Monterey Bay Aquarium
ellievsbear
roma★
occasionally subtle
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
🪼
tannertan36
tumblr dot com
we're not kids anymore.
Claire Keane
ojovivo
Jules of Nature
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Origami Around
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from United States
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seen from South Africa
seen from Guatemala
seen from Finland
seen from Kuwait
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Kuwait
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
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seen from United States
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@glissadia
dragon whelps are so cute!!! she's so new to being a dragongirl and as adorable as she might be you have to promise not to laugh too hard while she stumbles and bumbles relearning how her body moves.
*choking back laughter* n-no darling you're doing great! here, let me show you how your limbs flex. feel the tension in this muscle? good, you'll figure yourself out before long!
hi i just saw you followed me back and as The Target Audience for Soar i want to say 1. i love yr fic sm and 2. pls do not feel pressured to rush working on it! but i and many others will be v happy to see it update eventually
Aww, thank you! I'm definitely still trying to work on Soar; the next chapter is 2/3rds done and I've hopefully found a way around the writer's block that's been keeping me from working on it for a couple of months. This isn't a project I ever want to stop until it's done, and it is far from done.
been on estrogen for a month. getting a tail bud. is that supposed to happen
of course not! That's usually a symptom of a dose being too low. Id recommend doubling or tripling it ASAP
well you would know more than me i trust your judgement
wings
“what radicalized you” bro EMPATHY
"what radicalized you" well in kindergarten they told me to share things and be nice to people.
contemplating a fantasy setting where people just sort of turn into dragons sometimes, and it does happen and people know about it but it’s not predictable or common enough that anyone thinks it’ll happen to them
you’ve been dating this trans girl for a couple months when she just goes radio silent with no warning. you know enough to be slightly worried by that, so you ask around until you get her address and you go find her
when you get to the apartment, the door isn’t locked. you go in, and the place is trashed. empty pizza boxes everywhere, a collapsed bookshelf, stuff all over the floor, you name it. you’re suddenly a bit more worried she’s been kidnapped or robbed or something than about her mental health
you can hear something that sounds a bit like crying from what you assume is her bedroom. you call her name, and she (it’s definitely her, you know her voice) yelps in surprise. you hurry into the room just in time to see a large dog-sized dragon shove herself under the blankets, and the big bulge in the middle of the bed goes “go away. im a monster. i wouldn’t want to date a dragon either.”
instead of going away, you sit down on the bed and talk to her. it takes you a half hour to convince her to come out so you can see her, and another twenty minutes to be willing to touch you and let you touch her, but eventually she’s curled up in your lap making sad noises as you hold her
dating a dragon is certainly going to be different, but she’s the same girl, she’s just… scaley-er. you have no problem with scaley-er
Pet dragon 🐲 [by Ryoko Kui]
lay prone on your front and close your eyes. if you have headphones, put on ambient noise from your habitat
breathe. breathe in. hold it. breathe out. feel the weight of your wings shift and settle on your back each time it rises and falls. breathe in and stretch your wings upward, then out, then fold them back in as you exhale. repeat this a few times to really shake the dust off your wings
keep breathing. clear your mind. sway your hips from side to side, and notice how the weight of your tail adds momentum to each mighty swish. tilt them forwards and back, and feel how your tail pulls your hips down. curl and uncurl it. try to move it a little bit
nuzzle against your scales. maybe even lick them a bit if you’re feeling particularly fastidious. how do they feel? rough? smooth? warm? cold? if you have feathers, do you feel them? your hide is tough and impenetrable. consider how it envelops your body and keeps you safe
flex your claws. they’re sharp, aren’t they? be careful with them. you don’t want to cut anything by accident. run your tongue over your teeth. those are pretty sharp too. you’re built to hunt. you were designed by millions of years of evolution to catch and eat prey. you’re the perfect predator
focus on what your highly-tuned senses are telling you. what can you hear? what can you smell? how does the environment around you feel on your scales? think about the taste of prey on your tongue? does it make you salivate? are you hungry?
open your eyes. go hunt
My brain is tempting me into writing Resident Evil 9 fanfic but it’s already been so long since I’ve written Soar…
girl very flirtatiously saying “let me slip into something a bit more comfortable~” to you and then taking off her clothes and turning into a dragon
Me, tears streaming down my face, sobbing, as I stare at the stars: it’s just so beautiful
The medieval peasant I went back in time to give a bag of Doritos to, concerned: what terrible and powerful sorcerers they must have in your age, to be able to veil the vault of heaven itself from view, as you say
Me, sniffling: I didn’t realize, I can’t, it’s so much, I, I… are the chips good, at least?
Medieval peasant, trying to make me feel better: they’re… magical, strange traveler
little dragonet writhing around and crying in the middle of the night. her mother takes notice and nuzzles up against her
what’s wrong, little one? the hatchling sniffles a bit
mama, i- i had a nightmare… i couldn’t feel my wings or walk right, i was shaped all weird, i-
the dragoness scoops her daughter into her wings. that must’ve been so scary! you’re so brave for enduring it! it’s ok, though, mama’s here for you now
the dragonet tucks herself into her mother’s chest and purrs a little bit. her mother makes a soft cooing noise. a lot of her hatchlings have these strange phantom memories from unlived lives as humans. she’s not sure why, but she’s happy to comfort them through it
Scritch, scritch. Four fingers hook behind your ear, blunt square nails pressing gently into your hair.
