#*i left work immediately when i heard my partner was injured and hu- whats that he got his life entirely around?*

[mmmthornton]

i'm so upset the one thing I TRULY want to rant about with someone who's played DE is my theory on how Jean is the emotional lynchpin to the final thesis on interpersonal relationships and my friend freaking locked himself out of even ACCIDENTALLY observing ANY of it and goes "Oh, i got the impression he and Harry barely knew each other" I'm gonna shit.

[twelvemonkeyswere]

for the meme, yuck and also dancing dragons????

Hey Bots 💖!!!! Thank you for asking about these!! :D 

yuck

oh dear. well, this one’s called “yuck” because that’s the feeling I had while planning it skdjskdj. it’s a 9.5k outline (with snippets and an added spreadsheet) for my “what if JB had met before the handchop in court and there wasn’t a war AU”, which is also my “Rhaegar lives but Jaime still kills Aerys AU.” It began as a sort of exercise in curiosity because I was interested in the question of “would JB pay attention to each other if they did not meet in the excrutiatng circumstances they met”, and how that would come about. It spiraled into me creating a whole AU to make it work skdskdj. It includes many self-indulgent things like JB meeting first at a ball for Jon’s birthday (he’s legit, but Lyanna’s still dead), JB working together to defeat a boar while in a hunting party, Brienne looking for the royal kennels and finding out Jaime is already there and is friends with the dogs, Brienne’s dad getting injured and Jaime stepping up to help, wet shirts, etc etc. The idea was for them to first butt heads as usual but slowly warming up to the other. I left it when it threatened to eat me alive a la Audrey II. It’s also one of the first times I was trying to write JB so I’d likely change many things now, but I’m still fond of some of the moments there.

Dancing Dragons

(thank you for asking about this one because this is another I really want to pull off!!!!! 💖💖💖)

This one started because I was thinking about the “feeding maidens to the dragon” trope, and how maybe that is a rule people have misunderstood for generations because humans have short lifespans while dragons could potentially live for millenia, so our scales (heh) for measuring time and our memories about events would be very different.

So in this story there’s a village that has been living since forever at the bottom of a mountain, and suddenly one day the mountain starts to tremble, and they hear roars coming from the mountain, and they realize there’s a dragon there. it had been so long since anyone had seen a dragon they thought it was all stories, so they turn to their annals, where their ancient wisdom is preserved. and it says the only thing worse than a dragon is a roaring dragon, because it heralds the coming of more dragons, and the only way to qualm them is to give them food. so it’s either everyone piching in (which they can’t, because winter is about to come) or feeding the dragon... people. But it has to be a maiden, and even then it might not work. so they select maidens, and they pull straws to decide who gets to be thrown into the hole. I wanted the story to focus on Hay, who is around 16 or so and she gets selected. the whole village is about to fight at the last minute because not everyone is okay with this idea, but others are scared their own daughters will get chosen. so Hay decides enough is enough, and that she will walk up the mountain herself, and figure out what the hell is happening if no one else is.

it turns out when she gets there, the dragon is nesting. she is moving rocks around and digging because she is preparing for a possible egg (like a turtle, she was also born in that mountain, and returns periodically to it), and she’s been roaring because dragons are very scarce, and she needs to try and find a mate, which is more diffcult with each passing century. Hay hears the dragon’s stories about the other maidens she had seen arrive to the hole. Her favorite story, though, is about how dragons court each other. It’s all about dancing. They swing and soar together in the air, not unlike macaws who mirror each other when they fly, and when the dragons finally connect, it is the most beautiful dance anyone could witness. Sadly, the dragon has never been able to actually see or participate in one, because she hasn’t been able to find another dragon in a long, long time. In the end I wanted the story to be about loneliness and the nature of stories themselves, and finding friendship and companionship in life, especially when a partner may never come.

There’s a bit after the read more in case you’re interested!

Come ask me stuff about my WIPs if you want!

