#im-x-winging-it

[staruie]

where my fellow monster fuckers at 👅👅👅👅👅👅

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[rapidhighway]

that's gotta hurt

[resvarie]

caught starin at the supposed herald of andraste

[thestarseternaal]

does anyone else get deja vú by sloane and dain? a first year and her wingleader? your father killed my brother? they're so xaden and violet coded 🥹🥹

[emmavakarian-theirin]

alternate bad ending

(inspired drabble under the cut)

Lucanis has been taught to accept death since he was a child. He's trained in it. He's used to it. But that doesn't mean what family he has left isn't important to him. Rather it's what matters to him most.

Then he gets imprisoned and tortured. He watches people die, week after week for a year. He's made to think he's going to die at any moment. Made to think that his family is dead. But he doesn't know.

Then you come along, set him free, return him home to find only one family member left, the other probably dead after all. But he still doesn't know.

Then she's alive, imprisoned by the same person that imprisoned him, the other living relative. But he can't kill him. He won't be the reason to lose what he has left, and there's so little left.

But then there's you, who's shown him compassion he's never known, that there's something more than just family/contracts/enemies. That it's safe to be vulnerable around someone.

But he's scared to get close. Scared he'll hurt you. Scared he'll lose you, to himself, to a god, to something he can't kill.

Then his walls start to break. He doesn't know what he'd do without you. And then you disappear. You might be dead. A day, a week, a month goes by. You're still not back. You're probably dead. He thinks he'll never see you again.

It's weeks of not knowing, and he's wasted all this time fearing he'd only take time away from you, time he could have given you instead of pushing you away, and he's lost you anyway. You could have both been happier, if he wasn't so broken.

Then you're back, and nothing else matters, there's no holding back. He'll do anything to protect you, you are his sole purpose now. This he knows, more than anything.

Then the battle is over, the gods are dead, and so are you in his arms. He couldn't protect you.

He knows death. He knows you're dead.

But only now after decades without, does he remember what it's like to grieve.

[dumbkiri]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

ρℓσт: second year at basgaith did not start out the way you wanted. xaden left you behind breaking his promise to you. luckily for you, some memories can be erased.

αηgѕт

ησтє: I changed up the timeline of events to fit this prompt. This is a reader insert, but you do have blue eyes. Just wanted to warn ya, but I need you to somewhat resemble Liam/Sloane. And yes, Sgaeyl enjoys your company :) Lenin is the offspring of Sgaeyl/Tairn cuz y not? and you have a cool ass signet...obviously this is made for fun! apologies for typos in names and shiii not proofread!

“I will never leave you behind.” 

That is what he promised you the year before Violet Sorrengail came into his life. Xaden Riorson hadn’t broken a commitment and you never thought he could. He trained you, made you stronger in the year you first joined Basgaith College. Then there were moments you two shared behind closed doors, moments you believed you could only have between each other. 

Then second year came around and you could not believe how fickle his resolution could become. His declaration of loyalty melted in the palm of her hands like she held onto him the entire time. Like she knew him all these years of creating the rebellion and rebuilding his home, your home. It didn’t matter that his life was tied to hers. No, that was an excuse. He got close to her and now people wouldn’t stop talking about how he ditched you for Violet. 

You did your best to laugh about the teasing remarks or smile at the reassurances your friends made. But they hurt more than anything because the truth lies within their words. 

With their pitiful looks, it felt like they told you, ‘Read between the lines, [Name]. He dropped you for silver. Time to move on.’

And to make matters worse? Xaden made your brother act as her bodyguard. You couldn’t even spend time with Liam because he was wrapped up in his duty of being Violet’s friend and protector. You’d hope that you would have time with Liam to catch up between all the letters you sent to him. Yet every time you tried to catch his attention, he would hug you with a grin then say ‘I’m sorry, but I’ll be back. I promise.’ He left you to go follow Violet like a puppy. 

Not only that, your best friend is also training her! You hadn’t had her by your side in what felt like forever. You usually wake up early to spar with Imogen, instead you have to deal with Garrick and his huge body. God, you felt so alone in your stupid room reminding you of their presence. Xaden’s shirts, Liam’s wooden figurine of Lenin and Imogen’s stupid training dummy. 

Everyone that spent time with you is now focused on Violet Sorrengail. 

“You are not alone, Dagger,” Lenin said, his voice washing over you like ocean waves, “You have me and I think this is the time to push further with your signet.” 

He is right, you have better things to focus on. You pushed yourself off your bed and sat yourself in the middle of the room. You closed your eyes and felt yourself leaving your dorm room. Turns out your signet isn’t really cloaking, it’s manipulating matter and energy. Cloaking works because you manipulate the speed of light to slow it down allowing you to force it around your body or other subjects. So when an outsider looks at you or the tested objects, they would have no idea of your presence. 

“You still have no idea how it works, do you?” The dagger on your nightstand vibrated with pure power waiting for you to tap into it. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay,” You laughed in your old bedroom. Pushing yourself up from the carpeted floor, you walked over to the night stand and picked up the vibrating dagger. You wonder how your friends tap into their bond. How they picture their dragons. 

Lenin called you Dagger the moment he accepted you as his rider. It was a nice sentiment and better than most nicknames others receive. 

“It fits you,” Lenin hummed, “You killed that group with only a dagger and now you are unstoppable in any challenge you face. You give that oaf a run for his money.”

“Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” You barked out, a giggle shaking your body with happiness.The dagger grew warmer in your hold and you gripped it tight. This is when your signet proved to be at its best, when you were happy. And Lenin knew this. 

“Try cloaking yourself then moving some objects around you, one at a time,” Lenin growled in warning, “We do not want you chucking me out the window again.” 

“Hey! That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

 You sat back down in your previous spot and allowed yourself to focus on your breathing. Lenin hummed in your head, filling it with memories of your first flight with him. Honestly the best feeling after a storm is being reborn in the evening light with a dragon to call your protector. 

“My mother enjoys our flights out together, it’s a shame Shadow is preoccupied with whatever he does in the dark.” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” 

The way Lenin hummed in satisfaction knew you made him happy with that suggestion. “She would love that, Dagger.” 

……

“Hey, [N.Name], you in here?” 

