#my siblings are entirely unimpressed and used to it

[noras-dc-shenanigans]

Adoption | Learn

“So let me get this straight.”

Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.

“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”

If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.

“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”

A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.

After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,

“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”

… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.

Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.

Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.

So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.

But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.

At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.

The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.

‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’

Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.

Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.

[theosang3ls]

Being childhood Best Friends with Mattheo Riddle

female!reader

warnings: mentions of smoking, swearing, no proofreading has been done

A/N: those are just a few scenarios that popped up in my head lol! Also excuse any Grammatical errors English is not my first language! Enjoy!

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You had grown up side by side, your lives intertwining from the moment you took your first steps. From scraped knees to shared secrets, there was never a time when he wasn’t by your side. And when you both arrived at Hogwarts, that bond only deepened—your friendship solidifying into something unshakable, something that felt less like companionship and more like the undeniable connection of siblings.

You tutored him nearly every day, though, it felt less like a responsibility and more like an excuse to invade each other’s dorms. It had become a routine—one that involved as much bickering as it did actual studying. The moment you stepped into Mattheo’s room, a pungent stench assaulted your senses like a physical blow. You recoiled, gagging dramatically as you waved a hand in front of your face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! What is that smell?!” you demanded, your voice climbing an octave in sheer horror. “It’s like a possum farted and then died in here!” Pinching your nose shut, you turned to glare at him, only to find Mattheo lounging on his bed with an infuriating lack of concern. His damp curls clung to his forehead, his Quidditch gear still clinging to him like he’d just walked off the field. “Hey! I just got back from practice, take it easy,” he defended, stretching lazily. “Take it easy?” you repeated, scandalized. “I’m going to pass out!” You dramatically dropped your books onto his bed, casting a look of sheer betrayal in his direction. Then, as if the realization hit you like a second wave of the stench, you squinted at him suspiciously. “Wait—don’t you finish practice forty minutes ago?” Mattheo shrugged, entirely too casual for someone currently turning his dorm into a biohazard zone. “Stayed a little longer after we were done,” he said nonchalantly. You inhaled sharply through your nose—big mistake. A fresh wave of pure, unfiltered death hit you square in the face. “Oh, Merlin—Dude, use some deodorant before I die in here!” You threw a pillow at him for good measure, but he only laughed, clearly enjoying your suffering.

“Mattheo, I swear to Salazar himself, if you try to set me up with Nott one more time, I will personally castrate you.” You shot him a withering glare as you dropped onto the bench beside him in the Great Hall, stabbing a piece of toast with unnecessary aggression. Mattheo, entirely unfazed—as always—leaned back against the table with a smug grin. “Oh, come on,” he drawled, tossing a grape into his mouth like this was the most casual conversation in the world. “You two would make a perfect couple. You have so much in common.” You groaned, letting your head fall dramatically onto the table for a brief second before lifting it to glare at him. For months now, Mattheo had made it his personal mission to shove you and his best friend, Theodore Nott, together. It was as if he thought playing matchmaker was his divine purpose. “Name one thing we have in common,” you challenged, narrowing your eyes. You knew damn well he wouldn’t have a solid answer—but then again, Mattheo never backed down from a debate. Without missing a beat, he grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You both smoke,” he announced, as if he’d just delivered the most compelling argument in history. You blinked at him, unimpressed. “That’s your reasoning?” A disbelieving chuckle left your lips as you shook your head. “You’re unbelievable.” Mattheo merely smirked, clearly pleased with himself, while you shoved his shoulder in exasperation.

After a long day packed with endless tasks, all you wanted was to collapse onto your bed and let sleep take you. Your body felt heavy with exhaustion as you trudged into your dorm, already half-ready to pass out. But the moment you stepped inside, your plans for peace and quiet were completely shattered. There, sprawled across your bed like he owned the place, was Mattheo. A cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, wisps of smoke curling toward the ceiling. His boots were still on—on your sheets, no less—and he looked far too comfortable for someone who had his own dorm. “Oh, come on, man!” you groaned, rubbing your temples as you walked over to your desk, dropping your bag with a heavy thud. “You have your own bed. In your own dorm. Why are you always in mine?” Mattheo barely glanced up, exhaling a slow stream of smoke like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed. “Yours is cozier,” he said with a casual shrug, as if that justified trespassing. Rolling your eyes, you reached for the small bag of cookies you’d left on your desk earlier—only to grab at empty air. You froze. Slowly, you turned, already knowing the answer but still daring to ask, “Where are the cookies I left here?” Mattheo’s guilty expression was immediate. He stiffened, his cigarette pausing midair as he gave you the most unconvincing, sheepish smile. The way he raised his shoulders slightly—an innocent, who me? gesture—only made him look more suspicious. “Mattheo,” you said, voice dangerously low, “I swear to God.” He let out a nervous chuckle, clearly aware of the impending consequences.“You’re a dead man, Riddle.” Mattheo barely had time to react before you launched a pillow straight at his head.

