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cubeshapedlemon · 7 months ago

Text

Atomic Baby

You, a wastelander are captured by an unfortunate group of men, your knight in dusty leather does more for you than you originally thought he would.

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Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x f!reader

6.2k words

cw & tags: general smut, piv, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), cannon typical violence, unwanted (implied) sexual advances(not by cooper), brief alcohol use, use of pet names, heavy flirting, cannon typical drug use

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authors note: this is my first fallout fic! im hoping to write more! (check out my pinned post for more info) and my first nsfw one so i hope you enjoy. Tbh there are some moments where he is slightly ooc, just kinder than in cannon but whatever. There is a large possibility that this could become a multi-chapter at some point but it can 100% be read free standing. please reblog if you wish but do not repost or translate anywhere without my permission. anyway thank you! and let me know if you notice any mistakes or something i missed in the tags!

Waking up to three weaselly looking men looming over you with a rather sharp looking hatchet, not the best thing ever. Your little camp seeming to be ransacked already, you glare up. The one who seems to be the leader of their little group ties a rough length of rope to your wrists as the other two rifle through your bag. Hauling you up they force you to start waking.

The scorching hot sun beams down on your shoulders as you walk. The irradiated heat of the wasteland is never forgiving, especially not recently; even at night it’s been like sleeping in an oven.

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Walking, endless walking. It has already been about an hour or so since your capture. The winds picking up, trapping your lungs with dusty red soil. Phlegmy coughs and chortles follow behind you. At least they aren't at your side anymore, for the first half hour or so they would take turns shoulder checking you… or spitting at you… or tripping you… really anything those dirty bastards could think of. At this point their boredom with you is really coming to your advantage.

The greasy men are probably hoping to sell you or your organs for a few caps. Either one, not fantastic. Soil kicks up around you, forceful wind driving you to trudge forward with more effort. Glancing down at your wrists you start to feel some relief, the knot binding your wrists getting looser by the second. The dumb bastards clearly were no eagle scouts, their poor attempt at a knot slowly unfurling as you walk.

Looking forward again you have some hope. A dinghy looking town ahead of you. Walking closer and closer you see something in the town? Someone? Oh thank the lord someone. Maybe there is hope for you after all, I mean just weighing the odds, what are the chances that this random person is also chomping at the bit for some extra caps? Thinking about it now, they probably are. Well, a small chance is better than no chance.

Unraveling the last of the rope you propel yourself forward, running desperately. Your life -quite literally- depends on it. Your captors quickly realize and start chasing after you, you race forward, sights pinned on the figure in front of you.

Stopping yourself just quickly enough, you slam into the figure, making them stumble back slightly. “Now what in the-” the accented baritone voice of the person says. Grasping onto the lapels of his jacket you stare up desperately begging,

“Please help me sir, these guys captured me. I think they're going to sell me or something!”

The man looks up for a moment, staring at the men just a few seconds away before looking back down at you, “What's in it for me doll?” he says, smirking down.

“Just please!” a short chuckle erupts from his chest, placing a hand on your waist he pushes you behind him.

“I gotcha, just stay behind me.” Your captors slow to a stop, attempting to catch their breath; one of the goons is the first to attempt speech through all the heavy breathing.

“Give her back, we found ‘er first.” He says in a whiny tone, clearly not the brightest bulb.

“Now why would I want to do that?”

“Well… uh” he struggles to find the words, dumbly looking to his superior.

“Well what? Cat got yer’ tongue?”

The ring leader is the next to speak, lips parting in a sneer, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “Finders keepers ghoul. It's rare you see a pretty little thing like her these days… thought we'd sell ‘er. Caps are hard to come by. You understand.”

“Well, I can't deny she is quite the looker,” the ghoul says, looking to his side over at you, eyes grazing over your face before looking up, staring holes through the head of the man in front. “But in terms of the ‘finders keepers’ I'm going to have to dispute that fellas’. You see… i'm not really in the business of sharin’ and she seems to have found me,'' he laughs, hand going to his holster, “so i'm keepin’.”

Between the effort of running and the ghoul's comment your face is quite warm. The tension between him and the men rises every millisecond. Praying that the ghoul is a reliable shot seems to be your only hope as the group gets more irritated by the second. The leader goes to speak again, clearly not taking the hand-on-the-holster hint from the ghoul.

“I don't think so-” he says, drawing his pistol. The ghoul, already prepared, fires off a shot, beating him to his own, a bullet landing in the man’s shoulder. The leader stumbles, being taken to one knee. The goons caught by surprise go to draw their own guns, before another warning shot fires off, grazing the cheek of one.

Taking the hint, they drop their guns, hands held shakily as they lower to themselves to kneel on the ground. Clearly not wanting to take any chances. The ghoul walks over to the leader, the barrel of his gun pressed into the man's chin, forcing him to look up. The ghoul grins sarcastically.

“Well I know so. Now, why don't you pick your dusty ass up and get you, and your little…” He looks back at the two other men, “fanclub, outta’ here while I take care of that fine piece of ass you so helpfully lead into my arms.” He holsters his gun again, reaching into his pocket for a moment, “Some caps for your troubles.” he says, dropping a few caps on the ground before turning around and walking back to you.

“I- thank you.” you say dumbly, looking up at the ghoul.

“Don't thank me sweetheart,” he says, scanning your body for injuries. His eyes lock on a laceration on your arm before looking back at you. “Let's get you stitched up now,” he says with a tone you can't quite place. You lift your arm to look at the wound for a moment, must've gotten it at some point during the walk.

Looking back up, the ghoul has already walked past you, most likely expecting you to follow as he heads towards a building a few meters away. Quickly you move to follow him, eager to get away from your former captors.

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You watch awkwardly as he rummages for a needle and thread, finally finding some, he threads the needle, Sitting down on the only chair available. He looks up expectantly with a barely-there smirk.

“Well, come take your seat doll,” he says, patting his thigh. “That there won't stitch itself,” he says nodding to your arm. A heat once again rises to your face as you shuffle over, sitting down on his knee, the wound facing him as your legs are thrown across his lap. You attempt to focus on the wall ahead of you, ignoring the fact that this is the only welcome touch you've had in a while.

Soon you have something else to focus on as the most definitely not sterile needle pierces your skin. You look over your shoulder at the man, his hat tipped back lazily as he pinches the needle through his thumb and forefinger. A whip stitch quickly binding the laceration. He ties a knot before snapping the extra thread off with a nip of his teeth.

He grasps you at the waist and under your knees, standing, while setting your feet on the ground. “I believe that's all. ‘Should be able to gather enough things here to get you on your way,” he says, walking to the door.

“Wait! Could I come with you? I don't have much, but I could help you in some way... Carry supplies, cook, something,” you say, not ready to be alone quite yet. He gives an almost genuine smile, facing you again.

“Well I don't find myself in need of a pack mule. I'll be on my way ma'am.” he replies, tipping his hat before walking out, seeming to already have his next location in mind. He walks confidently, out of the town into the infinite desert ahead.

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After gathering a decent amount of supplies in the surrounding buildings you stand in the middle of town absolutely stumped. There is nothing for you in this abandoned town you find yourself in and it's not like you've had the best track record with setting up your own camp recently.

Wandering around a little more you find yourself where you met your knight in dusty leather. The other men now long gone, you stoop down and collect the things they left. Lucky for you they pretty much dropped everything they had, undoubtedly wanting to get away from the ghoul as quickly as possible.

Picking through their supplies you find that they left their guns and a decent amount of ammo, as you attach the holster to your belt you notice some strange little bottles; about four of them. Tiny cylindrical vials filled with a clear yellow-green liquid. Well, chems are chems you think to yourself, stuffing them inside a first aid kit you found inside one of the buildings.

After nosing around the supplies a bit more you decide you don't want anything else. What to do now…

Well, making your own camp is out of the question for now. You could follow the ghoul, he seems to be a decent survivalist, and the safest person you've interacted with in months. You could stay just behind him, he won't even notice. Just until he passes a more substantial settlement. Or you decide on somewhere else to go.

Deciding on that as a decent course of action, you follow the path marked by his footsteps. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky at this point, it's important to start moving before dusk falls.

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You have been following the ghoul's path for about two days now, trailing behind him. Being just close enough to where you can see when he settles down for the night, taking it as a sign to wind down as well.

As day two starts to end you see him in the distance, he starts to set up his camp for the night so you do too. Two days completely filled with travel can really take a lot out of a person, you soon welcome the sleep that takes you.

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“Well, hello there little lady.” you hear a familiar voice say, spooking you awake. Your eyes open to be greeted by the face of your savior from a few days ago. He's standing over you, eyes boring into yours. “Now what do you think you're doin’. Following me around these past few days, thinkin’ I wouldn't notice.”

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just didn't know where to go… and I figured following behind you would be a safe bet. Just until we passed another settlement! That's all I swear!” You rush to speak, trying to rationalize your thinking to him.

“Is that so? Well I hate to break it to ya’ darlin’ but the next town is about a 3 day walk away,” he informs, standing back to his full height before stepping away. You groan, rubbing your face forcefully in frustration. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Sitting up, you lazily start to collect your things.

Taking your sweet time, you scoot towards where you had placed your pack for the night. Leisurely taking a sip of water and a bite of some jerky you snagged in town. Now you really had to think about what you were going to do. You doubt he would let you continue following him, and clearly he had some 6th sense for this type of thing so secretly doing it isn't in the cards.

“Get yer’ ass up! We're burnin’ daylight out here.” the ghoul yells. Confused, you whip your head around to look at him. He walks towards you.

“What?” you say stupidly.

“We need to get a move on,” he states, squatting down to meet your eye level. “If we move at your glacial pace we'll never get there.” he remarks sarcastically. Standing once again he goes to collect the last of his things, yelling to you again, “Now! and I ain't carryin’ any of your shit so don't even think about bitchin’ about it.”

With a huff, you stand dusting yourself off before grabbing your pack and trailing behind the ghoul.

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The first day of travel was mostly uneventful, walking, walking, and even more… walking. Though you quickly learn that he doesn't talk much. And he walks quite fast. While you were certainly an effective and efficient walker, you were still left in the dust.

One of his large strides was equivalent to about one and a half of yours. Walking behind someone for miles is not exactly the most engaging activity, but it gave you plenty of time to think. And oh boy did your mind have some things to say.

As you walk your mind starts to wander. ‘my view of him from behind wasn't all that bad,’ you think to yourself. ‘He walks with a confidence that would make anyone quake in their boots, including me. Just possibly in a different way.’

By the end of the day you were spent. Sitting down by the fire, the sun finally setting, eating whatever scraps had been left over in your bag. Not exactly the most exciting dinner in the world, but in this day and age boring and uneventful is a blessing.

It's l quite awkward, sitting across from him. He has such an intense gaze. The exquisite hazel of his eyes is something so uncommon, especially for a ghoul. He seems to be doing well for himself, as close as one can be in the wasteland that is. But with that it makes the feeling ever stronger.

The way he bores his eyes into you makes you feel like he can hear everything you have been thinking all day.

Looking at you like you're something to eat.