Imogen knocked twice on your bedroom door then waited for your response. Five beats of silence went by and she looked over her shoulder at the group with a raised eyebrow. 

“Seems like she’s out,” She removed her hand from the door knob and took one step back until Xaden’s gruff voice stopped her. 

“Open the door and we’ll see if she’s actually gone.” 

Imogen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “Alright, look. No offense to Violet, but [Name] will not be interested in training her. Especially when we…” The pink haired female moved her hand around lazily, hoping for Xaden and Liam to get the point without having to explain it right in front of Violet. 

“When you guys what?” Violet questioned looking at the three of them, confusion stapled onto her face. 

Xaden shook his head and said, “Doesn’t matter, right now Violet needs her help. Liam is here to convince her and you’re here to open her door.” 

Imogen never liked this idea in the first place. Talk about violating one’s privacy for another’s benefit. She just hoped you would forgive her when they all walked into your room uninvited. Imogen placed her hand on the handle and opened it up while holding her breath. 

She hadn’t seen you in awhile. Only briefly in classes then she had to go training with Violet. Yet her training wasn’t enough, Violet needed to get better with daggers. Xaden had the bright idea of asking the expert, Cloak and Dagger, to teach the silver-haired girl. Damn it, if only Imogen was a better teacher you wouldn’t have to be dealing with a pain like this. 

Watching your crush hover over another girl. 

Even Sgaeyl disapproved of Xaden’s choice. The blue dragon always had a liking for you and she would lean over you if someone got too close in the field. Now the female dragon has to deal with Violet Sorrengail and her weak nature. 

“I’m working on the explanation, okay?” 

Your bubbly laugh hit Imogen in the heart with a pang of guilt. She kind of forgot your laugh, but she couldn’t admit that to you. Imogen slowly walked in and watched you sit in the middle of the room with the dagger you earned from Garrick floating a foot just above your lap. 

Your eyes were closed which allowed her and the rest to walk into your room. Someone closed the door behind her, but Imogen’s eyes were glued onto you. How can you not get any cooler than this? 

The floating dagger spun a few times and you laughed again, “Lenin, his name is Garrick and he’s a nice guy! An oaf is a crazy way to describe someone you met once!” 

Liam coughed out a laugh and everyone turned their heads at him. He shrugged his shoulders and whispered, “I don’t think she can hear us. She explained before that when she taps into the bond with Lenin, a cloak is automatically draped over the both of them. Think of mega-shields.” 

“Hey!” You suddenly shouted making everyone freeze, then you said, “That was by accident, besides Liam made another figurine of you! Can you imagine if the one of Sgaeyl was thrown out? Yeesh, you think she’d forget about me too?” 

Imogen sighed out in relief, letting the breath she was holding out. Then anger flared her system up. Your words sunk in and she looked at Liam and Xaden, “This is exactly what I meant by what we did. We dropped her because of you.” She pointed at Xaden then moving her glare towards Violet, “I get it, you guys have mated dragons, but I don’t know what is going on with [Name]. She’s my best friend and ever since I’ve been stuck on training duty, I haven't known for a while what's going on and the only one who really keeps in contact with her is Garrick and Bodhi.” 

“[Name] knows that isn’t the truth,” Liam’s smile fell and he stepped up to Imogen, “She also knows how important it is to keep Violet alive. If she dies, Xaden dies. Do you know how important that is?” 

Imogen squared Liam up, ready to defend her best friend, you, “I do, but Violet’s survival relies on her now. A friend we all dropped since Violet bonded with Sgaeyl’s mate. How would you react if your friends, who forgot about you, barged into your room uninvited then asked for your help in training that girl? I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings. Or did you forget about that too?” 

“Oh, I know! We can invite your mom to fly with us. We can go early tomorrow that way Xaden doesn’t know! What do you say to that?” You chirped and the dagger spun faster this time and you disappeared in a blink of an eye. Then small items around your dorm began floating one at a time. First it was Sgaeyl’s figurine on top of a shelf that floated, disappeared, reappeared then placed gently back in its place. Next it was one of Xaden’s shirts then your notebook. 

“Sgaeyl likes [Name]?” Violet piped up with genuine surprise. Yet the tense atmosphere flicked on like a light and the spinning dagger stopped moving. In a second, Violet swore, the dagger’s edge was pointed in her direction and it shot towards her. 

“Violet!” Andarna shouted.

“Silver One, get down!” Tairn ordered. 

Time slowed down and Violet forced herself to drop towards the floor. When she did, time resumed and the dagger embedded itself into the wall behind Violet meanwhile a wall of shadows rose up too late to protect her. 

“What. The. Hell!” You shouted, uncloaking yourself, and glaring at the people in your room. Your blue eyes flashing dangerously as you stood up and briskly walked over to the wall to retrieve your dagger. “I could have killed her! Killed you!” You spat while pulling the dagger out of the wall with ease. 

“What are you guys doing in my room?” You asked, frustrated that everyone is left stupified by what happened. 

“We,” Liam began looking at the hole made in the wall. You really could have ended four lives in one second. A second that Xaden reacted too late to save Violet. Liam helped Violet up and continued on, “We wanted to ask for your help. Violet needs expertise in challenges and she likes using daggers. I suggested that-” 

“Did you suggest or did Xaden tell you?” You asked, putting the dagger into the sheath at your hip. When Liam hesitated to answer you moved your attention to Imogen, “And you, you used your privilege to allow them into my room? I almost killed Violet, Imogen!” 

“[Name],” Imogen called out softly and she put her hand on your arm to calm you down, “I’m sorry, but Liam is right. Violet needs your help and I tried all that I could. You’re more skilled and patient than I am. Also yes, Xaden did tell us to do this.”

You closed your eyes and leveled out your breathing. 

“Lenin, they could have died. Your parents,” You reached out to him and he didn’t hesitate to reach back. 

“It’s okay, Dagger,” Lenin hummed, “Andarna saved Violet, you need not worry.” 

You opened up your eyes and sighed. You couldn’t forgive yourself if Lenin came to hate you. The only reason why you weren’t alone was because he stuck by your side. “I’m not interested in training duties. As you can tell, I’m busy working on my signet. It obviously needs work.” 

