities. It was fine, for lack of a better word, and you remembered how the man’s decently sized single organ shrunk once everything was over. Were Sylus’s similarly shrunken and stacked one above the other at this very moment?

At your lack of response, Sylus chuckles, then in an unexpected gesture of tenderness, strokes your hair. “I can tell this isn’t the end of it. Go on. Get it all out.”

Your mind seems to have lost its ability to think. Wetting your lips, you try to think of something reasonable to say but words have lost all meaning. After a few more minutes of silence, during which Sylus has wrapped you up again in his arms and tail, enjoying your closeness, do you finally venture forward with an inquiry.  

“Why two?”

Sylus makes an odd noise like he was choking down a laugh. He lets out a puff of air, chortling. “Ah, kitten. If only I knew. There are two theories, both of which don’t have much evidence to support them.” Sylus turns onto his side and you yip as you’re sandwiched between his wings, the upper one covering you like a blanket as Sylus moves into a more comfortable position, moving your body closer to his.

“The first theory is that because dragon pairings are rare, two organs help increase the chances of a successful pregnancy. The other…” he trails off and his smile becomes positively wicked before he continues. “The other suggests that having two serves no other purpose than to heighten the woman’s pleasure.”

An uncontrollable shiver runs down your spine and you feel your entire body become hot. Your voice is hushed as you ask, “And they…both…go into the same…?”

Catching on to what you were implying, Sylus chuckles at your reaction, your embarrassment only fueling his enjoyment. It was so tempting to tease you into a flustered mess.

"Ah, you're catching on, aren't you? Yes, both of them go... in the same place. And together, no less." He leans in, his mouth close to your ear again. "Can't you picture it, my dear? The sensation of both of them, inside you at the same time..."

You squeak at the graphic description and bury your face into his chest. “Ok, I’ve heard enough! Stop!” You try to calm your racing heart but Sylus’s low purr as he’d explained dragon anatomy was still ringing in your ears. There was a burning curiosity to ask him how it worked, how it fit but you were positive you would drop dead from the embarrassment. 

You twitch when Sylus puts his calloused hands on your back, soothingly stroking your skin. “It’s all right my jewel. I know it’s a lot of information to process. Take your time. I’m yours after all.” 

At his last few words, you lean away and glance at his face. “You’re mine?”

“Yes,” Sylus murmurs, the tenderness in his eyes becoming more evident. “As you are mine. I’m equally your mate as well.” There’s a tinge of possessiveness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before and it was making you feel weak; the thought of belonging to Sylus, of him belonging to you. There was an ancient concept of souls being bound at play and suddenly you find that you’re highly attuned to his mood; the atmosphere has changed, and part of you can feel the intense want that’s filling Sylus’s bloodstream, can sense the depth of his emotional bond as it echoes in his chest. Your body seems to synergize with his, each rush of blood, each dilation of the pupils, and every sigh that’s being shoved back all come into clarity. You reach out to touch his neck and the mating mark on yours seems to hum with life, drawing you closer to Sylus’s physical state. 

Sylus looks intoxicated as he drinks in the sight of you, soft and pliant in his arms despite having done nothing but talk to you about courtship. You were still shy, but he can sense there’s now a primal instinct that’s beginning to take over. His restraint was at a limit but he waits for you to make the first move, knowing he’d regret it if his first act of intimacy with you was for his own selfishness. His voice dropped even lower,  a rough, possessive growl.

“Be mine, my precious treasure. Be with me. Be Mine to claim, mine to protect, and mine to possess."

His words resonate deep within you and the overwhelming feelings you’d been holding back break like a dam. With trembling fingers, you stroke his cheek, dragging a fingertip across his lips, your breath catching as Sylus nibbles the digit. 

Gathering courage, you ask him softly, “Can I see?”

A thrum seems to vibrate through the air and Sylus nods. “You wish to see all of me? I’m yours.”

Sensing you were too timid at the moment, Sylus undoes his trousers, and they rustle as he slips them down his legs. Still in his embrace, covered with his wings, you wait, then trail your hands down his heated abdomen. His heart pounds in his chest as you do so, feeling the unfamiliar terrain of skin and scales before your hand finally reaches its destination. Sylus’s harsh breathing can be heard as he waits for you to touch him but when you do so, you’re slightly puzzled. 

