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beaulesbian · 1 month

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[egghead spoilers, up to chapter 1110]

Sanji's humanity & Zoro's strength

(or lack thereof) - a theory of possible conflict between Luffy's wings before the end of Egghead arc. Long post ahead. Like.. very long post.

So the new chapter had a very interesting new "banter" between Sanji and Zoro, but no, actually just Sanji, because there was no usual back and forth quips followed after.

Yes, this whole post started because of these few panels: (" ...!!")

After rereading the chapter more times I realized, Sanji's not even speaking to Zoro or knows that Zoro can hear him. He's talking about Zoro, and calling him a burden to the team.

Which is just baffling to me? (fair, maybe I'm looking too much into it and next chapter it would be explained in different way) but for now, I need to put this out there and make my own small (long) theory on this.

There's lot to be said about the word burden here, and I will get to it later in the post, but for now, let's start with Sanji and his eyebrow!

It wouldn't be a perfect story if Oda didn't tangle threads of each respective characters from multiple arcs before and brought them up together later on during one of the most difficult times when Strawhats and Luffy are facing off with so much danger (reminds me of Sabaody but in a very different way).

In this instance Sanji's past could be brought up again, something that started worrying him since his fight with Queen in Wano, and especially given that his left eyebrow has been changing its shape quite a lot during the run of the Egghead arc.

Here's just few panels throughout end of Wano up to current Egghead chapter, where Sanji' left eyebrow is in the focus on the pages:

Chapter 1029 was the first part where Sanji was thinking his body might be undergoing some changes he couldn't control -broken bones insantly healed, stronger and faster than ever before, due to him beforehand using the Germa suit which possibly triggered this sort of superhuman modification he wasn't really aware of until then. When he realized he couldn't remember certain memories, he panicked, thinking he might be changing into something similar like his brothers, a scientific weapon created by his father. The worry and panic was all the more present because he thought he hurt someone without his knowing, and that'd slowly take away his kindness and sense of humanity. (Too bad I hoped the changes his body might be undergoing would only be realization of his non-cis gender status, but maybe that's still on the table for sometime in the future.):

^In this second panel his face is on purpose shadowed, which was the last time he was shown in that chapter,

and only again was in chapter 1031 - where his eyebrow changed:

and it takes him to think about Luffy and what his purpose would be if something so important of him would change. He knows why Luffy went after him in WCI, he knows what values are important for Luffy and his crew, and of course he doesn't want to be reminded of his family and his brothers and act as they did. He chooses the humanity, the kindness that Luffy loves in him.

Even to the extent to call Zoro and make a deal with him - to kill Sanji if anything would go wrong with him. "If I'm not in my right mind, I want you to kill me." That much trust he has in Zoro to protect the crew and Luffy!

Of course Zoro wouldn't do anything reckless without a good reason, but part of their banter and understanding each other would be to promise something like that - echo of Thriller Bark and the range of how far Zoro would go to take on someone elses pain. It's a promise to win their separate fights, but also this was something that Sanji put out there for Zoro to take notice of. (I will come back to that later.):

(still the "bad eyebrow" - he had that the whole chapter 1031).

After his fight with Queen (where it was also cleared what his actions were and weren't), he was only shown two times until he woke up, and both times he had his eyebrow back on good side.

1036 & 1044 (hearing Luffy awaken his powers):

All the way up to Egghead he seemed to have his eyebrow drawn this way, and it started to change only during fights -

ch 1075, still good eyebrow, tho.. ehh this behavior.. whatever:

ch. 1078, protecting his crew from Seraphim, bad eyebrow:

in between chapters 1090 - 1105 (most of which were flashbacks and Sanji nor Strawhats were shown) he appeared with his typical eyebrow:

and it changed again in ch 1107 - when he was again protecting Bonney / fighting against Kizaru:

interesting was chapter 1108 where he's standing between Saturn and Vegapunk, and he's describing Saturn with "he's less and less human by the minute" while his own face was obscured, (I mean.. interesting choice of words and what character said it, huh?):

and the next page he still has the bad eyebrow:

in chapter 1109 it's back on his typical side, where it continues from previous chapter of Sanji carrying Vegapunk- so at some point it must have shifted back (and I'm curious if these changes would be noticable in the animation). At this part he's watching how Saturn is summoning the other Gorosei to Egghead:

Which leads me to the point from above with Zoro.

chapter 1110 and their interactions (for me) was just off. I like their usual banter and bickering, it's funny (if it's in the manga and contained to few panels to make sense, not so much in the anime, but i'm not going into that now), but the thing to call anyone of their crew a "burden" just doesn't fit right. (Especially after WCI... c'mon Sanji, and especially to someone like Zoro, who's always the first one to think about the crew.)

I would understand it if he laughed along with the words to elevate their seriousness, or said something like "Finish it up, Mosshead, we need to get moving." but no. He calls him a burden. And again as I mentioned, it pretty much could have been even Sanji not realizing Zoro can hear that.

These words (in my opinion) were chosen on purpose for multiple reasons:

First we have the Zoro vs Lucci fight that goes on for a while in the real world - in the One Piece world it might be just few minutes - plus we don't know how tough were the fights with the Seraphim which let others be injured.

When Lucci attacked, Zoro immediately thrown himself with him away from the rest of the crew. Zoro was possibly stalling with the fight for time to leave. I feel he could have finished that fight earlier but that wasn't the point. The point might have been to hold him back from his crew.

also this was possibly the only fight after King where Zoro could test the limits of his powers and haki, just like Luffy in the Udon prison in Wano was basically training, this (and the Seraphim fights we haven't seen) could be something similar for Zoro.

Some people think that just because of these characters getting new powers it means they already understand how to use them/how it works, but that's usually not the point of how stories go - there can be progress and there can be setbacks, growing up but also falling back down, which makes the stories more interesting.

The words that Lucci used against Zoro were basically the same thing that Sanji said to Zoro few chapters later:

Amongst them he pointed out the Strawhats inability to cut off one of their own out of their crew to save others - like Lucci left Kaku behind just chapters before this fight when he attacked Vegapunk and Stussy (and Sanji trapped Kaku in the bubble prison). It's a play on very different characters and how they think and act to show clearly how they different they are.

The words burden or dead-weight really stood out, already when Lucci said it in chapter 1107, and the fact that they were targetting Zoro - someone who always blames himself (in his mind, not usually out loud) for not being strong enough, and someone who always has protecting his crew at the first place, was interesting in the connection to Sanji repeating basically the same words in the latest chapter.

I will probably make a different separate post only focusing on Zoro and his fear of being weak, but for the purposes of this post, just to pick a few moments where it's important in the manga:

One of the first time I've noticed how much Zoro keeps berating himself with words like "not strong enough" "too lax" "still too soft" "if I'd been stronger/ faster/ better..."

was just after Little Garden arc, where he almost cut off his ankles just to keep fighting. Time after time the crew encounters strong enemies and Zoro gets a new understanding how far up is the limit that he has to reach to keep the crew safe, so he keeps training. ch. 129:

When Luffy went to fight Crocodile and Zoro was worried and kept training on the way to Alubarna, this banter between Sanji and Zoro felt typical between them - it's about the two way street, the back and forth (that's why that new chapter and insult from Sanji feels so foreign, there's no reply, not quip back - only silence and some sort of determination, which isn't good nor bad, just.. weird.) ch. 179:

and after the final fight of Alabasta, possibly one of the first times I really started paying attention to how much it gets to Zoro, this question of how strong he needs to be. (along with what possibly was one of the first introduction of his haki and how he began training the Observation haki, disguised as meditation in the terms of the early manga) ch. 213:

Thriller Bark was one of the biggest arcs in this sense of Zoro and his protectiveness towards the crew and Sanji knows that - he knows what happened there, he even wanted to sacrifice himself in stead of Zoro for Luffy (but this is beside the point here, and I talked about it in other post before).

Zoro took on himself Luffy's pain, and after that arc he still went right to train as soon as he could despite being still injured, ch. 490. "still too weak!"

which goes through to Sabaody arc.

Chapter 510 until the end of that arc is just painful to go through again. Luffy was worried for Zoro and didn't know the scope of his injuries, while Sanji knew and was concerned in his own way too - that is another thing of how they care, sometimes wordlessly but there is that understanding of what to mention or not. ("Burden" still shouldn't be one of the words to use between them, not that far into the story.)

Now - fast forward to Punk Hazard where one of similar moments played out - Zoro telling Luffy not to goof around because they got in the New world and needed to take things seriously.

It was one of those small moments where Sanji was actually one of the few people shown with reaction to Zoro's words and his urgency, ch 678:

Sanji saying "He's so tough on himself" really puts into perspective how he sees Zoro - he knows what he's been through, and knows to what extremes he's willing to go to protect his crew.

He's definitely not someone who would carelessly call Zoro "a burden" even in the time and place and situation they found themselves on Egghead, if anything, he was supposed to be one of the first ones to know how serious is Zoro always about protecting the crew. (Even in the beginning of Egghead, Zoro stayed at first on the Sunny because "who will save them when they will need saving.")

There's few others scenes and parts where Zoro questions his worth and strength, especially in later Wano, calculating what needs to be done so they have strength to face off with Kaido, ch 980:

and later against King, ch 1033 "it was my strength that was lacking!" while unlocking his Conqueror's haki, still unknowingly:

The fact that it's been happening pretty much since the beginning of the story - how Zoro views himself as not strong enough, yet persisting in always getting stronger and protecting his crew - means so much for what character Zoro is and how much he values and loves his crew (just like all the other Strawhats in different ways), and also, as I've been catching up so quickly with the manga, there's been that hope for some call out of this behavior, to poke it where it hurts, to see what would happen if someone turns those words Zoro possibly feels in his mind against him out loud. And that's kind of what's been happening lately - and I'm curious what impact will this have on both Zoro personally and on the other Strawhats, depending who will be around for the conclusion.

Zoro is one of the few strawhats really thinking about the future, plans and what they need to still fight through, carefully calculating what his opponents might be doing, how strong they are and how much of a problem it would be to go through them.

And Sanji normally understands that, he knows how Zoro works and the other way around, that's why he still protected him when Zoro was injured, (if anything, in this moment Zoro could have been something like hinderance or annoyance to Sanji, yet he never said something like that), ch. 1015:

Even on Egghead, where there was temporary truce with Lucci and Kaku, Zoro pointed out how to recognize the Seraphim's weaknesses, and apologized for 'wasting their stamina' - again, calculating on his strength, ch. 1077:

Zoro isn't just fighting for the sake of a fight, he does have his dream and does know what's important to focus on (he himself always keeps the crew in focus when it's important!)

So it's difficult to have a conclusion about the whole Zoro vs Lucci fight without knowing what is Zoro thinking - hopefully in next chapter we will have more info on it (that is number 1111 - Zoro's birthday and bounty! so I hope it will be a big focus on Zoro again). But even beside that, it was obvious in such short time two people around him suddenly called him a burden to his team - something he takes very close to his heart and mind, something that will hopefully have some consequences for us to see and read, because as Oda is choosing words definitely carefully to have the right impact, two very similar words like "burden" don't seem like a coincidence.

To wrap this up - with Sanji telling this to Zoro felt different than their usuall banter, and as I said before - maybe because Sanji wasn't even speaking to Zoro. At the same time, on Wano Sanji gave Zoro a clue that somehting was happening with him, the fact that there was a panel with just Zoro's ear twitching and then being silent, thinking, and not replying to Sanji with anything that would hint to us about his state of mind, and it could mean he's also aware of some difference in Sanji's acting.