Step by step she attempted the descent. She held with hands and toes to rocks and ledges. As she went along, the darkness receded, and once she thought she’d never see the end, her heart pounded faster in her neck as she distinguished the creature.

The dragon was so massive Hay couldn't make out its real shape until she got to the bottom. The sleek, long body twisted around and onto itself, like a curled up snake. The scales glittered, even in the poor lighting, and the wings held tight to the body. It was dark red, and when it didn't move it looked like the rocks surrounding it. 

Hay watched from behind one of those rocks, agape. 

From time to time, spasms jittered the dragon’s body, and the growls became stronger and harsher. It would soon scream again. Hay wondered if it would deafen her or kill her instantly. She realized she was hoping, instead of wondering, and felt sorry for herself an instant before the sound came.

The walls grumbled.  Rocks and dirt fell from where the dragon growled, and then again as it pushed the debris to the side. Hay caught a glimpse of the face at last. Yellow eyes, long snout, vapor coming from the nostrils, and the bared teeth. The creature attacked the wall with renewed force, and it growled and scratched until another piece of rock fell to the ground. The dragon stopped, heaving through its warm body. Hay could feel the heat even from her hideout.

“Ha!” the dragon let go, twirling its mouth in a smile. Hay blinked rapidly. “Take that!”

Its voice was strong and powerful, full of smugness and satisfaction. 

“Bloody stupid thing,” it murmured, pushing the rock to one side and making room among the dirt. 

The dragon was carving.

“What the fuck,” Hay heard herself say. 

The dragon’s face shot up from its work, twisted in a snarl. A batch of steam rose from its open jaws. 

Hay covered her mouth with a hand, but the dragon was already advancing. The horrible, reptilian irises of its eyes widening and slinting as it searched among the dirt and residue.

Hay sank behind the rock, crouching with her face to the wall and willing herself to disappear into the ground. Rage shot through her then. She had come here to die and save her village, had she not? Yes, one part of her brain said. But how would the dragon know what she had come to die for?

She wasn’t able to dispute with herself this point as a puff of air resounded over her head. There was a sharp breath intake, and then another, and then another. Hay’s knees and hands were shaking nonstop, as the dragon followed the smell. The movement stopped, and Hay glanced up slowly.

The dragon’s eye was fixed on her, peeking from over the rock. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t get the sound through her chest.

“A human?” the dragon whispered. “What the--I’ll be--”

The dragon pushed the rock aside with its snout. Hay quickly turned around to face it, but found herself pushing her back against the rock wall.

“Hu-man,” the dragon said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “Can-you-un-derst-and-me?”

Hay didn’t reply, awestruck.

“Damn,” the dragon continued, looking up at the edge. “How long did I sleep? Did you forget how to talk, hu-man?”

Hay kept gaping like a fish.

“Of course you wouldn’t know if you did,” the dragon shook its head. “What will I ever do with you.”

The dragon’s intonation was hard to follow, as the long snout moved in funny ways as it made an effort to form sounds. But they were human sounds.

Hay saw as the dragon tried to shift all its weight again to examine the cavity it had been making, and she stepped forward before she could think more about what she was about to do.

“Please have mercy!” she blurted. The dragon stopped, looking over the place its wings began. “Please have mercy of my town!”

The dragon furrowed its brow--or at least that’s what it looked like in the long, scaled face. 

“Your town?”

“I’m a maiden!” Hay continued, throwing herself on her knees and extending her hands. “I’m not married, and I’ve never been with-with child.” She wasn’t sure why she was mentioning this, but the elders had thought it was important. “Please take me, but don’t take my people!”

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for death. She hoped it was quick, and as painless as possible. Maybe the neck would snap immediately, and she wouldn’t have to feel the heat inside the dragon’s belly. 

Minutes passed in silence. She peeked an eye open. The dragon simply watched her, a combination of pity and awkwardness in the pitfire of its stare.

Hay coughed. “You’re not--you’re not going to eat me?” 

The dragon blinked. Its eyelids were transparent and parted sideways, like a cat’s.

“No?”