Wick and Wit

So yes, here's a story. It's a WIP and dear lord, I have no idea what I'm doing with it. If you steal my characters or writing, I'll turn you into a sprinkle and eat you. Thank you and goodnight /j
unless ya gots the perms, donnot edit. Wanna meet the author? @Hydrateordie
Edit- BAHHAH I have a plot now, so we gonna slowly develop that
== #Intro; Her ==
"Maybe, the moon is only beautiful because it is (so) far." ~Mahmoud Darwich
The little dragonet burbled, wriggling around in the little space. He was warm and squished just enough that the pressure was comforting.
It would have been a wonderful time to take a nap, except that he felt like he was bobbing up and down.
Or maybe being thrown. He didn’t know.
Though his eyes weren’t open, he felt it when the moonlight suddenly vanished, leaving him in complete darkness. 
It wasn’t a feeling he’d like to get used to.
The motion stopped, and he was left confused, and feeling very alone.
He could sense something nearby, fuzzy and buzzing. The same thing he’d been around for as long as he’d had a conscience.
Like a light in the dark, there was a vague scrape and a new thing entered his mind. 
Sweet and maternal and so alive. It made him think of the moons, and his chest panged with wanting to be closer to whatever this was.
He’d never seen the moons. Never heard anything like this mind, before. But he felt right when it came near, like being in the moonbeams.
He shifted as the being came closer, their voice growing stronger in him. The result was not what he’d been expecting.
Talons brushed his eggshell and his mind flooded painfully with information and things and places he’d never known. With the flood came the voice, a brief anesthetic to his thought overload.
They- no, she, he quickly learned- were not as enthusiastic to meet.
I’ve been queen for three weeks and I’ve already destroyed our tribe.
The talon withdrew as quickly as it came, a stark feeling of fear in its owner’s mind.
This cannot be happening. This is not allowed to happen.
Fear, and disgust. She thought ‘this’ and he felt she was indicating him. Why would she do that?
This being, the one who felt so right, whom he needed to know was repulsed by his existence.
This could destroy the tribes. I can not allow the second coming of Darkstalker. 
Which means I have to end it before it begins.
His heart thudded painfully, a new feeling of peril bubbling up within, replacing the contentment and comfort he’d known since now.
Get rid of it. Throw it off a cliff if you must.
== #2 or whatever; Curse ==
"Every blessing ignored becomes a curse." ~Paulo Coelho
The jolting, lilting feeling that accompanied movement had returned.
Whoever took him away had not yet thrown him off a cliff, and he was glad of that.
The encounter had still exhausted and scared him. His little heart thudded painfully.
He stretched out as far as he could, trying to relieve the pressure in his chest.
He didn’t like this feeling. Didn’t like being rejected, or scared. The dragoness had felt so right; like she would be there for him. Like he was hers.
His brief sense of belonging had been thrown in the trash, lit on fire, and rolled off a cliff.
Was this what life was going to be like?
Because if so, he’d stay in his egg, thank you very much.
Why would anybody want to feel like this, every day for the rest of their life?
What if he lived to be in his hundreds, as most dragons did? What if-
He came to an indiscreet, unceremonious stop and was placed on the ground. Gravity pulled the imperfect sphere of his egg to and fro, rolling around the little dragonet inside.
His stomach lurched, and he stretched out some, trying to give himself more support. After a second of stillness from inside, the egg settled on its side.
He gave a mental sigh of relief and then tensed as he felt a light touch down on his eggshell.
The moonlight pooled over the top of his egg, above his head, cool and watery and perfect.
Oh, moons. His heart hitched painfully in his chest.
He was feeling things he didn’t know how to explain, which had his temples and heart pounding in discomfort. He pushed out with his talons, trying to get closer to the moons and their light.
At first, nothing happened, and then the brittle shell gave way, a thin crack splitting it.
The moonlight felt stronger now, pulling; beckoning him to free himself.
