#how ro train your dragon fic

[copperpipes]

Danny's two dragon forms from the amazing DPxHTTYD fic on ao3 that I'd like to take custody of and continue! (well that's how I imagine him)

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Squish

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Things may be better, but Roman still struggles occaisonally. Remus is happy to help him out.

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| Ao3 |

Written for: This Prompt

Warnings: Some self dep, mainly Roman thinking badly about himself again. overstimulation. vague reference to past self harm.

Pairings: Creativitwins, Roceit

Word Count: 1481

Notes:

Hello!!

Darkside Roman fic!

Thank you to Oatmeal for the prompt here on my Tumblr (feel free to leave a request yourself!), I did write this on my train ride - I just forgot to post it yesterday, haha.

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Roman stood before his mirror. The floor length one, in his room, with ornate golden carvings around the frame. The mirror itself looked like something that belonged in a king’s chamber in a palace, not Roman’s bedroom. His room may be ornate, his red canopy bed was beautiful, with a carved wooden headboard and translucent red drapes. His desk was mahogany, also elegantly carved and looked like something straight out of a vicotorian drawing room, his plush red rug created a nice centrepiece to his room and his closet was full to bursting with clothes he would probably never actually get to wear, bis room was ornate, but it wasn’t fit for him.

A beautiful, elegant room, fit for a prince. Roman didn’t feel like he belonged there.

His tail had been the last thing to come through, he was pretty sure, and now it swayed behind him, brushing over the ground repeatedly in a way that irritated him to no end. He thought he should be used to it by now, after his week spent in the imagination. Which he didn’t remember most of, but Janus had reassured him that nothing bad had happened, he hadn’t hurt anyone – he, apparently, had actually been kind of cute. And he’d somehow gotten Virgil to join them for movie nights, too, he wondered how exactly he’d done that with his dragon brain.

Dark wings spread behind him, the bloody red of the scaley skin making him cringe away from his own reflection. Red was his colour, the colour of passion and love, romance. Red was also the colour of anger, of fire burning brightly, hurt, pain, distruction. When he was a Prince, the red meant love, a bright spirit, now…

His wings twitch and Roman reaches around himself to – what, try to get them off? He’d already tried that more than enough and all it did was hurt, there was no point, he was stuck like this now. His tail started to thrash behind him without his permission, he hated how out of control it was, he couldn’t stand how it moved when he was irritated or upset – it made it practically impossible to hide what he was feeling and the way it dragged against the hardrood floor of his room made him want to scream-

“Roro!?” His bedroom door slammed open, making his wings flare out in surprise. He whipped around to face his brother in the doorway, forgetting once more about his tail and only remembering when it slammed into the mirror, sending it crashing to the floor in shards. The golden carved frame was ruined, the mirror itself now only showing a fragmented reflection. Roman stared at it in shock, wondering if this reflection was more accurate.

“Oooh- that’s not good,” Remus said, “Sorry Ro – did I scare ya?”

“No- no, it’s- it’s fine I was just…” Roman trailed off, looking back at the mirror, “Focused.” He settles on.

“What? On admiring yourself?” Remus giggled, coming over, “Janny wanted me to come get you, you’re missing dinner.”

“I am?” Roman asked, looking at his twin with a frown, he thought dinner was still a few hours away.

“What’s going on in that silly head of yours, Ro?” Remus knocked on his skull like it was a door, and Roman winced away, batting halfheartedly at his hands, he hadn’t noticed Remus come over, “Oh c’mon, I can basically see your thoughts crowding up in there.”

“Just- leave it, it doesn’t matter,” Roman tried to wave him off, “I’ll be down for dinner soon.”

“Oh no, nope, absolutely not,” Remus said, shaking Roman lightly by the shoulder, “You only say crap like that when something’s really wrong, now what’s got my lil’ bro so upset?”

“Remus-“ Roman huffed, he was going for a warning tone, trying to get his brother to back off, though he was pretty sure it sounded a lot more pathetic than he was intending, “Just-“

“Nope, get, now, sit down, go on,” Remus practically shoved him back towards his bed and Roman’s tail curled around his feet as he was pushed to sit down as he continued to weakly protest. Once he was down, Romus practically threw himself on top of him, putting all of his weight on him. Roman hated to admit that it did help, even if he had to shuffle around so he wasn’t squashing his wings.

“There, better?” Remus asked, already knowing that ‘being squished’ as Remus called it, tended to help quite a lot, Roman nodded weakly, “Now, what’s the shit bothering you?”

“My stupid- stupid brain,” He huffed, looking up at the canopy of his bed, “I feel like- like all this stuff – it’s not -it’s not mine – it’s like I don’t- I don’t feel like I- I deserve it-“

“Deserve it?” Remus says, “Why the fuck wouldn’t you deserve it?”

“I don’t – because, because I’m hideous – because all I do is cause pain? I just- I hurt Patton and Logan, I hurt Virgil – I definitely hurt you, and I probably hurt Jan and I just-“

Repetitive, insistent tapping on his cheek drew him back out of the spiral he was descending into, Remus was frowning at him.

“Tell your brain to fuck off, Ro,” Remus said, bapping him on the forehead, “You’re cool as fuck, you haven’t hurt Janny or Virgin, you haven’t hurt the others nearly as much as they fucked you up, and yeah, being isolated from you hurt like a fucking soap bath but that wasn’t your fault-“

“I know that but – but this-“ he pulls at one of his wings again and Remus slaps his hand away.

“Is really fucking cool,” he finishes Roman’s sentence, “Literally, you can fly – and you can set shit on fire, how is that not cool as fuck?”

“And I’ve told you that- that doesn’t matter – it’s – it’s – dragons are evil,” Roman said, dragging his hand over his face, his claws leaving the lightest marks on his own skin, “They’re meant to hurt people destroy things, hoard gold, I don’t want to be a greedy, prideful, nasty creature.”

“Yeah, and we’ve told you every time you say this that you’re not any of that shit,” Remus said, pulling Roman’s hand away from his face so he doesn’t hurt himself any more. Roman whined, before coughing smoke right into Remus’ face and immediately panicking.

“Mm!” Remus said, “Thanks Roro,”

“What?”

“The smoke?”

“Yeah uh – why are you thanking me?”

“Cause’ it smells good?” Remus tilted his head, “Like free perfume.”

Roman can’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him. He should’ve known that Remus would enjoy smelling of smoke. Of course, something like that wouldm’t have upset him, he was Remus for goodness sake.

“Y’know Janny would say something poetic about how dragons were strong and awesome again if he heard this, right?” Remus poked him in the side and Roman batted his hands away again.

“Yeah yeah – I know – it’s getting better though, I swear.”

Remus hummed, flopping down properly on top of him, “These spirals not happening so often?” He asked.

“No – it’s just – sometimes it all starts to bother me – it’s like –“

“You’re feeling loads of things all at once and you feel like you’re whole body is gonna explode?” Remus suggests, “Like there are ants crawling all over your skin and you can’t get ‘em off?”

“Yeah- um- something like that,” Roman nodded.

“Is the squishing helping?” Remus asked.

Roman took a long, deep breath, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Awesome ‘cause if it didn’t I’d have to crush up all your bones.”

“…Thanks, Ree,” Roman shook his head with a fond smile.

“You feeling good enough for dinner?” Remus asked, “’Cause I think Janny’s made pie, and he’s gonna get worried ‘cause we’ve been gone so long.”

“I… I think so,” Roman nodded. Shoving Remus away so he could get up. He waved away the mess from the mirror and now that spot felt far too empty, but he wouldn’t let it bother him right now. His tail still dragged over the hardwood floor, but it didn’t bother him so much now. Remus grabbed him by the arm and dragged him downstairs.

“Sorry we’re late!” Remus yelled as they arrived in the dining room, “Roro was having a crisis again.”

“Is everything alright?” Janus looked up with concern clear in his expression. Roman smiled.

“Yeah – it is now,” he said, taking his seat.

“Mhm, I helped,” Remus said proudly. Janus chuckled.

“Thank you, Remus, I presume you did an awful job?”

“As always,” Remus nodded with a grin. Roman couldn’t help but smile as he settled into their company, finally able to relax now that they were both here.

When Roman returned to his room later that night, he found a new mirror in the old one’s place, this one was just as ornate, but made out of black marble.

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[themerriweathermage]

Midwinter's Flame

Summary: It's Yuletide in House Enduring and Bren and Nix have decided to showcase their barony to the other barons, proving that they're there to stay and won't be intimidated into anything. But a party with all the barons is bound to bring drama and some find out that House Enduring and its barons are more than what they bargained for.

Pairing(s): Baron Quinn X OMC (Bren), Sunny X OFC (Nix)

POV: 1st person (Bren), 3rd person

WARNINGS: NSFW/18+/EXPLICIT CONTENT, CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE, BLOOD, BREATHPLAY

Co-creator: @i-drink-and-i-write-fics

Divider Credit: firefly-graphics

I kept my eyes on the door as our esteemed guests began to make their way inside. It came as no surprise that the barons who didn’t know us all that well would bring a small allocation of Clippers. Such was allowed within the rules of the invitations we had sent out to bring them all together to introduce our House to their baronies on this fine festive evening. But oh, it was more than that too. 

Quinn’s allocation of just Declan and Sunny meant that he truly believed he needed no more if things came to a fight. Fair, Sunny was probably one of the more dangerous Clippers in the Badlands and I doubted anyone wanted to be on the end of Declan’s blade, or Quinn’s for that matter. Rojas had brought his wife, his Regent Esme, and only one Clipper who seemed to stay close to his wife’s side. Minerva had brought her most deadly butterfly, Tilda, and Gaius Chau who I knew was more than capable of holding his own. No doubt that would stir up some drama later tonight. I let my eyes rivet over him for a moment. Well, he certainly looked charming in blue.

But I couldn’t let that distract me, turning my attention to the others. Chau and Broadmore had both chosen an allocation of three Clippers, plus a highly trained Regent. That left Baron Hassan with an allocation of five Clippers. But given his territory was sandwiched between Chau and Broadmore, I wouldn’t blame him for erring on the side of caution. The Peacock territory had dressed us handsomely for this event. He carried himself with no small matter of pride gleaming in his eyes to see us dressed in the handiwork of his people.

“I see the good baron is about sussing out his threats.” Rojas made his way over to me.

“Baron Rojas. Welcome to House Enduring, officially.” He gave me a curt nod as if to accept such a welcome. “I hope you enjoy the party.”

“Given our current company,” Rojas started, eyeing first Quinn and then Chau, “I hope we enjoy the entertainment.”

“I hope that entertainment behaves.” He snorted, a wry smile coming to his face. 

“I think you have a better chance of your sister’s dragon becoming flesh and blood. But you didn’t hear that from me.” He beckoned, for a moment, to the woman standing across the room. “I’d like you to meet my Baroness, my lovely wife Grace.”

“Baroness.” I inclined my head to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Baron Bren.” She murmured. “It’s always a pleasure to meet someone that Ro goes on and on about.” I could feel my cheeks heating up, knowing that my face was turning pink.

“Surely I’m not that impressive?” I questioned.

“Well, it’s rare to find someone with a different opinion of how the Badlands could be run. And even rarer to find someone who’s willing to put that opinion into action.” Grace offered. “Baroness Minerva is the only other one I know who would share such an opinion, but until the two of you came along, she was vastly outnumbered in her opinions.”

“Minerva is a valuable ally.” I murmured.

“I can see why.” I let my eyes flick over the room. Most were settling into the swing of things, breaking off into small pods of conversation, sampling the wares of House Enduring. Quinn had a glass of whiskey in one hand and was heading in our direction.

“Here comes the drama.” I remarked lowly and Rojas stifled a chuckle.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Sometimes it really surprised me that he could turn the charm to ten when he wanted to.

“Baron Quinn.” Rojas murmured.

“Baron Rojas. Baroness Grace.” And then his attention settled on me. “Bren.” Oh, this was how the night was going to go?

“You come into my house with the audacity not to call me with my title?”

“Why should I?” Quinn asked, smirking.

