Only the Nerdiest Dragon Clan

Summary: A small character exploration of Faerie and his unhealthy relationship circumstances with Rita.

Warning for indications of a very controlling partner and some unhealthy self-blaming thought processes.

“All set! Everything looks just perfect!” Valentino fluttered his wings and twirled around, coming hilariously close to tying himself into a knot, to grin at his boyfriend. Glaedr smiled back at him warmly before placing the tray of teacups he had carried in down in the center of the coffee table.

A look of sudden realization crossed Valentino’s face as he saw the tray. He quickly rushed into the kitchen. As the sound of the oven door slamming and transferring of a number of baked goods onto plates came ringing out of the kitchen, Glaedr looked over the items Valentino had chosen to bring out. There was the bags of balled yarn (the two had sorted those out together yesterday), a couple stacks of paper, scissors, all manner of other crafting items, and, perhaps most importantly, Valentino’s glitter collection.

“The cookies!” Valentino triumphantly lifted one plate above his head. Some other plates were precariously balanced along his lazily looped body. Glaedr immediately went over and lifted a couple of those off to place them on something a little less... excitable. "Aw, thanks, love!" Valentino darted forward to press a kiss on Glaedr's snout, upsetting another plate he had not yet relocated. Luckily, Glaedr simply reached out to steady it before nuzzling Valentino back.

While the plates of carefully shaped snowflake and snowman cookies were being moved onto the various tables, Glaedr remembered to ask “Do you know if Ville intends to join us tonight?”

Valentino reached over to the plate Glaedr was holding and slightly shifted a cookie to make it line up better with the rest of them. “Oh, don’t worry about that! I told him he could ‘help’ us run the event.” He winked and Glaedr chuckled.

“Shall I go grab him then? Guests should be arriving any moment.”

“Oh, yes!” Valentino slides past Glaedr to rush over to the window. He settles down into an untidy coil and expectantly looks out. Glaedr moves to retrieve Ville.

As he walks toward the back of the house to knock on Ville’s bedroom door, he hears a happy gasp from Valentino and the scrabbling sounds of Valentino trying to open the door. Glaedr simply shakes his head a little in amazement at the infinite energy of the Spiral.

Serana methodically moved stones from one pile to another and then back again. There’s no purpose to the motion, it’s simply something to do with her claws. The only sound in this area of the forest is the steady sound of her work.

click

click

click

Serana stops. It’s quiet. She looks around her. Misha’s not around. That would explain it. She returns to the stones again. When she turns to face the piles though, she’s faced instead with a small imp blinking at her. His face is unsettlingly passive.

“Yes?” Serana vocalizes out of surprise.

Shaed blinks again.

She moves to push him over away from her rocks, but he quickly slides away. It’s an odd little scrabble that he pulls off, but it gets him out of her range well enough. He places his head down and keeps staring.

“Well, as long as you’re quiet. I need the thinking time.”

Shaed blinks again and Serana chooses to simply take that as an affirmative. Perhaps this could work out. click. Quiet, compliant company was much preferable to... click. the other one. click. Besides, she needed to grow her clan eventually if she was to show her old one she could do better.

click click click

Serana looks at Shaed once more, curious whether he is still watching. His eyes flick up from the rocks to meet hers.

click

The eyes flick down again. It's kind of cute.

click

A small imperial dragon lies on his stomach in a nice, comfy grass patch. He stretches his forelimbs forward and opens his mouth wide into a yawn. As he begins to pull his legs back in toward his chest, he pauses, spotting a butterfly delicately perched on the blades of grass in front of him. He settles in the awkward semi-sprawled position and watches the creature curiously. As he focuses, his face naturally settles into something akin to a frown.

In fact, so concentrated is he upon this fluttery creature, that it comes as a complete shock to him when a clawed yellow foot lands in front of his view. His gaze quickly snaps up and he presses an annoyed expression over his surprised one.

The ridgeback returning his gaze speaks. “What is it?”

The imperial squeaks and makes a light shoving motion at the offending foot. Not wanting to be touched by this little nuisance, the ridgeback immediately slides her foot back. Unfortunately, the damage is already done. The butterfly is gone.

Heaving a deep sigh, the imperial rolls onto his back and covers his eyes.

“Hatchlings shouldn’t be out on their own. Where are your parents?”

The imperial didn’t uncover his eyes.

“I’m Serana. What is your name?”

Silence.

“Well, you are coming with me anyway until we find your parents.”