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The second day seems to be turning into much of the same. Infinitely more walking ahead of you. Though there is something different in the air today, something new that you can't quite place.

As you look past him you hope you can see anything different, anything new. At this point you would celebrate for a tumbleweed. Though there is still much to think about.

You come to realize how little you truly know about your traveling partner. I mean, you met him not even a week ago and now you've committed to a good bit more time with him and you don't even know his name. He hasn't spoken much to you since your journey started, or really at all that you can remember.

What a shame. His voice is something that continues to echo through you. His deep baritone with that saccharine accent. While he doesn't talk much, it really is a treat when he does. When it comes to the short conversations he has with you, you can't help but get giddy at the pet names he calls you.

Now that you think about it, he doesn't know your name either. Quickening your steps you catch up to walk next to him. Looking up you see him eye you suspiciously. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure you look back down. Who are you to think that he would want to speak with you? Well, what the hell, why not?

“Hey!” you say, attempting to sound casual, failing horribly. Sparing you some embarrassment, he doesn't seem to react at all, eyes directed forward. “I was just wondering, it's probably stupid, you don't have to answer obviously. But uh, you know what? Never mind. Sorry.”

Wow, really smooth. Admitting defeat you slow your pace back to your normal one, starting to fall behind him once again; that is, until a leather-clad hand finds itself on your hip. Rushing you to once again, meet his steps.

“Just spit it out babydoll, if we're gonna’ be stuck together, I suppose you can get a question or two,” he conceded. His hand pulls back to his side, a bit leisurely crossing the small of your back. Not that you were going to complain, a welcome shiver running through you.

“Well, I was going to ask your name.” That seems to have gotten his attention, his head turning so he can fully look at you now. His eyes roving over your face as if looking for a lie.

“My name? That's what you want to know?”

“I mean… yeah? I just thought if we were traveling together I should know what to call you,” you explain, once again feeling insecure. He turns his head forward once again, an unreadable expression taking over his face.

“Is that so?” Understanding this to be rhetorical, you stay silent, deciding instead to focus on walking.

Quite soon though, you find yourself stopping. While the sun is getting lower in the sky, normally you would have another hour or so until you would start to settle down. Confused, you turn to ask; He beats you to it.

“There's some decent huntin’ and some clean water 'round here. Stay and set up house.” Wordlessly you nod, placing your bag on the ground. You walk a few meters away, collecting some sticks for a fire as you hear his heavy footfalls go in the opposite direction.

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Just as the sun starts to set, and you finally get a decent fire going you see your partner walking towards you. Some sort of meat that he already seems to have butchered in his hand.

“Darlin’ would you cook this up,” He says, not really waiting for an answer, handing you the game. “I have got to get off my feet.” He goes and settles down, resting his back against a large rock in the general vicinity of the fire. Rummaging through his bag he grabs out a small vial, identical to the ones you snagged days previously. He attaches it to what looks to be a repurposed Jet inhaler, taking a hit.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Quit your starin’,” he hollers. Taking the hint, you avert your gaze and spear the meat onto an extra stick.

The meat roasts somewhat unevenly but who can complain at this point? While doing the mindless task you can't help but look up at him. Still leaning up against the rock his head is back now, dusty cowboy hat tipped over his eyes. He really is quite handsome. Ghoul's don't exactly get the best rap when it comes to anything, especially looks. You decide that people would change their minds if they met him.

Looking down again towards your work you decide it looks done enough. Separating just over half of it you place it onto a handkerchief, walking it over to him, placing it on his lap. He goes to move his hat back, giving you a nod before you go back to your spot across from him, the heat of his gaze following you.

Sitting down you prepare for another silent dinner. Digging into your food, you hear him clear his throat, causing you to look up. “Cooper,” he says, “Cooper Howard.” You smile, a real genuine smile, giving him your name as well. A small grin finds its way to his face. So subtle you almost missed it. There was truly something in the air today.

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Waking up the following day you feel like shit. Clean water has been pretty sparse causing your head to pound like a drum. Sure there was some clean water near here but even the idea of standing up sounded unappealing. Deciding it’s best to get it over with sooner rather than later you sit up.

You start to dig through your pack trying to find your canteen with no success. Confused, you look around, still no canteen. “Cooper?” you yell, not seeing him in the immediate vicinity either.

“What is it, doll?” He yells back, coming into your field of view, strutting as always.

“Oh thank the gods. For a second I thought you left me behind,” you sigh with relief.

“Now why would I do that?” A sarcastic tone infesting his speech. Rolling your eyes, you speak again.

“Have you seen my canteen anywhere? I can't find it. Thought I'd refill it with the clean water you were talking about last night,” you add, standing up and dusting yourself off. Cooper responds by reaching into the pocket inside his jacket, pulling out your canteen and shaking it. The sound of fresh water splashing inside.

Unscrewing the cap he walks up to you, so close you two are almost chest to chest. “Drink up,” he says, lifting it, waiting, like he expected something. And who are you to deny his expectations? Lifting your gaze from the container to the depths of his eyes you open your mouth obediently. He rewards you with a slight smirk, tipping the opening towards your lips.

Despite the increasing tension between you, you are genuinely thirsty. You gulp down the water desperately between heaving breaths. Seeing that you had gotten enough, he screws the cap back on, wiping away a leftover drop on your lip with his thumb.

“Well ain't you just a prize,” he remarks, so quietly you think he didn't mean for you to hear it. With an almost imperceptible smile on his face he steps away, “ You better start gettin’ a move on little lady. If we walk fast enough we can get to town by supper.” You watch for a second as he grabs his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

Shaking the leftover tension you do the same, the idea of sleeping in a real bed tonight pushing you forward.

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Unfortunately, the heat truly has been overwhelming today. Notably, Cooper has slowed down just enough to match your pace today. Maybe you're truly starting to crack that hard outer shell he keeps himself in.

After about an hour of you fanning yourself, tying your hair up, then taking it down and putting it up in a different way you give up. Deciding that you would rather just be scorched than fiddle with your clothes or hair every fifteen seconds.

Soon after you come to this decision, Cooper silently lifts his hat off of himself, placing it on your head. The slight shade of the brim gives you some relief from the unending heat. Gratefully, you look up at him, he doesn't seem to think his action is anything of interest. His eyes still facing forward, face still pulled into a permanent scowl.

You look back down, “Thank you,” you say absentmindedly.

“Don't mention it,” he replies, his tone flat. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for the rest of your travels. Every once and a while you would sneak an admiring glance or two. A few times you could swear you felt his gaze on you, but of course you have no proof of that.

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After several hours of travel you and Cooper find yourself in a rather nice little town. Nice for a town in the wasteland, that is, not that you can complain. Looking around you see several amenities, a decent looking saloon, a trading post, and a shabby motel being the ones that catch your eye.

You suspect that Cooper is more relieved than he is letting on, taking a deep breath, he allows himself a moment to take it in. “Come on now, let's get a room,” he says, stealing his hat off of you, placing it on his head once again. Both of you eager, you head to the desk of the motel.

Not caring to speak to anyone, as you two walk in Cooper silently drops a handful of caps onto the desk, grabbing a random key (and its spare) from the wall with the other hand as he does. You give a respectful nod to the person behind the desk before swiftly following him.

After passing a few rooms, your traveling partner looks down, matching the number on the key to the one on the door. Unlocking it, you are greeted by a could-be-better room. But who has time to complain? It's a place to rest your head and keep out of the elements.

“While all this is nice and all, I need a drink,” Cooper declares, setting down his bag and grabbing some caps out of one of the pouches.

“Ok, I think I'm going to get myself cleaned up here first, I'll meet you in a few.” making a sound of acknowledgement, Cooper leaves, tossing you the extra key, the sound of the lock clicking into place as the door closes.

Sure there wasn't anything fancy like running water here but they were kind enough to have a bottle of talc and a rag in the bathroom. Gratefully, you clean yourself up as much as you can before heading to the saloon.

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Walking in, you scan the room. It's packed with all kinds of people, all jabbering on with their own group, all sipping their alcohol of dubious origin, not that you can complain, you're about to do the same thing. Looking around again, closer this time. Looking for a specific ghoul. There he is.

He sat himself at a small booth, a round table in front of him. An empty glass -presumably his own- set atop. His legs are spread lazily, the brim of his hat creating a shadow over his eyes. It truly is despicable how beautiful he is.

Snapping yourself out of what is probably a desperate looking stare, you head over to the bar. You dig out enough caps from your pockets for two of whatever cheap whiskey you could get your hands on. “Two of whatever's cheapest,” you say leaning over the bartop, dropping enough caps for both, plus tip, on the counter. Nodding, the barkeep collects two glasses, pouring with a rather heavy hand, before handing them to you and snatching the caps.

You look over to where Cooper is once more; he's looking at you now, an intense indescribable air around him. You fight to not smirk at the fact that you caught him staring, you grab the drinks and head over to his table, challenging him with your continued eye contact. “Now where have you been all my life?” you hear an unfamiliar whiny voice say. Instantly your mood is ruined, with a scowl you turn towards the voice. It belongs to a plain looking man, a much too confident smirk on his face.

“As far away from you as I could manage,” you quip, rolling your eyes and making your way to your table. Hearing him get up from his chair, following in your direction you turn to face him again. “I'm here with someone don't even try,” you warn, though of course he doesn't take the message.

“Well I don't see him ‘round here,”

“You sure you don't?” You hear that familiar accented voice say behind you while wrapping his arm around your waist. Cooper stares down the man in front of you.

“A ghoul?” the man says, looking up towards him briefly before continuing his eye contact with you. “I can fuck you better than a goddamn ghoul I'll promise you that. You make that switch I'll show you a good time,” the man claims, stalking towards you with a dangerous leer on his face.

“Oh, I guarantee you can't,” Cooper gloats, flashing the gun at his side. Without a second thought he grasps your jaw firmly, turning your head to face him and he locks his lips with yours. Taken aback, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, but he quickly deepens the kiss. He runs his tongue on the seam of your lips. You quickly obey, opening your mouth to the welcome intrusion. With how intense the kiss became you couldn't help but let out a whimper, which he rewards with a firm squeeze of your waist.

You separate after what seems like an eternity, Cooper looking at the man in front of you. “Betcha’ believe it now don't ya'?” he smirks, leading you back to the booth. He grabs both of your drinks, setting them down on the table before sitting down. Feeling some confidence after what just transpired, you sit down on his lap, one of his legs settled between yours. Teasing a bit, you shift your hips against his a few times as if settling in.

“You keep doin’ that you're gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns, grabbing and handing you your drink before shooting back his own. With a smile you lean back, resting against him.

“I'm ok with trouble,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. Making a sound of contentment, Cooper runs his hand up your thigh, squeezing as his hand trails close to where you truly need him. You let out an unintentional whine at this, attempting to cover it up with a hefty gulp of your drink.

“Are you know? Well trouble is what I got darlin’,” he claims, bouncing his leg that you are perched on. His thigh rubbing deliciously on you. “Just say the word.” Finding all the sensations to be far too much you give in to his teasing. Rocking your hips back on him again you bring your lips to his neck, kissing up slowly, ending on his jaw.

“Please.”

