Oneshots, etc.

Lizard/Freedom WoF

SPOILER WARNING: This contains spoilers for book 15 of Wings of Fire. If you are currently reading the series, or plan to in the future, I do not recommend reading this.

A/N: Lizard/Freedom is a favourite of mine, so this is a sort of interpretation of her backstory and P.O.V. during Flames of Hope. Also, I started writing this at like ten O'clock at night and am still not done as of me writing this (It's 12:30 AM)(Extra note: I AM NOW DONE, I AM FREE, IT IS ONE IN THE MORNING BUT I AM FREE FROM MY BRAIN CREATING THIS-). So if you see any typos just chalk it up to my tiredness (And please let me know where they are so I can fix them). Characters may be very Out of Character in this, but I tried my best. The first part is better than the second though, in my opinion.
By the way, don't expect any more WoF content from me in the future. I prefer to keep the fandom and the actual books seperate in my mind, so this is pretty much a one-time thing.

Also, trigger warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of abuse (Technically? I think? I'm not sure what Cottonmouth did specifically, but I'm pretty sure it counts.), graphic descriptions of death, mentions of hearing voices in one's head (Breath of Evil).

Lizard/Freedom's backstory is messed up.

The little dragon scampered around the cavern, trying to escape. The clamps and bindings around her wings were gone now, and she was finally out of the box, but out of the box apparently meant ending up in an even bigger box.

"Stop that, lizard." A boot slammed into her wings, knocking her over. Despite the new lack of pain, she yelped. "You've ruined enough of my plans for now." The human snarled. Cottonmouth was his name, according to the other humans. Dumb name, if you asked her.

When Cottonmouth stepped away, she leapt up, growling and hissing. Not knowing the right words, or any words, meant she couldn't insult him the way she wanted to, so snapping at him would have to do. He scowled down at where she was trying valiantly to chew his arm off.

"If I didn't need you to control the plant, you'd already be dead." He snarled in a low, angry tone, shaking her off and sending her flying across the room. She snarled back, righting herself.

That's right! She though triumphantly. You need me or the plant won't work!

The... plant. She froze. Memories rushed through her mind of being held tightly in Cottonmouth's lap as the vines rushed towards them. Trying to escape, but being tugged back by rough hands and whispering leaves, wanting to run, to fly, to get away. Begging, in her wordless noises, for someone, anyone, to help her. One of the nicer humans, the blank-eyed human from before, her mother, who she had never been able to meet. No one came.

No one but the plants.

They pushed as she struggled, tying her up, slicing through the soft scales of her throat. Growing their way through her tongue and into her brain, as she choked on her own blood. Breaking through her skull and into Cottonmouth's, twining and twisting their way around her horns. She had felt every bit of it, heard the voice of the plant murmuring hungrily all the while.

Cottonmouth had been lucky. He'd died as soon as it came into contact with his brain. He hadn't felt his skull split open, heard the whispers of the plant as it devoured their minds and bodies.

For the first and last time, she had wished she was human. In the future she would scoff at herself and pretend she didn't remember the fear and the pain. But back then she wanted nothing but for the pain to stop and the whispers to go silent. If she was human, they wouldn't have done all this, would they? They wouldn't have taken her food, trapped her, hurt her. If she was human, she wouldn't hear the plants. If she was human, some other dragon would be there instead, feeling what she had to feel.