The imperial feels strong arms wrap around his body and hoist him up. He wriggles indignantly, but doesn’t really try to escape. He doesn’t care that much. Instead, he settles into a pout and lets Serana carry him off to goodness knows where.

Pinkerlocke Day 4/5

"Heeeeeey, Seraaaaaaana." Misha sauntered over, smiling for all the world like the cat who got the milk.

Serana looked askance at him, turning slowly to face him full on. "Yes?"

"Look what I found!" He pulls a ranger's cape out from behind his back with a flourish, presenting it to Serana.

"Rags?"

"Oh, come on, I know you like it!" Misha proceeds to twirl the cape around to rest on his shoulders, turning his head to look dramatically into the distance. There's silence for a few seconds before Misha speaks again. "How do I look?"

"Annoying"

"Really? Not like someone you'd want to raise a nest with?" A fake pout spreads across Misha's face.

"Not in a million years." Serana stops looking at him now, seemingly bored. A small smile almost begins to play at the corners of her mouth.

Misha laughs. "Alright, alright, I was just teasing. What's for dinner?"

Food, seafood - 30 to 40 battles in the coliseum

Well, I already have a casualty...

A/N: Hey I’m back and apparently doing a pinkerlocke! Maybe I’ll be providing regular content then :P I got lucky with my first pinkerlocke draw and get to write some intro lore. I think for these, I will be trying to involve whichever material I draw in the story!

Pinkerlocke day 1: material - do some writing

The agate sparkles. It's really quite innocent in this whole affair, but something needs to absorb all this anger and it can't be another dragon. No, that would be unseemly, improper.

Serana’s claws close roughly around the stone, which releases small, angry squeaks in response to the hard keratin scraping against it. The grasp is just barely light enough to leave the stone unmarred when she loosens her grip. She can’t bring herself to actually scratch up it’s perfect surface. It doesn’t deserve her ire. She brushes it up lightly, as though trying to polish it back up a bit.

“Ooooo, someone’s angry~”

Stifling a small grumble, Serana turns very slightly toward the source of the voice—a good distance down from her left shoulder. A pink bogsneak stretches his rosey runed face up toward her, trying to get a look at what’s in her grasp.

“Misha. Is there something you need?” Serana wonders out loud. She’s looking at him over her nose, hardly wanting to properly acknowledge him.

“Just telling you the vibes I’m getting from you. They’re not good.” Misha smiles up at her and Serana huffs.

“Thank you for the update.”

“You’re quite welcome!”

Serana doesn’t offer that question an answer, and switches tracks to a more “important” conversation. “I thought that clan was supposed to be welcoming of all types. Then they tell me maybe it would be better for everyone involved if I left.” Her gaze is fixed back on the agate. “What a load of lies.”

There’s fire in her gaze behind those shadowy eyes. Misha’s tail flips lightly back and forth as he shifts his weight between his four legs, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “You were too intense for them; they’re such a silly group. You’re better.”

“You left, too.”

Misha internally winced at the implied insult. “You might not believe this, but I do like you.”

“You would be right. I don’t believe you.”

The two dragons look in opposite directions into the forest. The second stretch into eternity and Misha begins to start sitting down when Serana speaks again, driving him to straighten back up. “I can do better.” Misha cocks his head at her in response.

Serana places a closed fist—palm downward—in the air, somewhere in the vicinity of Misha’s head. He automatically places his open palm—facing upward—a foot or so under. She opens up her fist slowly and a shiny stone comes tumbling out. Misha recognizes it as an Eye Agate when it tumbles into his palm and he closes his own claws gently around it.

“Take this. Come with me.” Serana’s tone implies no supplication. This is a command through and through.

“As you command, mistress~” Misha throws the stone up into the air and they both watch it arc back down into his palm before he quickly tucks it into a pouch on his side.

“… close enough.”

Leanna joined in wholeheartedly with the cheering of the crowd, smiling and throwing her friend a thumbs up when she looked over. Lorelle looked so pretty in her wedding dress. The cut wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but it cinched nicely at the waist and flowed down to the floor in waves that shimmered a light purple under the layer of white lace. Her hair had also been pinned up into a neat braid decorated with lilacs and other small flowers, courtesy of the garden Leanna and her friends Fern and Chunfeng tended. The makeup that Lorelle had on was light, but it brightened the blush on her cheeks and complemented her golden eyes. But what topped it all off was the beautiful smile that graced her bright, shining face. Draco was a lucky man indeed.