Scritch, scritch. Back and forth, up and down, they rub and knead, a palm caressing your jaw as the affectionate gesture takes up more and more of your attention.
Scritch, scritch. It's been too long since you've been handled like this, shown such care and attention that most simply would not know how to appreciate.
Scritch, scritch. Instinct betrays your muddled thoughts, something like an attempt at a purr or a low rumbled grumble rolls in your throat, and a warm chuckle answers.
"I know, little drake. Doesn't that feel good?"
Scritch, scritch. A tingling heat blooms in your chest as the low, rolling sound moves down your throat, deeper with each gentle stroke.
Scritch, scritch. A finger brushes across a stiff nub, then circles it, and you can't help but lean even further into the warmth and loving contact, even as something - two somethings - press against your skull and then push outward, like branches of heat and solidity; or horns.
Scritch, scritch. Your face shifts, the texture against your skin changes, and you can nuzzle up against the arm of your attendant all the more completely, inch by inch drinking in the sensations of growth and newness. Your eyes have been closed, but tingling heat seeps through them nonetheless as well.
Scritch, scritch. Senses sharpen in languid surges, like tides of information new and yet so easily wrapped around yourself as though this awareness was something you missed, something once denied that was now finally coming back, rather than anything new at all.
Scritch, scritch. You can smell her, and yourself, so immediate and familiar, both brazen notes of gently floral perfume and the hints of something faint and heavy hidden underneath. You can feel her, blunt nails sliding smoothly over soft, fresh scales, like dozens of little disks or diamonds layered into your skin being gently tugged by the motion of her hand. You can hear her, cooing and crooning even as her clothes slide against each other like sheets of softness and her hand rubs the change deeper and deeper into you.
Scritch, scritch. Your eyes twitch open for a moment, and you can see her in all the colors of the universe and then some; the patterns in the skies above and behind her are dreamlike in their wondrous intricacy. A flick of a long, forked tongue brushes against her arm in a lazy, contented reflex, and you can taste her -- and the sheep who gave the wool of her sweater.
Scritch scritch. Heat bleeds into you, seeps through you, settles in your bones and your flesh and your blood and you cannot bring yourself to think of it as anything but a blessing. Even as the scales spread across your every surface. Even as your frame twists and shifts to reflect something found deeper than you dared show the world before. Your tail lashes behind you, first a nub and then a narrow limb and then something long and muscled and sheathed in strength. Your claws flex, hands no longer bare and now capped with blades you reflexively slide against each other, exulting in the sound of their honing.
Scritch, scritch. You fall into your attendant's embrace as the structure of your legs is utterly compromised, tail flexing behind you to keep balance even as the ministrations continue. It's not too hard to stay in contact; your neck is subtly longer than it used to be, your limbs know your balance better than you do. Your body is built to move like this. Your wings flare out before you realize you have them; like arms dressed in soft, pliable scales that twitch at every whispering breeze, itching to catch them and climb. You furl your wings back with a gentle grace, as though you were born to them from the start. They could never be anything other than yours.
Scritch, scritch. You could never be anything other than yourself in this moment. You loose a heavy, heated breath. And relax.
Scritch, scritch.
"Good dragoness. You're absolutely gorgeous like this."
Instead of cursing her to an eternal sleep or death, Maleficent declares that the princess will grow up to betray the kingdom and serve her instead. So the king sends Aurora away, but one day the young adventurous girl strays a bit too far and right into her territory.
And of course Maleficent is like "hey kid do you wanna learn some totally normal magic that is not dark or evil at all"
Dragon gently and lovingly pressing her lips to yours and breathing out, filling you with a flame that does not burn and leaves your core ablaze even after she pulls away…
dragon doing her best to look human at the market because humans tend to act weird around dragons. she isn’t doing a very good job though
she has a loosely put-together shapechanging spell draped over her body and she’s wearing a big cloak over herself to hide all the spell’s imperfections
a vendor offers her a sample of sausage. she bites into it, and it’s so good that her teeth get a little bit too sharp as she digs into it. she buys a pound of it
someone compliments “her” hair and she gets so happy about it that her tail suddenly lashes out and almost trips four people walking behind her
there’s so many smells. her sense of smell isn’t weakened any by the human body, and she’s able to pick up on scents and textures that any real human would miss. she keeps forgetting that humans usually don’t tilt their head back to smell the air and people are starting to look at her weird
she also keeps forgetting that if she orders food in High Draconic that no one can understand anything she says and get very confused how her throat just made those sounds
the sole dragon vendor in the market - in one of the butcher stands in the corner - is looking at her too much and she’s pretty sure he can tell what she’s doing
I’ve always been really enamored with the concept of dragons who shapeshift into human (or humanoid) form, either for interacting with people or blending into society or for any other reason. There’s something about looking at a girl who, for all intents and purposes, appears perfectly human, but knowing that what you are looking at is a dragon, with all the power and poise and myth and ability that implies. There’s also something about her own confidence and knowledge, that even without her wings or horns or tail or scales, she is still a dragon.
Which… probably says a lot about my own feelings on being a dragon.
Somewhat related to this is the thought of being bad at maintaining a human illusion or form. Accidentally letting your tail poke through or revealing an ear or horn when you’re not focusing hard enough. Reacting to things you shouldn’t be able to hear or otherwise sense. Grinning with a mouth of too-sharp teeth when you get worked up about something. Simply being something else to such an extent that pretending to be human is an active challenge. That’s wonderful to me.
