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buzzkillchainsaw · 2 months

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If I were to write a WOF book arc - feat. Datura, Sidewinder, Pearl, Tetra & No-one (first draft)

Indulge me for a second. It's gonna be a long second (18 pages in Google docs), so please sit down comfortably and read this if you really have time to spare. Each "book" gets progressively longer. This is your last warning. Enjoy!

Book 1: Ice

Mandatory reading: X

The arc would start with Ice and her backstory, detailing how she grew up hidden away in the Icewing kingdom. How she lost her mother to a clueless Icewing guard and how she discovered and developed her animus powers with Icebreaker's, ahem, help. There would be moments shown between Ice and Icebreaker, as the Queen would sit down with the dragonet and personally train her, making her perform grueling tasks to the point of blood and tears. Afterwards, she would strangely switch up her behavior and act kind and loving so Ice would gravitate towards her again, now that Icebreaker was her only parental figure and source of comfort.

The prologue would end right at the moment where Ice’s glowing blue shackles snapped shut and sealed her magic away, only able to cast spells if the Queen allowed it. The main purpose of this part would be to establish Icebreaker's motives and present her as a threatening antagonist for the arc. It would also paint her as a horrible, irredeemable person (dragon?).

A little time jump later we see Ice still shackled, all alone in her room. Icebreaker and a few Icewings enter and Ice is ordered to give each enough magic to cast one spell. Ice complies, because she doesn’t have much of a choice anyways. The chains stop glowing as her magic is unsealed for just that specific spell. She touches each Icewing, but hesitates at the last one. He looks familiar somehow, but she can’t put her finger on it. His face doesn’t give it away either, he’s staring ahead blankly. She goes through with it and everyone leaves the room. Later, the door suddenly opens again and Ice is surprised to see someone who’s not Icebreaker - it’s the familiar Icewing from before! He introduces himself as Tern, Ice’s father. Ice doesn’t know what to feel. She doesn’t remember him at all because Icebreaker forbade him from seeing Mesa, Ice’s mother, once Ice showed signs of magic - mere weeks after hatching, Tern explains. The only reason he was even allowed to see Ice today to get magic was probably because Icebreaker was so caught up in her extraordinary war plans that she simply forgot about his involvement. He also explains how he even ended up marrying Mesa in the first place. How Icebreaker purposefully made the captive Mesa as miserable as possible and then “accidentally” introduced her to Tern (who was kind and meek and disgustingly weak by Icewing standards, which made him Icebreaker’s least liked son). Tern of course felt bad for Mesa and tried to cheer her up in any way he could - netting Icebreaker’s approval. And so, they started talking, spending time with each other and one thing led to another. Ice is taken aback and disgusted by this story. Knowing that her mere existence was just another one of Icebreaker’s manipulations horrified her, but even more horrifying was Ice’s and Tern’s involvement in her mother’s fate. If they never existed, maybe Mesa would still be alive. Tern points out that Mesa left Ice behind during her escape, but Ice doesn’t want to hear it: Mesa had every right to run from this horrible situation. Tern understands her anger and asks what he can do to redeem himself. “Helping me escape would be a start”, Ice scoffs. Tern complies and uses his ice breath on the chain keeping her tethered to the wall, freezing the chain plate to a point where the metal shatters easily after he smashes it with a rock. However, the chains are still intact, still glowing blue and the spell isn't broken.

They flee together through the halls of the castle, alarmed guards right behind them. In a crucial moment, Tern turns back to distract the guards, allowing his daughter to narrowly escape the palace. Ice runs alone through an unbearably cold storm, her half Sandwing body barely holding itself together in the extreme temperatures. She tries flying, but the winds are too strong and her muscles are too weak from all these years she was stuck in the palace. Her arms are weighed down by the glowing blue chains dragging between her legs as she walks, a constant reminder of what Icebreaker took from her. An Icewing patrol flies above to search for her, so Ice dives into soft snow and lets the storm bury her until she can no longer hear the wing flaps of the soldiers. Only a miracle (or perhaps her Icewing half) keeps her from losing limbs to frostbite. The stars shine above as she slowly reaches a warmer climate. The snow beneath her aching feet turns to rocks, then to sand. In the dead of night, Ice reaches the Sandwing kingdom. Standing on top of a dune, the silhouette of her mother.

Book 2: Datura

Mandatory reading: 1 , 2

The next book would start with Datura's backstory and showcase her relationship with her sister. After Queen Taipan's poisoning, Sidewinder would assume the role as replacement Queen until Taipan "was back to normal". Tensions arise in the Sandwing kingdom over this decision, especially with the threat of Icebreaker's seemingly unstoppable magic army looming over them. Sidewinder and Datura argue, which results in Datura being banished from the Sandwing kingdom. She is thrown out by reluctant guards with only her glasses to protect her from the sun.

She stays in the castle's shadow until the evening, enduring her sister's taunts from above. Sidewinder even throws a piece of Datura's veil from the balcony, hoping to watch her scramble to pick it up and put it on. Datura doesn't move. As the hours pass, Sidewinder begins to regret her decision. She realizes that she has no allies left, everyone in the castle doubts her and even thinks that she poisoned Taipan to get the crown. But just as she's about to look for Datura, she finds that her sister has disappeared along with the setting sun.

In the night, Datura would run into a strange Icewing with familiar black eyes and glowing shackles. After an awkward moment of being mistaken for the Icewing's mother, Datura listens to her story and finds out that Ice is trying to find a way to get rid of the shackles to stop Icebreaker, which makes the Sandwing perk up. She asks Ice to relay exactly what she said when she cast the spell.

"I enchant these unbreakable shackles to prevent any dragon wearing them from casting any spell, unless the Queen allows it."

Datura points out that Ice didn't specify Queen Icebreaker, so theoretically any Queen should be able to give permission. She then, reluctantly, tells Ice about her own situation and agrees to ask Sidewinder, the current "replacement Queen" to try and allow Ice to cast spells. In return, Ice would use her animus powers to heal Taipan. It’s a good plan. They travel to the Sandwing stronghold and Datura infiltrates it, leaving a note for Sidewinder asking her to meet up in one of their secret childhood playing spots. Sidewinder, overjoyed that her sister has returned, immediately leaves to find her. But as soon as Ice and the plan to free her is revealed, Sidewinder feels betrayed and accuses Datura of having become a spy for the Icewings. Giving Ice her magic back would only make the Icewings even stronger, after all. Datura and Ice try to clear up the misunderstanding, but Sidewinder sounds the alarm and the two of them flee.

Ice and Datura conclude that their plan needs some work, as they can't just waltz up to a random Queen and ask her to reactivate an enemy kingdom's magic soldier maker. Maybe an even stronger animus than Ice could just override her spell with their magic and free her? Datura remembers reading about powerful Seawing animus dragons and suggests asking around in the Seawing kingdom for help. Ice thinks that it wouldn't work and wants to try asking other Queens first, really fixated on Datura's interpretation of the spell. Maybe the Rainwings were more laid back and wouldn't care about the possible implications of freeing Ice (and, let's be honest, they'd be too stupid to comprehend the consequences anyway). Datura retorts that they have no idea if asking "a Queen" would even work and not be a huge waste of time again (like the fiasco with Sidewinder, which she blames herself for). And time is the last thing they can waste right now, with Icebreaker's army on the horizon. Ice is convinced, but at least wants to try the Rainwings before throwing in the towel. They begin to journey eastwards.

In a quiet moment, Datura asks Ice what magic feels like and if the rumors about losing your soul are true. Ice doesn't know, she doesn't feel that much different than before. Before Icebreaker and her experiments. Obviously she's terrified of turning into a soulless monster. But she also points out that it was Icebreaker who seemed more and more unhinged with each enchantment she forced Ice to do, as if the damage fell upon her soul, not Ice's. But who knows, really. All that matters now is that Ice gets her magic back and stops Icebreaker before it's too late. Too late for whom? She doesn't elaborate.

Book 3: Pearl

Mandatory reading: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

The third book would start with Pearl's backstory, her meeting with Tetra and her eventual escape from Lamprey. Her and Tetra want to see the world together, but also find a way to cure Tetra's wing. They swim together until they reach a river that spills into the sea. This would be the only chance for Pearl to see the surface world while staying in the water. Tetra helps Pearl, who isn't a strong swimmer, to swim upstream until they reach a calmer part of the river. It's very difficult, but they manage to do it. Tetra remarks that she could just construct a harness out of grass and vines and fly, pulling Pearl along with her in the water. However, her wing is still badly injured. The two dragonets take a break, frustrated and tired. If only there was an easy fix to this situation ... Tetra suddenly remembers her father telling her a bedtime story about magic dragons called "animi" and suggests finding one to cure her wing. In the same breath, she excitedly says "and maybe they could cure you too, Pearl!" Pearl is taken aback by this, as she hasn't really considered herself in need of "curing". Sure, her inability to breathe air on land has made their journey difficult, but this is the way she was born. Should she really change such an integral part of herself with magic? Still, she nods in feigned excitement. She figures that she could still have time to think and maybe say no if they actually met one of those magic dragons. If.

The two kids continue making their way upstream, dealing with lots of difficulties, but always finding a way to make it work together. Suddenly, they run into two strange dragons. The dragons introduce themselves as Ice and Datura and tell the two kids that they're on the lookout for an animus and a Queen. Tetra excitedly proclaims that her and Pearl need an animus too and Ice reveals that she is one, but currently cannot cast spells until a "Queen" allows her to. Pearl, who cannot speak or understand "air-breather" language, is slightly put off by everyone talking over her and while she has no idea what's going on. Tetra tries her best to translate, but as soon as she flashes the words "They're looking for a Queen" in aquatic, Pearl feels terror and fear course through her body, visions of Lamprey and the cult swirling in her mind. The other dragons notice her trembling, and Datura tries approaching her to calm her down, but without Tetra's translation Pearl assumes that this huge terrifying dragon is trying to capture her. The misunderstanding gets resolved thanks to Tetra's quick thinking - speaking "air-breather" language to Datura and aquatic to Pearl at the same time to explain the situation.

Pearl agrees to try to free Ice, but doesn't tell Tetra about her doubts with the whole "curing Pearl" part. The group gathers and Pearl formally and regally tells Ice that she is allowed to cast spells - in aquatic. Nothing happens. Tetra translates her words into "air-breather" language, but it still doesn't work. The chains remain as they were, Ice is still sealed. Ice is distraught, because this is yet another "Queen" that "didn't work". As soon as Tetra (hesitantly) translates this, Pearl is overcome by anger. What was her stupid role as a "Queen" even for, if it couldn't even help one single dragon? She tells Tetra in aquatic to say the words again in "air-breather", and the little blue dragon complies. Pearl, with all her might, sticks her head far out of the water, breathes in the air and tries to replicate the sounds. However, all that comes out is painful gurgling and choking. Ice, realizing that this poor little dragonet was hurting herself because of Ice's outburst, leaps forward and splashes Pearl with a wave of water, knocking her over and causing her to slip back underwater. Pearl isn't too pleased, but remembers how Tetra had done the same that night on the beach and concludes that Ice just wanted to help. But Pearl also just wanted to help. She feels awful every time she sees Tetra wince and grimace after the slightest movement of her broken wing. She asks what she should do now. The other three dragons are quiet, thinking. Datura perks up and asks the two dragonets if they could look for an animus dragon in the Seawing kingdom, perhaps in the royal court, while her and Ice would look for the Rainwing Queen. Pearl is unsure about going back into the same ocean she just fled from. But she also knows that the entire continent is at stake. After all, from what she heard about Icebreaker, that Icewing was probably planning to freeze the oceans with magic in her pursuit of the “perfect ice kingdom”. And then, Pearl and Tetra would have nowhere to run anyways. Pearl agrees, and Tetra agrees too. Datura continues with her plan: No matter if successful or not, the two parties would meet up again during the upcoming full moon in a safe harbor between the Seawing and Rainwing kingdom. The group agrees and prepares to go to sleep and leave early tomorrow. Pearl finds a calm pocket of water in the river with not too much flow and falls asleep, dreaming of her mother.

Book 4: Tetra

The next book would be in Tetra's point of view as she sits around a small fire with Datura and Ice, on that very same evening. Tetra asks Ice what an animus is actually capable of and if one could even cure Pearl's condition and make her breathe air on land just like all the other Seawings. Ice shrugs and says "Couldn't see why not", but Datura questions whether Pearl actually wants to be "cured" of the way she was born. After all, Datura has a similar problem of being burnt by the sun because of her skin, but she never thought about asking an animus for different skin. Tetra retorts that she wants her own wing to be cured so she can fly again, so why shouldn't Pearl wish to be able to breathe on land? Datura is unsure of what the right answer is, but tells her to ask Pearl before doing anything. Tetra reluctantly agrees, but is still sure that her view of the problem is correct. Or is she? Datura's words had put doubt into her mind.

In the morning, Tetra goes to find Pearl, who appears to be less enthusiastic about following through with the plan than she seemed yesterday. Pearl says that she thought about it and is worried that going to the royal court might be dangerous, because her existence alone would probably be treason in the actual Seawing Queen's eyes. Tetra hurriedly looks for a reason to bring Pearl along anyway and says nobody has to know about Pearl's identity, she can just use another name while they're there. Besides, the Seawings and their Queen wouldn't listen to just one dragon's words, Pearl would be an additional witness and could confirm that Tetra was saying the truth. Even better, Tetra remarks, while they're there, they sleuth around for Pearl's mother. It will be fun! Pearl reluctantly agrees, convinced by Tetra's last argument but still worried about the potential dangers of entering Seawing territory. There is also a lingering fear of running into Lamprey again, but that would be impossible, wouldn't it?

They embark on their way to the Seawing kingdom. Pearl enjoys swimming more and more and feels herself becoming stronger. Tetra is excited for her, but feels weighed down by her doubts about the whole "curing" thing. She is about to finally break down and just ask Pearl directly, when the two kids are suddenly ambushed by a Seawing patrol who are looking for a dragonet that fits Pearl's description. When questioned why, they don't answer. The two kids try swimming away, but Tetra's hurt wing slows her down and Pearl turns around to wait for her, causing both to get captured. They try to deny that the patrol found who they were looking for, until one of the soldiers reveals that the dragonet in question cannot breathe air. One grabs a protesting Tetra while another snatches Pearl and quickly swims upward with her, leaping out of the water and letting her dangle in the air. Tetra watches helplessly while Pearl tries her best to pretend to breathe, but she starts choking quickly while calling for her mother in aquatic. Satisfied, the soldiers dump her back into the water and prepare to make their way back to the palace. Tetra tries to explain why they were here and why finding an animus was extremely important for everyone's safety, but the soldiers tell her to shut up and that a stupid kid has nothing to say worth listening to. Tetra realises that her assumption that anyone would hear them out was childish and not only put Pearl's life in danger, but the entire continent as well.

They arrive at the Seawing palace and are dragged before the Queen. The very same Queen that had sent Tetra's father to his death by drafting him into war. To both Tetra's and Pearl's surprise, a badly injured Lamprey is lounging in the throne room and the Queen asks him if "this" (pointing at Pearl), "is her". Lamprey says yes, with a proudly puffed out chest and malice radiating from his eyes. He is promptly taken away, while some other soldiers drag Pearl along with them. Tetra screams at them to not put Pearl into a cage and to not let Lamprey anywhere near her, but nobody acknowledges her. Finally, the Queen's eyes set on her. Queen Agate of the Seawings asks Tetra who she is, where she came from and what she is doing here with "that", nodding into the direction Pearl was taken away. Tetra answers truthfully, explaining every detail from the first time she met Pearl to the moment the soldiers caught them after they split up with Datura and Ice. The Queen's eyes shift, and she asks for clarification. Datura, the current Sandwing Queen's daughter? Really? Tetra realizes that she had said something of interest and elaborates, embellishing the actual deepness of her friendship with Datura a little. Yes, Datura was banished by Sidewinder, whom everyone considers to be unworthy anyway, so it doesn't really count. Besides, the goal was to get Ice to cure Taipan, and Taipan would surely take Datura's side after seeing the disaster Sidewinder's incompetence caused. And Datura would surely tell her mother about the cause and gain the entire Sandwing kingdom's support. The Queen nods and proclaims that she needs time to think and to send Tetra "somewhere safe" in the meantime. Tetra asks if she would see Pearl again, but again, no one acknowledges her.

She is locked into a barren room with not much inside, so she sits down in front of the door, peeping through the keyhole to try and catch something, anything of interest. Finally some soldiers pass by, and Tetra can briefly see one flashing "...and the traitor will be executed..." at the other in aquatic. She panics and throws herself against the door, claws at the walls and whirls around the room like a tornado – in vain. Tetra finally sits down and cries until the soldiers come back to get her.

She is taken before the Queen again, encountering a familiar sight: Pearl, on the one side of the throne, held down by guards. Lamprey, on the other side, with some guards behind him. The Queen in the middle, staring Tetra right in the eyes. She then turns to Lamprey and tells him to state his case, again.

"My name is Lamprey", he says, "and I have simply been misguided. I was told that this dragonet", he points to Pearl, "was actually the true heir to the throne, so I believed it. I am but a humble servant of the Seawing kingdom and I would hate to see it threatened by a traitor trying to get her grubby fingers all over the throne that rightfully belongs to yours truly, Queen Agate."

"He's lying!", Tetra flashes as brightly as she can, but only earns a sharp look from Queen Agate.

"And so, I watched as this false Queen accumulated a horde of poor, misguided souls and fed them lies about the kingdom. She preyed on the weak-minded, convincing them that staying in the ocean would be the best course of action, just so she could feel better about her unfortunate disability." Lamprey wipes away an invisible tear, underwater. "I only snapped out of her manipulation after she ordered her followers to attack me and I have been nothing but truthful with you ever since, your highness. I gave your soldiers the locations of each site of worship as well as the names of every dragon who participated in this farce. It is truly an unfortunate situation, my Queen, yet I will trust your judgement when it comes to that little traitor."

Silence. "I have made my decision", the Queen says. "Your are correct, Lamprey, the traitor must indeed be dealt with. " She looks at Pearl and flicks her tail, and before anyone can react, one of the Seawing guards raises a dagger and stabs Lamprey in the back. Surprised, he whips around with his mouth wide open, producing a cloud of blood. "You have mistaken my kindness for stupidity, Lamprey," the Queen continues, "You have been, for years, actively gathering an enemy faction seeking to depose me. Yet you seem to think that simply offering me the very same pawns you created would make me forgive and forget your crimes." Lamprey fights against the blade in his flesh and attempts to lunge towards the Queen, but is held back by her soldiers. The Queen comes closer and stares down at him. "I'm old, Lamprey, but not senile. And did you seriously think I wouldn't recognize Sixgill's daughter?" And with that, Lamprey is gone and his limp body is taken away. Pearl and Tetra, stricken by fear and confusion, stand there like statues.

The Queen turns to them and announces her decision: Tetra will to go to the meeting point and take Datura and Ice to Queen Agate, who would not only attempt to allow Ice to use her magic, but also gather the animus dragons in the royal court to break the spell if her word alone wouldn't suffice. Of course, Tetra's hurt wing would also be taken care of. In return, Datura must agree to take over leadership in the Sandwing kingdom, kill Sidewinder if she resists and then enter an alliance with the Seawing kingdom. With Ice freed, the two kingdoms would then lead a joint attack on Icebreaker's forces and amicably split the spoils of war between them. Ice must agree to take away the Icewings' magic and then make a magical swear to never cast magic against any Seawing. To ensure Tetra, Datura and Ice would follow this plan, Pearl would stay with the Seawing Queen until every condition of her pact was fulfilled. Besides, she wouldn't be much of use on the surface anyway. Tetra perks up, remembering her idea to cure Pearl, while Pearl seems to become smaller and smaller. The Queen gives Tetra one of her lavishly engraved and decorated armbands as proof of her goodwill, a huge thing that the small dragonet wears like a necklace. "And since you have personally witnessed what I do to those who betray me", the Queen finishes, "I trust that you will fulfill your end of the bargain swiftly and efficiently." Tetra nods, confused, excited, happy and scared at the same time. She is unsure whether she can trust Queen Agate after what she did to break apart her family, but right now, Pearl and the future of the entire continent is more important. Tetra is allowed to say goodbye to Pearl and promises her to come back soon and "fix everything". Pearl too gives her one of her armbands, this time it perfectly fits around Tetra's wrist. She is then escorted to the shore by Seawing soldiers.

Book 5: No-one

Mandatory reading: X

This book would start out with a very short flashback of No-one being tested with the candle and swapping places with the other hatchling, dooming them to death.

