Dazzlebite

Dazzlebite is very flirty and outgoing. He's a dancer, and is very active. He's a choreographer for the musical theatre at the University, and a burlesque (boylesque, if you will) dancer in the evenings.

Many people assume Starscythe and Dazzlebite are having an affair as they are sometimes seen together, and have been spotted together in dark corners of clubs and bars, and upon spotting wedding rings, people always assume the worst. The truth is, they are married to each other, but they enjoy the mystery and taunting concerned busybodies.


Many people have theorized about Dazzlebite's scars. Some dragons have heard that they are from an old dance teacher of his, who clawed the students who didn't perform well enough. However, it is well known that Dazzlebite won many awards for his dancing when he was younger. A few dragons say they were simply from an accident when a beam crashed down during a rehearsal of the musical Death of a Salesfae. Yet others insist that he received them while doing something foolish as a hatchling, like attempting to fly a bit too high for a tiny dragon aand crashing down in exhaustion. A few brave students have questioned him about them, but have regretted it soon after upon seeing his usually cheerful demeanor turn cold. He always refuses to answer, and often cancels class early, much to his paying students' chagrin. They have since learned to ignore the scars and accept that they may never have confirmation as to what truly happened to him.


Art by Me (Winterelle)


Art by Sikaigo!


Art by eatflan


Art by Wingedness


Art by Capitalism


Art by vojir


Art by toxietoxie


Art by char1ie

Story by Vilte
Dazzlebite tapped a staccato rhythm on the ground with one foot. They were still debating. He was trying to be patient, he really was, but this was ridiculous. He had had rehearsals that didn’t last as long as this “quick conversation”. He tried distracting himself, humming all of the tunes from the upcoming theater show. The crew danced across his vision, and–ugh. He was sure the pirouettes had not looked that out of place when he first choreographed the dance. He made a mental note to make adjustments on Monday.
One two-hour mental show later, Starscythe was still talking. He tugged gently on her sleeve. “Love…”
“Not now darling. Five minutes, I promise.”
“That’s what you said half an hour ago…” he grumbled, but she was far to engaged.
“No, no, no. The Stormcatcher’s valuing of labor over life leaves no room for the weak, elderly, ill, or otherwise ‘inefficient’. And instructing those dragons that they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps and find a way to become more productive is a paradox that places the burden on those that most need assistance…”
The words made no sense to him. He let them blur in his mind, leaving only the melody of the speech, the rhythmic beat of stressed syllables. That pattern is still drumming in his mind when he finally manages to pull her away from the debate. And as he holds her close, happy to finally have her to himself again, he kisses the staccato of her speech into her skin.