“Fine... Quinn. But two can play your game. Do not expect me to extend a courtesy to you when you won’t give it to me.”

“Hm.” Was he expecting something different? “I’d be willing to put coin on you calling me Baron by the end of the night.” How could he be so boldly crass in front of other people? I arched my eyebrow slightly, schooling my expression.

“Excuse me for a moment, will you?” I asked Rojas, turning to face Quinn. ��Be careful, Quinn, or I’ll make you cuss my name by the end of the night.” Interest flickered through his expression.

“Bold words.” His fingers touched against me, tipping my chin up.

“So one has to be when dealing with you.” I replied. If he was going to play this game, then so was I. I snatched the drink out of his hand, taking it for my own. “Thank you for the drink... Quinn.” His expression was affronted as I turned my back on him, leaving him to huffily make his way back to the bar.

“So much for behaving.” Rojas murmured.

“At this point I don’t know if that was directed towards me or him.” I wrinkled my nose at the whiskey. “If it’s a game he wants, it’s a game he’ll get.”

“And where one drama leaves, another comes to play.” Rojas tipped his head in the direction of Broadmore and Chau, quickly making their way over in the wake of Quinn’s exit. My oh my, the whiskey was looking tempting right now. Instead I plastered on a fake smile, greeting them both respectfully.

“Baron Broadmore. Baron Chau.”

“Ah, the Gelded Baron himself.” Broadmore smirked. I had the dignity to look down and then back up at him.

“Last I checked, they’re still intact but believe whatever you will, I suppose.” I caught Grace covering her mouth out of the corner of my eye. Whether in shock or amusement, I would never know. Broadmore sputtered out a reply, seemingly incensed by the crass retort.

“With the way you let your Baroness speak for this barony, one would never know.” Chau started.

“Nix and I agree on most things. Why wouldn’t I let her speak for our barony? She holds just as much power as I do.” 

“Which is to say none, you mean. You need alliances to have power. And we need our gold to run the Badlands.” Broadmore had recovered, I see.

“My alliances are my business. Find your gold elsewhere, Baron Broadmore.”

“You WILL reopen the mines!” He hissed. There was a presence at my back now, Dominique coming to my side.

“I will do nothing for you, Baron Broadmore. I do not roll over and show my belly to bullies.” I replied coolly. “I thought that much was obvious when I took this barony from Quinn.”

“You mean, when you slept your way to the top.” Chau added. “Come now, don’t think us so naive. There’s only one way to that man’s heart and it’s through his bed.”

“Not that it matters when you’re so dead set on believing this fantasy, but last I checked, Quinn came crawling into my bed and not the other way around.” I retorted.

“You need us to make this barony function.”

“No. I don’t.” Chau looked so affronted at this. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other guests to attend to.” I managed to excuse myself before the conversation got any louder, making my way to the bar with Dominique in tow.

“You gonna drink that?”

“No, and you don’t want to either, considering who it belonged to.” Dominique wrinkled his nose, watching me pour it out. By the time I’d turned around, there was a glass of wine waiting and Dominique had seemingly vanished back into the crowds, deeming his presence no longer needed. That left Minerva and Hassan of people that I still needed to greet. Both had taken up occupance in the corners of the room, seeming to observe the room. I made my way to Hassan first.

“Baron Bren.” He greeted me softly, keeping his voice low and measured.

“Baron Hassan, welcome to House Enduring.”

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s quite the show you’ve put on and I enjoy seeing my work on display.”

“Nothing less than the best.” Hassan offered me a rare smile.

“I’m pleased that you think so. The others do not usually offer such kind words.”

“The others don’t know how to appreciate good handiwork then.” I murmured, taking a sip of my wine.

“I’m sure they do.” Hassan eyed Quinn from across the room. “I can name at least one who got your invitation and decided to commission me for something a little special.” I turned my attention in the direction he was looking, taking a moment to admire Quinn, although I knew I couldn’t let my eyes linger too long. He was dressed rather sharply, maroon jacket with a silver armadillo stitched onto the back.

“Well, I’ll be damned. The devil does look good in red.” I remarked. Hassan barked out a sharp laugh, amused. Of course it’s only a pleasure if it ends up on my bedroom floor. I shook my head, shaking that thought away with another sip of wine. That outcome was highly doubtful.

“I am not so sure that I would be so willing to count him among allies, but you seemed to have intrigued the Armadillo. I suppose only time will tell whether or not that’s a good thing.” I was grateful that he hadn’t read my face like a book, mistaking my silence for quiet contemplation.

“I enjoy Quinn’s company.”

“Really? You two are so different.”

“I enjoy Quinn’s company when he’s not being an ass.” Hassan chuckled lowly.

“That’s fair, I suppose. But I think those moments are rare with him.”

“Perhaps.” I murmured. He touched my arm briefly as we bid our farewells and I turned my attention onto Minerva. Onto Minerva plus cute boy. I hoped my face didn’t show up as beet red as I thought it was turning, making my way over to them.

“Well, well, well, Baron Bren in the flesh.” Minerva started. “Saving the best for last, I see.”

“Well, when you’ve got Quinn, Broadmore, and Chau to serve up the drama for the night...” I started. “Let’s just say it’s a breath of fresh air to be in civilized company.” She chuckled softly.

“Any luck on convincing Hassan to ally with you?”

“Considering he’s between Chau and Broadmore’s territories... I won’t bother. I have a feeling they’ll squeeze him if he gets a little too close to us. But come now, we’re at a party. There will be time to discuss alliances another time. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“It’s impressive to say the least.” I turned. Gaius had finally spoken. “I half expected someone like Quinn to throw a party like this, not some...”

“Upstart barony?”

“I mean you no offense.” He started, uncertain.

“It’s not offensive. Hells, the share of nicknames have already gone around tonight. What we’re doing is showcasing to other barons that we’re not weak and we’re not going anywhere. It is about alliances, yes, in a roundabout way, as all politics are.”

“Anyone tell you you’re a smart man, Baron Bren?” Gaius offered.

“Sometimes, and then they see me with Quinn and that logical thought usually goes out the window.” Minerva snorted.

“With good reason. The man’s a bull. What you see in him, I’ll never know.” Minerva commented.

“Hm.” I only offered her a wry smile.

“Mineeeeerva.” Quinn’s drawl could be heard across the room. She gave me a pointed look.

“Apparently we are occupying too much of your time.”

“Oh, him? He’s just needy.” I replied, smirking, feeling him at my back. “You play nice with the other barons now, Quinn.”

His grumble told me that remark was unappreciated. Here, a little bit away from the hubbub, he was a little more casual than normal. But then again, I’m sure Minerva was more than well aware of what was between us. I would venture to say that he didn’t like me standing so close to Gaius Chau though. He wasn’t quite touching against my back yet, but he was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. I knew if I looked up behind me, I’d be greeted with a smirk and some sort of witty remark. But I wasn’t about to let him win this game he was playing in my own house!

Instead I took that fateful step backwards, leaning into his chest. He couldn’t do anything, not here, not now, not with an audience. “You are playing with fire.” Quinn grumbled.

“Would you have me any other way?” I asked. His eyes darkened, and in that moment, I knew we were about to cross each other’s lines. He was about to say something that was going to get him slapped. Instead, I chose the most inopportune moment to take a sip of my wine, inhaling at just the wrong moment as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll have you by the end of the night as long as you’re a good boy, hm?” I choked, nearly snorting the wine out of my nose but recovering the last possible second as I reared back and my hand made contact with the back of his head. The slap echoed across the room as he yelped, giving me a frown as he rubbed the back of his head.

“There is a line and you are crossing it!” I hissed between my teeth, struggling to keep the coughing fit at bay. “Excuse me!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you offended him.” Minerva’s voice faded as I ducked into a lesser used hallway, taking a moment to catch my breath. From there I could have sworn I caught the tail end of Sunny’s jacket disappearing outside. Well at least one of us would have a moment alone. I, however, appeared to have been followed, and unfortunately that person wasn’t Quinn. Never a dull moment at a party, and never a moment alone it seemed. I would have rather faced his wrath than deal with the hellfire that seemed bound and determined to corner me.

I needed a moment alone. I needed a moment to make sure that no one had slipped beyond the temporary ballroom and gone snooping where they shouldn’t have. I couldn’t have eyes everywhere but I could utilize the eyes I already had, and Dominique was just emerging from the kitchens. 

“I need you and Lydia to keep an eye on the party for a moment.”

“Funny,” Dominique peered around my shoulder, seeing and knowing that Juliet Chau was not far behind me. “Baroness Nix said the same thing. And where will you be off to?”

“Sneaking a little time with the Armadillo no doubt.” Chau remarked.

“Why don’t you come with me and see, if you’re so set on this idea?” I asked. Dominique threw me a questioning look. But better one troublemaker be kept out of the party than for him and Lydia to have to keep their eyes on all of them.` “I have a perimeter patrol to make of the estate. It won’t take but a few minutes.” 

“If you say so, Baron.” Dominique replied, letting me fall into step with Chau. It was dangerous no doubt; she wasn’t my enemy per se but she wasn’t my ally either. 

“You know I’m quite surprised at you. I thought for sure that you would be meeting Quinn.”

“I don't usually conduct that kind of business here. There are too many listening ears and watchful eyes.”

“Business. Mm. Strange thing to call your affair with Quinn.”

“Why does my affair with Quinn interest you?” I asked, eyeing her warily.

“He’s one of the strongest barons in the Badlands. The fact that he would so willingly throw in his lot with you is strange, considering your barony is growing a crop that would rival and compete with his opium production. You have nothing to offer him.”

“No, my barony has nothing to offer him in trade for an alliance. And yet here we are loosely allied anyways. I can’t imagine what would persuade him to stay.” I replied coyly. She let out a dry laugh.

“Oh I think we both know exactly how he’s being persuaded. If I had known that was all it would take to be allied with you, perhaps I should have offered up my brother, but that offer seems to be off the table considering his recent... liberation... from the Fox Territory.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t have liberated him myself the moment you offered him up to me, as if he were meat in front of a wild dog. Reasons like this only solidify my decision to not ally with you. You treat your people like shit.”

“They’re Cogs, Baron Bren.”

“My people are civilians! My staff are paid!” I turned on her. “I provide my people with the basic necessities to live because I find that power based on fear is brittle. They work because they want to, not because they have to!”

“You are naive!” Chau hissed. Our raised voices must have attracted attention because in that moment, I heard one of the doors creak open and looked behind me-- a mistake really-- to see a pair of eyes peek from behind the door. “What’s this then?” She asked, using the split second of my hesitation to yank one of the older children from behind the door. By the time her blade came flying out to threaten them, I’d put myself in front of them and the tip of her blade grazed over my cheek and nose. “A tiny spy?”

“A child. A child orphaned by the coup d’etat that Ryder and Zypher orchestrated!” I snarled, feeling rage build in my chest. “You do not get to come into my house and threaten my people!”

“Or what?” Chau asked, almost taunting. I pushed the frightened child back into the room gently, making a mental note to send a nanny in there as soon as I could, shielding the door, hopefully to prevent any more intrusions.

“Or this!” I growled, coming down on all fours in the shape of a bear. She shrieked, startled, and booked it down the hallway with me in pursuit, steps thundering behind her as a growl ripped from my throat. Chau burst out in the ballroom, her Clippers immediately at attention at their baron’s distress.

“Bear!” She pointed in my direction but I had taken the moment that she’d gathered attention to her to shift back into my human form, smoothing out the wrinkles in my jacket. 

“What? You didn’t like my little party trick?” I asked sarcastically. “Keep your blades to yourself, Baron Chau. Or you will find out the hard way why I am called a dragon lord.” I’m sure my eyes were cold, and the presence of blood on my face immediately brought Lydia to my side.

“What happened?” She asked, fussing. The cut wasn’t deep thankfully, and I could mend it here in a moment as soon as I could.

“Nothing important.” I replied, keeping an eye on Chau. “I need you to find someone to mind the children. Chau got her hands on one of them. I’m going to find myself a snack.” I lowered my voice. “That little altercation has taken too much out of me.”

“Should I get Nix?”