It would then jump forward in time to No-one, now appearing to be a Rainwing, hanging out at the edge of the Rainwing territory. He notices an Icewing wearing glowing shackles and a pale Sandwing accompanying her. Curious about the clearly animus-touched chains, he decides to follow them. He overhears them talking about needing to find the Rainwing Queen. Sensing an opportunity to grant some wishes, he decides to take off his earring to reveal himself as not only a Skywing, but also an animus. His instinct was right: Datura the Sandwing immediately asks him to try and break the spell on the chains with desperation in her voice. The Icewing on the other hand eyes him with distrust. No-one reveals the nature of his contract to grant a wish. Datura and Ice are taken aback, with Ice even saying how "evil" this was. Their loss, No-one says, he's not dependent on them. But they certainly are dependent on him. He asks why they wanted to visit the Rainwing Queen. Begrudgingly they tell him the rest of the story. He watches Datura closely whenever it's Ice's turn to explain and tries copying what she does: furrowing his brows at the bad parts, widening his eyes at the surprising parts and shaking his head whenever Datura does. As soon as they're done explaining, he offers to take them to the Queen in his Rainwing appearance and ask her to break Ice's spell. On one condition: once they realize that the whole ordeal was a waste of time because the spell simply won't be broken, they will make a wish with No-one. They agree, partly because of No-one's perceived confidence that he will be able to break the spell. In reality, he isn't sure at all how this will turn out. He just wants to hang around with Datura some more.

Appearing as a Rainwing, he guides the two dragons through the Rainwing kingdom, curiously watched by a few real Rainwings, but mostly ignored. Once they reach the Queen, Ice and Datura are shocked about the Rainwing custom of just letting anyone who wants to be Queen fulfill the role for a month. Still, they continue with No-one's plan. The current Queen, a spunky young Rainwing named Bloom, greets them (after they've waited in line long enough). No-one tells Bloom that Ice is an animus who will grant her a wish once her magic chains are gone. All Bloom needs to do is tell her that she's allowed to cast spells. Bloom is excited, but quickly finds that she can't decide on a wish: She wants a flower necklace that changes colors to match her scales, she wants an earring that will whisper to her where the best sun spots are, she also wants a magic satchel that will always contain the most delicious fruit whenever she reaches into it. One wish just wouldn't be enough! No-one, knowing Bloom's love for bets and games, tells her that Ice will grant all her wishes, but only on the condition that Bloom wins against Ice, Datura and No-one in a series of Rainwing games. If Bloom loses, she will only get one wish. In a sense, Bloom cannot lose at all, since she will get at least one wish granted in either outcome! Ice gets increasingly more agitated as No-one keeps deciding these things over her head. Bloom thinks for a moment, glances at Ice's chains and Datura's rigid looking Sandwing body and finally agrees. The games, clearly hand picked by Bloom to disadvantage Ice and Datura as much as possible, begin. They try to work together to win, but Ice's chains keep getting caught on every branch while climbing and Datura's wings are just too huge to beat Bloom in a gliding race through the dense rainforest. Only No-one, using his animus magic to cheat, narrowly secures the win. Ice and Datura notice, but decide to keep quiet. Bloom is disappointed but keeps up her end of the bargain, formally announcing that Ice is allowed to cast spells again. It doesn't work. Ice breaks down, unable to accept yet another failure. She screams that it obviously didn't work because Bloom isn't a real Queen since anyone can just become Rainwing Queen for a month. Three moons, why don't they try making a sloth Queen next? Or maybe a chewed-on mango? This angers Bloom and the other Rainwings. “And how come your system is the correct one?”, she naps back. “How is murdering your own family to become Queen any better, huh?” No-one tries to diffuse the situation but ultimately, the trio has to leave the kingdom.

On their way out, Ice tells No-one that she wants to make a wish with him to break the spell. Datura protests, pointing out that No-one will damage her already hurt soul even further, but Ice does not care and wants to go through with it again. Datura interjects again, saying that she will instead make a wish for No-one to heal her poisoned mother, Taipan. Taipan is, for all intents and purposes, a real Queen. No technicalities, no strange Rainwing customs, no nonsense. Ice objects, not wanting Datura to sell her soul for her. After all, Ice is too far gone anyways. Isn't it obvious? After her last outburst that would've gotten them killed if the Rainwings were just a little bit more like the other dragon tribes? Ice's soul is crumbling, so one more enchantment won't make much of a difference. Datura looks to No-one for support, but he has no idea what to say. But for some reason, he really wants Datura to think highly of him, so he agrees with her argument: They will first try Taipan and only then let No-one attempt to break the spell with Ice's appearance. But before any of that, Datura remarks, they need to meet with Tetra and Pearl in their agreed meeting spot. Maybe the two Seawings have found a better solution?

That night, they seek refuge in a small cave. As Datura is fast asleep, Ice approaches No-one and tells him to break the spell right now, no matter the cost. No-one thinks about it. On the one talon, he wants Datura's approval, and Datura said no. On the other talon, he's always up for more appearances. For some reason, another one of his favorites recently disappeared. Besides, Datura doesn't need to know, right? They can just pretend that the magic on the chains...wore off, right? Or maybe Icebreaker had choked to death on a seal bone, and that broke the spell overnight? No-one follows through with Ice's request, touches her with his earring and seals the deal. He then concentrates all his power on the chains, telling them to break, telling them to release the magic they contain, telling them to reverse Ice's spell. The chains continue to shine bright blue, not reacting to anything. No-one is secretly offended that Ice's magic seems to be stronger than his own. Ice then asks him if he can try giving her “new” powers by “making her an animus”, but that doesn’t work as well. Somehow, the chains seem to prevent any magic entering or leaving Ice’s body. Ice seems frustrated, but doesn't have another outburst like in the Rainwing kingdom. Instead, she just looks tired and defeated. Ice and No-one agree to not tell Datura about any of this, for their own reasons.

The next day, they travel towards the meeting spot. No-one asks Datura what it's like to live in the Sandwing kingdom, and to everyone's surprise switches his appearance to a Sandwing. Datura, instead of being impressed or maybe even slightly more interested in No-one, accusingly asks who this is. No-one, realizing he did something bad, switches back to one of his Rainwings and explains that the Sandwing was some random bandit he stumbled upon, a really bad guy who wished for a lot of treasure because he was just so greedy. Datura, more or less convinced, drops the topic. As soon as they reach the meeting spot, they bump into Tetra just as she emerges from the ocean, not with Pearl, but with a group of Seawing soldiers. Ice, Datura and No-one are wary at first, but then Tetra explains the situation. The Seawing soldiers stay back to let them speak in private and Tetra presents the Queen's armband. Datura is worried about Pearl while Ice is angry about yet another decision that was made over her head. "So the Seawing Queen offers to release my magic, just for me to seal myself away again?" Tetra points out that she just needs to promise not to hurt any Seawings, which should be reasonable, but is interrupted by Ice who tells her that she's just a kid who doesn't understand the bigger picture. As the situation tenses up, Ice apologizes and explains how they just suffered another failure with Queen Bloom (leaving out Ice's wish with No-one) and that she's terrified of not being able to stop Icebreaker in time. Tetra seems understanding and assures her that everything will be fine with Queen Agate at their side, leaving out her own reluctance about the whole situation - her father is still on her mind. Maybe she just wants to convince herself.

Datura thinks loudly about how an alliance with the Seawings could help when it comes down to numbers. Icebreaker's army may not be big, but their magic would probably make each Icewing as dangerous as ten Sandwings. Ice agrees, painfully aware of what spells are circulating in the army, having tested most of them herself. There's also the question of Pearl: What will Queen Agate do with her if they don't agree to her conditions? After some more talking, Datura calls over the Seawings and asks them to relay a message to Queen Agate: Datura agrees to join forces with the Seawings, but urgently needs to travel back home to her sick mother first and cannot wait for a meeting with Agate. Ice will accompany her for her own safety and later meet Agate and her soldiers at the same river that Pearl and Tetra used to travel into the continent. There, the Sandwings and the Seawings will form a stand against Icebreaker's army. She leaves out their plan to heal Taipan to try and break the spell without Agate's help. And the Rainwing? Oh, that's just our forest guide. We bribed him with mangoes. He has nothing to do with this. The Seawings agree and leave to pass on the message.

Datura, Ice, No-one and Tetra are left to figure out their next steps. Tetra asks No-one to heal her wing so she wouldn't be a burden to them, and he does under Datura's and Ice's watchful eyes. She then asks if he can somehow show her how Pearl is doing, and he enchants a puddle to do exactly that, still using Tetra's appearance. Pearl seems fine, but she's surrounded by unfamiliar dragons. Tetra then tells him about her plan to heal Pearl from whatever affliction is keeping her from breathing air. Datura raises her concerns again, but is ignored by the overexcited little Seawing. Tetra raises her arm, showing No-one Pearl's armband and asks him if he can enchant it to make Pearl breathe air. He obliges, still appearing as Tetra. As for her final wish, she asks him to magically transport the armband onto Pearl's arm. He does. Looking into the puddle, they see the armband appear on Pearl, and as soon as it does, Pearl's eyes widen, her gills flutter, her little hands shoot up to her throat, bubbles gushing out of her nose and mouth. "What's wrong?", Tetra screams, realizing too late that No-one's spell was literal. No-one panics, bringing back the bracelet onto Tetra's arm. Pearl calms down, seemingly breathing normally again. No-one removes the enchantment from the puddle and reaches for Tetra's armband to do the same, but she backs away from his grasp. "I want to keep it", she says. "You do? After almost killing her with it?", Ice asks. "I want her to have the choice.", Tetra retorts and ends the discussion, not acknowledging that she has already taken that choice away from Pearl.

The group then sits down to figure out a way to get into the Sandwing kingdom, get past Sidewinder and heal Taipan. Tetra, feeling that she has to prove herself after her latest screw-up, offers an idea.

Book 6: Sidewinder

The last book would be from Sidewinder's perspective. A full scale war is about to break out before her doorstep and she hasn't slept properly in weeks. She tries to avoid her fellow Sandwings, because every time one runs into her, she gets barraged with more problems. The soldiers are running out of rations. The scouts still aren't back. The weapon shipment is late. Sidewinder has no idea what to do about that. About any of this. This isn't what she imagined it would be like, to finally be in charge with Datura and her mother out of the picture. Advisors pop up here and there, but their advice boils down to "step down and let an actual adult handle this" sooner or later. Her aunt Hognose, Taipan's younger sister, even insinuates that she's about to challenge Sidewinder (and Taipan, indirectly) for the throne. Taipan would have her head for this, if she knew. But Taipan isn't here right now.

Devastating news hits: a troop of Sandwings Sidewinder sent to patrol the border to the Icewing territory had been wiped out by a mere handful of Icewings. Only one survivor managed to crawl back and relay the horrors: when the Icewings attacked, they brought storm clouds and snow with them, their spears finding their way into Sandwing hearts, their scales effortlessly deflecting poisonous tail barbs as if made of diamond. "They were showing off", the survivor coughs weakly, "They didn't even use their ice breath."

Before Sidewinder can even react, more news hits: Her sister Datura was seen entering the Sandwing territory from the other side and immediately captured. Sidewinder perks up. Datura is back! Datura was smart when it came to things like this. Datura always did her history homework and sometimes stayed up late reading battle reports in the library. Datura will know what to do. Sidewinder orders her soldiers to bring Datura to the stronghold immediately and runs outside to greet her. It's a strange sight: the soldiers are dragging her limp sister forward like she weighs nothing and she doesn't even protest. She's wearing a strange golden armband Sidewinder has never seen before and she's missing her glasses and her veil. Sidewinder almost feels sorry for her and is about to bend down for a hug, until she remembers how their last meeting ended. Betrayal. "How dare you leave me like this!", Sidewinder hisses, but Datura barely acknowledges her. "How dare you leave your kingdom! Do you know how many soldiers we already lost? Do you know how hard it was to keep everything together on my own? And you just left me here to go play with your friend- wait, where is she? Where's that creepy Icewing with the chains?" Datura still doesn't answer. "Answer me, before I drive my stinger into your skull!", Sidewinder screams. Only then does Datura look up and say, with a voice that is not her own, "Wow. You really are a terrible sister."

While Sidewinder is distracted, Ice, Datura, and No-one disguised as a Sandwing sneak into the stronghold to heal Taipan. No-one assumes Datura's form to fulfill her wish and casts a spell on her mother. It seems like it doesn't work at first, but then Taipan opens her eyes. Datura seizes the moment right before her mother freaks out and explains the situation. Taipan, too weak to be angry about any of this, agrees to try and free Ice under a similar condition as Queen Agate's: Ice must make a magic oath to never use her magic against Sandwings (or Seawings) again. Ice retorts that she will take the oath in front of Taipan and Agate once they have defeated Icebreaker, which Taipan is fine with. She royally announces to Ice that she is now free to make spells, right as Sidewinder bursts in with guards. The chains don't react though, Ice's magic is still sealed. Silence falls over the room. Sidewinder stares at the two Daturas, unsure which one to scream at. The guards move forward to arrest the strange Icewing in their Queen's quarters, but are stopped by Taipan who reaffirms her authority as the ruler of the Sandwings. Sidewinder watches as the guards are dismissed, feeling her own authority slip away all the same. This is it. She's done. She's not needed anymore.

As her mother turns towards her, she anticipates a scolding for all the things Sidewinder screwed up during her "reign", if you could even call it that. Instead, Taipan thanks her and says that Sidewinder likely did the best she could do in such a situation. Bewildered, Sidewinder stares at her mother, ultimately unable to accept her affection. "Now that your favorite daughter is back, I'm clearly not needed anymore", she scoffs, "She's probably dying to tell you in great detail what a terrible leader I was, so keep your praises." With that, she storms out of the room. As she runs through the stronghold, she sees how quickly the news of the Queen's comeback has spread. Excited whispers in every corner, heads held up higher, brows furrowed and eyes shining with newfound confidence. Sidewinder feels sick. She leaps out onto a balcony, the very same one she taunted Datura from after banishing her. Sidewinder sits down to cry, but is interrupted by her sister.

She tries to antagonize Datura, but all that anger from before is gone, only sadness and exhaustion remain. The two sisters share a hug as Datura tells her that she missed her, despite everything. Sidewinder apologizes for banishing her, which Datura accepts. She tells Datura how she always felt sidelined while Taipan fussed over Datura due to her condition, as if Sidewinder didn't matter to her at all. Datura points out that whenever Taipan wasn’t fussing over her, she spent her time with Sidewinder, doing all the fun things Datura wasn’t allowed to do due to her condition: fight training in the blazing sun, hunting for food in the desert, visiting different parts of the kingdom to check on her people, and so on. After all, Taipan loves them equally, but she had to treat the sisters differently due to their different needs. Sidewinder understands. They sit in silence for a while as Sidewinder feels all the tension, hurt, anger and sleepless nights fade away, even if just for a moment. Datura then tells Sidewinder that Taipan has summoned everyone to the war room to plan the next steps, and asks Sidewinder to come. She agrees and the two sisters enter Taipan's war room, a huge space with a giant table in the middle, covered in maps and small dragon figurines. A complimentary bowl of dried lizards sits on the table. Taipan sits at the table, along with a few important Sandwing generals. Ice and No-one are also present, the latter assuming the form of a Sandwing. Sidewinder immediately notices that something is off about him, as he doesn't carry himself like a proper Sandwing would. He doesn't even curl his tail tip properly, for three moons' sake! Tetra sits in a bucket of water in the corner, shooting a glare towards Sidewinder and shaking her head at her. Sidewinder has no idea what she did wrong.

Taipan tells Datura to tell them everything, and Datura does. She retells her adventure with Ice, their meeting with Pearl and Tetra, their discovery of No-one and Queen Agate's deal. She finishes at the point where they attempted to break Ice's spell with Taipan, and formally turns to No-one to ask him to break the spell with his magic. No-one and Ice share a look that Sidewinder knows all too well: they screwed up something. Ice then explains that they already tried when Datura was sleeping, that it didn't work and that they were so sure that Taipan could break the spell that they decided to not tell Datura because they didn’t want her to be mad at them. Datura is angry that she was lied to, but doesn't push it further.. Instead, one of the generals speaks up: If those two lied to Datura about such an important thing, who are they even loyal to? That Icewing may say she’s part Sandwing to gain our sympathy, but she might as well still be loyal to the Icewings. And nobody knows who or what No-one even is, let alone what his motives are. Datura says that she's been travelling with them for weeks, that she could rely on both in difficult situations and that she trusts them. But the generals want to hear it straight out of the horse's mouth. Ice grabs her chain and slams her shackled wrists on the table. "Everything I ever did since escaping Icebreaker was to try and free myself. I want to free myself to stop Icebreaker, because this war is entirely my fault. If I never existed, Icebreaker wouldn't have a giant magic army right now. My loyalties couldn't be further away from that wretched Icewing. Or any Icewing, for that matter." Satisfied, the generals turn to No-one, who turns to Datura. Datura combines a raised eyebrow with a claw gesture, in a "go on, say something" kind of way. No-one takes off his earring, revealing to the generals (and Sidewinder) that he's a Skywing. He says that he's been on the run from the Skywing kingdom all his life, because, as everyone knows, Skywings kill animi when they're discovered. He's been travelling all over Pyrrhia since, always hiding his true identity and never making any real connections. He also admits that he never really cared about other dragons and always acted in his own selfish interest - until he met Datura. He's been helping her and Ice, at first just to gain more appearances, but then even beyond that. He could've left after Ice made a wish with him, or after Tetra’s wish, or even Datura’s wish. But he didn’t, and he wants to understand why. Sticking around and helping the Sandwings further might help him understand someday. The generals and especially Taipan are less impressed with that answer, so Taipan asks Datura to personally vouch for No-one, trusting her daughter’s judgement. Datura does, and the discussion moves on.

Since they couldn't free Ice with Taipan or No-one, it was safe to assume that Agate and her animi would likely be a bust as well. Still, they needed the additional support from the Seawing army to have any chance of winning in a fight. There was also another advantage – well, two, actually. For one, Icebreaker has no idea that the Sandwings have Ice. She may be a cruel, cruel dragon, but Ice is still her granddaughter, if that even means anything to her. If not, it's safe to assume that she'd at least want her animus maker back, because she hopefully respects her (pure) Icewing subjects too much to give Ice's role to one of them. On the other talon, they have something that Icebreaker definitely would not expect: No-one. Now they need to combine these little advantages into something tangible that could actually stop Icebreaker's conquest. Taipan calls for a break and tells everyone to get some fresh air to stimulate their brains.

Sidewinder watches as Ice walks over to Tetra's bucket and puts her forearms into the water, clearly uncomfortable with the heat and dry air of the desert. Tetra scoops up some more water with her webbed talons and pours it over Ice's head. Meanwhile, the Sandwing army generals discuss something with Taipan, who's trying to keep up a tough appearance, but her talons shake slightly as she reaches into the lizard bowl. Datura calls over her friends (and Sidewinder) and offers to take them on a little tour of the stronghold. Sidewinder has a quiet chat with No-one, where she asks him if he really told the truth earlier. He says that he did, but he doesn’t know how else to prove it. Sidewinder tells him that whatever happens next, he should do everything in his (magic) power to protect Datura. That’s how he’ll prove it. The two then rejoin the group. Sidewinder, still thinking about how Datura wasn’t allowed to do the “fun things” as a dragonet, suggests a friendly game of “Sting-you”, a traditional Sandwing game that requires all players to cover their tail barbs with a special covering and then run around in teams to “sting” each other with their tails. Whoever is “stung” has to fall to the ground and be “dead” until a teammate arrives to help them up. Whichever team is left with the last “living” player wins. Tetra doesn’t want to play because she’d want to have Pearl on her team and would be the odd one out, so it’s between team red (Datura and No-one) and team blue (Sidewinder and Ice). Team blue narrowly wins. The group has a laugh and eventually returns to the war room, where Taipan and the generals are already studying maps on the table. Taipan greets the group and reaches into the lizard bowl.

"Icebreaker.", she says after she's done with the lizard. Even though her voice is still weak, everyone immediately turns to listen. "Based on Ice's intel and what the scouts managed to find out, she is not interested in diplomacy. She doesn't care about our territories or our resources. She just wants to unleash a second, magic-induced scorching onto Pyrrhia and rule over the ashes. Or the ice and snow, for that matter." Everyone nods in agreement.

"That's why we will kill her."

Palpable tension covers the room as soon as the word "kill" leaves her mouth. Datura, No-one, Tetra and even Sidewinder look over to Ice. "But what will happen to Ice’s shackles if Icebreaker...", Sidewinder begins, but doesn't finish the sentence when everyone turns to look at her. Ice has a strange look on her face that Sidewinder doesn't understand.