You turned your back on them and waved a dismissive hand at them, “You can walk yoruselves out.” They mumbled behind you and then the door closed right after. Yet you still felt his demanding authority. 

“Your signet isn’t cloaking, is it?” 

“Obviously not, Xaden,” You answered back, gathering some of his shirts in your arms. This was the perfect moment to return them since he spared some time to talk to you. For her. He was only here for her, you grimly reminded yourself. 

“I found out at the beginning of this year, you would have known if you asked how I was doing,” You were not at all ready to face him. Knowing that this could be your goodbye to him. He may have let you go, but you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. 

“I can manipulate light and matter,” You explained, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, clutching onto his shirts like a lifeline, “I can cloak multiple items and even Lenin despite his size. Right now, I’m messing around with the space surrounding objects to lift them up. I wanted to learn how to cloak other dragons like Sgaeyl or Deigh or Glane. But you guys are too busy. So I’m focusing on the levitating part of my signet.” 

“That’s incredible,” He said with unfeigned amazement.  

You couldn’t help, but agree with him. The smile on your face bringing back the dazzle in your blue eyes, “Right? I mean if I can cloak multiple dragons at once, imagine how any battle will go. Our enemies won’t know we’re coming and-” 

“I miss this girl,” Sgaeyl interrupted you and Xaden felt her pride rise, “Leninach knows exactly how to choose a strong rider. And I wouldn't mind flying with them again either.”

“Then tell your son to convince her to train Violet,” Xaden said, “You do that then we will fly with them.” 

“I’ll fly with them with or without you,” She growled. 

“-and I want to apologize for almost killing Violet. I didn’t recognize her voice.” You finished and looked into his dark eyes. 

Xaden tilted his head in a slight angle, “Liam did mention that you are blocked out from the world when you channel. But the moment Violet spoke, you threw the dagger her way. Tell me that wasn’t intentional.” 

You rolled your eyes and tossed his shirts at him which he caught effortlessly. “I told you I didn’t recognize her voice. And Liam is half-correct. When I channel, I feel this cold washing over my body like ocean waves. That’s the whole cloaking bit. He calls it mega-shields, leave it to my brother to come up with something corny.” 

You walked over to your bed and sat on the cushion of it. You brushed the ripples on your sheets away and said, “Regular shields block out anyone, friend or foe. Mega-shields block out my friends because when I channel I know I’m safe around them. So when I channel to use the levitating part of my signet, I’m left vulnerable. Which means I’m more perceptive of foes or people I don’t trust. Violet isn’t an enemy, but she certainly isn’t my friend either.” 

“You’d like her,” Xaden cut in, “She’s smart like you and she’s dealing with a group that is targeting her because she’s the general’s daughter and Tairn is her dragon.” He said it because he knew you’d relate to her. During your first year, a group targeted you because you were very close to Xaden and your dragon was the third largest dragon known. Yet unlike you, she didn’t kill the people that went after her. Not yet. 

You vividly remember the year of your Threshing. The way the fog clouded your vision, the rain washed the blood off your clothes. The first time you heard Lenin speak to you with pride. You killed six people with the dagger you earned from Garrick during challenges. But the seventh was saved for Lenin.

“She’s nothing like me,” Your bite was cold with truth, “I killed those that came for me during my Threshing. She let Jack Barlowe run away. I broke my opponents bones and sliced them up with my dagger in challenges, she poisoned them. I can mount my dragon despite his huge size and hold onto him while flying. I don’t need Lenin to hold me down with lesser magic.”

Xaden grabbed the chair at your desk and sat on it. He rested his forearms on his knees and leaned in with heavy shoulders. Yeah, you were right. Violet couldn’t even hold a candle to you, but his convincing needed…convincing. 

Xaden looked into your blue eyes in what felt like forever and his demeanor softened up. He remembered how well you tore down his walls even when you glared at him like that. You always had that effect on him and he missed it. He hadn’t been able to relax ever since Violet bonded with Tairn. Couldn’t walk past you without Sgaeyl snarling at him for his indifference. 

“[Name], please I don’t want to argue with you. I need you to do this. You’re the only one that can help her.”

“Wow, you got him to beg,” Lenin chuffed. 

You rolled your eyes and mulled about the idea of training Violet. Is it possible to train a fragile girl like her? The only thing she’s got going for her is her intelligence. So what? All you had to do was get her to manage her dagger skills as well or even better than you. 

“I’ll give her a week to pick up my technique,” You stood up from the bed and walked over to your door, “If she doesn’t learn at least some of it, she’s a lost cause, got it?” 

“A week,” Xaden agreed and he pushed himself off your chair. Then he stood right in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You reeled back from the action and said, “It was good to see you, Xaden.” 

You opened the door for him and gently pushed him out of your room. He nodded his head silently and let you lead him out. He missed the feeling of your hands on him and missed when you smiled at him. Xaden will admit his thoughts have been clouded by Violet for many reasons. 

I don’t think you understand that your sister has feelings.

Imogen’s shout at Liam from earlier echoed in his head. She was right, [Name] had every right to refuse them. Xaden neglected her feelings for him while also pushing his feelings for her away in the back of his mind. Now that his life was tethered to Violet’s he couldn't afford not to protect her with all he could. 

He expended his friends and family’s time to revolve around Violet. Now he was making you swallow a heavy pill by having you instructing the girl that took him from you. 

“So how did it go?” Liam asked when you closed your door on them, not even saying goodbye to him or Imogen. The action hurt Liam and Imogen, yet they did not try to argue with you. 

Xaden sighed and said, “Violet has one week to learn [Name]’s technique. If she doesn’t catch on to any of it, consider Violet a lost cause. Her words, not mine.” 

“Great,” Violet mumbled, not at all confident in her skill. 

……

When night came, Imogen struggled to fall asleep in her bed. Not even Glane’s words of reassurance helped her to get a wink of sleep. Instead Imogen spent her time glaring holes into her ceiling thinking about today’s events. 

The hurt and anger in your face plagued her mind. 

BAM! BAM!

Two heavy knocks rattled Imogen’s door and she shot up in her bed in alarm. She jumped out of her sheets when she heard Garrick on the other side of the door, voices rushed and drowned out on the other side. 