“I believe that it’s been sufficiently handled. I don’t think she’ll go snooping anywhere anytime soon.” I replied, heading for the kitchen since none of the appetizers looked remotely appealing. Gods be damned, I couldn’t get a blessed moment of peace in this household with all these barons, because as soon as I was rooting through the fridge for some cheese, Quinn cleared his throat from behind me and my head snapped up, forgetting that I was halfway buried in the fridge. “Ow!” Now my pride was definitely wounded and I emerged from the fridge with a scowl, eyeing Quinn (and Declan behind him, ugh) and rubbing the back of my head with one hand and holding a block of cheese with the other. I squinted in his direction, eyes watering.

“Where’s Sunny?” Declan asked.

“Why the fuck are you asking me?” I asked, grabbing a knife from the knife block and cutting myself a piece of cheese. “Do I look like I know where Sunny is?”

“You look like someone who got their ass handed to them.” Declan remarked.

“Keep talking and test my temper and see if I won’t put you through a wall again!” I snapped. Quinn made his way over to me, hands on my face and I winced as he ran his thumb under the cut.

“It’s not deep. But it needs to be cleaned regardless.”

“I will take care of it, in a MINUTE.” I growled. “Let me eat, for fuck’s sake, before anyone else decides that they want to be a casualty in my wrath!” That got him quiet. I sat down to the table with a plate of cheese and some desserts that we had decided weren’t gold-star quality enough to be served to our guests. What’s worse was that that particular commotion seemed to draw Dominique and Sarah into the kitchen and to my side. No, I didn’t want all these people here and I definitely didn’t want Declan pestering me about where Sunny was. I managed to stuff my face full in a very undignified manner to keep the questions off of me at least for a minute, washing it down with a glass of water.

And then they started again. “Where is Sunny?!” Quinn wasn’t one for patience today, I see.

“Why are you asking me where Sunny is?!” I threw my hands up in frustration, standing and nearly upsetting the table. “I totally wasn’t in here sneaking dessert or anything.” 

Declan wrinkled his nose. “That’s worse.”

I reached over and smacked him in the back of the head. Unfortunately my strength wasn’t quite up to par yet and it was a weak reflection of what I’d hit Quinn with earlier. “Not everything is about sex, you know!”

“Where is--” Quinn was red with blustering anger, and I couldn’t tell at the moment if it was aimed at me or Declan.

“Why the fuck are you yelling in my kitchen, Baron Quinn?” Thank the gods for Nix’s interruption. Her voice carried over the commotion easily. And just at the moment, Sunny poked his head into the kitchen from the doorway that led back out of the ballroom.

“I believe I heard you asking for me, Baron?” Declan’s jaw dropped.

“How did he sneak around so quickly?!”

“He wasn’t with me, you morons!” I snapped, gesturing. “You followed me in here! You know I wasn’t with Sunny. What are you trying to accuse me of?!”

“But you were sneaking around!” Declan retorted.

“I hardly made it secret enough for it to be called sneaking around, but if you must know, it’s because parties aren’t my thing. We did this because it was expected of us. I know that as Baron I have social obligations and that’s it. I legitimately went to go get a snack. Why am I being harassed about it in my own house?!” I saw Nix roll her eyes out of the corner of my eye.

“Because the Armadillo and his crony don’t have two brain cells to rub together.” Well that was fair. At this moment, yes I agreed with her. We had gone from Quinn seeming to actually care that I’d been wounded to him jumping on Declan’s ‘where is Sunny’ train. I smirked for a moment.

“Besides, if I wanted that kind of dessert, I wouldn’t be going to Sunny.” Nix made a face as Declan gagged. Some sort of vague approval mixed with interest filtered across Quinn’s face before he seemed to shake it off.

“You have your regent; leave my brother alone. And stop snooping around my grounds or I’ll sic my dragon on you.” Quinn grumbled out in Nix’s direction.

“I wanted Sunny to put Chau in her place.” I glanced up at him curiously. His face was unusually set in stone, eyes glittering in anger. How the man could jump from one train of thought to another so quickly and with such fierce emotion baffled me at times.

Nix raised an eyebrow slightly. “What did that bitch do now?” And I finally turned to face her, the ugly truth revealed.

“She may have drawn blood.”

May have?! Nix didn’t even need to say it for me to hear it in my mind. Her expression went from incredulous to eerily calm in half a second. “Where. Is. She?” I saw Sunny’s eyes widen in recognition as he realized what was about to go down.

“Nix, remember. You’re a baroness now.” But that wasn’t about to deter her.

“And this bitch broke Guest Rights in my home!” She stomped out of the kitchen, and my weak protest to her seemed to go unheard. Oh shit.

I took a minute to make myself look presentable before heading back out into the fray. With Quinn on my heels, I definitely wasn’t expecting to immediately be flanked by Chau and Broadmore and their entourage of Clippers as soon as I made my way back into the ballroom.

Two, four, six, eight, I took in a deep breath, trying to assess for weakness as blood thundered in my ears. I could see Quinn out of the corner of my eye over the heads of the Clippers, with Sunny’s hands on his chest, and a stormcloud brewing on his face, his sword drawn in brazen anger. He was probably yelling but I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear him: that shook me more than anything. I didn’t want my back to Broadmore, but I also wasn’t going to turn it on Chau either.

“Listen here, you runt. We will not stand aside as you and your sister continue to take our cogs. We’ve worked too hard to make the Badlands what they are.” Chau threatened, but it was like her voice was far away, drowned out by water or by the beat of my heart. The blade she held in her hand was still stained copper red with the blood she had drawn earlier. I held my head high but I knew there was panic in my eyes. I could feel the shift in my bones, feel it brewing in my chest, begging to be released. But I couldn’t do that here, and terrify our people in the process. Chau smirked down at me.

“What’s this? Not even willing to defend yourself? I guess those rumors we heard from the Armadillo are false. There’s only one dragon lord. You can’t even defend yourself. Oh, Bren,” I bristled at the use of my name in her condescending little coo, “Why do you even try to run a barony? We both know you’re not one for confrontations in public. Especially violent ones. It’s just not your style.” I looked over her shoulder and nearly breathed a sigh of relief because Nix was standing there, murder in her eyes.

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.” I replied, making it a point to crane my head to look beyond her and Chau slowly turned to see Nix standing there, pulling Dark Sister from the sheath on her back.

“You broke my rules, Juliet. Clippers, gūrogon zirȳla!” (Gūrogon zirȳla - Take her)

Dominique grabbed my arm as soon as Chau was flanked, pulling me out of the commotion. I knew I was supposed to follow them but the world was just too loud right now and as the party seemed to move outside, I found myself being caught in Lydia’s hands.

“Please tell me you have good news.” I murmured, taking a seat on the porch, seemingly dazed.

“The situation has been handled.” She replied softly. I tried to focus my eyes on her, on her words, on her face, on the touch of her hands on my knee, and tried to make my world stop spinning for a moment. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“Mm.” I made a face. To tell her that I wanted to hide behind Quinn seemed like a less than good idea. I couldn’t even see him among the mess that was happening in our front courtyard; hells, I couldn’t see Nix but I sure as hell saw Meraxes. “I need to be out there. I need to show them that I’m not weak.”

With a little help from Lydia, I made my way to Nix’s side, although there was still ringing in my ears and Meraxes’ roar certainly didn’t help with that. But I couldn’t clutch my head and go down now, not in front of all these people. So I set my jaw and stood tall, willing the dizziness away.

“We don’t need your alliance. Or yours, Broadmore.” She met his eyes with a scowl. “Your weapons are not a necessity. We are forging our own as Meraxes watches our lands. Nothing you produce will take her down and nothing you do will stop me from protecting everyone under my care. You want to give me a nickname? Call me Firebreather. Because that’s exactly what will happen the next time I catch you two on our lands.” 

The silence that followed was deafening, not that I could particularly tell, only trying to read the uncertainty of the crowd. And then Baron Rojas broke it.

“I will make it known now, in front of everyone, that you will always find an ally in my barony, Baron Bren and Baroness Nix. House Tyrell will support House Targaryen.” That brought a smile to Nix’s face, and then Minerva followed the vow of alliance.

“As will my barony. Hell, I’ll even offer a few suitor choices to solidify the alliance since the both of you are still single.” Nix snorted as even more red began to tint my face. Thank the gods it was cold out and I could blame it on that.

Rojas cleared his throat. “As will I. There may be a person or two in my barony taken with Baron Bren, if that is alright.” Oh. Oh.  I was definitely red now and I knew Nix found this highly amusing.

“We can discuss possible courtship offers at a later time. For now, House Enduring accepts your offer for alliance and gives ours in return.” At that moment, Quinn cleared his throat and the crowd grew silent.

“I, also, offer my alliance to Baron Bren.” Oh that cheeky little shit. Of course he wouldn’t actually offer an alliance to our House. I could see Chau smirk at me, even from her position at the edge of Nix’s blade. Hassan remained quiet but we met eyes from across the clearing and I knew he couldn’t jeopardize himself to support us, and that was fair. Nix turned her attention back onto Chau.

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run, little rabbit. For the dragon is hungry and you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.” I could have laughed if the situation weren’t so serious. Meraxes’ eyes glowed bright red and the color drained from Chau’s face. She scrambled to her feet and raced for the gate, her regent and small Clipper force at her feet. Nix turned towards Broadmore, who began to usher his wives in the same direction.

Nix lowered her sword as I turned to her. “Well, you certainly know how to end a party.”

She smirked in my direction. “Hey, it took the focus off you.”

“Suitors?” I asked, frowning. 

“Let’s discuss that later. Right now, we should probably see the rest of our guests off. It’s been a long night.” 

It had been far too long a night. My ears were still ringing; my cheek and nose still burned with the unattended cut, and I could still feel the remnants of adrenaline pumping through my body. But she was right; we should be seeing the others off. Both Rojas and Hassan knew the cues to know when the party was over and bid us a quiet goodnight as they made their way to the gates, ushering out their family and their Clippers. Minerva stuck around for a moment more, giving me an appraising look. They all knew that I had a history in being captured. They all knew that I had a history of being unpleasantly surrounded.

“You handled yourself well tonight.” She murmured quietly. “It could have gotten bloody.”

“Maybe it should have.” I retorted. “Maybe I should have shown them that they can’t just walk all over me.” Some sort of approval lit in her eyes.

“I’ll look forward to the day then. Goodnight, Baron Bren.”

“Goodnight, Baroness.” She rolled her eyes and ushered her party out. That left Quinn, at the bar with his back turned on us. I made my way over to find him pouring himself a glass of whiskey, growling under his breath. He jumped when I touched his side, elbow coming flying back like he expected an attack but I leaned out of the way, hand grazing across his arm and the fight seemed to leave him as soon as he realized it was me. “Are you alright?” He grumbled out a reply, taking a sip of his whiskey and seeming to wince. “Quinn?” I questioned softly.

“I’m fine!” He glowered in my direction, but he wouldn’t face me either and I tugged him away from the bar, seeing a flash of red that wasn’t the red of his jacket, crimson blossoming on the white shirt beneath. 

“What did you do?!” I chided, moving the jacket aside to see a jagged tear in his shirt, blood staining the area around it.

“It’s just a scratch.” He muttered.

“Clearly not.” I replied, “Or you wouldn’t be guarding it like a wounded animal. What in the seven hells did you get into?”

“An altercation with Chau’s Regent.” Sunny replied. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Seemed like everybody’s nerves were on edge.

“Um,” I shook my head, trying to get rid of fuzzies for a moment, regretting it almost immediately, “Come with me.” I tugged on Quinn’s hand, taking him into the small infirmary that we kept in the house to tend to minor wounds and ailments, sitting him down as I flitted around, gathering supplies to tend to him. “Shirt off, please.” I couldn’t tell if he was begrudging about it or not. He certainly took his time, but that could have been for any number of reasons related to the pain.

“I don’t suppose you have any...” Quinn hissed out through his teeth as I dabbed at the gash gently, cleaning it. 