"We will have to lure her out first. I suggest we send her a message and tell her that we have Ice, and that we want to discuss a peace treaty directly with the Icewing Queen. Obviously she's not interested in peace, but she'll hopefully want to see Ice. Maybe she's already covered in all sorts of magic artifacts that protect her from harm, so she's probably feeling confident and untouchable. And this will be her mistake. You, animus." Taipan turns to No-one. "If one can give a dragon magic, one can also take it away, correct?"

"I...think?", No-one says. "I've never tried it before."

"Try it now. It is of utmost importance.", Taipan says. No-one looks around the room helplessly while every other dragon avoids his gaze like hatchlings who don't want to be called on by the teacher. Nobody wants to risk their soul for an experiment. Ice is ruled out by default, Tetra is just a kid whom nobody wants to harm, which would leave Datura and Sidewinder. Sidewinder steps up: "Make me an animus. I'll enchant something small to see if it works, then you undo everything." Datura protests, saying it's too dangerous, but Sidewinder doesn't want to hear it. "I've screwed up enough already. Just let me do one good thing here." After some discussion, No-one lays his hands on her and gives her magic. Sidewinder immediately feels a strange tingling in her claws. To see if it works, she looks around to find something small to enchant and lands on Datura's sunglasses, offering to make them unbreakable. Datura gives her the glasses and Sidewinder enchants them. She then violently throws them against the nearest wall, stomps on them and tries snapping them in half for good measure, but the glasses are unharmed. Sidewinder likes this power. But before she can do more, No-one picks up a dried lizard and enchants it to take away Sidewinder's magic if he snaps it in half. He snaps it in half (and then throws it into his mouth), and the tingling in her claws immediately stops. She feels a mix of disappointment and relief, knowing that she'd definitely be the type to quickly corrupt her soul with this kind of power. No-one suddenly makes a weird face, and his Sandwing appearance seems to phase in and out of existence, his Skywing appearance flickering underneath. He panics and reaches for his earring, shifting to one of his Rainwings instead. “What in the three moons was that?”, Taipan exclaims. No-one explains that sometimes, his appearances fade for no apparent reason. Ice asks whether it has something to do with how much he used them for enchantments or maybe how powerful the enchantments were and No-one shrugs, he’s not really keeping track of any of that. Tetra asks how many he has left and he starts cycling through 3 Rainwings, another Skywing, a Mudwing and then Ice, Tetra and Datura. “Huh”, he says, "I thought I had more left.” Tetra asks what will happen to the real versions if their appearances in his earring fade, but he doesn’t know. Taipan waves it off, they’ll deal with this later.

Now that it's proven that magic can be taken away, the planning can continue. Tetra, from her bucket, offers to meet the Seawings at the river and lead them to a spot in the Sandwing territory where they can prepare for the fight. The others agree, saying that Tetra should be kept safe and away from the Icewings (and she'd be useless in a fight anyways). Datura offers to represent the Sandwing kingdom together with Sidewinder, since Taipan is in no shape to leave the stronghold. Taipan doubts whether Icebreaker would come out of hiding if she saw that the actual Sandwing Queen isn't there to meet her, only her daughters. Maybe she'd even see it as a sign of weakness and attack immediately. Tetra holds up the armband Sidewinder saw on the "fake Datura" earlier and says that one of the sisters should use it to appear as Taipan. If it fooled Sidewinder, it would definitely fool Icebreaker. And now that No-one is on a tight budget when it comes to appearances, it would be better to work with what they already have. Datura and Sidewinder look at each other, unsure who should bear this responsibility. On the one talon, if Datura did it, she'd have to go without her veil and sunglasses, because Taipan definitely doesn't wear those and it would raise suspicion. On the other talon, Sidewinder is unsure whether she can pretend to be a convincing Queen, after her failure as "temporary Queen". Taipan flat out asks Sidewinder if she will do it, and she says yes.

The planning continues. Taipan will send a message to Icebreaker, telling her that she has Ice, who's still wearing the magic-sealing chains, and asking her to meet. Datura and Sidewinder (disguised as Taipan) will bring Ice to the meeting spot (which will be close to the river the Seawings are hiding in), accompanied by some guards. No-one will be among them, disguised as a Sandwing guard. When Icebreaker is close enough, No-one will snap two enchanted twigs in his mouth: one will stop Icebreaker's heart (a spell that they can't test beforehand, for obvious reasons), one will take away the magic from all Icewings nearby as well as their enchanted objects. Because nobody knows how far the spell will reach, it is important to get as many Icewings as possible to be near Icebreaker, which will be achieved by placing a battalion of Sandwings in visible (but not threatening) distance away from the meeting spot. If the spell to kill Icebreaker fails, at least the magic will be gone and the Sandwing guards, all highly trained, will kill Icebreaker - with No-one's magic help, if necessary. Either way, the Seawing and Sandwing army will attack the weakened Icewings at once to push them back into their frosty habitat. Ice, Sidewinder, Datura and No-one will escape back to the castle, protected by the attacking armies. Taipan and Agate will handle the rest from there.

Taipan dismisses the group for now to begin preparations. Datura offers her friends to stay over in her room, as it’s big enough for everyone. (Tetra brings her bucket.) She also invites Sidewinder to this sleepover. The latter remembers how the two of them used to do these all the time as dragonets. Datura tells everyone to get settled while she finds some comfy rugs the other dragons can sleep on. Tetra notices that Ice looks down and asks what’s wrong, but Ice says that she’s fine. Sidewinder asks whether this is about killing Icebreaker and Ice winces. She confesses that she’s terrified of being stuck in chains and sealed away forever if Icebreaker dies. No-one suggests that killing her might also break the spell. There might be at least a tiny chance. Ice laughs and says that it doesn’t matter anyways, the decision wasn’t in her hands anymore and she’s only left to hope for a minuscule chance of gaining a happy end out of this. Sidewinder loudly reflects upon her own desire to make decisions – she wanted to become a leader so badly, but once it happened, she was suddenly making decisions that would affect an entire kingdom and that terrified her. Ice listens, and something about that seems to make her think. Tetra says that there’s still the option of Agate and her animi, but Ice just shakes her head and asks to drop the topic before Datura returns. The group has a little sleepover party with snacks and Sandwing board games before it’s time to sleep. In the dead of night, Sidewinder opens one eye and sees Ice standing at the window, staring outside with a blank facial expression. Sidewinder silently watches for a bit and then begins to fall asleep again. Just before she’s gone, she hears Ice and No-one quietly whisper something to each other.

Hard cut to the next day. Sidewinder, disguised as Taipan, stands next to Datura. In front of them lies Ice, chains wrapped around her arms and a rope tied around her snout. Behind the trio, mere steps away, five Sandwing guards, two of them looking awfully similar to each other. In the distance, a small figure leaves the sea of white spikes and wings and tails. Icebreaker, accompanied by guards of her own, walks over to them, her eyes piercing, her smile anything but warm. She breathes in deeply, and then breathes out a cold sigh that chills Sidewinder to the bone.

“My oh my”, Icebreaker says. “What a predicament you’ve found yourself in.” The words are aimed at Ice, but somehow Sidewinder feels them hitting her own heart as well, making it skip a beat.

Icebreaker’s gaze rises up to meet Sidewinder’s. “It’s been a while, Taipan. I hoped we’d meet again under more savory circumstances, but alas.” Sidewinder ignores Icebreaker’s deliberate omission of any kind of formality one would expect when addressing a Queen.

“I’m here to talk about your plans.”, Sidewinder says. “You’ve been gathering an army near our border. What for?”

Icebreaker ignores the question: “Oh, but first, you gotta let me in on your secret.”

“M-my secret?”, Sidewinder asks. Icebreaker continues: “I’ve met Sandwings your age, and they all sound so dreadfully harsh and raspy. I always assumed it’s that dry desert air. How did you manage to keep such a pleasant and youthful voice?”

“Honey-glazed cobra cutlets”, Sidewinder answers while trying to hide her panic, “keeps the throat fresh. I would invite you to try some, but we have other matters to attend to.” Icebreaker closes her eyes and nods slowly and meaningfully. “Right, of course. I couldn’t help but notice that you have my granddaughter with you today. I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble?” “Splendid. May I come closer to have a chat?” This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Icebreaker makes a step, then hesitates. “Lemming”, she says with her head slightly turned towards the group of Icewings behind her. One of them jumps, then quickly stammers the following: “I enchant the enemy’s animus-touched objects to come to me!” Before anyone can react, Agate’s armband flies off Sidewinder’s arm, followed by Datura’s glasses and No-one’s earring. Lastly, the two sticks, still wet from his spit. Icebreaker’s eyes widen, then she composes herself. “Much better”, she says, studying the “new arrivals”, Sidewinder and No-one. “Taipan’s dead, isn’t she?”, she asks, “I did hear about the terrible poisoning. Why else would the Sandwings be led by these pathetic little children trying to play tricks on me?” Icebreaker steps closer. One step. Another step. So do the Icewing soldiers. They are surrounded. Datura looks to Sidewinder, who’s muscles seem to be frozen in place. Nobody moves, until –

Somehow, Ice had removed the rope from her snout and screams: “Icebreaker!!!” Her voice makes the Icewing Queen stop dead in her tracks. “You poor soul.”, she says coldly. “Have you had your share of fun running around with these creatures? Have you had enough?”

“I have”, Ice yells, “You were right. You were right all along. Everything beyond the Icewing kingdom is just a lawless wasteland. Seawings with multiple Queens, Rainwings who let just about anyone rule without question and tyrannical Sandwings who kept passing me around like some kind of bargaining chip!”

“Ice–” Datura says sharply, but Icebreaker interrupts her. “Oh, no, let her speak.”

“They treated me like trash”, Ice continues, wriggling towards Icebreaker as quickly as she can with her bound limbs. “They’re enemies, all of them. None deserve to stand between you and your perfect frozen continent.”

“Correct.”, Icebreaker says with a content smile.

“And those items you took from them were meant to kill you!”, Ice hisses. She’s now at Icebreaker’s feet. “All this time they were plotting to end your life. But unluckily for them, I’ve been plotting too. A spell that could end this war before it even started.” “I’m intrigued.”, Icebreaker says, unable to hide her excitement about a new spell. For some reason, her Icewing subjects weren’t big fans of experimenting with magic while Ice was gone.

“Do it. I allow it.”

Ice’s chains instantly lose their cold blue glow, appearing like regular metal chains. Ice turns towards Sidewinder, Datura and No-one. “This is for my enemy. My captor. My tormentor.

Die.”

Icebreaker’s eyes widen, her hands shoot up to her throat. She falls to the ground, convulsing. “And you.” Ice turns towards the Icewings. “None of you Icewings will ever use magic again!” Dark clouds accumulate in the sky above them all, and thunder begins to rumble. Ice looks down at her hands, her mouth moves and the chains fall off, disintegrating into dust.

“Ice!”, Datura screams and leaps forward, but Sidewinder holds her back. Ice looks back at them one last time before a flash of lightning descends from the sky, striking the earth. Ice disappears, with only smoke and a black stain on the ground where she stood just moments ago. The Icewings are shocked at first, then charge into battle to avenge their Queen who has now stopped moving. Sidewinder signals the Sandwings to attack and prepares to retreat. Datura is still standing there screaming Ice’s name, so Sidewinder drags her along. No-one enchants the magic items to come back and his earring flies into his open palm while the rest of the items get trampled by the Icewing soldiers. He puts on the earring and switches to his Sandwing appearance.

The guards do their best to shield the trio from the oncoming Icewing onslaught, but are quickly overwhelmed. An Icewing aims his ice breath at Datura, so No-one spits a mouthful of fire in his face. Another tries to stab Sidewinder with a spear, she ducks underneath and buries her stinger into his throat. A group tries to cut them off, so No-one enchants the rocks beneath them to shoot upwards and launch the soldiers into the air. Datura has a hard time seeing in the harsh light without her glasses, so both Sidewinder and No-one guide her through the battlefield. The latter turns the ground behind them into quicksand, enchants the Icewing spears to turn against them and hits them with anything else he can come up with. Suddenly, his Sandwing guard appearance flickers and disappears, right as the real guard’s throat is slashed by Icewing blades. No-one switches to one of his Rainwings and continues casting spells, but soon, this one also disappears. One by one, his appearances start to flicker and fade, and he hesitates, almost getting hit by a flash of ice breath.

“Use ours!”, Datura screams as Sidewinder whips around to sting another Icewing. He catches her tail in his hand and buries his serrated talons in it. She roars and Datura spits fire in his face until he lets go. No-one switches to Tetra and fires off another enchantment, then to Ice, another enchantment, then to Datura. A spear hits him in the shoulder and ice breath grazes the tip of his tail. He heals his injuries with magic and carries on. Suddenly, an Icewing manages to rip off the earring and crush it between his teeth, destroying the illusion and revealing No-one’s Skywing form. He tries to retaliate with fire, but another soldier hits him with his weapon, throwing off his aim. Then, out of nowhere, another spear flies through the air and hits Datura straight in the throat, piercing it entirely. She lets out a silent scream that turns into a gurgle as blood spews forth. “NO!”, Sidewinder screams and No-one dashes towards Datura, ripping out the spear with one hand and closing the wound with the other - his first enchantment he did as “himself” in years. He then hurls the spear back where it came from and it pierces something, someone, creating a blue fountain. But the Icewings just keep on coming. All hope seems to be lost, when suddenly, the Seawings arrive, attacking the surprised Icewings from the side. It’s this critical moment that allows the trio to finally escape more or less unharmed.

Epilogue

The war between the Icewings and Sandwings (now aided by the Seawings) wages on. Queen Taipan and Queen Agate need to negotiate new terms, now that Ice has disappeared without a trace and Datura didn’t assume leadership of the Sandwings. Sidewinder aids Taipan in any way she can, gaining knowledge and confidence in the process. Tetra leaves to go find Pearl again, who has been given a new identity and reunited with her parents thanks to Agate. The two kids have a lot to discuss. No-one, scared of becoming like Ice, refuses to do any more enchantments for this war and tries to leave the stronghold in the middle of the night. He casts a spell to make Datura’s glasses reappear in his hands and plans to drop them off by her door as a goodbye gift. Before he can do that, he runs into her. She was also about to leave on an entirely different journey to find Ice (fiercely believing that she’s still alive and out there somewhere). She knows that her mother would not approve of her leaving, but what else is she to do in the kingdom? Be Queen? Sidewinder’s there for that. The two agree to leave together and send Taipan and Sidewinder messages every so often.

And that’s how it ends.

Thank you so much for reading through the entire thing! As noted in the title, this is just a first draft and also the first time someone other than me reads this – so of course I expect you to find plot holes, inconsistent character moments and other stuff I could improve on. If you're nice about it, maybe I'll even listen ;) (joking) No matter what, I hope this serves as a (more or less) satisfying conclusion for all my WOF characters you know (and love?).

#wof #wings of fire #wof oc #icewing #sandwing #seawing #rainwing #skywing #dragon #dragon oc #very long post #buzzkill wof arc

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scekrex · 1 month

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Hi I am wonder if you could do anothe part for overlord!reader, like maybe news on how reader has Adam got out and now reader has to take time from his personal paradise to deal with the rest of Hell. Their place is hidden away so he doesn’t really have to deal with attack but he does have to deal with contant calls to buy or hand over Adam. Reader is just increasingly piss off and at some point Adam decide to help him chill out by snuggling him when it became clear he’s close to losing it. It gotten bad enough that Adam straight up drag a reclining couch to his office which help which helps wth work because an angel being all cuddly nearby would motivate anyone haul ass quickly to join them

Fuck I'm such a sucker for the soft bond overlord!reader and Adam have, I wanna write for em all day long ughhh

Bird of Hell's Paradise

Lover come hold me

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

After that little date you and Adam had enjoyed the prior week, news that the former angel was living with you spread through hell’s seven rings like a disease. And while your life as an Overlord in general had grown more stressful ever since the exterminations had been invented, this was a new peak of stress.

People kept reaching out, strangers managed to get their claws on your phone number and had the audacity to call you and ask for how much you would sell the first man to them, not understanding that Adam was not for sale. The first man would continue to stay at your place for as long as he desired and if one day he should decide that he no longer wants to spend eternity with you, he could move out. Selling him to some limp dick Imp was off the table though. Hell’s residents didn’t seem to understand that though, they kept calling you, blowing up your phone like there was no tomorrow, your text messages were full of people offering insanely high amounts of money for Adam and some people even dared to pay you a personal visit - though those were only people you knew. Not everyone in hell knew where exactly your mansion was located and you were more than grateful for that. A protection spell you had casted recently would also prevent any ordinary sinner or hellborn to ever find it.

You dropped your head onto your desk, the loud noise it made caused Adam to lift his head, his eyes looking you up and down. The first man was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a displeased expression, “The fuck is going on?” You sighed as you turned your head towards your lover, yet you kept it on the desk, you were too tired to lift it up. “Hell’s demons seem to be very interested in you, my love,” you mumbled as you reached for your phone that was interrupting the situation by buzzing quite loudly, “Fuck off, he’s not for fucking sale like a motherfucking slave,” and with that you hung up, not even hearing the person on the other end out. Your tired eyes watched as the first man left the little room you had organized to function as your office. Apparently Adam himself seemed to have enough of hell’s bullshit as well and you really could not blame the former angel at all. It must be exhausting to know that people down here either want him permanently dead or that they want to buy him like a pet you can just shop. The poor soul must suffer from this even more than you were. You were able to turn off your phone and ignore it, he wasn’t. Not when all of this was about him, after all. You had offered him protection when you had rescued him, now you were not even able to provide a peaceful afterlife for the first man.

In exhaustion you closed your eyes but the silence in your office didn’t last long, this time however it was not your phone that interrupted the somewhat peaceful moment, it was Adam. The first man was dragging a reclining couch through the door, pushing it through the room until he had decided on what appeared to be the perfect spot for it, then he walked over to where you were resting your head on your desk. Without any explanation the first man took your phone, muted the device and put it back on the table. “You,” he said as he lifted you out of your chair. Your body went limp as the brunette picked you up as if it was the easiest thing he had ever done, your head was now resting on the first man’s shoulder instead of the hard wooden desk and your body embraced the warmth that Adam’s body offered. Legs were wrapped around the brunette’s hips and arms held onto his neck, the former angel’s hands steadied your back so that you were not to fall. His soft, shimmering wings he wrapped around you, turning the stressful world off for a moment as he carried you over to the couch he had just dragged here. “Are gonna fucking rest and ignore all that motherfucking bullshit for a couple hours,” he finished his sentence as he flopped down onto the couch.

Adam had never been this touch before, yes he had hugged you, yes the both of you cuddled while sleeping, but him hauling an entire couch into your office just to distract you from the chaos that hell was going through because its residents now knew Adam was living with you? That was nothing you’d turn down - not that you’d ever turn down affection the former angel offered you in general. “Whatever my mighty winged love desires,” you hummed as you snuggled closer against his chest. The brunette’s chin came to rest on the top of your head as he simply held you, the wings provided a comfortable warmth that made you fall asleep quicker than you had thought it would. But the warmth paired with Adam’s scent had you asleep in no time and with a small smile your tall lover watched over his finally resting boyfriend.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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traumxrei-archive · 1 year

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【 these battles we live through 】

prompt #5: It’s time to fight an overblotted person and if he don’t tell them now, he might not live to tell them later (ft. riddle rosehearts, trey clover, leona kingscholar)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.4k

a/n: wooo overblots !! tbh i wanted to make these longer to impress a sense of danger, but it was already plenty long after i checked it with the word counter...so rip.... i hope that you can still enjoy tho <333

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was absolutely furious. Not only was he furious at Leona for suddenly overblotting, he was also mad at himself. He cursed as he cast another healing spell, the blood that stained his glove making his own heartbeat thunder in his ears. How incompetent was he to see you get injured in front of his eyes?

"Riddle, I'm...I'm fine." He bit his lips at your words. You were fine. Objectively it was a deep gash to your arm. But Riddle couldn't help but feel like...

"Like I almost lost you," He pressed his forehead against your shoulder. Leona was still rampaging, his efforts now focused on Ruggie and the others rather than him.

"You didn't lose me," You said softly, holding onto his hand. "I'm right here, Riddle." Not even five minutes into the fight, and you had gotten injured. The gravity of the situation weighed on Riddle's shoulders heavily.

"I want you to leave this place," Riddle mumured, his grip on your hand tightening. "I don't think I could bear it if you got hurt again."

"It's a fight," You reasoned. "Everyone's gonna get a bit battered."

"But if I lose you, I..." Riddle tasted ash against his tongue as he swallowed. Maybe he would never get the chance. Maybe this fight would rob him of what he held the most dear. Maybe he would never be able to convey what he really felt.