“Hey, wanna hang out tonight?” Mattheo’s voice rang out as he effortlessly fell into step beside you, his usual lazy grin plastered across his face. You barely spared him a glance, too focused on making it to your next class on time. “Sorry, can’t,” you said with an apologetic smile. “I’m going on a date with Cedric.”For a moment, Mattheo just stared at you. Then, placing a hand over his heart like he’d just received the most devastating news, he gasped dramatically. “Aww, how romantic—I think I’m gonna puke.” His voice dripped with mock excitement, and he even threw in a fake gag for extra effect. You stopped in your tracks to glare at him. “Seriously? Is this because I didn’t go on a date with Theodore?” Mattheo scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not entirely.” You let out an exaggerated sigh, already knowing where this was going. He pointed a finger at you accusingly. “But—you’re going out with the enemy! That’s number one betrayal right there!” “Oh my God, you are so dramatic,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you resumed walking. Mattheo, however, was not finished. “Dramatic?” he repeated, his voice laced with faux offense. “If I was really dramatic, pretty boy would be staring at the ground from a different direction right now.” His tone was far too casual for the sheer level of violence he was suggesting. You shot him an unimpressed look. “He’s actually really nice!” you defended, crossing your arms. Mattheo let out a loud, mocking sigh. “Ohhh, pretty boy’s nice,” he repeated in a high-pitched voice, dramatically fluttering his lashes as he mimicked you. Before he could finish his performance, your notebook made direct contact with the back of his head. “Cut it out, Mat,” you huffed. He simply chuckled, rubbing the spot where you’d hit him, clearly pleased with himself despite the assault.

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A/N: I love love love Mattheo, he’s so iconic!!!

!Reblogs and Likes are highly appreciated¡

masterlist

Until next time lovelies…💋

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 18 - "We can't do this on our own."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight mentions of DannyXBruce ship

A/N: Inspired by the comments and Reblogs of Prompt 17. I advise to read that one first before reading this, also posting this early because I won't have the time to do that tomorrow. Credits for inspiring this continuation go to @charlietheepic7 and @noxcheshire

After the babysitting disaster Dick had sworn Tim and Damian into secrecy about. The bat-sibling had quickly warmed up to the phantom children and invited them several more times to visit them at the manor. Damian had even doubled his efforts in getting along with them, still believing they were his half siblings, despite Bruce having tried to explain to them in private that this wasn't the case.

Of course that didn't mean that Damian wasn't butting heads with them at all, in fact they were only sitting together like this now because Damian and Dan had gotten into a fight about whether or not Phantom was an adequate partner for Bruce. Dan appeared to have taken offense to that in some form and declared that Bruce was the one not suited to be with his Mom.

The fight ended with Dani, five years old little girl Dani, kicking down both Damian and her own brother, before proceeding to sit on Dan while loudly yelling that he was risking their entire plan of setting up their Mom with Uncle Bruce so Auntie Valerie would stop trying to be their Step Mom. Which brought them back to their current situation of the five of them sitting together in the main hang out room.

Dan grumbled inaudible, arms crossed and glaring at the bat children assembled before him. Dani giggled, nudging her big brother's leg. "Don't go nonverbal now!"

"Nonverbal?" Dick couldn't help but question, causing Dan to snarl at him while Dani still smiled very brightly at them.

"Big Brother sometimes only talks in growls and snarls. Auntie Jazz said it's got something to do with what he's been through. Mom says big brother isn't socialized enough yet." The boy only growled, glaring at them while he pulled the little girl into a hug and made her sit between his legs, making Dani giggle once more grinning bridely. The two Phantom children were seated on a loveseat together now in the general hang out room of Wayne Manor. Dick, Tim and Damian sat across from them on the couch.

The bat kids exchanged glances. Bruce can try as he might, there was no hiding the relation he had with the Phantom kids. There were too many things that added to the fact that the kids had to be Damians half siblings.

Damian looked rather disgruntled, arms also crossed as he turned to return Dan's glare with the same intensity. "Father, may have been trying to hide you from us but his attempts at gaining Nightingale favor are just as pathetic as the excuses he has been giving us in regards to our relation."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "I was not even aware that Bruce tried to flirt with Phantom at all."

Dick patted Tims shoulder in mock condolence. "I have seen the Phantom-Batman dynamic since my days as Robin… It was horrible and painful to watch. Jason can attest to that."

"Mom is as dense as a neutron star." Dan muttered looking away from them.

As if realizing something Dani blinked a couple of times before staring wide eyed at Dick and pointing with one hand at him. "You're the menace Robin! You're the one that asked Superman to throw you high into the air so you could do flips! Mom even said that you asked him once if he could phase you halfway through a wall or turn you invisible to scare your rogues!"

Both Tim and Damian stared at their older brother unimpressed.

"I guess that did happen. Well back to topic!" Dick tried to deflect which sort of worked. But more because Tim got curious about something.

