#meet cute? no. meet DRAGON

[luxaofhesperides]

Could i request a ghostlight where danny can turn into a dragon, it could be though a curse or just training from queen dora?

Like dragon Danny seeing the yellow signal outfit and thinking "mmmmm gold, shiny, must take".

He should probably be more worried about being cursed.

Scratch that, he should definitely be more worried about being cursed. However, it wasn’t done intentionally or in bad faith. This is just the consequences of him, Sam, and Tucker fucking around and finding out when left unsupervised with the grimoire of a long dead witch.

In their defense, they didn’t know Tucker could use magic. This revelation both upset Tucker, who refused to be swayed from tech, and Sam, who thought she was a better fit for magic considering how goth she is. Danny hadn’t really cared, since he was too busy being turned into a dragon. At least it isn’t like with Dora’s necklace; Danny is still himself, can think clearly, and isn’t overcome by rage. 

He’s just… Danny. But as a dragon.

“Well, you do something to fix him then!” Tucker shouts, waving a hand in the air angrily, “Since you want to be so good at magic, you do it then!”

“I would if I could! But you’re the one who gets to use magic, so figure it out and turn Danny back!” Sam shouts back, getting in Tucker’s face with a fierce scowl.

Danny sighs, shifting uncomfortably. His room is not big enough for a dragon, and his back is starting to cramp up. He looks longingly out the window to the clear skies that call to him, and wonders when his friends will stop fighting. 

They keep shouting, so he doubts they’ll be able to focus on actually helping him for at least another hour.

The only silver lining about the situation is that Jazz and his parents are gone, taking the weekend to visit a few colleges so Jazz can decide which one she wants to go to. Though he’s been cursed into dragon form and his friends are yelling about it, at least his family can’t make it any worse with their attempts to ‘fix’ things. 

There’s a lull in the yelling, Sam and Tucker both turning their attention back to the grimoire. Danny shifts his wings, tail flicking slightly, and leans his head closer. He wishes he could help figure this out, but he can’t talk in this form, and any attempt at charades will destroy his room. 

His friends look focused, at least. So maybe they’ve decided to focus on finding solutions instead of fighting. 

“Here,” Sam says, shoving the grimoire over to Tucker roughly. “Try that.”

Tucker reads over the spell, then scoffs and pushes the grimoire back. “That’s not going to fix anything. Didn’t you read it? It clearly says truth is the greatest revenge, revealing one’s true form force it into light. It’s talking about making people who are secretly cruel turn ugly or something like that! It’s not going to do anything for Danny!”

“It says one’s true form and Danny’s is a human! That would work!”

And they go right back to arguing.

Danny sighs, turning to stare out the window again.

In any other circumstance, being a dragon would be so fun. He has wings! He’s big and has claws and can probably breathe fire! And it’s not making him act on animal instincts or anything! If he could just be outside…

He glances at Sam and Tucker again. 

Maybe he can go outside, enjoy the curse a bit before they figure out a way to undo it. Spend some time flying around with wings. 

All the curse did was turn him into a dragon. It just changed his form. If he still has his ghost powers, if the curse didn’t change his nature from halfa to dragon…

Carefully, Danny focuses on his tail and tries to make it intangible. There’s a strange sensation of ice running down his spine, then it goes into his tail. In the next second, his tail drops through the floor, and Danny bites down a grin. 

He is so out of here. 

He gives Sam and Tucker another glance; they’ve got their heads bent over the grimoire, paying no attention to him. 

Perfect.

Danny goes fully intangible and sinks through the floor of his bedroom, then maneuvers his way outside the house. As soon as he’s out, standing beneath the sunlight and able to stretch out his new body, Danny pulls his power back and takes a few careful steps on the grass, testing his balance. His wings shift on his back, and he stretches them out, feeling the way his new limbs move.

Everything feels natural, as if he’s always been a dragon.

Taking a deep breath, Danny spreads his wings out and takes off running. A few hard pumps of his wings gets him into the air, and he can’t help but let out a joyful roar. 

Distantly, he hears Tucker and Sam yelling again, but he’s too happy to be free of that room to care. Let them argue. He wants to have fun.

Staying in Amity Park is a no go; Val might go after him, thinking he’s a threat, and ghosts could pop out at any time to cause problems. He might as well take this chance to fly around wherever he wants. Chicago wouldn’t be too hard to reach with how fast he’s flying, but he’s been there before and doesn’t want to stay in Illinois. 

What other big city is nearby that he can fly to?

New York?

Or, better yet, Gotham. 

It’s definitely a bad idea, but if any city is able to handle a dragon appearing without warning, it would be Gotham. Plus, he might get to see some of the heroes in action! Sure, it’s the middle of the day, but surely a dragon is a good enough reason for Batman to show up before the sun sets. 

Mind made up, Danny flies up into the clouds and heads towards Gotham, following the roads out of Amity Park. 