His tail and wings unfurled, his back arched, and talons flexed, stretching out against his egg in all directions, little squeaks of desperate determination emitting from his throat.
The egg broke apart with a satisfying crack, spilling the little Nightwing out onto the cobble.
He gasped, startled by the world around him. He heard the crack of the shell. He could smell the grass. For a minute, he thought the best of it all was the air filling his lungs. But he lifted his eyes to the night sky and saw the moons.
All three, luminescent and full, shone down at him, and his excited gasps slowed to deeper breaths.
He felt wanted. Safe. For the whole of fifteen seconds.
A dragon stepped out from the left and leaned down to look at him. She blocked out the moons, and his little brows furrowed in protest. Her head tipped to the side, pale and glowing markings on her face lighting up in an intrigued way.
She picked him up. Her talons were cooler than he was, and he squirmed with a soft whimper.
Her maw parted and lifted at the corners, but the rest of her features were untouched. The smile was forced, faux- like she wasn’t used to being happy. As he struggled in her grip and she tightened her hold around his middle, the smile reached her eyes.
As fear-scent rolled off him in waves, she hummed, “Welcome to the world, my little curse.”
== #3 so yeah; Selkie (note! Timeskip of six years) ==
"People who are unhappy with themselves, cannot possibly be happy with you." ~Unknown
Six years had passed since he’d hatched. Six very long years with Selkie. She was his ward, and they were the only living animus. She said the universe had big plans for them. For him, specifically.
So he studied, he read, he practiced, he trained. He stayed put.
Bailiwick doubted there was anything he didn’t know about the two continents.
He felt like he knew everything about everything, except for his own life.
He had asked her, of course. ‘Who’s my mother? Where am I from? Why can’t I leave?’
‘She abandoned you, and I saved you. That’s all that matters now.’ That’s what Selkie said, and of course, she was right.
He owed his life to her, everything that he was.
It still hurt.
You say I’m all-powerful, that I’m better than any other dragon. What good is training to seer and mindread and to teleport and do all that I can do, if you’ll never let me go out into the world and do it?
Was he ever going to be good enough for his ward?
“Bailiwick, walk along.”
The order prompted a sigh from him, but he followed the directions.
“Posture, watch your posture. You’re slouching!”
His head and wings were up, steps steady and even. What am I doing wrong? Wick’s stomach churned, brows furrowing.
A serrated talon slammed down on his tail with a sickening crunch that made him cry out, whipping around. The dragoness behind him glowered, mouth twisted in disappointment. “Tail low, but not touching the ground.”
Bailiwick ducked his head and nodded, a terrible feeling of guilt building up inside.
She snarled at his display of difference, grabbing his face tightly in her talons and jerking it up. “Never bow to anyone. You’re better than them.”
He wasn’t living up to her expectations. It made him feel sick.
It made him want to do better.
Bailiwick nodded again, this time keeping his head up and looking her in the eyes.
He was going to do better.
== #4 so yes; Three Days (note vv) ==
fffyyii I do another timeskip here of around five years, so Bailiwick is now eleven! Forgot to mention this in the writing and who edits stuff /jj/j))
"Time is what we want most, but we use worst." ~William Penn
“Three days?” He breathed out, wide eyes fixed on Selkie, whose back was turned to him.
Turned away from him as she rummaged through her chests- off limits to him,- pulling out objects and stuffing them in a rucksack. She was packing to go and gather supplies elsewhere in Phyria. 
She’d never done this before. Sometimes she would vanish in the afternoons, while he slept, being a Nightwing and all, and then reappear before he woke for the remainder of the night.
That, or she would just magic whatever she needed to them. For a dragon that warned so frequently about the cost of animus magic, she cared very little for her own soul.
Did she even have one? 
He didn’t even process the thought before it came to him and he stepped on his own tail, hard, shame swarming up into his chest and eating away at his consciousness. 
