#the dragon roars

[doctorwyvern]

shirt idea

[dragonstailbutch]

Hey sorry i am trying to like. find examples of what you mean when you talk about mra stuff and (trans)misogyny in forcemasc content and tumblr search has betrayed me once again, can you explain?

(sorry I normally wouldn't ask but I wanna make sure I'm not perpetuating anything!! Also fucking tumblr search!!! it is ridiculous!)

so ive been sitting on this ask for months since ive got it. i want to do it justice and try to take it at face value that its being honest in asking.

The thing is, theres this trend and a weird amount of effort to be like force femme, to be forceful and like its something to fearful of and give in to. But we cant do that, cause all that does is reinforce the idea that being a man is a toxic thing. I saw this post the other day where a transman talked about like, the whole "raised as a weapon" thing, the violence and horror of being a man and raised that way versus how they felt growng into it as a transman. How they wanted to reclaim that phrase or something? i could be misremembering.

But that was never the intent of forcemasc. It wasnt actually about being a dude, literally *forcing* someone who was unwilling into masculinity, none of the posts that i made that started the community (and yes i, a transfem butch woman, started and made this community and some of yall need to get over yourselves) were ever about that, it was intended to be a soft mimic or even a call to forcefemme.

i was all about making it soft and tender for a reason, cause if i didnt i was only reinforcing the toxic masculinity narrative, "men fighting in the mud" "men are dominant and cool" " to be a man is to be forced into masculinity and to be disgusted with the feminine" or whatever. When masculinity isnt about just men, and being butch isnt just being masculine. masculinity should also be sensitivity, not domination. i wanted it to be better, show a better side of what masculinity could be, what being butch is.

Ive spoken before a bit too, about the tags people used and added to forcemasc, and really maybe i was wrong in ever naming it forcemasc. people used and still use tags like autoandrophilia, autoandrophile, androphile, autogynephilia, androphilia, and autogynephile. Ive seen so many people with urls and tags and posts calling themselves transandrobros, literally calling themselves MRAs, as if that was something to be proud of, as if they dont understand that they arent fighting for their and our rights, they're fighting for cis-mens rights by using those names and terms, not transmascs/transmens rights. I can understand ignorance, but weve talked about how the words you use have history, especially those like the tags i mentioned and androphilia and androphobia and others, all of them have roots in deeeeeeeply misogynistic and transphobic people and history.

Literally all of these are awful and are phrases that arent and wont be reclaimed because theyre history is one of pain and hurting trans people, one of coercive 'help', literal forced detransitioning and reinforcement of MRA and terf narrative that men are both good and the worst creature alive and that to be a woman is to be disgusting and the purest thing all at once. That to be a transwoman is sick and we shouldnt be trusted.

Im trying to be very kind, not scream and rage, not because i dont desperately want to, but because if i do, as a butch transwoman, ESPECIALLY cause i claim being butch, people wont listen to me no matter how much of what i say is meaningful. one of the reasons why im doing this NO, instead of in anothr day or two, is that im coming to terms with the fact that the situation will just get qorse, not better without words.

Part of why im still sane is that ive gotten a couple asks here and there about how my posts and creation of the community has helped them and its so wonderful to see that, genuinely so amazing to see people recontextualize and love themselves. its wonderful and im so fucking happy about it.

i personally made this space so i could love myself, who i am as a trans person and my body, and i knew that other people needed and wanted that for themselves too and i wanted to help, share this love with more people. That to be hairy and chubby and masculine and butch was a nice thing. But to me it feels like it was coerced into being a thing for Men. A thing no longer for me or people like me who share the butch culture and name to no longer enjoy cause people unfamiliar with kink and tran history have decided that masculinity and butchness are the exact same thing. Id say people should go be a bear, but you wont learn their culture either and thats cruel and insulting to bears.