Imogen jogged over to her door and opened it up to spot Garrick and Bodhi looking at her worriedly. Then Garrick said, “You need to open [Name]’s door again. It’s an emergency.” 

The pink-haired girl followed her friends and asked, “What is going on? Is she okay?” 

Garrick shook his head, “Well if what she’s being accused of is true, then no. She will be in trouble.” 

Imogen looked down the dark hall and spotted Xaden pacing in front of your door with bloodied knuckles and shadows twisting haphazardly around the halls. She needed to know what happened. “Xaden, what is going on?” 

Xaden stopped pacing and pointed at your door, “Open it now.” 

Imogen didn’t hesitate this time, the fury in his voice moved her and she opened her friend’s bedroom door. Inside it was dark and when the mage light flicked on, your bed was empty and made. 

“She’s not here,” Imogen told the boys and she glared at them, “Now can one of you tell me what’s going on? Why the hell am I being woken up at the crack ass of dawn?” 

Xaden, obviously pissed, zoned out and everyone knew he was reaching out to Sgaeyl. 

Bodhi stepped up to speak and said, “Violet was attacked by the unbonded riders. She said that the one who wasn’t caught left the hallway like a shimmer. Like [Name]’s cloaked shimmer.” He looked at Imogen with nervousness like he sensed her anger. 

Imogen couldn’t believe it. She dragged the males into your warded room one by one. Then she closed the door behind her and yelled at them, full on shouting at their stupidity, “You have got to be kidding me! You guys really believe [Name] would let unbonded riders attack Violet? She just agreed to train her! You cannot be this fucking stupid!” 

Then she had to hit the nail on the coffin. Your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore. It did when you first developed your signet, but when Xaden encouraged you to get rid of that shimmer you achieved that goal in two months. How could the guys forget this? It’s like after all this distance they put between them and you made them forget how your signet works!

“Her cloak doesn’t shimmer, dumbasses!” 

But Xaden was out the door already, his hands clenched up in his frustration. 

“Where are you going?” Garrick called out to him. 

“To the flight field,” Xaden responded, his steps heavy with determination to get your truth. 

……

You stretched your limbs after dismounting Lenin with a smile on your face, looking at the two dragons before you. Your bright blue eyes landed on the blue dragon and you bowed your head, “Thank you Sgaeyl for joining us. I know that after Xaden stopped hanging out with me, we don’t go on our flights anymore.” 

Sgaeyl leaned down and huffed into your face, a sign of acceptance. 

“She says ‘I look forward to early flights with you now’,” Lenin chuffed. 

You reached your hand out to the blue dragon and avoided eye contact with her. You waited for her to boop your palm with her snout and after a few seconds she indulged in your request. The grin on your face washed away the moment you heard Xaden shout at you. 

“Back the hell away from Sgaeyl!” 

In surprise you turned around and watched Xaden in his flight jacket and uniform make his way towards you. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Xaden, he was beyond pissed and it was directed at you. Was he seriously mad that you went out flying with Sgaeyl and Lenin? 

“Lenin, what happened?” You asked your dragon, taking one step backwards into his warm chest. 

“The Silver One was attacked,” Lenin answered. 

He snarled and leaned his neck down, guarding you from Xaden’s line of sight. 

“You are agitating Lenin,” Sgaeyl warned Xaden. 

Xaden stopped a few feet away from the pair of dragons and took a deep breath in. Upsetting a blue dragon is not on his bucket list. Neither was threatening a black dragon’s rider. 

So he started off slowly, “Did you let unbonded riders in Violet’s room?” 

You owlishly blinked behind Lenin’s cover and scoffed. You just came back from flying and he’s asking you about such a thing. An action like this is damaging for your reputation, to your friends and squad. Walking away from Lenin’s protection, you made your way to Xaden to stand in front of him. “You seriously asking me that question? Why would I let unbonded riders into her room? The only way they can bond to Tairn is if she dies, but newsflash Xaden, Tairn and Sgaeyl will die if she does!”

“She said that one got away and that they left with a shimmer, only your cloak shimmers,” He growled out. Then he grabbed you by your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh, “Don’t tell me that your jealousy got the best of you that you had to kill Violet. Tell me you aren’t that petty to kill her, us, or me!” 

Did he truly believe that jealousy could be your motive to kill Violet Sorrengail? Hell if it was, you would have done so long ago. But you weren’t that shallow. You ignored Violet like the plague, didn’t bother to get to know her because it physically hurt you. The girl that captured Xaden’s attention in one second undid all the work you did in years to get him to notice you. 

Finally when it was happening, when he called you yours, Violet came in like the storm she was. Uprooting your friends and family. 

“My cloak doesn't shimmer anymore, Xaden,” You said dejectedly, you didn’t have the energy to fight him right now. To explain that your cloak stopped shimmering two months after your signet popped up. “I may be jealous of her, but I’m not the one who broke a promise. I may hate her for stealing my friends and family, but I wouldn’t kill her out of spite. I just told you yesterday that I was willing to put my differences aside and train her. 

“Then why did she describe your cloak?” His hands fell away from your arms, the warmth gone in a breeze. 

You shoved your goggles in your flight jacket and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, but I was flying out with Sgaeyl and Lenin. They can vouch for me, we’ve been flying out for hours. 

“It’s true, we were gone long before the girl was attacked,” Sgaeyl confirmed. 

“I hope you find the true culprit,” You walked past him and to the direction of the college. Your shoulders are heavy with the realization that he will always choose her over you. Whether it stems from his growing need for her or keeping her alive, it didn’t matter anymore. He broke the promise and left you behind.  

“[Name], where are you going? I’m not done asking questions,” Xaden turned around, but you kept on walking. 

“I’m going to forget this conversation ever happened,” You declared with certainty. And one person can help you with that, you just hope she’s awake. 

……

When you walked into your room, mentally drained from the conversation with Xaden, you were caught off guard by Imogen’s presence. Her right leg bobbed up and down as if she was waiting for you to arrive. This made the trip to her way easier, the walk of shame was going to be very painful if you did walk towards her room. 

“Imogen?” Your soft voice awoke her from her trance and she jumped up from your chair with a sigh of relief. 