Speak of the devil, Draco had sidled up next to Leanna while she was distracted by Lorelle. “Hey Lea, I hope you’re having a nice time.”

Leanna was a bit startled, but she quickly recovered with an amused smile. “Shouldn’t that be my line to you?”

“Well you already know I’m having a marvelous time given you put so much effort into planning this wedding.” He punctuated the end of the sentence with a million megawatt smile, but this time Leanna was not phased.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Draco. Besides, you know the rest of the wedding crew helped me with this.”

Draco simply shrugged helplessly in response, bested once again by Leanna’s quick, but gentle, shutdown of his distraction. Not to be simply turned away though, he held out a glass of champagne for her. They both knew she wasn’t much of a drinker, but she also wasn’t one to turn down the offer in polite company and celebration. She nodded thankfully at him and gently grasped the stem of the glass as his hand fell away.

For a while, the two of them sipped at their respective drinks in silence, watching others gush over Lorelle or otherwise generally entertain themselves. At first Draco leaned lazily against the refreshment table. However, he began to fidget with one of the rings on his fingers. Never one with the patience for silence, Draco eventually spoke up. “You’ve planned so many weddings. You have a dream wedding of your own all thought out?”

Leanna stared meaningfully into her own glass, but there would be no answer down there. She glided her pointer finger around the edge of the glass as she answered, still resolutely looking down and not at Draco. “No, I like to tailor weddings to both of the members involved. I don’t think planning one out before I meet the person I’d walk down an aisle for is very prudent. Besides, I think I’ve still got time.”

“Ah.” Draco was not expecting such a serious answer. He shifted awkwardly back and forth.

Leanna laughed at him and his eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Where’s all that usual bravado of yours? Is it that weird for a person not to have their wedding day planned out all by themselves?”

“No, I just wasn’t expecting that answer from someone like you…” Draco winced a little bit at how bad that sounded out loud.

“Hm… I suppose I understand. I do enjoy planning these things, but I also like to tackle each situation as it comes. All I know for now is that when the time comes I’m going to make my wedding perfect for us.” As Leanna said this, she pressed her hands to her heart gently and turned to face Draco finally.

“”Well decided Lea, I knew there was a reason we picked you to head planning our wedding.” Draco winked over his glass as he took another sip of champagne.

It's still early morning and that meant much of the clan was still quiet, not yet had many of the members ventured out into the winter chill. This little corner of the clan was no different. Saffron gently sips at his tea while he's watching Canis and Surita sitting on the floor. The room is mostly silent aside from the crinkling sounds of the pair on the floor wrapping some presents. It's nice to be able to sit inside, away from the cold and just enjoy each others company.

When there comes a soft knock at the window, Saffron places his cup on the nearby table and turns to see who it is. Merc is waving at him and he looks back at her quizzically. She appears to be saying something, but he can't quite hear it clearly through the thick window pane. She sees he's still confused and gestures at the door. Oh! He had forgot that he had locked it. He walked over and deftly undid the shiny gold latch. It made a nice little clinking sound as he let it fall. When he went to push open the door, it was suddenly pulled wide open. Merc grabbed his shoulder. "Bring the other two!" She practically yells at him. She already looks annoyed at how long he took. As always.

He gently brushes off her shoulder and looks back at the two inside. "Surey? Cane? I believe Merc wants you two for something.

Surita and Canis finally look up from their work. Seeing their friend standing in the doorway looking like she's about to burst in... excitement? The two of them begin cleaning up a little before walking over. "Yes dear?" Surita prompts Merc to explain herself.

"Just come outside!" Merc once again fails to actually provide much useful information. Saffron sighs a little, more in amusement than annoyance, and grabs a couple of scarves which he hands out to the others before putting one on himself.

He makes sure to lock the door again once they all leave. When he turns back around, the other three had already moved off the porch and were all looking up at the sky. He followed them down and suddenly realized what they were looking at. He held out an arm and a dainty white snowflake landed on it. "Oh, I suppose this is a nice surprise."

"Of course it is!" Merc practically tackles him and he nearly falls to the ground, which only had a light dusting of snow at the moment and would not be fun to land on. "Now why don't we have some fun outside of the stuffy house!"

Tarifa clutched the already crumpled paper close to her chest. The once clean and crisp paper was soft and malleable now. The words on it were still clear though.