The flight is quick. It takes barely over an hour to see the dark figures of Gotham’s tallest buildings, fog surrounding the city like something out of a horror movie. The sun glints off the ocean behind the city for a rare, cloudless day. He’s heard stories about Gotham’s weather, how dreary it is, the occasional acid rain, the gloominess of it all. As bad as his luck is, it seems that the sunny day is trying to give him something good to even it out after being cursed into a dragon.

Excited, Danny angles himself down, diving out of the lower clouds and shifts his wings to catch on a wind current that smoothly sends him towards the city.

Just to be careful, he goes invisible as he gets closer, staying out of sight once he enters the city proper. 

Noise overwhelms him immediately, cars honking and voices yelling, the occasional gunshot and sound of something breaking. It makes Danny wince, disoriented enough to make him falter as he flies above the streets.

Amity Park is quiet and peaceful in comparison, so much so that he hadn’t realized just how enhanced his senses had become in a dragon’s form. 

The sounds of everything are so much, and all the movement of such a big city is dizzying. At least he can’t smell anything but salt from the sea; if he had to deal with the constant smell of blood, guts, and sewage, he would find a way to fully die to get away from it.

He slows down to a smooth glide, weaving his way between buildings as he takes in the city. Even with the sun out, it’s gloomy, the tall buildings casting shadows across the streets, a mix of art deco and gothic architecture filling up the space. He wonders if he should find some place up high he can rest, maybe bathe in the sun for a bit until he felt like moving again. If he managed to fall asleep, that might give Sam and Tucker enough time to figure out how to undo the curse.

“Ow! Shit, that hurts.”

Or he indulge in his curiosity and check up on whoever just cursed loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of Gotham.

It takes a minute of searching before Danny’s eyes zero in on a bright flash of yellow moving across rooftops. 

All other colors seem dull in comparison, and Danny has just enough time to think, Oh, there’s the dragon instincts taking over, before he’s flying after it, unable to focus on anything else.

Every time the yellow leaps out of the shadows, it’s as if it glows. As if Danny’s chasing sunlight. 

He gets close, but loses the yellow every so often with how he has to maneuver around buildings, putting his new flying abilities to the test in an effort to keep up.

Then the yellow comes to an abrupt stop. Danny can’t stop in time and flies past it, tilting his body and spreading out his wides as far as he can to make a tight turn. 

“I’m fine, just bruised up, but I feel like I’m being followed,” the yellow says to no one. There’s a pause, and then the yellow says, “I don’t see anything, is the thing.”

If the yellow has anything more to say, it doesn’t get the chance to do more than open its mouth before Danny’s crashing into it, tackling it to the ground. 

He’s elated as they roll across the roof, the living sunlight caught safe in his arms. He holds it close to his chest, protecting it until they come to a stop, dropping his invisibility as a low rumble builds in the back of his throat. The dragon brain has thoroughly taken over, and it takes far too long to wrestle control back from it.

Once he’s able to think more clearly, Danny looks down at the poor guy he’s caught and realizes, hey that’s a hero!

And then he realizes, that’s a hero. I fucked up.

He tries to say sorry, but all that comes out is a low chuff. The hero, who he can recognize as the Signal because who else wears mostly yellow in Gotham, leans back as much as he can, trapped in Danny’s grasp.

“Hey, dragon,” Signal says nervously. “I’m really hoping you didn’t catch me because you were looking for a snack.”

Danny huffs, bumping his head against Signal’s chest. He hopes he doesn’t come across as aggressive, because all he wants to do is laze around with a hero, his dragon brain happy to keep hold of its yellow sunshine.

He’s not going to let go of Signal, though. He intends to make the most of this moment while he can.

“Okay. You seem friendly? That’s good I guess.” Signal sighs, then tries to wiggle out of Danny’s grip. Danny doesn’t budge until Signal gasps and curls into himself, clearly in pain.

Worried, Danny lets go of him and tries to see what’s wrong, his snout poking against the Signal’s ribs.

The Signal hisses out a breath, trying to push Danny away. “Stop, don’t do that. Man, I hope my ribs aren’t broken. That would suck.”

That would suck. Rib injuries are the worst, and the bruises always seem to stay longer on ribs than anywhere else, in Danny’s experience. He would love to offer the Signal some ice, but as a dragon, he’s not sure how to use that particular power. He settles instead for backing off and making himself small, offering an apologetic rumble.

“Thanks,” Signal smiles, gingerly uncurling from where he’s hunched over, an arm crossing his stomach, protecting it. “I guess you’re friendly, then?”

Danny nods.

“...And you can understand me?”

Danny nods harder, a high pitched growl slipping out of his mouth. 

“That’s so cool. What are you doing here in Gotham?”

It’s not a yes or no question, so Danny’s stuck on how to answer when words are so far out of reach. He shrugs, wings shifting against his back, then carefully bumps his head against the Signal’s helmet. 

“Yeah, that was a bad question. Do you need help?”