“Finally, you’re back,” She jogged over to you and embraced you in a tight hug. Okay, Imogen rarely hugs you and this one felt like she needed it. “I was so worried when everyone started pointing fingers at you for letting unbonded riders into Violet’s room. But I knew it wasn’t you, your cloak doesn’t shimmer anymore.” 

You huffed out with a grimace, “I’m glad one of my friends remembers that it doesn’t. Anyways can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything,” Imogen breathed out and pulled back with a smile. 

You nodded your head and said, “Erase my memories. I need to forget that Xaden just accused me of endangering his girlfriend.” Not that they are dating just yet, but it wouldn’t take long for them to develop feelings for one another. 

“But if I do that-” 

“If he wants me to train Violet, I need to forget this morning,” You pleaded with her, grabbing her hand and forcing her palm to touch your cold forehead, “Imogen, please. I cannot look at Violet knowing she accused me of something so horrid then Xaden blaming me for it. Do this for me.” 

“Okay,” Imogen reluctantly agreed. She watched your tears fall down your face and you smiled at her hopefully. 

“Thank you.”  

You wished Imogen could erase more than the conversation. You wanted her to erase all your feelings for Xaden Riorson. 

Forget his hands roaming your body and the kisses he left in his wake. Forget the way he said your name with adoration and the way he stared into your eyes with longing. 

Because you could train Violet with ease if you held no feelings for Xaden. But hey, not everyone can have what they want. This is a lesson for you and hopefully Xaden will finally remember how much you mean to him. 

Soon, it will happen. A feeling so deep in the pit of your stomach made you believe that. 

[seamistgale]

Fanart of Batboy Au from @nightingale-prompts !! psst go read it i love it ty for writing it!!

[cupidragon]

Dain: go fuck yourself.

Sloane: fuck me yourself, you coward!

[violetsorengail]

What even am I? Hers.

[mustarddoods]

If I shall fall. On that day.

I only pray;

Don't fall away from me.

[velarisdusk]

Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

word count: 1.9k author's note: i had the idea for this one literally AS i was writing the last one im annoyed i didnt write it right after bc i know i had GREAT ideas that i literally cannot remember anymore sigh ✦ . AU Masterlist . ✦ ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The venue hums with the kind of energy you’d expect for a band as big as Wings of Illyria, the low chatter and country rock playing in the background almost drowned out by the buzz around the meet-and-greet booth.

Cassian, the life of the party you always imagined him to be, is already surrounded by fans, effortlessly drawing people in with that easy grin of his. But security is quick to move in, ushering people away with practiced calm, the crowd reluctantly shifting to make room for the band’s massive presence.  Rhysand sits beside him, polished and smooth as ever, his gaze flicking between the crowd and the band’s merch, playing the role of the charming frontman like he was born for it. But Azriel—Azriel looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You spot him leaning back in his chair, a half-smirk barely visible beneath the dark fringe of his hair, eyes scanning the room with a look that says he’s mentally checked out. The cigarette tucked behind his ear, defying the “No Smoking” sign above the booth, is the least surprising thing about him.

You can’t help but notice how effortlessly Azriel leans into the atmosphere, the way his posture seems to say he’s both above it all and fully in control of the space around him. The black leather jacket slung over his chair, the way his fingers casually thrum against the table, it’s all effortlessly cool. But before you can linger on him too long, a voice cuts through the room, sharp and high-pitched enough to make your teeth ache. 

The girl in front of you is practically vibrating, her hands shaking as she clutches her phone to her chest like it’s a lifeline. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she whispers to her friend, barely able to hold it together. “What if I say something dumb? What if they laugh at me? What if Az doesn’t even look at me? I have to tell him how much I—”

It’s the way she says Az—not like she’s just a fan, but like she’s personally on a nickname basis with him—that makes your eye twitch. You don’t want to judge, but fuck, could people just enjoy things without this level of intensity? She’s decked out in enough Wings of Illyria merch to make you wonder if she owns anything that isn’t branded. Her denim jacket is practically a billboard for the band, from the patches to the pins to the shirts she’s stacked under it, all so bright and loud it’s almost cartoonish. She looks exactly like the kind of people you’ve seen mocked in those “fan stereotype” posts, and it grates on you more than it should.

You bite back a sigh, trying to ignore the discomfort gnawing at your nerves. It’s not her fault, right? People can like things however they want. But as you stand there, you can’t shake the tightness in your chest, the buzz of unease you’ve been carrying all day. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night—too busy running through every possible scenario, obsessing over the idea that maybe, just maybe, you’d misinterpreted the song. What if it wasn’t about you at all? What if you’d been foolish to even think it was? You’d spent so much time convincing yourself this was the right thing to do, that you could handle whatever confrontation came with it. But now, with the weight of it all on your shoulders, doubts have started to creep in. 

To each their own, you remind yourself, trying to shake the jittery feeling in your stomach. 

The line inches forward, and you shuffle along with it, caught between your own nerves and the chaos around you. Every second stretches and the girl ahead of you is still whispering furiously to her friend about all the reasons this moment is life-changing for her. You try to tune it out, focusing instead on the distant hum of the music overhead, and the faint shuffle of feet, the air heavy with anticipation.

And then, it’s your turn. 

Cassian is the first to notice you, his smile broad and infectious, like he’s genuinely thrilled to meet every single person who steps up to the booth. “Hey!” he greets warmly, his voice loud enough to carry over the din. “You excited for the show?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you reply, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”

Cassian beams like you’ve just made his night. “That’s what I like to hear! First time seeing us live?”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Second. Saw you guys in Orlando last year.”

“No shit?” he says, leaning forward slightly. “That was a great crowd. One of the best on that leg of the tour. You catch the whole set?

“Most of it,” you admit. “I got stuck in traffic and missed the first couple of songs.”

Rhysand, who’s been quietly observing, chuckles at that. “Typical,” he says, his voice smooth and amused. “Traffic in that city is practically a right of passage.”

“Right?” you say, laughing despite yourself. “I swear I left two hours early and still barely made it in time for ‘Bloodlines.’”

Cassian gives you a mock sympathetic look. “Tragic. That’s one of my favorites to play live.”

“It’s a good one,” you say, your nerves easing just a little. You glance between the two of them, noting how Rhys’s sharp gaze is fixed on you like he can tell there’s another reason you’re here. 