We deserve better You deserve better. Stop falling for the lies and hate. We beg you

[silext]

🤍🐲

[boxed-canine]

Being a smaller dragon theriomythic is kinda akward sometimes cause when ill search up stuff about tips to feel more like your theriotype or just clips overall to feel euphoria theyre all for big majestic wyverns and such and im just over here like "in my past life my dragon type was actually about the size of the top thingy of a lampost" 💀

Big majestic dragon therians yall are cool but now i feel.. very silly compared to you guys

[dragonlolita]

Love, oh, love

[dovahkiinnie]

Pros and Cons of Living in Markarth

Pros: Beautiful Scenery, it's Located in Ancient Dwemer Ruins

Cons: It's Markarth

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝑜𝑓 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑅𝑜𝑐𝑘

𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐: officially, "Hear Me Roar!", unofficially "A Lannister always pays his debts." 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒍: a golden roaring lion on a field of crimson. 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔: have a reputation for being comely with fair, golden hair and emerald green eyes. Lannisters are known for wearing crimson cloaks, and their household guard are known as the red cloaks.

𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 one of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms; their seat is Casterly Rock, and their secondary exists close by in Lannisport.

The Warden of the West is a Lannister by tradition. Their gold mines have made the Lannisters the wealthiest of the Great Houses, and the Lannister fleet is anchored at Lannisport.

Through the female line the Lannisters boast of descent from Lann the Clever, the legendary trickster of the Age of Heroes who tricked the members of House Casterly into giving him Casterly Rock during the era of the First Men.

Later marrying Andals, the Lannisters reigned as Kings of the Rock until the Targaryen conquest, when they were defeated at the Field of Fire. King Loren I Lannister's surrender to Aegon the Conqueror allowed the Lannisters to remain the liege lords of the westerlands.

While the great wealth of Casterly Rock was untouched by the Targaryen Conquest, the Lannisters were reduced from kings to lords, and they did not have close ties to the new Targaryen kings. The Lannisters had little presence at the royal court for the first century of Targaryen rule, and no Lannister is mentioned as a member of the small council until the lead-up to the Dance of the Dragons.

During this first century, the noble houses with the closest political connections to the Targaryen dynasty were the Velaryons, Baratheons, Tullys, Hightowers, and Arryns.

[qibilette]

everything you thought you knew will fall apart, but you'll be alright

[ ID: A digitally drawn headshot of Starflight from Wings Of Fire. He is a dark gray dragon with green eyes. He's looking over his shoulder with a worried expression. Behind him is a red square with a brighter red starburst around his head. End ID ]

[doctorwyvern]

ooo yeah fantasy high SPRING BREEAKKKKKK or something

[dragonstailbutch]

Look at you, handsome! yeah you! you're coming along so well, look at that cute hairy tummy of yours. yeah, the boys are gonna love your hairy chest, we should all go down to the lake, do a barbeque or something. you'll be in swim shorts the whole time, or a speedo, of course.

maybe one of the guys will let you borrow their button up.

maybe.

yeah, dude, EVERYONE wants to see your tummy and chest, wanna make sure you're being the handsomest boy for us, y'know? we know you get all embarrassed, but that's ok, it's fun to see you blush.

it's ok you haven't gotten top-surgery yet, have you seen Michael? his are just as big as yours and no one makes fun of him or even pokes at him for his weight or anything! we don't want to, we respect him, and no one should be made fun of for stuff like that, so no worries man, really! im sure everyone else likes being able to fondle 'em while you still got em just as much as they look forward to seeing how you look after!

let's go, dude, throw on the speedo, yeeeaah I decided, and let's go out! you can run in to the gas station for us to grab beer and ice and I'll get us gas! maybe ill have you run in to the store on our way and grab some patties and steak or something too, we'll see

aww, look at that blush~

[yesterdaysprint]

Judge magazine, March 5, 1927

[meyaoyu]

but now they see you as you are

[neffi-fr]

Been a while since I drew some dragons so I sketched a Veilspun because I've actually only drawn it like once before and I love them

[zhoudadudugongjin]

"You fight like a girl." Zhuge Liang sends Sima Yi a dress to make a point.

[skyward-floored]

C-can I make a request…? (Please feel free to ignore if you’d rather not!)

HDW parent-child comfort? Maybe Volga gets a chance to comfort Link, or Impa can comfort him? Idk girl I’m just starving for comfort and warm fuzzy vibes and cuddles lol

Yes you may! (though I will say requests are closed so nobody send me more thanks <3)

It took me a while to contrive a situation where Impa would feel comfortable snuggling but I think I made it work! You’ll have to forgive me for the angst there ended up being, but there is comfort and cuddles I promise 😂

——————————————————————————————————

It’s not a dangerous wound.

Head wounds always bleed a lot, and almost always look worse than they are, so there’s no need for her to panic.