Danny scrunches up his nose as he thinks. He is cursed, but so far, being a dragon isn’t all that bad. It sucks that he can’t talk, but everything else is cool! He just doesn’t want to be a dragon forever. But it’s nothing the Signal can help with, so Danny just shrugs again.

The Signal tilts his head. “Alright. I guess I’ll get going then, and you can chill up here.”

The low growl comes suddenly, without him even thinking, and Danny wraps himself around the hero again. Distantly, he thinks that he should stop, that this is technically holding the Signal in place against his will, but the much louder, dragon part of him is deeply upset by the thought of the Signal leaving while he’s injured. Danny can protect him, so there’s no need for him to go anywhere! In fact, he’s only safe as long as he’s with Danny!

He leans more of his weight onto the Signal until they both fall back onto the roof, pinning the hero in place. 

Danny tries to be gentle, but the impact still makes Signal groan, tensing up in pain.

Sorry, he tries to say, the words coming out in a low chuffing noise. He draws his tail up to curl around the Signal so he’s completely surrounded by Danny, kept safe from anything that would try to attack him. 

Letting out a breath, the Signal lightly knocks his head against Danny’s neck, the helmet barely felt through Danny’s scales. “Alright, Oracle, can you send someone to my location? I’m a bit stuck.”

It’s hard to hear, but Danny manages to make out a voice saying, “Black Bat is heading there now. What’s wrong?”

“I’m a bit stuck.”

“Injured?”

“Just my ribs, but that’s not really the problem. There’s a dragon who’s very determined to keep me on this roof.”

“A dragon,” the voice repeats. 

“Yeah. It seems to like me? But it’s also not letting me leave. So. I’m stuck.”

There’s a pause, then a soft burst of static before the voice says, “I’m going to send a message to everyone else just in case they’re able to provide any back up. I’m sure Tim is looking for an excuse to ditch Bruce at that accounting meeting.”

“Guess I’ll just wait to be rescued, then,” Signal says, sighing. Then he tilts his head up to look at Danny. “Is there some way you could talk to me? To pass the time. Maybe morse code? Do you know what that is?”

Dragon brain makes him stupid, apparently, because Danny does know morse code. He didn’t even think of alternative ways of communication once he discovered talking was impossible with his new vocal chords. 

It’s probably not even dragon brain. It’s just Danny brain that makes him like this.

Embarrassed, Danny drops his head onto the roof, drawing his tail closer to himself so it can cover his eyes, his best attempt at hiding his face. Then, with one sharp claw, he taps out Y.E.S.

“Oh! So, what’s up?”

N.O.T. D.RA.G.O.N. H.U.M.A.N. G.O.T. C.U.R.S.E.D.

“Why did you say you didn’t need help if you got cursed?!”

Danny wants to say it was an accident, but has no confidence that he can spell ‘accident’ correctly, so he goes with F.R.I.E.N.D. M.A.D.E. M.I.S.T.A.K.E.

“And can they fix it?”

I.D.K. T.H.E.Y. W.E.R.E. F.I.G.H.T.I.N.G. Danny huffs out a breath, flicking his tail in annoyance as he uncurls slightly, giving Signal some more breathing space. He doesn’t look as stressed out anymore, which is nice, but he still holds his ribs tenderly, careful not to move too much. G.O.T. B.O.R.E.D. L.E.F.T.

The Signal taps his own fingers against the roof, thinking after he takes in Danny’s words. “Do you think we can call them and see if they know how to fix it? I doubt you want to be a dragon forever.”

N.O. P.H.O.N.E.

“It’s cool, we can use mine.” And he pulls out a cell phone from… somewhere. Danny has no idea where. It’s like he blinked, and a phone suddenly appeared. His hero suit probably has a lot of hidden compartments and pockets to hold as much stuff as possible, but it’s so well designed that Danny can’t begin to think of where he’d put anything. Especially when his dragon brain keeps getting distracted by how nice the yellow is.

Danny taps out Tucker’s number when Signal asks for it, watching as the call connects and is put on speaker.

“Hello?” Tucker’s voice says, hesitant and a little distracted.

“Hi,” Signal responds with a mischievous smile, “Do you happen to be missing a dragon? Cause I’ve got one here who’s hoping he can get a little help from a friend.”

Danny hears something clatter on Tucker’s end, then Tucker starts yelling for Sam. He’s not quite able to bite back his laughter, entire body shaking with it. The Signal keeps his composure better, but he does share a glance with Danny that has him biting his lip, trying to keep his smile from growing.

“Where is he?!” Tucker demands, and for a moment Danny feels ashamed of how much stress he’s putting his best friends through. And then he remembers them fighting nonstop while ignoring him and doesn’t feel bad at all.

“Gotham.”

“...Gotham,” Sam repeats. Her voice is flat in the way it always gets before she verbally (and sometimes physically) tears someone apart. Danny winces hard enough that it jostles the Signal, making him glance back at Danny.

“Yeah. Gotham. He said he was cursed?”

Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not my fault. It is Tucker’s fault, though.”

“I think I found the solution though! And also, it was an accident. You were the one who wanted to read the grimoire.”