“So,” Rhys says, tilting his head slightly. “What’s your favorite track?”

How the hell—

“I mean, the whole album is great,” you say, “but ‘Sear My Skin’ has been on repeat lately.”

It’s a calculated choice, and you don’t miss the quirk of Azriel’s brow in your peripheral. 

“Interesting pick,” Rhys says, his smirk widening. “That one’s been causing a bit of a stir lately.”

Cassian chuckles. “Yeah, Az really knocked it out of the park with that one.”

And there it is—the perfect segue. You glance past them, finally letting your gaze settle on Azriel, who’s been silent this whole time. 

He’s leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable as his dark eyes meet yours. For a second, the noise of the room seems to fade, and you realize your heart is pounding in your chest, 

“Azriel,” you say, his name coming out steadier than you expected. “Can I ask you something?”

He quirks that brow again, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “You just did.”

Cassian groans dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Come on, man. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be,” he mutters.

Azriel ignores him, his gaze still fixed on you. “What’s the question?”

You take a breath, forcing yourself to hold his stare. “The song—’Sear My Skin.’ Is it about me?”

Rhysand doesn’t bother hiding his laughter, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a show. Cassian’s drink nearly slips out of his hand, and he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, Oh, shit.

Azriel doesn’t react immediately. He just stares at you, his expression unreadable, until the silence stretches so thin you think it might snap. 

“Who are you?” he asks finally, his tone maddeningly calm. 

You blink, thrown off by the audacity of the question. “You seriously don’t remember me?”

He leans back, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t remember half the women I sleep with.” Cassian chokes on his drink, Rhysand’s grin stretching wide enough to show teeth, but you’re not about to let Azriel off that easily. 

“Pressed against the door, your lips trace the ache?” You quote the line pointedly, crossing your arms as you glare at him. The memory rushes back—how he’d tasted on your tongue, how his hands had threaded through your hair before all hell broke loose. “Sound familiar?”

“It’s not that deep,” Azriel replies, his tone dismissive, though his gaze sharpens ever so slightly. 

“Really?” you counter, your tone dripping with incredulity. “Right before I finish, your body’s all I feel, breathed in your ear ‘you feel too good to be real.’” Your voice rises, your chest tightening as the words leave your mouth. “You literally said that to me while you were balls deep in me against a wall.”

Azriel freezes, his lips parting slightly as a faint flicker of surprise breaks through his carefully guarded expression. For a split second, it’s almost satisfying. 

Cassian’s reaction is anything but subtle. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor as he doubles over in laughter, nearly spilling his drink again. He gasps, pounding the table. “Yo, what the fuck?!”

Rhysand isn’t fairing much better, his laughter barely contained as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his amusement still sharp but with a more controlled edge than Cassian’s, to his credit.

Azriel’s jaw tightens, and he finally breaks eye contact, glancing down at the table. “Okay,” he mutters, the word barely audible over the laughter. “Maybe it’s a little about you.”

Cassian claps a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to muffle another loud “Yo!” Rhysand smirks, watching the two of you closely. 

But you shake your head, not about to let him off with just that. “A little? Really? You practically narrated the whole thing—I deserve royalties.”

Azriel raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response. “Royalties?” he repeats, half-laughing, but still avoiding eye contact.

Before he can properly respond, a security guard steps forward, tilting their head toward the door, a silent gesture that your time is up. 

You roll your eyes but shoot Azriel a teasing smile. “Guess I’m out of time for royalties. But I’ll be expecting them in the mail.”

As the security guard ushers you forward, Rhysand speaks up. “Well, nice to meet you, Sear My Skin,” he says, voice dripping with humor. 

You grin back at him, a little cheeky. “My name—”

“It’s (y/n),” Azriel interrupts, dragging a hand over his face as he speaks, his tone casual but something darker in his gaze that would’ve stopped you in your tracks if not for the man guiding you away.

You blink at him, and can’t help the smile blooming on your face. He remembered you. Really remembered you. 

Just as you’re about to take another step toward the exit, Cassian shouts from behind you, “Wait, wait, wait!” His voice is a mix of urgency and excitement. 

You turn around, confused, as Cassian's already talking to someone behind the merch table. The team member nods, already moving to grab something and hand it over to you. Cassian looks at you with that mischievous grin you’re so used to seeing on video. “We’ll set you up for the show. Don’t leave without saying hi to us again, yeah?”

You look at the woman heading your way and take the slip she hands you, your heart stopping when you read the words Backstage Pass. You’re not sure what’s happening, but the thrill of it courses through you. “Uh—Yeah, thank you?”

“Anytime, princess,” Cassian says with a wink, leaning back in his chair as he makes a show of lounging. 

You glance at Azriel one last time before being nudged along by the guard. He looks back at you for a moment, unreadable as ever, but there’s something in his eyes. But he says nothing, and it’s enough to make your chest tighten, a mix of anticipation and confusion bubbling in your stomach. 

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / wings / 238 words / a little flirty exchange during wimbledon

“Could you ask your friend to behave?” Regulus whispered in Sirius’ ear as he watched James swallow a plate of wings at the main court of fucking Wimbledon. Sirius didn’t even react, he was clearly extremely busy texting his boyfriend, who was getting them all drinks. 

“I can hear you,” James muttered with a mouth full, his eyes fixed on the food he was devouring. 

“Eavesdropping as well as talking with your mouth full are also bad-manners, Potter.” Regulus paused his scolding to hand James a napkin. “I’ve met your mother and I'm certain she taught you better than that.”

James discarded the napkin and started licking his fingers, “Wow! Already meeting the parents? You like to go fast, don’t you?”

Regulus didn’t even register he was being spoken to; he couldn’t. His eyes were stuck on the way James’ lips and tongue sucked one last finger. 

“Staring is not polite either, Regulus.” Oh. He wanted to hear his name come out of James’ mouth over and over again. 

“I wasn’t staring,” Regulus scoffed. 

“Your blush is saying otherwise, love.” Now that was something Regulus couldn’t wait to hear again. 

“Already calling me pet names?” 

James lit up at the response. He leaned in closer and whispered, “I’ll call you anything you want me to, Regulus.”

For the rest of the match, all Regulus could think of was James' lips, his fingers, his voice, and, oh, his eyes.

