sick-dragons-word-hoard

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

you fuckin losers on april fools day when my silly ass is a fool all year round even leap years

#im pomni coded #i miss my gf #the little tinkling bells within my empty cranium ring out #and they call upon the entropy to separate and roil and reform #and they dance something new into this universe #as I sing my little song

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

Superstitions, huh? Where do they come from?

Every time a human being peers into the darkness of the forest, something in the back of your head tells you that those dark patches are moving. It's easy to fear what you can't see, it could be anything.

And that's why the vampires that do exist only hunt during the day. No one expects you to have those long slender fangs when you're out at high noon.

A biology that demands excessive sun exposure to prevent tissue breakdown led our foremothers to latch onto those tales of the dark. Simply put a face to the danger and people will run in the opposite direction. Straight to us.

Well, mostly anyway. I wasn't great around humans before the Change and I certainly didn't get better after. Scruffy Maggie with the mismatched sweaters and the sandals with socks. (They're comfortable, sue me).

At least there's a social net for bloodsuckers like me, too. Once a week I went to the local post office, and received a package from the back room full of blood vials.

It wasn't a lot, and I was usually kind of hungry, but it kept me from dusting during my dry spells.

Well maybe it's just the one dry spell if it's never been not dry...

#scrawlings

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

character idea

foley artist but they do all their effects using their own body, also theyre some kinda weird alien robot thing or whatever

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

invented a new type of girl. the "double pussy" girl. like a regular girl but she has two pussys

#she can have any amounyt of penis. average is 1.7

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

Storm showers

Page One - Cracked Stone

The rain was falling down, splashing directly into June’s eyes. She lay back down into the muddy, blood soaked grass and stared over at the tall figure beside her.

They both took in the battlefield silently for a while, then April craned her neck over and snorted. “I don’t think they’ll be a problem for us anymore.” “No more running?” asked June.

“No more running,” the pale dragon agreed quietly, stretching out one of her wings to cover June like a tent in the rain. And then they slept the dead sleep of those truly exhausted.

Page Two - Flowering Fields

After a short day in the market, June had already sold out of potions and salves, and was headed back home with several orders for the coming weeks. Today’s profits were turned largely into food and some necessities for around the house, still mostly unfurnished in the few weeks they had been living there.

The small, still mostly dilapidated shack that they had moved into a bit outside of town wasn’t much, especially compared to the Manor where June grew up in, a towering citadel of manicured lawns, chiseled stone, and vibrant stained glass. But neither was the small dry cave out back anything to compare to the damp dungeons that April had grown up in—a stolen princess from a faraway land, chained since birth. The tradeoff was worth it, June thought to herself.

Her musing was interrupted as she rounded the final bend and saw April sunning herself on the lawn, a gorgeous verdant spread of flowers and wild grasses, blooming in the warm early spring.

Running over to her friend, she dropped her basket and went to say hello. Wrapping her hands around April’s neck, she relaxed with the scent of her, burnt and smoky.

“How was today?” asked the dragon, nosing into her basket slightly.

“You stop that! We can eat later.” June playfully swatted at April’s overly inquisitive snout. “It went really well. People are starting to spread the word that our stuff is the best in town.” “Well I certainly think it should be, with that stuffy alchemical upbringing of yours.”

“Hah! If only they could see me now!”

They fell silent, then, thinking about the dark shapes of the past.

April nudged June to break the spell. “Did you see that one nice young girl, the one that looks a bit like a crow?”

“Mara? She stopped by to grab a couple of tinctures, why?”

April’s massive violet eyes blinked. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed her always showing up when you’re there. She likes you.”

June blinked. “Oh I. Does she? I’m not good at telling that sort of thing.”

April’s paw tapped her head gently. “I told you that you would do fine here. You’re much more likable than you think.” Her head flumped down onto the grass. “Pretty, talented girl like you I’m surprised you haven’t gotten any marriage proposals yet.”

“I imagine that even if someone liked me that much they’d be intimidated by my best friend.” 

April’s grin showed off all her teeth. “Just don’t tell them I only eat plants.”

June scratched April’s head, on the softer skin behind her ears like she liked. “Very scary and intimidating monster you are.” April rumbled quietly at the scratches, butting her head against Juneand making that deep rumbling purr she did when happy. “Well, I know I’m an incomparable treasure beyond compare but I imagine you’ll eventually want someone to lay down with at night, you know.”

“What’s wrong with sleeping with you? You’re warmer than my blankets.”

“Not that kind of laying down, June.”