“We don’t really make an effort to keep opium stocked in this house.” I murmured, placing my hand against his side, focusing my intentions on diverting pain away as I carefully stitched the wound. His brow furrowed as he looked down at me.

“That feels strange.” I heard his words but they were still far away. The more I knew about the way his body healed, the better chance I had of helping him in the long run.

“‘M sorry.” I sat back on my heels, cleaning the blood away. Seems practice was starting to pay off. Quinn leaned back in the chair, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Thank you.” I started. “For helping. Although I’m sure Nix would have words for you about getting involved.”

“They had you surrounded. They could have...”

“They could have tried.” I replied. “But I don’t really relish in the fact that one day I’ll have to shift, that I’ll have to scare the wits out of everyone around me.” His eyes met mine and I knew, I knew, that we were both thinking about that day down in his armory.

“Your people don’t know?” He asked. “And here I thought you kept no secrets in this barony.”

“Mm. They know a little bit. They know about the dragon. And they probably know it’s me. But just seeing the dragon and seeing me transform into the dragon? Well there’s nothing exactly pretty about that.”

“Did you really turn into a bear and chase Chau down the hallway?” I gave him an only slightly evil grin.

“She deserved it.” Quinn rumbled out an amused chuckle, leaning forward with a grimace to run his fingers down the side of my cheek. I couldn’t help but to lean into his touch, sinking into the warmth of his hand. 

“I believe I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Maybe.

“Stay the night.” I found myself saying, glancing back up at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Your Baroness would not be fond of--”

“My Baroness doesn’t have to know. Send Declan back to the Fort. You and Sunny can stay the night. I’ll arrange guest quarters.” Quinn barked out a laugh. “Unless you’d prefer another arrangement... Baron.” I knew I’d played my ace just right, fingers gripping into his thighs as I hoisted myself up, towering over him if but for a minute.

“Hells.” Quinn snarled under his breath.

“I mean, unless you don’t want to stay...” That time he definitely growled.

“Goddamn you, Bren.” He muttered.

“Stay the night with me.” I whispered, lowering my head to press a kiss at the corner of his mouth, knowing that he couldn’t resist taking more. I could taste the burn of whiskey on his tongue, losing myself for a moment in the heat of his mouth. “Or do you need more convincing? I’m sure there are other ways I could--”

“You do that and you won’t make it to your quarters before I rail you.” Quinn growled.

“Well then, you go tell Declan off and I’ll find guest quarters for Sunny. I trust you know the way back?” I asked, letting up my pressure on his legs. I could have sworn I heard him whimper in my wake as he threw on his shirt and jacket again, looking very pleased with myself as I made my way back to the now empty ballroom where our staff were still cleaning. Declan and Sunny were at the bar. I was doubtful they were commiserating over whiskey but I approached them regardless just as Quinn’s voice thundered across the hall.

“Declan!”

“Christ.” Declan swore under his breath, taking the glass with him as he went.

“Well he’s in a fit.” Sunny muttered. “And you looked pleased with yourself which tells me everything I don’t want to know.” 

“I’m here to show you to guest quarters.” I replied.

“Are you keeping my baron occupied or are you henning him?”

“I’ll leave you to wonder.” I murmured. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter. He won’t be leaving my quarters once he gets in them.” Sunny snorted.

“Gross.” I led Sunny down the hallway to appropriate guest quarters in Nix’s wing of the estate. “I suppose he’s sending Declan on his way?”

“Well he’s certainly not staying here, as nosy as he tends to be.” I replied, taking the key out of the door and checking the room before handing it over to Sunny. “You know your way around. All I ask is that you don’t go anywhere where Quinn could feasibly find you.”

Sunny gave me a look. “You and I both know he won’t go looking.” I only smiled at him, chuckling softly as I made my way to the front door where Quinn was ordering Declan out. I got icy glare from the latter as he made his way to the back of his horse and turned his attention out of our barony, issuing haste to the horse beneath him to make sure that he was returned to the Fort whether he wanted to be or not.

Quinn joined me at the porch railing, pressing himself against my back, hands over my own. I let out a contented sigh, leaning back into his touch.

“Do all parties end in chaos?” I asked.

“Welcome to the Badlands.” He replied. “And what’s this I hear about baronies offering up suitors to you? Single? You?” My breath caught in my throat as he pressed a kiss to the side of my neck with the hint of a growl in his voice. “I apparently didn’t make it clear enough who you belonged to.”

“Apparently not.” I teased. His mouth drifted lower, fingers tugging down the jacket to my shoulders so that he could suckle in a bruise, making sure to leave a mark on me.

“Well I’ll just have to remedy that, won’t I?” He asked, free hand busy working at the buttons of my shirt. Cheeky.

“Baron?” Both of us turned to the intrusion, Quinn especially with a growl, definitely not having been caught red handed at all, nope, to see Sarah at the door. “Apologies, I thought everyone was uh...” She glanced away.

“The hour is late. Whatever is cleaned is cleaned. The rest can wait until tomorrow. You have a lovely night, Sarah.”

“Thank you, Baron. Goodnight.” With that she made a hasty exit. I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. It wasn’t risque at all but it was certainly compromising.

“We should probably find our way inside.” I murmured, pressing my hand to the side of Quinn’s head. 

“You’re too lenient with your staff.”

“You know damn well that you and I differ on our policies on how to run a barony. Don’t you come in here with that bullshit unless you’re looking for a fight.” I leaned back into Quinn, looking up at him. “We both know you would rather fuck me.”

“Mmmm.” He gave me the kind of look that told me I wasn't wrong but he wasn’t willing to admit it either, following me inside and through the estate to my quarters. “You clean that wound on your face before it gets worse.” He ordered as I locked the door.

“Yes Mother.” I groused as he gave me a look, eyes on my back as I made my way into the bathroom, taking a moment to clean the cut, hissing out between my teeth as I used my druidic healing prowess to heal it into a nice clean scar. If only I had been able to get to it earlier... but what was in the past was in the past. I eyed the chair across from Quinn; gods that was appealing, but I knew as soon as I stopped moving, I would be so reluctant to get up again. Instead I set out some cannabis to burn in an incense dish, the hazy tendrils of smoke beginning to spiral into the air.

“Cannabis. Your prized vice of choice.” Quinn rumbled out. “It’s a shame that you don’t stock any--”

I cut him off. “My prized vice of choice is you.” I planted myself across his knee. “Do you really need the opium to make you feel good? Am I not enough for you? Is my body not enough for you... Baron?” I could feel him quiver beneath me.

“Oh, you are a minx.” 

“Would you have me any other way?” I whispered, a breath away from his lips.

“I could have you on your knees.” Quinn replied. “Between my thighs. Your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock. Like a good boy. Like my pretty boy.” You know, given all that’s happened tonight... Would it really be such a sin to indulge? I let my thoughts drift, sliding to the floor, fingers unbuckling his sword belt, letting it fall to the floor. He groaned out beneath my touch, hand freeing his cock. “Brennn...”

“You sing sweet when you want something.” I purred, flicking my tongue over the head of his cock and watching his eyes roll back. “Keep going.” His hand snapped to the back of my head, fingers knotting in my hair, pressing the heel of his hand against my head. It wasn’t really to force me down as much as it was to test his limits with the pressure but I went under it willingly, sinking my mouth down on him, going as far as I could go without it putting an unpleasant amount of pressure on my newly healed scar.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy.” Quinn crooned. “So eager for your baron’s cock, hm?” After tonight? I doubt anyone would believe me if I said there was some normalcy to being with Quinn like this, but he did exactly what I wanted him to do, exactly what I needed him to do: be that distraction that would make me forget the night. I wanted him in control, wanted him to be that baron so I could throw away my title and pretend that I was his pet for the night. 

He smoothed his other hand down my cheek, fingers cupping my jaw. “I just want to fuck your pretty mouth.” Oh, the devil was tempting me. I drew back for a moment, breaking my rhythm.

“I’ll let you, if that’s what you want.” I offered. He gave me this curious glance, as if to wonder if I really did enjoy him being in control.

“You’re certain?”

“You’d know if I wasn’t.” I replied, and he didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I shifted into a more accessible position the moment he stood, letting his hand press back against my head. His thumb pressed against my lips and I followed the guidance, letting him take control. Both hands pressed against the side of my head and I couldn’t help but purr out a pleased sound. The pressure was exquisite, and I could forget everything at his every beck and whim.

“Gods, Bren.” Quinn moaned then, losing a little bit of his control, fucking himself into my throat. There wasn’t anything else to concentrate on like this, except to dig my fingers in the back of his thighs and yank him closer, practically gagging myself on his cock and listening to the way he moaned for me. “Fuckkk...” He growled lowly, tugging on my hair, getting another sound out of me, getting exactly what he wanted, just that little bit of extra stimulation. “Fuck you, you filthy little baron. You’ve been teasing me all night and now I’m not gonna last long enough to enjoy you...” Quinn snarled. Teasing him all night? Oh, I had hardly gotten started but perhaps that was for the better. Gods only know what would happen if he got his hands on me after I’d really teased him. Unless he was really telling me that I’d gotten him all hot and bothered on our first interaction and well, that could certainly explain why he was so interested in hounding me for the majority of the party. I glanced up at him, managing a smirk even with my mouth occupied and that seemed to be the final straw for him. “I’m gonna fucking ruin that mouth of yours. See if you backsass me again.” He groaned out, hips jerking sharply, body tensing as he came. He had no decency either to give me a little bit of space, leaving me to choke down on him. The bastard probably enjoyed it, all things considered.

“Backsass you?” I asked, looking up at him, eyes glittering in amusement. I ran my tongue over that spot that made him weak-kneed, making him grab my hair with a hiss between his teeth. “You just gave me more reason to.”

Sunny sighed heavily. Well tonight had been... a fiasco to say the least of it. When he’d first heard about House Enduring hosting this party, he’d considered it a bold move. They were showcasing their strengths to the other baronies, proving that they were here to stay. He nursed a glass of whiskey as he took a seat on the couch in the living room, watching the staff wrap up their tasks and turn in for the night. He didn’t want to know where or what Bren had corralled Quinn into. Declan’s reaction earlier to Bren calling his baron a dessert left little to the imagination, and Sunny ventured to say that Declan had probably seen a little too much of Quinn at some point or another.

“Sunny?” Lydia’s voice cut his train of thought. “If you’re here, does that mean...” She trailed off in the unspoken question: Quinn’s still here?

“Oh, trust me when I say that wherever he is, you don’t need to go looking for him. He’s occupied.” Lydia wrinkled her nose.

“Ew.”

“I take it you don’t approve.”

“It’s not really my business.” Lydia replied. “Quinn is my ex-husband, and Bren is my Baron. Do I think Bren is too good for him? Absolutely. Am I going to interfere? Not a chance.”

“He’s gonna end up getting hurt.”

“If Nix can’t even get in between them, what chance do any of us have?” Lydia asked. “She’s in the office. Something about not being able to sleep.”

Sunny made his way in the direction that Lydia had pointed, finding the office door open and Nix at the desk. “Up for company?” He asked, knocking on the door.

“Sunny?” Nix blinked. “What are you, mmm? Don’t answer that question; I don’t want to know. Did Quinn at least send the dipshit home before he went gallivanting somewhere he shouldn’t be?”

“Declan is definitely gone.” Sunny replied. 

“So my brother invited you to stay the night. Risky.”

“I doubt Quinn will be wandering around.” Nix made a face, shaking her head. “He took a blow from Chau’s Regent, and Bren seemed agitated by it. He’s either henning Quinn or other things, but either way, Quinn is occupied.”

“Ugh, why does my brother’s taste in men have to be a rabid bear? Gaius freaking Chau showed up to the party tonight and Bren didn’t even give him a chance, a chance. I’m telling you he would make a much better brother-in-law than whatever Quinn’s got going on.” Sunny snorted, taking a seat in one of the office armchairs.

“If it gives you any consolation, I doubt Bren had a choice in not noticing Gaius Chau because as soon as they started up conversation, yours truly was interrupting.” Nix rolled her eyes. “I won’t pretend to know what exactly is going on between my baron and your brother...”