Releasing a satisfied groan he gives you a relatively chaste kiss compared to earlier, he adjusts you and sets your feet on the ground, pulling you and him up to stand. “Lead the way pretty girl,” he purrs, delivering a swift smack to your ass as you scramble to get to your room.

☆ ☆ ☆

As soon as the door is closed and locked behind you two, you are forced against a wall. Clearly attempting to keep some sort of control over himself Cooper takes a deep breath. “Darlin’ I'm serious, you ain't gettin’ rid of me after this. You sure you want this? just say so and I’ll leave.” The pathetically desperate look in his eyes makes you even more eager to give him your answer

“Please Coop, I need you.”

Not needing any further confirmation, he once again locks his lips with yours. Opening your mouth right away, the kiss deepens quickly, both of you desperate to get a taste of each other. Cooper rips off his leather gloves, needing to feel you on him directly. That still not being enough, he paws at your top roughly, pushing it up. Parting for a moment he pulls it over your head, unclasping and removing your bra just after.

“Well ain't you the prettiest little thing,” he breathes, running his hands up your body to cup your tits. Stooping down, he sucks a dark bruise into the side of one, looking satisfied with himself as he does so.

“Coop,” you whine, starving for more. He falls completely to his knees now, delicately taking off your boots, eye contact steady.

He next moves to unbutton your jeans. He moves frustratingly slow, clearly enjoying your huffs of annoyance. Pulling off your pants and underwear in one, he grabs your hips harshly, pushing them into the wall. Without delay, he places your thighs over his shoulders, diving into your core like it's his last meal. He runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth harshly before releasing. Desperate for more, he plunges his tongue inside you once again.

The sudden intrusion forces a deep groan out of you. In need of a perch, you wrap your hand harshly around the back of his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. “You are just about the sweetest thing I've ever tasted,” he coos, placing a messy kiss on your inner thigh.

“Cooper, please. I need you,” you beg, desiring everything he can give you.

“Well I can't say no to that, can I?” he jokes, wrapping your legs around him as he stands. Holding you by your waist he makes his way to the bed. He swiftly tosses you atop, you bounce slightly, watching as he stalks towards you with an indescribable hunger. The heat of his stare intense, you desperately clench around nothing.

Kneeling on the bed now, Cooper runs his fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them. Slowly, he works a single finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out. “Fuck- Coop,” you moan, blinded by pleasure. He works another finger in, continuing the same pace, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot every time. Working you open, preparing you for what was next.

“Good girl, so desperate for me, just a bitch in heat.” Lacking the proper brain function to respond, you whimper at his comment. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Oh you like that don't you? You like being my needy little thing. The little slut I get to use.” his pace increases, fingers rubbing immaculately inside of you. The low buzz at the bottom of your stomach beginning to bloom, your hips unconsciously bucking down to meet his thrusts.

“Please, please please,” you beg, not quite knowing what you're begging for.

“I gotcha’ doll. Let go,” he assures, moving his thumb to rub quick circles on your clit. As if commanded, you let go right away. The pressure inside of you bursting with a moan, hips bucking wildly out of your control. Clenching desperately around his fingers. “That's it… that's my girl.” Your body comes down after a few seconds more, thighs twitching with the residual energy. Cooper delicately removes his fingers from you, a small whimper of overstimulation coming from you.

Placing them in his mouth, he laps up any of you he can get. “Sweet as honey, you are,” he teases. Letting out a breathy laugh at his comment, you fist your hand on his collar, pulling him in. The kiss is passionate, tasting yourself on him only spurs you on further. Your other hand trails down his body, finding the tent in his pants you give a teasing rub. His hips stutter forward briefly, making you smile into the kiss.

Your nimble fingers undo the button on his pants, the zipper following. Breaking the kiss you look up at him, silently asking for permission. Giving you a short nod, Cooper further pushes himself into you, bordering on grinding at this point. With a grin you take him out of his pants. You give a few experimental tugs, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His hips stutter again, “You better quit your teasin’ ‘fore I make you.” As enticing as that sounds, you listen. You rub him against you a few times before lining him up with your entrance.

Slowly, he starts to push in, your heat inviting him in. “F-fuck,” he whimpers, pausing for a moment. “I'm sorry baby, you just feel so good.” Pushing in farther, he bottoms out. He grinds into you, desperate to get as deep as he can.

“Please, Coop, please move,” you whimper out.

“You are so pretty when you beg. You will be the death of me darlin’,” he says, pulling out about halfway before slamming back in. He quickly sets a brutal pace, hips slamming into you quickly and harshly. The low buzz in your stomach quickly returns, every ridge of him rubbing deliciously inside of you. It's not long before you become a puddle of whines and moans, the low buzz bursting once more, stars exploding behind your vision.

His pace does not falter, his hips still moving at the same brutal pace. In fact, he finds this the perfect opportunity to start rubbing quick circles on your clit. Anything he can do to get you to go, needy to see it again.

“Come on now, you can do it one more time for me can't you?” not believing it can happen so soon again, you shake your head, pathetic whines falling from your lips. “Yes you can, come on. I'll follow right behind. One more for me, pretty girl,” he assures, his tone starting to sound as whiny as yours. The next one comes up faster than the others, beginning already so close to the precipice.

“Fuck, Coop im going to-”

“I know sweetheart, let go, come for me.” Your body takes that command wholeheartedly, you lock your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper as you fall over your precipice, his pace truly faltering, thrusts now short and sloppy. “Fuck, darlin’ im gonna’,” he attempts to say.

“I know,” you say between whimpers of his name. Before long he joins you in bliss, filling you to the brim.

He rests his head on your shoulder briefly, pulling out after a moment and righting himself in his clothes. Rolling over onto the bed moments after. Cooper tiredly pulls you against him, not a care in the world at the moment. To be honest you didn't either. The Rad-Away would just have to wait.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #fallout fanfic #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x f!reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard smut

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meadowscarlet · 2 years ago

Text

practice makes perfect ━━━ jj maybank.

pairings: jj maybank x fem!kook!reader.

summary: you wouldn't say that you were good at kissing; in fact, you had no idea how it worked. sure, you've kissed a few guys, but not without the tongue and more; just a simple peck and it's embarrassing but what else can you do but ask jj—a pogue you shouldn't be seen with but who you grew close, since you know he's an expert at this—for help?

warnings: nsfw, dry humping, riding, brief jealous!jj, uses of pet names, praising and cursing.

author’s notes: this was clearly rushed but oh well made this in honor of obx s3 !!! do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

It was only supposed to be kissing.

Not that JJ was complaining; in fact, almost everyone knew how completely infatuated he was with you. Obviously, you were clueless of it, constantly misunderstanding JJ's flirting for simple teasing since you two are clearly friends and are simply not a match. Many people were baffled as to how you came to be friends with someone so polar opposite of you.

JJ is wild—always in the mood to party—and spends his evenings drinking beer with John B and Pope in the midst of large crowds of people listening to loud music and grinding drunk couples till they become more drunk, careless with just about anything, and have nasty hangovers the next day—someone you shouldn't like. He was the kind of boy that your parents would warn you to stay away from, the type who would just tarnish your good reputation and influence you to do things that aren't really “good.”

It wasn’t surprising, he was a pogue and you’re a kook; those shits never get along.

You were too perfect, something JJ would find too disgustingly boring and spotless like any other kook he met. They were all condescending, flaunting their richy asses, too proper, and thought highly of themselves and treated others like shit, but surprisingly, you weren't like that. You radiate a beautiful aura that makes it seem as though there is nothing about you that anyone could possibly dislike.

Maybe it, and not simply your beauty, is what drew JJ to you. But he wasn't the only one who seemed captivated with you and captivated to you irresistibly.

He would notice it, guys giving you lingering looks that would piss JJ off at first he was just being protective, of course you’re his precious friend so it would be automatic to him to feel protective but he would notice how he wasn't as seriously upset whenever Kie received this treatment or his jaw wouldn't clench; that was another special quality about you; you had this power over JJ that he wasn't aware of before.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

So when you asked JJ to teach you how to kiss, he immediately replied yes without any hesitation. At first, it was awkward because you appeared peculiarly twitchy and JJ was concerned because you had been quite quiet and had barely responded to him. When the words escaped your lips, all reason left JJ's mind, and his response came quickly and without consideration.

“Could you—like, well, teach me how to kiss?” you asked sheepishly, looking adorably embarrassed. “Properly.”

“Yeah, sure, love.”

JJ learned two things when his lips touched yours.

One: your lips was the sweetest fucking thing he had ever tasted. At first you were reluctant, even shy, but JJ taught you how to wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer, and kiss him. The way your soft lips caressed his drove him insane. He showed you how to do it by licking your bottom lip, which made your lips part and allowed him to further explore your mouth until he forced himself to stop before he could get ahead of himself.

You’re here to teach her how to kiss, not make out with her, you asshole, he thought quietly, and he found himself feeling sour about it.

Second: JJ can't help but think about the fact that you just asked him to teach you how to kiss expertly so you could kiss other guys, and for some reason, that thought makes him want to explode. The idea that you were going to kiss another guy made him feel a rush of unflinching rage. The only thing that ever made him feel jealous was the idea of another guy touching you, kissing you like he is doing right now, or worse, fucking your pretty self.

You drew away from the kiss, appearing out of breath, with swollen lips and sparkling eyes; you are so gorgeous, JJ could gaze at you for hours.

“What is it?” you asked, finding him staring at you in dazed. “Did I do it wrong?”

“No��it’s perfect,” JJ said and without thinking, he added, “You’re perfect.”

You grew flustered but asked, “So I did good? No problem?”

“There’s one problem,” JJ frowned. Unconsciously, he drew you closer to him and pulled you to sit on his lap as your chests brushed against each other and you both were breathing heavily. “I can’t stop,”

You were quiet for a moment and JJ was ready to curse himself for being too attached to your addictive self and couldn’t help himself when you suddenly shifted on his lap, your crotch brushed against his already hard dick from his shorts, and he knew you could feel it since your eyes gleamed with unexpected need, he had to restrain himself from groaning.

A shiver wracked through your body. “Then don’t stop.”

That’s all it takes for JJ to snap. He snaked his hands under your skirt, pulled you dangerously close to him, and found a way to cup the supple skin of your ass. You moaned in surprise as he attacked your lips with a hot, rough kiss, and you unconsciously started rocking your core against his clothed dick. He runs his hands through your hair, he slightly tugs on it, causing you to moan once more. As he left your lips, he skimmed his teeth against your jaw to your neck and began kissing on the soft skin of it.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve waited for this,” he whispered against your neck.

He was driven wild by the whimper that escaped your luscious lips. As you began to grind firmly against JJ's clothed dick while tightly grasping his shoulder, JJ could see you were getting frantic. His eyes grew dark as he guided you against his lap with his hands on your hips, grinding you back and forth as he continued to teach you.

JJ murmurs, “Come on pretty girl,” and then he trails his hot mouth down your neck and into your ears, biting on your earlobe to make you mewl with pleasure. “I can feel how soaking wet you are even when you’re not naked, ride me, come on, let me feel you more.”