"Prefect," Riddle said slowly, holding your gaze for a moment too long. "I know it is improper to do this in such a setting, but...I care for you. Deeply. And I wanted to...inform you in case anything happened."

"Then promise me," There was something resolute in your tone. "Promise me that you won't die here, and that you'll confess to me properly after all this over."

"Demanding as always," Riddle chuckled, and he could feel a faint warmth tickling his heart, even in this dire situation. "I promise. I will return to you."

This was a battlefield. Riddle was more than sure of that now. He flexed his soiled glove, pinpointing one of Leona's blindspots before releasing an attack spell. Leona simply roared in outrage, not at all fazed by his attack.

But Riddle had to try. He had to try and succeed. And what better motivation did he have than returning to your arms unscathed?

Trey Clover

Never in Trey's life would he have imagined that he would be caught up in, not one, but two overblots in his lifetime. He was under the impression that such ocassions were rare, but....

"Watch out!" A student shouted as the overblot beast raised its tail into the air, smashing through the trees like they were toothpicks.

He pressed himself against the foliage, watching as the beast passed by silently. And it was exactly then where he found you, crouching in one of the bushes. Relief flooded his chest as he checked you for any injuries.

"Thank Sevens you're safe," Trey said, pulling you into his arms. It was no secret how much he cared for you. It was to the point that Cater and the first year duo had an ongoing bet on who would confess first. But...

You smiled weakly, "I'm glad you're here."

His heart thumped almost painfully in his chest as he turned his head towards the direction of the overblot, "I have to help them."

"You don't have to," You pleaded, your hands mercilessly gripping his shirt. "You'll get hurt if you fight."

"The longer he stays rampant, the more time he has to hurt you, sweetheart," Trey pressed his forehead against yours. "You know....even if I didn't ever say it, you know how I feel about you."

"No, if you say it like that then—"

"I love you," Trey chuckled, though it sounded hollow and afraid. "And I'm deathly scared of dying. But more than that, I'm scared of losing you."

There were tears in your eyes now, "That just sounds like a final goodbye."

"It's not a goodbye," Trey said, gently wiping at your cheeks. "I just want you to know. It's bad timing, I know. I just...we can talk more after this is over, I—"

You leaned forward, wrapping him in an embrace so tight he almost didn't want to let go, "If you're going, then you're better try your best to come back unhurt."

"I'll try my best for you," Trey reluctantly let you go, grabbing his magical pen. "I will be back. Soon."

"Soon," You echoed as he ran off into the clearing, facing the overblotted person unafraid. There were already a few students attacking the beast, and he made sure to yell out his instructions.

Yet all Trey could think about was you. He would return, he vowed then, he would return unhurt, and he would finally be able to tell you all the words that he had been keeping inside his heart.

Leona Kingscholar

Azul overblotting was not a part of the plan. Leona dodged as anothe tentacle came to swipe at him, hauling another bystander behind a coral structure.

Then again maybe he should've been expecting it. An overblot was something he was all too familiar with. And Azul did lose everything that he had built up all of his life. He gritted his teeth as he launched back into action, shooting more spells towards the octo-bastard.

Leona just hoped that you would stay out of the fight for once; that the Leech twins would keep you occupied enough that you wouldn't get caught up in this battle.

But it seemed that there was no God smiling down at Leona today. Instead, here you were grabbing at his arm and tugging him behind a coral structure.

"Why are you here?" Leona hissed, hastily throwing up a barrier to shield you both from the surrounding chaos. "You're gonna end up getting yourself killed."

"Like you're one to talk!" You fired back, bringing your hand up to his head. "Did you even notice that you were bleeding?"

He released a harsh breath, "It's just a scratch. But I need you to get out of here."

"Why would I leave?" Your brow furrowed. "I can't just abandon you here."

"You don't have any magic to protect yourself."

"I won't do anything reckless—"

"Staying in this battle is the definition of reckless," Leona gripped at your arms. "How long will you hold on to your stubbornness?"

"Leona-senpai, I am not abandoning you here." The words felt like needles stabbing Leona right where it hurt.

"Please," The words were laced with emotions that Leona was unequipped to voice. "I can't see you get hurt." Your gaze softened, and for once he thought that you might listen. For once, he thought, that maybe he could keep you safe.

"Then I'll keep hiding," You said quietly, your hand now holding onto his wrist. "You'll be able to protect me. You're Leona Kingscholar, right?"

And Leona was foolish to think that his words could do anything about your bullheaded loyalty to your friends, and as an extension, to him.

"Hah," Leona leveled you with a glare. "What an unlucky thing, for me to be stuck harboring feelings for such a stubborn herbivore." He stabilized the barrier when one of Azul's tentacles thumped against it. He didn't have much time before the barrier fully collapsed.

Your eyes widened, "Did you just...?"

"You can hear the rest of it after the battle," Leona muttered, wiping at the dust caking your cheek. "That is if you don't get any major injury. Otherwise you'll have to wait even longer to hear it."

"Wait, Leona-senpai—"

"I'm casting a radius shield. You step out of it and I'm sending you out of here," Magic sang under his finger tips as he wove together the spell, and he watched as you nodded. "Good. Now shout if you see any openings, I'm not expecting you to stand around doing nothing."

"I wasn't planning on being a sitting duck," You huffed, though you stepped closer to him as he aimed another attack spell at Azul.

He should've been more nervous, considering he was facing an overblot; something he had no experience with prior. But he felt strangely calm, especially when he saw you right next to him as he fought. Maybe after all this was over...

Leona gripped his magic pen tighter. He just had to— no, he had to make sure that this was going to be over soon.

ty for reading these slightly hurt/comfort scenarios !! i hope that you enjoyed >:D if you did, go check out the rest of the 600 follower drabbles OR my masterlist ^^

#/trau writes #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #trey clover x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #no there's no leona favoritism wdym #shhhhhhh #shhhhhhhhhhhh #also trey clover....my brain be exploding over him

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pursuitseternal · 4 months

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“Torturing” update to “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Named Tav (Cordehlia) | E | 2.8K

Summary: When a ransom message from his siblings, Astarion and the rest prepare for their quest with renewed zeal and more questions. Cordehlia awakes in her cell, taunted and tortured (not physically) as her captor comes to call.

CW: aggressive Astarion, total alpha male energy (poor Petras, not really), more tragic backstory revelations, Cordehlia wants blood and payback… and freedom.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 17: Torturing…

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

“Get out of my way!” Astarion bellowed, hands balled into fists, fangs snapping and glinting at the wall of his companions blocking the door.

“You don’t know where she is… you can’t go barreling into a trap,” Halsin replied far too calmly for his tastes. “Cordehlia wouldn’t want that.”

“You won’t do her any good if you’re caught too… if she even has been taken by Cazador,” Shadowheart tried to reason, her own hands almost glowing, itching to cast a spell to hold him steady if necessary.

“We need to at least look for her, ask around. It’s broad daylight, you idiots! He shouldn’t have been able to look out a window let alone steal my…” his lips trembled. His stomach sank before he could even spit out one more word.

Lost, she was lost. Stolen. Taken. And he was powerless to save her. At least until he knew more.

“Daylight must not be a deterrent any longer, if he took her after dawn,” Halsin added, attempting a single step forward, hands in the air before him just in case the Vampire rushed. “We don’t know why or how, we don’t know where he took her or why…”

“I’m the why, you pack of idiots,” his voice was but a hollow growl. “I know the bastard, I’ve never been allowed anything of my own, no power, no freedom, no love, nothing for almost two-hundred years. And now…” he choked, fists shaking at his side. A sob, enraged and feral, catching in his throat. “Now… somehow he knows, knows that the fastest way to me, to having power over me again is to have power over…”

A sob shattered his words. He fell to his knees, bare chest shaking, wracked with ragged breath after breath. He couldn’t even mention her… not even remotely.

He was that same devastated slave. Lost. Broken. Shattered.

Alone.

Something shimmered beside them, the stink of sulfur, the heat of infernal magic. Two bodies appeared, two sets of glowing red eyes in the midst of that black and red heat.

Astarion bolted to his feet, hands clawed and fangs ready for whatever manifested. And he could feel his companions readying to do the same.

Black mist parted, familiar faces formed around those glowing eyes. “Brother… sister…” Astarion hissed, only animalistic rage pounding through his nerves. The need to protect, to save, nearly blinding his reason and obliterating any wisdom.

“Astarion,” a mimicking, mocking voice broke through the amorphous cloud. “The Master has a message for you.” Stocky and swaggering, another male Vampire stepped forward, arms waving dramatically as he bowed.

Rolling his eyes, Astarion hissed in reply. “Ah, Petras, of course you get sent as the errand boy,” his voice dripped with hate, all that charisma and arrogance turned to shards of ice, pointed right at his enemies. His fellow Spawn. “And you brought Dal with you, a little moral support needed, hmm?” His eyes scathed over the female, her face was softer, always softer. But it didn’t matter, Astarion sneered. “What does the old bastard want, not that I couldn’t guess…”

Petras tossed something into the space between him and his brother, keeping a safe distance away, or so the puny weakling thought. Astarion gloated that he didn’t dare approach. Something long and metal clattered on the wooden floor and scattered to a halt at his feet. A long dagger, bright and sharp, a stain of blood dried on its curve, darkening that outline of a diving crow just above the tang.

Hers.

At least she got the bastard…. Except…. As he picked it up from the ground, he instantly recognized that scent. Blood. Her blood. On her weapon.

“Where is she…” the question lanced from his sneering lips as he stood slowly. He could almost feel the imprint of her hand in the hilt. Eyes locking on that other vampire, he roared, guttural and toneless, flinging the blade to plant itself in the wall just over the female’s shoulder. Making her dart away.

In that second of chaos he launched forward. Fingers gripped into the pudgy circumference of Petras’ neck. “There’s nowhere safe for any of you, you know. Cazador can’t compel me, the sun can’t harm me, and you’ve backed a monster into the corner. You know how dangerous I can be, and you will know exactly all I’m capable of, brother, if you don’t start telling me what I want to know…” the wide red and glowing eyes scanned Astarion in terror. But the Pale Elf swung the brute to the side, thrusting him into the beams of morning light that streamed through the shadows where they had been hiding.

Torturing his brother wouldn’t be enough to sate his need to get to her. But it was a fun start.

Flesh melted, hissing and burning and stinking. Astarion could faintly hear his sister begging him to stop. He only laughed it off; when did she or anyone give a shit?

His voice was deep in his throat, laden with hate. “Now, you tell me what I ask, and I’ll throw you back into the shadows where you can skulk….” Petras’ head nodded even as his skin blistered. “Where… is… she?” the most feral of words he ever spoke.

“Th-th-the dungeons, under the palace. Secret defiled chapel. The Master wants you to t-trade your life for hers, let her go so he can complete our Ritual….”

A snarl through his fangs, and Astarion flung the Spawn across the floor, letting him stagger next to his sister. And all the while, he made certain his body remained in the sun. Taking his time, he strode forward, unhurried. Confident. Powerful.

Feeling the sun radiate from behind him and warm his back.

He looked down at where his former brother bent over in pain, smiling all the while as he enjoyed the show.

Petras muttered, “What are you?”

“I am the one that saves Cordehlia, stops your sham of a rite, and sends Cazador to his doom. You can tell the master that.” He spat the last two words. “Now you better scatter off and tell him before I regret my restraint,” hissing, he reached for her weapon embedded in the wall beside him.

Yet by the time he pulled it free, they had vanished as they had appeared. A flurry of sulfur and stink as they were lost into black mist.

He turned, his companions’ faces stared back, a mix of enraged and terrified, of concerned and determined.

“Astarion,” Karlach’s warm voice broke the tense silence first. “We will get her out.”

“Today,” he sniffed, still clinging to her dagger in his palm. As if he could feel her in the metal. “We get her today.”

“We need to know just what we are rushing into,” Halsin added, always so steady, so calm. Fuck, how did he do it. “We will need into the Palace.”

“Done, I know every way in and out,” Astarion’s face like flint, ready to parry every concern or question. There was no budging, no negotiation. She would be freed tonight.

“We need to know how to get to his dungeons, how to stop the Rite…” Halsin continued so steady and level headed.

“And we need to know… you’re not planning to give yourself up, are you?” Gale inserted, a deep breath as if he prepared another long diatribe. “And you should know, Astarion… have you ever seen the other spawn using infernal magic?”

At that, Astarion’s brows arched painfully high.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Gale rubbed at his chin, deepening his thought. “You see, between your vision of Cazador braving the thin light of dawn, and that display of teleportation magic, the infernal kind, mind you if you didn’t happen to notice the smell… it would seem Cazador has gained a little sliver of the power he has been promised once he completes the Rite of Profane Ascension. Daylight, mist-travel, who knows… we know he has previously called those werewolves into his service, he may even have other powers at his fingertips we can’t quite prepare for ....”

“I’m all pointy ears then, Wizard,” Astarion huffed begrudgingly. “What would you have us do… have me do?”

“Prepare for the worst, hope for the best,” he slipped his hand from its thoughtful placement.

“But we are getting her out of there, Astarion,” Halsin added, closing the distance to place a reassuringly large hand on the Vampire’s shoulder. “And you will not be a sacrifice for that Rite either.”

“You’re both owed your ‘happily ever after,’” Karlach grinned softly, “and you’re owed the freedom we all long for.”

Every head nodded, every face giving him a solemn smile.

“First, you’re going to have to put on more than pants, however…” a snide, sarcastic voice peeled from the bunch of them as Shadowheart finally gave her insight.

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned back to his things. That dagger in his fist calmed him and yet agitated. He could smell her blood stuck to it with each breath, and he could only hope that whatever wound she took in the fight wasn’t serious.

He smiled, a bit darkly if nervous, sliding on his undershirt and turning to his armor. Knowing her, whatever one wound she took, she gave at least ten in reply. He slipped the dagger into his belt, giving its hilt a little kiss first, whispering against its sacred steel, “I’ll be there soon, my little Raven.”

Dank, moldering air filled her nose. Cordehlia’s head throbbed, her arm stung where her blade had scraped her flesh when she was disarmed. Whatever magic it was that had disabled her at last, it was foul, in her nose and on her tongue. She shouldn’t have left… shouldn’t have gone without armor, or her sword or…

“Astarion!” she bellowed into the dungeon’s darkness as her eyes snapped open. But her voice only echoed against the slick walls of dark stone. She flung herself from the hard slab… a bed of sorts. Her muscles trembled, weakened from whatever spell had thrown her into darkness on his grave.

It had been quick, an ambush by the book. She should have known, she was too smart for such a simple attack. That voice, shrill and haunting, she recalled it from the pain inside her head. “Of course you would come here… and now little elf, you’re going to be the perfect bait.”

Her blade had flashed for a moment, nearly driving home in the tall elf’s chest, those glowing red eyes… it had to have been him.

“If the bait isn’t awake at last…” that shrill voice sounded once more too close to her ears for her own comfort. That same looming presence approached the diagonal bars of her cell. An arrogant smile on his thin lips and a shine on his pallid skin. “It’s been a while since this cell has held a Star Elf of such renown as the Bone Picker. Not since…”

He… Cazador… drew to a stop and tapped that massive and fearsome staff on the black tile floor. He scratched at his chin as he watched her glaring, that little She-elf with hair like fire and eyes like stars, and a soul blackened by the blood of thousands.

Yes, fitting bait for what he had in mind.

“Well, you’ve grown close with that upstart boy, Astarion, you know his kind… spoiled, arrogant, unteachable if there isn’t a cane or lashing involved.”

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” she hissed, a feral edge to her as well. “But only if I don’t kill you first.”

“Oh, you two certainly were made for each other, the kind of insolent response I would expect from his whimpering lips.” Cazador began to pace, to draw her attention and assess just what sort of reflexes the mighty warrior might hold. “I do so love the sight of such a rare and wise being in my power. You probably even know the last two to occupy such a cell, little Star Elfling… your High Lord and Lady….”

Cordehlia froze, trying to keep her face from reacting, but she was sure even the little tick of her flaring nostrils gave away her shock. Her dismay. She needed to know more, unable to keep herself from whispering their names and recalling their sweet if haughty faces. “What did they ever do to you?” she hissed again.

“I suppose there is no harm in telling you, you’re as good as dead or broken anyway…” Those eyes narrowed in the dark, assessing her, taking her measure. And clearly finding her wanting. “They existed. They double crossed one deal too many against my interests in order to get that welp into the City, all for some schooling for the boy.” The Vampire Lord sneered. “It was easy to betray them all, to make their precious son my spawn. It was almost easier to capture them as they grieved their son, to make them see the soulless slave he was before I killed them.”

Too much. It was too much. Her chest shook with rapid breath, her vision darkening to that bright red glare. Blood. She wanted his blood. Needed it to pay for the pain, the grief, the souls she had taken in the wake of her darkness. “On their glittering souls, I’ll kill you,” she seethed. “And once Astarion comes for me, he, too, will make you pay for everything… we will make you pay for everything you took from us for all these years.”

“Us?” Those ruby eyes narrowed, head craning unnaturally to the side. “No… it can’t be…” His cackle shivered down her back. “You’re also his beloved, aren’t you? Cordehlia?” He spat her name in disgust as if he heard it a thousand times before. “He used to scream for you, you know, when he first was turned. Those first nights were such druggery, beating him near to death only to have him try to run back to you again by daybreak. Must have taken a whole tenday of him screaming your name until I finally carved his flesh with his fateful scar and commanded your existence from his memory at last.”

A roar in her throat, Cordehlia launched into the cell door, leaping higher into the bars to clench her hand around his cold neck. It would be so sweet to squeeze the air from him, to relish his body going limp in her clutch as she had with so many of her foes.

But she only felt a cackle reverberating in her palm.

“Delightful, I can’t believe I get to see the rage of the Lady Corvus…” he mocked in those shrill tones, fingers easily peeling her hand from his undead throat one at a time. “And in exchange for such a great demonstration, you will witness the rise of the first and only Vampire Ascendant. Seven-thousand souls await their sacrifice too. in the rest of these cells. All is prepared and readied except for your long... lost love.”

His sickening smile made her stomach turn, her feet resting back on the ground if only so she could plan her next attack.

“The perfect bait… the perfect trap, the perfect way to torture your boy one last time. Once he comes to trade his life in the Rite for your freedom, then all will be forgiven, Lady Corvus, and you’ll go free.”

“Never,” she spat at his feet, eyeing that staff of his that he only gripped harder as he darted away.

“It’s what he was made for, little She-elf, to seduce thousands for the rite, to use that body of his for my will, to bring me the fodder and ensure my power, and then…” he cackled one more time, “to be consumed forever.”

Cordehlia could say nothing, could do nothing. She had to watch that monster, that tormentor, that thief that robbed her of their future… their love… her family… walk away back into the dank darkness.

Only once she was sure he was truly gone did she allow herself the comfort of tears. Swallowing her sobs, hiding her face as she sank back on that stone bed, knees pulled into her chest.

“Astarion…” she whimpered, longing with all her love to feel him or see him one more time. Trying to reach him with the tadpole, with her heart, or with her soul.

That velvet voice almost seemed to caress her mind, the slightest warming comfort in her heart, as if she could hear him: “I’ll be there soon, my little Raven,” he purred in her ear.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Another 3 days and you’ll quit hanging from that cliff 💞

Hold on tight, dear readers

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liquidluckandstuff · 11 months

Text

Did you know Harry can't swim?

Tom had never seen Harry as anything less than a Gryffindor. Always the hero, always self sacrificing, always kind and noble and smiling and he hated it so god damned much.

How was it that Harry Potter could stay so perfect all the time?

Bastard.

Harry had come out of nowhere. He showed up in the middle of the year with his shy smile and perfect eyes that lit up whenever he learned something new in defense and narrowed in total hatred whenever they looked at him.

Tom couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but that didn't mean he was going to take it.

It was supposed to be a harmless prank. Harry was perfect after all. He wasn't scared of anything or anyone and it irked Tom to no end. So, when the opportunity miraculously presented itself and he found Harry alone by the black lake...

He pushed him of the small cliff he had been standing over and he fell straight into the water.

The initial splash was so satisfying Tom found himself laughing with an unrestrained joy he hadn't allowed himself for a while.

But then that was it. No shouts of anger, no sounds of Harry swimming to shore. Nothing.

Tom looked over and waited for Harry's head to resurface.

And waited.

and waited.

And suddenly he realized that he had no idea if Harry could swim or not. What if the water was more shallow than he realized and Harry had hit his head on the way down.

"Damn it," Tom said as he took off his cloak and jumped in after him.