Your fingers brush against smooth scales where a normal man’s genitals would be. You venture further, wondering. 

“Sylus? They are here right?” 

You hear a choked laugh, then he nuzzles the top of your head. 

“Yes, my love. Like I said, visually, I’m not like a man.” His voice is gruff as he tries to explain. His hands roam across your body, squeezing the soft flesh and purring at the feeling. 

“Then where…?”

“They're hidden beneath my scales, darling.” There’s a breathless quality as he speaks. “Just keep…petting me there.” 

Sylus closes his eyes for a moment, his body trembling as you continue to touch him. The sensation of your fingers tracing the scales on his skin was both soothing and arousing, making it difficult to hold back the possessive roar that threatened to escape his throat. Watching your reaction as you explored the area where his scales ended and something more intimate began was threatening to snap his will in two like a twig. 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen as you suddenly feel a bump starting to make itself evident. 

“There…” Sylus’s voice is gravelly. “Go ahead, my dear... Lift my scales gently. Just a little...”

You feel like little electric currents are running nonstop under your skin as you follow his orders. Your sex pulses between your closed legs, all the courtship explanations still fresh in your mind. You carefully start to lift the scales over the bump, curiosity piqued as they give way to a sort of shallow slit, then before you can go any deeper, you feel something hard and moist rise out of the patch. 

Whatever you had been imagining didn’t even come close to the real thing. You watch, transfixed, as Sylus’s twin cocks spring free, standing proudly in your palm. One was higher up on his body, and the other sat lower, and the lower one was slightly longer than the upper. Both of them were hot to the touch, beads of precum weeping from their slits. Colossal compared to a human, their surfaces were smooth but ridged in parts, in a way that resembled scales, yet softer. They were both coated in a sort of viscous, translucent, liquid, exuding from the cocks. 

Sylus groans as he feels the heat of your palm against his cocks. In a constricted voice he asks, “Well? What do you think?”

Fascinated, you gently grip the lower one, silently noting the size of it compared to your forearm, and wrap your fingers around it, barely managing to make them meet around the engorged column. A low growl leaves Sylus as you start to pump the smooth, velvety, column, observing how the shorter top one also responds, pulsing in time with its pair. A slick, wet noise fills the air as you stroke him and Sylus’s hips begin to rock against your movements. His mouth is open and he’s panting, sweat gathering on his brow as you experimentally continue to touch him. 

The scales that lined his cock were incredibly squishy and malleable, not at all having resemblance to the hard and sharp ridges on the rest of his body. As more of the lubricating fluid began to gather on his lengths, you wonder at the texture of those scales against the palm of your hand, and suddenly, start imagining how they would feel inside your cunt. Rubbing, stroking, providing extra stimulation as they nestled deep inside you. You bite your lip and steal a look at Sylus, heart jolting when you find him gazing right at you, and judging by his expression, he can feel the longing building deep inside your body. 

“I can smell it, kitten.” He inhales deeply, your scent filling his senses like an aphrodisiac. “Your arousal. It’s as potent as the daturas on the mountainside.” His cheek brushes against yours and you freeze as he kisses the corner of your lips. It was so unexpected and sweet and you turn towards him. 

“Bloom for me,” Sylus whispers before his lips lay over yours, capturing them in a deep and passionate kiss. Your breath catches in your throat and it’s like the kiss had opened a gate, all your raw desires coming loose. Like a ball of unwinding yarn, your arms draw around Sylus’s neck, pressing as possibly close as you can to him, your mouth opening sweetly to offer him your tongue.

The unbridled ardor of your reaction has Sylus groaning like a drowning man, his tongue slipping deeper into your wet cavern, sipping, sampling, and savoring the flavors that were unique to you. The rushing thrill of your surrender was a dizzying upward spiral as his hands roamed over your body, cupping your clothed breasts as his wings quivered from the tingling delight of being wrapped so snugly around your form. 

Sylus breaks the kiss and his long, dexterous, tongue licks a line down the side of your neck, sucking over the point where your pulse beat hotly, and into the crook of your shoulder. You gasp as his teeth sink into the flesh, a nip of pain flaring through you before Sylus soothes the sting with his tongue. 