The way he says this reminds me of the what Sanji was thinking during his fight with Queen - "what would be more useful to Luffy, regular flesh-and-blood body? Or a cruel, cold emotionless warrior of science." Even for this small part of seeing him speak with Jimbei and hearing what Zoro was up to until then, he speaks without almost any emotions beside anger? Even with his eyebrow not indicating the change, precisely, it doesn't have to be connected in this way, except physical fights, but there could be something still changing within Sanji to make him act this way, a way that really isn't something we've seen before. I think if in next chapters he speaks to Nami, Robin or some other woman without his typical over-the-top pleasanteries, it could indicate how much of a problem this could be for the Strawhats.

So we have Sanji's need to stay human and kind, the pact created with Zoro to kill him if anything felt wrong; and we have Zoro - someone who's biggest purpose from the beginning was to protect the crew and Luffy, while many times we've seen him question his own strength, and now two people in the span of like 5 minutes in the One Piece time are calling him a burden.

It will be interesting to see if this is heading towards a clash or conflict between Luffy's wings while Luffy needs the support to fight / flee from the Gorosei.

To end this too long post, I feel it's very on point for One Piece not to have a sole focus on just one character going through it™ in one arc, but it's always a few crumbs here and few hints there. This sort of conflict would be perfect to deal with both of Zoro and Sanji's respective fears - because this is very much about fears in their minds, while at the same time if they can resolve this, it would only strengthen their crew once again.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for telling my roommate to stop doing certain behaviors that give him gender euphoria because it pisses me off?

So I (25, closeted ftm which is relevant later) have been living with my two roommates, John (24, ftm) and Sarah (28 cis f) for 5 years now. Within the past year John realized he is trans and began to transition. (both fake names)

The thing is… John used to be a good roommate, and now is a nuisance. He’s started leaving dishes in the sink because “that’s a woman’s chore” and leaving his laundry out wherever he pleases. He claims being messy gives him gender euphoria, which sure I get since it’s perceived as a masculine trait but I’d be more fine if he did it in his OWN ROOM instead of all over the apartment.

The big fight happened when he got his stp. for those unaware, stp allows you to pee standing up. This became an issue because he has started leaving the seat up and leaving little piss droplets on the seat. Sarah fell in the toilet once in the middle of the night because she wasn’t expecting it to be up, and hurt her elbow because she slammed it against the wall when she got startled. This was the last straw for me, so I told John that I didn’t want him making messes, to stop leaving the seat up, and to just clean up after himself.

He told me I wouldn’t get it. Told me that since I’m “cis” I wouldn’t understand how much euphoria he gets from us “women nagging him about it”. I told him he’s just being an asshole and he thanked me for it.

I’m quite honestly hurt because him continually pointing out the fact I’m a “woman” and have “woman traits” is causing me to have dysphoria but I’m closeted for religious reasons (family would try to institutionalize me) so I can’t come out this is just my cross to bear. I know no one will ever perceive me as a man offline but it just hurts when he rubs it in.

So I told him I don’t care if it gives him euphoria, clean up or I’m moving out once our lease ends. He freaked the fuck out about that saying that he needs me as a roommate and he doesn’t want to learn to live with anyone else. But I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Sarah agrees with me that John needs to shake up his act, but John brought his boyfriend (20M) into it who scolded both of us and told us that we were being transphobic by not letting him “act like his true self” to which I said “if that’s his true self then I’m moving out, it’s not related to his gender but his behavior”

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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purplehalnw · 3 months

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I really really hope they find some way to make Alastor's aromanticism and asexuality explicit.

I see that they're trying to do that what with Alastor rejecting Angel's advances but it's not really enough (and tbh I don't even know what would constitute as "enough" while still making narrative sense in the story). Hell I've even seen a couple of reaction videos that've taken Alastor's "never going to happen" in response to Angel wanting to make a porn with him as "oh yeah it's definitely going to happen" bc you know that's the trope.

And then there's the thing with Mimzy where even though the show explicitly said they were just friends some reactors still assumed that they must "secretly be together or in love with each other" or some shit like that.

But I'm not really blaming the show for any of this because people will be people and will continue to have their assumptions based on mainstream media and society's values and again it's really hard to portray asexuality/aromanticism without having a full on coming out scene that would probably end up being cheesy in this kind of setting.

The most I can see the show doing is having Alastor just straight up say that he isn't interested in anything romantic or sexual (w/o using the terms asexual or aromantic of course which tbh would actually make more sense since Alastor is from the 30s and refuses to engage in/learn anything modern). But tbh that would probably lead to most viewers (especially the cis straight ones) just thinking that Alastor not being interested in romance/sex has something to do with his past or the fact that he's a serial killer and very likely has mental problems.

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monstersandmaw · 6 months

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Male dragon x male knight (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Fourth commission for you! [insert Fourth Wing joke here?]. This one is for @chroniclesinlacuna - so thank you!

(reposting because of some weird formatting shenanigans on the first attempt - sorry. Please reblog this instead of the other (deleted) one).

Content: (cis) male knight is sent to kill an injured dragon, and finds himself sequestered in the mountains with a beast of far greater intelligence and empathy than anyone had imagined. Non penetrative sex happens too, and bonding if you squint. Wordcount: 8938

“Boy, what’s going on?” Aneirin barked, grabbing for the arm of a page boy as he scuttled past in a slightly rumpled tabard.

He could have been a little gentler with the scrawny kid, but the corridors in the castle were roiling with a heady mix of unease and excitement, and that was rarely a good thing. Added to that, Aneirin had only just left Prince Ruairí in the hands of the next shift of Crownsguards, but if there was even the faintest whiff of trouble, he’d be back on duty in a heartbeat.

“Sir,” the boy chirped, bobbing a bow when he looked up and discovered that he’d been hooked like a minnow out of the flow of people by a knight of the realm.

Over six feet tall and still wearing his armour, though his helmet was tucked under one arm, Sir Aneirin Pendræd cut an imposing figure, and almost everyone in the castle recognised the Crown Prince’s personal guard and close friend, even if he did have a tendency to keep politely to himself for the most part.

“Well, lad?” he asked with just a hint of a growl in his usually soft baritone. “What’s got this place clucking like a hen coop?”

The kid grinned suddenly, all previous unease forgotten as his blue eyes began sparkling. “Dragon!” he beamed in breathless wonder. “There was a dragon sighted! Out by Icetide Pass! Lord Mortingale’s soldiers shot it down on their way through the mountain pass but they had to leave it there so they could take him to the Temple of Healing. His illness is bad, apparently. That’s why they risked coming across the mountains even though it’s going to snow soon. A dragon, my lord! A dragon!”

Aneirin chuckled when he learned that there hadn’t been an attempt on the life of one of his royal charges, and released the boy. “Go on,” he said, waving him away, and the page belted off in the direction of the kitchens.

With a sigh, the knight turned and headed back the way he had come and nodded politely at the guards flanking the entrance to the royal apartments.

The prince met him in the corridor with almost as much delight in his features as the page boy Aneirin had just released back into the wild. “Nye!” he chirped. “I was going to send for you. There’s been —”

“A dragon, I know,” he said, raising a dark eyebrow. “Is it true?”

“Sir Mathis heard it straight from Lord Mortingale’s lips himself,” Ruairí said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to get his friend to follow him.

Aneirin fell into step beside him, and bit back a yawn as he followed him through a concealed passage, out of the prince’s chambers and towards the adjacent apartment which belonged to his parents. In the darkness though, the prince paused and put his hands on Aneirin’s breastplate, tapping the cold metal a couple of times in his excitement. “A dragon, Nye!” he practically giggled. “Can you believe it? The magisters say they all migrated in to the frozen north a thousand years ago! What do you think drove this one south?”

“Maybe it’s fed up with all the snow,” Aneirin deadpanned, and the prince snorted a laugh and turned away, moving with easy familiarity down the dark corridor until he popped the latch on the door at the other end and they stepped out into the king’s empty study.

“Mother and father are in their sitting room,” Ruairí said, adding with a heavy grimace, “Magister Ferrar is in there too.” The much-hated former tutor of the crown prince was a truly odious man; pompously pious, deeply disdainful of those who wielded a sword instead of a stylus, and rake thin because he thought that consuming food with actual flavour was a grievous sin. Unfortunately, he was one of the most learned scholars in the country, so it was hardly a surprise that he had been summoned upon a credible report of a dragon reaching the king’s ears.

So it was that Aneirin found himself with the command of a small group of riders the next morning, heading north-east towards the belt of mountains that sheltered the kingdom’s fertile plains from the worst of the wild winters, and charged with finishing off the downed beast. A larger party would follow behind to collect the corpse for study and preservation, apparently, but his focus was killing it.

Aneirin also had a grinning crown prince on his magnificent bay stallion at his side, despite his protests that a fire breathing lizard the size of an average cattle barn was probably quite dangerous, and putting the heir to the kingdom within a twenty mile radius of the thing was a colossally stupid thing to do, but the prince had insisted, and his parents had never been able to tell him ‘no’. To be fair, he was irritatingly charming.

“What do you think it will be like?” Ruairí asked as they trotted at the head of the column.

Nye looked around constantly, and even though the prince was dressed in sensible clothes for once, rather than showy silks designed to accentuate his fashionably fit figure and draw the eye of everyone in the room, he couldn’t help but feel the immense responsibility of guarding the crown prince out in the open like that. “Big, probably,” he mumbled. “And pissed off.”

The prince barked a laugh. “You’re funny, Nye. People think you’re grumpy, but you’re not. You’re just quiet.”

“You talk enough for the both of us,” he scowled, squinting at a shadow by the road a few hundred paces off. It was just an old tree stump, but he still glared at it like it was an assassin crouched in ambush all the same.

Somehow, the prince was still in a blindingly good mood as they walked their horses up the twisting, mountain road four days later, the breath of man and beast billowing in the air as they climbed higher. Everything was an adventure to Ruairí, and Nye couldn’t help but twitch a little smile as he watched the way the soldiers leaned closer to their prince in the firelight at camp, drawn like moths to his radiant joy instead of the flames of the campfire. Nye made one more round of the perimeter guards, greeting each by name and earning an earnest salute as he left them to their duties, and went to lie down on his own bedroll while the prince kept talking late into the night.

On the following morning, they reached the mouth of the canyon where the dragon was supposed to have gone down. According to Lord Mortingale’s soldiers, it had swooped overhead from a lower peak of the mountains, then swept down the narrow gorge like a hurricane, which spooked the horses to a white-eyed panic and caused the archers on the ground to nock arrows. When they’d loosed at it, it had wheeled away suddenly, and only to catch a wing on the bridge, colliding with it and disappearing into the depths of the gully. The soldiers had been forced to keep going, given the fragile health of their lord, and hadn’t been able to report accurately on the status of the dragon when they’d left the pass.

At the head of the canyon, a huge waterfall roared over the edge of a ‘v’ in the ridgeline of the mountains and plunged down out of sight into the bottom of the gorge. In the spring this road was only just passable because of the sheer volume of meltwater, but now at the tail end of autumn, the road was only misted by a constant spray. On either side of the gorge, the rocks rose into steep pinnacles, and in front of the waterfall, bathed in a sheeting mist, the stone bridge spanned the canyon and connected the road from one side to the other.