Yet despite how many times Impa tells herself these words, she can’t seem to banish the dread in her gut at the memory of seeing Link get slammed to the ground by an aeralfos’s shield, and not get up even after it had been killed by another soldier.

She shouts his name as he goes down, but the battle is a mess, and Impa is stuck in a fight of her own and can’t immediately get to Link. She manages a glimpse of him through the hordes, blood all over his face, and her heart stops as she fights even more viciously.

By the time she finally forces her way past the monsters in her path, Link is already being carried out of battle by a handful of medics. Impa wants to stop right there and follow them and demand to know if he’s okay, but they’re at a crucial point in the battle, and leaving now would be disastrous.

They wouldn’t be carrying him off if he wasn’t alive, he’s alive, calm down, she berates herself, but for some reason her hands won’t stop shaking.

The moment Cia’s monsters retreat and the men raise up a cheer, Impa makes a beeline for the medical tent, ignoring the questions lobbed at her by various army personnel. Link has certainly been injured before, but there’d been so much blood on him...

The medics are expecting someone to come looking for Link apparently, and the moment she steps inside the medical tent, she’s whisked off to a more private corner, curtains blocking the area from both the sounds and sights of anyone walking by.

And immediately sees Link lying silently on a bed, nearly as pale as the bandage around his head.

Impa exhales as she goes to his side, and watches his chest go up and down for a moment. The blood has been cleaned from his face at least, but he’s unnaturally still, and pale.

But he’s breathing.

“How is he?” Impa asks, and the medic beside Link hums.

“He has a concussion along with the laceration the shield left, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He woke up enough to handle a potion about fifteen minutes ago,” she reports. “He’ll likely be disoriented for a while while the potion works through him. He may need another at a later point, but overall, he should be fine with some rest,” the medic smiles. Impa nods, still trying to ease the fear constricting her.

See, he’s fine, they said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. He’s fine.

Link’s chest goes slowly up and down again, and Impa swallows.

“I’ve got some other patients to check up on, I’ll leave you to visit,” the medic says, seeming to sense her presence isn’t wanted, and she slips out from the curtain, leaving Impa alone with her son.

It’s rather quiet with her gone.

Impa exhales again, and looks at Link, pale and quiet, seeming unusually small under the thin blanket that he’s tucked under. There’s still blood matted in his hair, and Impa hesitates, then reaches forward, gently teasing some of it out.

It falls almost dust-like onto his pillow, and she brushes it off, intent on not thinking about how close Link came to dying and how she couldn’t do a thing to help him.

She can still see hear his cry as he’d fallen to the ground.

“Mmngh...”

“Link?” Impa asks immediately, leaning over him as his face twitches.

It takes him a minute, but he blearily opens his eyes, pupils unevenly sized as he blinks up at her. The sight of his blues, even dazed as they are, eases the fear in her chest somewhat, and she swallows as he stares.

“‘mpa?” he slurs, and she nods, unable to stop her exhale. He’s fine, see, he’s awake, relax. “Wh’...?”

“You were injured, Link. You got hit rather hard in the head with a large metal shield,” Impa explains slowly. Link scrunches up his face like he’s trying to remember such an event happening. “You’re currently in the medics tent.”

Link slowly blinks at her, not a whit of comprehension in his gaze.

“...shield?”

“Yes, a shield hit you. Hard.”

The memory of blood flashes in Impa’s vision again, and she very pointedly ignores it as Link’s eyes scrunch in confusion.

“Where’s... m’ shield?” he mumbles.

“It’s with your other gear, Link. It’s safe.”

"Oh..." he trails off, and slowly blinks. "...Wh' happen?"

Impa sighs. The medic had said he’d be disoriented. "You were injured, Link. You're resting in the medical tent."

He hums in reply, and slowly rolls his head to the side so he can look at her more easily, eyes trailing hazily across her face. The unsure, almost guarded look that’s been on his face whenever he’s looked at her lately is completely absent, nothing but open trust and bleary confusion.

It’s... almost more painful, in a way.

Impa swallows, and sits on the stool that’s been left beside his bed, Link’s eyes flickering at the noise. He stares at her again, and blinks, a little frown pulling at his cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs.

“...Link, I’m not crying,” Impa replies slowly, and Link stretches a hand in the vague direction of her face, obviously rather uncoordinated.