“You taste as delicious as you smell my jewel,” he murmurs sensually, and continues his journey across your body, biting and sucking at your collarbone before resting between your breasts, nuzzling his face into the warmth. 

His tail has managed to slip between your legs and the jagged ridges have all smoothed into a streamlined piece of muscle, teasingly moving between your thighs, just high enough for the upper side to rub against your underwear, playing into the wetness that was already starting to gather. You moan at the stimulation, barely enough to even scratch the surface of your raging flames, and hook your leg over Sylus’s hip to give you more access. The thick tail presses into your slit, rhythmically dragging the fabric against your engorged clit as his hands busy themselves undoing the laces at the back of your dress. 

You shiver despite the rising heat as the dress falls apart at the back and Sylus drags the garment off over your head, his breath catching as he finally gets his first, unobscured look at you. His eyes rove appreciatively over your body, his blood humming in his veins as he watches your skin become ruddy, the light filtering over it through his wing casting a soft, shadowy glow. Your nipples were perked and hard, your skin smooth and creamy, with little curls of hair poking out from underneath the sides of your panties. 

You whimper as the very tip of his tail wedges into the apex of your folds, rubbing the soaked fabric directly onto your clit, sending skitters of electricity through your system. The air seems to become balmy as you breathe, harsh pants leaving you as want grows in your core, the overwhelming need to bite down and mark him back as he’d done for you becoming palpable with each passing second. 

Sylus raises a clawed finger and brings it to your mouth, which you obligingly suck, followed by a sharp bite that makes his eyes dilate and brings a grin to his lips. He slowly pulls the digit back, letting it slide between your lips and stroking the wetness onto a nipple, enjoying the way your breath becomes ragged and how your core clenches against his sinful ministrations. 

“Sylus…” you whimper, feeling tension curling in the pit of your stomach like a bow that’s been drawn too tight. His only response was a hum, his head dipping down leisurely to capture your other nipple, licking circles on it with the tip of his tongue, not unlike the motions his tail was currently drawing onto your puffy clit. His thumb and forefinger tweak your other hardened peak, pulling and pinching methodically as the moans of your pleasure fill the chamber. Now and then you feel the scrape of his monstrous teeth against the delicate skin of your nipple, just intense enough to bring a small lick of fear into you before you feel the reassuring slip of his tongue. 

Your sighs fill your head, body yielding to him, melting against the silken leathery embrace of his wings, eyes closing as the sweetening ache inside you builds. You stir as you feel his tail shift, and your panties are dragged down your legs, exposing your swollen sex. The unexpected feeling of his scales is suddenly made present as his tail lays flat between your folds, wetting itself with your slick and gliding smoothly against your aroused pussy. Your mouth opens to let out a high-pitched whine as the smoothened scales add extra stimuli to your bud, your hips moving with him and seeking out more friction. Sylus finally releases your nipple as he feels your desperate humps, and maneuvers you so that you’re straddling him, body balanced on his tail as it continues to pleasure you.

Your voice keens as your hands splay on his hard chest, the slippery appendage rocking against your clit, feeling the differences in the size of the scales while sliding closer to the base as the dagger-shaped tip tickles your chin. Your mouth instinctively moves to take it, sucking on it pacifyingly to ground yourself as your hips undulate over the rest of the sinew. You boldly glance at Sylus and his eyes are sanguineous, uninhibitedly gazing at the sight of you hot and bothered, seeking carnal satisfaction that he knows only his body can provide. 

The end of his tail withdraws from your mouth and teasingly draws back down to your breast, curling around a nipple and squeezing while he maintains the steady movement he knows you crave between your legs. With nothing to muffle your noises, your voice grows steadily louder, echoing off the high walls of the cave as Sylus guides you toward the abyss of gratification. 

“My body is yours little one,” Sylus says in a harsh whisper that has your senses on edge. You feel the flutter of his wings as they enfold you again, a little space of privacy where only you and he exist. 

“Use me for your pleasure.” His hand cups your cheek and his movements become frenzied, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you writhe over him, trying to find release. 