[abusivelittlebunny]

Your reblog of the vintage F1 photos… one of those labels around the neck of an omega……..

This has been in my inbox for a while and couldn't wait to polish my little warm-up Logan Sargeant for it bc he was the one that immediately popped into my mind when i read it♡ in my omegaverse au Logan has to drop out mid-season because a certain nasty dog of an alpha knocks him up and effectively takes his seat for the next season ....

[mossy-box]

[fireheartpages]

survived | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter five. series masterlist summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. when you catch his attention and bond a conundrum of a dragon, you finally feel like you can catch your breath. until your signet develops. word count: 2.4k notes: second person pov, reader uses she/her pronouns, has a dirty dancing nickname and a last name. this one’s kinda heavy! mentions of struggling with self worth and trauma, talks about death and an allusion to suicide. if you hear someone buzzing with excitement, it's just me, don't worry! this is the idea i had stuck in my head, for quite a few reasons, and i wanted so badly to get it out on page and now its in my hands ah. not even kidding when i say this concept was eating me alive form the inside out. this feels like the closing chapter, so tbh idk if im gonna write anything more. if i come up with something, or anyone has any requests, i’ll get my pen to page tho :)

You were a good student. A great one, even.

You were top of most classes, feeling like you needed to prove something, and if you weren’t top, one of your friends were, and you were right behind them. And it was true—you were an incredible rider. You could stand on Shocair’s back, and shift your weight and she would bank with the direction. You’d taken up archery, another thing you excelled at. Your aim could use some improvement, but you were getting better. A little more practice, and you could consider yourself a decent shot. And despite your signet not developing yet, you were perfecting your smaller magics. And at sparring—

At sparring, you were okay. Kind of.

You could hold your own, and you were quick. Fast feet and good reflexes, but it was as if you didn’t know how to use those skills.

You were not top of challenges, to say the least.

“Yield!” you gasp, face to the mat as a boy from Second Wing attempts to crush your windpipe. “I yield!”

He lets up, laughing at you, and you roll onto your back, catching your breath. You blink a few times, willing the spots from your vision, but it gets darker and—

No, there’s just someone standing over you.

“Hi, Bodhi,” you rasp up to him.

“Hi, Baby,” he says, extending a hand.

“Hi.” You’re panting a little, but at least your vision is focusing.

“That was…”

“Pathetic. I know.” You wipe the sweat from your forehead and a tear from your eye as your wrist gives protest. You probably smashed it with a bad punch.

“I was not going to say that,” he says, grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. That corner of his lips was one of your favorite things at Basgiath.

“It’s okay,” you say. “At least I’m aware of it.”

“I can help,” he says, a little too quick to be casual, but you don’t mind. It makes you smile.

Your brows raise. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He drops your hand, and only then did you realize he was still holding it. “We can practice sparring.”

“You just… want to help me?” You furrow your brow. “Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Uh—” He falters. “If you teach me how to ride like you do, I’ll teach you how to spar.”

You nod slowly. “Sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you say, fighting a losing battle with your smile. His eyes were dancing. “When do we start?”

“Now.” He offers you a hand, and leads you over to an empty mat.

“You’re quick, and you’re smart, and when you win, it’s by outsmarting your opponent,” he says over his shoulder, coming to stand in the middle of the mat. He removes his daggers, tossing them on the floor beside the mat and leaving one strapped to his arm. He spins to face you. “Easy money.” He taps his arm where the remaining dagger sits. “Take it from me.”

You shake your head. “Okay.”

You lunge, going for his feet, and he jumps, landing and taking a knee that knocks your own until you’re kneeling, and he’s on top of you, pressing you to the floor. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest against your back, his breath on the side of your face.

“Did I say easy?” he teases.

“You dick—” You struggle, but it’s futile. He lays there for a beat longer, pinning you with his body weight, and you have a flash of an image in your mind, him on top of you, in between your hips—

“Focus.” It's Shocair. Your next exhale is a thanks.

He relents, standing up, offering you a hand, and you’re barely on your feet again before he twists it behind you.

“Take me down,” he said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You—you falter. Fuck. This guy is distracting.

He wrenches your arm away, pushing you away from him, and you’re helpless as you step out and back into him. He pulls you close, and there’s no viciousness in it, no mirth—he’s near gentle as he wraps an arm around you, over your neck, and his other hand disables your free one. He kicks the back of your knee again and beings you both down until you’re kneeling.

“What do you do now, Baby?” It’s your name, but it’s so obviously not, and he’s grinning. This asshole is kicking your ass without even trying and he’s still. Fucking. Grinning.

Gods, you suck at this.

No, actually, fuck this.

You twist your neck so you’re nose to nose with him—kinda, you have to look up to see his face, and he’s already looking down at you. You suck in a breath, looking at his lips. His grip loosens.

Your twist, dragging your joined hands behind you until you’re facing him and you let your body weight fall back. He lands on top of you, right as you knee him in the balls.

He doubles over with a gasp, and you take the opportunity to head butt him. You hear the impact, and you shove him off of you. You jump up, snatching the dagger from his arm band.

“I did it!” you shout, victorious.

“That’s my girl,” Shocair sends down the bond with a beat of pride.

Bodhi rolls over, clutching his face, and you offer him a hand. He takes it, and it takes more strength than it should to get him standing. You rub your forehead where you had hit him, a little sore. This man is pure muscle, even in his face.

He takes his hand away, and it’s bloody. Your eyes widen, a gasp slipping from you.

“Oh my gods. I’m so sorry!” You rush to him, hands cradling the side of your face.

“Nah,” he says, grinning even now. “All’s fair in love and war.”

Your stomach clenches at the words. “Please tell me I didn’t break your nose.”

He shakes his head. “I think the bleeding’s stopping, so, no, not broken.” He tips his head back.

“No, wait,” you say, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Forward, or else all the blood is gonna end up in your stomach.”

Bodhi flinches. “I don’t have anything to stop the bleeding.”

You glance around frantically, looking for something, anything, before landing on your own t-shirt. You grasp Bodhi’s dagger—now yours, by the laws of the codex—in your hand and rip a band of it, cropping it to your navel before handing the black fabric to him. He takes it and presses it to his nose.