The walls that made up the protective sides of the sandstone bridge had been punched out in places by a the collision of something enormous, presumably the dragon as it fell, and all up the far side of the steep slope the trees and scrub had been singed to charcoal.

Aneirin held up a gauntleted hand and the riders halted. Taking a deep breath of damp, freezing air that burned his lungs, he listened. Behind the constant roar and rumble of the waterfall, a deeper sound filtered up through the scorched trees and scattered rocks. Low frequency, like two blocks of castle masonry grinding together, the rumble of a dragon reached his ears.

“Sir, that bridge looks like it’s about to go,” the captain of the unit muttered from Aneirin’s left and he nodded.

“We need to get a better look at what’s down there, but the scree slope on either side of the bridge is too dangerous to go near. I’ll dismount and go on foot.”

“Nye, you can’t go onto the bridge!” Ruairí exclaimed, wheeling his horse around to face his friend. “What if it gives out?”

“One man isn’t going to tip the balance,” he said. “But you stay here. You hear me? Stay…”

“I’m not a dog, Nye,” the prince pouted, but he did stay put.

Aneirin nodded, swung down from his horse and petted the placid gelding’s neck. The black horse twitched his head and stretched happily when the knight let go of the reins, but otherwise remained steady.

After only a couple of steps, he heard another rider dismounting from behind him, and turned to find one of the soldiers hurrying after him. “Captain said you shouldn’t go alone,” she said. “I volunteered.”

Aneirin shot the captain a level look, but didn't protest. He wasn’t sure what difference one extra person would make, but he wasn’t one for causing social friction when there were bigger problems to face; namely the dragon lurking in the steam at the bottom of the four hundred foot drop.

Stones and grit skittered away audibly under the arch of the bridge as the two of them stepped cautiously out onto it, avoiding the missing chunks and making their way to the middle where the wall was still intact and they could peer safely over the edge into the abyss. A flash of movement out of the corner of his right eye caught his attention, and Nye turned sharply to find the soldiers they’d left behind had dismounted and were loading bolts into crossbows. The grinding of the windlasses had dissolved into the noise of the waterfall and they were nearly all ready to loose.

Frustration flickered through him. If he shouted a warning from right above the dragon though, it could alert the beast to their presence, but if those fools shot down at it now, it could take out the entire bridge while they were still standing on it. Heck, if the dragon wanted to, it could probably start a landslide and suck the whole damned road into the gorge as well. Grinding his teeth, Nye waved and exhaled in relief when the captain responded in kind, and when Nye gave the signal to hold, the captain nodded and barked something to his soldiers that was lost to Nye behind the pounding waterfall.

Satisfied that they wouldn't endanger the crown prince or the volunteer soldier who’d come with him, Nye leaned over the edge and his breath caught. There at the bottom of the gorge was indeed the dragon.

A myriad of golden scales glittered in the water like a treasure hoard itself as the creature basked in the flow of water, seeming to enjoy the feel of it caressing the spiny ridges of its back. He frowned though when he realised it was slowly swinging its head back and forth through the water just downstream of the waterfall’s plunge-pool, jaws slightly open, and it appeared to be… catching fish? Somehow the image didn’t align at all with what he’d expected for a beast that big. Had it just been sitting in the river for a week catching salmon and trout like a fat lordling on a vacation from court life?

Before his bafflement could truly sink in, the sharp clunk of a crossbow loosing somewhere to his right jerked his attention away from the dragon, and before he could react, a thick, oak bolt sank deep into the creature’s shoulder just above its wing membrane and it gave a screeching roar loud enough to make Nye’s eardrums hurt and his mind go a little bit blank from the sheer, unfamiliar dread of it.

With a wild thrash, the dragon erupted out of the spray from the base of the waterfall and sent its tail and powerful hind quarters arcing around like a battering ram while remaining on the ground. The whole structure of the bridge swayed and shuddered as the beast collided with its footing piles, and both the knight and the soldier froze in place with their hands clutching the stone wall.

“Run!” Nye yelled at her, shoving her in the direction of her comrades gathered nervously on the road to their right. If he survived this, he was going to see to it personally that the one who’d loosed without a direct order was on latrine duty for at least six months.

The desperate beating of wings as the creature floundered and screamed again filled the air and the bridge gave way beneath them with a thunderous clamour.

Nye found himself sucked downwards amid a cloud of masonry and dust and the woman beside him screamed and floundered for the remaining edge of the bridge but it was too late.

Amid the clouds of choking dust, gold flashed and flickered, and something incalculably enormous barrelled out of the carnage at them with the force of an avalanche. Talons snatched for him and Nye found himself borne upwards while the scaly foot of a dragon closed around him. The brief thought that he would be punctured and crushed like an egg in his steel armour flitted across his mind as the dragon lurched upwards with a knight in one hand and, to Nye’s relief, a soldier in its other.

It struggled to escape the blocks of sandstone as they rained around them, but despite the bolt in its shoulder, it cleared the wreckage and swooped over the road, but as it banked, the soldier slipped from its grasp and plummeted away. Nye had the vague impression of her bouncing once and sitting upright while crossbow bolts buzzed through the air like summer flies until someone obviously yelled at the soldiers to stop in case they hit Nye.

The last thing he saw before they wheeled away into an open sky was Ruairí’s horrified expression peeking out from the visor of his golden helmet and the sword falling from limp, shocked fingers as his friend was snatched away by the dragon they had been sent to kill.

He wasn’t sure how long they flew northwards along the spine of the Icetide Mountains, but the dragon eventually began to tire, swaying and weaving, sometimes dropping a horrifying ten or twelve feet between wing beats, until a shivering Nye looked up and realised that a wide, snowy field was rapidly coming into focus through the oncoming snow that had started to fill the air perhaps an hour earlier. At the end of the long meadow covered in a perfect layer of deep snow, Nye could just about see a gaping hole in the cliff-face, and realised it must be a cave. Dimly, his mind supplied that this was probably the dragon’s home, and he was probably either about to be eaten or stored for later like a woodlouse in a spiderweb.

As the ground rushed up to meet them, he tried to thrash free of the enormous, curling talons, but he was held firm, and there was no freeing himself. When the dragon didn’t slow down nearly enough though, another thought crossed his mind. They were going to crash land, and he realised this might be it. Death by high-velocity impact with a mountainside wasn’t on the list of ways the Crownsguard knight had ever thought he would perish, but he didn’t have any more time to ponder it as the dragon twisted at the last minute and collided with the ground in a spray of snow, and Nye was tossed from its talons to land in a heap thirty feet from the point of impact.

He struck his head, helmet clanging once, and his consciousness winked out instantly.

Warmth was the next thing he felt, and he blinked his eyes open to find that he was lying on his back in the snow, and above him, a dragon was squinting against the onslaught of a full storm, its ochre eyes fixed on him as it tilted its head this way and that to get a better look at him, and it exhaled again. Its warm breath washed over him and he realised his clothes were soaking wet where the heat of its breath had melted the snow.

Aneirin’s first thought was that he was about to be eaten, but instead of floundering away or reaching for a weapon, he just froze.

“You’re awake,” came a rich, rumbling voice and he blinked. Nothing in the tales he’d ever heard had suggested that dragons were capable of human speech. They were wild, savage beasts that burned the land below them in great swathes and snatched people into the air like owls hunting vermin in a cornfield. “Thank goodness,” the dragon went on, and then sat back on its haunches like a dog to regard him at a bit of a distance. A huge, golden dog, partly covered in snow and bleeding from a barb in its shoulder, but still, the resemblance to a dog was remarkable.

“How… How long was I out?” Aneirin rasped, sitting up. When he didn’t feel sick and his vision didn’t warp, he felt a degree of relief. The concussion he’d suffered wouldn’t be bad.

“Only a minute or so,” the dragon said, lowering its muzzle a little and puffing out again. “But you should get inside before you freeze. The temperature out here is too low for human survival.”

“How would you know that?” he groused as he struggled to stand and then gave a yelp as his ankle gave way beneath him in a hot flash of pain. In all the shock of coming round and finding a dragon in his face, he’d not noticed the pain in his leg.

The dragon caught him in its claws and tightened its hold just enough to hold him steady and he clutched at the tiny, snake skin scales that covered its hand more out of reflex than anything else.

“Come on,” the dragon muttered, and he could hear the bellows of its breathing clearly this close up. The sheer presence of the creature was astonishing, overwhelming, and he swallowed, trying to process everything that had happened that day.

Using three out of its four legs, the dragon ploughed through the deep snow, keeping him aloft with its right front foot, and then it ducked its head and slipped into the cave like a snake disappearing into its den.

Aneirin blinked slowly, looking around. It wasn’t a cold, empty cave littered with carcasses and bones, but instead the walls were smooth, ashlar masonry, and adorned with tapestries. In the far corner was what appeared to be a great nest on a stone platform made of silks and furs.

“This… This isn’t what I’d expected,” he whispered, wondering if he was hallucinating all this.

The dragon chuckled, low and warm and oddly friendly before he sat the knight down on the bed of fabric and stepped back. “I’ll find you something to wrap your ankle. I don’t think it’s broken, but it might like some support…”

“How would you even know that?” he asked again, ignoring the pain and staring up at the creature.

Its sunset orange eyes seemed to laugh and the pupils dilated just a little as the dragon stared at him. Then it cocked its head a little to one side and laughed quietly again. “I have an interest in human scholarship, though I admit, my sources may be a little out of date now…”

“You… what?”

If dragons could look embarrassed, this one managed it, so much so that Nye felt a prickle of shame creep in behind the slightly hysterical exhaustion that was making his body heavy, his mind a bit slow, and his dark eyes incredibly gritty.

Clearly seeing as much, the dragon sighed, a sound like wind moving through woodland, and then said, “Why don’t you rest and we’ll talk more tomorrow?”

“I thought perhaps… uh…” Nye faltered, the shame intensifying.

“That I was going to eat you?” the dragon said, one brow-ridge rising with disconcerting familiarity into a dryly sarcastic expression. “Please, all that pretty, etched steel of yours would give me terrible indigestion.”

“Says the dragon that was gorging on fish in the river like a grizzly bear.”

“Well we don’t exactly have an overabundance of trout up here on the mountaintop,” the dragon retorted, puffing smoke out of its nostrils. “Excuse me for wanting to broaden my diet and make the most of an unfortunate situation. Until you lot came back and shot at me, I was actually enjoying myself. They weren’t the mountain goats I’d been looking for, but the fish were fun to catch and tasty to eat.”

At his words, Nye’s brown eyes slid to the bolt that was sticking out of the dragon’s shoulder still, like a bee’s sting, and his gut twisted. “You want me to take that out for you?” he asked, jutting his chin upwards to indicate the bolt.

“If you would be so kind,” the dragon admitted. “Though I’m surprised you’re offering, since you seem to have been sent to finish me off. It does hurt rather…”

“Here,” he said, and gestured for the dragon to lower its body down, which it did with surprising grace given the close confines and evident discomfort. “My name’s Aneirin,” he added.

“The one with the gold on his helm shouted something different at you as we flew off,” the dragon said as it got settled on the stone floor in front of its nest. “He seemed particularly distressed.”