He found Harry quickly; limbs kicking awkwardly, eyes wide in panic. Tom grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the surface where Harry proceeded to cough up lake water the second he was pulled above the surface.

"Relax," Tom demanded. "You're just going to make yourself tired if you keep moving like that."

Harry, who thought Tom was here to finish the job, pushed him away out of self defense. "Go away!" Was the only thing he was able to get out before his head went back under the water.

"Oh for fucks sake," Tom usually didn't curse but Harry always seemed to bring out something different in him. He grabbed Harry tightly and refused to let go no matter how hard Harry fought him. "I'm trying to save you, idiot!"

"You tried to kill me!"

"I thought it was just funny! I wasn't trying to kill you! I didn't realize you couldn't swim.'

"Let me go!"

"No, you'll only drown yourself. Now would you - STOP!"

Harry was in a full panic once he looked down into the water and saw how deep and dark it was. He shook as he struggled to control his breathing even though Tom held him above water.

"I got you, come on. Just hold on i'll take you back..."

Tom pulled Harry close to his chest, their warmth quickly sinking into one another as he carefully backstroked toward solid ground. He made a point to remain as calm as possible as Harry had a fixed look of wide eyed terror on his face.

He couldn't deny that he enjoyed Harry relying on him or his hands clutching tightly to his shirt. He almost considered teasing Harry and keeping them in the water just a little longer so they could remain as close as they were.

For no other reason than to prove how much better he was than Harry of course.

Yet, they made it back in one piece and Harry still did not seem to calm down even when his feet were on solid ground.

"Um... here," Tom said awkwardly as he cast a spell to dry them both off. "I.. uh..." He didn't do apologies very well. "I won't do that again."

Harry turned to him, a ghost of fear still behind his eyes and said nothing before storming off back to the castle.

_________

@i-dream-of-libraries See? See? Vacation brain.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #Harry Potter #Tom Riddle

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avocado-writing · 8 months

Text

Kinktober 31

31. Reverse au

notes: we made it! I’d like to give a big thank you to everyone who’s been consistently reblogging my fics & commenting this month. You’ve given me the push to keep going! I wouldn’t have done this without you. And of course my friend & beta, M. Thank you for looking over my porn and pointing out my spelling mistakes (sincerely). 😌

You are never happier than when you’re with your angel and your demon.

They are two utterly, utterly different souls, brought together by their adoration of each other and of you. You cannot thank the universe enough for them. They are a salve to your soul, the reason you want to come home every day. They are your dearest reward and most stable constant.

They are your husbands, and you love them.

You get home late that night, letting yourself into the back of the plant shop with the keys Crowley trusts you with. There’s two keyrings on them: an AC/DC one Zira got you when you went to see their Back in Black tour back in the 80s, and one you picked up from a museum where some of your finds were being put on display. It has a little dinosaur skeleton motif and reads ‘I dig you’. You laughed at it for so long Crowley bought a handful of them, just in case they ever fell apart.

“Boys?” you call.

“In the dining room, my love!” Crowley chirps. You leave your suitcase by the door, deciding you’ll be bothered to unpack it later, and head towards them.

You grin when you see what they’ve laid out.

“What’s all this?”

The table is set with Crowley’s fine china, three places set by candlelight. Dinner, your favourite, has been set out on serving platters. Even Zira has managed to dress up in a black dress shirt which he has the top buttons undone on and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows for. Crowley is dressed in another new suit, but it’s your favourite colour, so you’ll let it slide without comment.

“We missed you, gorgeous,” Zira says with a grin as he pours you a glass of merlot. Crowley gets up and pulls your chair out for you, and you chuckle at the chivalry of it.

“I’ve only been away for a couple of weeks.”

“Mmm, which is the longest we’ve been apart since that stint in 2008,” Zira remarks.

“Oh, right. The apocalypse thing. I suppose it has, hasn’t it?”

“Well, you’re back now. How was the dig, my love?”

You eat and go into detail about your time away, the site you were excavating. Roman villa. Not one you ever visited personally, but similar enough in style to ones you saw at the time for you to be able to lead the team in the right direction. Your husbands listen, hanging on your every word; Zira eating far more than you actually remember being cooked and Crowley taking the occasional bite and sipping his wine, dabbing his mouth gently with the edge of his napkin.

They love hearing about your day. When you’re all caught up with each other, Crowley reaches across to rest his hand on yours.

“You realise what today is, don’t your darling?”

You furrow your brow.

“Saturday?”

“Well, yes. But it’s our anniversary.”

You immediately start fiddling with your wedding ring, confused.

“No it isn’t? Our anniversary is —”

“Not that one,” Zira says through a mouthful of chocolate cake. “The other one.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh my god, when we all met each other again. How could I forget?” you whisper. Crowley smiles.

“And when we all fuc—”

“Yes, thank you Zira,” says Crowley, pursing his lips. “You’ve been busy darling, it’s alright.”

You cast your mind back to that night in 1656. You were so desperate for entertainment, your beloved theatre banned by that twat Cromwell, that you accepted an invitation by your friend Davenant to go and see his opera. Sneaky bastard had managed to get around the ban on plays by adding music to his work. You hadn’t been too sure but god were you glad you accepted because who else had been there but two handsome no-longer-strangers you never thought you’d see again.

Yes, the three of you had come back together. And then you came together in one of Davenant’s coat closets when you sneaked away during Act 2. The three of you have been inseparable since.

“Well,” you say, standing up and grabbing both of them by the collar, “I suppose we’d better celebrate.”

Zira kisses you first. He usually does. He tastes of wine and tobacco, a heady mix you’ve long since come to love. He presses you backwards into Crowley’s grasp and your angel begins to undress you, his nimble fingers making short work of everything above your torso. Zira wastes no time before beginning to fondle your chest, grinning as you keen against him.

“Fuck, two weeks is too long,” he growls on your lips.

“Quite right,” Crowley agrees, peppering kisses along the length of your arm, sucking your fingers into his mouth and moaning around them. You capture him in a kiss next, loving the way he begins to whine in need when you show him any attention whatsoever.

“Oh Zira, how did you deal with this one while I was away? Isn’t he a handful?” you say, wickedly, enthralled.

“I used a gag, honestly,” Zira chuckles lowly. Crowley immediately goes pink.

“I, I…”

“You’re a beautiful boy. And so are you, Zira.”

The demon chuckles.

“I scrub up alright.”

You sink to your knees before them, looking up with doe-eyes.

“Come on. I’ve missed being down here. Let me use my mouth, it’s been ever so empty without your cocks in it.”

The sentence has them immediately under your spell. They fiddle with their flies: Crowley on the trousers of his suit, Zira his black jeans which he considers ‘fancy’ wear. Soon they’re both in front of you, dripping and hard.

“Oh, look at the both of you. I’m away for a fortnight and you’re both desperate for me.”

“Yeah,” Zira chokes out, eyes blown wide. You circle a hand around them both and stroke them in tandem, working their shafts with your clever fingers. They’re both so different: Zira’s cock is girthy and thick, ruddy red at the head; Crowley’s longer and more slender with a slight upwards arch. You don’t have a favourite. You like both of them in every hole you have.

You start with Zira, knowing he’s the most impatient, taking him down your throat as you pump Crowley with your hand. The demon growls and buries his hands in your hair, dragging your mouth up and down the length of him as gently as he’s able to.

“Fu-uu-uck, like that, babe,” he growls. You let saliva build up and drip down your chin along with his pre-spend, a filthy cocktail landing on your bare chest. As he gets more ravenous for you you release him with a pop, switching your attention to Crowley, taking him down in one swallow.

“Oh–! Oh my goodness, I–” your angelic husband whines, keening his hips against you, desperate to feel the slide of his length across your tongue. You choke a little in a way that you don’t with Zira, grinning as tears sting your eyes.

You stay like that, fucking one with your hand and the other with your mouth, until you know they’re both about to come. At that point you bring them together, watching them kiss each other as you take the heads of both of them between your lips at once. Your tongue swirls a sinful sonata on them and they come at once, all over your face and chest and down your throat, they groan into each other’s mouths as Zira fists one hand in Crowley’s hair and the other in yours.

You barely have time to recuperate before Zira drags you to your feet, kissing you so he can taste the combined mix of their cum on your tongue. Then with a strength you forget he has he hefts you over one shoulder and Crowley over the other, marching you both to the bedroom as he miracles off his clothes.

“Zira–!” you squeak with glee, reaching down to slap his peachy arse as he goes.

“What? We all said it: two weeks is too long.”

He deposits you both on the bed and you don’t leave it for the rest of the night. They share you between them, sandwiching you between their bodies in the most heavenly and wicked way. Their cocks fill you up at once and they fuck you until you’re nothing but a ragged, exhausted shell between them, dripping with come and decorated with bruises and scratchmarks. All three of you are, actually: the signature of your lovemaking. Messy, intense, and always always gorgeous.

You snuggle between them as you relax in the afterglow. Zira has lit a cigarette and smokes it lazily, exhaling it in rings in the air above your bed. You pet Crowley’s hair and are thoroughly content with it all.

“Happy anniversary, my darlings.”

“Happy anniversary,” Crowley whispers from where his lips rest against your skin.

“Here’s for another four hundred years,” Zira chuckles, and you think you’d like that very much indeed.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler

@darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

#Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #Avo’s kt 23 #aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #reverse au

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foone · 1 year

Text

The City of Towers is the most holy city for the followers of Our Silent Mother, with many of the religion's nunneries and monasteries* located there. The whole area has long considered holy ground, so since the third century onward it's been forbidden for there to be men within the city.

This was actually law since the founding of the city shortly before the passing of Our Silent Mother, but it's only been enforced since the late third century. The spell was cast in 257 AM, and the four centuries of worship since has reinforced it to the point where it's as strong as laws of nature (or stronger, as any decent magic user can find ways to bend or break those.)

But those who have never visited The City of Towers often misunderstand the nature of the edict. It's not "men may not enter the city", like there's a border guard checking your passport at the city wall**.

No, the specific wording and meaning of the rule is that "no one within the city may be a man". So if you enter the city as a man, you'll stop being one for the duration of your visit.

The effect is usually temporary, though the longer you stay in the city, the longer it takes to wear off. Many sisters of the assorted orders in the city have taken trips away from it for many months without any gender reversion effects.

Also, it's a common misunderstanding that the city will always turn men into women: not actually true! There are many non-binary residents of the city, and the similarly any non-binary visitors will not be affected by the city's rule. Whether the city turns any given male visitor into a woman or an enby for the duration of their stay is up to the individual and while it's not necessarily predictable, it's never truly surprising.

Also, the rule has no effect on members of monogendered races like Dragons and (ironically) lizardmen. Even though they, as a race, all use he/him pronouns and reproductive anatomy similar to AMAB humans, they won't be turned into "lizard women", as such a thing doesn't exist. (and obviously monogendered races that are "female", like mermaids and skydoves***, will have no issues)

In any case, male visitors to the city need not worry about their longterm gender. Short visits wear off within hours, and the city is very welcoming to visitors unexperienced with being a woman. It is considered somewhat gauche**** to walk around in public in "male" clothing, but there are several charities in the city who will provide appropriate clothing to any visitors for a small donation.

For those who have strict religious, dietary, or personal gender history reasons to need to avoid the effects of the towns Gender Edict, the small settlement of Forever's Landing is located a short distance outside the city (and spell's) limits, and has many inns and pubs for male members of your group to hang out while the rest visit the holy city*****.

But enjoy your stay at the City of Towers. May Our Silent Mother watch over and protect you.

* the distinction between monasteries and nunneries in a city where there are no men is a complex one that has caused endless theological argument. After seven centuries of debate, the most certain answer anyone has been able to come up with is "nunnery is easier to spell"

** naturally, as the City of Towers has no walls. The loving embrace of Our Silent Mother is open to all. And no enemy has been foolish enough to lay siege to the city since the One Day War of 317 AM.

*** you may think this name is redundant, but earthdoves would disagree, if any had survived the Wing Wars. The skydoves maintain their name in recognition of their history of triumph over their distant cousins.

**** There's no law against male clothing, of course, but it's considered somewhat rude and antisocial. You may not be allowed into a temple to pray, or a tavern may not serve you. And you can forget about being admitted into any of the cities nightclubs****** or polite society mixers.

***** for reasons understood only to them, Forever's Landing is very popular with lizardmen. Even though the city's law has no effect on them, they prefer to stay outside of it when possible. Although the city was founded by humans, there has always been a small lizardmen population within the city, even during both of the wars (as The City of Towers and nearby environs were declared neutral and this was accepted and respected by all three sides*******)

****** yes, even drag nightclubs. The City naturally has a thriving drag scene. It's long been known in The Union that The City of Towers is the ultimate destination for all top-class drag kings.

******* those three sides being: humans (and allied races), lizardmen (and allied races), and the moon********.

******** this isn't a footnote about the moon*********, just a realization that these footnotes are getting very hard to manage. Perhaps I should have used superscript numbers instead of asterisks? It's entirely possible I have mixed up the footnotes. I'm doing this on mobile so it's hard to check.

********* the moon lost the first great war, and won the second, which helped lead to the lasting human-lizardman peace.

#101 magical pistols #my writing

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cologona · 2 months

Note

If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

#me rambling so much #i have been holding onto this too long #I did kind of pull and UTRH part 2 electric boogaloo with Sasha didn’t I #except I characterized her as more like fanon/movie Jason #I fixed some of the typos now #oh god I forgot to mention:#I want to have a repeated motif of timekeeping sounds #beeping alarms ticking clocks beating drums #also I want Jason to show off his knowledge of bombs and poisons #Jason’s always making antidotes to shoot people with that ought to be explored #ahhhh the ideas won’t stop coming #jason todd #scarlet sasha #essence dc #headcanons #red hood #put a pin on it #📌

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quillthrillswriting · 2 months

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i love writing sokka, so i've thrown some of my favourite lines of his from my fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" together, so that they can be properly appreciated <3 >:)

---

Sokka continued, his voice both indignant and commanding.“We don’t even know your name, Mr. Walking Ice Cube! What were you doing in there? Were you trying to mimic a snow-man and you got too carried away?”

---

“So, you’ve brought a monster to invade the village, then? You’re some incognito Fire Nation soldier sent in as an undercover scout? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m the village’s strongest warrior, a-”

“The only warrior,” Katara chimed in, lightly elbowing Sokka’s side, earning herself a responding glare.

“The strongest warrior.” Sokka reiterated. “And I don’t much like firebenders.” He added the words pointedly.

“Ah.” Aang titled his head. “That’s a shame. Some of my closest friends are Fire Nation.”

“Of course they are,” Sokka glared, hunching over into a defensive position and adjusting his fishing spear until it pointed directly at Aang.

---

“Appa can give us a lift?” Sokka said incredulously. He gestured at the sky bison, sprawled across the ice and looking as though he could sleep for weeks longer. “If anything, he looks like he needs us to lift him up off the ground.”

---

Naturally, Sokka was still a skeptic. “A pulley system! Hot air from a hidden firebender! Secret underwater sea-vents! Or maybe we all ate something funny and all of this is all in our heads… ” He finished off his sentence by wiggling his fingers as if he was ready to cast a spell.

---

Sokka nodded sharply. “He’s our responsibility, no matter how much I berated him when we met earlier. We need to find that sky monster of his, it’s the only way we’ll be able to catch up with the ship.”

“Aang called it a sky bison.”

“He also didn’t tell us that he was the Avatar, so I’m not sure if we can take everything he says at face value,” Sokka pointed out as Katara rolled her eyes. He cocked a grin. “C’mon, let's go get the little guy.”

“Aang’s taller than you!” Katara called after him, rushing to keep up with Sokka’s longer strides.

“Sure, in his dreams !” The decidedly-shorter-than-Aang boy called back.

---

“Here’s the deal, bucko.” Sokka said matter of factly, accompanying his words with sharp gestures and exaggerated syllables, as if Appa was deaf. “Your friend needs your help, and WE need YOUR help to get to him. You get the picture?” Without waiting for any kind of affirmation, Sokka nodded briskly then scrambled up to Appa’s back, settling into what appeared to be the driver's seat.

Appa did not move, didn’t even blink.

Sokka blinked, utterly bewildered. “How do we get him to, y’know, go ?”

---

“He’s not gonna-” Sokka started, but as Katara slid onto Appa’s back, they felt him begin to levitate. Sokka huffed, crossing his arms dramatically. “Spirits, I hate when you’re right and I’m wrong.” Too concerned to snap a retort back at Sokka, Katara just settled down into her seat, anxiously picking at the leather of her coat.

---

Katara awoke to the loud shout of her brother.

“Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” he yelped, chucking a rock-hard stick of seal jerky at both of them.

“Ouch, Sokka!” Katara snapped at him, rubbing her head at the spot where she had been hit, before realising that she was leaning against Aang and immediately jumping away, blushing furiously.

---

he's so sassy and funny i love sokka so much

♥ find the rest of the fic here!! ->

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fetch-me-penguins · 2 months

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i want to live (Astarion x VampireSpawn! Tav)

Every minute that he holds on without loosing it, is a minute closer to dawn. A minute closer to whatever end this may have. The only thing a vampire can feel is hunger, people say. Gods, he wishes it was true. or Cazador takes Tav.

An angsty take on the premise of Cazador kidnapping Tav to replace a dead spawn on the Ascension ritual.

Read it on AO3

CHPTR 1 (you're here) | CHPTR 2 | CHPTR 3 | CHPTR 4

Out of all the places where they have camped so far, a Guild safehouse was not the one he expected to have the most spectacular view of them all.

At one of the highest points of the Lower City, in the courtyard of a seemingly abandoned summer house, Astarion has an unobstructed view of the sun meeting the sea as it sets in a show of blood orange rays and heavy purple clouds. A gentle wind, running through the trees and the overgrown wild lawn at the courtyard where they have set their camp, the heavy stench of the city getting lost between the blooming flowers and aromatic shrubbery.

He can hear a bellowing bard on a tavern a few properties down, the gliding sound of a sharpening stone against metal some place across the firepit, leaves rustling in the wind, and the owlbear’s claws as he stalks pigeons from behind the dry fountain at the entrance of the courtyard.

It is a beautiful evening at a peaceful camp, and he is indifferent to it all.

Even though he knows in his bones that something is missing, he can’t find it in himself to care.

Such is the nature of the Calm Emotions spell, apparently.

His mind is molasses, stuck on trying to separate his senses from his thoughts despite the throbbing migraine he has been nursing for an eternity, it feels like.

He can’t remember when or what was the last thing he drank, or how many hours he’s been awake. As far as he knows, the log where he sits is the only place where he exists. The only place where he is real and thinks.

There’s a wide pot in front of him, filled with a dark liquid and strange jutting shapes that resemble fabric.

He stares. He is almost sure it’s dye.

Puzzling.

Did he need something dyed? Is the clothing even his? How long has he been sitting here? He can vaguely remember seeing the high noon sun reflected on the surface of the dark water as it steamed and reeked, but surely it hasn’t been that long?

The sun sinks lower, showing off to no one.

The owlbear trips and falls with a thump and a whine, the pigeons fly away in a flurry of loud flapping and cooing. They settle on the roof. The sharpening stone glides. The bard is off pitch. The wind races.

He is cold. His hands and forearms are stained a faint hue of indigo. Like a drow.

They don’t feel his. If he flexes the fingers, they seem to move on a delay. Heavy, clunky.

His body is here, but his will is… somewhere else.

The untethered feeling should be nauseating in its familiarity, but it feels like nothing instead. Jarring, in a detached way his empty brain can’t begin to piece together. A pot of ink poured over a letter to hide whatever secrets it used to hold.

Just like the pounding headache, he hasn’t been able to get rid of the stone slab over his chest, a deep feeling of wrongness that he can’t quite place.

He searches for an anchor, something beyond the log that may make sense and he follows the sound of the sharpening stone.

It’s Karlach, sitting on a crate and sharpening her axe with minute care across the firepit. The orange glow of the sky reflects on the blade, casting light over her red rimmed eyes and a deep frown on her face. The mirror shine of her weapon stirs something in Astarion, a visceral urge to take his own blades and run…somewhere.

The urge fades as soon as it comes, drowned by another wave of numbness that he attempts to resist to no avail. The longer he tries to hold on to the memory of his daggers, the greater the pain grows, snaking beneath his eyes and into his teeth. It makes his forehead feel like it’s about to burst open until he surrenders to it, breathing shallow and bending over the tub.

He is cold. Hungry. And so gods damned tired he can’t even begin to think why, out of all the people in their bloody camp, he was the one given dyeing duty.

A man clears his throat right beside him, and Astarion can’t even bring himself to even blink as he meets Gale’s pitiful attempt at a warm smile.