He can tell they’re gearing up for another fight, so Danny lowers his face closer to the phone and lets loose a dark growl. It shuts them right up, and he briefly wonders about learning how to growl like that as a human, since it’s so effective.

Tucker clears his throat, and continues as if nothing happened. “Anyways. The cure. The thing that will make Danny stop being cursed.”

There’s another long pause.

“The cure…?” Signal prompts.

“Kisses.”

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s kisses.”

“Like… true love’s kiss?”

Danny hopes it’s not true love’s kiss. If it is, he’s never going to be human again. Who would his true love even be? As much as he liked Valerie, that ships sailed long ago. And he loves Sam and Tucker, but not quite like that. 

“No. Thankfully,” Sam says. “Just kisses. What matters is the amount, not the person it’s from. So whoever you are, we’re gonna need you to be giving Danny as many kisses as possible until he’s human again. We’re also on our way to Gotham now. Johnny’s offered us a ride.”

On cue, an engine revs loudly. 

“We’ll be there soon!” Tucker shouts over the engine, and the call ends just a second later. 

Danny huffs, shaking his head lightly.

“Interesting friends you got there,” Signal comments idly.

Y.E.S. Danny taps out. L.O.V.E. T.H.E.M.

The Signal sits up and moves away from Danny, who has to stomp down the urge to curl around the hero tighter to keep him in place. He stands up, putting his phone away, and looks over Danny. His gaze feels like a physical weight, moving from his face, and the horns on his head, to the scales covering him, to his wings and tail.

His tails flicks back and forth nervously. Danny can’t get it to stop.

“Dragon,” someone new says, startling Danny. He spots the newcomer immediately, a lithe figure in all black perched on the ledge of the roof. Her voice is rough and he can’t see her face at all, fully covered as it is in her mask.

This must be Black Bat. He doesn’t know much about her; no one does, with how she’s managed to avoid being photographed and how rarely she is seen by anyone at all. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was real or not, but here she is.

“Hey,” Signal greets easily, “We need to kiss him better.” 

Black Bat tilts her head. “Kiss… dragon?”

“He’s cursed. And kisses will fix him. Not true love’s kiss, but just a lot of kisses.”

“True love’s kiss?” she repeats.

“Oh, shit. I guess you haven’t read any fairy tales?” Black Bat shakes her head, and Danny wonders how she’s managed to avoid all fairy tales for so long. They’re usually among the first stories children are exposed to. “Yeah, in a lot of those stories, a curse can only be broken from a kiss by someone by love.”

Black Bat nods slowly, and it’s clear she doesn’t really understand, but she does hop off the ledge and walk over to Danny. She pulls up her mask to reveal her mouth, then looks to the Signal for guidance.

“Like this,” Signal says, then leans over and presses a soft kiss to Danny’s cheek.

If he were human, Danny would be blushing madly. As it is, he has to force himself to stay still and not hide his face in his hands, claws and all, from how flustered he is.

Black Bat follows in suit, dropping a delicate kiss to the top of his head. 

Danny loses track of how many kisses he gets, all over his face, beyond flustered by the amount of affection two heroes are showering him in. It’s just to break the curse, but it’s still a lot of kisses! 

Signal kisses the tip of his nose, and there’s a flash of light. Danny feels himself change, growing smaller, his human softness returning to him. It’s barely a few seconds, and then Danny’s human again, sitting on the roof with the Signal and Black Bat standing over him.

They blink at each other for a long moment, then Black Bat smiles and pats the top of his head. 

Danny smiles. He knows his cheeks are red, can feel how hot they are himself, and ducks his head, too embarrassed to look at either of them.

“How are you feeling?” Signal asks, crouching down to be eye level with Danny.

He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a hoarse rasp. He winces and brings a hand up to his throat, then shrugs and gives the Signal a thumbs up.

He clears his throat. This time, he manages to whisper, “Thank you.”

Black Bat gives him a cheerful wave, then hops back onto the ledge and jumps off. Signal barely takes his eyes off Danny enough to give her a nod goodbye. He reaches out and brushes Danny’s hair off his forehead some before his fingers trail down the side of his face. 

“I’ll admit, you looked cool as a dragon,” Signal says, “But you’re much cuter like this.”

Danny gives in and hides his face in his hands. The Signal laughs, warm and bright, and kisses his forehead. 

“Come on, let’s make sure your friends can find you.”

“They’re going to be so annoying about this,” Danny mutters.

“It’s how friends show affection.”

“Seriously, though, thank you. I know being tackled by a dragon isn’t what anyone expects. Did I hurt you? Your ribs…”

The Signal shrugs. “Nah. I’m all good. Just a little bruised, but it’ll heal quickly enough. Though, you’re more than welcome to give me a kiss to help me feel better.”

Danny shoves him lightly for the teasing, but he does pull the Signal back for a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It’s only fair, after all.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ

also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!