“‘Nye’, probably,” he said as he reached for the oak bolt and braced his other hand on the scales of the dragon’s shoulder. The body beneath him was solid and warm, and the scales had the most beautiful iridescence to them over the gold lustre beneath. “The prince is the only one who calls me that, except my sister. What should I call you, by the way?”

“My name is —” the dragon began, but grunted and bared its teeth when Nye drew the bolt out. A little blood trickled down, but it wasn’t much, and Nye pressed a wad of clean linen from the pile beneath him to the wound, and the dragon went on. “My name is Vulfuri’ik.”

Nye scowled. “Vul… fury… ick?” he repeated, butchering the syllables and the glottal stop even while they were still fresh in his ears. “Never been much good with languages,” he added with a wry look at the dragon, who was regarding him sidelong with a flat, unimpressed sort of look at his poor efforts. “How about I call you ‘Fury’ instead?”

Indignant, the dragon’s head lurched up and the movement pulled the makeshift dressing away from the clotting wound as it fixed the knight with a scowl of outrage. “Fury? Fury?!” it repeated. “My name means ‘peaceful wanderer’, you know? It’s a name that’s been carried by many of the noblest males of my line!”

“I’d been wondering if you were male or female,” Nye mumbled. “Well, I can certainly try to pronounce your name — what was it again?”

“Vulfuri’ik,” he said with exaggerated pronunciation, huge teeth clicking when he snapped his jaws shut at the end of the word and glared down at the knight.

“Vool… fur…eek…”

“Oh for the love of the sky, no. No. Just stick with Fury. That’s fine. You’ll only be here for one night anyway. Once you’ve healed up and I’ve convinced you to tell your kind to stop shooting your nasty little bolts at me if I ever need to venture down into the valley, I’ll take you back to the road and I’ll never have to hear you spoil my sacred name with that tiny little tongue of yours.”

“My tongue’s had quite a few compliments, you know?” Nye shot, not entirely sure where the bout of playful innuendo had come from. Perhaps it was exhaustion and the fact that he was trading gentle insults back and forth with a creature that was only supposed to exist in legends now anyway.

“I’m sure,” Fury said dryly. “But until you decide that I can test that claim for myself, why don’t you take your little metal shell off and I’ll find you a goat or something you can eat, and then you can rest.”

Nye had to smile. The creature was supposed to be intimidating, and in a way he supposed he was, but the sense of humour was not something he’d been expecting. As he stripped off the various pieces of his plate armour, he felt the dragon’s curious eyes on him and turned to meet his gaze. In the stillness that swung between them, Nye sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, gaze snagging on the scab that had formed over the hole where the crossbow quarrel had sunk into his shoulder. “When we’d heard that a monster from the mists of time had crashed down on the border of our kingdom, we only thought to protect ourselves from you. Clearly, you were just… raiding our larder…”

The dragon laughed, deep and rumbling like a rock slide, and something shot through Nye that he wasn’t expecting to feel. He didn’t often seek out the company and touch of others, despite his momentary brag earlier. It just wasn’t something he felt the need for, but in that moment, the way the dragon’s voice rippled through him and his supple lips pulled back to reveal a maw full of sharp, white teeth, and his talons flexed on the stonework floor and his wings drew a little closer to his muscular, lithe body… Nye felt his cock twitch and decided he might actually have a concussion after all.

The dragon left not long after that, and returned with a neatly butchered and roasted goat, which surprised the knight, who had been poking around the large, chilly cave and hopping awkwardly to avoid putting weight on his sprained ankle.

“You shouldn’t be up,” the dragon purred as he landed and held out the goat on one talon. “Here.”

“You want me to eat out of your hand? Bold. We’ve only just met.”

The dragon’s laugh sounded again, only longer and louder this time, and he looked at the steel hanging on Nye’s hip. “I thought you could use that. It’s not the most elegant of solutions, but I don’t exactly have a full dinner service here. I don’t collect crockery like an old lady.”

It was Nye’s turn to bark a laugh at that, and he shook his head. “Alright, I’ll use my castle-forged steel sword as a carving knife, but just this once.”

“I hope it’s clean,” the dragon grimaced.

“I take good care of my weapon,” he said, and then hoped the dragon wouldn’t notice the flush in his face at the horrible and actually unintended innuendo. Definitely a concussion. He was never this bold or unguarded with people ordinarily.

“Glad to hear it,” Fury muttered dryly.

Fury let Nye sleep on the pile of fabric that night while he curled up on the floor like an overgrown, gold-adorned house-cat, and Nye found that he had no trouble drifting off whatsoever, and woke to find the snowstorm raging outside the cave entrance when he woke the following morning.

Over the next three days, while his ankle healed and the snow piled up, he and Fury talked. The cave he was living in was the remnants of a human outpost from the time when dragons and humans had apparently once lived in peace. “This cavern was actually where the dragon would have lived, while their rider would stay in a small room below — through that tunnel,” Fury said, astonishing Nye with the information.

“Their… ‘rider’?”

“Mmm,” the dragon rumbled, puffing a small flame over his tongue to ignite a torch on the wall beside an opening large enough for a human to walk down. “Every room in this little termite mound of an outpost is accessible to my kind as well, though I have to go outside and back in again. Something to do with the structure of the rock not being sound enough to tunnel down from here. There are other rooms below.”

“Yes, sure, but… rider?”

“Oh. Has your kind forgotten that?”

“Forgotten what? All we know about dragons is that you’re deadly, fire breathing lizards who —”

“Reptiles, yes,” he growled. “But not lizards. Lizards do not spit volatile compounds which ignite when combined.”

“That’s how your fire is made?”

“Yes, it’s a simple bio-chemical reaction. Don’t they teach you anything these days?”

“I… You know what, no. Dragon biology wasn’t covered in my training to become a knight.”

“No, but they do cover how hard you need to hit a fellow man and where to cut him open to make him die… Very refined.”

“You’re one sarcastic lizard, you know that?”

Instead of taking offence, the dragon grinned at him. “Gosh, it’s wonderful to have company,” he sighed. “I know I shouldn’t enjoy it too much, since you’re only still here because you’re hurting and there’s a snowstorm and all, but I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve actually… you know… exchanged words with someone. I talk to myself all the time, but it’s not the same.”

“When was the last time? Are you the only dragon in these parts?”

“I’m the only dragon for at least five hundred miles,” he sighed. “And she’s a big, grumpy elder dragon who thinks I’m still a hatchling for goodness sake! A hatchling! I’m very much an adult, and I’m sorry my gizzard isn’t saggy enough for her tastes, but there you have it.”

Nye laughed and then rolled his ankle around experimentally. “I think it’s basically healed,” he said. “But it’s been an unexpectedly nice change from castle duties. Keeping the prince from falling down a staircase because he’s too busy flirting with some lording’s son has it’s own challenges, sure, but this is a nice change of pace.”

“You and the prince are… close?” Fury asked carefully. “But you are not… mated?”

“Mated? Gods no. They wouldn’t let him ‘mate’ his Crownsguard. He’s expected to continue the line, and I know you know enough about human biology to know that wouldn’t happen with the two of us, even if we wanted it.”

“Oh. Yes,” he said. “Is it… acceptable for two of your kind to mate though?”

“Yeah, when the future of a kingdom doesn’t hang in the balance,” he shrugged. “You?”

He nodded. “Dragons do not dictate with whom another may mate, though I admit, I’ve only ever met one of my kind. There are so few of us left in these parts after all.”

That rather dampened the mood, and they spent the rest of the evening discussing lighter topics. Nye told him about his twin sister and the work she did in the Temple of Healing, and how he had always felt like she was the smart one out of the two of them. He told Fury of her passion for healing and helping, and how he felt that his role as a knight in the castle, training younger soldiers and protecting the crown prince, was barely halfway as useful as Seren’s work, and was surprised when Fury reassured him that helping to ensure the longevity of a ruler he valued was just as important.

“I realise I don’t know you all that well,” Fury said, “But I don’t think you would stand behind a ruler who did not care for their people.”

Nye looked down at his rough, scar-flecked hands where he had cradled them idly in his lap. “Ruairí is a good man,” he said with quiet certainty, thinking of that fire-lit camp and their warm smiles and boyish laughter. “The soldiers love him, and the people adore him too. You should see the way they cheer for him at the tourneys…”

“Tell me about them?” Fury asked, his eyes lighting up at the idea of more knowledge.

“The tourneys or the people?”

“All of it…”

So he did.

While the snowstorm continued to whisk the world into a white haze outside, Nye told the dragon everything he wanted to know about how humans in his kingdom lived these days, and in turn, Fury curled around him to keep him warm with the heat of his enormous, golden body.

Nye talked late into the night, and he only realised that the dragon had fallen asleep when he noted the regular rhythm of his breathing had slowed even more than usual. Turning, he stared at the dragon and marvelled at what he was seeing. The light of the nearby fire in a niche in the wall caught the iridescence of his golden scales, each one unique and perfect, and Nye reached out and ran his fingertips over the dragon’s brow-ridge and around the base of the horn that curved elegantly backwards over his head. The dragon let out a long, low, sleepy rumble of pleasure and Nye gave a sigh.

Conflicted about his feelings for a creature that was about as far from a human as it was possible to get, he curled up against the dragon’s side that night, and woke in the morning with the dragon’s arm snugging him close to his warm body.

Sliding free, Nye stretched and walked easily across the cave floor towards the entrance; his ankle was healed and he would have to return home soon, lest he be pronounced dead and the modest estate he owned outside the city be turned over to someone else. His sister must be beside herself with grief and worry too, if the prince had done what Nye was sure he would, and informed her personally of what had happened to her twin brother.

The wind had lost its vigour and now the little flakes drifted gently down like the pattern on a lace curtain.

A warm breeze wafted over his neck and he turned to find that Fury had come to stand behind him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he’d not heard the enormous, golden dragon moving behind him, and he exhaled too. Fury nuzzled him gently and crooned softly. “You are thoughtful,” he said. “Even… sad?”

“Just thinking about what my sister must be going through right now, thinking I’m dead.”

“I will fly you back today,” the dragon replied immediately. “The weather is not ideal for you, but I have a human friend who keeps horses on the plains below these mountains. You can borrow a mount from her and ride to the capital. If I try to approach, they’ll shoot me down on sight without realising what a precious cargo I would be carrying,” he added, and huffed a breath out that made Nye shiver again. “You’re cold standing here on the threshold, come,” Fury added, scowling.

“Not cold,” Nye said, his voice cracking just a little. “It’s nice.”

“Oh. You had but to ask,” he smiled, and sighed out another deliciously hot breath in the cold air.

Nye brought his hand to the delicate skin between the flared nostrils and Fury jolted and then relaxed in almost the same heartbeat. “You like that?”

“Mm, very much,” he rumbled, eyes rolling slightly as he closed them. “Your touch is… wonderful.”

Nye moved his hands along the dragon’s head, taking his time to feel the contours beneath his hands, and Fury gasped and lay down on his belly, allowing Nye to touch him wherever he pleased. “You’re so beautiful,” Nye murmured. “Your scales are like coins… You’re like a treasure yourself…”

“Oh,” the dragon sighed, shuddering bodily.

“What?”

“That’s… That’s quite the compliment among our kind… calling someone — ah — a treasure…”

“You are,” he said, leaning closer and kissing him just in front of his closed eye. “You’re rarer than gold, too.”