“You’re invited!” a time, and an address. The letter was much more intricate than the message it contained. It appeared to have been carefully hand-decorated with gold painting that twisted and ensnared Tarifa’s mind.

The place she arrived at was much more humble than the letter was. It was only a small village with pretty little homes. Flower garlands had been draped around carefully as decoration. It was quaint and not intimidating, but Tarifa was still concerned about whether she had been invited by accident.

She waited patiently outside the grove to see if anybody would come out for what was probably going to be a party of some kind.

It was slow, but eventually people started trickling in, some were dressed casually in sweaters and hoodies, others were dressed to the nines. The latter group seemed to glare at each other a lot, as though in a constant competition. Tarifa kept her distance from them.

While keeping an eye out for the more competitive group of people, Tarifa accidentally tripped over her own skirt. Her hands flew out to catch her, but instead of hitting the ground, they hit someone else in the back. The person reached back and grabbed her wrist gently. Tarifa just stared at the ground, not wanting to look them in the eye.

“Well, that’s certainly one way to greet someone.”

Tarifa’s breathe whooshed out in relief at the fact this person didn’t seem to be mad. She lifted her head to say something, but stopped again when she saw a well kept man in a nice pressed suit standing before her... a very handsome man... His smile shown like the sun across a patch of meadow, warm and inviting but not overpowering. His eyes were also a disarming turquoise, he really did those lightning eyes justice... Then she looked to his side... and saw his equally beautiful girlfriend.

“Apollo, sweetie, we were on our way to talk to Ardeur and Fiero.” The lady tugged at his arm slightly and made a pouty face.

“Of course, Artemis. Sorry, I got distracted.” He immediately turned his attention back to his girlfriend and Tarifa fully expected to be ignored when they began walking away.

Then Apollo glanced back at Tarifa. It was so fast Tarifa was sure she was deluding herself. She was gangly and awkward looking, thin and generally slightly unkempt. Artemis was practically a goddess and Apollo was equally stunning.

She enjoyed the rest of her time at the party and was pleasantly surprised when the clan leaders told her they had invited her on purpose to offer her permanent residence at the clan. Apparently advertising her impending move away from her old clan had helped.

Tarifa left the party smiling to herself. She was prepared to go back to her old home, pack, and leave as soon as possible. She turned to take one good look at her to be home before leaving the area and when she did, Apollo waved at her. Artemis next to him looked at her suspiciously. She shot back a cocky smile, which she shocked herself with as well. Artemis looked absolutely scandalized and Apollo appeared somewhat confused.

A/N: Backstory on my progen/the old leader of the clan

Quietly, Rala sat in the corner of the clan, hands clasped gently in her lap, waiting. For what? For someone to call her to do something. She spent much of her time like this. She simply wasn’t one to initiate... conversations, actions, relationships. She preferred the passive role and didn’t mind all the waiting that might involve.

The others were paying less and less attention to her though. It seemed the clan grew more full of sick travelers and runaways everyday.

A person rushed by, carrying a bleeding blanket. The person was going fast her tangled mat of hair actually fluttered in their direction. Rala’s head lifted slightly in response and she blinked, watching the person duck into the newest temporary medical tent. Leisurely, Rala stood up, dusting off her skirt gently before following her way into the tent.

The inside of the tent was much different from the open outside. The humidity and sound made her want to curl up on the floor and wait for it to quiet down... but she knew that wouldn’t work. She did, however, close her eyes and stop to take a deep breathe.

In the middle of the breathe, Rala suddenly felt a sharp pain in her right hand. Her eyes shot open to see a small cut across the back of her hand, probably from a slightly careless doctor with a scalpel. Shocked, she froze in place.

She wasn’t sure how much later this was, but she eventually felt a warm hand at her back, guiding her out of the tent softly, but with conviction. Neither of them said anything, it was all Rala could do to not trip.

Once outside, the assuring hand left her and Rala found herself looking at a slowly reddening sky. The calming sight caused her to snap out of her stupor. She quickly turned to catch a glimpse of her savior, but they had already disappeared back into the tent.

Rala had always been nervous about going into the tent. She thought it was because she would be afraid of what she saw, but no... She was afraid of her reaction, of realizing that she would be entirely useless at the very thing her clan placed the most stock in: the ability to heal any that came by.

Being a child, she had been exempt from any actual work until now. It was always small things like gathering herbs and keeping the patients who would be leaving soon some company if they asked for it. Soon though... they would realize she was more of a burden they needed. Everybody was expected to leave eventually... The clans members were constantly changing, people came by, put in some time, and would leave. She would have to as well.