[the-music-maniac]

I'm amused at how confused some people are at the idea of Puss being shipped with Death when Shrek is a series of movies that had a DONKEY canonically get together with a freaking DRAGON

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Oh my gosh, the book is now officially out! This is the first original novel I've published since 2018 and I am very excited and very nervous to share it.

☕♥️🐉

➡️ You can read it here. ⬅️

Chapters drop Wednesdays and Saturdays, and if you're worried, the story is already finished and fully uploaded. This is not a WIP that I will abandon later--it's totally complete.

About the book:

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life. The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance. And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

Beautiful cover art by @seancefemme

[nemurian]

@bigboobyhalo Your sacrifices have been accepted by the great Dapper. I'm so sorry but I don't think you'll be getting them back anytime soon. Or ever.

[vehemourn]

minecraft wolf

[rainyraisin]

@cupcakeslushie 's Sep!au is super cool!!! And I literally adore Three with all my soul he is so freaking amazing!!! So what did I do?

Comic.

(Words underneath each panel, I gen forgot my handwriting is awful, apologies!)

"Donnie, you have to stop hanging out with the purple dragons."

"Why? We're frien-"

"No, you're not! They're using you!"

"What would they have to use?! Come on, April!"

"You're searching for something that isn't even there just to get mad at me!"

"No, *you* come on!"

"I care about you, Dee. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"No, you only pretend to care cause one tries to!"

"Look, I get it. You hate me, and... I hate you too. We don't have to be anything more than that."

---

I had to cut it down a bit to make sure it was only ten panels but I hope you still like it!!! I tried to keep it as true to the characters as possible. I really wanted to include Three's hallucinations in there somewhere but with the limited amount of panels I didn't get the chance. I hope to draw something related to that in the future!

I dont remember if this has been stated or if this was a hc but I honestly feel like even though Three is grateful to be apart of a family, given his faint memories of Draxum actually giving a crap about him prior to being affected with emperium, he'd be afraid that they don't actually care and they're going to rip it all away from him. Also I remember it being said that Three kinda tests the boundaries of their patience to see if that's going to happen? So that plus the purple dragons ask kinda culminated in this! Along with the idea that part of the reason Donnie doesn't get along with April is because since she argues back, she must hate him, so if she hates him then why shouldn't he hate her back? He doesn't see that she's trying to have a (platonic) relationship with him. Also I feel like he totally distances himself from her so what happened to Tim doesn't happen to her cause he knows his brothers care about her and they're already doing enough for him, he can't be even more of a burden to them. (This is all hcs ofc!!)

Also completely unrelated but hc that Three had paint all over his hand and touched the back of his mask but didn't realise and had that stain on there for months until somebody pointed it out to him-

[aurosoulart]

apparently someone influential posted my Figmin XR work on linkedin because I hadn’t checked my messages in awhile and had SO many Big Tech people trying to schedule talks with me

this is wild

[todayisafridaynight]

hear me out on this one

[sipsteainanxiety]

you found him by accident, curled up inside the head of a tulip.

the forest near your cottage had a vast variety of flora that you liked to catalogue in your free time. flowers with velvet petals that glowed when the moon was waning. red vines that grew longer when they felt eyes on them. trees that seemed to have a sort of sentience to them when they thought they were alone.

there were just so many different plants out there with properties you could only dream of. you spent countless evenings wandering through shrubs and overgrowth, a small journal in hand that you opened whenever you found a new specimen to document. it was a lovely way to pass the time, and you made use of your findings to aid in developing new medicines or salves for you to use.

today in particular, you walked in a direction you had not before and found yourself standing in a small field surrounded by trees. you breathed in deeply, relishing in the fresh air that swirled calmly around you. the sky was tinged with the gradient of dusk, burnt oranges and nebular purples easing into each other as though from a single painter's stroke.

you spotted a patch of flowers to your left and headed over to it to see if any of them were new to you. there was a mix of cerulean-colored flowers with petals shaped like stars and sunshine tulips that waved gently with the summer breeze. you crouched down, one of your hands reaching out to gently caress the vibrant green of a tulip's leaf.

you opened up your journal and started jotting down descriptors for the cerulean flowers, pondering in your head what to call them. their color clashed with the bright yellow of the tulips in a way that you found interesting. it meant they both thrived in similar conditions. it didn't look like one was out competing the other either. that was good.

you scribbled away for a moment, then looked back up to inspect the cerulean flowers. and that's when you noticed a small splotch of red—stark against the vivid green of the leaf it was on. you blinked and squinted your eyes at it before learning forward to swipe your finger across it. it smeared onto your index finger and you brought it up closer to your face to inspect quizzically.

it... it almost looked like... blood?

you looked back at the flower leaf you had found the splotch on and noticed there were more small splashes of crimson scattered along the leaves and stems of a few flowers. they seemed to lead in a certain direction, so you followed the trail of blood with your eyes until you noticed a larger splash on the leaf of a tulip. the yellow of the tulip's petals had some smears of ruby red on the outside—from what you could see, it was the only flower with blood on its petals... especially as smears. you shuffled closer to that particular tulip and peered at it curiously, your breath soon hitching in your throat.