A soft haze seems to settle around you as your body orgasms. You feel the repetitive little spasms of your clit mirrored in your core as they become longer and more intense, flooding your body with sinful delight as you sob out your need. Your eyes are shut tight, the world becoming an incoherent mix of color and light where nothing is solid except for your mate as he pushes you through your heady climax. Even as your heartbeat turns erratic, you can sense the changes in him too as he scents the salty tang of your relief as your body relaxes. You gasp, steadying yourself as Sylus gently withdraws his tail, letting you collapse on his chest as you try to come back down to earth.

You feel his claws soothingly scratch your back and gratefully nuzzle into his chest before taking a steadying breath and peering over your shoulder at his neglected cocks. They were still standing, colossal and proud, with thick pearlescent beads forming on the tip. The slippery viscous fluid was now being exuded copiously, lubricating the entire length.

You crawl over to them, and Sylus lets out a gasp of surprise as your tongue darts out to taste one, running it over the weeping head. You taste salt on his skin and bob your head down a little lower, taking as much as you can, and Sylus fists the rug, his teeth biting his lower lip as he tries to control the raging urge to take you right there. 

Barely able to deepthroat him, you come back up, letting the moistened cock slip out of your lips before you gather both between your hands, squeezing the bases together before sucking both tips back into your mouth. Your jaw stretches wide to accommodate them, only taking him about halfway before coming back up for air. The lubricant covering them was tasteless but aided their path into your mouth and towards the back of your throat. Sylus thrusts into the inviting wetness as he tries not to choke you. You suck playfully, wet noises issuing from your mouth as you do so before Sylus suddenly jerks your head back, strings of spit connecting your lips to both heads.

“Not like this…” His voice is ragged. Swiftly, he flips you onto your back, drawing your ankles to rest on his shoulders as your thighs part for him. Your hole is quivering with anticipation as you feel one of the thick erections probe your entrance. 

“Breathe sweetie,” Sylus reminds you, his eyes growing steadily more animalistic as he pushes into you. You gasp at the feeling, then your eyes widen as Sylus gently splits you apart, your folds giving way to his massive proportions. You sniff, tears in your eyes at his size. There was pain along with the pleasure as your walls adjusted to him. 

Sylus’s wings gather you close to him, cradling you against his body as he strokes your face, whispering encouragement to you as he continues to sheathe himself into the hot moisture of your cunt. You squirm, the stretch foreign and uncomfortable, unsure what to do.

“Relax my little one. It’s ok.” Sylus kisses away your tears. “Remember we were made for each other. We’re meant to fit.” He halts, nearly fully inside, and your sniffs fade as you slowly adjust to him. Sylus thrusts softly, and you whimper, feeling so full impaled helplessly on his generous size. As he continues those deep strokes, your body seems to easen, the tension trickling away and giving rise to a whole new sensation. Your breath catches as you feel the thick mushroom head kiss your cervix with each stroke, the lower cock slapping against your buttocks with each move. The scales you had been touching earlier dragged smoothly along your inner walls with minimal resistance, flattening every time he pushed in, and erotically stimulating them as he withdrew. Every inch of your sex felt like it was being touched all at once and your eyes close dreamily as you lose yourself to the growing flutters of ecstasy. 

The next set of delighted moans are music to his ears and Sylus sensually rolls his hips each time, determined to wring out every tiny noise possible from you. Your face scrunches up in pleasure as he takes you, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you keep thinking about how the second one would feel. Your breasts bounce as he fucks you, and soon you’re breathing his name, hands grasping his forearms as your bodies fuse together.  

Sylus sees your eyes glazing over with need, your mind switching to a state where all that mattered was the hedonistic rush of your bodies working together in harmony. He pauses, interrupting his rhythm as he angles his second cock at your entrance.

You moan as you feel it but when Sylus pushes, there’s no resistance, your cunt already sloppy from his previous thrusts. The action puts his upper cock in contact with your Gspot, and your cunt feels wonderfully pliant as you feel both of them working in tandem to bring you to another peak. The added thickness combined with the scales' stimulation on both surfaces brought you to a realm of delight you hadn’t thought was possible as he starts to fuck into you with purpose, certain that you are no longer in pain.