It took Cashmere a while to understand Swift’s way of speaking and it still made him uncomfortable for some reason. Nevertheless, he continued to let Swift do his thing. He just wasn’t sure why…

~~~

“Love, could you hand me that spoon?” Swift asked, his hand reaching out vaguely toward the silverware drawer Cashmere was standing next to.

Unfortunately, this incident was not too many days after they had met, so Cashmere was pretty thrown off by Swift’s casual way of throwing out endearments. He… Well, he panicked. “Um, what?? I don’t.” Cashmere just stuttered and babbled for a while.

“Dear?” Swift said with a little concern tinging the edges of his voice. This secondary endearment did not help Cashmere’s situation.

~~~

Honestly, the whole situation only got more and more embarrassing and Cashmere didn’t like to think about it too often. But… the way Swift said the words still made Cashmere feel all warm inside, so he didn’t quite lock the situation away in the depths of his mind. In fact, it was feeling kind of warm in the room right now… maybe he should take off the extra cashmere vest he wore at all times.

“Cashy~~” Oh gosh. “I need help loosening my embouchure. Could you help me after practice?”

In his mind, Cashmere was screaming, but outwardly he looked at Swift with a questioning look. At least he thought it was a questioning look; In reality his face was shifting between mild interest and some kind of disgust.

“What do you think of that one? I just heard it today!” Ugh, Swift’s penchant for cheesy pickup lines really confused Cashmere. What did it all mean? Honestly, if he could just be a little more clear cut about it, it would really help.

~~~

“You know, flutes aren’t the only thing I can blow.” As time went on and Cashmere got used to Swift’s normal brand of soft flirting and cute winks, Swift kind of kicked it up a notch.

Although initially shocked, Cashmere quickly recovered and snapped back “You’ve only been playing for less than a year. I doubt you’re that good.” After realizing what he said, Cashmere covered his face with his hands.

Swift whistled lowly, “Love, I knew you were snappy, but don’t go breaking my heart like that.”

“I, uh…. I gotta go practice.” Cashmere left so suddenly that Swift sat in silence for some time. He was only vaguely aware of the ticking clocks that so enchanted him the first time--he was more interested in the exchange that just occurred. Did Cashmere not like him? Had he misinterpreted?

~~~

“Hey, sorry about… earlier.” Cashmere awkwardly crossed and uncrossed his arms as he stood in front of Swift.

Swift had been reading a book about the Victorian era (okay, fine, he was looking at the pictures) when Cashmere interrupted. He slowly lowered, closed, and placed it on the table beside him. “Cashmere, can we confer?” Uh oh, this sounded serious… and what happened to the nicknames?

“Sure, I guess….” Cashmere had a feeling he didn’t want to hear whatever Swift was about to say.

“I think I make you uncomfortable… and that feels very rude of me considering this is your home more than mine-”

“You’re wrong.” Cashmere coughed slightly as Swift stared at him uncertainly. “This is… your home, too.” That was close.

“Right…” This felt way more awkward than Swift wanted it to. Just say the words, you fool! “I’ll leave you alone from now on.” Swift got up to leave without warning, head lowered and book clasped tightly in his right hand.

“Wait!” Cashmere had called out without thinking, reaching to turn Swift around in the process. What was he doing?? “I don’t want you out of my life.” Suddenly, things started clicking in his head. “It… does make me uncomfortable when you flirt at me, but that’s because I can’t tell whether you… mean it. It feels like you’re using me as a test subject more than anything else.”

Tentatively, Swift reached wrapped his arms around Cashmere, who paused thoughtfully before holding him in kind and shoving his head into the curve of Swift’s neck. “I don’t know exactly how I feel yet, but I know it makes me upset thinking about never talking to you again… I think that I do want to try, well, us? If that’s okay with you of course.” Swift lifted Cashmere’s head off his shoulder so he could read his expression.

“That sounds great, but on one condition.”

“Uhhh…”

“Never call me Cashy again.”

“No promises; I think it’s cute.” Swift gave Cashmere a crooked smile and Cashmere sighed in acceptance.

“Good enough for now.” Cashmere immediately turned to leave, but Swift reached out and tilted Cashmere’s head slightly. Their lips met in a chaste kiss, more of a brushing of the lips to be honest and Cashmere’s face went absolutely red when Swift winked and walked backwards out of the room… tripping on a table before he managed to get out of the room.