“Eyes’r red,” he says worriedly, and somehow manages to land a hand on her cheek. “Looks like... if you’re cryin’.”

Impa can’t help letting out a soft chuckle as he clumsily tries to wipe away an imaginary tear, and she gently pulls Link’s hand off her cheek, setting it back at his side. “I haven’t been crying, Link. My eyes are naturally this color.”

Link squints at her, face disbelieving, then he frowns.

“I want red eyes,” he says in a sad voice, and Impa brushes his hair away from where it had fallen in his eyes.

“Blue eyes are just as nice as red,” she says patiently, gently picking some more of the blood from his hair. She's talked to her share of concussed people, but concussed Link is... especially curious to speak with. “I’ve always liked blue, actually.”

“Oh... okay. I guess blue... 'r nice."

Link leans into her touch, and Impa holds her hand there longer than she would have otherwise, his eyes slipping closed again. He doesn’t speak for a minute, and Impa almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when he softly grunts.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. “C'n you fix it?”

The way his voice wavers makes something squeeze in her chest. “I’m afraid not. The red potion should help fix you up soon Link, but it’s going to take a little while. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Head hurts... ‘n stomach.”

“You have a concussion, that’s not surprising,” Impa sighs. ��But the red potion should help with that. They’ll both fade, you’ll be all right.”

“Left,” he mumbles, and Impa raises a confused eyebrow. “‘M left-handed. Not right.”

Impa breathes a soft chuckle. “That you are. My apologies.”

Link goes quiet again, and Impa watches him, his face slightly pinched in discomfort. She’s unable to stop herself from studying his face as the silence stretches between them, idly picking out the features he shares with her and his father.

He’s got Volga’s hair, though it’s paler then his, a hint of his Sheikah blood coming through. His nose is hers, as is the overall shape of his face, but his eyes are solely how Volga’s used to be, blue and bright.

Looking at him, you'd never guess he had such unusual blood.

Link must feel her gaze on him, as he opens his eyes and looks at her again. His eyes are eyes half lidded, but focused on her face, and a frown appears on his lips as pain suddenly ripples across his expression. His forehead crinkles, discomfort suddenly more obvious as he shifts in his bed, and Impa leans forward, looking at him with worry.

“Link?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, looking at her with a truly miserable expression.

“...Hurts,” he whispers.

And maybe it’s the time of voice he uses, maybe it’s the mixture of tears and dizziness in his eyes, or the fact that he just looks so young and small and hurt lying there, but Impa abruptly gives in to the side of herself begging to do something other then just sit here.

He likely won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

She stands up from her stool as Link lets out a soft groan, and sits herself on the bed, gently sliding him over so she can sit beside him. Her plan was to merely provide comfort by sitting there, but Link almost immediately latches onto her, curling himself halfway on her lap.

Impa can’t really breathe for a few seconds as her son nestles up to her, face still pained, but more relaxed then before. She watches him as he tries to get settled, but he seems to be having trouble finding a comfortable position for his head.

So Impa throws her remaining caution to the wind, and does something she hasn’t done since Link was a baby.

She slowly, carefully, slides him up, shifting him around so his head is resting on her shoulder. Then she begins to gently pet his hair, her fingers trembling a little.

Link goes still, then relaxes, the pain easing on his face.

“There you go...” she says quietly, still slowly running a hand through his hair. She’s careful to avoid the bandages, making sure her fingers only card through hair, and Link about melts under her touch.

A soft sigh escapes him, and Impa swallows, the fact that this is the first time she’s held Link since he was tiny not lost on her.

She quickly blinks back the sting in her eyes.

A sound almost like purring suddenly vibrates from Link’s throat, soft and faint, just loud enough that Impa can hear it. She blinks at him in surprise, but Link doesn’t notice, well on his way to falling asleep.

Impa keeps petting his hair as he dozes against her, the little rumbly noises still coming from his throat. He nuzzles up to her a little more, and Impa pulls his blanket up around his shoulders, holding him just a bit tighter as he finally drifts off.

It's unlikely he'll have any memory of this occurring, Impa quietly soothing him as he falls asleep in her arms.

But that's okay.

Holding him again after so long, gently teasing the last bits of blood from his hair, his head resting under her chin as he softly rumbles... it's enough.

She closes her eyes, and Link sighs again, fully asleep.

It's enough.

[hyunpic]

241212 — press photos of hyunjin