His teeth are gritted as Sylus ruts into you marveling at the tightness of your cunt, how every clench and spasm felt on his dicks, knowing he was responsible for each one. Your combined juices start to pool at the base of his cocks, leaving a sticky ring of arousal. The wet squelch of your cunt fills the air and Sylus sees your folds, still slick from the interaction with his tail and he’s determined to make you lose control another time. 

You whine in protest when you feel him halt again and Sylus hushes you as he withdraws his upper dick and lets it sit with a moist plop back between your folds. The runny juices slide down and coat your pussy and you can feel the soft ridged scales now nestled at your most sensitive spot and you realize what he intended to do a second before it happened. With a smooth brush, Sylus buries himself back in your cunt and you feel the tingling stimulation of the scaled ridges sliding through your folds and hitting your clit one after the other. You nearly shriek at the feeling, almost on the border of overstimulation as Sylus sets up a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours. 

Your face screws up and your eyes are squeezed closed as all your pleasure spots are stroked at the same time, your gspot and clit pulsing wetly. Sylus growls, his body pistoning in hot need as he chases his orgasm, seeking release. Your entire being feels like it’s slipping away, your cries of delight the only thing that can be heard. 

“Cum for me my love,” Sylus says brokenly, breathless and enraptured at the way you look, his legs shaking from the effort of controlling his climax before you had yours. Your body arches off the rug to feel the slick push of his cock and scales at a different angle and your toes curl as you finally let go and orgasm for the second time. It robs you of your thoughts, little brushes from the spikes continuing to push through every tremor you feel as the hot waves of gratification flood your system. 

Sylus’s hips stutter as he feels your walls fluttering around him, and lets out a feral roar as his climax hits him, his balls tightening up in urgent release and they spill their load. His abdomen clenches, his breathing rough as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You hold onto him as you feel each spasm of his cocks both inside and out, one filling your walls with thick jets of his seed, the other dripping his hot, sticky cum onto your clit, mixing with your fluids as it drips messily into your slit, marking you as his in the most primal way possible. 

It takes a while for him to recover, nestling against you, and you’re content to feel his weight on your body as you stroke his hair. After a period of silence Sylus hums and rolls you over so that you’re on top of him. The action dislodges his cock from your channel and you quickly clench your hole closed, determined to keep all of him inside you, even though your folds are dripping from his essence and leaking onto him. 

“Mine…” he purrs as he noses your neck and you smile at him, brushing his cheeks with your thumb. A deep sense of belonging and satisfaction courses through both of you as you lay together in the afterglow of your courtship. 

“Rest for now kitten.” Sylus’s eyes are heavy with sleep as he cradles you on his chest. Your body felt wonderfully achy from your lovemaking. 

“I hope the hatchlings look like you,” he murmurs tiredly, and you blink as your ability to process starts coming back to you. 

“Hatchlings?” 

“That’s what we call our young.” Sylus tenderly cups your cheek and kisses you. “I’ll be certain to fill you a few more times to ensure it happens.” 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog @xinnn6 @xiaoderrrr @evansdmitri @ravenclaw-jojo @cordidy @hesperisms @redactedbimbo @erebus-et-eigengrau @prisjean @cheesemachine44

[acid-ixx]

if you guys are interested, send in an ask or comment!

will anybody be willing to hear out neglected child reader who was another one of zeus's bastard children. you're out there chasing for your stepmother (hera's attention), whilst zeus just lets you run around without his care, clearly too wrapped up in his affairs. your other siblings aren't as good to you, too, thinking another half-deity isn't worth their time—

so you'd give up, pretty much choosing to bestow the mortal world with your presence instead; because if you can't be loved by your own family, then let yourself be worshipped by passionate mortals instead.

how about romancing telemachus? what if you both learn what it's like navigating through his godly favor with athena, and you with your own powers? what if you have odysseus and penelope be the actual parent-figures you always wanted? their overprotectiveness skyrockets every time you propose to being elsewhere in ithaca, to the point you forget that it's you who has the godly powers to oppose, but how could you when a darker side of them appears every time you allow yourself to be disrespected within their palace?

how about in another place? what are you to many of the great warriors, if not for a forgotten, yet mysterious and whimsical deity? why is your name muttered in all the regions? surely, with just how much you deny your god-like origins, but still manage to capture the hearts of hundreds of suitors, you'd gain quite the infamous name despite your closed-off attitude.