"I don't get how you guys know about us but we didn't know about you two at all. Phantom never mentioned either of you before, not even when he came to visit as Danny. Before we were told about him being Phantom." Tim muttered, completely ignoring Dick as he turned his attention to the two kids. The two children in turn exchanged knowing looks.

"Mom and Auntie Jazz were worried that big brother would get PTSD seeing the Justice League. That's why Uncle Bruce and Superman are the only ones who really knew about us." Dani explained looking up at her older brother who suddenly sported a feral grin, showing off suddenly very sharp appearing teeth. "Though Superman learning about us was more a spur of the moment than intentional telling him."

"Mom was so mad at him." Dan mentioned his sharp teeth glinting as he exchanged a feral look with his sister. It sent a shiver down the batkids' back, making them remember that the kid mentioned he had apparently murdered all of them before. The image of little ten years old Dan standing in a sea of blue fire and laughing like a maniac crossed their minds for a brief moment before they pushed the memories of the babysitting disaster into the depths of their minds again. "He would have beat him up if Uncle Bruce didn't stop him. Instead Mom put Supes through the lecture of a lifetime using us as his how-it's-supposed-to-be example."

"Oh and we met big bro J when Frostbite helped with his treatment!" Dani added clapping her hands together all cutely while her brother on the other hand ended up growling. "He still owns me a spar."

"That… explains nothing." Tim retorted, eyes narrowed at the two kids who only shrugged refusing to explain any more than they had.

Damian meanwhile ended up glaring at nothing as he crossed his arms muttering something about punishing Todd for having been in cahoots with his father and keeping his younger siblings from him. Dick smiled, their youngest apparently really like the thought of having two younger siblings of his own now.

"Can we please get back to topic? About these two trying to set up Danny and Bruce?" Dick tried once more, he really wanted to know more about this whole 'we attempted to set our mom up with Bruce' deal the two kids had going on.

"What is there to question, Richard? My half siblings appear to want for my father and their mother to be together." Damian huffed with his attention being on his eldest brother he did not notice the confused look Dani gave the older boy before looking at her own brother only for Dan to sport a mix of a feral and mischievous grin the girl soon returned when a look of understanding crossed her face briefly.

"So are you guys going to help?" Dani looked at them with big baby blue and pleading eyes. Dan gave them a red eyed glare as if daring them to disagree with his sister. "As big brother said Mom is a neutron star! We can't do this on our own. But now that you guys know you can help!"

The three bat-kids exchanged a look, though it appeared as if Damian had already made a decision on that matter the moment he learned that Phantom was the mother of his half siblings. Dick grinned, pulling out his phone. "If we are going to do this then I am calling in the cavalry."

In other words Dick was going to call in all their siblings as back up. They had been discussing making Phantom, aka Danny Nightingale, a more permanent fixture in their lives before after he had helped Jason. Now they had even more reason to do so with two baby siblings added into their lot.

[fanfictionstuff]

may i request a nsfw fic with (afab) demon! reader x amaimon :3 maybe as a pt 2 to the last demon reader x amaimon fic?

I was so excited to see him today in the new episode that I kind of got carried away with this fic and extended it by over 2000 words. LMAO.

4999 words.

I love him so much. He's the new wallpaper on my mac lmao

Rin raises an eyebrow while observing you smile at your phone. Although he invited you to join him and the other exorcist students, you’ve spent the entire time grinning at your device like an idiot. “Who are you texting?” he asks.

“A friend.”

"The only friends you have are at this table," Rin says flatly.

“That’s not true!”

The pink-haired teenager sitting across from you leans in with a playful grin, saying, “I bet it’s a guy~.”

“Shut up, Shima!” You snap, kicking him under the table.

A shocked look crosses Rin’s face. “A guy? Are you really talking to a guy?” He quickly grabs the phone from your hand and holds it out of reach. “Rin! Give me back the phone.”

“No, I have to make sure he respects my sister,” he insists, trying to unlock the phone while keeping it just out of your reach.

Yukio shakes his head at his siblings’ behavior. “You need to be more respectful to our older sister." He takes the phone from Rin and hands it back to you. You receive another text as soon as the phone is back in your hands.

That sounds boring. Come play with me instead.

You bite your lower lip as you read the text. Spending time with your friends isn’t boring; however, spending time with the demon king does sound more appealing at the moment. But if you leave now, Rin will realize something is up and start stalking you or something.

Since meeting the demon king a few months ago, he’s become a staple in your life. Even if Rin swears, he was trying to kill him and almost killed Shiemi. You were there during the camping trip; you didn’t see him trying to kill Shiemi, just using her to pull Rin out, and it worked. Also, you’re aware Amaimon isn’t allowed to kill Rin. That night, both you and Rin were exposed as demons. The young exorcists surprisingly accepted you nearly right away, even while still feeling weary of Rin.