He could feel you were doing well as his hands guided you into grinding against his crotch. He then continued kissing your neck, almost marking you and giving you the impression like it would definitely leave a mark. JJ was happy to think about this. Suddenly remembering how this happened in the first place—you asking him to teach you how to kiss—he tightened his hold on you till he felt you whimper against him, riding his clothed hard dick almost desperately, JJ could feel his anger bubbling at the thought of you doing this with someone else.

“You’re not kissing anyone else after this, do you hear me?”

You briefly looked at him, confused. “What—?”

JJ’s eyes darkened with jealousy. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

He could feel the desire through you, and he fucking loved it. You were grinding against him, and JJ had to restrain himself from tearing your clothes and his just so he could fuck you deep and hard.

You were close, he could feel it, you were clinging to him tightly, rubbing up on his dick almost like you were bouncing on him. He glanced up at you, your eyes briefly closing in ecstasy, your pretty lips half open, and your beautiful face transforming into something vibrant.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Only you, JJ—fuck—only you.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a pleased smile. “Such a good girl. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

You grew flustered but your eyes sparkled in mischief. “Teach me that?” But JJ was already pulling you much closer with a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ll teach you everything, pretty girl.”

#♡ — ani’s works.#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #outer banks x fem!reader #outer banks x y/n #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks

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alexa-fika · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! A couple more ideas for you to have! *Pls don't feel pressured to make them :(

• Rayleigh and shakky finding out child!reader is being bullied

•Marco/whitebeard pirates trying to give child!reader a check up but as normal kids will be kids

These little stories provide me with such comfort so thank you for that and remember to take care of yourself before anything♡

His One-Piece ( Whitebeard Pirates x gn!child!reader)

A/N hey hey! So I have something kind of similar to what you describe but not exactly, but the same concept but not really but at the same tome it is but not at the same time Got it? 👍🏼 Thank you so much for the kind words 🥹. I went ahead and did the second one and I Think I COOKED 🫦

Here Reader is Replaced by Dokusha which stands for Reader in Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Izou sighs, still trying to get the struggling child in his grasp to stop moving

“Dokucha, it’s just a checkup,” sighs Marco

“We won’t do much, just going to take your temperature and weight, maybe see if you have any issues,” Marco sighs as he tries to calm the squirming child down

“Dokucha, we just want to make sure that you are okay,” grunts Izou, struggling to keep up with the abrupt and constant movement of the child

“Last time, you told me it wouldn't hurt, and you stabbed me!”

“It was a shot,” the doctor says, exasperated

“You shot me?!” the child screams

“No-

“I trusted you, Marco-nii!, Izou-nii!”

“H-Hey! “ Izou protests as the child manages to wiggle his way out of his grasp and run out of the door, leaving the clinic and the two men behind

Dokucha pouted, hiding in one of the kitchen’s cabinet

They look up as the doors of the Cabinet open

“How did you find me?” they mutter

Thatch sighs while Ace simply huffs at their statement

“You always hide in the same spot when you get scared,” he answers

“I appreciate that my station is the one you like to hide in, but I would prefer if you stopped sneaking into my Kitchen.”

“Sorry”

“It’s alright,” Thatch sighs

“You know you can’t hide from him forever, right?” Questions the flame-man

“Marco simply wants to do a regular checkup on you; it’s a quick procedure,” The Chef explains, trying to ease them into it

They shake their head

“Okay, Okay, can you come here?” Thatch asks, trying to coax the child out of the Cabinet

They look at him suspiciously

“I promise I won’t take you to the clinic until you are okay with it,” he assures them

They stare at the commanders a few seconds longer before eventually crawling out of the cabinet and nuzzling into Ace when he picks them up

Ace chuckles warmly as he tries to make them comfortable in his arms

“Why don’t you get the checkup and be done for?” Thatch asks softly

They shake their head, digging their head deeper into Ace

The men glance at each other, both coming to the same solution to coax them into completing the checkup

“Hey, Dokucha, how about we make a deal?” Ace asks

Dokucha lifts their head from his shoulder, looking up at them

“How about if you get a checkup done, you get to do something special with us?” Thatch offers

“Like what?”

“Like getting to help me finish making dinner?” offers the Chef

“And maybe take a lap on the Striker,” Ace suggests

The child perks up at their offers

“Really?”

Thatch smiles. “of course, but you have to get your checkup done first,” he states

“Promise?”

Thatch smiles and looks at Ace, who nods as well

“Of course, promise.”

“Okay”

Thatch ruffles their hair

“So, how about we go to the clinic first, then?”

Dokucha turns around to glance at the two men, who smile and gesture for her to enter the clinic

They turn back around, walking through the clinic door

“There you are!” exclaims Marco, his eyebrows furrowed in worry

“Where have you been? I got worried.”

They fidget in their spot

“It won't hurt?”

Marco tilts his head, confused until he realizes that Dokucha is asking about the checkup, and he shakes his head

“It won’t”

They nod

“But no shots!”

“You don’t need any, so no, no shots.”

“Okay, but if you give me a shot, I’ll…I’ll…” they pause to think, suddenly thinking of a threat that was acceptable in their little mind

“I’ll be really Mad at you!”

Marco chuckles warmly, lifting Dokucha up and gently putting them on the table

“Sure, Sure”

As soon as Marco turns around to grab his stethoscope, they inch farther away from him, sitting at the far end of the examination table

Marco turns around, narrowing his eyes at the Child

“Dokucha?”

“yes?”

“It’s a little hard to do the checkup with you over there. Could you come over here?” he said, gesturing to the spot in front of him, where he had initially placed them

“I’m good.”

He sighs

“How about I tell you what each tool does?”

…okay” they say, scooching to their original spot

“Okay, the Stethoscope is what I use to listen to your heart and lungs,” he said, showing them said tool and placing it near their chest

They squeal as soon as he does

“It’s cold!”

Marco chuckles fondly as he moves the stethoscope around

Once finished, he offered the earpieces to the child

“Would you like to hear?”

“Yeah,” they say, smiling as he gently places the stethoscope over their ears, putting the chest piece in place

“Is that mine?”

“Your heart,” he confirms

“My heart?”

“Mhm,”

“Are you ready for the next one?”

“Can I listen a little longer?”

He smiles and nods

“How about you keep listening while I finish your checkup”

They nod absentmindedly, smiling at the steady beating

“Grandpa Grandpa!” the child screams happily, running towards the giant man

Whitebeard grins as he places the bottle he had been drinking from down and lifting them to meet him eye-to-eye

“What are you doing here, Dokucha?” he asks warmly

“Grandpa, I got my checkup done! And Marco-nii gave me a sticker!”

The captain smiles gently and pats the child on the head gently

“Gurarara, did you?”

“Yeah! And I listened to my heart and...

Newgate smiles, hearing the small child rambling about their checkup, his chest swelling with happiness as he realizes he had finally accomplished his goal; he had created a family, his family, his one Piece

Idk I lowkey thing is all over the place but I really wanted all my bois there, but try as I might I couldn’t fit Vista : ( What we thinking? Were the scene changes smooth ish?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Late Bloomer 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all.

You are as ever painfully early. It's a habit that often leaves you wandering or hovering awkwardly. You check your watch as you come up to the steps of the century-old building. You are in dread of your physics class but it turns out that all the easy electives fill up fast.

Before you can start the ascent, there's a scuff of steps from the other side. The breadth of the stairs nearly spans a third of the grand facade. You glance over as a young man with a messenger bag rushes up the first few steps only to trip and sprawl over the concrete stairs with an oomph. Without hesitation, you rush over as he groans and clatters back to the bottom.

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" You scoop up the phone that flew from his hand, seemingly the cause of his accident.

He grunts and struggles to turn himself over, clutching his chest as he can't even get a word out. You know exactly what's happened. You rub his back through his burgundy jacket and give a gentle lat.

"Ah, you're fine, honey, you just got the wind knocked out of ya."

He nods and gulps, a spiral of his reddish brown hair falling down his forehead. His dark eyes meet yours, their panicked sheen softening as his lips tremble in an attempt at a smile.

"Thanks," he rasps at last.

You pull your arm back and offer him your phone.

"That was quite the tumble," you stand straight and extend your hand. He takes it and hauls himself up.

"Yeah, this dang thing," he wiggles his cell and tucks it away in his jacket, "always getting me in trouble."

You smile nervously and your eyes drift down as he favours one leg. There's a red splotch growing on his khakis. You pop your brows up in concern.

"Er, think you got yourself good." You point and he looks down.

"God! I knew I shouldn't have worn these ones. I told May, dark colours!"

"Baking soda, maybe a bit of club soda," you assure him. "I got bandaids in my bag."

"You-- do?" He's surprised.

"Can never be too prepared," you smile. "Um, I guess..

We're in the way."

You glance around as you sense bodies heading up the steps, a few glancing your way.

"Uh, yeah, why don't we head inside," he takes a ginger step. "Uh, typical. My first day."

"It'll get better," you say.

"Hm, yeah, I guess it already has," he grins at you before he turns back up the steps.

"You need help?" You ask.

"No, no, I'm not a total disaster," he chuckles. "So," he clears his throat as you catch up to him, "what do you teach?"

"Oh," you repress a strike of embarrassment. Of course he would assume you're a professor, or a TA at the very least. It's obvious you have a few years on him and most of your classmates. "I'm a student."

"Nice," he nods, "wait, oh, gee, I didn't mean to imply-- ah, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. It's my second year. First year all the freshmen called me mom," you shake your head. "But that might be the bandaids in my bag."

"Maybe," he stops and squints, "right..." he points his finger around as he thinks, "this way."

You let him guide you. You don't need to be in class for another half hour. You follow him up to the second floor. That's where your class will be. Convenient.

When he stops at a door and digs around in his pocket, your heart drops. You look up at the room number as he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the door. You chew on your dismay.

He lets you in ahead of him. You wait patiently and he heads up to the podium. He leans on the table next to it as he unhooks his bag from over his shoulder. He sighs and peers down at his knee.

The pulls up the fabric and hisses. You approach as you sift through your bag. He bends his leg as he looks at the scrape. It's not that bad.

You take out the little pack of alcohol wipe from the little emergency pouch. How many times have you played mother hen to drunk coeds? You're prepared for it all.

"Wow, you got everything in that magic bag," he teases.

You squat down and wipe the blood away. As you peel the bandaid wrapper away, you scoff, "I'm a pack horse. Utterly terrified of forgetting anything important."

You cover the cut and run your fingers across the bandage to make sure it sticks. He winces.

"Sorry," you apologise as you stand and crumple up the wipe and wrapper.

You search around for the garbage and toss the waste. You fish again in your bag and take out your sanitizer. You squirt it onto your palm and drop it back through the open zipper. Your rub your hands together as he pulls his pantleg back down.

"Well, since you got my blood on your hands, I guess you should get a name too," he chuckles, "I'm Peter. Er, Professor Parker. Still getting used to that."

He offers his hand and you shake it, "Olive."

"Olive. Pretty. Er, interesting. Oh no," he pulls back, "I went through sensitivity training. Can I say that?"

"It's fine, professor. I'm not overly fond of the name myself," you shrug.

