The Tiny Dragon's Writing Archive

Archive for the writings of the tiny dragon. Science fiction, fantasy, horror, and poetry. Avatar/header by me(@the-tiny-dragons-tea-room).

[tiny-dragons-library]

HASRAN TALES

DUE TO CONCERNS WITH AI SCRAPING, THIS STORY HAS BEEN REMOVED AS OF APRIL 6, 2024. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ WHETHER IN PART OR IN WHOLE, THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR HONESTY, YOUR ENJOYMENT, AND YOUR INPUT. FANART WILL REMAIN, AND THIS WILL BE USED AS AN ARCHIVE OF SUCH POSTS.

All characters, races, and planets mentioned, as far as I am aware, are original, and any resemblances between individuals or ideas is purely coincidental (cough). ANY FEEDING OF CHARACTERS INTO CHARACTER.AI OR SIMILAR PROGRAMS, INCLUDING LANGUAGE LEARNING MODELS, GENERATIVE TEXT MODELS, OR OTHER “AI" PROGRAMS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. Proof will be provided of original ownership, and if necessary, discussions for remuneration will be had pursuant to any/all copyright infringements. No AI training, use, or generation based on any of my works is allowed, and individuals caught feeding the machines will be blocked, reported, and issued a DMCA notice. Do not steal, alter, trace, copy, download, or use my art or characters without permission. Do not sell, repost, claim, or redistribute my art, races, worlds, or characters. Participants are not allowed to sell giveaway art or use it for personal or business endeavors.

By participating in giveaways or exchanges, you agree to the above rules, which abide for collaborative works, as well. Thank you for your understanding and your commitment to human art created by humans, for humans.

FANART: 

For all you lovely, crazy people who drew my darling characters whether as gifts, exchanges, or trades.  While I do have my own renditions at the art-room, here I will be showcasing the hard work of others.  Thank you to all! <3

A’den at Work (sisterdragonwithfeathers) (2021)

Doctor Rebecca Brown (ladypepperofdavenshire) (2022)

A’den in Hasran Formal Dress (scarvenartist) (2022)

Portrait of A’den in Hasran Formal Dress with Earrings (jenniferbrincho) (2022)

Artist’s Rendition of Venom Jackal (the-derpy-dragon) [2022]

Sketch of Rebecca and A’den at the Gala (jenniferbrincho) [2022]

]

STORY REMOVED FROM TUMBLR 6 APRIL 2024

[tiny-dragons-library]

Unique

"Out of seven billion people, you won't find another me!" the pop star fumed.

"Oh, thank heavens, I thought you were contagious," Dalur yawned. He waved an elegant hand. "Now, it's been a lovely two weeks, but do avoid letting the door hit you on the way out, won't you?"

She stared at him, jaw slack and eyes bulging. "Don't you know who I am?" The words ended in a shriek.

He slid his cold gaze to her like a knife. "Yes. You're one of several million or billion who think they have 'main character energy' and that somehow, you're more important than everyone else you've met. Really," he continued, rising smoothly from his loveseat, "if that was any sort of true, how would you know you were a main character? Everyone is to themselves. To me," he said, and leaned against the doorframe, "you're just. Unimportant. Another fling. One of a dozen women rich and disconnected enough to think you're somehow worthy of being worshipped like a goddess despite having a personality as shallow as my compact.

"So yes, you're unique." He smiled and reached to curl a finger in a loose lock of her golden hair. A soft noise in the back of her throat widened his expression, and he lowered his hand and leaned back as she drew towards him. "But only as much as wealth, beauty, and status make you. Really, you're as good as the woman who cleans my stairs."

The insolent rage in her eyes flared the moment he took a breath. "How dare--"

He snatched her wrist and spun her to him, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. Poor woman didn't know what to think or do. He smirked, his auburn hair tumbling over his shoulders and around her face as she stammered in mute shock. "Pleasure or pain?" he murmured.

"I--what?"

He bent his lips to her neck. "Pleasure or pain? It's a very simple choice."

"Pleasure," she gasped, "oh, please, pleas--"

His hand struck the back of her neck with a sharp thud, and her expression went blank. He stood and brushed himself off as she fell to the floor.

"Insufferable snob," he spat, his lips curled. The Blood Rose rustled from its hiding place in the tame bushes outside his manor. He sighed and turned away. "Dream venom, please," he said. He returned to his chair as the thorny branches crept through the windows and curled around the pop star's limbs. "She did say she wanted her last moments to be pleasant..."

[the-tiny-dragons-tea-room]

The idea of having a plasma cannon that interpreted its pilot's singing voice and translated its notes into calculated shots was an inspiring stroke of massive genius whose finesse was rapidly undone by a single intern who boarded the ship with a very impressive set of lungs and somehow fired everything all at once by yelling a single, wordless noise very loudly for a length of time hitherto unsurpassed by any save the original pilot's beautiful, classically trained, operatic voice.