You had thought that Rin had exorcised him. Therefore, when he showed up on your sofa two weeks later, complaining that you took too long to return home, you were overwhelmed with feelings and accidentally kissed him. However, he didn’t let you pull away to apologize. Instead, he leaned in when you attempted to part, preventing you from disconnecting from his lips.

Wait at my apartment; I’ll be home in about an hour.

No.  

No?! What do you mean ‘no’?  

His silence makes you a bit anxious. You look down at your plate, noticing only a few bites remaining. You hurriedly finish, trying not to make it too obvious that you want to leave the restaurant quickly. It seems to fool everyone except Rin, and Yukio from the look he gives you as you stand, attempting to walk off. “I just remembered I have something important to complete. I’m sorry to leave a bit early.” The others nod, telling you goodbye with Shiemi, even trying to make plans for the next time you get to hang out.

Rin is on your heels as you leave the restaurant. “_____, where are you going? Why are you suddenly busy? Are you actually talking to a guy?” He grills you as he falls into step beside you. “Rin, I’ve got something I have to complete.”

“What is it.”

“It’s personal.”

“Fine, but if you have a boyfriend, you know you have to introduce us, right? I need to make sure he’s a good person.”

You pause, giving him an unimpressed look while tugging on his tail. “I don’t have to do anything, Rin.”

“Ow! That hurts!”

You pull a few more times before letting it go. "Quit making noise and return to the restaurant. Unless you want Shima to make a move on Shiemi since you’re too scared to ask her out yourself.”

Rin wraps his tail around himself protectively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Fine, but I will find out who.” he warns before walking away.

You’re walking past a small alley when someone unexpectedly grabs your wrist, yanking you into their embrace. The rich, earthy scent of nature envelops you, instantly identifying the figure behind you. As you realize it’s Amaimon, tension releases from your body, and you relax in his arms. “Amaimon, what are you doing? I told you to wait at my apartment.” His hold tightens, simmering with frustration, as he growls softly in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Why are you touching another demon’s tail?” Possessiveness laces his words, turning them into a hiss of jealousy, while his hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers exploring as they delicately grasp your tail, a gesture both tender and fervently protective. “Doing this in front of me, you must want me to kill your brother.”

“What are you talking about?”

Amaimon sighs, continuing to run his fingers along your tail. “Is this because you were raised by a human that you’re unaware?” He questions, continuing his actions. “Does it feel good?” The longer he touches it, the more sensitive it feels. “Y-yeah.” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks. “No other man should see or touch you like this and never touch another demon like this.” He warns, and you begin to realize demons’ tails aren’t as innocent as you initially imagined. 

"Wait, Amaimon, what do you mean by 'never touch another demon like this'?" Your voice trembles slightly as you question him; other than kisses here and there, he’s never said anything about a relationship. Sure, you want one, but you weren’t going to expect a demon king to want something serious with you. 

Amaimon leans in even closer, his warm breath tickling your skin as he murmurs, "You belong to me." His voice is low and possessive. 

“Wait, wait.” You pull away from him completely. “Belong to you? Since when?” As you speak, your tail slips back under your shirt. “We aren’t in a relationship, and you haven’t even confirmed whether or not you want to date me.” 

His golden eyes lock onto yours; the possessive expression quickly turns blank. “What?” 

“What do you mean by 'what'? You haven't even officially asked me out or anything.” Sure, you don't have much experience in relationships, but this feels more like friends who occasionally kiss. It's almost like you're friends with benefits without taking it too far, right? 

He just stands in front of you, staring for another minute before turning to walk away. 

You stare at the wall, unsure what to do—confused by his reaction. Did he think you two were in a relationship? Had you just been an idiot all this time and didn’t realize your friendship had morphed into a romantic relationship? Guess I messed that up. 

——-

Mephisto observes his brother with curiosity. Just moments ago, Amaimon had burst into his office, appearing unusually annoyed. Initially, Mephisto thought it might involve Rin. When asked, Amaimon simply shook his head, remaining tight-lipped about what was bothering him. 

“Amaimon, sit down and tell me what’s wrong. I’m a busy man, you know.” 

He doesn’t sit, but he does pause and turns to look at his older brother. “I’ve been courting her for weeks now, and she’s been receptive.” 

“What?” Mephisto’s eyes widen; this is the first he’s heard Amaimon has taken an interest in someone. Let alone the fact he’s interested enough he’s courting her. “Who have you been courting?” 

“You told me I should check online if I had questions about Assiah. It indicated that courting rituals in Assiah include having conversations, texting, giving gifts, physical affection, and taking trips together." He begins pacing again as he speaks. “I’ve done all of these things. So why did she say I haven’t been courting her?” 

“Have you been courting a human?”

“No.” 

“So, who have you been courting? I don’t know of anyone nearby for you to court besides-” Mephisto blinks, disbelief washing over his face. He hadn’t even realized that Amaimon had encountered her; he definitely hadn’t mentioned it. No, that’s absurd; she knows how Amaimon assaulted Rin and even threatened her other friends. It can’t be true. “Are you pursuing Rin’s older sister?” 