"Right, well," he bends his arm and tugs up his sleeve to check his apple watch. "I hope I didn't make you late."

"Well, actually, funny story," you scratch the side of your neck, "I'm enrolled in Physics 2."

He tilts his head and his lips part on disbelief, "you're joking."

"Nah, it's not exactly my favourite subject but I'll do my best," you say, "but er, if you need to get set up, I can wait in the hall."

"What? No. You're early. Make sure you get the best seat," he insists. "I will say the front row is where you wanna be but I was a student not too long ago and I won't be insulted if you sit in the back."

You laugh, "well, you know, I'm a late bloomer and these ears aren't so good." You kid, "front row's fine with me."

His grin lingers, awkwardly as his forehead lines and he tries to come up with a response. You smile, "I'll go sit down."

You give a little wave and go to find a seat. You settle in with your bag in your lap and slid out your notebook and the box of fresh pens. You tried your laptop for notes but you just find your eyes hurt from the blue light.

You tuck your bag under your seat and unfold the small desk from the arm rest. As you peel back the cover of your notebook, your ears tingle. You glance over as Peter-- Professor Parker, peeks at you. You give a tense smile and pull out a pen, putting your focus back to your notebook.

At least if you do crappy, you might be able to charm yourself into at least a passing grade.

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #peter parker x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #spider-man #captain america #avengers #au #bad professors #mcu #marvel #late bloomer

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buzzkillchainsaw · 8 months ago

Text

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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starkwlkr · 9 months ago

Note

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? James and Alex had been lounging and capturing pictures around the track and he decided to take pictures of her because well she's beautiful in his eyes. So, when someone gets hold of the camera, they decide to give them an album for their anniversary. And that picture is on it. Just something fluff and cute. I don't know if it makes sense. Thanks!! :)))

happy anniversary | james vowles

no faceclaim i just like putting pictures lol 🫶🏼 @pear-1206

requests are closed

recently alex had gotten a camera. he wasn’t going to follow lando daniel’s footsteps of making an instagram account just for his pictures, this was for fun. he was on the track with his team principal, james, trying out different setting and taking pictures of anything he liked.

“the sunset is pretty.” alex commented as he held his camera up to take a picture of the sunset. before he could take the shot, he noticed his girlfriend, lily, and you, james’ wife, walking the track. he decided to take the picture anyway. “maybe i should change my career.” he joked as he showed james the picture he just took.

“i still need my driver.” james replied. he took a look at the photo and smiled. after many years of dating and marriage, he fell more in love with you everyday. “do you mind if i borrow that for a minute?” he gestured to the camera.

“go ahead, i promised lily we would go to dinner. you can leave it in my driver’s room.” alex said as he left to go get lily so they could go to dinner.

from his spot, james watched as lily and alex left the track, leaving you behind. that’s when james got the bright idea of taking multiple pictures of you.

“you look beautiful, my love.” james called out as you were getting closer to him.

“james! no, i look horrible.” you playfully rolled your eyes. “at least get my good side.”

“every side is your good side, now show me your beautiful smile.” he instructed as he positioned the camera.

you followed his instructions. you weren’t sure how many he was taking so you stopped posing which caused him to groan.

“don’t stop, you look really pretty.” he lowered the camera and showed you the results.

“isn’t this alex’s camera? i think he’ll find it weird that his camera is filled photos of his team principal’s wife.” you looked at the other photos. “oh my god, i do look pretty!”

“that’s what i was saying!”

eventually alex did find the pictures of you when he got his camera back. he didn’t mind, after all it was just for fun. when he showed lily, she found it adorable.

“wait, i think their anniversary is in a few days. we can make an album for them with these pictures! we have to do it!” of course alex said yes, who could say no to lily?

so after a quick trip to the store to buy an album and print the pictures, lily and alex spent the night making your anniversary present.

a few days later, you were in james’ office sitting in the chair across from him at his desk. you were enjoying lunch together when a knock interrupted you. james wasn’t expecting anyone and his team knew it was his lunch break so he was confused.

“come in!” he called out.

seconds later, the door opened revealing lily, alex and several williams team members. even you were confused, probably more than james.

“sorry to disturb you, but we have a gift.” alex announced as he revealed a wrapped gift complete with a bow. “happy anniversary, we hope you like it.” he gave the present to you since you were closest to him.

“alex, don’t i will cry.” you said as you looked at james. “do you want to open it or should i?”

“go ahead, my love.” he nodded.

so you teared open the wrapping paper to reveal an album that had your and james’ names printed on it. you quickly showed james then opened it to reveal the pictures that your husband has taken of you.

“oh my god, this is beautiful.” you commented. “i mean, yeah it’s me, but still.” you said making everyone laugh.

“we also put in some pictures from your instragam, mrs. vowles, you know the ones from your wedding day, the day he proposed. it’s all in there.” alex added.

“i think i am crying, thanks alex i’m crying in front of my pasta!” you joked then stood up to hug the couple for the present. that’s when you noticed the williams team had been recording your reaction.

“this is definitely going every williams social media account.” james laughed.

it was definitely no secret that social media loved the vowles’ and now, they loved you even more.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #james vowles #james vowles x reader #james vowles imagine #james vowles fanfic #james vowles one shot

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bloodwrittenletters · 3 months ago

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LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!

pairing . . . jason grace x fem!reader

the cassette playing . . . so american! olivia rodrigo

the letter reads . . . some headcanons about you and your cute boyfriend: jason grace!

warnings . . . none!

a/n . . . i literally can't write anything to save my life these few days, so jason grace headcanons! this beautiful blonde boy deserves more love.

✴ he's the type of guy who would ask "can i be your boyfriend?"

✴ even before you started dating, he would go OUT OF HIS WAY (and everyone else's) to give you what you wanted.

✴ learns an specific type of hair routine to help you.

⤷ would ask piper, hazel, or annabeth for hair care products or how to take care of your hair type.

✴ the moment you guys start dating, all of his closet is yours.

⤷ you eventually start to feel bad and tell him he can also wear your clothes if he wants, a week later you find him wearing your pink top.

⤷ "i got stuck, but i look way too hot in this... can you help me take this off?"

✴ everything he makes in arts and crafts, he shows it to you.

⤷ half of the time, it's jewelry for you. the other half is for percy and leo.

✴ if you ever get in a discussion with one of his bros, he looks like a sad puppy for having to pick a side. but he always picks yours.

✴ whenever he goes to new rome alone, he comes back with millions of gift for you.

⤷ that either made him think of you, or thought it would be something you like.

✴ has shared a playlist with you.

⤷ before he asked you out, he made three playlists. "songs that would be ours if we were dating. / songs that remind me of her. / songs about one-sided pinning."

✴ he was surprised when he found out you also had a crush on him.

✴ supports everything you do. (sports, hobbies, etc etc)

✴ this man will 100% have a shoe box of things you gifted him, going from a chocolate wrap to comfort him when he first came to chb to glasses with little lighting bolts.

✴ if someone hits on him / ask him out (didn't know / didn't care he has a girlfriend) jason has two options:

⤷ "no, thanks. although my girlfriend would love to be your friend, have you met her yet?"

⤷ "no. i'm deeply in love with my girlfriend, have you seen how pretty she is? i bought her this bookmark yesterday."

✴ never really liked valentines day or any other holiday since it wasn't celebrated in camp jupiter, but goes all out with you in each one.

⤷ dress up with you for halloween if it's something you want to do, fills every room with hearts and flowers and takes you out in special dates for valentines day, plans your chritsmas gifts months ahead.

✴ if you have herritage ( or are ) from a different culture, he would learn everything and more.

⤷ makes sure that he respects it and honors it. learning your home language, learning your favorite foods, learning your history etc etc.

✴ he burns an extra piece of food for your godly parent.

✴ helps you with homework / does it with you.

✴ loves doing double dating.

⤷ your favorite one has been hazel and frank. his favorite one has been percy and annabeth.

⤷ if the second one happens, you and annie feel like the third wheel of their bromance.

✴ he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, and... his mom is dead, so he introduces you to thalia, apollo, and maybe hera. also with all of your other friends.

⤷ "guys, this is yn."

⤷ "are you forgetting that i've known half of them longer than you have? did your amnesia came back?

⤷ "the voices in your head are getting louder, my love."

✴ that man LOVES pet names. specifically the original ones he comes up with for you.

✴ he loves to gossip with you.

✴ he is SO FUNNY. we have to stop pretending he's not.

✴ for your anniversary he would probably make you a memory book of your whole relationship.

✴ "i love you, good night, dear."

⤷ "are you staying with me? isn't that against the rules?"

⤷ "screw the rules. good night, my love."

✴ you're one of the few ones allowed to use his sword.

✴ loves matching outfits with you.

✴ he said, 'i love you' first. it was an accident when the two of you were in the middle of fighting monsters, and it just slipped.

✴ has your initials in a chain around his neck.

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace headcanon #a vampire kiss #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #bella's written love #a bloody love letter

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sister-lucifer · 28 days ago

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Love After Life

Claude Theroux (Ghost OC) x Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: When the ghostly groom mistakes you for his lost bride on a dark Halloween night, you can’t stop yourself from giving into him.

Content/Warnings: AMAB Reader, unprotected anal sex, cumming inside, Reader crossdressing as a bride for Halloween, a little dubcon but not really only at first, mentions of death + fire, pet names (my love, my darling, various French pet names, etc), Claude refers to Reader with feminine terms because he has weird ghost brain stuff going on and doesn’t realize he’s not his wife, pregnancy/breeding, does this count as force fem?

A/N: Happy (slightly late) Halloween, everyone! ʚ♡ɞ

THIS IS NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS!

Believing in ghost stories is a feat that has always hovered just outside your field of reality, what you know to be true. Sure, you can suspend your disbelief to humor a friend now and again, but nothing beyond that. Of course, curiosity has a nasty habit of overpowering basic logic; when your phone pinged with a video from a friend about the supposedly haunted manor on White Oak Hill, you couldn’t resist giving it a watch.

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy music that immediately started up upon hitting play, snuggling into bed with your free hand in a bag of snacks. You didn’t expect much at all, really. From the look of the video, it seemed like just another ploy for views from a subpar channel profiting off of kids who are still scared of monsters under the bed. You were far too intelligent for that.

“The haunted house on White Oak Hill has been circulating once again, now that Halloween is coming around,” the narrator spoke, putting on an obviously forced voice while stock b-roll of a graveyard panned across the screen, “but what really happened to make it so haunted? Stay tuned to find out, but first, we want to tell you about our new merch drop—“

You groaned aloud, immediately skipping ahead. You could not be less interested in whatever they were peddling.

“…and it was then, in July of 1945, that tragedy struck.”

Ah. That’s more like it.

“Newlywed French aristocrats, Suzanne and Claude Theroux, had just arrived at White Oak Manor, where they intended to spend their honeymoon…”

Ugh, how cliché. You skipped forward a few more seconds, running out of patience fast.