The intern was fired shortly after.

[tiny-dragons-library]

Stinky Stew

The chicken is lean,

The fish is fat,

The mushrooms add a savoryness that

When paired with the creaminess of long-cooked rice,

Makes a stew I find terribly nice.

Yet the broth was salty, and Housemate Two,

Said she was rather ill when out of the blue,

From bones and flesh of subpar bird,

A soup I made, and pon my word,

When Housemate One said it stank, too,

I knew I had naught but One to do.

I waited til they were on holiday,

Then dashing down to where bone bowl sat,

Up came the salty chicken stock,

Removed of most fat.

I simmered and cooked about halfway down,

Threw some rice into it with meat,

For what could I say?

There was still flesh of bird (I ate the carrot),

And to the mix added a rare bit

Of smoked fish.

(Not terribly rare; such fare

Was bought on sale but frozen!

For its fattiness and craving it was chosen.)

Into the pit it bubbled and simmered,

Yet too much liquid remained.

Rummage in fridge for what to add,

(A memory of porridge from ages past)

Mushrooms made it in at last!

A final stir, the removal of skin, and I was happy to tuck in.

Yet alas! Alack!

I got off track --

THE STENCH WAS THROUGHOUT THE HOUSE!

Up went the windows, away I went, too,

Remembering beleaguered housemates who

I suspect with less joking than I would like

Said my cooking could put me on strike.

So up with the windows, back to the wash,

And hopefully my work shall put a kibosh

On the remnant scents of salt chicken and fish,

For a bowl I thought was truly delish.

[tiny-dragons-library]

Count Your Blessings

A vampire and his bride get married, but the reception is delayed by two hours because the bride's side didn't know about the unpopular vampire compulsion of counting grains of rice, and at least ten people had tossed some pretty great handfuls of the stuff before either Mr. or Mrs. Nightly could shout out their warnings.

At least the photo album for that day was entertaining!

[tiny-dragons-library]

Love and Sacrifice

"I'd bleed for you."

The statement is a whisper, a drowsy, half-awake thing as softly given as the hand that extends past the prone woman's bed. The curtains at her window stir in the wind as if disturbed by her phrase, the dim light filtering through them barely enough to keep her sparse room a hazy, washed-out black-and-white.

The man kneeling at her side flinches at her words, his expression grim but grip gentle as he wraps his fingers around hers. "I know," he murmurs.

She shifts beneath the starched covers, turning to look at him with wide, dark-circled eyes. "Don't you want me to bleed? To die for you?"

The flash of his raised glance stills her and causes something in her to tremble, though not with the love she thought it would stir. "Anybody can bleed. Anyone can die." His voice softens, sorrow dulling the sharpness of his expression. "What I want you to do," he murmurs, releasing her hand to stroke a knuckle down her wan temple, "is live."

A rebellious surge pulls her lips into a frown, and she withdraws her arm under the sheets. "I don't have much to offer."

His return is clipped. "You have your life. You have talents. Family. Friends. My love, I know you will die and bleed, but do not rush into it for some self-sacrificing pride. Humility--servitude--love. These are good and noble things, and if you encounter what you so earnestly seek on those paths, I suspect by the end of it you will not love then what you desire now."

The words sink into her heart like a dagger, guilt and shame searing like poison into the heated madness of her mind. A thousand words buzz behind her teeth, but she swallows them in a lump. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

A tired, sad smile curves his lips, and he stands only to bend over and kiss her brow. "I know." She leans into his touch, raising her chin to press closer to him, and slowly falls back into the bed. He smooths the covers over her shoulders. "You must keep fighting," he whispers.

"I don't know if I can."

"You must." His tone is soft but stern. "You will see the dawn again."

"Will I?" The bitter question is a barb, but it dies unanswered. A choked sob breaks from the woman's throat, and she shudders and turns away, curling into herself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Don't leave me."

This time it is his voice that cracks, hidden tears trembling in the corner of his eyes. "I won't. Rest now, love."

A soft hum, almost a groan. He bows, backs out of the room, and shuts the door. Another day. Another fight. Loving the mad is a task most would abandon if that devotion was anything other than binding. And he would see her again in the sun, radiant, smiling. His heart bleeds as freely as hers, clearer, hopeful in grief.

Tomorrow, he will see her again.

[the-reblog-squad-deactivated202]

Reblog if you don't use Generative AI to write fanfics/original fics or to create fanart/original art.

[the-tiny-dragons-tea-room]

The Reading Room!:

What is it?:

A hangout for people who like my stuff!