“All you need to know is that it won’t end well. Because it’s Quinn.”

“Mm... Lydia shares that opinion as well. He... acts differently around Bren... sometimes. I couldn’t call it caring myself; I’ve known Quinn since I was a child and he doesn’t care about people, but he also doesn’t act around people the way he does around Bren.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.” Nix replied.

“You said it yourself. There’s something there, something rising topside in Quinn.” Sunny took a sip of his whiskey. “I won’t say I approve but...” He let the sentence fall. “I’m sure there are more interesting things we could be talking about than my baron. Lydia said you couldn’t sleep?” Nix shrugged.

“I’ll sleep when I get tired. Tonight’s been... too much. I mean, I should have expected it. I should have known that someone would cause drama, be it Quinn or anyone else.”

“Well it is the Badlands. Alliances are ever-shifting here, for the most part. Your barony seems dead set on changing that. I look forward to seeing how that shapes the future.” Sunny sighed. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come to bed?” Nix raised an eyebrow at him.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Absolutely.” 

I had landed on my back in my own bed before I had the time to think about what was happening to me and there was a very deliciously naked man on top of me. How he had the strength to function with those stitches in his side, I would never know. “You are wearing far too much.” Quinn grumbled.

“You’re the one who threw me here, you know.” I replied. I placed my hand on his side, prompting a wince, hoping that it would slow him down a little bit as he worked through the buttons of my shirt, tugging it loose.

“Infuriating.” 

“You seem to enjoy it.” I managed to wiggle out of the jacket and shirt in one go. “You can’t really mean to tell me that you have enough stamina to go again?” I asked in disbelief. 

“I wish.” Quinn grunted. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you come screaming my name.”

“If you can get me to scream it, I’d say you’d earned a victory.” I retorted, raising up on my elbows to be greeted with a bruising kiss, Quinn pinning me back into the bed. “Can’t remember the last time, if any time, that a man has made me scream his name in bed.”

“Not trying hard enough.” Quinn replied, hands wandering. Not trying hard enough? Oooh, this man was arrogant. I shook my head slightly, leaning into the touch of his fingers on my body as they traced their way down, touching anywhere but exactly where I wanted him to touch. I let the shiver roll through me, arching myself against his thigh. He smirked back down at me, resting the palm of his hand against my cock. “Oh come now, where’s that spot that makes you squirm... Baron Bren?”

“Oh don’t call me that here. Call me anything but that.” I murmured. “Unless you want to kill the mood that is.” He tilted his head to the side.

“You don’t like the title.” Quinn realized. “At least not on yourself. Mmmm.” He rumbled out a growl, eyes darkening as he gazed down at me. “You like it when your baron takes care of you, hm? Like it when your baron takes care of his pretty boy?” I raised an eyebrow in his direction. He knew he’d gotten exactly what he wanted; that much was obvious when he had his hand pressed against me. “Hm?”

“Yes... Baron.” His smile was nothing less than a self-satisfied smug smirk, working at my pants. Hells, I could get out of my pants faster than this but the impatient wiggle was quickly stifled and oh, he was doing this on purpose. He was dragging this on and on, amused by my reactions. “You fucking prick.” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh?”

“And you have the nerve to call me a tease.”

“The difference is that you can’t stand it when I tease you.” Quinn crooned, leaning in close to me. “You can’t bear it when I take my time. You want it now. Where’s the fun in that?” He teased, wrapping his hand around my cock, thumb smearing precum across the tip. I couldn’t help the hiss that made its way through my teeth, instinctively rolling my body into his own with a whimper. Why did his hand always feel so much better than my own?

“Oh, you make such pretty little noises.” He leaned in to kiss me again and this time I couldn’t help but thread my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly. “Moan for me. I wanna hear how good you feel with my hand wrapped around your cock.”

“Quinn.” It all came out in one rushed breath, torn between trying to obey and the heat of pleasure that was beginning to spread. And then his hand started to move in steady strokes and I knew I had lost this game. “Quinn!” I whined that time.

“I can’t hear you, pet.” I leaned up, seeking a kiss and he denied me.

“You...!” I whined again. He tsked.

“Needy.”

“Kiss me!” I tugged on his hair again but he was less than willing to move, eyeing me down. “Quinnnn!” It was a little louder than I was used to being and that fact embarrassed me more than anything, pink tinting my cheeks. “Fuck, Quinn, you fucking bastard!” I snapped.

“I could shut you up if you’re going to be so rude.” He retorted, hand resting snugly under my chin. Well, that was precarious. And worse was that I was turned on by it, and that all rational thought was leaving me.

“I fucking dare you.” I didn’t think he would be the one to take the challenge lightly, and I was correct in that guess. He didn’t press in hard, but his hand closed around my throat regardless and that delicious pressure plus his hand on my cock meant that I wasn’t going to last. “Fuck.” I knew my voice was strangled around his hand. “Harder.” For a brief second, I saw him raise his eyebrows at me, uncertain. “Please.” I could feel my heart beating against his hand as he squeezed just a little tighter, my breath coming strained. “Fuck yes, Quinn.” His touch was the flame of pleasure, a raging inferno right at boiling point. “Quinn! You’re gonna make me cum!” I dug my nails into his back, crying out his name as ecstasy took over.

By the time I could think rationally again, Quinn was sitting back on his heels, giving me a rather appraising look. “What?” I asked. 

“You’re dangerous.” I peered up at him.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know anyone, any man or woman, who would invite me into their bed and then get off on me choking them out.” Quinn retorted. “You do know I’m a Clipper, right? And not just a Baron?”

“I wouldn’t have let you get that far.” I replied, sitting up on my elbows. “I know my limits. I learned them the hard way.” He raised an eyebrow at that.

“If you’re going to tell me that you practice that behind closed doors when you’re alone...”

“And if I do?”

“You’re insane.” Quinn replied. I gave him a dry laugh.

“Maybe. But I also don’t like being teased, and I know how to push your buttons.” I sat up carefully, sinking into the pillows behind me. “It’s called breath play. And I do enjoy it.” A bath would be in order soon, but that could wait a minute, because Quinn was leaning into me, resting his head against my chest.

“I told you I could make you scream my name.”

“That’s mortifying.” I replied. “Glad that my room is shielded. No one else needs to hear what we’ve been up to.”

“How disappointing. I would have loved to rub it in to--”

“You are a rude-ass man.” I muttered, running my fingers through his hair. He grumbled out a reply. I would take the rare moments that I got to have him like this. Yes, the relationship was mostly sex and a strange dynamic at that, but there was... there was something more. There was something almost soft about him when we were alone like this in the post haze of pleasure. “And you owe me a kiss.”

“Oh do I now?” Quinn grumbled.

“More than one actually.” He snorted, rolling his eyes at me. It was a while before he spoke again.

“I-- tonight could have ended badly.” I blinked, looking down at him.

“I get the feeling you’re not talking about the sex.”

“I’m serious, Bren.” Was the genuine worry in his voice? “They could have killed you.” I almost didn’t know how to respond.

“You still really think that my best place in the Badlands is sitting in your office, reading your books, isn’t it?” I asked.

“I wish you wouldn’t have taken this barony on your shoulders.” He finally replied.

“I have my sister. We share the burden equally.”

“But you don’t really, do you? Because you care too much.”

“I don’t find my compassion a flaw.” I murmured, tipping his head back so that I could meet his eyes. “Not a chance I could get you to tell me what this is really about, could I?” I asked. He looked away. Not ready for that discussion, I suppose. “I’m going to run a bath. Join me.” He sat up somewhat reluctantly.

“I should go.”

“I need you to stay.” I was surprised how quick that came out of my mouth.

“The wound is nothing, Bren. You don’t have to hen me!” He nearly turned on me with how quick his change in attitude was.

“I need you to stay because I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” I whispered. His expression softened for a minute. “I recognize that I was put in a precarious position tonight. That...” I took in a deep breath, steadying myself. “Reminded me of my time out in the wilds. Please, Quinn. Stay.” He nodded to me, our hands finding each other, fingers linking together. We stayed that way a minute more before I finally managed to stand, making my way to the bathroom.

“You managed to handle yourself well.” Quinn started, watching me run the bathwater hot. “For a moment, I was worried that you would turn and bite someone.”

“Maybe if they’d gotten too close I would have.” I replied. The teasing was light-hearted and gentle, rare from Quinn. He took a seat on the edge of the tub as I dipped in, shaking his head as he tested the water temperature. 

“You seem to be some sort of lava sprite. Think I’ll wait.” 

“Of course you’re the kind of man who can’t stand heat.” I murmured, sinking into the water. Time was the essence; I was tired and this body had had enough for the night. I wasted little time in cleaning up, toweling off in a heartbeat. I pressed my hands into his back. “But you can’t tell me this doesn’t feel good.” I ran my fingers along the arch of his spine listening to him rumble out a sound beneath me. I pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Get cleaned up. I’ll be waiting for you.”

For a man who didn’t treat well with being ordered, he certainly could listen when he wanted to. I tossed on a shirt and some underwear, changing out the sheets, taking a moment more to pick up our clothes and fold them neatly. Another time maybe, I could have been persuaded to at least mend his shirt and jacket but now sleep was calling my name and I was surrendering myself to bed. I only vaguely recognized Quinn joining me in the bed, tucking myself up against him as the night finally came to an end.

Morning came way too fast. I wasn’t usually the one to rise with the dawn, but a gnawing hunger finally drove me from bed. It almost surprised me that Quinn was still here; he’d almost been adamant that I not take care of him, for whatever reason. I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his brow, lips lingering on a scar. He hardly stirred but the little rumble he let out told me that he was awake, or at least somewhat awake.

“I have to eat.”

“I could give you--”

“Don’t you dare start.” I shook my head at him warningly, throwing on some pants and tossing my hair up into a messy bun, wandering down the hallways to the kitchen. The sun hadn’t even started rising yet and I wasn’t about to bother any of our staff after the late night they’d all had last night. But despite the pressing issue to eat, I knew that eating wasn’t going to entirely solve the problem, so I grabbed something quick and made my way down to the infirmary.

It was staffed overnight, but Veil was just setting up for the day. She paused on seeing me in the doorway. “Good morning, Baron.”

“You know you can call me Bren.” I replied. “Any chance I can get some bloodwork done?”

“You? Being pre-emptive in your care?” She teased softly. “Of course. Take a seat and I’ll be there in a moment.” I took a seat nearby, trying to block out the dizziness, trying to block out the nausea. It was like last night all over again but I couldn’t tell at the moment if that was because of a low blood sugar or because I was remembering all the events of the night before. If she took notice of my quietness, she didn’t say anything, wrapping the band around my upper arm and swabbing the inside of my elbow. “This might sting.”

I was no stranger to it, but I still looked away at the first prick of the needle. “Been sleeping alright?”

“As much as my mind will let me.” She chuckled wryly.

“When’s the last time you ate something?”

“Last night, at the party, somewhere in between Quinn and Declan interrogating me.”

“I heard it got out of hand.” Veil murmured. “I take it you had a tussle.” I shrugged slightly watching her collect a few vials, taping off the exit wound with gauze. She tipped my chin up, examining the scar on my face in the light. “I’m surprised we didn't have any visitors to the infirmary last night, all things considered.”

“I was able to take care of the other injury. Besides, unless you fancy having the Armadillo in your infirmary...” I trailed off, helping myself to the snack I’d brought with me.

“Oh, I’ve heard stories from my father about how tetchy he can be. Hopefully he didn’t give you a hard time.”

“Well, my stitches seem to be improving.” She shook her head.

“You are a bold man, Baron Bren.” It was quiet in the infirmary other than the quiet whirring of machines that we had managed to salvage. It was nothing compared to what we had in the Old World but it was more than what the Badlands had started out with when we got here. I stayed out of her way as she took stock for the day ahead. Dominique poked his head in the door.

“You know, you could at least let someone know where you’re going wandering before you wander off?” He asked.

“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to go anywhere in my own barony, Dominique.” I replied. “I was hungry.”

“Kitchen is about half a mile away from where you ended up.” Dominique replied. “And your tetchy-ass company is looking for you.”