“…The couple moved downstairs, still dressed in their reception clothes, and completely oblivious to the fire blooming up in the master bedroom. Somehow, a recently lit candelabra had knocked over, causing the charred wick to burn one of the curtains, and the flames were growing rapidly. In their panic, Suzanne managed to escape, but Claude was not so lucky…”

The music faded out, as did the visuals. As much as you’d hate to admit it, they had reeled you in. You didn’t even realize how close you’d gotten to the screen throughout that monologue, at least not until—

“…but first, a word from our sponsors.”

Oh, fuck this!

The shrill text tone jolts you out of an embarrassingly deep sleep. You wipe the drool from your chin as you scramble to sit up, phone sliding off of your chest. Looks like you fell asleep watching that video. So much for scary—you slept like a baby.

You pick up your phone and look at the notification. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you type out your reply.

Unfortunately, you actually had to consider that.

You’re not exactly strapped for cash or struggling to scrape by, but it sure as hell would make you a lot more secure and comfortable to know you at least have that extra hundred put away in case of an emergency.

…Ugh.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, stumbling through the doorway of the old house, “this is stupid. This is so stupid…”

Somehow, you’ve gotten this far without putting all of this to a stop. Maybe it was the hundred dollars floating just out of reach like a carrot on a stick, maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe it was just plain idiocy, but you really let this happen. Wow.

Each step makes the wooden floors creak underfoot, the boards hissing in protest to your weight. You struggle to keep your balance in the tacky heels you were forced into, which are as uncomfortable as they are humiliating. To add insult to…well, another insult, you aren’t even wearing regular clothes under the dress as promised; they made it nearly impossible to get the damn thing on, and it was just too uncomfortable. You were allowed to keep your briefs, at least. Not that that makes you feel any better. Your dignity is strained, to put it lightly.

You scratch at your arm rather aggressively, the itchy fabric of the tulle sleeves irritating the skin there. The entire dress is painfully cheap, and promises an unforgiving rash tomorrow morning. You instinctively reach to where your pocket would normally be to grab your phone, only to be utterly disappointed as the words of your friend echo in your head:

“No modern technology! If he sees you tapping at your weird light box, he’ll freak out! All you have to do is go in, sweep the house, and report back to me.”

Of course, your immediate response was to question why the ghost hunter wasn’t going in; surely the ‘expert’ isn’t scared?

The only answer you got was a rather unceremonious shove towards the house.

You’re in this alone. Great.

You just hope the house doesn’t decide to collapse in on itself tonight. You don’t believe in ghosts, but the decrepit 20th century architecture and the harsh wind whistling through the broken windows are very real. It seems like the entire manor is trying to chase you out, like it’s angry that you’re here, loudly creaking and moaning with every shift or shake to talk you out of taking another step. No wonder this place has sparked so many ghost stories, it’s scary as shit!

You stop in the middle of the foyer, taking a moment to drink in the scenery.

The effects of the fire are obvious, even after all the years of atrophy; the core of the charred blackness lies upstairs, but its countless arms sprawl outwards, clawing at the walls in a desperate attempt to get free. From what you can see, it did not succeed, as the front most part of the house seems to be relatively untouched.

Most of the house was gutted in an estate sale—what could be salvaged, anyways— but a couple of throne chairs and a matching ottoman still remain, now thoroughly gnawed through by all manner of creepy-crawlies. The entire downstairs is covered in a sticky blanket of spiderwebs, as if you needed more evidence of an infestation. Most of the curtains have been left untouched, except by time, though they do little to keep the house warm without any in tact windows. All of glass has been nearly completely shattered by either nature or vandals. You noticed a few graffiti tags and discarded beer cans outside, but the inside looks like it hasn’t had many people in it since the fire. The legends must keep them out.

You look around as you try to discern where to go next. Directly in front of you is a large staircase leading to the upper level of the house, and behind it are a few doors that probably lead to a kitchen, a guest room and the like. On either side are long hallways that curl around, preventing you from seeing where they lead. The living area on your left, with the only remaining pieces of furniture, is enclosed on either side by grand bookcases that once held countless manuscripts and novels. The floor is still discolored from where the rug once laid. The grand chandelier of Damocles above your head sways a bit in the wind, and that makes you swallow nervously; you make the smart decision to move a few steps to the side just in case the diamond daggers come down.

The question is: where do you start?

You could quite easily get turned around in here, especially in the endless hallways of the ground floor. You were given a brief glance at the floor plans, and there was no basement, only the two levels above and below the stairs. The best place to start would be upstairs, you decide— that way you can work your way back to the front door.

Upon closer inspection, though, you realize that physically going up the stairs might be easier said than done, especially in these tacky pumps. Your eyes follow the steps from the bottom up, and each stair is only more burnt and broken than the last. You’ll have to navigate this with utmost caution.

Your first step is shaky, but the wood doesn’t feel too unsteady. You’re careful not to stumble or let the heels of your shoes slip off the back of the stairs as you ascend, holding tightly to the rail. You only lift your hand at about halfway up, when you feel the gradually blackening wood starting to flake off and stick to your palm. The higher you climb, the darker it gets, all of the color of the upstairs completely consumed and overtaken by the fire. It’s like walking into Hell, the last vestiges of light fleeing from the sight as you finally reach the last step.

You linger there for a moment, mouth hanging open just slightly as the reality of the tragedy sets in. Sure, you’d seen pictures, unable to push down the curiosity in the time before your little adventure, but this was…haunting.

Someone actually died here. Holy shit. You’re staring into someone’s grave.

You shudder as another breeze passes through, feeling much colder than before. You can only stare into the pitch black hallway for a moment before an irritated creak from the stairs urges you to quickly move off of them.

Black dust swarms around your ankles as you step onto the upper floor. It seems even more untouched than the lower part of the house. The wind doesn’t come through as loudly here, and suddenly you realize how deathly quiet it got as you came up the stairs. You listen for a moment to see if you can pick up any sound from the outside, but there’s nothing. Not a sound, not a rustle, not a honk from the highway. You don’t even think the rats come up here. Spooky.

You look to your left, down the hallway. Darkness. Complete darkness. The frail gleam of the moon is practically swallowed by the suffocating black.

You look to your right, and see the same thing. You catch a brief glimpse of the dim light reflecting on something.

You look back to the—

Wait.

You double take. The fuck was that?

You turn back to the right, now much more on guard. You squint into the shadows, sure that you saw something against the wall that barely hovered where you could see it.

Nothing moves.

Nothing is there.

You sigh, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. You’re letting those dumb stories get to you. You just need to get out of here before you catch a disease or fall through the floor and break an ankle.

You decide to keep true, headed straight for the center hall and the master bedroom where it all began. You walk slowly, keeping an arm in front of you to feel for spiderwebs in the windowless hallway, but you encounter none. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen any signs of pests since the stairs. Nothing worth eating up here, you guess.

You can barely see the slight glint of the bedroom doorknob. It shifts and wavers just a bit as you bob with each step, eventually coming close enough to reach out and grab it. You prepare for the spikes of cold metal against your skin, but the sensation you feel is much different.

The doorknob is warm.

Not unbearably hot, no, but warm. Warmer than it has any right to be, enough to make you pull your hand back for a moment.

You swallow hard.

It must be because the wind doesn’t come through here, you rationalize; this hall has no windows, there’s rooms on both sides—it’s not as drafty as the rest of the house. That must be it.

You grasp the knob again, turning it slowly…so as to not break it, of course.

The door creaks open loud enough to make you wince, like you’re worried someone will hear and come bustling in to scold you for being up past your bedtime. The room looks rather well preserved, and it doesn’t start to sink in how odd that is until you’ve already stepped inside, and then the door shuts behind you on its own. That startles you enough to crash your train of thought.

You quickly spin around to look at the door, staring for a few moments to see if it’ll move. It stays still, the ornate wooden carvings looking back at you like sharp eyes, waiting to see if you, too, will make a move.

The room is, for lack of a better term, dead. Any sound that tries to make its way in dies outside the walls, and even the particles floating in the air seem frozen, cursed to forever hover in the beams of moonlight. A ghostly glow is cast over everything, an ethereal blanket that makes the air feel heavy. You take a step further into the room, and it feels like walking on the ocean floor. You’re numb, yet you can feel your skin clinging to your bones.

You really shouldn’t be here.

Then, a flickering light in the corner of your eye catches your attention. It startles you, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, enough to make you jump as you turn to it. The glimmering brilliance blinds you for a moment, and you don’t realize what you’re looking at until your eyes focus again.

On the bedside table, its illuminating aura casting quivering shadows on the walls, is a sterling silver candelabra holding tightly to three lit candlesticks. The engraved vines snake their way up its arms and around its base, almost as if trying to hold it still. It looks like a priceless antique, but it shines like it’s brand new. A moment ago the room was completely dark, and now it’s aglow with the white-blue candlelight. The flames swirl in your pupils, hypnotizing you with their unnatural hue as they dance like skilled ballerinas, flicking up into a perfect arabesque before relaxing into a soft adagio, beckoning you closer without you even realizing.

You don’t see how close you’ve gotten until you’re nearly upon it. Your fingers twitch, nearly aching to reach out and hover over the fire. Without a conscious decision, your hand starts to lift, like moving through water. It floats just above the candles, and you feel no heat, nor do you see any smoke. It’s like a projection onto the air itself.

You barely stop yourself from dipping a finger into the flames. You know logically that you’ll be burned—or at least, you should be—but the fire calls to you nonetheless. For just a moment, everything is different; you aren’t yourself. There’s a dark cloud forming in your mind, and then suddenly it dissipates at the startling sound of a voice behind you.

You whip your head around so fast your neck nearly snaps. You squint into the darkness, still as a statue, expecting to see your friend standing there or perhaps even a fellow explorer whose curiosity got the better of them. You’re not even sure what the voice said, but it was certainly human…or, at least, something that’s quite good at sounding human.

You see no one.

You’re just as alone as you were.

You turn to face the room fully, but you move too fast. Your hand bumps the bedside table, knocking the candelabra off of it. You panic as you scramble to catch the candleholder, not even thinking about the possibility of burning your hands. You manage to reach out at the last second and get your palm beneath it, and you expect to feel the weight of the cool silver against your skin, but you never do.

You watch with your own eyes as the candelabra phases right through your flesh.

You think for a split second that perhaps you just missed, but there’s no clatter against the wood floor either. The candelabra disappears with as much ceremony as it first materialized, leaving only a few sapphire embers that jump from the wicks before fading away as well. The moon’s beams on your back is the only surviving light.

You can feel the freezing of your blood as it crystallizes into solid ice, the unbearable sensation blooming in your stomach before snaking its way down your limbs. You want to scream, but you can only muster a gasp as you stumble backwards in shock. You trip over your own feet, falling back onto the bed.

Your vision starts to fill with black spots as your mind struggles to wrap around what it just witnessed. You keep seeing that split second in time when you watched it go through you, that single moment where it was halfway through your solid form before it was gone. Unsure what else to do, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying desperately to calm yourself.

You lay there for a few moments, unable to make yourself get up or move at all. All at once your mind is racing, yet you’re unable to think at all. You try to force yourself to calm down, to will your heart to quiet, but you can’t push the thought of the candelabra out of your mind.

You’re not sure why, but you cover your face. Your entire body tenses for a brief moment before you finally break your barrier of panic. Slowly, but surely, you relax again. Your chest is still heaving, but you can finally form a semi-coherent thought.

