hornedfreak:

Him big

I don’t know the colors I’ll go with yet, and his design/s will 100% change along the way, but

He likes alcohol and food and GLORIOUS BATTLES and protecting small things and jewelry

And will probably be the person to laugh at your joke even though you thought it was really dumb and unfunny

the-knights-who-say-book:

When the sorcerer found the dragon, it was attacking a grape.

This was only possible because the dragon was not much larger than a grape itself, but she still had to do a double take to be sure the object it was fighting with such animosity was in fact inanimate.

She crouched so that her eyes were level with the top of the table and squinted at it. The dragon sank its tiny fangs into the grape’s skin and gave a great tug, succeeding only in throwing it and the grape into a backwards tumble. The tiny green reptile rolled to a stop with its whole body wrapped around the grape and shook its head ferociously, managing to pull its teeth out but also launching the grape across the table. It gave a mighty roar of anger (about as loud as a human clearing their throat) and stalked after it, tail swishing dangerously.

“Do you need help?” she offered.

The dragon froze mid-prowl and whipped its head around to look at her, looking so offended she almost apologized for asking.

“I mean, I could peel it for you, if that’s the problem.” She wasn’t sure it was getting the message. One could never tell how much human language these little creatures picked up by hanging around the magic labs. Some understood only such essentials as “scat!” or “oh fuck, that sure did just explode”, while others could hold entire conversations — if they deigned to interact.

This one looked like it was deciding whether she was worthy. Finally, it sniffed daintily and flicked its tail, scales clacking together. “Little monster is my prey, and you can’t have it. Found it first. Will devour it!”

“Oh, sure,” she agreed. “But you know it’s a grape, right?”

This was the wrong thing to say. It glared at her and then bounded away to the other end of the table, where it slithered up to the grape and pounced on it.

Grape and dragon promptly rolled off the edge of the table.

The sorcerer quickly went around to that side, alarmed that it would be stepped on. The labs were bustling with shoppers stopping by to watch demonstrations this time of day, and a small dragon wouldn’t be easily visible on the blue and green tiled floor.

“Horrible! Dirty!” The tiny dragon was screeching at the top of its lungs, holding onto its prey for dear life. It would have been hard to hear anyway, with all the noise of the labs, but with the sorcerer’s diminished hearing it took several seconds to locate the screaming creature.

She scanned the pattern of the tiles for it and sighed. “Oh, hold on, we mopped this morning.” She cupped her hands around it and deposited it into her skirt pocket, an indignity the dragon endured only with more screaming.

“An outrage! Put me down!”

“Shh,” she advised. Lab workers were strongly discouraged from bringing creatures into the back rooms, which was where she was heading, picking her way through the crowded front lab.

“Fuck pockets!” her pocket responded.

“Oh, you can curse. Wonderful.”

The dragon seemed to take this as an actual compliment. “Am multitalented. Can also compose poetry.”

“Really? Can I hear some?”

“No. For dragon ears only.” It sounded viciously pleased to hold this over her head. The bulge in her pocket rearranged itself, and she thought it might be trying to gnaw on the grape.

She felt herself smiling even as she tried to squash her mouth into a straight line. She liked this little bad-tempered thing, even though its spiky feet were digging into her thigh.

In the much quieter kitchen of the back rooms behind the lab, she transferred the wriggling, scaly handful from her pocket to the table. The dragon hissed out a few more insults as it got up and straightened itself out, but its jaw fell open when it finally took in its surroundings. She’d set it down next to the fruit bowl.

“There you go. Food mountain.”

The dragon’s shock didn’t last long. Abandoning the grape, it scraped and scrabbled its way up the side of the bowl and from there onto an apple, its claws leaving tiny puncture marks as it hiked to the top of the arrangement. “Food mountain!” It repeated, its gleeful crowing much clearer and almost sing-song without having to compete with the noise of the crowd.

She watched it turn in a circle, surveying the feast. “But… cannot eat it all,” it observed after a while, crestfallen. “Human-sized. Big shame.”

“Don’t you have nest-mates who can help you with it?” she asked. She had assumed not, from the way it had apparently been foraging for food on its own, but she needed to be sure she’d found a loner.

“No nest. No mates. No nest-mates. You’re rude.” It flopped down ungracefully, wings spread out flat on the apple like it was trying to hug the entire much-larger fruit.

She gave it a moment to be dramatic, and then offered it the grape, minus the peel. “You seem to have a good grasp on human-speak.”

It grabbed the grape without so much as a thank you. “Yes. Have composed poetry in both Dragonese and Humanese. Not for humans to hear, though.” Bragging cheered it up a little.

“You mentioned. I can’t hear very well, anyway.” She pulled up a stool and sat down. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a helper.”