“Yes.” 

Mephisto rubs his forehead in frustration. However, _____ would never choose to be with someone who harmed her cherished younger brother. Didn't Amaimon disclose his true identity? "I'll call her," Mephisto resolves, aiming to resolve the situation before Amaimon causes any harm. It's better to address this issue promptly now. 

“No. She’s mine.” 

Mephisto's brow twitches as he speaks. "I can assure you, I have no interest in her. I am going to call her for you." 

“No.” 

"Fine," Mephisto concedes, raising his hands in surrender. "Just ask her if she realizes you're trying to court her. Sometimes, humans can be oblivious, so it might require a straightforward approach." Amaimon begins to protest, but Mephisto interrupts him. "I understand she's not human, but she was raised by one. If her response disappoints you, you will NOT harm her.” Mephisto’s voice adopts a menacing tone as he stresses the last point sentence.

A shiver runs down Amaimon’s spine at the threat. “Okay, bye.”

Mephisto exhales, bracing himself for the tantrum he knows will come from his younger brother when he returns tonight. It feels like there's always some absurd drama with his siblings. 

——-

It’s nearly one in the morning, and you’re lying in bed, scrolling through your phone when the bedroom door opens. You jolt, startled for a moment, but you relax upon noticing the spike on the dark figure’s head. “Amaimon? What are you doing here?” He never randomly shows up at this hour. Instead of answering, he walks quietly around to your side. As your eyes adjust, you see him more clearly. He’s dressed differently than usual—or, rather, he’s wearing less than you’re accustomed to. You’ve seen him without the jacket but never without the vest or arm warmers. Now, he stands before you, wearing only the button-up t-shirt and unusual pants. “Are you okay?”

The more you stare at him, you notice that his shirt’s first couple of buttons have been undone. Was he in the middle of undressing when he decided to visit me? Staring at you blankly with a disinterested tone, he states. “You’re mine.”

He climbs over you on the bed. “Big Brother said you probably didn’t notice I was courting you. I don’t care. You’re still mine.”

“Wait, courting? Courting? As in for a future marriage? Engagement type of courting?” You attempt to push him back like you had in the alley, but this time, it’s like pushing against a stone wall; he won’t budge.

Amaimon gazes down at you, his expression unreadable as he pins you to the bed with his weight. His golden eyes lock onto yours, filled with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I have courted you in the ways of Assiah," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "You accepted my gifts, my gestures of affection. You are mine.”

Amaimon's long, dark claws brush gently against your jaw, sharply contrasting with the strength he's using to hold you in place. 

"Hold on a moment. Just how long have you been courting me? You’re a demon king; what would interest you in courting me?” 

“You’ve proven you’ll be a good mate for me, and I’ve proven I’ll be a good mate for you.”

You try to think back to when you’ve ever made Amaimon believe you’d be a good mate. You don’t even know anything about demons regarding the way they mate. I’m an awful demon; I don’t even know these important details. You frown to yourself, ashamed you don’t know these things. “Tell me how I’ve proven it.” 

Amaimon’s blank stare feels like it’s penetrating you. “You chose me.”

“Huh?”

“You chose me over your brothers, over humans.”

When did I choose him over Rin and Yukio? Your eyes widen as you wrack your brain, trying to think of a time that would make Amaimon believe you’ve chosen him over them. But nothing comes to mind. “I did? When?”

“Often, even tonight.”

Your eyes widen at his words. He’s right. Multiple times, you’ve brushed Rin off because Amaimon wanted your attention. You’ve left early because Amaimon told you he wants to spend time with you. You’ve been choosing him over your brothers.

Amaimon's grip on you tightens as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. "You've always chosen me, even when you didn't realize it," he murmurs, his tone possessive yet strangely gentle. He leans down, pressing his warm lips against yours. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it tonight, but then I saw you and Rin when you were walking home.” One of his hands slips under the long t-shirt you use as pajamas to grasp your tail. Starting at the base of your tail, he runs his claw along to the fluffy tip. Then he gently tugs, causing you to gasp. “Do you still think touching your brother like this is appropriate?” As a jolt of pleasure runs throughout your body, you quickly shake your head. “I didn’t know.” You admit moaning at the sensation. “I won’t do it again.”  

As he gently runs his fingers along your tail, you feel something wrapping around your wrist; you glance to the side and notice it’s his tail. “Wait, stop.” You push against him softly. “I’ve never seen your tail like this.” You mutter, sitting up to touch it. It feels just like yours and Rin’s, but the color matches his hair. Dark green, with a fluffy tip being a slightly light green. “I didn’t know your tail looked like this.” You had seen his tail before when he changed into his demon form. It was thick and looked like a reptile tail. While you hadn’t really put much thought into his tail in this form, you assumed it would’ve been like what you saw that night, just thinner. You run your claws gently over it, observing the color closely and the fact it’s the same as yours and Rin’s. So, do all demons in a humanlike body or vessel have tails like this? With your focus only on his tail, you don’t notice what it’s doing to him. When he lets out a low groan, you turn your attention back to the rest of him. He stares at you with lidded eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry.” You hold your hands up. “I was just curious; I wasn’t thinking.”