“Time to take them out, I gather?” he says, gently placing an empty wooden tub at his feet.

He stares at the wizard’s face, the dark purple circles under his eyes and the straining at the corners of his mouth, his pale, dry skin.

He knows he is under a spell. He knows that this wizard is the one holding it over him. And yet, he feels nothing but a faint whisper of annoyance

Puzzling indeed.

Gale’s brows furrow slightly at the silence, and the fog over Astarion’s brain rises and swells. He fights it, trying not to drown in the void again. A throb pierces his temples, a familiar presence scratching and throwing itself with all of its might against the rock solid walls surrounding the numbness and confusion. His will, fighting the spell with almost rabid desperation.

Gale’s strained smile fades, and his eyes sharpen. The fog thickens and Astarion is pretty sure it’s going to split open his head and make him crack his teeth.

“Stop that” he snarls, his lips curling back, barely hearing the sharpening stone stop.

Gale doesn’t step back when Astarion closes in on his space, filling his lungs with the acrid smell of the wizard’s blood, the pain of his own hunger and the raging migraine the only thing standing against the muck in his head.

It’s Gale’s turn to stand still and stare.

“Astarion,” he starts, voice level but not moving an inch, “We agreed to this, remember? You told me yesterday evening to hold the spell until we could set out.”

He can’t remember, and he can’t even be alarmed at the fact that he can’t remember. He can only only puzzle over the here and now, everything else has been swallowed by the numbness.

Gale sighs and steps back, gazing over Astarion’s shoulder and slightly assenting to someone before his eyes return to his face. The fog barely recedes, but the pain dulls to a thud instead of a piercing lance. Astarion all but collapses back on the log, aching to claw at his own chest to force his lungs to take a full breath, to feel something other than the all consuming void.

The other man sinks down to one knee, his eyes searching Astarion’s face with something akin to pity.

Astarion knows himself. Which is why he knows that everything, even this, is amiss.

He should be sneering at the wizard and his pompous self righteousness, furious at the sorry state of his hands, fuming at the bloody bard with a piss poor pitch at the tavern next door, and he should be somewhere else. Somewhere important. The ache of not being there refuses to let him breathe and he can’t understand why, the answers locked behind the closed gates of his mind, tearing apart his temples every time he even thinks of getting them back.

He did this to himself, then. He gave another person his mind on a leash, and agreed to have disobedience punished with pain. And apparently, he made the choice at some point, to let his mind waddle in the muck instead of facing whatever it is that has everyone acting out of sorts. Specially himself.

He must have lost it pretty badly, to have turned to the fucking wizard for help.

Gale settles on the ground and moves the empty tub closer, pulling his long sleeves back and reaching for one of the pieces of fabric closest to the surface. Astarion follows his motions, reaching into the dark water and pulling on a piece of linen, some sort of sleeve now dyed a deep midnight blue.

Gale sighs again and he clears his throat, apparently intending to say something, when a shooting vine bursts from one of the overgrown garden plots, raining down a flurry of roots, clover and the busted pieces of a wooden hatch door. Karlach runs towards the noise, axe in hand, when the muffled sound of Shadowheart’s battle cry is followed by the head of her morningstar, smashing open the rest of the hidden hatch.

Astarion can feel Gale’s concentration on the spell sway, as he gets up and nears the hole in the ground where Shadowheart now has emerged, dragging the tumbling body of a young woman with a burlap sack over her head.

“Don’t tell me that’s-” Gale begins to question, a hint of anger in his tone.

“Yes, she is.” Wyll answers, voice flat as he emerges from the ground, followed by Lae’zel and Jaheira, who watches the scene unfold with her hands on her hips as soon as she is out.

Astarion is about to start twisting the linen shirt in his hands when something makes him stop cold, a whiff of the girl’s scent piercing through the sea of numbness and rattling something inside his chest. Sour sweat, the Flaming Fist’s standard issue soap, traces of orange peel oil. And underneath the drool and bile soaked front of her shirt, wine. Heavily spiced and bitter.

The blood covering her is new, though. It hadn’t been there before, he muses as the headache spreads from his forehead to the back of his scalp.

Shadowheart all but hauls the girl towards the empty rooms surrounding the courtyard and kicks open one of the wooden doors, splintering the frame. She unceremoniously drops the girl on the ground, her skull hitting the floor with a loud crack, and exits the room without looking back, stomping in a beeline towards the water barrel.

The sun has already set behind the ocean, but the bright orange light reflecting on the clouds renders their little group’s gathering around the firepit in a hellish light. Wyll groans as he takes Karlach’s place on the crate, massaging the side of his neck with a grimace. Lae’zel has taken to sitting on a log, her eyes dully following Shadowheart’s pacing from the water barrel to her tent as she forcefully removes pieces of her armour and throws them to the ground. Gale approaches with branches and a couple of thin logs to start their fire for the evening.

Astarion can hear Jaheira talking to a couple of the Harpers guarding the roof, but his eyes follow the interest of his nose, to the darkened room where their new prisoner hasn’t moved. Her wrists are bound, but it seems hardly necessary; she is missing all her fingers, except for her left pinkie.

He doesn’t need the tadpole or his head entirely clear to realize that whatever the rest of his companions were up to during the day, it has not gone over well.

“Well?” Gale prompts, once the silence has stretched long enough.

Wyll stares into the fire and feeds it some small branches before answering, “She said she cannot spare the hands. Specially now that she has weeded out rats on her den. She is gathering whomever can hold a sword to hold together what she can of the city”

Gale’s face contorts in a sneer and the walls around Astarion’s mind tremble.

“Whomever? More orphans? Is that it?” he almost spits out.

Wyll stays silent, and after a beat he responds, strained.

“The Flaming Fist is scattered after my father’s brush with the Absolute, the Watch all but disappeared under Gortash. They have at most two weeks before the fight for the city begins. If I were in her place-” Wyll’s mismatched eyes don’t meet Gale’s when he scoffs. The walls get a few hairline cracks and Astarion can feel the weight over his chest getting heavier and heavier, a vice growing around his throat.

“You wouldn’t have done that. And would have stood by your word.” Gale insists, bitterness seeping further in his tone.

“Chk. Shut up, both of you.” Lae’zel hisses in their direction, “Focus your anger on something useful or stop wasting it.”

Silence fills the fire pit, and Gale seems to get a hold of his temper, the Calm Emotions spell gathering back its steadiness.

“After what we did for them. After what she did for Nine Finger’s, for so many years. I don’t-” Gale sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

“Nine Finger’s is not like either of you.” Jaheira says as she approaches on long strides. “Loyalty in the Guild does not come cheap, and we have earned it. If she’d had the means to pay it back and hold us in her debt, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use them.” She removes the cork to her waterskin and takes a long drink. “But she doesn’t have the means. And the fact it’s one of her most loyal assets is the one in that palace, well…” she lets the sentence wander off into the night, putting the cork back on the waterskin and staring pensively into the fire.

“It was a long shot anyway, but we had to try.” she says with finality, her keen eyes scanning every face across the fire.

The silence stretches as Shadowheart joins the pit, her scowl lessened by exhaustion. Astarion realizes that he is still holding the linen shirt in his hands, his fingers now wrinkled and stained a nearly black shade of blue. He drops it into the dye water once more, the splashing sound of it the only thing to accompany the crackling of the wood burning in the pit.

“What about her?” asks Karlach, nodding in the direction of the room where the girl still hasn’t moved an inch.

Wyll looks pointedly at Jaheira.

“A show of good faith from the Guild. They don’t claim her, or her actions.” she stops once more, staring straight into Astarion’s direction. “We may dispose of her, as we plea-”

“Excuse me?” Gale interrupts her, “Dispose of her? Is this what we are doing now? Are we going to take turns on chopping up the only finger she has left?!”

“Gale, please-” Wyll rises to his feet.

“I hold no love for that-that individual in there. But it’s clear as day, that she has been through enough.”

Jaheira’s face twists into a sneer, her eyes fixating on the flames that seem to grow taller.

“That individual invited spawn into our camp and took our friend, the woman she called sister, to her doom. She has worked against her own Guild, against the Gate, for months! You cannot fathom the damage she has done!”

“She almost succeeded in killing me, so I can gather some! But I won’t be her executioner. She didn’t need to walk on her own broken feet all the way here, just to end up in a gallow with a different view!”

Jaheira seems to grow larger in the whipping light of the fire, her cold stare turning slowly towards Gale.

“Do you need a list of what that bastard is doing to our friend in that palace, wizard? Can you stop thinking of yourself for a minute?”

Gale’s concentration snaps like a tree in a hurricane, and Astarion gets a taste of everything he has been holding back.

He is a pig for the slaughter, a bloody canal has split open his chest and cracked open his ribs, but his lungs are frozen, refusing to expand. The firepit tilts, his vision blurs in a red and black fog, the burning logs and heated voices turn into a senseless cacophony that rises endlessly. He heaves onto the floor, his brain tearing itself apart between running away into the sunset or darting into the streets of the Lower City, gutting everything that may cross his path on his way to rip apart Aurelia and Leon, for what they have dared to take from him. She is gone, she is gone, he took her screaming four days ago and he is waiting for Astarion to come willingly to the slaughterhouse, to present his neck for sacrifice a second time. The wine on the girl’s clothes is an Utterdark, a favourite of the Master; a sickeningly familiar mix of spices, forever intertwined in his brain with the scent of rotting blood, rat piss and spawn waste in the kennels. Nails dig into his scalp, a burning pain that instead of tether him as it should, sinks him further into the sea of despair. The wine had been the only whiff of a smell on his year inside the coffin, the Master pouring himself a glass over the stone lid, just to let him catch its scent mixed with blood already in the glass. He hears his screeching laugh, the rattling of the chain whip, his own molars breaking, broken bone grinding against raw nerves and vermin flesh. She is there, she is strapped onto the rack, the stones of the palace drinking in her precious blood. And he is here, loosing his fucking mind in front of his own companions.

It stops at once, just like it began.

He finds himself on his hands and knees, staring to the cobblestone floor in the courtyard of the camp. The heavy silence only interrupted by Gale’s quiet cursing and Astarion’s own ragged breathing.

His arms tremble and he is so dizzy that he lets himself flop down on his back, shadows at the edges of his vision creeping back and forth in time with the renewed thudding at the back of his brain. His throat is raw and his breath shallow, but slowly a few stars blur back into focus, alongside a tiefling’s worried face hovering over him.

“This is not about revenge, Jaheira” a male voice says. There’s a slow breath before an answer comes.

“That is not the reason why she is here.”

The tiefling is slow and deliberate on guiding Astarion by the shoulders, first to get up from the ground and then to sit down on a log close to the fire. He lets himself be steered, still too addled to feel any hint of disgust towards himself for it.

The fire is mesmerizing, a much better sight than Gale’s conflicted face as something seems to dawn on him, and Jaheira’s solemn expression when she readies to speak again.

“The truth has to be spoken. Hazel has most likely been turned by now. We need to plan accordingly. And for that, we need to talk. All of us.”

She walks closer and drops to a knee in front of Astarion, blocking his sight of the fire and the blurry silhouettes of their companions. Her aged face fills his vision, her eyes purposeful but not unkind.

“We need you here, Astarion, really here. You know the inside of his lair, the dirty tricks he may use. Any advantage we can get, we need it now. We have to move at dawn.”

He is still shaking mildly, phantom traces of whatever had been going through his mind before he found himself crawling on the floor still floating around the fog inside his brain. It is an instinct to avoid Jaheira’s searching stare, whatever part of his brain that actually understands what she is saying taking control.

Her brows furrow slightly before softening again, her face loosing some of the tension around her eyes and mouth. She almost seems to grow old in front of him.

“I know a thing or two about loosing people, my friend. But the day they took my husband from me…” her eyes get lost on some point over Astarion’s shoulder, her mouth forming a thin line before she returns her gaze to him, “I have not forgotten that pain. So know, that when I ask you to let the spell run its course and get yourself together, I am aware of what it means.”

The walls around his mind hold back most of it, but the taste of bile at the back of his throat is reminder enough of the full force of what is happening beyond the limits of the spell. He’s not just drowning in despair. He’s terrified.

“He will be waiting.” His voice is a broken, whispered thing.

“Yes.” Jaheira answers, holding his gaze without flinching. “But you are not alone.”

His eyes drift towards the fire at her back, where a log and some pieces of broken furniture have been fed to the fire. The far off bard hasn’t stopped singing, although there’s a distinctly nostalgic quality to his bellowing now.

The tune is familiar, tugging at the strings in his throat and pounding at the insides of his temples.

The girl’s blood sings to him from a few meters away, but the wine on her clothes stills him with an iron grip at the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

The druid sighs, and after a moment of consideration, she leans in closer.

“You know to fear your former master. But right now, you need to bear your teeth through that fear; let it wash over you and believe that you will get to dwell on it once everything is said and done. If not for her, for yourself.” She whispers, quieter than the breeze running through the courtyard.

His body has been numb and foreign for days, like a sleeping limb that refuses to recover sensation. At some point in the last five minutes though, the walls have thinned. He can feel it now, distant but clear. The wind on his arms, and a rising sense of panic that clings to her every word.

“You get to try to get her back. You get a chance to put the spawn on the ground and rise as your own man, Astarion.” Her hand is warm as she grips onto his, her earnest eyes unblinking. “You get to try. So try.”

He can feel it creeping on his spine, wrapping itself around his ribs and deep inside his skull. The full force of the last four days looming on the horizon, a wave gaining height.

Jaheira waits and doesn’t let go of his stained hand. The wind howls through the trees, the fire crackles and whips into the darkened sky.

You are not alone, she said. He knows these words, they matter to him. They echo in his bones, they loosen his chest just enough.

He grips Jaheira’s hand in return and assents before letting go. He closes his eyes and feels the walls crumble all the way, the crest of despair standing still for a moment.

This time he has half a mind to turn around, before it drags him under.

.............................................

He has no idea who the nonchalant performance is for any more, but at this point of the night he is way to exhausted to puzzle over anything.

Wyll, Karlach and Gale linger at the fire, spitting venom at Nine Fingers and her excuses, whilst Astarion wipes his hands of the grime from sharpening the last of the blades he’s settled on taking with him. He sneers at his hands, still dark blue and now smelling of steel shavings and polish. A cleric, a druid and a former Chosen of Mystra, bested by a bit of indigo dye.

He is not feeling optimistic about their chances.

Although, that may have more to do with the hunger burning a hole through his abdomen, rather than the actual state of affairs.

The spell may be lifted, and he may be able to take shallow breaths now, but its mostly because he has willed himself not to think about it, any of it.

There’s plenty to stew over anyway.

Like the fact that the pedantic vampire lord would surely choke on his wine if he knew that there existed a floor plan of his state on some courtyard in the Lower City, drawn by his own spawn with a piece of chalk. Crude marks for hidden entrances that Astarion knew like the back of his eyelids, traps that he’d been an unfortunate test subject for; and a short explanation, given in the flattest, most unconcerned voice he’d managed, of what intimately little he knew of Cazador’s magical preferences.

If Jaheira had been expecting more, she doesn’t show it. She merely nods and listens, even as Gale’s heart skips a beat at the mention of necromancy, and Karlach mutters a dejected “Of course” the moment he mentions Cazador’s misty form he’d used once, on a game of cat and mouse on the one night he’d dared to visit his own grave. Useless details they don’t get to know.

It may not be all that his former master can do, and he knows it well. But it is well past what Astarion could stomach to tell.

The metallic tang of polish clings to his skin with stubbornness, and the tavern next door has fallen silent a while ago. The wind rustles through the leaves above and he can tell with acute awareness, that the blood on the girl’s stumps has soaked through one of her bandages.

He clings to the pain in his gut, forcing himself to turn his head towards the fire instead of the alluring dark room. He is drawn to it, the way a fly aims for a rotting carcass on the street; and he feels the same disgust for that girl the way he does for the fly.

No one has mentioned her again. Not Wyll, who is strategically sitting down so he is giving his back to her, and not Jaheira, who marched off to the stairs the moment they could hear Minsc’s loud ramblings coming up the street.

If he focuses on the twisting pain at the maw of his stomach, he can’t think of the hole in his chest. If he tries, with all the might of his weakened senses, to hear the wretch’s rabbit heart pumping away, he can let the hunger eat him whole for a moment, and pretend that it is the only thing he has to worry about.

He is dizzy, the vision of his dry, splotchy hands blurring slightly, when he hears Minsc yelling just a few feet away from him.

“Astarion! Astarion, look!”

He barely has the time to lift his eyes before a longbow is placed in the very hands he’d been sneering at. He blinks several times, trying to focus on the thing. It gives off a faint, familiar glow.

“Wait. I’ve seen that thing somewhere.” Karlach wonders as she approaches.

“Ah yes! Minsc had forgotten, Karlach was there too when we pawned it off!”

That quip makes things fall into place. The Devil’s Fee. And what a fee it had been.

Gontr Mael is still one of the finest bows he has ever held. It had pained him to give it up, but they had needed to bypass the bloody diabolist as soon as possible to follow their idiot leader into the House of Hope.

Back then, even when things had been strained between them, he hadn’t hesitated to give up his most precious bow if it meant reaching her in time, even if he’d had such precious little time to enjoy its weight on his hand.

It had been so simple.

“Helsik gave it back?” he asks, in a slightly hoarse voice, as his hands find the spikes along the bow’s body and pluck at the tight string that binds both ends. As perfect as it had been then.

“A bit of persuasion and promises were needed, but not nearly as much as we had feared.” Halsin answers.

“Ha! Well, she still owes us nine thousand gold. She got so much of our stuff, and those gloves? Man, don’t get me started.” Karlach laments.

Astarion can nearly hear Halsin’s smile when he answers.

“In such case-”

“No way!”

He has a moment to feel a crumb Karlach’s joy as she takes the Hill Giant Guantlets from Halsin and almost squeals, the deep frown in her forehead temporarily smoothed out.

He catches sight of Jaheira by his tent as she drops the quiver of arrows by the entrance. As she notices his attention, she points her face quietly towards the dark room.

He leaves all the muscle gushing over their newly reacquired weapons and he approaches the broken threshold of the room, where Jaheira meets him with crossed arms, staring at the rumpled figure on the floor.

“So this is what our village berserk has been up to for the day.” He comments, following one of the bow’s sharp spikes to its curved end.

“The knucklehead was not going to let Astele's reasoning go unchallenged, no matter how sound it may be.”

The girl’s breath is shallow, the skin of her neck bathed in sweat. The heart still beats, weak and fast, but still alive. Beckoning him into the dark, an itching in his bones to rip apart this bag of meat that clings stubbornly to life.

He grits his teeth, and tightens his hold on the bow. A bitter reunion, if there ever was one.

He has plenty of those in his near future.

“Nine Finger’s was about to get rid of her when we got to the Guildhall. She offered to let us do the honours.”

“So you dragged her all the way here.”

She stays silent, staring at the girl. She walked the whole passage from the Guild to the safehouse and she had every chance to end it. To drop the girl and let her die in the darkness of the tunnel instead of pushing her onto his hands. But not only she hadn’t done that, she had apparently talked Wyll into it too.

“Why?”

Jaheira takes her time to answer.

“They say that the only thing a vampire can feel is hunger. Nothing else touches them — not grief, or mercy. Or any sense of what is just.”

Out of all the things the master ever used against him, the hunger was the one that had kept him in the tightest leash. Eating had been as agonizing as being hungry, the compulsion that made him crawl on his belly for rats would never truly leave him, even if he had no master.

Only one thing would, the one thing he is trying his damn hardest not to think about.

“Well. There must be something to it, then.”

“Perhaps.” she hums and leans back from the creaky door frame, shifting her gaze towards him. “Maybe a sense of what is just escapes most of us, not only the undead.”

Silence falls over both of them. He is almost afraid of it now. He has no escape, torn between his hunger and the frightening amount of contempt he feels for the woman on the floor.

He could see Hazel all over her, when they met her at the Basilisk door. The plain appearance and mended uniform hiding the quick wit and the muddy secrets.

She had vouched for them at the entrance to the Guild. She had been funny, she had watched over Mol when she entered the Guildhall and Hazel had been so relieved to see her that she’d almost seemed to float. The girl’s eyes had lingered on him, as so many eyes did now that he could be seen by day, and Hazel had teased him about it. An olive branch to try and stay the rift that was tearing them apart.

She hadn’t been attracted to him, he knows it now. She had been zeroing in on her prize.

Her name was Meg. Hazel had called her nutmeg twice, truly smiling for the first time in days.

He may loathe her, but he knows he will not enjoy this one bit.

“Try to get some sleep, Astarion. We need you at your best.” Jaheira says as she leans in and takes the bow from his right hand, turning away towards the firepit and leaving him alone.