Time stretched along, as the clouds continued to skate across the sky “I’ve always kind of thought we…” her mouth snapped shut, never intending to vocalize her feelings, especially not this casually.

Her heart pounded as loudly as when the two of them snuck out of the manor. “I always thought um, I haven’t really thought...”

The birds sang in the trees, and the bugs buzzed in the flowers as the silence stretched on for an hour, or a few seconds. June's heart was racing even more, and she let go of the dragon's head, apologizing. "Sorry I didn't mean to make it stran-" was all she got to before the dragon's head pushed her over.

Nudging her with the tip of her snout, April's eyes stared her down. "That's the worst proposal I've ever heard... but I accept." Her long tongue snaked out and licked the side of June's face as she laid there dazed. She continued playfully nudging her prone frame, as June tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. 

She swallowed, nervously. Suddenly unsure in front of the one person she always understood. "When you say you accept do you mean um."

"I accept, as in, yes I'll bed you."

June gulped. April continued, “But not before dinner. What’d you bring me?” as her nose poked back into the basket.

Page Three - Warm Dusk

The kitchen cleaned and their stomachs full, they walked back into the dark cave as normal. June had been sweating nervously all throughout dinner, and April had been almost uncharacteristically quiet, staring at her intently between bites.

A few steps in and April grabbed June, tired of waiting, and carried her all the way back to her nest. She was unceremoniously dropped into the floral soft bed of hay herbs and flowers, with an “oomph”

Breath knocked out of her, she started coughing, hard enough that April paused and apologized. “OH! Sorry! “I’m not as durable as you are, you big lout,” June grimaced. “Ahh, I’m sorry I just got a little caught up in all the um”

“You seem very collected about it all.”

“Only if it helps tease you, my love.” April cooed. June’s coughing started again as her face reddened, enough that April asked “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m… fine.” she managed to choke out, steadying herself. 

April’s “Good.” was punctuated by her smile lighting up with flames in the darkness, as a tiny trickle of flame lit the large candle at the head of the nest.

“You’re still dressed?” She asked, seeing June’s form still laying there a little bit in shock on the bed of leaves. The light from the flames danced around the room, throwing moving shapes on June’s body as she undressed, while April coiled her body around her.

“I know I’ve been naked in front of you a ton of times, but it’s...” June started. “Different” April finished as she moved her head closer. Impetuously, June grabbed April’s head by the horns and pulled their mouths together for a kiss. A little awkward, her lips met the soft scaly lips of the dragon’s much larger maw. 

The faded soot of alchemy blended into the warm cinnamon and spice of fire as they mingled, and April’s tongue flitted out just a bit, enough to fill June’s mouth with her taste.

When they both broke apart they were breathing heavily, and smoke was trickling out of April’s mouth at the edges. “Well now I’m hungry,” the dragon said, before pushing June down with just the force of her tongue. 

She trailed her tongue all the way down her body, until she got to June’s cock. She licked up and down the shaft as June gasped, which turned into moans as her lips wrapped around it. June thrust her hips into the dragon’s maw, enjoying every soft inch of her massive tongue, wrapping around her. In the dim light she saw April’s large, luminously deep eyes staring at her, filled with heat. With a final gasp of “April!,” she climaxed, feeling her seed spill down the dragon’s tongue. Aprils paw squirmed under her back, lifting June with characteristic ease. The dragon wriggled playfully, flipping herself on her side as June got to her knees, kneeling between April’s hind legs. “You seem eager,” the dragon said, gently teasing. June’s voice was husky, her breath warming April’s slit, “I’ve… really wanted this I think.” Her tongue slid along the smooth scales near her entrance, tasting the thin layer of wetness coming from it. Slipping it in, working her open, June explored her warmth. Cinnamon, salt, and smoke filled her mouth, and moaning slightly with arousal she started rubbing the soft flesh with one hand. Her hand started exploring deep inside the dragon, the flesh almost hot enough to burn.

April’s clit started swelling, growing larger than June’s cock, peeking out of its hood. June’s mouth found it, licking the velvety skin softly as the dragon rumbled deep in her stomach with contentment and pleasure. Her whole hand inside the dragon, she curled it up, trying to find a sensitive spot and she was rewarded with a sharp inhalation and fire spilling out of the corner’s of her lover’s mouth.  She pressed in harder, her mouth running up and down her clit as she felt April’s tail pressing her face into the dragon. April’s orgasm was loud, a frantic roar filled with purple and red flames shooting out her mouth and nose, as her body quaked. June’s form was smashed against her stomach by the dragon’s tail as her body shook. Gasping for breath, June separated her face from April’s thigh, body soaked from the waist up and cramping in five different places. The exertion caught up to her and she felt drowsiness overcoming, drifting off to the vision of April cleaning her off with her tongue.