there was a fairy curled up inside the head of the tulip.

he was in a small ball, using the petals to shield him from the outside. but what really caught your attention was the crimson that stained his clothes to an almost deep burgundy. it made you lift a hand to your mouth, your eyes darting all over his small form so you could take note of his injuries that you could see. one of his wings—an iridescent thing that shimmered even in the remnants of the sunset—was torn diagonally across its center. you couldn't make out how severely he was hurt, but he looked bad.

you couldn't just leave him like this. even from your height, you could see his ash-blond hair sticking to his color-drained face that was scrunched up in pain. you abruptly shut your journal and tucked it in your pants pocket. then carefully—so, so carefully—you plucked the tulip the fairy was in. you were cautious, gentle, as you rose to your feet, your hands cradling the tulip head so as to not jostle the fairy around too much.

you were quick as you made your way back to your cottage, your steps carefully calculated to avoid tripping over anything. your eyes lingered constantly on the fairy in your hands, checking to see if his small chest was still moving. it was, but just barely. you bit at the inside of your cheek. could you even do much with the state he was in? you didn't know. but still, you had to try.

you practically barged through your cottage door, shifting the tulip head to one hand so you could clear a section of your table stacked with jars of pastes and salves. you grabbed a piece of soft cloth from a drawer in your little kitchen and folded it a few times before setting it down on your wooden table. then you looked down at the tulip.

fuck, how were you going to get him onto the table?

you didn't want to move him too much, but you didn't really have a choice, it seemed. you started plucking some of the petals, letting them fall onto the table so you could make an opening. then, as you willed your hands to stay as still as possible, you slid your fingers underneath the fairy's body.

he really was quite small. you'd have to guess he was around five inches or so, though being curled in a ball made him look even smaller. he made a rough noise once you'd gotten your fingers under him and you immediately froze. he settled down after a small moment, and you let out a breath of air before you carefully moved him so that he was on top of the cloth you'd set out.

from then on, you were in healer mode.

you grabbed a nearby lantern so you could see what you were doing, allowing the flickering tangerine light to cast itself warmly across the table. then, you bustled around your cottage, hands snatching up items ranging from cotton balls to jars of ointment and a needle with thread. you had a pair of tweezers somewhere in your room that you snatched up as well as some bandages and a small knife to cut them into smaller pieces.

you set everything onto the table, then grabbed some more pieces of spare cloth and a bowl of warm water. you pulled over a chair and sat down, the fairy resting in front of you with all your materials surrounding him.

he had moved from his curled up position, thankfully, and was now stretched on his back. even in his sleep he was in pain, you noticed, eyeing his scrunched up brows.

you had to be nimble as you cut down the center of his dark green shirt to reveal his wounds. there was a deep gash along his abdomen that was still bleeding. he also had a smaller one below his collarbone. you soaked a cotton ball in some of the water and used the tweezers to press it gently to his stomach. you hoped he hadn't punctured anything significant.

you had to replace the cotton ball multiple times before the gashes stopped bleeding. you wiped away the rest of the blood from his upper body, then grabbed one of the salve jars so you could open it and smear some of its contents across his wounds. the salve had healing properties—hopefully it would help prevent infection so you could start to stitch him up.

after that, you wiped your fingers and started prodding gently at his legs. he had some pouches and what looked like a small sword attached around his waist. you fumbled slightly as you removed them and set them to the side. then you murmured a small apology as you pulled off his pants to see if he had any injuries on his legs.

there was another gash across his right thigh. when you pulled off his boots, his left ankle also looked tender. you wondered what had happened to him to make him get this messed up. you stopped the bleeding on his thigh and wiped down his legs before you applied more of the salve. you did your best to wrap his ankle in bandages. it wasn't your best work, but well, his foot was fucking tiny.

glancing at his blood-soaked pants, you grimaced. there was no way he was going to wear that. you could probably wash them and hope that he woke up after you slipped them back on.

the salve needed a few more minutes before it would get absorbed into his body, so you stood up and grabbed his pants so you could toss it in another bowl of warm water and soap. maybe you could make him another set of clothes. you had the sewing materials, after all. you'd have to take rough measurements, though.

you returned back to the table, noting that his face had relaxed slightly from its pained grimace from before. you carefully pressed your index finger to his forehead to check the temperature—he was a bit hot. that wasn't good, but it was expected.

you ripped up a smaller piece of cloth and soaked it in some cold water before you placed it on his head. then you got to work with stitching his deeper wounds.

it was tough work, using your smallest needle to sow him together. you kept pausing and glancing up at his face to see if he would wake up, but he was out cold. you felt like you were a child, playing operation on a doll. except, what you were dealing with was very much alive and was currently depending on you—albeit unknowingly—to stay alive. the thought made you swallow heavily and focus harder on stitching.