“He really shouldn’t be in a bad mood.” Dominique made a face. “Will you send him my way? I need to look at his stitches anyway.”

“Yeesh.” Dominique muttered, turning away. Couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes before Quinn’s frame filled the doorway. There was question on his face but he didn’t ask it.

“Thought you were getting breakfast.” 

“Bloodwork was more important. Breakfast came afterwards. But while you’re here...” His eyes widened.

“No, absolutely not.” Quinn started to back away.

“Oh quit your fussin, and let me check your stitches.” I muttered. “Or more or less, let me show my handiwork off to my mentor.” I yanked him back through the doorway, lifting the side of his shirt to reveal the neat row of stitches across his ribs.

“Impressive.” Veil murmured. “You are getting better.” 

“Hurts like the dickens.” Quinn muttered.

“Oh, I bet.” She replied. “But then again, your preference for opium isn’t doing you any favors. Ask the good baron for his medical grade stock of cannabis, and... I’ll have something made up for you to take an edge off the pain.” Quinn blinked.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

“Be nice to my Chief of Healers!” I scolded. Veil suppressed a small smile, turning back to read off the results of my blood work. A few other healers were beginning to flit around the infirmary as Quinn turned to me. 

“Medical-grade cannabis?”

“We stock medical-grade opioids too.” I replied.

“So you do buy my stock.”

“Not usually for recreational use.” I shook my head. “But I will concede that there are some types of pain that cannabis just won’t touch. I’d rather not encourage opioid use as a catch all.” Veil handed me the results on a folded piece of paper before gathering up some supplies to send off with Quinn. I glanced at the numbers briefly, wrinkling my nose. 

“That seems like a less than ideal face.”

“And here I thought Declan was the nosy one.” I replied, folding the paper and looking up at Quinn. “Routine blood work is necessary.” I paused for a moment. “And being a dragon lord, so to speak, does not help.” 

“Well, this is for you.” Veil set down a basket. “I recommend seeing someone who is at least medically competent every three days so that infection doesn’t set in, and coming back to have your stitches removed...”

“Or I could just remove them myself.” Quinn muttered. I smacked the back of his hand.

“No!”

“Fussy.” Quinn grumbled.

“Or you can go see my father. I’m sure he’d be willing to assist you. Otherwise, here’s a few tea mixes that should take down the pain and whatever fevers could arise as complications. A salve to reduce scarring. A balm to reduce aches and pains, not to be applied on an open wound, and of course,” She glanced at me questioningly.

“A cannabinoid tincture.” I replied. “Since I get the feeling you’re the kind of person who doesn’t particularly care to wait.”

“What are the other options?” 

“Cannabinoid oil. Takes longer to take effect.”

“This is a fairly standard kit we give to most Clippers.” Veil replied, tucking the small bottle in the basket. “Take under the tongue. Five to ten drops and no more than that.”

“Better be a miracle drug.” Quinn muttered, taking the basket. “Standard Clipper kit, hmph.” I rolled my eyes. There was no shortage of drama with this man. Sunny poked his head through the door. 

“Baron?” I suppose that was their cue to leave and I followed them out to the porch where Sunny was already mounting his horse again, reins in hand for Quinn’s horse. 

“Tch...” Quinn tsked, frowning.

“We were due back at our barony hours ago. I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome, Baron Bren. But thank you for your hospitality.” Sunny started.

“Well I hate to see you go,” He narrowed his eyes at me, but I turned my attention to Quinn, “But I love to watch you leave.” I murmured. Sunny gagged, and Quinn smirked down at me.

“I bet you do.” I stepped in close to him for a moment, watching him turn and mount his horse, giving me one last look.

“Take care of yourself, Quinn.” 

[stillebesat]

Scales (5/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation, Death Talk Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

His scales?

But...but HOW?! 

Deceit shot to his feet before Logan could stop him, growling under his breath as his vision briefly blurred, but he couldn’t just sit still for this! “That’s impossible. HOW?!” He stumbled away from the others as Logic reached for him, instead heading to the window, wishing the sun was up so he could at least feel its heat through the glass.

“Kiddo,” Patton had also moved to his feet, hands outstretched. “Perhaps you should sit back dow--”

“But it doesn’t make sense! Nothing’s changed!” Deceit ignored Morality’s advice, continuing to shakily pace the floor. “My scales have never changed like that before! They should still be snake scales! They’ve always been--” 

He flinched at the electric touch lightly wrapping around his left wrist, forcing him to stop before he antagonized the scales there. He jerked his head up, wobbling as he struggled to breathe, his human eye focusing on Anxiety. 

“It’s obvious what’s going on isn’t it?” Virgil said, the shadows under his eyes pitch black. “It’s because you’ve been--”

Deceit hissed, going stiff. “Don’t you dare say accepted.” Just because they considered him to be Fa--Family didn’t mean that--that Thomas--He was a DARK SIDE for crying out loud! A BAD GUY. You don’t get accepted for being that after a simple name reveal!

...Right? 

Virgil huffed, letting go. “When did you last shed? Before or after you told us we could call you Lyal?” 

Deceit gritted his teeth lightly brushing his wrist to ensure the shed there was alright. It wasn’t like he could lie though, Logan already knew the answer. “...Before.” 

“And what changed afterwards?” Roman asked, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes nearly glowing like they did whenever his Creativity was sparked. 

Deceit looked away. “You...invited me--”

“To dinner!” Patton said, clapping his hands together. “We started including you more.” 

“And you said yourself that you experience changes in your shed when Thomas is experiencing a period of growth himself and we are all a part of Thomas are we not?” Logan asked, resting a hand on Deceit’s non-scaled shoulder.  “Ergo, Thomas is growing to accept you because we are including you. It is a major change, Lyal.” 

“But...dragon scales?” He whispered, allowing his shaky legs to collapse him to the floor. He half curled in a ball as Logan knelt with him. “I--I---” It was too much. It couldn’t---he couldn’t! 

“They’re not all bad you know. I mean…It probably doesn’t mean much coming from me since I...well...fight them.” Roman said, carefully brushing Deceit’s scaled cheek with his fingers, leaving burning fire in their wake. “But she--the Dragon Witch--she does have her moments of...of being okay on occasion and you’re-” He gently rubbed his thumb under Deceit’s unblinking eye. “Probably more like Toothless than Smaug.” 

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Toothless? But Lyal obviously still has all his tee--”

“He means Dee’s like the Dragon named Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon, L.” Virgil interrupted. “With how he appears all dangerous at first...but turns out to be--”

No, no no! Deceit did not like where this metaphor was going. He bared his teeth, raising his human hand, ready to grab at the air though that hand had never been as good as his scaled one in silencing the others. “Call me soft and or cute Annie, and you’ll--”

“Not be making threats right now, LyLy.” Patton scolded, shaking a bright yellow finger in front of his scaled eye. “We need to solve one problem, not cause more.” 

“Agreed.” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Which means, we need to listen to Roman in order to help you. If your scales have changed to dragon scales then by all means he would know best on how to have us help you.” 

“Us.” Deceit echoed faintly, dropping his hand “But--”

“We’re family.” Logan said, his eyes glittering with careful humor as Deceit made a face. 

They really needed to stop using that word in relation to him. He wasn’t--

“And FamILY sticks together!” Patton declared. “Ro, how do you help the Dragon Witch? What do we need to do for Ly?” 

“But what if this is wrong?! What if it--” Deceit drew in a shuddering breath, ducking his head. “It could go wrong.” He whispered, leaning into Logan. “You don’t know--I’m not a Dragon Witch, I can’t--” 

“Lyal.” 

Despite himself, the tone of Roman’s voice had Deceit looking to the Creative Side as he placed a hand on his heart, holding his other one out to him.

“On my honor as a Prince and as Thomas’s Creativity, I promise, you won’t be harmed.” Roman offered him a smile that was softer, somehow more vulnerable than he’d seen on the Creative Side before. “I know what I’m doing.” 

How could he promise that?! They were going off the assumption that Deceit’s scales worked in the same way as a figment in the Imagination! It wasn’t going to--

“After all…” Roman pulled back his hand to run his fingers through his hair, messing up the princey styling as he fidgeted in place. “I did...I did base her off you--you know--since--well you are--were? A bad guy.” 

Patton gasped, eyes going wide. “You did?!” 

Roman flushed, “I was twelve okay? I was mad at Fibber on the Roof here for something I can’t even remember now so I--I created--her based off of you, but I didn’t know that you had snake scales and dragons were so much cooler! So--so there has to be some truth to your scales working the same way as hers.” Roman offered him a shaky smile. “Right?” 

Deceit opened his mouth to deny it, but he didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t his own words confirmed his scales were no longer snake ones? Hadn’t his room had betrayed him in the humidity not helping him? And Creativity--Roman was confident about this...this dragon process.

But what if it all went WRONG?! What if he lost his hand because of this! Or his eye?! He was already a freak among them. He was already--

“How about a small test.” Logan offered into the silence as Deceit continued to hesitate. “Perhaps a small spot on your shoul--”

“NO.” Deceit drew in a shuddering breath as the others stiffened. “I--I mean--yes.” He had to get the shed off somehow. “To the test. But not there. Not my arm.” 

He needed his arm and if this didn’t work he didn’t want to chance losing any mobility there that he hadn’t already possibly lost. “Ro--” He swallowed over the lump of terror stuck in his throat. “Roman can--try it here.” He pushed away from Logan, though the Logical Side refused to fully release him, and gestured to his side, holding his arm out and away to give Creativity access to the area. No one ever saw him shirtless anyways, so if--if this didn’t work, it wouldn’t be a big deal to have the scales be malformed there. 

“I can work with that.” Roman offered him a more confident smile as he snapped his fingers and held out his hand, a pile of opalescent dust appearing in his palm. “Usually the Dragon Witch just buries herself first and I help out later, but overall it’s a simple process for a little test.” He said. “I just press this against your side--”

“This being?” Virgil asked, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

“Volcanic ash.” Roman said. “It draws out the moisture from the shed. Once it’s dry and flaky, we use some brushes to remove it and then a cloth with some mineral oil to shine the new scales right up. Easy.” 

Easy enough. Deceit drew in a shaky breath, closing his human eye though his snake one remained fixed on Roman’s brightly burning hand as it neared his side. He really hoped this would work. “Do it.”

“Gently.” Logan cautioned, shifting his position so he was fully behind Deceit. A slight pressure on his shoulders urging him to lean back against his chest.

Patton took Deceit’s human hand squeezing it. “You’re gonna be okay, LyLy.” He whispered.

Still. Deceit couldn’t help but flinch as Roman pressed the dust against his side, near his navel, his breath hitching at the warmth emanating from the spot. Much warmer than he expected it to feel. 

Virgil’s vibrant heat signature leaned forward. “How long does it take to know if it’s working?” 

“Not long.” Roman reassured him. “Give it a minute.”

A minute. Deceit opened his human eye staring down at the spot, trying to ignore how hard his heart was pounding, how tightly he was squeezing Patton’s hand. A minute to know when it had taken him six days to realize something was wrong. A minute to discover if this volcanic ash would help him or--he didn’t want to think of the or. 

“And--” Roman relaxed his hand, allowing the ash to fall away from the shed and onto the carpet. 

Deceit made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he released Patton’s hand to gingerly touch the spot, warm now from the pressure Roman had placed on it, but no longer was the same shade of sickly green as the rest of his shed. Instead it had blackened like burned timber. 

Was that good? Was it bad? While it did feel unnaturally warmer, the spot wasn’t itching like past shed periods to indicate that it was ready. So this had to be bad. The scales had o be ruined there now! It hadn’t worked! IT HADN--”

“Dee.” Virgil’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts, causing him to look up.

Anxiety’s eyeshadow had darkened again, to the same shade as the spot as he pulled Deceit’s hand away from his side. “Breathe.”

BREATHE? Deceit inhaled raggedly, clutching at Annie as Roman quickly brought a small currying brush up to his burning side, gently massaging the spot in small circles. 