Amaimon lifts his hands to his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. While he’s lean, he’s a lot more muscular than you had imagined he’d be. You can’t pull your eyes from the lean muscles on his torso. Amaimon shrugs off the shirt and watches you eyeing his body. “You’re attracted to this vessel? Good.”

Vessel? That’s right, this isn’t his real body. Him and Mephisto need vessels to live in Assiah. Is his true body what I saw the night Rin last control, or does he have another body? Your thoughts come to a standstill when you notice Amaimon taking off his pants. As he pulls off the pants, he removes his underwear, too. Embarrassed, you cover your face. “Why are you covering your face?” Amaimon questions apathetically.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen a guy like this.” You whisper awkwardly.

A hint of confusion flashes in Amaimon’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Of course, this is a time you can’t read between the lines.” You complain, embarrassed you’ll have to say it aloud. You uncover your face but keep your eyes above his waist. “Amaimon, I’ve never been intimate with someone before.”

“You’re a virgin?” He sounds slightly shocked.

“Why are you so surprised? I grew up in a church my entire life, and besides, how could I explain this to a human boy?” you ask, raising your tail.

Amaimon pushes you back down against the bed. Slipping his hands under your shirt to rest on your waist. “Because you’re a virgin, I’ll be gentle this time.” He promises, pulling the shirt over your head. 

  As he positions himself over you, a warm hardness presses against your upper thigh, and you can feel his breath on your skin. Your wrists are gently taken hold of and secured above your head as he kisses you passionately, his tail entwining with yours. His lips trail down to your neck, nibbling and kissing before returning to your mouth. His tongue slips between your parted lips, exploring every corner with passion.

Your body responds eagerly to his touch, lifting your hips and accidentally brushing against his throbbing member. He groans loudly, and the kiss becomes more frantic, his hands roaming over your skin with a feverish need. You catch his lower lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently before Amaimon breaks away from the kiss.

His hands slowly trail down your body, leaving a trail of heat. Softly caressing your breasts, his lips follow in their path, leaving hot kisses and nibbles along the way and finally reaching the waistband of your underwear.

Amaimon’s fingers grip the waistband of your underwear as he pauses and gazes at you in silence. Realizing he is waiting for your consent, you lean closer and press your lips to his. “I never imagined you’d be so considerate.” You whisper against his lips. He pulls the fabric down your legs slowly. "Oh, were you imagining this?" he asks. "What were you imagining I would be like, _____? Should I make your fantasy come true?"

As he speaks, his razor-sharp claws lightly tap against your thighs. "I never imagined those claws," you remark with a pointed stare. Your own claws are nowhere near that long as his look longer and sharper than you remember. Amaimon just rolls his eyes and brings his index finger up to his mouth. "It wouldn't hurt that much. You're a demon." Despite his nonchalant words, he bites down on his claw, shortening it, followed by the ones on his middle, thumb, and ring finger. You blink in surprise; you hadn’t expected him to shorten them like that. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I-I guess I never imagined you’d be so considerate.” You admit, reaching for his hand, running your fingers over his fingertips. The claws he removed are now dull at his fingertips. You know they’ll grow back quickly; by tomorrow morning, they’ll return to the original length. But still, just knowing he cares enough about your comfort to do that. “I was just thinking you would be cautious with them. Not remove them.” You admit. 

Amaimon presses you onto the bed and gently runs his hands over your bent legs. He then delicately spreads them apart, his gaze fixated on your core. “It’s better not to have them when I touch you like this.” He remarks as he traces his index finger along your slit. “Oh, you’re already wet,” he comments, lifting his finger to examine it before putting it in his mouth. “You taste good.”

“Seriously? Don’t just casually comment like that.” You whine, attempting to close your legs, but the demon king doesn’t allow it. 

“Okay, I’ll just eat you out.”

“Amaimon!” 

“That’s the term, right? Wait, let me think. I know some other terms. Mouth-to-genital contact, performing oral sex, cunnilingus...what else is there?” 

“Amaimon! Nobody says mouth-to-genital contact!” 

He smirks. "What do you want me to call it?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Just do it already." 

Amaimon chuckles and then proceeds to lower his head towards your core. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin before his tongue flicks out, gently tasting you. It's an odd sensation you’ve never felt, and you feel a strange mix of pleasure and embarrassment. Slowly, he runs his tongue along you; when he reaches your clit, he lifts his hand, pulling back the hood, then runs his tongue along it. The jolt of pleasure that rushes through you is breathtaking; you jump, pushing his head away. “I-I.” You attempt an apology, but the sensation of what he did is still running through your body. You’ve never felt something that intense before. Amaimon wraps his arms around your left leg, placing his head against your knee as he watches you regain your bearings. 