after what felt like ages, you cut the thread and tied it off, your hand wiping across your forehead to get rid of the perspiration there. he hadn't needed many stitches—really, only his thigh and abdomen required them. you opened another jar and smeared another paste across his wounds before you completely wrapped him up in bandages. then you eyed his wing.

he'd been somewhat laying on it all this time. you weren't really sure what to do for it. it wasn't bleeding, but it did look painful. you settled on gently pushing him onto his side and dabbing a salve over the tear before you slapped a bandage patch on both sides of it. that would have to do for now.

you moved him onto his back once more and covered him with a piece of cloth large enough to act as a blanket. you stretched your arms out as you glanced out one of your cottage windows. it was dark outside—how long had you been working? the tips of your fingers hurt from all the stitching and careful motions you had to do. you flexed your fingers and looked back at the fairy.

his face had smoothed down into a somewhat peaceful look. you let out a sigh of relief and slid the now-warm piece of cloth off his head. he had blood on his cheeks and neck—you'd been hesitant to wipe it away, but now you could since you were finished taking care of him.

you grabbed a piece of cotton and soaked it with water. then you started softly wiping it along his face and a bit through his hair. his face scrunched up again. you were trying your best not to move too roughly to wake him up, but he still stirred. you froze, breaths bated, as his eyes squeezed shut before he started slowly blinking them open.

the first thing you noticed was the color of his eyes—crimson like the very blood he’d been soaked in. they were hazy as he squinted up at the ceiling, but they sharpened surprisingly quickly once he realized he was no longer hiding in a flower. and once they swiveled around to land on you, you saw them shrink into tiny pinpricks.

a beat passed where all he did was stare at you.

then he lunged towards your hand—that had been hovering by his face with the cotton ball pinched between your fingers—and promptly sunk his teeth into your thumb.

“yeowch!” you yelped as you dropped the cotton ball and snapped your hand back, shaking it slightly as though that could get rid of the sting you felt. his teeth were fucking sharp, what the fuck. you grimaced at the beads of blood that welled up from the tiny pricks on your thumb before you looked back at the fairy.

he'd taken your momentary distraction to stumble to his feet, teeth bared in a snarl, and lunge for his tiny sword. it had been drawn and was pointed at you, the blade gleaming at you in the flickering light from the lantern. it... wasn't much larger than a needle, but you still raised your hands up in surrender.

"whoa! hey!" you kept your voice low and soothing. it was obvious he was wary and maybe slightly panicked as his eyes darted about to take stock of his situation. they landed on you and his snarl seemed to deepen. "be careful! you're really hurt."

"you!" the fairy growled at you, his voice surprisingly raspy. he swayed a little on his feet, but seemed to cement himself. you eyed him cautiously. "you're the hag who lives in the shitty hut in the forest."

hag?! why this little— "i'm gonna pretend that you didn't just say that," you said cooly, lowering your hands slightly. you were not going to throw this little fucker across the room, you weren't. "you know who i am?"

"'course," he spat out, the glare on his face unwavering. there was still a smudge of blood on his cheek that you hadn't been able to clean before he'd woken up. "everyone in the damn forest knows who y'are with how y'keep stompin' about."

"i don't stomp." you frowned, your lower lip jutting out a bit in a small pout. "if you're so knowledgeable on who i am, then you know i'm not gonna harm you." his lips twitched at your words, but he didn't say anything. you continued, "relax. i found you in a flower and brought you back to my home to stitch you up." you gestured one of your fingers up and down his body.

it was then that he seemed to register the bandages that were on his torso. he looked down at himself, his free hand running along his stomach, before he realized he had no pants on. his face turned red as he snapped his head back up to snarl at you. "you—!!"

"i didn't do anything, your clothes were just very bloody!" you rushed out, heat crawling up your neck. "i'm sorry i had to cut open your shirt. your pants are in that bowl soaking." you pointed over to the other bowl you'd put it in that rested on the other side of the table. "i could probably... make you some new ones..."

the fairy's jaw tensed for a moment, his grip tightening on his sword. he was holding himself a bit awkwardly, but seemed to hide his pain well, especially with his tender ankle. though, you still noticed the way his face was a bit pale, sweat lingering on his forehead. he shoved his sword back in its scabbard and struggled to suppress his limping as he walked over to the makeshift bed you'd made for him.

he snatched up one of the pieces of cloth to wrap around his body. you watched him curiously. his hands trembled minutely. "what are you doing?"

"'m leavin'," he snapped at you, shooting you a glare that dared you to protest. the hair on his head practically bristled with his irate mood.

"right," you replied dryly. "and how do you expect to get anywhere in your condition? you'll reopen your stitches if you haven't already. and with your ankle and wing being busted you've got no chance of getting very far at this time of night."

he frowned at you as though considering your logic and looked over at a window to see the deep darkness that consumed the outside. he scowled at it, then looked at himself once more and the blood-soaked cotton balls that surrounded him. you waited patiently as he seemed to think, his wings moving slightly—shakily. then he scoffed loudly, aggressively ruffled the spiky hair on his head, and plopped himself down on the cloth-bed. an admission—albeit reluctant.