“Charmer,” the dragon rumbled, but he sounded pleased. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“You… You want… more?”

Fury opened his eyes and regarded Nye. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You’re careful,” Nye said. “And clever. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Fury let out a long, low-frequency growl that Nye felt in every fibre of his body, and then licked his lips. “I want to use my tongue on you,” the dragon rasped. “I want to taste you. I want… I want you, human. Like I’ve never wanted anything before.”

“So long as you’re careful, you can have me,” Nye said, stepping back and undressing slowly.

The dragon watched, as though Nye were a priceless statue that was being unveiled just for his pleasure. He rocked his hips from time to time against the floor, and Nye realised with a jolt of satisfaction that the dragon was as aroused by the situation as he was. “Fuck, you like this, don’t you?”

“I like you, human,” he said with a bit of a snarl to his tone. And when Nye’s dark, linen trousers and underwear hit the cave floor beside his shirt, the dragon raised his head and exhaled to drive away the goosebumps that had prickled over Nye’s skin. “Let me pick you up?” he breathed.

Nye inclined his head, and the dragon’s claws closed around his naked body. He’d never felt so vulnerable and cherished and so turned on in all his life. He went limp in the dragon’s grasp even as the sharp teeth and lashing tongue descended, seemingly to devour him. Somehow, he trusted that this was not the way he would die.

Fury parted his jaws and let his searing hot tongue lave over Nye’s entire torso and down to his groin where his cock was straining and leaking already, and when the heat of Fury’s mouth washed over him, his mind went blank with pleasure. “Gods, that’s good,” he gasped, bucking weakly in Fury’s careful hold.

“Now who’s a treasure, look at you,” the dragon purred, his deep voice skittering through Nye’s body and setting every nerve ablaze.

His tongue pressed against his cock, the friction perfect, and Nye tumbled towards his release with a shout, arching and writhing helplessly in his hold as the dragon worshipped him. When he came against his tongue, Fury gave a great groan of pleasure and Nye’s hearing warped for a moment.

When he came back to himself, Nye found Fury’s tongue gently cleaning him, and he glanced dazedly down the dragon’s belly to where he found his hard cock dripping freely onto the floor. “You can… Use… me to make you come, if… if you like…” he said vaguely.

Fury laid him down the bed and lined his hard cock up with the knight’s thighs. He was far too big to enter him, but the feel of Nye’s legs around his hard, slick cock was enough to send a rumble of ecstasy through Fury and he gasped, tilting his head up to the ceiling and rutting against him. His hips moved desperately and a constant, low-frequency growling rippled out of him.

“You’re going to make me come,” Fury groaned. “Oh I’m going to come, I’m coming… I’m…”

He lifted Nye up in his talons while his back legs pistoned helplessly, and he spilled over the silk sheet beneath him and halfway up Nye’s legs and torso. His hot come covered Nye’s skin despite the dragon’s best efforts to raise him out of it, and the feel of it around his cock and over his abs nearly made him come again right on the heels of his first orgasm.

When the dragon finally stopped, he lowered Nye to the cleaner part of the bed and let out a long, rumbling purr. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nye chuckled. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Fury gently cleaned him and he dressed in one of the finer silk shirts from the dragon’s collection.

“Is this what you hoard then?” Nye asked, plucking at the sleeve of the garment.

“Mmm? Oh, no,” came Fury’s sleepy reply from where he’d curled up on his nest after discarding the fabric that had been ruined by his release. “I just collected it for my own comfort over the years. Come here.”

Nye lay down with him and let the dragon’s warmth seep into him while the world passed them by for another day. They made love again later, and Fury took his time to take Nye apart a second, third, and even a fourth time before the sun set on their secret lair.

The following morning though, Fury woke to find Nye dressed in his armour and ready to leave. “Wait,” the beautiful, gentle, golden dragon said. “Before you go, I want you to see something. Go down that staircase, and I will meet you at the other end.”

Nye nodded and headed off in the direction the dragon had pointed, turning down a switchback staircase cut into the rock. He came out in a pitch dark room with no idea how large the echoing space was until a warm light trickled around the edge in a creeping tide. He looked and found, astonished, that a channel of oil had been ignited, and the light was racing around the perimeter of a massive chamber, at the centre of which were rows and rows of… books.

Kept at a safe distance from the fire, the books were stored on stone shelves, and he stepped out to find ancient tomes, perfectly preserved by the stable atmosphere and humidity of the chamber. From behind him, he heard the steady footsteps of the dragon, and turned to find him rounding the corner, scales shimmering in the low light.

“This is your hoard?” he asked.

“Mm,” the dragon nodded. “Silly really, but your kind are fascinating to me. The way you chronicle everything… Look there,” he added and pointed to a nearby shelf. The two approached it together and the dragon raised a talon to a particular tome.

Nye drew it off the shelf and realised it was a tome dedicated to healing.

“That might help the lord you told me about. The one who was travelling to the capital for relief from his illness,” Fury said. “When you described his symptoms to me, I thought of that book. Take it with you today, and it might save him if your sister can prepare the necessary tinctures for him.”

The knight looked up at the dragon and his eyes brimmed with quiet tears. “You’re not at all what I thought you’d be,” he croaked.

Fury lowered his head and exhaled just to make Nye shiver. “Nor are you, human.”

With a heavy heart, Nye let Fury pick him up, and they began their journey southwards in silence. The wind roared in his ears and he curled up in the protective embrace of the dragon’s claws, enjoying the ride but wishing he had warmer clothes.

Eventually they dipped low over the landscape and Fury touched down in a snow-dusted pasture while a few horses scattered and whinnied indignantly at their arrival.

From the small farmhouse nearby, a middle aged woman emerged and put her hands on her hips when she saw the dragon.

“Your friend?” Nye asked as he was set gently down in the snow and Fury stepped back.

Eliara was wary of a stranger at first, though not of the huge, golden dragon it seemed, but when Fury vouched for him, she lent Aneirin a horse on the condition that he would bring the mare back to her in the same condition when he was able. He swore an oath to do so, and she seemed satisfied.

“Will I ever see you again?” Nye asked Fury while they stood on the snowy road outside the barn where some of the less hardy horses were kept.

Fury bit his lower lip and then said, “If you wish it, I can give you a gift that will allow you to see me again.”

“I do,” he said. “I… I want to tell Ruairí that you’re not an enemy to the kingdom but an ally. I want him to meet you. I want… I want you to be welcome in our lands. Providing you don’t eat our sheep…”

He rumbled a low laugh and dipped his head to nuzzle Nye’s side. The horse seemed completely unbothered by his presence. “No, precious one. I will not eat your people’s sheep. There are plenty of wild ones to sustain me.” He drew in a deep breath and held it before rising up to reveal his chest and exhaling gently. Taking his talons like two pincers, he plucked free a single, golden scale from right over his heart and held it out to Nye.

The knight took it like it was a sacred relic and held it in the palm of his hand. Its warmth was surprising, and he closed his fingers around it before looking up for an explanation.

“My magic will allow me to feel what you feel when you hold it against your skin, Nye,” he said. “If you wish to see me, I will know it, and I will come.”

Nye squeezed it tight and tried to ignore the ache in his chest. “I wish you could come with me now,” he said, “But you’re right. They would attack you this time.”

“Perhaps in the future,” Fury smiled. “Don’t be sad… It… I do not like to feel you sad…”

Nye kissed the smooth scales between the dragon’s nostrils and tucked the gifted scale safely into the pouch on his belt. “I’ll have it made into a pendant that I can wear around my neck, always.”

Fury swallowed thickly and looked away, but he was obviously deeply moved by the promise.

Eliara’s palomino mare might have been alright with the dragon’s presence, but she was not at all happy at the prospect of a ride in the snow. She did allow Nye to mount, though only after making her sentiments known with a hefty nip on his arm. With an oath to return the mare and a promise to the dragon to summon him when he was first able to, Nye set off for the capital.

Eliara’s stud was only a day’s ride from the city walls, and when Nye trotted in near sunset, the first place he went was the Temple of Healing. Seren screeched when she saw her brother and flew at him, looping her arms around his neck and sobbing. “I thought you were dead,” she cried. “The prince said…”

“Hush,” he smiled, holding her too. “It’s quite the tale, but first, this is for you. It is for Lord Mortingale.”

Thanks to the lost knowledge in the book, the lord was healed within in a month, and Nye returned to his life in the castle. Ruairí begged him to tell every detail of his time with the dragon, and while Nye was a loyal servant to the crown, he felt justified in not telling his prince quite everything… Magister Ferrar seemed to suspect a deeper bond existed between the two of them than simple friendship, but if he did, he kept that to himself.

When spring melted the snow and the crocuses pushed their bold, purple spearheads through the frosty ground to liven up the pastures, Nye took the mare and his own black gelding which Ruairí had led back to the castle when he’d been snatched away by Fury, and he returned the mare to Eliara.

Then, in the privacy of the deserted, wildflower meadow, he took the silver pendant that he had had crafted for him and cradled it in his hand, closing his eyes and trying to beg the dragon silently to come to him.

He waited in the pasture for an hour before he heard the beating of wings and when he looked up into the clear, spring sky, he saw a flash of gold and his heart leapt. The dragon banked, showing his gleaming wings, and a huge gout of flame burst from his maw across the sky like a pennant before he turned, tucked his wings, and made a peregrine dive towards the meadow.

He barely stopped in time to avoid crushing Nye beneath him, and when he nuzzled him like a cat over and over, rumbling and purring and crooning, Nye laughed and kissed him. “I missed you too, Fury,” he said.

“You have no idea,” the dragon replied. “Gods, you have no idea. Are you well?”

“Can’t you tell?” he asked, only then releasing the large pendant to dangle back against his chest.

“Yes,” Fury laughed. “Yes, I can. My most precious treasure, you are happy and I love it. I missed you. Will you fly with me?”

Nye turned and looked back to find Eliara standing at a polite distance. The horsewoman nodded once and called, “I’ll keep your gelding for you til you return.”

“Thank you,” he said.

And with that, the dragon picked him up and thrashed his wings hard, taking off and soaring up into the clear sky.

Nye spent a week at Fury’s home, and after that, he returned to the capital with Fury this time.

Ruairí was the first to greet the dragon, and he swore that Fury could come and go from their city in peace, so long as he respected the same bargain. Fury solemnly gave his oath in return. The second human to greet Fury was Seren, and the two spent a solid three hours talking about healing treatises until Nye and the prince interrupted politely with an offer of refreshments. Fury had no time for Magister Ferrar, apparently.

Thus, the ancient alliance between dragon and human was reforged by a knight and his golden dragon, and Nye spent the days when he wasn’t at his prince’s side in the loving arms of his dragon.

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, and you made it all the way to the end, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

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#dragon #dragons #dragon x human #male dragon x male human #dragon x knight #exophilia #monsterfucker #monster romance #dragon boyfriend

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utilitycaster · 6 months

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Unpopular opinion: parts of the cr fandom are really dismissive/ reductive of Travis’s characters. It feels like it’s due to Travis being seen as THE cis het man of the group, and by extension his characters must be heteronormative and bad, despite the fact that you could have queer interpretations of his characters. At the very least, Travis’s characters explore masculinity and the different ways it might look. It’s like the people who are all “ew men are gross and shitty” and act like that’s an absolutely normal reaction to a man just existing.