Or who want special previews of things that might be posted elsewhere later.

Okay, got more details?:

It's more focused spot for some of my professional writing career. Less poetry, more novel-based. While the Tea Room is a catch-all for the thoughts of your local tiny dragon, which, as you've noticed, range from the zany to the serious and anything in between, the Reading Room is exclusively for my stories. It's different from the Library in that you've got very few poems or "stage-scene/chat-style" writings, and there is no fan content. The Reading Room is 100% original universes and characters (along with said writing career stuff).

It's not as detailed as Patreon (the Castle), but the Reading Room gets about the same stuff as the free items I'd put over there. (Patrons still get more exclusive work, details, sketches, and even working titles for projects, so if you've ever wondered what TS&TH actually stands for... you'll have to go to the Castle.)

When is new content put there?:

My postings at the Room and the Castle are... sporadic, at best. I like to share. This means it doesn't get that more focused stuff as often because I tend to get overexcited and yammer everywhere. However, sometimes, I want to preview a story idea without it running amok. Hence, the Reading Room. It's like a private version of the Library, where content is much less likely to be taken down due to the increased privacy.

I'd like to be more intentional, but I have very much to work on both professionally, personally, and just for a bit of fun. (all work and no play makes for a crispy, crunchy, toasty, burnt-out Dragon, and nobody wants that.) And frankly, if it isn't fun over here, I'm less likely to do it! No scheduling, we fly like firecrackers!

Who all's in it?:

Frankly, lots of mutuals! And I know a lot of you know each other. Think of it as a place to chill, hang out, read, or maybe even chat with myself or others about my projects, your theories, or any questions you might have on all that stuff. The Reading Room~! has it for you.

(along with exclusive stories. Wondering where the most recent Dalur LaPonte story went? It's up for a rough preview in there! Patrons will probably get the smoother work if I ever get back to it -- I've noticed a couple things that are making my eyes twitch)

How do I get in?:

Ask for an invite! The TL:DR rules are essentially 1. be nice, 2., don't feed the machines (AI) with my stuff, 3., don't steal my stuff, and ... yeah, that's pretty much it! I go into a lot more detail (and some scary-sounding but just plain common-sense stuff about how I'm protecting my art (and I think there's a few more leftover rules back from when I considered making it a public group)), but if you're looking for a calm hideaway (okay, this is still me we're dealing with, so ... calmish interrupted by EXCITED HOLLERING), then there you go!

[the-tiny-dragons-artroom]

Daktlyc don't blush, but the chromatophores on their crests can indicate emotions. Red, for example, is rather amorous.

Humans do not have the ability to hide their emotions by folding them flat against their scalps, though, so Rebecca is always at a disadvantage compared to A'den on this.

Happy Valentine's Day!

[tiny-dragons-library]

Current Active Writing Projects:

Hasran Tales rewrites (draft 1)

Daisy and Elliott (Stardew Valley) short story (TBW, perhaps during/in between HT writing as a downtime/reset break)

POKING MY PROOFREADER WITH A STICK ABOUT TS&TH SIRRRRRRRRR PLEASE T-T I'm glad I don't have a deadline on it and he's doing it for free, but he's admitted he's not much of a reader -- though we did talk about him potentially doing it as an audiobook and giving me feedback later (?!?!?!? HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT only problem is I have like. Ssssix accents used for the characters???? And Heron sound like a gravelly rasp unless he's using a Command, so. RIP.)

[tiny-dragons-library]

Not in a Fight:

A'den, watching Rebecca from the sidelines of the daktlyc division while she works on her data: Hmm. I could easily take her.

Madeline, cocking a brow at him: In a fight?

A'den, smoothing his reddening crest over his scalp: No. As my bride.

Madeline proceeded to give a low whoop and punch him in the arm. He snorted and pretended to jab her with the hatta on his right elbow, which she dodged with a giggle.

A'den: Break the news to her before I do, and I'll find your living quarters, break in, and turn your bed upside down.

Madeline: Oh, joke's on you, Big, Beautiful, and Besotted. I live with her!

A'den, tail twitching, a stifled smile on his face: Then I'll hide your book on daktlyc culture. It's out of date, anyway.

Madeline: HOW --?

[the-tiny-dragons-tea-room]

You're telling me that my farmer showed NO signs of a baby bump, thought her kid's birth date was a long way off, and proceeded to stay up late, passing out from SHEER EXHAUSTION within a week of her son's arrival?! Elliott must have nearly torn his hair out wondering where his dear, sweet nocturnal wife was and probably tried getting her to sleep through all but the most drastic means.

