For two weeks straight he dreamt that he was meeting a little boy. The child had red-brown hair and dark eyes and laughed when he saw Dorian. He would launch himself at Dorian, hug him tightly around the waist and say how much he’d missed his brother. It varied more after that, sometimes they’d play and Dorian would be able to think he’d just dreamed about having a little brother- But sometimes they went flying and spat fire. Sometimes they looked down on battlefields and wiped armies away with a roar. Fill for the Kink Meme prompt 'Dorian is an Old God reincarnated.'

"You turned," Adaar said, "into a fucking dragon." It was good that she said it, because someone should, and to be honest the Bull was feeling a bit beyond actual words at that exact moment. "A small dragon," Dorian said, as though this was somehow relevant. He was quite a small dragon, it was true—he stared down at them now, but most of that height was the arch of his neck, the curve of it covered in shimmering black and gold scales. "A small dragon! Who saved your life!"