So this is another one in that I agree with the initial statement, but I'm actually not sure re: the reasoning why. I think it's possible but I could not tell you for sure.

I used to, again, think this was people carrying through Campaign 1 elements well beyond the point where C1 had ended, and so Grog having an intelligence of 6 was being applied to Travis; and this definitely does come through to an extent when people treat Fjord (objectively as smart as Beau without her circlet) as stupid or act shocked that Chetney is the brains of Bells Hells or that he can play a Cerrit, Fjord, or Nathaniel. However, again, I think this is one of those opinions that pops up among people who weren't around for Campaign 1 (or early enough in C2 to be exposed to it regularly) so I don't know if that's the case anymore. It could still be - it could be that Approved Fandom Opinions get passed down even when the logic behind them has long since been lost; that's a really common thing in institutional memory. But I can't say for sure.

I also have in the past credited it to, as you said, people assuming his characters are the cishet guys and then writing them off. That's still possible - I've seen both Fjord and Chetney called "token straight" despite considerable evidence of bisexuality, and they also paradoxically are both commonly headcanoned as trans while still getting called "token straight," which sort of ties into a post I would need to find from someone else from quite some time ago about which cast members are granted agency by the fandom in their choices vs. which are assumed to be the victims of circumstance. And I do think that there are people in fandom who have decided men are icky or whatever, and I used to think this came from a place of bigotry and a slide towards t*rf ideology but I now do genuinely think it's just idiots who don't grant interiority to characters outside their own limited understanding.

But I think it's also useful to consider a few things, most of which I've brought up before:

Travis is extremely offline. He is not here to entertain your headcanons; he has been politely but openly dismissive of some (imo, really fucking dumb) fanon/fan theories. I think the cast frequently talks about how it's their table, and I think that's valid and correct, but Travis is one of the players who lives it the most. He is playing this game with his friends, and he'd like it to be a good story, but if you don't like it, he is not here to make you like it. I think that really fucks with the parasocial connections some people desire with the cast.

Travis's characters tend to examine masculinity as a performance but also the general performance of the self, and the fact that you cannot in the end control how you are perceived entirely, and I think that really unsettles people who have equated presentation with reality and are again, looking for external validation of the self.

Travis can play it big but he's often extremely subtle, especially with his more serious characters, and he's not as easily quotable out of context as some others at the table. I think because he is a lot more naturalistic than dramatic at times (Chetney notwithstanding) and isn't as pithy and quotable in his characters as many of Taliesin's PCs are, and a lot of the strength is in the delivery, he gets overlooked despite being very good with words on the fly.

And finally: this would be a whole post on its own but people are still very foolishly wed to this idea that pressing the big red button in D&D is Wild and Chaotic and haha Big ADHD Man when it's actually how you play D&D if you're not a coward; the button is where the story is stored, and a lot of Travis's strength is that he is extremely good at understanding what the GM wants and supporting it with sufficient grace that it's only visible if you know what you're fucking doing.

#answered #Anonymous #in the end although it's frustrating the fandom often sells him short #every gm is like this man is the greatest player i've ever had so who's really right in the end #anyway. watch candela chapter 2.#opinions rating ask meme

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jalluzas-ferney · 4 days

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Cole wasnt “changed” to be gay. He never was STRAIGHT in the first place.

and hell- whi says he’s strictly gay now? Cole could like girls as well for all we know 🤷‍♀️ uk like, be a Bi king or smth.

The thing is, just like people are used to seeing characters from books as white as a default until stated otherwise, just because they’re so used to it, this happens with straightness as well.

People are will BEG and SWEAR that a character is straight just because they were never outright stated to be otherwise. And emphasis on “outright stated” because even when there is coding, hinting or just blatant portrayal of it, people will still deny that that certain character is queer because it’s not like they canonically turned to the camera and told the audience that “I AM NOT STRAIGHT.”

But to them, even if the character rarely showed any interest in the opposite gender or ever really talked ab their attraction, the character is just automatically straight. It’s just inherent. Of course they’re straight.

And you know what? Even if the character does, who said Bi people don’t exist? I have a lot of Bi friends and a family member that either are bi or are dating a bi person, and their attraction towards the opposite gender has never invalidated their attraction towards the same if gender non-conforming.

And even then, a lot of gay men or lesbians have struggled with comp-het in the past, reuniting them in having tried to date or even marry people from the opposite gender only to then realize they never truly were straight, and were just compulsively trying to conform or believe that they are straight because again, straightness has always been seen as the status quo. As the normal thing to be. The default.

And this isn’t me saying that “the writers were writing Cole as a dude with comp-het this whole time” or smth because I don’t know that. And while I could theorize that I don’t think the writers really were thinking about implementing compulsive heterosexuality into this silly Lego show.

But just like I can’t assure that Cole canonically has suffered from comp-het or that he is gay and not Bi or hell he could be asexual or smth while being gay WHO KNOWS-but just like we can’t exactly assure that he is exactly one of those labels, people cannot come here and act like Cole was ever REALLY canonically straight. Hell. You could even say None of the characters of the show are STRAIGHT because who said they were? You can def interpret them as straight! But why do people insist on acting as if portraying Cole as having a male character a romantic interest as them CHANGING him as if he really ever WAS straight?

No one acts that when a character is straight that it was a huge betrayal or smth because the character was “OBVIOUSLY” gay by default. No. People just see it as normal and move on because that has always been the status quo.

Because this is a heteronormative society as much as people try to act as if making a character gay is “appealing to the world and the general public” as if straight people are suddenly oppressed. Hetero friends of mine or my family will always automatically assume I’m straight because that’s the norm to them. People will always assume someone it het or cis unless outright stated otherwise.

And if you can’t tell what’s wrong with that…

…

And you know what? Get all pissed off about it. Complain. Make petition for “saving your boy Cole” (save him from what exactly? It’s not like Christianity exists in Ninjago so yall can scratch hell out of the list at least) the season was made. The character of Geo was made. The scenes where Geo fantasized about Cole being awesome and handsome were made. Scenes where Cole and geo talk about needing each other were made. Scenes where geo and Cole hold hands and look at each other all lovey dovey were made. None of that bigoted complaining is going to change that. Theyre not going back and deleting those scenes and they’re not suddenly gonna write Geo and Cole in completely different way from what they were written before. Womp. WOMP.

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lego ninjago #savemyboycole #cole #ninjago cole #cole Ninjago #dragons rising #ninjago dr #gay rights #gay #comp-het #comphet #queer #queer representation #queer rep in media #geo Ninjago #Ninjago geo #geo

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a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5 · 1 month

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Scar Tissue (Price x Trans Masc! Reader)

Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, completely SFW, FTM reader intended but should be safe for masc leaning enbies too, 2nd person POV, reader has a singular double mastectomy scar as is very self conscious about it, ambiguous warm drink cuz I don’t like tea or coffee lol, \obnoxiously self indulgent in my opinion but I hope it resonates with others

A/n: Woof I’m nervous but I do really like how this turned out. It’s cute and it even made my partner blush despite him being cis lol also Price is your husband because it’s cute and I said so. Be gentle with this one, yeah?

Although this is safe for all ages, I ask minors please refrain from interacting with me and this post, and any other posts. This is a space for adults.

The night always made things tougher. Something about the quiet, the darkness, the otherwise calm atmosphere made it harder to chase away the more negative thoughts. Insecurities burned hot in the cold of night as you stood outside on the small veranda of your little English apartment in the crisp wintry air to try and chase them away. The rain had only just stopped pouring down in torrents. The sound of wet tires driving below you accompanied the familiar, gentle smell of rain. It was comforting. Not enough to dull the pain, unfortunately, but comforting still.

You didn’t pay attention to the time, doing so usually just stressed you out during these moments, so you hadn’t noticed how late it was until your husband had sidled up behind you with a warm mug he’d made just for you. He handed it to you silently. He learned a long time ago what being outside this long this late at night usually meant. He wrapped a warm arm around your chilled shoulders and gently pulled you against him. Finally, you started to slowly pull away from your negative thinking just long enough to quietly speak.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage, but Price didn’t mind. He knew that for you, your words carried more weight than they seemed on the surface.

He hummed in response, giving your shoulders a small squeeze to say ‘you’re welcome.’

“Doin’ alright?”

A playful glare was all your husband got in return. He was happy to see you at least still had the heart to joke a bit with him.

“Right. Stupid question. Sorry, love.”

Eventually, you’d take a sip from your mug. He always prepared your drinks to your preferences. It made your chest warm.

“Wanna talk about it?” He was looking at you now. That gentle expression always comforted you.

You shook your head and took another slow sip, “Just insecurities again. Nothing major, I’m fine.”

“That why you've been out here on the veranda staring out at nothing the past couple hours?”

You took another sip, electing to say nothing. You did make it extra noisy though, pulling a rumbling chuckle from Price’s chest in the process.

Eventually, he guided you inside. You were as cold as the dead when he’d gotten to you. He wanted to warm you up and, if you’d talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. Knowing it was an insecurity of yours narrowed it down, but not enough to pin it. He needed to know a bit more.

You sat on your small couch, Price quickly following you. He took your hand in his. The callouses that littered his palm and fingers were always grounding. You were certain if you were blindfolded and told to guess which hand belonged to him, you’d guess correctly without fail. You knew every dip and ridge in his skin like your own.

You’d finished your drink after a while. You sighed, leaning into your husband’s chest. His heartbeat never failed to help your mind quiet down a bit.

“Just my scar again…” you mumbled, lacing your fingers in with his.

He kissed his teeth, the clicking noise it made bringing you out of the beginning of another spiral, “What did I tell you ‘bout that, love? You know I think it’s perfect.”

“I know,” you said, tucking your head under his chin, “‘Fraid I don’t think the same way, is all.”

His free hand rose up to hold your head and he pressed a soft lingering kiss into your hair, “That’s why I’m here. To think that way for you. C’mon, then, on your back.”

You groaned, pretending your melancholy face hadn’t broken out into a small grin, as you were guided onto your back. Price hovered above you and lifted your shirt up to your collarbone, kissing slowly up your belly as he did so. His kisses finally reached the part of your chest you couldn’t feel anymore. The scar tissue had faded quite a bit, but it was still clearly visible. One straight line stretched across your ribcage. It was uneven, thicker in some places than others. When your clothes were on, you often forgot about it. But when they weren’t…

You couldn’t feel much of the kisses that your husband trailed across the scar. His beard would drag across the area around it, your body unsure if it tickled or itched, but you could only feel the pressure of his lips through the numb skin. Still, you looked down and watched as he worshiped the ugly line that ripped through your skin. It wasn’t neat, wasn’t typical, wasn’t the ideal, but Price always showed he never cared about that.

”It made you happy, yeah? All that matters, then,” is what he’d always say.

All those mean thoughts finally started to melt away as he continued to kiss along your chest, further up to your collarbone. He pulled your shirt down so he could kiss up your neck, across your jaw, and finally up to your mouth. You felt him grin against your lips. You suppressed an annoyed whine as he pulled away to look at you.

“Better?”

“A bit.”

“I can keep going.”

“Would you?”

You fell asleep on the couch with your shirt pulled up to your shoulders and Price’s lips against your scar.