imagine enough attention was garnered on your presence, that that's what was needed for them to finally notice you? but you're not quite the same child who used to pull on their robes, or look at them as brightly as the sun— no, now you deny them of any of your love. your mother, hera, finally sees you and urges you to return to olympus away from the prying eyes of many suitors and back into the domain of safety. she calls you her baby, fuzzing over you even when you openly and spitefully try to rip her hands away from fixing your 'messy' robes. zeus isn't any better, now he calls you sweet names and pretend like he hadn't actively bashed on you for your weakness back when you were begging on his throne for just a sliver of attention? he wants you to sit in between his throne and hera's? you're significantly smaller than him, he's gigantic in nature, and it doesn't help that he treats you like you could be easily squashed by him (which is every damn right possible, and it's intimidating and makes you want to cry).

and there's the issue with the others, too. so many of them used to deny you in favor of focusing on their own domains. now apollo wants to carry you off in one of his chariots to ride off the skies with him while he plays his lyre to you? artemis wants to teach you the way of the hunt under the dark, gloomy skies you used to wish under for a moment of their time? aphrodite used to spitefully shut you out of her own doors, but now she invites you in her room to gossip and play pretend while she coos and braids your hair?

and all the other gods, now wanting to take you away from the underserving - as they say it - mortal realm? that the people who built sculptures of you, who held you more lovingly more than those you grew up with, aren't worthy of your divine presence?

what a joy to be a being looming between the lines of mortal and divine, right?

a/n: this concept is better off and more coherent in my head i swear. now i don't often diverge from my main fandom, but the similarities between this and the yan! batfam is quite hilarious to me that ngl i want to make a crossover of it. and yes, this is me coping with the stress of having to deal with the sudden influx of hate in the yan! dc community, so i'm taking a short break from it to focus on this.

[reminder-that]

Reminder that nothing born of sincere love is cringy. Sharing your love of a thing helps other people experience the thing, including people who may already like the thing and are starving for mere mentions of the thing.

Being sincerely weird about a thing isn't inherently unenjoyable to watch.

loving a character so much will unlock such vulnerable and cringe parts of you that you try to suppress so bad but you can't like it's so humbling

[leighsartworks216]

His Beautiful Nose

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is all I think about when I see him sometimes, genuinely. I just see his nose and I go a little insane

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, biting, teasing, silly

Word Count: 1,001 (all my fics lately have had such satisfying word counts ough so good)

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

You shush him, focused on whatever the hell you were up to right now. Sylus quirks a brow at you.

"I think I have a right to know, since you're holding my face hostage," he teases, speaking in a languid murmur, raspy.

You'd found him asleep in one of his many lounge chairs; legs out, arms crossed, head back. It was impossible to ignore the desire to sneak around behind the chair and hold his face. Of course, doing so woke him up, which led you here.

"I'm just appreciating how pretty you are," you tell him. And it's not technically a lie. You are appreciating his beauty. Just, a specific part of his beauty.

"And you can't sit in my lap and do that?" He reaches back behind the chair. His large hand finds your back easily and begins tracing light shapes into your sides, your spine - wherever he could reach.

You giggle and squirm away from his ticklish touch. "No, now stay still and hush."

He huffs with exasperation, but he does as you ask. His hand settles on your lower back, loosely holding you close. He appreciates you in turn with his crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

You run your thumbs along his cheeks. His skin is smooth, pliant beneath your fingers. He seems so untouchable - and he is. To everyone that isn't you. The fact you're this close means more than you'll ever be able to fully grasp.

You lean down and press a delicate kiss between his eyebrows. His fingers twitch against your back. You trace under his eyes, coaxing him into closing them and putting his full trust in your hands. You kiss the spot again.

The next spot your lips find is perhaps half an inch down, at the point where his nose begins protruding from his face. It's an odd place for a kiss, he thinks. You must be up to something, yet he allows it anyway.

Kisses are slowly peppered down his nose. Each one takes its time, each following the strong line of his nose, over the bump and the wide bridge, down to the tip. Each one pours into the lazy smile tugging at his lips. You really woke him up just to "appreciate" his nose?