He goes into the room and swings the door closed, decidedly ignoring the dejected sigh Gale lets out.

Alone and in the dark, his dark vision reveals details of the room in shades of black and gray. The scent of the girls blood blooms and fills his lungs with mouth watering expectation. The richness of a healthy human, a sprinkle of bitter adrenaline, and the foulness of the Utterdark wine still on her clothes.

If he had been near enough to camp to smell the wine, he would have known that the girl was an envoy of Cazador, even if she herself had no idea who she worked for. But he hadn’t been there.

And none of them had known who took her, not until it was too late.

The heavy silence settles on his shoulders and at the bottom of his neck. He wonders if it was done on purpose, the wine spilling over her clothes the moment Cazador decided to reveal his hand in a way only Astarion would understand.

Knowing that it would make him remember who he truly was.

He could make her suffer, he ponders. Make whatever Nine Fingers had done look like mercy.

He could give her some semblance of dignity. Prop her up against a wall and be done with it.

Or, he could just give in. Surrender to the instinct already thrashing beneath his ribs.

He could go down under, give control of his body to the ghost of a predator living inside his head, go away for an instant and come back once it’s over, one last time.

It’s easy, really. He truly makes things harder for himself when he thinks.

His legs seem to move on string, kneeling besides her on the ground. His hands follow the lead, removing the burlap sack over the girl’s head. Her breathing is shallow and she cries weakly as his fingers grip onto dark hair to tilt her head back. Her neck is already marred by a dark, thick rope burn; the markings of a noose.

If her blood smelled as foully as the Moonrise drow’s had, maybe he would have an excuse for the full body shiver of disgust that makes him close his eyes and cower deeper inside his head. Her blood smells fine. They need this. He needs this.

Bear your teeth through it, let it wash over you, Jaheira had said, whilst Gale had sighed like if he was the one destined for the gallows.

They know why the girl is here. They know what he is doing in the dark. They know that only one walking corpse will leave the room.

He was told to dwell on it when everything is said and done. So he will.

He feels his back bend and his jaw opens wide.

His mouth fills and he swallows pull after pull of something warm and soothing. He sinks his fangs again, digging deeper between the tissue, and he drinks everything he can. He focuses on the warmth spreading to his fingers and the clearing of his head, the burning at the mouth of his stomach cooling down at last.

He does not want to heave onto the floor. He is not avoiding to touch her skin with his lips as much as possible. He is not considering pulling the burlap sack over her head again.

He is not thinking of running away.

He is not.

Astarion straightens up and stares at the cooling body on the ground. Even though she has lost some blood in the last few hours, his senses sharpen to a needle point once more, the aches around his body only a sign that he really needs to lie down.

Jaheira’s awful fiddle plays into the night. Gale seems to be roasting almonds in the fire.

Every minute that he holds on without loosing it, is a minute closer to dawn. A minute closer to whatever end this may have.

The only thing a vampire can feel is hunger, people say.

Gods, he wishes it was true.

.............................................

The halfling behind the bar is the only soul in the Guildhall when their merry band makes their entrance. Astarion finds the lack of blood and innards pleasantly mundane, even if the smell is still atrocious.

As soon as the guard at Nine Fingers’ office lays eyes on them, she opens one of her doors and the Guildmaster’s voice emerges from inside. It doesn’t stop in whatever it is saying, not even as the guard signals in Thieves Cant to someone inside.

‘They’re here.’

Nine Fingers must be the one answering, because the guard looks back to them and motions towards the inside. Jaheira steps forward, and he is about to make his way to the bar with the rest of the party, when a quick whistle catches his attention back to the wooden door.

It’s the guard, making another familiar sign whilst holding his gaze.

‘You too.’

The scraping sound of chairs being opened and the heavy clang of weapons placed on the bar top accompany the slight dread that dawns on him as he approaches on quiet steps, focusing on whatever it is that Nine Fingers’ has been talking about this whole time.

“-I don’t give two shits if your wife is in labour Stefan! I want every bloody rat on this den exterminated by midnight. Don’t come back until it’s done.”

Jaheira seems intrigued as she approaches the door, dodging the unassuming young man that exits the office in a hurry.

The moment they enter the now familiar cavernous space, he can tell the situation is far different from their first meeting a couple of weeks ago. Nine Fingers is alone at her desk, dressed in leather armour even though it is close to midnight.

She may look composed, but the bulging vein on the right side of her forehead gives her away. The moment her eyes fall on him, her pulse quickens and a frown settles on her forehead.

“Where the hells have you been?! I’ve been trying to get a Sending to you for the last two fucking hours!” her eyes fix upon Jaheira as the older woman walks calmly to her desk, her voice rising slightly after the doors have been closed once more.

She is furious.

He shares the sentiment. Jaheira just seems tired.

“Apologies, Guildmaster. Bad reception at the Murder Tribunal.” the druid retorts, lowering herself on a chair without invitation. Astarion stays far from the desk, in what he can guess is the periphery of Nine Fingers’ field of vision. Just in case.

A beat of silence passes, as Nine Fingers pours a finger of whisky on a glass and pushes it towards Jaheira. She offers none to him.

He is over this conversation and it hasn't even begun. He wonders what even is he doing here.

“Got what you were looking for?” she asks, the vein at her forehead pulsing in the low light.

No, he thinks bitterly. He didn’t get what he had been looking for, because Hazel hadn’t ever been at the Temple of Bhaal.

Halsin had, but that was a given anyway. He even was unharmed and had been unconscious for most of everything, for all the good that did him.

But Hazel hadn’t been there. Not on the slab, not as decoration on the hallways or hiding between the cultists, as he’d dared to hope in a last bid to make the journey worth it. Orin hadn’t even known what they meant when they demanded she reveal her second captive.

The might have gotten rid of the last Chosen of the Dead Three and taken possession of her netherstone, but they hadn’t found their leader.

It had made sense back then, to think that the changeling had been the one to take her. He’d returned from his Minsc chaperoned diner excursion to a ravished camp, no Hazel and a letter written in blood, congratulating the party on killing Gortash.

It’s been a while since he has truly put his mind to try and understand anything that happens to them on a daily basis, and of course the one time he actually cares to follow the reasoning behind what their escapades, it has to fall apart.

At least he hadn’t been the only one dumbfounded at the Temple. Too bad Hazel hadn't been there to see Gale gape like a fish and be speechless for once.

“We did.” Jaheira responds. “A few errands to attend to now, before we move onto the brain and get this over with.”

The low light in the office may work to hide her from human eyes, but his darkvision reveals Nine Fingers’ face and the steady tick that pulls at her left bottom eyelid.

“A pity that your guiding shrub will miss all the action, after everything she did to get here.”

She must have guessed this was the way the conversation would go, because Jaheira merely blinks and stares at the woman across from her in silence. She hasn't touched the whisky glass.

“If you know something, you better spit it out Astele.”

“Of course I bloody well know something! I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me for the past three days, Jaheira. She’s Guild, she is ours too, for fuck’s sake.”

“She isn’t. Not any more.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe it’s the raising thirst gnawing at the bottom of his stomach, or perhaps it is the past three endless days that make him say out loud the thing that Hazel had only ever said to him through the tadpole. Or maybe it’s her tone. Her particular choice of words that remind him of his own former master.

Nine Fingers’ eyes snap from Jaheira to him, her face a mask of ice cold rage. This is the first time she has truly had him on her sight, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Think it’s that simple, Astarion? Leaving what we are behind? You better think again, because you past is catching up.”

Everything recedes. Nine Fingers’ racing pulse, Jaheira’s furrowed brow, even his own awareness of his name on her voice and the wrongness of it.

“What?”

“Your head is catching a pretty penny on the bounty hunter market these days. And yet, you’re still here. Bet you didn’t even notice the four hunters and the Shadow Thief that almost cashed in, did you?”

He thinks back to the last few weeks and can only think of one body out of place on the periphery of their errands at the Gate. But he can see Hazel’s dark circles grow purple and deep, taking guard more often and for longer, making her own tent and renting her own bed instead of joining him at his. He had assumed it had been because of their fallout after their increasingly bitter Ascension talks, but he’d only been partly right.

She had known.

“I warned her that you were trouble, that she should keep her distance.” Nine Fingers continues, holding him still with the weight of her accusatory glare.“Trust a thief in a hurry and a fool in love to run into the same wall twice.”

“I couldn't think of the kind of enemies you've made to have such an obscene bounty on your head, but now that the splashback of your shitshow has gotten me too, I can get an idea. Not many creatures in this city have to send a decoy first, to ask for permission to be let in.”

Whatever Jaheira says next gets overpowered by a shrill ringing in his ears. He barely gets to hear the name of Cazador Szarr leave Nine Fingers’ lips before he is pushing open her doors just to get away from the sound.

The empty Guildhall is still the same, his companions sprawled on the bar stools.

“Hey, Fangs! We got you some wine!” Karlach sing-songs, pointing at a glass in front of an empty chair.

He is paralysed at the threshold for a moment, his ribcage frozen mid breath.

“Astarion?” Wyll asks, getting up from his seat, “Are you alright?”

What now? What now that he has her? What now that she has been there for three days whilst they have been parading around and saving the world?

What now that she is dead?

“Slow down, what are you saying?” a voice beneath a sea of cotton asks, hazy silhouettes closing in on him.

His vision blurs. He can’t breathe. Where are his blades?

Hands reach over, gripping at his arms, his back. Growing whispers of something that sounds like his name but make no sense. No, she isn’t dead. What she is now, is much, much worse than that.

He has to go. Find anything to drink and then he will do something. Something other than doom her as he has been doing the past three days where he has play acted at being something that he is not.

See what happens when you leave your place, child?

A large red shadow looms over his vision, it reaches for him. The Master, come to take him where he stands and return him to his place. He is terrified. He wants to throw up. He wants to rip something apart. He wants to cry and beg to let him go. He wants to disappear.

Although you may try to deny it, what I made you had always been in you, son.

He reaches for the dagger at his hip.

A sudden bright light shines on his eyes and blinds him. A blanket of cold numbness cuts through the terror, making his vision clear and his hand relax. A metallic rattle echoes around the high vaulted ceilings of the empty Guildhall as he hears a blade falls to his feet.

Everything is quiet as colour and shape return slowly to his eyes.

Karlach holds a bleeding slash on her right palm, but her worried eyes don’t leave his face. Her blood drips onto the stone floor. Shadowheart is just beside her, her hands still emitting a faint yellow glow.

Gale makes his way from the edges of his vision, his hands raised. He looks remorseful. Astarion distantly wonders why.

“You’re under the Calm Emotions spell, Astarion. I’m… I’m sorry.”

His hands are too heavy to grasp at the dagger again, Gale’s words drip onto his brain one by one.

“We’ll figure this out, just—just hold on.”

He is cold.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fandom #bg3 #bg3 tav #writers on tumblr #fanfic #first fanfic #please be nice

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vodika-vibes · 7 months

Note

Round 4 *ding ding ding*

(This definitely feels like I'm taking advantage of you)

Tup and "Either go to bed and get some rest willingly or will drag your butt down the hall kicking and screaming. You know I'll have no problem with either option."

Okay, I'm breaking my own rule, but I thought it would be interesting to see the other side of Tup. You know, the side where sweet Tup isn't working and he needs to pull out the big guns?

Please and thank you, my love 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Time for Bed

Summary: You've been working for far, far too long...and Tup has a problem with it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x Reader

Word Count: 776

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023

Divider by Saradika

You’ve been awake for…god, you don’t even know how long. Blearily, you cast your gaze to the chrono and stare at it blankly for a moment. It takes you a lot longer than it should for your eyes to focus on the numbers blinking innocently on the screen.

Oh. It’s 6 am, that’s not too bad.

Aside from the fact that you’ve been working since 5 am…yesterday.

It’s fine. Sleep is for the weak, or something. Besides, this project is important.

As in, if you don’t finish by the deadline people will be looking for your body for years to come, important.

Luckily, you’re almost done. You just have to write one more paragraph, and then you’re free to send it up to your direct supervisor for editing and everything else.

You slam out the paragraph in less than ten minutes and lean back in your chair as the spelling and grammar check runs through all 50 pages you’ve typed in the last 25 hours.

And the moment it pops up with no glaring mistakes, you save it, attach it to an email, and then send it to your boss, and you lean back in your chair. The chrono blinks 5:45 at you, and you sigh. There’s no point in trying to sleep now.

You might as well wait until this evening before you try to sleep. It’ll be fine. It’s not like you have any plans.

You spin your office chair around so you can stand without bumping into your desk, and yelp when you see Tup, your Tup, standing in the doorway. “Tup!” You press your hand over your heart, “I didn’t hear you!”

“I noticed.” He leans against the doorframe and you notice that he has an unimpressed brow raised in your direction. “Cyare, baby, love of my life-” Tup pushes off of the frame and walks over to you, setting his hands on your shoulders, “You’ve been working for over 24 hours. It’s time for bed.”

You smile up at him, “It’s fine, I can just wait until tonight.” You try to reassure, only for your smile to falter when he shoots you an unimpressed look. “It’s fine, really. I’m not even tired,” You add.

“Uh-huh.” Tup takes a step back and folds his arms over his broad chest, “Either you go to bed and get some rest willingly or I will drag your butt down the hall kicking and screaming.” He smiles, and you're suddenly reminded that your sweet, gentle Tup is just as much a soldier as his brothers, “You know I’ll have no problem with either option.” He finishes.

“I…” You pause, and then you hold your arms out to Tup, “Will you stay with me? At least until I fall asleep?”

Tup huffs and takes your hands to pull you to your feet. And then he scoops you into his arms, “Spoiled,” He chides lightly as he turns and walks out of your office and down the hall to your shared bedroom.

“Pleasssse, Tup?” You ask, as you look up at him with the saddest eyes you can muster.

He muffles a laugh, and kisses your forehead, “Yes, my sweet, spoiled cyare. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He gently sets you on your side of the bed, and tucks the blankets around you.

“Wait!”

Tup sighs deeply, “Cyare-”

“I just need my pajamas!” You say hurriedly, able to hear the frustration in his voice. Even Tup can only be pushed so far, after all.

He gives you a pointed look, and pushes you down to your pillow, before he stands and grabs the top of his blacks from the day before, and flings them at you from across the room, “Here.”

“Thank you,” You chirp at him before you shift and squirm under the blankets to replace your work clothes with his warm shirt, and then you toss your work clothes on the floor and curl up in a ball.

And when Tup slides into bed next to you, you release a happy noise, and roll so you’re able to press yourself against his warmth, “I thought you said you weren’t tired,” He teases, his voice low and soothing as he runs his hand down your back.

“‘M not.” You reply, as your eyes flutter closed, “Just love being near Tup.”

“I love you too, cyare.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head as your breathing evens out and you slip into a deep slumber almost immediately. And then he glances at the chrono, and decides that more sleep wouldn’t hurt, and he slides down in bed to curl himself around you.

#star wars #tcw #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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miradelletarot · 4 months

Text

Part 3: The Fury and the Fire - The Weave and the Vines

Summary: Elminster left after delivering his punishing news. While the others in camp are equally shocked and upset with the news, none seem to be taking harder than Sagora. When she isolates herself, Gale can't help but be worried about her safety.

TAGS: Angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort

Words: 2,242 | AO3 “Yours must be the sacrifice that will undo the Absolute.” The words squirmed through Sagora’s brain with more fervor than the tadpoles residing within her.

She was glad when Elminster left the camp. Another moment longer, and she might have taken the form of an owlbear, and shredded him into so many pieces that even Mystra wouldn’t be able to find the remains. The fire in her eyes was so wild that Astarion himself feared making a snarky comment in the off-chance she would incinerate him with a mere glance. The heat and tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Gale softly made an attempt at subduing her rising rage, but was met with a venomous sting that rivaled the most poisonous of creatures.

He gingerly reached for her shoulder. “...Sagora? Are you –” She snapped away from him as if to avoid being electrocuted. “Don’t touch me.” She backed away from Gale, and pushed her way between their other companions. Sprinting to the cliffs' edge near where they made camp, she did a swan dive over the edge as she shifted into a dire raven, and flew off into the twilight sky. It was dangerous to go off alone, but she needed to release her rage as far from everyone as possible.

* * *

Wyll offered to prepare the camp’s meal instead of Gale. He had enough on his mind that evening. Gale understood the task he was given, assessing that it was both an appropriate punishment and penance for his folly. It didn’t make the pain of his new reality harder to swallow, however. Worse still, everyone in camp tried to either make small talk to help him feel better, or outright share their misgivings at Mystra’s absurd demands when all he wanted was to just be alone. After finally indulging everyone’s thoughts and feelings in camp, Gale retired to his tent hoping for respite. He anxiously rearranged his tent, and thumbed through damn near every book he had on hand. Nothing settled his worried mind. She’s been gone for hours now. Intrusive thoughts raced through his already overwhelmed mind. This is your fault, you know. She left because of you. You betrayed her like you betrayed your goddess. If she gets attacked while she’s out there alone you’ll have only yourself to blame. He had enough. Spell components and weapons in hand, he rushed out of his tent, and walked past his companions who were circled around the fire as they enjoyed a warm meal. “Gale, are you hungry?” He ignored Karlach. Wyll stood, and sprinted after him. It took him some effort to keep up with Gale in his focused state. “Gale, c’mon. Sit down and breathe a minute. We can figure this out. It’ll be fi –” “ – No, Wyll.” He stopped to look at Wyll with an intensity not usually seen by his allies. “I have had my fair share of follies for one lifetime. This is one mistake I’d like to rectify…while I still can.” He stalked off leaving Wyll behind.

He pointed to the end of his quarterstaff. “Lux via.” A warm radiance illuminated the night around him. As he neared the edge of the plateau, he drew a small feather from his pouch, and closed a fist around it. “Facera Ascendio.” The Weave sparked in Gale’s hand as he gestured in the air, causing the feather to vanish, and disappear along with his incantation in the wind. He flew off the edge in Sagora’s direction in hopes that he would find her safe.

* * *

It wasn’t easy trying to navigate the valley below. Gale lost count of how many times he cast Fly on himself just to try and find her. His latest spell wore off leaving him in a dark clearing near a patch of trees. Thank the gods for the bit of light he had. He had wandered what felt like the entire Mountain Pass, but still hadn’t located her.

All was quiet for a moment. Nothing more than a gentle breeze, or a cricket’s song broke the silence of the night around him. Gale collected another feather, preparing to cast another spell when the silence was ruptured by distant, bone-chilling screeching sounds. Normally he would avoid the obvious sounds of danger nearby, but Sagora was out here alone as far as he knew. What if she’s in danger? He thought. No time to dally. Like a moth to a flame he ran towards the sounds. He stopped at the apex of the hill when he saw an owlbear rampaging and screeching at the nearby trees as if they were foes attempting to slaughter the beast before them. Tufts of fur and feathers blown everywhere as the creature mercilessly clawed at the trees, entirely consumed with rage. The extensive damage caused a tree to fell one of its weaker branches, and fell on top of the owlbears’ body. With a yelp, the owlbear was knocked prone, and the magic faded to reveal a bloodied, red-haired druid. Sagora. Gale took off down the hill to reach her. The adrenaline coursed through her veins allowing her to fling the branch off with relative ease. She stood – not realizing Gale was approaching from behind – and began to scream, and sob as she flung spells at anything she could damage.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!! ” Fire, Ice, thorns, and vines flew through the air with reckless abandon as she wailed. The pressure of this mission was too much. Everyone’s problems, their traumas, and the fate of Faerûn fell squarely on her shoulders. The man she was falling in love with, now charged with an excruciating death as penance for his sins. I got too close. I felt too much. She thought.

“Sagora! Stop!” His pleas nearly silenced by an onslaught of magical vines hurled in his direction before she realized who called to her. She was a mess of earth, blood, sweat, and tears, the heat coming off her body nearly rivaling Karlach’s. She fell to her knees in an exhausted, sobbing mess. Gale approached her, and while he wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and tell her everything would be okay, he wasn’t even sure himself. He knelt in front of her, reaching a hand toward her face to sweep some of her hair out of her face. “Sagora, I…I’m so sorry.” Again, she rejected his attempts at affection as she jerked away from him. Through gritted teeth and flowing, hot tears, she shouted at him all of the unsaid feelings she kept like a secret. “Tell me, Gale! How long were you gonna let this go?? Hmm?! All your sweet words, and kind demeanor were they just to win me over? So you could bed me before you kill yourself for your bitch goddess?!” She wanted her words to sting, and sting they did. Her words stabbed him in the gut like a dagger. “Do you take me for a fool, Gale? Am I just your toy to play with until you run back to Mystra’s tits??” More poison oozed from her lips, rendering his very soul. All he could do was stare back at her, and allow the assault to happen. “Ever since the fucking Nautiloid, I have taken care of everyone else’s problems! Help the grove, save the tieflings, find Halsin, kill the goblins, Get to Moonrise to find Wyll’s father, deliver Shadowheart to her goddess, stop an arrogant wizard from exploding by feeding him magical items… SHALL I GO ON!?” Gale’s brows curled upward as sadness and regret washed over him.