…What the hell just happened?

You don’t have an answer for that. At least, not right now.

That’s okay, you sure yourself. You’re fine. You need to just get out of here. You can lie and say you saw a shadowy figure or something.

You pull your hands away from your face, blinking a few times as your eyes focus and adjust to the bright light.

Hold on.

The what?

No, you’re really seeing that…?!

Just above you is a hovering form, glowing in the darkness of the bedroom. For a second it only looks like a luminous cloud, but then the finer features become clear, coming into form like a time lapse of a painting.

You notice the eyes first. They’re a brilliant blue, even more so than the rest of the body, like heavy gems being cradled by translucent clouds. You notice the hair next, long, silky and wavy, looking like it may have once been blond despite the blue tint, and floating as though in zero gravity. The nose is slender and straight, and the lips are devoid of warmth and slightly parted as if pleasantly surprised. The rest of the body is wrapped in a dark suit, accented with a light blue tie and a matching lily boutonnière with drooping petals.

You put it together in an instant; the attire, the house, the fire…

…The groom.

Your throat goes dry as sandpaper.

He’s smiling down at you a terrifying amount of genuine affection. He tilts his head just slightly, observing you as your mouth gapes and eyes widen in shock. You struggle for words, but only manage to choke out one thing:

“Claude...?!”

His grin only widens when he hears his name from your lips.

“Ohh, my love,” he sighs, his thickly accented voice echoing in the back of your head as if speaking directly into your mind, “I was wondering where you went…”

He reaches out to stroke your cheek, and it feels like cold fog on your skin. He’s trembling as much as you are.

“You’ve returned, you’ve returned…” he mumbles like a chant. He leans in with both hands on the sides of your face, gently bumping his forehead against yours. The contact makes your entire body shiver, and you have to stop your teeth from chattering. You know you should say something, stop him, move away…but what can be done?

You’re frozen.

His hands on your face are starting to make your skin tingle, like pins and needles in your cheek. The sensation lingers when he finally pulls away, and you can’t stop yourself from rubbing the feeling away on your shoulder.

There’s a beat of silence between you for a moment. He looks down at you, gentle smile never wavering despite the terror that’s surely on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize at all that you’re not happy to see him. Something in his eyes makes you feel like he’s looking through you, or perhaps not truly seeing you at all.

You bristle when he moves lower, hollow hands grasping at your ankles before sliding upward, lifting the cheap layered skirt of the bride costume. The cold feeling creeping up your leg makes you yelp, and you instinctively kick at him. Your tacky heel slips off and falls to the floor with your foot still floating inside his abdomen. Oh god, it feels like stepping in refrigerated jello.

Claude pauses. For a moment you’re worried you’ve angered him, that now you’ve invoked

the wrath of a restless spirit, but then he laughs. He laughs as though you’d simply told him something funny, and then his hands continue working their way up your legs.

“Always so spirited,” Claude chuckles, hands now firmly on your thighs, “I always did love that about you, ma femme…”

He leans over you, and you want to sink into the mattress as far as possible. Your legs tremble uselessly as they dangle over the edge of the bed, unable to make you run.

“W-Wait, hold on—“ you stammer, but you choke on your words when he dips down to kiss your neck. Each little press of his lips is like a shock to your system. Normally, you wouldn’t be so sensitive, but the feeling is so foreign and overwhelming you can’t help but arch your back. His hands slide up and down your waist, skirt now bunched around your hips, and you can barely feel the cold through the costume.

He either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t acknowledge your words. He keeps working his way down your neck, hands moving around to your back and fumbling with the zipper down the bodice of your dress. You don’t realize what’s happening before suddenly the costume is being pulled off your shoulders.

“Wait, wait—!” you say again, with a bit more volume this time. This makes him stop, pulling away and looking at you with confusion, and maybe even a bit of hurt.

“Darling, what’s the matter?” he asks, stroking your hair, “Are you nervous? Don’t be…”

“N-No, you don’t understand…!” you insist, but the longer you look in his eyes, the less you want to fight him.

“Can’t you tell? I-I’m not…you know…”

You trail off, gesturing vaguely to yourself. Surely he can tell you’re not his Suzanne…?

His eyebrows furrow. He’s clearly not understanding what you’re getting at, but then his eyes light up with a realization.

“…Oh…I see…” he mumbles, looking away from you in thought. You finally relax, breathing a sigh of relief. Looks like you managed to get through to—

“Oh, darling, I don’t care if you’re not a virgin!”

…What?

You open your mouth to correct him, but no sound comes out. He kisses you, you think, but it’s so fast you only feel the slight coolness on your lips.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he continues, “you’re still my beautiful wife. No more delay, let me show you how much I love you.”

Before you can blink the costume has been pulled off of you. You’re left in only your boxers and one shoe, head spinning as you struggle to make any sense of the situation.

How does he not see? You think, you don’t look anything like Suzanne, gender disparity aside…!

No, wait…what was it they said in that old ghost movie?

“Ghosts see what they want to see.”

The sudden understanding barely breaks through as Claude dives into your neck again, the other side this time, mumbling and sighing against your skin in slurred French.

There’s no reasoning with him, you realize, he wants you to be his wife. He needs you to be her. He’s been waiting here so long for her to return, he doesn’t even know he’s dead.

Oh, god…

His hands run up and down your bare chest, and the freezing touch makes your nipples harden. They trail lower, like cold water running down your body, pausing at the waistband of your boxers. He floats downward to nuzzle into your thigh, and the sight of him looking up at you with those big, blue eyes makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, mon amour, won’t you let me…?” he asks, tugging at your boxers, “I simply can’t rest until I’ve had you…”

Can’t rest, he says…

Is that what he’s been waiting for all these years?

They say ghosts only stick around if they have unfinished business, right? Is this…is this what he needs?

You suck in a deep breath, unable to look away from his eyes.

Well…if it might work, it’s worth a shot, right? You’re doing this for him, after all.

At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself tomorrow morning.

Fuck it.

“Yes.”

The way his expression quite literally lights up makes your face go hot.

He wastes no time, pulling off your boxers with utmost enthusiasm. The fall to the floor, immediately forgotten once he’s dropped them. You resist the urge to suck in a harsh breath as your half hard cock is exposed to the air. You’re already bracing yourself for the inevitable feeling of his cold touch.

For the first time, you really see him pause. He’s staring down at your length, gears turning in his head but not working quite right, like he’s on the verge of snapping out of a trance. You gulp. If he’s found you out, you might be screwed.

The silence stretches on for an almost awkward amount of time.

Then, without warning, the love returns to his eyes, and a split second later his tongue comes out to lick a long stripe up your shaft. You nearly scream, barely managing to cover your mouth in time. Fuck, that’s cold!

It’s clear that he’s not all that knowledgeable about what to do with a dick, but he’s giving it a hell of a try. He makes sure his tongue doesn’t neglect a single spot on your length, and he doesn’t miss the little squeal he gets when he flicks gently at the tip. He tries to take it in his mouth, but forcing your cock down his throat is clearly uncomfortable for him, even if he can’t choke on it. Nonetheless, he tries, rubbing at whatever he can’t fit in his mouth with his hand. He’s not afraid of moaning, either, and the vibrations it sends through you can never be replicated by any toy.

You do your best to lay back and enjoy it despite the bizarre situation. You manage to clear your mind for only a moment before you feel two of his fingers brushing against your hole. You gasp, tensing on instinct. You can feel him smirk around your cock before he pulls off of it for a moment.

“Ahh, there it is…” he says lowly before promptly busying his mouth once more.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip as two of his fingers slip in, the cold instantly penetrating your core. This seems to be a skill he’s much more adept at; he’s far less hesitant, and far more graceful. He stretches you in just the right ways, exploring your waiting hole with a confidence that easily surpasses any of your past partners. His fingers slip in and move around so easily, without any struggle or pain. You’re almost upset you’ll never feel this again.

Try as you might to be quiet, you can’t bite back the moan that crawls out of your throat when the pads of his fingers press against your prostate. He chuckles as best he can with your dick down his throat. He presses again, gentler this time, clearly enjoying the drawn out while it gets from you.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep quiet as he hits all the right spots over and over again. He’s evidently a quick learner, too, as he’s already picked up on the best ways to use his tongue around your length. You can feel yourself twitching in his mouth.

He slips in a third finger, and as it pushes in you nearly see stars. Tingly static crawls up your body like dye soaking into fabric, invading the deepest crevices of your nervous system. God, that’s good.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when he finally pulls away, leaving you suddenly empty and far too warm for comfort. You’re too dizzy to question what’s going on when he flips you onto your stomach, but you don’t have to ask questions. You shudder as he leans over you, his chest against your back, engulfing your body with an icy sensation.

“Oh, ma belle femme, how lucky I am to have you,” he whispers in your ear, voice choked and shaky, “I can feel you trembling underneath me. Just sit still, my darling…”

You can hear him rustling with his clothes behind you, but don’t bother to look back. Your cock is practically begging for more of his touch.

After a moment he leans over you again, this time laying his hands over yours. He feels nearly weightless, like a cloud resting on top of you.

“Je peux enfin t’emmener…”

You don’t have a second to process his words before suddenly he’s pushing into you. You don’t bother trying to hide your voice, and neither does he, droning on and whispering sweet nothings you can barely understand as your mind is completely melted by the feeling of the penetration.

You nearly collapse against the mattress, but he manages to catch your hips just in time. You claw at the sheets as he fills you to the base, and the blankets do little to muffle your cries. For a brief moment you wonder if anyone outside could hear you, but that worry is quickly pushed aside when you feel him pulling back. You dig your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure it’ll leave marks as you prepare for what’s about to come.

The first thrust feels like it might break your mind. The head of his pale cock butts hard against your prostate, making you shriek like you never thought you could. You nearly tear a hole in the bedsheets with your desperate attempt

to find some sort of relief, and yet you don’t want any at all. Your body might be shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, but against all logic, your mind is screaming more, more, more!

“C-Claude—!” you yelp as he slams into you once more.

“Suzanne!” he echoes in turn, ecstasy dripping from his voice, “Suzanne, my love, how I’ve waited for this…!”

He returns to kissing your neck, though much messier than before. He just needs to taste you, sucking and nipping and licking any spare bit of skin he can get to. If he feels so cold, you must feel so warm.

He’s trying to be gentle, to go easy on you, but he’s struggling. You can feel him forcing himself to go slower. You need to encourage him.

“Oh, Claude,” you moan, putting on the girliest voice you can muster, “faster! Faster, my love, please, give me more!”

He’s more than happy to comply, and after a brief adjustment of his hold on you his pace increases tenfold. He’s grunting and huffing like an animal—and you’re underneath him, moaning and whimpering like a girl.

“Suzanne, my darling, we’re going to do it,” he says suddenly, and you have no idea what he means. He pulls you in closer, pressing you against his chest more firmly.

“We’re going to do it,” he repeats, “we’re going to have our family…I want to— no, I need to give you my child.”

The sound that comes out of you is humiliating.