"fuck you," he grumbled. you tried not to roll your eyes. this fairy was so rude—were all of them like this? you hoped not.

"wonderful. nice to know you have a brain in that small head of yours." he shot daggers at you at your words, but you paid him no attention and started collecting all the garbage on the table. you got up to toss everything in the trash and moved all the medicinal supplies to the side to use later on. the fairy watched your every move, his gaze sharp as though trying to catch you doing something bad.

you grabbed some bread to put on a napkin and set it somewhere next to him. he eyed it like it had just stabbed him in the gut.

"you need to eat something," you told him as you pushed the bread closer. "and you need to rest. i'll have to keep checking your wounds to make sure they're healing properly."

he only gave you the stink eye and made no move to rip off some bread. this time you actually did roll your eyes. he could be stubborn all he wanted, but he'd have to give in eventually.

you sighed quietly and moved away from the table. you were too tired to deal with this right now. your back ached from being hunched over him as you'd tended to his wounds. "i'm going to bed. please remember that i'm here to help you—it's my job. if you need anything, just ask." he didn't say anything else, only glared as you walked away to get ready for the night.

within the safety of your room, away from his burning gaze, your shoulders slumped. you didn't know he was going to be so... be so prickly, but you supposed it was expected. whatever. you didn't regret taking care of him—it was only the right thing to do. you grumbled to yourself as you got ready for bed, avoiding the kitchen area of your cottage to give the fairy some alone time and privacy.

you slid into bed and tugged the covers up to your shoulders. still, you did not sleep. you only stared up at the ceiling, the light from the kitchen lantern glowing through the cracks in your bedroom door. you couldn't hear anything apart from the occasional hoot of an owl from outside and the crickets that chirped just under your window. you blinked tiredly. the light went out after a few moments.

you sighed and rolled over as you closed your eyes, wondering if he would stay or if you would wake up to an empty house once again.

[shatouto]

[adobedragon]

As the dragonrider reaches for more stone, Keith speaks. “Keith. I’m Keith.” His voice cracks, hoarse from disuse.

S’hiro’s gray eyes, they are the gray of storm clouds, flick to Keith and he smiles. “Good to meet you, Keith.” How old is he? Keith wonders. Maybe twenty, twenty-one Turns? An odd sensation, the warmth of recognition flames up in his gut, and Keith looks away, eyes on the dragons.

A bronze and a brown, the brown large, nearly the size of the bronze. “Which one is yours?” says Keith.

S’hiro’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment then he works out Keith’s meaning. “The bronze. That’s Kuroth.”

Keith studies the great beast, wondering what it is like to soar high above the land on dragonback, a deep longing joining the warmth he feels toward S’hiro. The dragon turns his long triangular head, jeweled eyes whirling in hues of blue as they meet Keith’s gaze.

S’hiro chuckles. “He likes you.”

“He does?” Keith winces at the boyish awe in his voice, amazed that the magnificent creature likes him and also fascinated by this confirmation that dragons speak to their riders without words.

“So does Canth,” says the other rider.

Keith jumps, startled, feeling the eyes of all, dragonriders and miner folk on him. Especially the other dragonrider, who is studying Keith closely.

“Where were you born, boy?” says the other rider.

Keith bristles at “boy,” but answers. “Keroon. I think. My parents are dead.”

S’hiro, however is looking at the other rider, a question in his eyes. “A Candidate, F’nor?” he says flatly.

“Aye,” agrees the other rider, dropping a stone with a clatter into Dale’s basket. “You ever been to Benden Weyr?” He addresses the question to Keith.

Keith shakes his head, feeling a strange shift in the conversation’s undercurrent. “Candidate? For what?” He asks although he knows the answer but can’t believe it.

[tepid-judas]

Learning to draw dragons for the sake of fanart is doing some kind of healing for my inner teen. They're like, "we can finally draw dragons? AND not feel cringe about it?? Hell yeah!"

Very satisfying. 10/10 would recommend drawing dragons for yourself and/or your inner child/teen

An extra aside: when I was working at a donut shop earlier this year, this adult person came in who clearly had a learning disability of some kind which caused a higher level of communication difficulties. They were so excited when they saw my necklace (it has a dragon on it). They told me that they wanted to give me a dragon, so they did. They "handed" me the dragon (empty palms), saying its name is Aurora, and that it can change colors.

Best moment while working there for sure. The only good kind of cash register interaction I'll accept from now on /lh

[sonikkuruzu]

@gokutober day 16! Today's prompt is "Sons" so I drew Goku with Gohan & Goten

Prompts here - https://gokutober.tumblr.com/post/729317335347888128/gokutober-2023-prompts-are-here

[booksandpaperss]

I love rewatching the first time Amaya and Janai meet when they're trying to kill each other knowing they're future wives lmaoo

[milliardpeacecraft]

Redoing this because I forgot to add someone...