“You did not have to do that,” he says, words muffled.

“I broke your nose. Yes, I did.” You gently pull his hand away, examining his face, cradling his jaw with one hand. Besides being beautiful and a bit red, and smeared with blood, you didn’t see any bruising.

His eyes trace your expression, landing on your lips, and he just… stares. And stares.

“I think you’re okay,” you say softly.

“I know I am.” He’s grinning again, invisible string tugging that corner up. Your hands are on his face, and this is your chance—you run your thumb along his lips as if you could smooth out his smile—but you don’t want to. The way it tilts to one side is quite possibly your favorite thing about him.

“You have a bruise forming.” His thumb comes up, brushing the skin of your temple—presumably from where you had nearly broken his nose.

“It’s your snout,” you whisper.

"Hey." His grin softens, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the bruise.

“Shit,” he says, reaching up and wiping the cloth over it. “Sorry, blood.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of you as your heart rate kicks up again. And he just stares at you again, like his gaze is stuck.

“I love your laugh,” he says, like a secret, like it’s a whispered admission.

“Your smile,” you responded, equally as quiet, and suddenly you’re little kids at a sleepover, sharing secrets by candlelight, “it’s my favorite thing about you.”

That just widened his grin, and you let your ambitions run free, running your thumb over his bottom lip, cleaning off the blood that had spilled as you beam back at him.

He’s looking at your lips, and he leans in.

Someone drops a weight across the gym, and it makes you jump, creating space between the two of you, and there’s some mix of longing and disappointment in his eyes as you stop back.

“I should go,” you say. “Sorry. About your nose.”

“Sorry about your head,” he says.

You’re walking away, grabbing your flight jacket when he calls, “Tomorrow? Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Let’s go flying tomorrow evening,” you say over your shoulder. “I have a thing or two to show you.”

“I’ll be an eager student!” he says, and you smile all the way back to your dorm.

You let a mender fix the blossoming bruise on your temple when your vanity wins out. The next morning, Shocair has some choice words for you, all of which you ignore, in favor of playing the almost kiss over and over again in your head.

(You don’t even bother to block you out, and it’s something like excitement, or contentment that fills your chest every time you think about how he was looking at you, and you realize it wasn’t your emotions at all.)

You’re sitting at the table in the library, next to Violet and Rhiannon as you comb over another textbook on signets. You and Violet had taken to sharing notes you find, seeing if you can figure out how to get your signets to develop. Rhi is practically doing Violet's physics homework for her.

Dain is here, for some reason, probably because he’s panting after Violet—and everyone can see it. You’re pretty sure this is some attempt to get back in her good graces. She’s having none of it. The four of you are sitting in silence.

You’re just on a rather interesting part about the reflection of a signet on the rider when you hear,

“I just don’t get it.”

You turn, a little unable to suppress the way your nose scrunches up at Dain’s voice. “What did you just say to me?”

Dain looks at you, confused. “What?”

“Did you not—”

“Hush.” That was Shocair.

“Thought I heard something,” you say, the panic down the bond making you heed the warning. “Sorry, never mind.”

The girls don’t even spare you a second glance, just go back to the work in front of them.

“New subtleties must be taken into account when we investigate causality in quantum mechanics and relativistic quantum field theory in particular. In those two theories, causality—” It’s Rhi’s voice, and you look up, wondering why she’s reading aloud, but—

Her lips aren’t moving.

“Despite these subtleties, causality remains an important and valid concept in—”

“Shocair,” you send down the bond.

“Take a deep breath,” she says into your mind.

You do as told.

“Stretch, like you’re tired.”

You again do as she tells you, throwing in a fake-stifled yawn as you do so.

“Get your things and come to the flight field. Now. Make up an excuse.”

“I’m getting tried,” you say, your pulse kicking up.

All three sets of eyes turn to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

“Should I—”

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Dain asks.

“No,” you say, a little too quick. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“That was weird.”

���I hope she’s okay.”

“Does she—”

You clamp your eyes shut, and you try your best not to run from the room.

“Shocair.”

“Get here. Now.”

“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” you send to her, panic rising in your throat.

“Run.”

You do so, taking off and making it to the flight field in mere minutes.

“Shocair!” you shout.

She’s in front of you, navy scales glittering in the morning light. She wordlessly extends a leg to you, and you climb on, willing tears not to fall.

She takes off, and you’re not even sure where you’re going. She just flies, and you don’t unseat. Don’t stand, don’t ride the wind as if you were the one with wings. Just grip her pommel for dear life until she lands on a cliff side, leg extended for you to dismount.

You step off, and there isn’t a soul around you. The cliffs almost remind you of home. There’s no ocean at their base, but the view is beautiful nonetheless.

Did she bring you here so you could end it yourself, before anyone else has the chance to? To give you the dignity of choosing your own death?

“Tell me this isn’t my signet,” you say, a whisper on the wind, and you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn, Shocair’s head is lowered, her eyes lidded as the first tear falls. She blinks slowly, and it’s like an apology as she touches the tip of her nose to the center of your chest.

“Tell me I’m not an inntinnsic,” you plead, as if you could ask the gods themselves to change it.

Shocair says nothing, just nuzzles against your chest.

“I survived,” you say. It comes out a sob. “I survived the rebellion. I survived my father, and fleeing to the other side of the province. I survived parapet, and the Gauntlet, and Threshing, and every challenge I’ve been faced with—all of it. I have survived, and my own mind is going to be what kills me?”

“I will protect you.”

“You can’t protect me from the law!” You’re crying in earnest now, and you’re pretty sure this sort of weakness is what would prompt another dragon to kill their rider, but Shocair is looking at you with her own mix of worry and rage—and something akin to an apology. “They’ll find out! And if they don’t, what am I supposed to do? Pretend like I never developed a signet, and it just never affects me?”

She blinks, and shifts until your palm lays flat against her nose, like she had at Threshing. When she’d chosen you.

“I chose you for your mind,” she says, repeating those words—the ones from that day.

You sink to your knees, tears streaming down your face. Shocair settles into the grass in front of you, and you bend until your temple is touching her nose. Sobs wrack your body, and you can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter. The world had stopped spinning, anyway.

This was it. This was the end. There was no surviving this.