The kisses retreat towards his brow, but never reach it. One kiss, then two placed at the most prominent part of his nose's definition, and then-

He cracks an eye open. "Did you just bite my nose?"

You hum with a slight nod, kissing over the spot again. "I've been wanting to bite it for weeks now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Despite the nonchalant way you say it, he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and onto his.

He chuckles softly and draws you closer by your back. "Do it again."

Truly, you didn't expect for that to be his response. You anticipated this being the one and only time you'd ever be allowed to do this. But he's encouraging it, with clear amusement.

Your teeth settle on either side of the bridge of his nose and not very far down, not even as far back as your canines, and gently bite down. It's not a lot of pressure, either. Realistically, it's more of a light nip, but he hums his approval. When you pull away, your lips catch on his skin, just as his do when he bites your hand. It's perfect.

His eyes watch now with unreserved affection. His hand trails up your back, reaches to cradle the back of your neck and the base of your skull. "Come here," he murmurs lowly. You're guided forward, drawn down as he tilts his head further back to meet his lips.

Your mouths move together in languid, drowsy kisses. The faint wet sound of your lips parting and shared, soft breaths fill the room. His nose presses against your chin, and yours in his, but neither of you move from the awkward angle except to deepen the kiss.

You feel the smirk on his lips before you see it. He pulls away and your body is suddenly weightless, floating through the air, carried by playful tendrils of energy.

"Sylus! What're you doing?!" You're flipped over him, slow enough you don't get lightheaded, to the front of the chair and directly into his lap. His arms wrap powerfully around your waist to draw you against his chest. Light kisses trail along your neck.

"You woke me from my nap. It only seems fair to keep you here," he says against your skin.

There's no point trying to push his arms away or wriggling free. He's much too strong for that. So, you give in. You sigh with a playful roll of your eyes and lean back into him, trying to find some comfortable position. Once you're settled, one of his arms slips from around you, and gently fingers turn you by your chin to face him.

"I also need to return the favor, don't I?"

He takes his sweet time doing so. A trail of kisses, all light pecks, winds from your jaw to your chin to your cheek. They finally come to your forehead, where he places one between your brows. Down to where your nose begins. Down over the bridge, to the tip, and back up.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts his head and carefully lines his teeth up in just the same way you did. He bites down, gentle in a way that seems unfathomable to anyone else who knew him. After a second, he pulls away, lips catching on your skin.

He leans back into the chair and guides your head to his shoulder before wrapping his arm around you once more. He sighs, long and low, with content. "Wake me up in four hours," he murmurs.

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

"You should have thought about that before you snuck in, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I saw the stupidest TERF argument about top surgery yesterday over on Bluesky and I'm still thinking about it. However stupid you think it was, you're not going to guess how dumb this is

So. I was reading a happy post with people sharing top surgery stories. Great stuff. And this terf comes into the comments like "oh but what about the psychological damage" and I was like "wtf" and then I read more they wrote and no joke. They were fear-mongering about how psychologically damaging it is to lose sensation in your nipples post top surgery.

I've gotta at least give that one points for creativity. That's hilarious. Even if you are very attached to retaining sensation in your nipples, there are types of top surgery that don't sever the nipple stalk so your sensation isn't affected. It's such a non-issue, and like as someone who had the standard DI with grafts, I literally never think about it. It's not like they hurt, and it's still too early at about six months out to know what long-term sensation will look like, but I can still feel pressure and it's not a super weird feeling at all. This is such a strange choice of topic to fear-monger about.

Who is out here psychologically damaged because they can't feel their nipples the same post surgery

[dalishious]

Is this a safe space to—HA. HAHAHA. (I'm well aware it isn't but I'm going to share my opinion regardless.)

I think there is a significant correlation between people who are mad at Dragon Age: The Veilguard's queer representation being "too in your face" and "not fantasy immersive enough" or whatever, and people who play Baldur's Gate 3 and other queer RPGs, pretending the queerness doesn't exist.

This is not dissing BG3; lord knows I'm in love with that game. I'm just pointing out that it is entirely possible to go through it and pretty easily ignore its queerness if you're an asshole set on doing so. You cannot do that with DATV. And I think that's why Taash especially gets the brunt of the bullshit reactions, because them being non-binary is such a core part of who they are, it is is unavoidable.