You’ve never wanted anything more than for him to cum inside of you in this moment.

“Yes,” you reply without thinking, “yes, yes!”

He only thrusts into you faster, fueled completely by your mutual desire. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding tightly and pulling you back against him as he pushes in. The bed is rocking so hard it feels like it might collapse underneath you. Even if it did, neither of you would even consider stopping, not for a second.

He’s starting to lose his rhythm, you realize. He’s just as sensitive as you are. He wants this just as much, if not more. You can’t even string together a coherent sentence to beg for it, all you can do is let the string of pleasured noises fall from your lips, only occasionally managing to say his name. He chants back ‘Suzanne’ like it’s the only word he knows; it’s the only one that matters to him, at least.

You jump when he wraps a hand around your cock, pumping it quickly with little to no consistent pattern. He’s practically milking it, rubbing fast and hard and doing everything in his power to push you to your peak.

“Cum for me, my love,” he huffs, “let me feel you cum around my cock…won’t you give me the privilege?”

“Of course, my darling,” you reply. How could you say no?

Your orgasm starts to build faster than you’re ready for. You can barely choke out an understandable warning before your cock twitches and spills its load, spurting into his hand and certainly dirtying the bedding underneath you. He buries his face in your neck as your hole squeezes him deliciously, making him cry out at the feeling.

“Yes, my love— Oh god, yes!” he almost sobs. He’s completely lost his rhythm now, just rutting into you like a feral dog in heat as he chases his own high.

He gives one last cry of his bride’s name before suddenly he stills, and his cock spills into you. You’re not sure what it feels like—you don’t think any human experience could ever compare—but it’s certainly not unpleasant. It’s not the warm, sticky feeling dripping down your thighs, at least.

You nearly black out for a moment, your head spinning like a top with no relief in sight. Darkness is quickly clouding your vision as you come down from your intense high, and you barely register the gentle kiss Claude presses to your cheek before the cold feeling against your back is gone. You close your eyes then, unable to keep them open any longer.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you awake again. Logically, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but you feel like you’ve been asleep for years. You slowly move to sit up, and instantly you’re made painfully aware of the soreness in your legs and lower back. You groan, forcing yourself to move to sit on the edge of the bed.

You’re still very naked, that’s for sure. You look down between your legs, and grimace at the sight of the luminescent ectoplasm glowing in the dim light as it drips from your thighs and ass.

The thing that really stands out, though, is the state of the room. Whatever you saw before must’ve been some sort of ghostly illusion; now you’re surrounded by nothing but charred black, sticking to your legs and palms and floating about in the air in flaky little bits.

Yuck.

You sigh as you will yourself to get up, not enjoying the feeling of your one bare foot on the dusty wood floor. You can barely walk far enough to retrieve the costume dress, let alone bend down and pick it up, but by some divine intelligence you manage.

After redressing to the best of your ability, you limp back downstairs—talk about a walk of shame. Although, despite your embarrassment, you do note that the house feels…emptier. Lighter. It’s nice.

You don’t have an excuse for why you’re so disheveled, or why you’re walking so weirdly, or why you’re so sweaty. You don’t care. You’re going to walk out that door, get your last half of the payment, and go home and get a good night’s sleep knowing that, in some impossibly strange way, you did a good thing.

The one thing you will never admit, though, is that you were very wrong:

Ghosts are real.

And you have the wet dream to prove it.

If you liked this fic, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out.

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

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sunnie-angel · 11 months ago

Text

Singing in the Rain

jason todd x f!reader

summary: you get caught in the rain after a date, and well, there's really only so much you can do to entertain yourselves until it stops pouring

tags: kissing, fingering, fluff

rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k

a/n: inspired by an ask from @orchidsangel. ro this prompt crawled inside my brain and would not let me know peace until i had written it

The restaurant Jason chose for your date night was excellent, as always. Good drinks, better food, and even better, close enough to Jason’s apartment to walk to. It had been a beautiful summer’s afternoon, and the two of you had decided to walk to dinner, anticipating a walk back in the cool night air, hands interlaced and bellies full.

“You know, this might just be my new favourite restaurant. Going to have to come down to this part of the city more often.” you sigh, satisfied.

“Oh?” and a cocked eyebrow shouldn’t look so adorable on a man of his size but it does. “Are you saying that a good restaurant is your only draw to this side of town?”

“Well,” you pretend to think it over, “there might just be this cute guy I know that lives only a few blocks away. Maybe I’ll have to give him a visit too. Only after I’ve eaten myself silly of course.”

“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to make sure the dessert I serve is worth your while.” He’s fully waggling his eyebrows, such an exaggerated leer on his face that you swat at his shoulder to try and get him to stop, but he just dances out of the way. He makes the most ridiculous faces, your Jason, when he’s trying to get you to laugh, and it works too.

You’re almost bent in half from the force of your giggles, Jason coming to a stop in the pool of light thrown by the streetlamp to watch you dissolve. The giggles pass eventually, but the smile never leaves your face. Loosening your arms from where they’d been clutching around your middle, you start to straighten up, drawn into Jason’s orbit. The look on his face has transformed into something soft and real, eyes bright and lips parted a hair. His lock of white hair has fallen into his eyes, but he’s so transfixed by you in your floaty dinner dress that he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s got his arms wrapped around your back, drawing you close, head turned up to his like a flower follows the sun. If this were a movie, this is the part where he’d kiss you senseless under the stars and street light.

What actually happens is the skies open up, buckets of water raining down on you in seconds. You give out a little shriek, surprised at the sudden cold interruption to your romantic evening. The two of you look up at the sky, as if your attention would change anything about the situation. Jason looks back down at you, mischievous grin catching your eye before his lips are on yours, warm and soft and slick with rain. He draws back far to soon, has you chasing after his lips for more.

“C’mon!” he yells, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “I think there’s a phone booth up ahead, we can wait out the worst of it there.” He grabs your hand and turns, careful not to run too fast to risk you tripping in your heels on the wet pavement.

The phone box is there, exactly where Jason said it was. It’s a tight fight. Jason’s a large man and the phone booth was only meant to hold one after all. You’re jammed into the corner, between the phone set and the side wall, Jason looming over you. His body swallows you up; if anyone were looking in from the outside, they wouldn’t be able to see you at all. He notices his hair dripping water into your face, slicks it back with one hand and leaning his elbow on top of the phone box, managing to take up even more space with that one movement.

“So Mr. Todd, do you corner girls in phone booths often?” the line’s only marginally better than ‘do you come here often’, but your goal here isn’t to be a wordsmith, it’s to tease him. And it works wonderfully.

“Only if they’re as pretty as you.” He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead. “Only if they’re as clever as you.” A kiss, barely there, to the tip of your nose. “Only if they’re as maddening as you.” said, hovering right over your mouth.

You shiver, whether from the rain or his words or his proximity, you couldn’t say. All you know is that you need him closer. Finally, after what seems like two lifetimes, does he give you what you want. He kisses you, softly. Nips at the swell of your bottom lip before licking into the seam of your mouth. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, keep you exactly where he wants you to be. Against the coolness of your rain chilled skin, his touch is like fire. You press your thighs together, overwhelmed with need but happy to carry on like this. The two of you get lost in the rhythm of lips and tongue, sweet and heady but tinged with desperation like you’ll never get this chance again. You shiver again, and Jason pulls back with concern, worried the rain has done you worse than expected.

“Doin’ alright darlin’?”

The chill from the rain has gone from your cheeks, chased away by the flush in them. Your pupils are blown wide, eyes glassy and dark for the man in front of you. Your chest is heaving, breath stolen away from you by all of those kisses. His hand goes to your side to steady you, brushing the side of your breast in the tight quarters. Jason doesn’t miss the way that glancing touch makes your body go taught, legs pressing even tighter together. He doesn’t miss the way that your sodden wrap dress clings to your body, nipples visible even through the built in bra. The rain is still drumming away, sound and sight isolating the two of you in your own little universe inside the phone booth.

“Or is there something I can help you out with?” his hand moves back up from your waist, cups your breast with a warmth you can feel even through the wet fabric. You nod, eagerly, and his thumb is brushing over your pebbled nipple with broad strokes. He kisses you, a distraction while his other hand starts playing with your neglected breast. If your panties weren’t already wet from the rain, they’d be soaked now. Jasons’ large hands feel so so good, cupping and teasing and cradling you, but you need more.

Pulling back for a second, you grab at one of his wrists. Trail his hand along your body, enjoy the anticipation and trail of blooming heat as his large palm settles between your legs to cup you.

“Need more. Please?” you asked through dewy lashes.

He inhales, sharply. “Okay, but you tell me to stop if you don’t like something, got it?” You kiss him in response. Jason promptly shoves his hand down the front of your panties, a little shocked by just how wet you are already.

“This all for me darlin’?” he grins, suddenly predatory. “Good.” And there’s a finger, thick and calloused and impossible hot sliding into you. It’s only one finger but the stretch is perfect, thicker and more satisfying than your own fingers, reaching so much deeper.

There’s a moment’s pause as you clench down at the sudden fullness, then the finger starts to thrust, curling inwards on every forward motion. Jason’s kissing at your jaw but you can barely concentrate over how good he feels inside of you. He’s got his thumb on your clit, alternating firm circles with light taps and its driving you crazy. You’re so wet now, you can just hear faint sopping sounds every time he drives his hand into you over the thrum of the rain.

A second finger prods at your entrance to test how ready you are, just as burning hot as the first one. It slides in with almost no resistance, pulling high breathy moans from you as he speeds up. He’s so thick, his two fingers splitting you open almost obscenely. On every thrust they curl into the soft spongy part of your walls that has you shuddering, pleasure sparking through you. The pressure on your clit never lets up, only varies, and the hand on your breast keeps kneading and teasing at your nipple. Your head falls back with a thunk, hitting the corner of the phone booth. There’s a high pitched whining sound that you vaguely recognize as coming from you, but you couldn’t stop it if you’d had the power to string together the thought to do so.

Jason is relentless, thrusting and grinding his hand into you, encouraging you to ride his fingers, driving your pleasure onward. The pressure in your belly is growing, muscles twitching and tightening. You scrabble to hold onto anything, knocking the phone off its hook to dangle on its cord, pleasure twisting and tightening where Jason keeps fucking into you.

When you come, it’s to ringing ears and legs unable to hold your weight up. Jason works a knee between your thighs and gets your hips to grinding against him to ride out the spasms of your orgasm. He pulls his hand out of your panties and waits until your soul has finally returned to your body before making eye contact and licking every last drop of you from his fingers. You shiver and twitch at the sight of his tongue curling around his knuckles to taste every sticky trace of you, grind your poor oversensitive clit into his thigh over and over.

Jason helps you to unsure feet, wobbling like a newborn doe in your high heels. He pulls your panties up into place and helps you right your dress. He’s just finished retying the bow for you when the sounds of the rain peter off. He glances out the glass door as you smooth your hands down the wet fabric of your skirt one more time.

“Rain’s letting up. Why don’t we run back to my place and have that dessert?” His grin is positively wolfish.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood x you #18+ mdni #sunnie writes 🌻

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deathbxnny · 25 days ago

Note

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

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