#ftm reader #trans masc reader #masc nb reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x male reader #john price x ftm reader #captain price x male reader #capitain price x ftm reader #price x male reader #price x ftm reader

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genericpuff · 2 months

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(disclaimer, this is coming from a heartstopper fan! i love heartstopper this is not hate!!)

i think at least part of the annoyance with heartstopper isn't just that isn't a light fluffy ya series, it's also that its another example of how the queer media that gets the most mainstream attention tends to be this kind of light fluffy ya stuff that focuses on two conventially attractive queer boys or men and it also tends to be written by people who aren't queer men on top of that, so not only can it feel very samey but it can feel like other queer people are relegated to side characters in the stories of cis gay men. and as someone who loves heartstopper i get that on some level.

btw by "written by people who aren't queer men" NOT saying that isn't not written by queer people. alice oseman is genderfluid and aroace, becky albertalli is bisexual, etc. and while i think the point is still valid there is a misogyny element in that a lot of the focus is put on things that are written by women or people they perceive as women while tumblr darlings like good omens and ofmd (written by presumably straight men) don't get the same treatment.

nah y'know what, that's fair, I can get how frustrating it can be for a lot of popular queer stories to feel samey, I've definitely gotten BL-fatigue in the past on platforms like WT and Tapas because many of them ARE the same and feel like they're just piggybacking off trends for the sake of clout (and this is a problem in the heterocis romance stories too, don't get me fucking started on how dark romance has turned into torture porn where vulnerable women are constantly being victimized by rich powerful men and we're just supposed to root for that ??), but it's one of those things where like, what might be seen as just more corny shit could very well be the revelation another person needs that they're gay / trans / etc. that the story helped them realize. there's just a point where i see these arguments against cheesy popular queer stories that teeter dangerously close to being queerphobic and, as you said, misogynist, simply because "it was written by someone who i perceive as a woman so that makes it BAD!"

and I didn't mention it in the original post because I didn't want to @ OP in any way but in the comment section they literally said "i dont think heartstopper itself is all that bad but it has pretty much aimed the direction of all mainstream gay comics towards wholesomeness instead of anything more interesting so i want to destroy heartstopper to destroy heartstopper clones" and that gives me massive ick because it implies their sole reasoning for including it was "chill and happy queer stories bad, if a character doesn't suffer enough then they're not interesting"?? why can't LGBTQ+ audiences have more 'vanilla' stories that aren't all sad and angsty all the time? are we not entitled to the same corny romcom vanilla shit that the heterocis are entitled to? why do LGBTQ+ characters - and by extension, people - have to suffer to qualify as being 'interesting'? You're already interesting, you're you! like i'm sorry, are we trying to scare people straight??? 😭 shit, that's even a plot point that's touched on in Heartstopper itself where Nick is questioning his sexuality and he starts googling shit and it's just ALL the terrifying news stories of queer kids being ostracized / bullied / murdered / etc. and as much as it's important to be aware of the ongoing issues so we can keep fighting for our rights, we ALSO need to find balance and remember to celebrate the stories that AREN'T that because we need something to be hopeful for, something we can find peace in. I don't think Heartstopper is some deeply profound piece of work, but it also doesn't seem like it's trying to be? It's a low stakes celebration of the LGBTQ+ experience that's very warm and comforting, especially for those who are the same ages as the main characters who are often being persuaded by the grown-ups around them that it's a death sentence to be gay / trans / etc.

and it's not like we HAVEN'T had popular pieces of queer representative media that explored things outside of cheesy BL, like are we forgetting about Nimona which explored both the gay and genderfluid experience in a very accessible and fun way while still being mature and not pandering to its audience over how society has made monsters out of queer people?

(and even then I'm sure there are folks who would argue "actually, here are the issues with Nimona" , and that's fine tbh, we can like media and appreciate what it brings to the table while also discussing what it lacks in, such as what we're doing now with Heartstopper! progress is a never-ending journey!!)

and also okay, not me trying to be argumentative in the slightest BUT I don't really get the argument that 'other queer people' are being sidelined for the main characters? unless there's something I'm missing here lol (I will apologize for that because it's admittedly been a while since I've re-read Heartstopper so I should probably go do that to refresh myself on it). like i say that in the sense that Heartstopper is clearly meant to be about two gay male teenagers. just like how Nimona is about a shapeshifter who is not a girl or a boy (they're Nimona!) and a gay man who are both trying to change the system that's other'd them for years for the better. that is the story Heartstopper is trying to tell and it achieves that. it also has a trans character plotline that I could see people arguing feels sidelined but I think there's a massive difference between 'sidelining' and just having a B plot ? my honest take with that is not every piece of representative media is going to be able to cover every single topic, it's just not doable for one piece of media to be a monolith for everything, the same as how one person can't be a monolith for an entire community of people. BUT that doesn't mean works like Heartstopper and Nimona can't inspire others to also lend their voices into the medium and create that representation that's needed. That's why we need ✨variety✨ and Heartstopper is part of that variety by offering a more vanilla cutesy story full of good vibes for people who want that sort of thing.

IDK, I think there's just a lot of nuance that's being missed in that poll, and in the difference between Heartstopper inspiring more people to write happy cozy BL stories vs. implying that it's had an actual negative influence on modern art and media in the same way that series like Homestuck and LO have to the point that people think it needs to be destroyed, like wtf LOL Like they're not even comparable IMO and a lot of the arguments I see people making about why it is just feel a little backwards, and those arguments obfuscate the real issue which is just "popular thing is popular and people like to piggyback off popular shit". That's a fact for basically any niche and genre, these trends come and go. Even if the whole cutesy BL trend passes one day (which it will) it'll be replaced by something else that people will also inevitably find samey and boring after a while. This is not a concept that's unique to LGBTQ+ media, it's universal.

Balance is important and I think finding that balance is as much a responsibility on the shoulders of the consumer as it is on the creator. And I don't think Heartstopper deserves to be put into the same camp as stories like LO which literally straightwashes its canonically queer characters and gives those queer identities to nothingburger characters who are easy to shoo out of the plot to make way for the heterocis ones (while still parading itself around like it's actually 'queer rep' which... it really isn't.) Like all three of the comics in that poll are vastly different, serving different audiences, with different goals and intentions. It's comparing apples to oranges to pineapples.

The worst Heartstopper has to offer is just a low stakes plot that might not appeal to everyone or feel 'samey' which yeah, valid, but in the grander sense of whether or not it's had a negative effect on queer media just for being... cheesy? And inspiring other people to write stories like it? I don't get the argument, it feels like it's severely missing the point of what we're fighting for here - to live happy little unbothered lives - but that's just me ╮(￣ω￣;)╭ I'm definitely not trying to be a dick about it in any way and I don't want anyone to think I'm not open to the opposing points here, I do agree with you on the oversaturation of samey BL stories, but it just rose some massive red flags to see Heartstopper next to frigging Homestuck and Lore Olympus LOL

#ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #ama #heartstopper

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lgbtqiamuslimpedia · 9 months

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Boyah

Boyah (plural: Boyat) was subcultural identity of AFAB non-binary,tomboy,demi girl & trans-masculine folks of Persian Gulf. Boyat are asigned female at birth,but express gender atypical behaviour. The origin of this queer subculture is unclear, some boyat claimed that it was started through online forums & groups. [citation needed]

Boyah subculture was more visible in Gulf states (including Kuwait,Oman,Saudi Arabia,UAE,Bahrain). Boyah identity may fall under the modern Transgender and Non-binary umbrella. However some people may considered them as people of forth gender.

Sexuality

Boyat folk's sexuality can be confusing in various cultural contexts. Most of the Boyat had intimate and romantic relationships with cis-girls in their past life, but they do not consider themselves as homosexual.

The term Boyah itself does not mean lesbian in arabic.In later life many Boyat had to pursue a heterosexual marriage & had children.Because marriage is a obligatory in local arabic customs.In addition to this, some boyah were androsexual & interested in boys only.

Culture & Lifestyle

Trans-masculine/tomboys/AFAB non-binary/AFAB genderpunk took the “Boyah” cultural identity in their early adolescence. On the otherhand, some boyat took the male role to challenge societal gender norms and stereotypes in Arabic Gulf States.

In general, a boyah is characterized by no make-up, no feminine expressions, no feminine name,feminine pronouns.In boyah subculture, Boyat community may use a massive masculine watches.Boyat people worn loose-fitting male cloth with a touch of the military, vibrantly coloured dresses,shirts and boyah jeans(which are baggy with big prints all over them). Since the age of internet Arab's boyat community started informal groups,online forums.

Most of the boyat have to lead double lives because gulf states has strict cultural gender roles especially for womxn.Many of them are forced to get married.In general Boyah phenomena is considered a disgrace to an arab family's honour.Additionally atypical gender expression is seems to be indecent and deviant in GCC states.Many boyat face stigma for not adhering with rigid patriarchal gender roles.

After leaving home, many undergo a radical transformation,changing their clothes at school/college or a friend's house.While in transition ,they run no real risk of being caught because,while in public, Emirates women are required to wear the national dress - a long black over-garment called an abaya, which makes it easier to switch roles without drawing attention.

Media

In general, Gulf media portrays queerness in negetive ways. A Boyah named Abeer appeared on the Saudi TV Show “Ya Hala” where he/ze said that he/ze was attracted to women while still at school. He/Ze had a complete love relationship with a classmate for a long time. Another person named Hamood joined a show of Radio Sawa where he/ze explained ze was rebelling against social (gender) norms and his/zee family’s restrictions through this boyah phenomena.

On a national television of UAE, a boyah named Bandar openly spoke about his queer relationship with another girl and expressed the desire to marry her and have children with her through IVF. His statement on Abu Dhabi's national television shocked the whole nation.

Decline of Boyah Culture

In the Persian Gulf region, boyah identity became very controversial since 2007. In 2007, the Kuwaiti parliament amended Article 198 of the country’s penal code so that anyone “imitating the opposite sex in any way” could face up to a year in jail and/or a fine of 1,000 dinars ($3,500). A further problem was that the law made no attempt to define “imitating the opposite sex” So it was basically left to the discretion of the police. Within a couple of weeks at least 14 people had been arrested in Kuwait City & thrown into prison. Boyat made their debut as a public concern in 2008 when Dubai police denounced cross-dressing - its chief, Dahi Khalfan Tamim, called on the Ministry of Social Affairs to find out how widespread the practice is and what causes it.

In 2009, Dubai launched a public campaign under the slogan "Excuse Me, I am a Girl", which cautioned against “masculine” behaviour among AFAB queers & tomboys and aimed to steer them towards "femininity". The impetus for this was a moral panic which swept through several Gulf states at that time, regarding the Boyah phenomena. 2 months after announcing the campaign the police persecuted 40 people (for their gender atypical expression), imprisoned them for 3 years in jail.In addition, trans-masculine/trans males,trans women,gender-queers were also shamed & abused by the UAE's police team.

Public Attitudes

Many conservative patriarchal arab people see a greater danger in the Boyah subcultural practices; they fear it can become permanent and cause great distress for the women and their families.

Psychiatrist Yousef Abou Allaban says, "It can go extreme, where they change their sex and have an operation.'' Saudi journalist Yousef Al-Qafari said in an interview on Radio Sawa that family disintegration and lack of true love have led women to act like a man. Al-Qafari said education was the best way to tackle this phenomenon.He called on the Ministry of Education to take up this role.

Social worker Nadia Naseer said, “Families play an essential role in such cases. Families should monitor their female members, especially when they start acting like men by cutting their hair short, wearing men’s clothing, or refusing to wear women’s accessories”. She also said, when a girl or woman does this,she is looking for attention & sending a message that she is a boyah.