“That’s normal, Lion King. I promise. The skin always gets darker, the Ash--it makes it darker. It’s fine. It’s fine. I promise. It’s normal.” Creativity said as flakes of skin fell away under his careful movements. 

Deceit tensed, pressing against Logan, a soft hiss escaping him as he watched Roman work. This hardly felt normal. It felt all WRONG! Normally the shed just...peeled off. It didn’t flake like this! 

“Nothing’s gone wrong, Lyal. It’s working exactly like it does for the Dragon Witch.” Roman continued to reassure him, flashing him a smile as the brush changed to a cloth that he carefully rubbed along the spot. “See?” He pulled away, revealing a set of brand new scales gleaming under the light.

To Be Continued Chapter 5

[majorxmaggiexboy]

author interview tag!

tagged by la joie de ma vie, @f-ro-g

Name: ostensibly it’s Maggie but also Major but also whatever anyone feels like calling me as long as it’s not deliberately mean or something.

Fandom(s): as far as the ones i actually try/intend to make some content for, we’ve got BBC’s The Musketeers, BBC’s Merlin, AMC’s TURN: Washington’s Spies, The Grinning Man (Musical), Hadestown (Musical) Lazytown, probably Legend of Zelda if things keep going the way they are, uhhhh...I used to write for Ranger’s Apprentice, and am likely to do so again. I also have a Marvel (Mostly Bucky tbh) blog that was pretty active for a while before infinity war crushed my dre- OH RIGHT also How to Train Your Dragon. and a bunch of others that are just. dormant atm. pretty much anything i’ve ever enjoyed, ive got at least one fic for it. why did i forget to say Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, this is an outrage.

Where you post: 😂😂😂 when i make it that far, it’s usually on here? i have an ao3 but always get intimidated by the tagging system.

Most popular oneshot: oh god it was probably one of my Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time fics actually. Nothing recent, as i’ve not posted anything in forever

Most popular multichapter fic: i had a somewhat popular Ranger’s Apprentice story back in the day! I don’t recall if it was my most popular, or if that would’ve been one of my Musketeer fics, but the Ranger’s Apprentice one was one of my earliest fics and i remember being so surprised to be getting a lot of comments and consistent readers/engagement on.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: as far as Original Fiction, i’m still pretty attached to my unfinished saga that started out as a Short Story Writing Exercise and turned into about 18 separate stories within the same universe. Having recently looked back over the outlines for that one, it needs a lot of work and there are plot aspects that didn’t age super well, but i’m fond of the characters, settings, and premise and still think it could be salvageable.

as far as fanfic tho...i’ll have to actually finish and post some before deciding :3

Fic you were nervous to post: pretty much everything from 2014 onward has been accompanied by absolute terror immediately upon hitting ‘post’

How you choose your titles: ngl it’s usually either, think of a story and then find a song or song title/lyric that fits, or hear a song and go “Oh, i like that for a title” and make a story to suit. for fanfic, anyway. for my original fic...i don’t really know how past!me came up with the titles, and i haven’t made any new stories in quite some time. I think we just picked stuff we thought sounded cool and then found a way to tie it to the story. Except the ones that were like “This is an adaptation of The Grasshopper and the Ant. It’s called Grasshopper”

Do you outline?: obsessively.

Complete: i’ve never finished a story in my life negl

In progress:  so many. i’ve got 42 drafts on my Main blog alone

Coming soon/not yet started:  SO MANY.

Do you accept prompts?: YEPPERS, usually on my specific fandom sideblogs.

Upcoming work that you’re most excited about: probably The Manner of Things, which is a magic au of The Grinning Man. And then also A Moment to be Real, which is a Grinning Man au based entirely on one single scene in Treasure Planet. im also excited for all the Floydmadge shmoop i hope to write soon.

tagging the following people: idk who all this would be relevant for so, apologies if i tag u and it’s non-applicable! also if it is applicable and you’re not tagged, go for pls! @samayla, @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper ,@the-walking-pie

[katie-dub]

Can you tell us about all your influences and inspirations for The Princess of White Chapel? I remember you mentioning you included a lot of Easter-egg type references and while I’m sure I spotted several of them I’m also sure there were some I missed. Thank you 😘

What a great question! I absolutely cannot resist a good easter egg, yes I am a total nerd, thanks for noticing!

The big Big BIG influence on the story was Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. Hopefully if you've read that, you'll get it, but I just love that mixing fantasy with reality and the way that London itself is a character in the story. That's the vibe I tried to capture with my fic. The obvious Easter egg is that Killian was due to attend a book club about it and that Emma was reading it. But Killian coming home to find Emma reading anything was a bit of an Easter egg - in Neverwhere, RichardRichardMayhewDick comes home to find Door reading a copy of Mansfield Park! (There's a Neverwhere Easter egg in The Masks We Wear too, prize for anyone who can tell me what it is!)

Doctor Who was another influence - specifically, the way the Doctor doesn't always end up quite where he means to! That's also why Killian's Dr Killian Jones (although the career makes a PhD a must too!).

There are some things that aren’t necessarily influences on the fic, but I couldn’t resist putting references in. It was hard not to be aware that there’s an Enchanted Vibe to the story - and a lot of people picked up on the Enchanted reference of Emma not knowing what a shower is and asking where the water comes from. As is her calling the TV a magic mirror. And the fact that the whole rift in time came to be called the Enchanted Disaster, as we discover in the final chapter. I love that film.

It’s probably less obvious to everyone, but I was also influenced by the amazing and witty descriptions of the city that @blessed-but-distressed used in #FindEmmaSwanAFriend. It’s by no means an Easter egg, but lines like “there was a veritable rainbow of sunburn on display”, were definitely inspired by her descriptions.

I know that you’ll have picked up on the His Dark Materials feel to the end, but I doubt many people caught the Sliding Doors vibe to it too. 

I feel like you can’t go more than a few paragraphs without stumbling on some kind of pop culture reference in this fic - The Lord of The Rings, How To Train Your Dragon, Marvel, Moana, Narnia, Star Wars, Wonder Woman, Game of Thrones, The Little Mermaid - it’s all the stuff that I love. I guess this is the influence of Buffy The Vampire Slayer on me!

There are just so many Harry Potter references - Emma was taken in by Oliver (Wood) and Katie (Bell), the zebras at the zoo turning into hippogriffs, the photo of the zookeeper reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Killian suggesting that he ask Harry Potter for his wand, the LWM Emma with her niffler.

George the dragon came about because of @distant-rose asking how I thought Emma would react to the London dragons. In my head he’s pretty much Mushu from Mulan, although I do love that Ro told me that she hears all his lines in a thick cockney accent in her head!

In case you’re wondering who the “angry women on the TV arguing about whether [the werewolves] should be kept locked up or not.” were, that a reference to daytime show Loose Women. It’s terrible, haha.

There's a whole bunch of personal Easter eggs that only a few people could pick up on in there too. 

I featured the Isle of Man that had disappeared in fog after the god Manannan threw his invisibility cloak on it, because that's where I grew up! (And yes, people mistake it for the Isle of Wight, a Lot, and residents do refer to it as “The Rock” a la Alcatraz!)

@mahstatins told me the fantastic story of the Merlin oak in Wales that also featured in the fic. And reptile handler Iri from ZSL, who was invited on TV as a dragon expert is somebody that she knows too! Haha.

And there are just too many wonderful details that wouldn’t be there without Ro’s guidance! The street art in White Chapel (which is all real, except for the picture of Emma), the places to eat, the use of the Tate Modern, and many many more.

That’s a lot isn’t it? There are probably more but I don’t want to bore you with them all!

Send me a director’s cut ask!

[sequoiajune]

what are your UTMV aus?

Okay so

I have like

Imma split this up

Various Published Fics

Behold, my AO3 account.

Overcurious - arguably my most popular. It is, fundamentally, an Error×Ink supernatural modern au, with a dose of plot. I haven't updatex it since August by pure virtue of procrastination, horrible interal clock measuring a month to the same scale a few days (etc. being like "oh it feels like I updated it a few~ days ago, it's fiinee" twenty days after i updated it), procrastination, distraction, overall lack of motivation, inability ro focus, inability to word, perfectionism, and anxiety (partially caused by the amount of notifications i got overnight for it, that first thing ive publicized in a while and the first to get ANY sort of significant comment feedback, and aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAA, that being said I do not regret publishing it at all becuz i met a lot of cool people and it made me rlly happy in the short run even if it sort of threw me off in the long run, and it's rlly happy and calming to look back at the comments and seeing me interacting with people, like a little while after publishing the second chapter i got into a fight with my mom, i don't even remember what it was about, but it hurt a lot at the time and i think i was crying and i calmed down and aaaaahhhh by rereading the comments becuz. Just. Not even what they were saying but seeing myself interacting so positively with people?? Idk if you knew this but because im homeschooled and awkward and tense i dont see other people my age a whole lot or in general (tho i do have some great irl friends) and i just, like, dont participate in a lot of stuff, tho mom prob wishes i would. It's a little odd but i find seeing myself, by reading internet conversations and things i did to make people happy like ChickenSmoothie and FR gifts and old texts, doing positive interaction because it's just like. Revisiting and seeing it, recorded and there- not memory but actually all there the same way i experienced it because that was literally It, exactly the same way i first had the conversation - just. really nice. Anyways im kind of oversharing and rambling again oops) and did i mention PROCRASTINATION, THE INABILIBTY TO FOCUS ON ANY ONE TRAIN OF THOUGHT FOR OVER FIVE SECONDS WITHOUT DYING, AND PERFECTIONISM? Still proud of this tho

It's not dead, it just sort of took a vacation from my head.

And on the bright side, i cant think oh it took this author so long to update >:( because i have no sense of time. (Also im not rude and insensitive or judgemental and can empathize with that) Example: the fics i met @parspicle on. Maybe it was a couple years ago they updated. Maybe a couple weeks. Maybe a couple days. Maybe a couple decades. Idk man, don't look at me. Idk if they will update again, but they updated some unspecified time ago and thats good enough for me, of course not saying that i dont want to see more. Just @ everyone whos fics i read, don't ever worry about how long it takes to update because i literally have no clue. At worst I won't see it because i got distracted something shiny.

Aaaahhh that had nothing to do with the fic im just rambling at this point.

Starmaps. Still into that idea, but again, other shiny stuff. Also I might want to revise or reorder the first chapter because depsite having a large portion of the story mapped out, (p)unintentional, I sort of wrote the first chapter on a casual whim without really thinking about lil details and how i want to go about it. On hold for now. Wrote the first chapter in my Hyperfixate on Nightmare and Cross, not necessarily as pair. Also Dream phase that may or may not have passed.

Trashy Families, Trashier Lives, and Trashiest Gremlin Nerds. Its a nightink royalty au, my brain is absolutely convinced it was super recent but apparently i publish it on October 22 and it's currently December 13th, over a month away? Time is wack. Anyways, i loved writing this and am proud of it, though i know less about whats going on than ive probably convinced all my readers. Probably a lot of subconscious inspiration from the dragon prince.

Mediums of Art and Error. It's an errink green eggs and ham au from when my bro got me to watch the netflix adaption with him. that's pretty much all the explanation needed, tbh.