#scrawlings

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

-=On the ocean=-

The Thunder Callers by the sea, the matriarchs of the Hyledh clan

They could pull the tides flat, calm storms and pull thunder from a clear sky, and they were all women

But not everyone had the spark, not the young heirs Beol—who they called boy nor Jana—who they called girl.

Beol was born to the youngest matriarch, and Jana found by her wife in the height of a summer storm. They were inseparable as they grew up.

Beol would be coaxed from studying by Jana and they would go on adventures in the first nearby

And despite neither having the Gift, they were both loved in the clan house and the town.

When they hit adolescence, the sorrow of having no magic began to weigh on them both. The two turned from studies and tree climbing to swordcraft, finding in each other a sparring partner to improve with.

When they came of age and their skin flushed darker red and their horns were sharp, they left for the city together. Beol to study sorcery at the Obsidian Tower, and Jana to find a merchant company to venture into the wastes and fight the creatures that lurked there.

On the way there, though, the roads were impassable and in the stormy weather of night they tumbled both down an embankment and the caravan left them for lost in the wilds.

Their swords were sharp, and their voices raised together as the beasts that dwelled in the forest came.

They don't talk about what happened in the wilds, much. it was weeks before they found their way to the city, half starved but triumphant.

Their swords had dulled by then, but their hearts were ablaze with determination and they set out to find their destinies, separately now.

Two years later, Beol—who was a woman, and Jana—who was a man, returned to the clan in that small village by the wild sea.

Beol had learned much in the Tower, dark and powerful arts. Jana had learned the ways of the sword, unrivalled in any duel.

And they were happy there, sister and brother by the sea. Still inseparable, and neither had the touch that called down thunder from a clear sky.

Jana brought home a husband, an archer he met while hunting, and Beol brought her books to teach the town how to light the dark.

And one day, the matriarchs watched a storm brewing far away, the wrath of an angry and aging god. And they worried about the ocean opening up and swallowing the town whole.

And Beol and Jana were down by the sea as the town evacuated. The sea was still, and pulled back.

As the seabed lay there, bare and exposed to the air, Beol and Jana held hands and they thought about their voices—together to fight the beasts of the forest.

And now their voices were in unison as they pulled the air around them, like a cloak.

The lightning strikes, which had been far away, now circled them in time with their breathing and they called the thunder to them. The clouds and heavens pulling through two souls.

And as they looked out to the sea, eyes full of sky, and they pulled the storm around them.

And Hyledh clan no longer only has matriarchs, not since that day when a boy and a girl knew their shared childhood dream of calling down the thunder and pacifying the ocean.

#scrawlings #originally 12/28/20

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

A spell to cleanse the soul ~

Lemon helps to keep the demons at bay. She has three voices. Her mouth has the weakest one, a pitiful warbling baby bird. It betrays her often. Her second voice is in her fingertips. They're more clever than her brain and spin tales and yarns as she clicks and clacks her keyboard. She can feel her real words through that voice.

The third voice is treacherous. It tries to worm itself out of her skin while she sleeps. It's in her eyes, shifting like a serpent to escape outside into the world. She knows that this is not of her, but it is hers.

The sunlight doesn't seem to have any golden in it, anymore. The atmosphere seems to pull the color out of it, now. She wonders what happened to the sun so far away to make it to tiny and frail.

A knocking at the door ~

It's him, the asshole. “Jill, I-”

But this time, instead of her warbling little cheeps from her mouth, her third voice shouts. It exclaims her punch right into his face, and he moves in slow motion as he collapses.

Her tiny human teeth are holding back her whimpers, and her fingers and trembling, but her third voice feels so good. Her real voice, it whispers inside her head.

#scrawlings #original date 4/21/21

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

writing words like "clovaries" and "clervix" n shit until god sends an angel to kill me

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

clown phrenology but its her dick

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

with that the Wolf tore off the clothes and with one bound was upon her!

“oh no!” screamed Little Red Riding Hood, “a thinly veiled metaphor for unrestrained sexuality! please don’t fuck me– I mean, please don’t eat me!”

the Wolf paused, “is that all I am to you? a cheap psychosexual pastiche?”

“well,”

disgusted: “I’m recontextualised multiple times in this story alone! sure, I’m sex, but I’m also death, I’m maturity, I’m the fear that lurks within, I’m inexorable time, I’m– I’m wearing your grandmother’s clothes for god’s sake! and it’s not just a kink thing!”