So, yeah. I like the overt queerness. As far as I'm concerned, that's one of the best things about DATV.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

y'know what i've really been wanting to write lately?

slice of life sea grunks and/or grifting stans

no overarching plot about the horrors or anything. just sea grunk ford going 'woahh stan there's a weird fish out here come look' and then stan does and they have a chat about it that turns into a discussion about multiverse cuisine because they both have adhd

or portal stan pointing out a really shiny prismatic phoenix and going 'hey ford, what's that?' and ford responds 'i don't care, let's catch it alr- ohhh pretty...' and stan's just beaming because he's grateful for any moment he's able to fan that familiar spark in his brother after seeing him become so detached

stuff like that. just things happening with no real story. sea grunks doing stuff on the stan o war ii, grifting stans traveling the multiverse.

[problemnyatic]

when will we talk about the willful helplessness epidemic on here. So many people on this god forsaken website demand to have any and all things that exist outside their personal experiences directly, personally pre-chewed and spoonfed to them. And when you do, they'll then ask for you to swallow for them, too, because, you see, in THEIR experience..,

[throesofincreasingwonder]

"A story doesn't need a theme in order to be good" I'm only saying this once but a theme isn't some secret coded message an author weaves into a piece so that your English teacher can talk about Death or Family. A theme is a summary of an idea in the work. If the story is "Susan went grocery shopping and saw a weird bird" then it might have themes like 'birds don't belong in grocery stores' or 'nature is interesting and worth paying attention to' or 'small things can be worth hearing about.' Those could be the themes of the work. It doesn't matter if the author intended them or not, because reading is collaborative and the text gets its meaning from the reader (this is what "death of the author" means).

Every work has themes in it, and not just the ones your teachers made you read in high school. Stories that are bad or clearly not intended to have deep messages still have themes. It is inherent in being a story. All stories have themes, even if those themes are shallow, because stories are sentences connected together for the purpose of expressing ideas, and ideas are all that themes are.

[sullina]

hey so did y'all know btw that during the nazi times, there was a saying that justice was blind on the right eye?

Can you guess why?

[iwasbored777]

We're not appreciating the Weird Barbie enough. It's said in the movie that she helps everyone who need help while they always see her as someone who's not as good as them. She was friends with all dismissed Barbies and Kens, was there to offer support and safe shelter for everyone who needed it in Kendom, without her nothing in the movie would've been alright. When Stereotypical Barbie calls her "ugly and unwanted" she still helps her.

She was representing a woman in women's world who was pushed aside by other women because she didn't fit in but still had more wisdom and kindness than everyone who thought they're better than her.

[trans-axolotl]

that post about luigi mangione that says that solitary confinement is only used for cannibals is actually pissing me off what are they even TALKING about solitary confinement is regularly used for sooo many arbitrary reasons. like so many prisons have bullshit gang affiliation policies that land people in solitary there's a lot of prisons where most people with psych diagnoses are held in solitary many prisons have automatic solitary policies for trans people many political prisoners are held in solitary and just like there are a million different arbitrary rule infractions that could put you in solitary. what in the world do they MEAN that solitary is only for cannibals and why in the world are so many people reblogging that post without saying anything about that!

[sweetdlite]

🤭😂 I don't ship Zoro and Luffy; but it's a far better ship than Luffy and Hancock IMO.

I don't think i posted this? lol

tbh after thinking about hancock a bit, i feel like she would become attached to anyone that treated her like how luffy treated her (as an equal and a friend, and not practically deifying her)

[puraiuddo]

FanFiction.net is not gone.

Right now it's a victim of DNS (Domain Name Service) spoofing. This means that a malicious party is trying to steal traffic from FFn by purchasing a very similar domain.

Correction:

The new "fake" site that people are seeing still belongs to FanFiction.net—they just misconfigured their servers and are not redirecting traffic from the bare fanfiction.net to the main site at www.fanfiction.net. There is likely no malicious agent. Didn't mean to scare anyone! Just wanted to let people know the site wasn't deleted!

So if you want to read fanfiction and not see leaves, you have have to type out "www.fanfiction.net".

Please share so people stop panicking.