Saudi writer Randa Alsheikh, in one of her columns, said that she attended a social gathering where she saw a group of females who appeared almost completely like men.“I would not be exaggerating if I say I could not tell the difference between them and men,” she wrote.She said that they looked, talked and walked like men & “even worse” some appeared to be in their 40s. We need to quickly address this phenomenon to contain these girls so that they are able to build good families and a healthy society,”

#Boyah #Booyah #Boyat #arabic #GCC #Persian Gulf #queer #trans masculine #genderqueer #gender variance #AFAB #Middle Eastern #queer culture #cultural gender identity

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comradekatara · 1 month

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do you have headcanons about the gaang and fire girls’ gender identities and sexualities?

i mean yeah 😭😭 obviously 😭😭 im literally a homosexual on tumblr dot edu. that said, i don’t really care for the term “headcanon” in this context, as i think that reading characters as informed by the text constitutes “interpretation” rather than baseless theorizing and fancy. i do get that the term headcanon is pretty ubiquitous in fandom spaces, but to me there is a big difference between “interpretation” (something you can cite the text to persuasively argue, but which may differ across readers) and “headcanon” (baseless inventions purely for self-indulgent pleasure). when it comes to the characters in atla and their relationships to gender as informed by patriarchy, i think there is more than enough material to suggest my readings, as gender plays a fairly significant role in the worldbuilding and characterization. obviously when it comes to more minor characters, that is when a vibes-based analysis is needed, as takes on less integral players are largely conjecture. i have no evidence that june, for example, is a lesbian, beyond simply vibes. and as much as i trust my own judgment when it comes to sniffing out dykes, there is no real textual evidence that june eats pussy. i simply know in my heart of hearts that she does. HOWEVER, that is not what i am doing when i discuss the principal players of atla, whose relationships to gender are largely crucial to how they function in the narrative and how we read them. so without further ado..

aang is actually the vaguest character for me in terms of how i read his relationship to gender, because it’s very clear that he wasn’t raised in a traditionally patriarchal society and thus has a fairly different view on gender than the rest of the world, especially a world whose borders and categorizations have been more rigidly reified after a century of imperialism and colonialism. i can see the argument for aang being a cis, straight boy, and i can see the argument for aang being a nonbinary bisexual kid, etc etc. the one thing we know about aang is that he likes girls. like, really likes girls. so i’ve always kind of read him as mostly straight, but i don’t think he would rigidly define his own gender and sexuality along those lines, even if functionally he would probably present as a straight guy. but he could also be bi, or trans, or what have you. beyond his love for katara (and that time he rightfully felt humiliated by the fire nation portraying him as a woman, not because he doesn’t “respect women,” but because he correctly located it as a propagandistic tool of disrespect and colonial humiliation on their part) it’s not really crucial to his character either way.

katara, on the other hand, really only makes sense if you read her as a cis straight girl. i know that people have gotten incensed over my saying this in the past, but it’s just the most logical reading of her character. she is confident in her femininity and sexuality. she is a girl who can successfully conform to gender roles (and expects others to, quite frankly) but also recognizes and protests the fundamental inequalities of patriarchy. she has internalized a lot of patriarchal ideas about what is appropriate, but also understands that on a structural level, equality across genders is needed. she’s not a girl who struggles with her own gender identity or sexuality, she’s just a person who’s sick of being dismissed and devalued due to her gender, as if her femininity negates her strength or her capacity for anger. she is feminine, strong, and angry. she likes fashion and boys and ecoterrorism. when i call katara a straight girl, it is not to position her as a less compelling character (the fact that i have to even say this is crazy to me. sometimes characters are straight and that doesn’t make them less compelling??? unless you’re some kind of egomaniac who can only like characters if you relate to them… but she's literally the world's specialest princess). in fact, as someone whose best friends are all incredibly intelligent yet kind of ridiculous straight girls, i say it with the deepest, utmost love.

sokka is not cis to me but sometimes people will "agree" with that sentiment by being like "yeah he's a trans boy" and i'm just like.... what. manhood & masculinity are clearly concepts that are imposed upon him as a role he feels compelled to fulfill within a colonial paradigm. people will also say "sokka's arc is about learning what it means to be a real man" and like. if anything sokka's arc is learning that he does not Have to be a "man." so i guess technically i read sokka as nonbinary, but i also don't think sokka would ever bother to conceptualize his own gender, he'd kind of just reach a point wherein he inwardly feels like his relationship to gender is no longer significant to how he defines himself, and not really communicate that feeling to anyone to except for probably suki. also i think he's bisexual (again, he would never outwardly communicate that, he'd just be like "of course i've experimented, i'm a scientist") but with a strong preference for women. and thank god for that bc his daddy issues are so bad; he should not be dating men.

i do read toph as a baby butch who doesn't quite know how to articulate her own relationship to gender and sexuality yet bc she is still a baby. but i definitely see her as embracing her masculinity down the line, as something that isn't only valuable to her as it is positioned contra femininity, but as a mode of expression in its own right. and i know that long hair =/= femininity necessarily, but i do think toph would cut her hair short as a way of undermining the confucian values of belonging to the family, which i know may seem like its unrelated to gender, but considering the patriarchal role of the nuclear family structure informing toph's quite radical disavowal of it (we don't talk about lok, but she was also a single mom by choice so like that's ...... something, at least) toph's decision to renounce those entrenched values is reflective of her gender identity and refusal to adhere to patriarchal dogmas as they impose femininity as passivity and submission. i do still see her as identifying as a woman though, but in a distinctly butch dyke way that complicates the role of womanhood as it rejects the notion that womanhood is primarily a performance for the male gaze. so i think toph is a masc lesbian, which i suppose is quite an obvious reading of her gender, and i don't think it's the only valid interpretation either. i can accept someone reading toph as transmasc or bisexual or otherwise recognizing that these identities can be unstable and even in flux. for example, acknowledging toph's baby crush on sokka means problematizing the notion of her as a lesbian, or at least it can. but i do think sokka is like the one "man" (see above) that dykes find appealing (suki, ty lee, etc etc.) so it makes perfect sense that he'd be like. her ring of keys moment. if anything toph having a crush on sokka illustrates her latent lesbianism (although nothing will ever come of it, obviously). and her gender is also just Lesbian.

suki's relationship to gender is a lot less complex than toph's or sokka's because she's also just a far less developed character in her own right, so i've always kind of just read her gender as an extension of kyoshi's for thematic reasons. and since kyoshi is canonically bisexual with a preference for women, i also read suki as bisexual with a preference for women. like i definitely think that she was surprised at first by how into sokka she was because she had never experienced liking a "boy" before. and i also think it's fun to read kyoshi as trans (no, not because she's tall and "aggressive," dear god); if you've read the novels you'll probably understand what i mean by that. so i'm partial to trans girl suki as well, but i think her being cis or trans is actually equally likely because she literally grew up on the isle of lesbos. but nowhere else on avatar planet in that particular epoch is this true. except for maybe the swamp idk. anyway she's a bi dyke to me for sure.

zuko is very obviously gay. i'd say that zuko's sexuality is the most obviously entrenched in the entire show. however, i don't think the writers themselves are aware of this (because it was 2005 and gay people weren't invented until december 2014 korrasami handhold) so they clumsily try to get him back together with mai in the finale even though they had actually constructed a near-perfect portrait of two closeted children attempting to perform a functional relationship under political pressure to please their noble families. but so much of zuko's arc is potently reflective of the struggle of a closeted child on the journey to assert himself against an abusive patriarch who imposes his rigid ideals of what kind of masculinity is appropriate for boys to model and what isn't. obviously the political and ideological dimensions to his arc as his consciousness is raised constitutes the primary aspect of his character, but reading him as gay is also just the logical extension of that journey. i could literally go through every single episode scene by scene explaining how every single facet illustrates his latent homosexuality in such and such way. but i'm pretty sure everyone following me also very much knows this, and also i don't actually care enough about zuko to do that (sorry zuzu). oh and yeah he's cis (obviously) but i have seen (sparse) transfem zuko interpretations that were kind of compelling. however, i do just think he's a cis boy who struggles with adhering perfectly to a fascist model of masculinity and has some stereotypically gay/effeminate inclinations. and also the blue spirit is drag and the height of camp. but yeah he's cis probably.

azula is a lesbian (cis, again, there's no way she's ever going to seriously contemplate transing her gender) and i'm not just saying that because she's cunty and mean. her relationship to mai and (especially) ty lee is highly reflective of the experience of teenage (closeted) lesbians in very intense friendships with other girls that precariously toe the line between platonic and romantic. azula's relationships are obviously also complicated by the factor of coercion and the fact that none of them actually have any agency to act on their desires for a myriad of reasons. the only time azula ever displays interest in a boy is when she is attempting to soothe her own ego by proving that she is in fact desirable to the most powerful boy in the room – a space wherein the hierarchy of court is replicated by the hierarchy of high school popularity rankings, and she is no longer at the top of the food chain and must climb her way up the ladder by asserting her ability to "attain" the famous cha(d)n. she also clearly has no idea what to do once she has attained such a boy because her desire is superficial, and she can only actually operate on the logic of domination and conquest that was instilled in her by ozai. however, contrast this with the softness and affection with which she treats ty lee, the jealousy she displays when ty lee is fawned over by boys (which she mistakes for jealousy over the fact that she wants the boys' attention for herself), or the devastation she feels over her betrayal. azula is capable of genuine love and affection, even if she has spent her entire life convincing herself that she isn't, but that affection is reserved for her female friends. [lord farquaad pointing] baby dyke.

ty lee is probably a lesbian but there's also the possibility that she is attracted to men but would simply never in one million years actually date one in any capacity, and thus is functionally a lesbian regardless. but like. she literally joins the dyke warriors as the culmination of her arc which is about how she hides her true face and performs and contorts herself to please others for the sake of her own survival, before asserting that her love for another girl is so strong that she would sacrifice her own life for that love, and then ultimately embracing authenticity. it literally does not get any gayer than that.

mai kind of has trans girl swag actually but also there's literally no circumstance wherein her image-obsessed noble family would permit her to transition (especially since they so clearly favor sons over daughters) so she's probably just a really cool cis girl (those exist, i'm told). and also she's a dyke obviously. i do think she did have a crush on zuko at some point as a child, but if anything it was born of the mutual recognition that they have something in common (gayness) and so she found him to be an appropriate yet also kind of thrilling object of fascination. obviously he's very different once he returns from his banishment, and so that illusion is almost immediately shattered, but she nonetheless tries her damn best to be a good, supportive girlfriend to him, and invests a lot of emotional energy into their (somewhat farcical) relationship. that said, i do think that assuming that her attraction to zuko is genuine beyond the social pressures that facilitated it is just. really sad for her. so i think she is a lesbian.

rapid fire round: iroh straight (duh), jet repressed bicuriosity but functionally straight, yue bisexual (vibes-based assessment), king kuei bisexual as is bosco the bear, kanna lesbian, hama bisexual, herbalist lesbian, piandao gay, haru straight, long feng eunuch.

#sapphikatara #the gaang and #analysis #asks #abolish headcanons. no one should have them unless they are your nostrils. we do READINGS here.#anyway.#you know who we don't talk about enough #long feng. let's talk about long feng

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