She let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve hardly had a moment to mourn my mother’s death. My father’s supposed to be in Baldur’s Gate. I don’t even know if he’s aware that she died. I was captured before I could send word. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to find my father once we get there. If we get there.” She sighed again, shakily, trying to stop herself from crying again. “My grove needs a leader. I am that leader now that mother’s gone.” Her voice softened finally. “Assuming they haven’t presumed me dead yet.” “Sagora…”

“I know, Gale. I’m an ass. More worried about my own problems when you literally have a bomb that could level a city, in your chest.” “No. Sagora… please.” His expression was insistent enough to make her fall silent. “The news from Elminster is certainly not an easy thing for me to digest, but I failed to realize just how many burdens you placed on yourself. It’s far too much for one person.”

Within the brief moment of quiet between them, Gale waved his hand and whispered an incantation to help clean the blood and dirt from Sagora’s body. “Thank you,” she whispered as she glanced down at her hands. “You’re right though.” She cocked a brow at him. “I can be quite arrogant at times I suppose. Such is the nature of a young man who garnered the attention of a goddess. One starts to think they are actually something quite special in this world. Oh, how silly a notion that is.” He paused. Finally, he was forced to think about his situation, and the relationship he once held with Mystra. “I want to be furious with you, Gale. Truly. But, I’m not sure if I should be angry with you because you lied about the orb, your relationship with Mystra, or the fact that I was foolish enough to fall in love with a man who is ready to die for a goddess who doesn’t respect him.” Shit. Her true feelings rushed forth like a waterfall, untamed. There’s no taking that back now.

Gale carefully extended his hand to hers until the tips of their fingers touched. She didn’t recoil this time. He fully took her hand into his, smoothing his thumb over a bruise that already began to surface.

“Yes, she and I were lovers once. But there is no love lost between us. I see that now. I’m not sure I’m ready to die for someone who so easily cast me aside. However, I am willing to keep an open mind. Not for her, but for the sake of Faerûn.” Sagora’s lip quivered as she made a fruitless attempt to choke back another wave of tears. He raised one hand to her cheek, and gently swept away the fresh tears that trailed down her face. His touch only made her feel more. “I would never take advantage of you. You’re not a play thing either. I could never trifle with your heart like that.” Despite the emotional mess she found herself in, she could tell his words were sincere. His gentle eyes pierced into her soul, and made her heart skip a beat. “ I don’t want you to die. There has to be another way. I’m sure of it. Whatever it is, we’ll find it.” The fatigue finally took her over as she let out a heavy breath, and slumped into his chest. Gale hurriedly grabbed his waterskin, and brought it to her lips coaxing her to take a sip. “C’mon now, Love. You’re overheated. Take a drink for me.” He cradled her as she lazily sipped the cool mountain water, her parched lips struggling to be quenched. If she had the energy, she would have gulped it down greedily. Gale took a moment to think as he stowed his waterskin. “Can you shape into something smaller? I only have enough components for one of us to fly back, but you are in no condition to navigate yourself. I’ll carry you.” They had rested long enough for her to muster up the energy to shift into a feline form. He cast his fly spell once again, and scooped up Sagora before taking off. She was small enough that she curled up into the front of his robes. He cradled her through the fabric to ensure she wouldn’t fall out, and lead them both back to camp.

* * *

Gale landed back at camp as gracefully as he could so as not to wake the sleeping feline bundle. Everyone in camp was asleep by now except for Astarion – who looked like he just returned from his own adventure as he casually flicked a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth. “ Wellll…” He drawled out. “The wizard abruptly leaves to find a druid, and returns with a cat.” Gale’s brows furrowed. “This isn’t some cat, Astarion. It’s Sagora.” His words were rough, but hushed. “Oh, Gale, you take me far too seriously. I was just teasing after all.” Astarion’s lips curled into a sly, cheeky grin. Gale huffed, and continued walking toward her tent, Astarion following closely behind. As gently as he could, Gale coaxed her tired form out of his robes, gingerly placing her on her bedroll. “...I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Astarion said with an unusual warmth to his voice. “I’m glad you were able to find her.” Without another word, he left for his own tent. As Gale turned to leave, Sagora roused long enough to drop her form. “Gale?” Her voice was ragged, the taste of copper lingering in the back of her throat. His gaze locked onto her tired, glossy eyes. “Stay. Please.” He paused a moment, and studied her face. It wasn’t filled with lust or longing. She was sad. Alone. Scared. He laid next to her, and covered them both with a blanket, A practiced wave of his hand warming the fabric. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close to his chest. She let out a trembling yet contented sigh as she settled into him, and fell asleep.

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thebawdybaldurian · 13 days

Text

Halsin/Tav Week Day 5

This is a continuation of the werebear ficlet I wrote during the eclipse. I wanted to dip my toe into monster fucking and Tav and Halsin are the ideal pair to do it, especially once Tav shares his curse. They are ride or die from one another. The bondage is fairly mild because I don’t really write the pair in the BDSM realm and more of the primal/feral one and the cuckholding is consensual with their lover Astarion. Also, I blame this movie and my unsupervised childhood for this entire thing.

First werebear scene: Total Eclipse

Cuckholding/Bondage

Content and Warnings: PIV sex in a shared tent, involuntary transformation, werebear oral and PIV sex, rough sex, jerking off to werebear sex, were-blow job.

Tav, Halsin and Astarion arrived at Shadowheart’s farm a few days before the eclipse. They weren’t certain what help her father’s journal would be at solving the mystery of Halsin and now Tav’s memory loss during eclipses, but they were also eager to see their friend. The owlbear, no longer a cub, greeted them first, hooting happily from the hole of his large burrow. “Hootles! How are you?” Tav cast her Speak with Animals spell and ruffed his large feathers.

“I am wonderful, my friends. Shadowheart calls me Darkwing now,” the creature answered, nudging his beak against Halsin next.

“That makes more sense,” Tav laughed, as he was now a fully grown adult.

“Are you keeping out of trouble?” Halsin asked, also using his speaking spell.

“I ate a cow the other day that didn’t belong to us,” he lowered his head slightly. “She was a little upset about it.”

“Understandable,” Halsin nodded. “You should be hunting for wild things and not picking an easy meal.”

“I know,” Darkwing sighed, scratching his claws into the dirt. “But…I want to get big and strong…and find a mate.”

“Ahhh, I see,” Halsin grinned at Tav. “I can teach you a few things to get better at it.”

“You’re going to teach him how to mate?” Tav teased, widening her eyes.

“To hunt, Clataedre,” Halsin sighed, shaking his head with a grin.

“What’s the point of having a spell where only you can hear the animal you are speaking to? It’s like having a one-way conversation!” Astarion moaned from inside the covered carriage they’d travelled in.

“Sorry you are feeling left out,” Tav grinned, peeking inside.

“Is that Astarion?” Darkwing asked, buffeting his wings slightly. “Tell him hello.”

“He says hello,” Tav translated, climbing back into the carriage to give Astarion a kiss. “And that he’s looking for a mate.”

“Apparently everyone is these days,” Astarion teased, pulling her close.

Their kiss was interrupted by Scratch, who had bound out of the farmhouse and jumped straight into the carriage. “Hey there!” Tav rustled his fur as his tail slapped against the side of the carriage.

“It’s good to see you all!” Scratch nudged Astarion for more pets, which he happily obliged.

“It’s just a big, hairy and feathery reunion!” Astarion smiled.

“Speak for yourself,” Shadowheart replied from outside, her hair cut short for the moment.

“Another dramatic hair change?” Astarion joked, tossing his longer curls aside. “You haven’t switched Goddesses again, have you?”

“Just wanted to try something different,” she remarked, as her tiefling lover El joined her side.

“I think it looks nice,” Halsin remarked, finding a ball for Scratch and Darkwing to chase.

“Thank you!” Shadowheart ran her fingers through it. “Shall we go inside?”

The farmhouse was small, but fairly open, the group of five able to all squeeze in at the dinner table to chat. They talked about the past year since last seeing one another at Tav and Astarion’s wedding. They had dinner together and then Shadowheart let Tav and Halsin see her father’s journal, detailing his life as a lycanthrope. “Your father was able to control his transformations, with the blessing of Selune,” Halsin noted, looking over the neat handwriting. “Have you ever heard mention of only isolated transformations? Like only during eclipses?”

“Not that I can recall,” Shadowheart shook her head. “I’m still easing back into being a wandering cleric so my knowledge is limited. Why?”

“I have been experiencing memory lapses during eclipses for as long as I can remember. Last year, during the most recent one, Tav seemed to have the same. We had gone out for a picnic and awoke naked and unable to recall what we had done.”

“I told them it sounded like a perfectly normal afternoon for them,” Astarion smirked.

“What about the torn clothes?” Tav smacked his shoulder with a deep blush. “Yes, we sometime get a little too…amorous…but Halsin’s were almost completely torn to shreds.”

“Most lycanthropes lives’ are dictated by the cycles of the moon, perhaps yours has something to do with the sun as well. Or…something to do with your Druidic powers. I can only speculate at this point. We can certainly be sure in a few days, if either of you transforms.”

“Will that be safe?” Tav wondered. “For all of you? I know neither of us could forgive ourselves if we hurt everyone.”

“It might be wise to restrain you. Just in case.”

“Sounds kinky,” Astarion purred.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Tav smacked him playfully again. “And you can watch over us and report any changes.”

They began to make plans for the eclipse that would be occurring in a few days, setting up a spot in the back of the barn where they would be bound for the duration. Tav and Halsin grew more anxious and amorous as the day drew near, sneaking off into the woods several times each day to make love. On the day of the eclipse, Astarion awoke to find them quietly rutting beside him in their shared tent. “You two are insatiable,” he rolled onto his side, watching their bodies hump against one another.

“You’re welcome to join,” Halsin huffed, Tav’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

“I’m happy to watch,” Astarion purred, brushing some of Tav’s hair out of her face.

“Maybe…uhmmm…Shadowheart is onto…hhhhnnn…something with this…sun…and…moon thing,” Tav moaned, her eyes lolling as Halsin fucked her hard. “We’ve both been…fuck…so horny…the part few days.”

“Bestial,” Halsin growled, seizing her bottom lip between his teeth.

They finished quickly, groaning together during their shared climaxes. Astarion finally nuzzled in for some post-cum kisses, watching them both closely. “So you really think you might transform this afternoon?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Tav caught her breath, snuggling between the two of them as Halsin climbed off her. “Or maybe we just came so hard last time it reset our memories,” she laughed. “I know you two have sent me to another plane before with those amazing cocks.”

“You’ve certainly made me forget myself a time or two with that mouth of yours,” Astarion smirked.

“Oh…is that an invitation?” Tav grinned.

“Perhaps later,” Astarion smiled, nipping her ear between his teeth. “I intend to make sure you two are tied up nice and tight in a few hours.”

“Is that a promise?” She purred.

“Of course, my darling.”

They lazed in the tent for a while longer before getting up, each giving Astarion a little nip of blood before they headed to breakfast. They traded off swapping the magical rings that allowed Astarion to walk in the sun, transferring his affliction to the wearer of the matching ring who would be safely inside the farmhouse. Shadowheart gave Tav and Halsin small moonstone charms to wear around their necks, hoping that the gems would at least grant them some recall if they happened to transform. They did another ring swap as they headed to the barn before the eclipse, getting settled inside.

Astarion bound them each with a set of manacles, wondering if they were leftovers from Shadowheart’s days as a Sharran interrogator or for kinkier reasons. They were both sat around a thick post that was buried deep into the ground. “Comfortable?” He teased, adjusting the heavy blankets they were sitting upon.

“This robe is itchy,” Tav wiggled her body, trying to get the loose cloth off her skin. “We could’ve just gone naked if we are going to burst out of our clothes.”

“Naked and tied up might have been too much for me,” Astarion grinned, reaching under her robe to gently rub her skin.

“Can I please blow you now?” She grinned, closing her eyes as he relieved her itch.

“The eclipse will be starting soon enough,” he pinched her nipple playfully. “I don’t want you biting it off.”

“Thank you for watching over us,” Halsin smiled, rubbing his back against the post like a bear to relieve his own itchy skin.

“Of course, darling,” Astarion gave him a good rub as well.

He settled on a bale of hay across from them, opening a book to occupy the time. The sun began to dim slightly as the eclipse began, darkening the barn slightly. “It looks like it started,” he put the book down, looking the pair over. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“Just itchy…and horny,” she teased, shifting again to scratch herself. She and Halsin began to grow increasingly more uncomfortable, moving around a lot.

“It’s getting hot in here,” Halsin panted slightly, feeling sweat beginning to bead down his neck. “Could you open the barn door slightly…get the breeze in?”

“Sure,” Astarion got up, pulling the door open a little.

“Fuck!” Tav gasped suddenly, her body writhing and twisting like she was in the throes of a climax.

“My love…are you?” Astarion lingered by the door, watching them shift and groan.

“Gods!” Halsin growled, the hair on his arms seeming growing.

“Ahhhhh!” Tav growled back, her voice deeper now and her long, golden hair beginning to cover her entire body.

Astarion watched in horror and amazement as the pair transformed, their bodies growing and becoming well furred. Their voices were no longer comprehensible, coming out as only growls and roars. Their ears had curled into soft rounds atop thick heads covered in brown and golden fur. They had short muzzles full of sharp, angry looking teeth. They looked slightly confused, pulling at their manacles, making the post groan slightly. Astarion was worried they’d pull the entire barn down on top of them and quietly stepped out of the door, peering around it to continue watching them.

They calmed slightly when they discovered one another, chuffing and licking each other’s muzzles. The chuffing turned to growls as they licked and nibbled on one another, seeming growing more aroused. The golden werebear, who Astarion could only assume was Tav, began to shift slightly, sliding her manacled wrists up the post so she could seat herself in Halsin, the brown werebear’s, lap. “Dear Gods,” Astarion whispered to himself as they writhed against one another, a thick red cock slowly emerging from Halsin’s fur. Tav strained her thick neck to reach it with her long tongue, making Halsin roar with delight.

“Is everything alright?” Astarion head Shadowheart call from the house, the sky now quite dark.

He hid behind the door, hearing the werebears growl at the noise and waved her away. When he returned his gaze to them, Tav was riding Halsin at a furious pace, her thick, furry hips moving in a familiar way. As much as they had changed during the transformation, he still saw his wife and lover inside of the beasts, and found himself growing a little aroused at their feral lovemaking. Tav was as loud as ever, growling and roaring with each powerful thrust of her hips. Astarion began to gently rub himself, intently watching his bestial lovers going at it.

For Tav and Halsin, things seemed much different. They had each been confused after their transformations, finding themselves restrained and unable to recall how they gotten into this barn. Their last memories had been falling asleep in the woods with their beloved mate. “What’s happening?” Tav cried, struggling against the manacles, sniffing the air for any clues to her location.

“My heart, is that you?” Halsin peered around the post, seeing his beloved she-bear bound next to him.

“Halsin!” Tav roared, pressing her nose against him. “How did we get here?”

“I don’t know…it must be another eclipse…I…I’m so glad you’re still with me.”

“You’ll never be alone like this again,” she licked his face, nuzzling against him.

They kissed and nuzzled after their long separation, their ardor for one another quickly growing. “My beloved,” Tav panted, shifting around the post so she could straddle him. “I need you.”

“Come to me, my heart,” Halsin pulled at his manacles, trying to get free so he could ravage her.

She sunk against him, rubbing her sex against his and letting his musk fill the air. It only stirred them on further as his cock began to emerge, which she strained to lick hungrily. “Yes…my love…that feels so good,” Halsin whimpered, his jaw slavering to taste her. Before he could request to, they heard a distant shout, growling and turning in that direction. They could only see the empty barn around them, and soon resumed their lovemaking.

Tav lifted her hips slightly to mount his slick cock, eager to have him inside her. “Gods…you feel so good,” she cried, bouncing atop him with vigor.

“I need you more than anything,” he roared, straining against his manacles, finally snapping the chain between them and freeing his arms from the post. “I must taste you,” he lifted her hips off his cock for a moment, standing her up so he could nuzzle into her slick, hairy slit.

She roared loudly, straining against her own manacles to free herself. As she broke free, she pulled his face deeper into her cunt, demanding a climax from his tongue. He was more than happy to oblige his she-bear, licking up her sticky arousal with hunger. She dug her claws into the post as she came, leaving deep scratches in it. She ignored the quiet whimpers from beyond the barn door, focused only on her mate at the moment. She backed away from him, daring him to dominate her, letting out a challenging bellow. He crawled towards her, acting as if in supplication before pulling her down to the ground.

They wrestled and fought one another in a rough, but playful manner, their teeth gnashing into fur. Halsin eventually pinned her down from behind, mounting her again as she accepted her defeat with a hungry growl. “Fuck me like never before,” she moaned, digging her claws into the hard dirt floor. He obeyed his mate’s request, fucking her with such fury that she was scrabbling to keep her hands on the ground, digging deep into the dirt with each hard thrust. Through the musk of their lovemaking, she began to smell another scent, her eyes searching the barn for the source.

Astarion was quietly jerking off now, peeking through a crack in the door at his feral lovers primal fucking. They were wild and untamed, fighting one another for dominance. It was strangely beautiful to see them so unbothered by the rest of the world and solely focus on one another. “Shit!” Astarion tensed up when he caught the eerie purple eyes of Tav as Halsin fucked her hard from behind. He wasn’t sure if she could see him from the other side of the door, but she could certainly smell him. Her nostrils flared widely as Halsin continued to pound her, panting loudly. She began slowly edging towards him, pulling herself along with her claws. Halsin had been holding her back with his hands dug tightly into her hips. As he caught the familiar scent as well, he allowed her to move towards it, pushing them closer with each thrust.

Astarion had quietly shut and locked the door from the outside, hoping to keep them at bay once they’d freed themselves of their manacles. As they crept towards the door still tied in their amorous embrace, he found himself unable to run. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or lust that had frozen him in place, but he remained there as they reached the door. Tav clawed her hands up the door, sniffing through the wood to take in his scent. There was a hole in the door that she snaked her tongue through, desperately trying to taste the bead of pre-cum that lingered on Astarion’s cock. “Tav…is that you?” Astarion asked quietly, his cock held protectively in his hand. She made a low noise in her throat to indicate that it was, continuing to lick through the hole. “Are you trying to suck my cock?” He laughed, amused that even in this form, she was demanding of his cum.

She growled lowly, scratching desperately against her door. He slicked his hand over the dew of pre-cum, pressing his palm over the hole. She greedily licked it up, tickling his hand. “That’s my girl,” he laughed as she made a mournful noise, begging for more. “If I put my cock through this hole…are you going to be a good girl? Are you going to be gentle with me?”

She bellowed again, gently pawing the door. “What about Halsin?” He asked, peering through the crack to see him still fucking her, though agonizing slow. He growled in response, licking his lips.

“Dear Gods, the things I do for love,” he took in a deep breath, shifting to slip himself inside the hole. “Easy now,” he flinched as Tav licked him immediately, her tongue larger but still strangely familiar. “Oh fuck…even like this you are still amazing,” he moaned, sinking against the door as Halsin began to huff harder again. “That’s it…fuck her nice and hard for me,” he groaned, gripping tightly to the door.

Tav licked Astarion hungrily as Halsin fucked her, eager to come inside her and join her mouth at the door. “Ahhh…no teeth!” Astarion groaned as the feral pair reached their climax, bellowing loudly and leaving themselves panting for air. “Okay, a little teeth,” he grunted as he felt Halsin’s tongue join hers.

They worked in tandem to bring him to his own end, greedily licking up his cum as the eclipse waned and their forms began to shift back to their elven ones. Astarion opened the door and collapsed into the pile of sweat-drenched bodies, nuzzling against them.

“Mmmmm…Astarion? Is that you?” Tav murmured, beginning to come back to herself, but exhausted from the transformation and vigorous lovemaking.

“Hello, my she-bear,” he laughed, wondering if they ever remembered the last hour.

“Do I even want to know?” Shadowheart asked from beyond the door, the thick scent of sex creeping out of the barn.

“Probably not,” Astarion grinned, snuggling between his lovers.

#halsin x tav #halsin #halsin smut #halsin silverbough #werebear halsin #halsintavweek

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