“If a simple touch has that much of an effect on you, I can’t wait to see how you'll react when you have an orgasm,” he says unabashedly. “Don’t pull away this time, okay?” 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to feel like that.” You huff at the smug look Amaimon gives you. 

Amaimon lowers his head to resume his actions; this time, you prepare yourself the best you can for the feeling of intense pleasure. He wraps his arms around your thighs, ensuring you won’t be able to escape his mouth, then focuses on your clit once more, using his tongue to make small circles. Your short claws dig into the mattress as you moan his name. He gives you a moment to breathe, turning his attention away from the muscle, but it’s only a short moment because his tongue starts prodding at your entrance. “Oh!” His grip on you tightens when you lift your hips at the new feeling. Another pleasure you’ve never felt, and his tongue is long. Pushing into you farther than any human man ever could. The feeling of something moving like that inside you causes your legs to tremble. Slowly, he removes his tongue, and you quickly realize why he removed the claws. It wasn’t just to make sure he didn’t accidentally cut you while touching you like you had been imagining. He slips one finger in carefully, glancing up at you as he does. “Does it feel okay?” He questions, expressionless, his apathetic tone not matching his actions of pumping his finger in and out of you. You nod. “I’ll add another then.” Carefully, he inserts two, keeping eye contact the whole time. 

It's an unusual sensation, neither painful nor pleasurable, with him not moving his fingers inside you. Just different. He keeps his fingers still, allowing you to adjust and become more comfortable. Amaimon observes your reactions closely before slowly moving his fingers in and out. The odd feeling begins to turn into pleasure. When he notices you’re starting to enjoy it, he presses his thumb against your clit in small circular motions intensifying the feeling. 

As his fingers curl inside you, your back arches off the bed, and a tightness forms in your abdomen. Just as you're about to reach something, he abruptly stops and removes his fingers. "Were you close to an orgasm? Oh, my bad." He gives a fake apology. "But I want you to cum in my mouth." 

He smirks as you hide your face in shame momentarily before leaning back down, using his tongue to stimulate your clit while simultaneously curling his fingers inside of you. With his left hand placed firmly on your hip, he presses you down onto the bed as he continues his actions. As the knot forms again in the pit of your stomach, you reach down and grip a handful of his hair, tugging at it in desperation. A low growl escapes his lips, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. You wrap your legs firmly around his shoulders, using them for leverage as you grind against his face, seeking the release that has been building up inside of you.

“Amaimon.” You whine his name, needing something. He contemplates pulling away for a moment to tease you. But your claws are digging into his scalp, and you’re begging him so sweetly. He curls his fingers while sucking on your clit, driving you to your climax.

You moan, vision blurring while your body shakes with pleasure. Amaimon continues his actions even when your body relaxes against the bed. Lifting your head, you glance down at him and feel your face start to burn as you realize he’s focused on consuming every drop of your release. “Stop it.” You complain, trying to push him away. 

“No, I told you I wanted you to cum in my mouth for a reason.” He complains, slapping your hands away. A few seconds later, he pulls away and raises a brow at how embarrassed you look. 

“Are you ready?” He questions. 

“For what?” 

“What do you mean for what? Sex? Sexual intercourse? Love making? Penis in vagina penetration?” 

Groaning, you drop onto the bed, “Why do you have to say it like that, Amaimon? Yes. Do you have a condom?” You glance at him; his eyes are wide. “Guess you’re the one unprepared.” 

“You don’t have any?” 

“I’m a virgin. I haven’t needed condoms before.” 

His eyes are focused on a random wall, and you just know he’s trying to think of the best place to get condoms. “Have you ever slept with someone in that body?” You question, knowing he hasn’t been in the human vessel that long. He shakes his head without looking at you. 

“If your body is healthy…I’m on birth control…” 

Almost instantly, he’s back over you, staring into your eyes. “So, are you ready for sexual intercourse?” 

“Amaimon, if you say it like that again, I will kill you.”

He smirks, lifting your left leg on his hip. “It’s not nice to threaten your mate.” He doesn’t give you time to respond to his words; slowly, he pushes the head of his member against your entrance. “Good, you’re still wet enough.” He says nonchalantly as he pulls back slightly to run his member along your folds, making sure to apply some lubrication. He then pushes in, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It feels different than his fingers, and it takes a moment for you to feel comfortable. Amaimon gives you some time before slowly increasing his movements, sliding in and out of your tight entrance. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, watching you carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort. 

It's a fascinating feeling; you've never felt anything like this before, you feel yourself clenching around him. Your heart beats rapidly, and every time he thrusts into you, it sends shudders down your spine. 

"I'm okay." You manage to say between gasping breaths. "Just different."

Amaimon smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with a playful light. "Different is good, right?" He says teasingly before leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, muffling your gasps and sighs while he continues to thrust into you at a gentle pace.

You respond to his kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. His movements becoming slightly faster now. You whimper into his mouth as he hits a specific spot inside of you that sends shivers down your entire body. 