... oh my gosh he had a better idea of his son's birth date than his own WIFE LOL

"Ugh, normally I can munch spicy eel for days with no issues, but lately, I've just been nauseous at the smell of it. Oh, well, must be a stomach bug."

"Why have I been making more clothes and getting more furniture? Just bored, I guess, but I did burst into tears at the sight of the cradle."

"Poor Elliott does so much, but for some reason I was just So on edge that I snapped at the innocent guy! I apologized profusely afterwards."

"Hey, El? Are you sure that void mayonnaise I keep selling is poisonous? I've been wanting to try it on a sandwich with some smoked tuna and pickled mushrooms. What? Don't give me that look! It sounds good!"

"Of course I've been tired lately! We live in a monster hotbed, so if I decide to empty my pockets into the shipping bin, I have to take my sword and fight to get back!"

"Yes, I've been missing my period, but it's never been regular. And it could just be stress. ... Elliott, why do you keep muttering and writing notes on the calendar?"

[the-tiny-dragons-tea-room]

Due to the fact that I got tired of flamboyant men who enjoy their own skin routines, looking fabulous, and being well-dressed being characterized as effeminate, I have decided to revive and revamp Dalur LaPonte, my elven character who

* has a 25-step skincare routine for dry days

* Looks dressed to kill 24/7 whenever possible

* is able to kill whenever possible

* collects artifacts of beauty and surrounds himself with beautiful servants and objects

* has wardrobes for literally every occasion conceivable

* is sometimes questioned as to why he’s as pretty as he is

* can and will throttle anyone who insinuates he isn’t manly or believes his personal habits emasculate him

* collects daggers and hides them on his person just in case

* is the Prettiest Man.  He knows he’s beautiful.  Will preen.

* is much smarter than he looks and can be brutal when sufficiently-annoyed

* is an undisputed Wine Man

* is the Pirate King of the Seven Seas Above and the Two Below

* has efficiently set up the majority of his world’s governments to either funnel him a protection fee or suffer the consequences of both his forces and the rage of various sea monsters

* loves being flattered

* will shower the object of his affection with gifts

* has eyelashes that make most women jealous

* has auburn hair which makes companies weep for envy

* will criticize his enemies’ fashion choices with ruthless efficiency

* though is technically vampiric due to his bond with a Blood Rose, is not, by definition, a vampire

* consequently, is immortal and ageless

* smells like roses

[formerlyluckymanticore]

Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.

[writing-prompt-s]

Studies have shown that humans are terrible at recognizing flirtatious behavior in other humans. We’re even worse at recognizing it in aliens.

[the-tiny-dragons-tea-room]

It would be just my luck that I’d be the only one open to dating an alien, only to miss the cues their head scientist had desperately been trying to give me.

He was a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, and not an air quotes “nice guy”, either - someone who was genuinely kind, and terribly awkward at trying to convey his feelings. It’s just that, unfortunately for A'den, I already had the social observation skills of a brick, and was too flabbergasted by the prospect that one of his kind might actually be interested in me to give my hopes any credence.

Keep reading

[tiny-dragons-library]

Seeds

Smell the loam.

Sweet, potted green, the air electric

Over a little greenhouse of sprouts.

Damp, humid air

Roils in unseen coils,

The lid removed, and

A breath of fresh, of spring into your lungs,

So charged with promise it makes the tongue tingle.

Some grow quick.

Roots like white hairs, but hungry

Intrude upon peat pots, tiny neighboring pockets

Of dirt.

Some die.

Seeds do die, you know.

Old ones may have lost that spark, dried and waiting.

Otherwise hidden opportunists, fungal hijackers

Wait and pounce upon nutrient-rich skins,

On damp soil,

Rotting what should have grown below.

Mold will go where it can.

You must time carefully when to intervene,

Lest the helping hand, unknowing in strength,

Removes an infected casing or dying leaf,

And breaks tender stem, crushes life from what it wished to save,

Or scratches disease from sharp nail to plant.

But, my dear, the growing!

The growing, the waiting, the green.

Cotyledons clasp like prayerful hands,

Opening slowly around folded kerchiefs of true leaves.

Will they survive in peat pots

Smelling of mouse urine

(Not entirely, but enough)

And with the repurposed soil from the garden?

I can only watch and wait.

Remove the dying, the diseased.

Breathe that jungle air

In the house up north.

Soon.

[buginateacup]

Every single fic update there is an author trying frantically to find the right balance between a nonchalant aside of "leave a comment if you enjoyed =)" and clinging desperately to the coat tails of a random stranger, dragging along behind them on the street wailing "Please, please! I have to know what you thought! I'm desperate to talk to people about this! Ask me about the alliterative repetition! Ask me about the symbolism!"

[inyourorbitx]

@the-communist-unicorn peak comment