So thats ao3. There's a few other things but I'll reblog with that to make sure that tumblr won't delete all of this when I press post becuz mobile

[she-ra-dorable]

imrules answer 21 questions and tag 21 ppl you wanna know better

tagged by: @wlwpermista

nickname: I go by Penn online usually, but most just call me idiot

zodiac: Capricorn

height: 5″5 last I measured? Many years ago?

last movie i saw: How to Train Your Dragon! Rewatching before #3 comes out!

last thing i googled: A merlin fic for answering an ask on another blog

favorite musician: Aw frick. Depends on the genre? Scottish rock probably Runrig? But I also like Tide Lines. And I also like all the musicals. And Irish. And Indie. oof, I can’t choose

song stuck in my head: Dragonfall by Clockwork Dolls, I’ve been listening to it on loop lately lol

other blogs: I have my main blog, @go-to-helvetica and I co-mod a merlin fic red blog

do i get asks: Not for a while, but I’m always accepting prompts for drabbles :)

following: 540 oof

followers: on this blog? More than I expected, for sure

amount of sleep: Either too much or never 

lucky number: 27, because of the Fall Out Boy song

what im wearing rn: It’s very early so I’m in pyjamas aka a Hogwarts shirt and basketball shorts

dream job: A writer, or just to work in an old bookshop in a small town in Scotland, probably lots of cats. 

dream trip: Scotland! Or New Zealand. Or Japan. I have no chill.

favorite food: I’m gonna say pasta bc it’s what I make most often, but I like sushi when I have it

play any instruments: I play piano and I know a couple songs on recorder B) 

languages: English, Hebrew, and I’m learning Italian in school. I can also probably pretend to know French

favourtie songs: Dragonfall by Clockwork Dolls, Dreams We Never Lost by Tide Lines, the entirety of the Hadestown soundtrack

random fact: I have 2 turtles named Merlin and Mordred and they are my children <3 

your aesthetic: Sort of punk with leather jackets and combat boots, but also any jeans and tshirts I stole from my bro lol

Idk if I know 21 people, but I’ll tag: @biadora @wlwdragonshera @wlw-adoraa @its-majestic @bisexualfrankenstein @saint-of-the-iron-sun @pbeltarts @she-ra-ra-ro-ma-ma

[enricodandolo]

What I’m currently working on

Mostly academia and ESO, tbqh.

Tagged by @celeritassagittae, I’m continuing the emergent tradition of sharing snippets.

Main project: next chapter of A Light Shining in Darkness

The Grand Duke indicated a brisk pace, and quite quickly they had reached a set of archways flanked by guards in polished steel cuirasses and elaborate masked helmets. Through the thick marble walls, the faint clamouring of a large crowd could be made out. “Ready to face the music, Inquisitor?”

She tried to think of something clever to say. She nodded.

On Gaspard’s arm, Bethany entered the Hall of Homage. At once, she felt blinded by the light of electric candles and sconces, reflected and prismed by hundreds of tiny crystals that hung from the frescoed ceiling in heavy chandeliers, and by the tall mirrors lining the walls on either side of them. It was warm in the hall, no doubt a consequence of the throngs of people gathered in it, yet a gentle breeze seemed to fly through it, bringing necessary refreshment. Once her eyes had somewhat attenuated to the sudden brightness, Bethany realised that the back wall of the hall was composed of five massive floor-to-ceiling windows interrupted by marble columns. The middle window was made of stained glass, although there was no way to determine what it depicted now that the sun had gone down. In the other windows, all wide open and leading out onto a large terrace looking out over the city, swayed large silk banners of the Orlesian flag. Yet Bethany’s eyes were intractably drawn towards the massive throne in front of the middle window. A huge sunburst emerging from the floor as half a wheel formed the backrest, and resting lions the arms. Both shone brightly in the chandeliers’ light, and Bethany would not have been surprised to learn they were shaped from solid gold. Royal blue cushions were embedded into the seat and backrest, the latter embroidered in gold with the imperial coat of arms. It was the sort of overloaded, almost gaudy thing she had expected, and yet she could not but be awed.

Bethany issued a slight gasp at the sight of the hall, at the scale of it. In the silence that slowly descended over the hall as all eyes turned to them. it felt like a scream. She flushed. Then, suddenly, to their right, a young elf in an embroidered silk herald’s tabard slammed a carved rod of wood onto the floor and exclaimed: “His Imperial Highness, Field Marshal the Grand Duke Gaspard of Chalons, Prince of the Blood and Marshal of Orlais! Accompanying His Imperial Highness: the Right Worshipful and Learned Enchanter Bethany Revka Hawke, Lady Amell of Kirkwall, formerly Viscomital Reader in Force Magic at that Circle, and leader of the Inquisition!”

Oh, bugger.

On hold for now: The Brightest Star in the Sky, a Mass Effect / real life crossover

Where Charon had been, there was a bright yellow, oblong and perfectly regular shape, forked in the middle. “What the hell is that?”

“We don’t know,” the flight director down at Goddard replied. The anxiety was plain to hear in her voice. “But we’ve got the White House on the phone.”

She was about to reply when another transmission came through. “Station, this is Munich.[1] The European Extremely Large Telescope in Chile just picked up an unidentified object seemingly appearing out of nowhere inside the orbit of Mars. We’re trying to establish what it is, or what its heading is, but it’s gone on the very next image we have.”

“How is that possible?” An idea hit her, and for a moment she had to weigh whether to ask the question at all. Maybe she had watched too much Star Trek. “Could it be moving at … well, at relativistic speeds?”

“Uh, Station, we’ll get back to you on that. Honestly, we’re as much in the dark as you are right now. Lemme put it this way, we just got on the line with the Berlaymont and President Mogher-”[2]

Whatever else the ESA flight controller had to say, it was lost in transmission as a sudden tremor went through the station, almost as if a shockwave had hit it. Giulia gasped in surprise, and almost at once bright red warnings popped up all over the laptops lining the walls. “Uh, what happened? Er, Sasha, life support?”

Quickly, the Russian floated over to the nearest Russian Laptop responsible for control of the Russian Orbital Segment. “It’s, uh … steady across the board.”

“I’m getting a caution from both P6 SAWs here!” Ana added, her voice raised with tension.

“Station, Moscow. We just got the data, is anyone hurt up there? What happened?”

“I, I don’t know,” Giulia reported, looking for a laptop that was set to telemetry data. “Space debris, maybe? We’re all fine, just a bit rattled. Do you have any alerts for us?”

“Three dozen. It looks like both P6 SAWs may be bent or broken, we will want you to examine those using Canadarm. For now, stay in the ROS in case there are more impacts like that. Keep emergency equipment on hand and stand ready to seal bulkheads throughout the station. We’re bringing SURGEON in, he should be here in a couple of minutes. Your telemetry looks good, be advised we will hand primary mission control over to Houston in eight minutes.”

“Roger, Moscow.” Giulia looked around at the others, whose faces betrayed their concern, if not fear. They didn’t send people up who lost their calm under pressure. “Moscow, do you want us prepare an emergency evac and deorbit? Please advise.”

“Stand by.”

There was no immediate reply, so Giulia turned to the others. “Alright, let’s take stock. For now, no one moves past N1. Sasha, Ana, I want you to keep a close eye on life support and telemetry. If anything happens, even if it’s just a routine alert, I want to know about it immediately. Ilik, if you could have a look at our electrical and radiation systems? Matthew, give me a hand. We need to stow away all this food before it gets on the instruments.”

“Uh, Giulia?”

“What is it, Ana?”

“You might want to have a look outside.”

Frowning, she floated over to the bullseye the air force officer was staring out of, utterly transfixed. She looked outside.

Then, she picked up the nearest radio receiver. “Moscow, Station. We have a problem.”

[1] Mission control for the European laboratory module Columbus is actually based in Oberpfaffenhofen, near Munich. As that is, however, a ridiculous name, EUROCOM is referred to as ‘Munich’ on the radio. Other control centres for the ISS are Houston, Moscow, Huntsville  (Alabama), and Tsukuba.

[2] No politicians were harmed in the making of this fic.

Still intent on continuing this at some point: Lohengrin, a Dragon Age fic set in the late Ancient Age

There was no reply to the call, and Elsa sank to her knees. She folded her arms before her chest, bowed her head, and prayed silently, as she had all those months of silence. Orinia was no longer sure if it really was just for show, or if she really was so deluded as to think her false god would help her now.

She glanced over at Telramund and the king, who were watching the scene with almost equally grim eyes. Surely, she thought, if no fighter could be found, they wouldn’t force the girl to take up arms in her own name for possibly the first time in her life? If she’d had any training, it certainly didn’t show on her frail and slight body. No, surely, the king was—well, at least he wasn’t entirely barbarian, although she shuddered to think of what kind of fate a nobleman of the empire might have to endure to be forced to live out the rest of his life amongst the barbarians in the dark forests of the far south. Not that her life had been all that much better, mind. But he had Tevene blood in him, and was clearly an intelligent and insightful man, much like her Telramund might have been had he had the benefit of a proper education. No doubt he would—

Someone sharply elbowed her in the back without so much as a sorry. Hurt and annoyed, Orinia turned around—though she would never have dared to berate what was doubtless a well-armed barbarian at least three heads taller than herself—and found that she wasn’t the only one to turn away from the praying girl.

All around her, people had turned to face towards the river, craning their necks and standing on tip-toes to see what was going on. Curiously—for what could possibly have distracted so many from such a matter of life and death?—Orinia tried to jump up and down, but found that even that wasn’t nearly enough for her to see across the heads of the barbarians. And as she was quite sure she would be crushed to death if she tried to make her way to the back, she didn’t even try and merely listened to what people were exclaiming or whispering around her. Look, look! What a strange thing! What a miracle! What’s this? A swan? A barge—it’s drawing a barge down the river—is that a swan?—look, look!—there’s someone standing in it—how marvellous!—they’re all in green, from head to toe, look, a swan—what a strange wonder!—look at the swan, mummy, look at the raft, look at the knight!—a miracle!—a miracle has happened!—miracle, such a strange unheard of marvellous holy miracle!

Now Orinia, too was craning her neck, trying to make out anything. A swan, what on earth were they talking about? Proceeding around them had ground almost to a halt, and then the crowd broke up as people ran towards the riverbanks to get a better view. As all around her streamed down to the banks of the Scaldis, Orinia and a few others were left up on the hill the linden tree grew on, so that a cynical observer might have noted that they now had a better view of what was going on. Telramund stepped to her side, and together they watched as an upright figure, dressed head to toe in gleaming green cloth that billowed and sparkled and flowed like water in the breeze, leaning on a spear in his hand, standing tall on a narrow, flat little boat, little more than a raft no larger than a door.

And the whole thing, on a golden chain, was being drawn by a massive swan, its plumage an exceptionally clean, bright white, at least four or five feet long, elegantly gliding down the river.

Also pretty much on hold for now: Poekhali, a Dragon Age fic about Tevinter blood mage elven psychopath Yuri Gagarin

Faleria had never been a planner. There was no plot, however well laid-out, that survived contact with the enemy, and any plan that required more than one other thing to happen was no more than make-believe. The people who wrote plays and pictures and novels in which cunning protagonists set events in motion years ahead, she had always suspected, wouldn’t be writing them if any of their own plans had succeeded. No, the way to get ahead was to know an opportunity when you saw it, and seize it without hesitation.

When she had been eleven, she’d thrown a tantrum about her parents’ inability to provide presents for her twelfth birthday, foolish brat that she had been. Luckily for her, the commander of the labour camp had just the week before announced improved rations for anyone who ratted out fellow prisoners for misdemeanours such as hoarding ration cards. Well, her parents had done so for weeks, and a few quick words to the guards later, found themselves marched to the gallows. Only later did Faleria recognise that α) they had been hoarding precisely to provide her with birthday presents and β) the long-term effects of this act directly increased the peril she was in. The human guards tutted at her betrayal of her parents. The other prisoners glared at her, especially the elves.

Not long after, one of them had tried to murder her in her sleep—whether for revenge or to steal her ration book, she did not know, for that very act caused her magic to awaken in her, violently. By the time she celebrated her first birthday as a mage, she had been removed from the labour camp and sent to one of the new military schools for the magically gifted, intended to bring them up as the new ruling cadres of Areolani’s new empire. Elves, of course, tended to face rather less lofty careers than their human classmates, but she’d always done fairly well regardless, she thought.

What, regret? Killing her parents had been the best damn thing that had ever happened to her.

That had been one opportunity she’d seized, and it had served her well. At the cadre school, she perfected her sense of opportunity, and found she had a gambler’s good luck. When she joined the army air corps as a pilot officer, it hadn’t taken long until she’d found herself gifted with a scramble-all siren, a sharp razor, and only herself and the flying officer placed directly above her alone in the shower room. She’d flown her first combat mission that day, and in truth it had only been astonishingly good luck, a few well-placed lies and the two Qunari fighters she had shot down that had saved her from suspicion. A flying officer’s stripes soon followed.

No tags, but feel free to carry this on!