How could you think something like that about her?
Selkie grumbled as he repeated her words in disbelief, not even noticing his mental conflict and self-punishment, “Yes, Bailiwick. I’m going somewhere for three days,” she turned to him as she repeated herself, nailing it into his memory, voicing the ‘somewhere’ bit with heavy emphasis and disdain.
Her tone almost reminded him of jealousy.
What did the only other animus have to fear of a moonborn who couldn’t read her mind?
He frowned as she turned away and, not for the first time, tried forcing his way past Selkie’s buzzing, fuzzy mental barrier. 
Even as he did so, he again stepped on his tail and bit back a whine of pain, frightened by his behavior and withdrawing his power. 
How could you, Bailiwick? You need to be reminded of your place.
“Bailiwick!” 
Lost in thought, he must have missed an order from her. Startled, he blinked at Selkie, feeling stupid.
Pay attention!
She bared her teeth, sighing heavily, “I said, I expect you to keep up with your studies,”
He was still worrying about missing what she said and she poked him hard in the forehead with a sharp talon to draw his attention back, making Bailiwick jump and wince.
Selkie drew herself up and fixed him with a look full of venom and veiled threats.
“This is me trusting you, little king. Do not betray my trust,”
Bailiwick nodded, sitting up.
I won’t mess this up. You’ll see.
== #5; A Strange, Strange Gal ==
"If you've never had friends, you've never lived life." ~Unknown
It was day two when things started to go wrong. Bailiwick had to chase his lunch into the forest. He wasn’t allowed in the forest.
What harm could it do?
He followed the duck, weaving through trees, scrambling over downed trunks and over stumps before bursting out into an open glade split by a winding, sparkling stream.
The duck hopped into the water in front of Bailiwick, sending up a spray of droplets into his face.
He blinked several times to clear his vision, and slipped on the rocks, landing hard in the stream.
“Ha!”
A new voice cried out and when he sat up there was a little plum-colored dragon, her talons clamped over her maw and stifling giggles.
He stared at her, too surprised to feel offended that she was laughing at his dunk in the stream.
“I’m so sorry!” The other dragon squeaked, rosy scales highlighting her snout and talons as she flushed. “That wasn’t funny, you getting your tail kicked by a duck. Not-”
She covered her mouth as she started to giggle again, only just managing to finish her sentence, “Not funny at all,”
Bailiwick felt a small smile tug at the corner of his maw, and then confusion settled in his stomach as he stared.
What about this strange, little, color-changing dragoness was amusing? Nothing- but he was still smiling.
“Helllooo?”
Bailiwick jumped, startled because now she was only a couple of inches away, pulling him out of the water.
“S-Sorry?” He stammered, wincing and preparing to be yelled at.
But she just flashed him an endearing smile and reached out to wipe a wet leaf off his shoulder. “I was just introducing myself, no need to be sorry!”
Bailiwick blinked, his expression and posture softening as a little voice in his mind whispered Selkie would never have done that.
“I’m Fruit! How ‘bout you, boo?” She chirped, orange ruff flaring some as she beamed at him.
He found himself smiling again, one-hundred percent feeding off of her cheerful attitude.
He responded, “Bailiwick. I’m Bailiwick.”
Fruit’s nose scrunched up and for a second it reminded him again of Selkie, and he worried he’d said something stupid.
Her smile never faltered, though, simply saying with a giggle, “I’ve never heard a name like that. Its a lot more interesting than mine,”
Bailiwick shook his head as his smile broadened, and he gestured with a talon at her being to indicate her kind-heartedness, joyful smiles and colorful scales. “More interesting than you? Look at you!”
Fruit flushed, trying to protest his compliment even as crimson, pink and orange popped up along her snout and perked ears and ruff.
He laughed and was startled but excited by the sound, a feeling of contentment bubbling up inside as Bailiwick watched his strange new friend stammer and blush.
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)