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

T posing in front of the mirror to intimidate my mental illness

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

breathe in, breathe out my minds eye is floating, sometimes right within my eyes, sometimes far out, watching my life through a house with no roof past saturn, now I float away and away but at the same time I am still in my chair, I am right here I am alive, and I am me. Facts like animals on the other side of the window at the zoo. They don't apply to the person in my head, even though they exist I love people, another fact etched into the stone walls in the deepest rooms in my mind. But right now I feel nothing because I am someone else, something else. I am still in my chair, but "I" am not "I", so the real me, is maybe not in the chair? But where is she, I wonder. Is she trapped in that cage in my head like an animal on display, or does she go to sleep sometimes? Perhaps she simply doesn't exist at the moment, a waveform that was removed from the cacophony but will come back when the right instruments fire. every thought is dripping with indecision, and every word is riddled with doubt I know, distantly, what is real and what is not; my head tells me that this is a dream. Maybe when the real me comes back she will think that it's cool that I turn into someone or something else. Maybe she will simply accept it as a fact of her|my insanity. I hope she feels okay

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

woke up like that? no i think that one day you just look in the mirror and you realize that your soul is 6 inches to the left of your body, that your skeleton is turning to dust. You wake every morning and the horror of it all in the cold uncaring sunlight makes you forget about worrying about how your body has changed. sometimes it feels like the only thing I have is pain, but I always want to turn that pain into something beautiful. Beautiful things bring a different kind of pain--there is nothing soothing about beauty. It tears me apart on the inside. A million timelines splitting out like fingers of lightning into the futures and pasts that never will and never have existed. sometimes the present feels like a brick wall. You push and push and nothing moves and yet one day you're sick or your joints hurt. One day you remember how long it's been since you talked to that friend, that family member. Time is a brick wall that never stops moving. It's solid concrete that's smashing our noses into it and we can't stop it. Sometimes it feels like the only thing I can do is reach out my hand so I can feel that someone else out there too is in pain. That someone else understands what it's like to be trapped in the razor's instant between future and past. Is that bad of me, to want someone else to feel the same anguish as me because if someone else feels it then I'm not alone. There is happiness, and I know it exists in the world. I have felt it in the past. But right now, the solid steel plating of the present makes it seem impossibly far. I can claw all I want but to do so is to blunt and bleed the talons of your imagination. The past no longer exists, and you'll never truly be able to see the future. You're a bug in amber and the amber is moving. And so maybe I make art because when I see something beautiful it hurts. I'm envious, I'm scorned, I'm burnt and lonely and starving and in pain. And then I do it again. I view beauty and I try to make it too. There is no right or wrong, is there. If you seek out pain does it stop being pain? I take the ship of theseus and in a petty rage I burn it to ash at the bottom of the sea. And I watch the sunset and it's every color that I wish my soul was and it hurts and I will do it again tomorrow.

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

apple trees

my shark girlfriend shed her beautiful soft skin for the winter and made me a hoodie out of it and all the local girls and crows ask me where i got something so soft and delicate but i shall not tell them about my gorgeous shark girlfriend because me and her like to play games where we hide the truth from mortals

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

we all know this classic way

[sick-dragons-word-hoard]

Ghost Ship

A spaceship on auto pilot with no crew It arrives at its destination scarred with damage, meteor impacts that broke through the hull. Not enough that the ship couldn't be repaired, but it had been enough to disable life support and drain the air. There wasn't supposed to be anyone on board, but a stowaway perished. Even after the repairs were done and their freeze dried body (scared the heck out of a technician who found it) was removed, a presence lingered; trying to escape a bad situation, sneaking on the ship, only to perish painfully when no one was there to notice or hear. Maybe she thinks to cause trouble, to rage at the crew when they DO get on board, but she sees one of the crew mates place a candle¹ by the cargo bay door for the unknown passenger. She resolved that perhaps she did find a better place. And while it's not while she was alive, she could watch over the people on board who felt sorrow at her passing; a sign of grace she had hitherto never experienced. You have to be superstitious in space. The void is deep and omnipresent. While old earth religions found new purchase among the stars, ghost stories and arcane rituals too were born. The ship had fewer accidents than normal, as she faded from a wandering spirit into a guiding have which soaked into the metals of the ship itself. They even gave her a name, different than when she was alive but that fit her new existence. There was a worn spot on the wall by the cargo bay where crew would rest their hands and give small thanks or acknowledgement to Aurora, another muse within a tiny metal speck between the stars.

#1 - Being on a spaceship it was of course not a regular candle but a CO2 scrubbing candle #scrawlings