“An assistant,” it said, apparently showing off its Humanese. “An attendant. An aid.”

She watched it bury its snout in the grape, juice dribbling down onto the apple it sat on. “Yes. A hearing aid. How would you feel about having a job?”

It smiled craftily. “Would feel positively, if job comes with chocolate chips.”

“It could,” she said, grinning. She had some friends who employed bird-sized dragons as messengers, but this was the first time she’d heard of one negotiating its salary for itself. “It certainly could. What’s your name?”

“Peep,” said Peep. “It is self-explanatory.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

Peep expressed its doubt that humans ever got anything, but she thought the tiny, prickly creature might be warming up to her.

aethersea:

navigatorsnorth:

aethersea:

navigatorsnorth:

aethersea:

notsomolly:

the-knights-who-say-book:

annleckie:

indigobluerose:

aleyma:

Fabergé, Chick, 1899-1908 (source).

I NEVER KNEW ANY OF THEM HATCHED

Peep peep peep peep

can someone write a children’s book about a magic jeweler who makes fabergé eggs and then takes care of the chicks that hatch because this is adorable

what if that is how dragons started? some really high-powered magic combined with a massively talented craftsperson and they actually created dragons eggs? And like, depending on what kind of gemstone they were carved out of would determine the dragon’s abilities. Diamonds give you ice dragons. Their scales are prized for armor because of how strong and light they are. The only problem is actually killing one to get their scales because of how strong they are. Sapphires would be water dragons with webbed wings, hands and feet for swimming. Sunning themselves on beaches. They breathe steam rather than fire. Emerald would be forest dragons, with eyes the color of fresh fruit and scales that look like leaves.

@navigatorsnorth rock dragons, what do you think?

What do I think? I think you’ve caught me in a storyteller’s mood is what I think.

Optical calcite can be brittle and difficult to properly work with, but the rewards
are great. Small, frosted dragons of Iceland spar become the favoured
companions of kings. It is said that the double refraction makes it easy for
them to detect falsehood.

People laugh at the first artisan to turn a terracotta dragon,
but what is clay but just another mineral? Hardy and fireproof, the ceramic
dragons curl to life in kilns. They find their way into foundries and kitchens,
warm, always warm.

The best surgeons find themselves adopted by lithe obsidian
familiars with careful slicing claws knapped sharper than the finest scalpel.
Services stay the same, but the rates change. A fee for the surgeon, sparkling
trinkets for the familiar’s hoard.

Glossy granite monoliths guard the finest banks, their
flanks polished by the brush of passing hands. For luck. For wealth. Entrust
your savings to us the banners read. No vaults are safer.

Tiny malachite dragons perch watchfully over the cradles of
children. Their mottled gaze provides protection against the evil eye more
potent than any ancient amulet wrought by the Greeks.

nav are you kidding me these are magical please feel free to write more dragons whenever you need a creative outlet

Off the back of this, please feel free to send me rock/mineral suggestions for dragons.  l already have hematite, sandstone and quartz lined up, as well as a couple of random obscure ones.

guys guys do it nav knows ALL the rocks nav is a professional geologist

life-of-a-teenaged-freak:

stepchildofthesun:

weretaire:

baby dragons that sleep in your fireplace and roll about in the soot and the ash trying to get comfortable on burning logs, screeching loudly whenever people walk by or when more logs need to be added to its roost and not stopping until content again

baby dragons with wings that are disproportionate to their bodies until older but nonetheless stubbornly trying to pick themselves up off the ground by running and aggressively flapping and managing to only get a few feet off the ground for a few seconds before crash landing

baby dragons that haven’t been exposed to priceless things such as gems and gold pieces and instead infatuate themselves with other unusual shiny things — like silverware, brass clocks, instruments, and pots and pans

baby dragons who get cold in the winter and crawl up into their caretaker’s clothing (almost always while said clothing is being worn) and curl up as tight as possible and begin to make sounds similar to content purring as they sleep

baby dragons making whiny hungry bird noises until they’re fed

baby dragons being afraid of the family cat for a while until after a few days the cat wanders up to the sleeping pile of scales and fire and curling around them for a nap in the sunshine

baby dragons stealing the shiny car keys and chewing on them

baby dragons gently nibbling on the jewelry of their favorite people- and not so gently with people they don’t like

baby dragons blowing tiny puffs of smoke out their noses when they snore

baby dragons using the cat’s scratching post

baby dragons wearing tiny saddles with knight-in-shining-armour action figures riding on their backs

baby dragons roasting mini marshmallows mid-air when you toss them before eating them

baby dragons hiding on top of bookshelves and cabinets when they don’t want to go to the vet