Amaimon pulls away from the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, "Are you okay?" He breathes out the words, each one a pant against your moistened lips. 

"Yes," you manage to get out, your voice strained with need. 

He nods and abruptly increases his pace. His thrusts are forceful yet controlled, each one sending waves of intense pleasure through your body. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, claws digging into his skin as he continues to move within you. 

You call out Amaimon's name as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb focusing on your clit once again. Your body arches off the bed, eyes wide with pleasure and shock at the intensity of what you're feeling. Amaimon's thrusts are relentless but controlled, leaving you breathless. 

You whimper his name again, your voice barely audible over the sounds of your breath and the slick noises. Amaimon's thumb continues its steady rhythm against you, his gaze locked onto yours as he watches your reactions to each thrust. 

In the dimly lit room, his golden eyes seem to glow as he growls through gritted teeth and thrusts into you with increasingly sloppy movements. 

"Amaimon," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire, "I'm-” Your muscles clench around him, milking him as your orgasm washes over you. Amaimon groans, dropping his head to the crook of your throat and biting down. 

You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him closer as he continues to move within you. Your orgasm has yet to subside, still pulsing within you with each thrust. Grabbing his hair, you tug his head up to lock eyes with Amaimon's golden ones, watching them darken with desire.

“Amaimon," you plead, your voice barely a whisper as his hips slam against yours.

Amaimon emits a low, rumbling growl, his eyes momentarily glowing red before reverting to their usual golden color. His movements become erratic, almost violent until he releases into you. 

He falls on you, breathing heavily, his face nestled in the curve of your neck. "You feel good," he whispers against your skin, then tracing his tongue over the mark he left. 

“You bit me.” 

“I know.”

“It hurt.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

——-

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY SISTER!?”

You sit up in bed, groaning. Your younger brother's screams and threats pierce the air. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look around the room and then down at yourself. Why am I naked? You slowly blink, glancing at your body.

“WHERE IS SHE YOU BASTARD!?”

Even though you’re barely awake, Rin is already causing you a headache. Hearing a response brings it all back. "You mean my mate? She’s still sleeping.” Amaimon! Luckily, a robe is hanging by the door. You hastily put it on and fasten it before entering the living room. “Rin? What are you doing here?”

Rin stands at the doorway, sword drawn, facing a shirtless Amaimon. “What is he doing here?” Rin questions, pointing the sword at Amaimon.

“Oh, uh.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “He’s my…boyfriend.”

“Mate.”

“Amaimon, shut up.”

[forgeofthenine]

Thanks for responding so quickly! The requests I have are mostly simple and I can completely understand not writing for Rolan yet. Anywho, I have two ideas in mind.

The boys with an artistic Tav/reader who has drawings in their sketchbook of them.

And/or

A tiefling reader/Tav who goes to the boys after breaking their horn. My drawings of my Tav have him with a broken horn so I wanted to know how you would think the whole thing went down.

Here's the second request, I loved writing both of these and I've loved writing for Rolan so far! Hope everyone enjoys <3

Tiefling bachelors when their tiefling partner breaks a horn

Dammon

Dammons absolutely shocked

Stands there frozen for a moment

He can barely even get words out, desperately trying to ask what happened and if you're okay

Sits you down right there in his forge while he gets some things to clean you up

Once he's washing what's left of the horn, and covering it in bandages, then you'll be able to tell him what happened

If you had an accident that resulted in this then expect a light scolding from Dammon

He doesn't want to upset you but he does want you to be a bit more wary

When he's done, he'll give you a quick kiss on the lips then one on your bandaged horn, and will joke he's glad you came back in mostly one piece

Dammon grows used to it the easiest, as a blacksmith he's no stranger to accidents leaving permanent scars

Much later, you'll find him running his fingers over the jagged edge idly when he can, as he tells you how gorgeous you are

Zevlor

Mother hen mode: activated

Zevlor is bustling around finding anything he could use to patch you up, washes the area and carefully patches it up

Grabs you food and water too 'for the shock'

Once he's done, before he even knows what happened, Zevlors going to sweep you up in a huge hug

He just wants to make you feel better-

At this point you wonder who he's comforting more, you or him

This man's going to watch you eagle eyed for any signs of discomfort or infection

Expect him to change your dressings every day too

When you tell him what happened, if it involves any other person at all expect Zevlor to throw hands

He's willing to punch Aradin for being a dick and that's much less important to him than protecting you

Zevlor struggles to come to terms with it at first, feeling guilt he wasn't there to help you, but over time he comes to accept things as they are

Rolan

He screams

Mostly just from the shock, but he still screams

Rolan had 'find partner dragging themselves into the tower covered in mud and missing a horn' very, very low on his to do list today

It's honestly a bit funny to watch him

Despite how experienced he is with dressing his and his siblings wounds this on a whole other level

It's a no brainer he turns to magic first, and on the very off chance that fails he'll turn to good old fashioned bandaging

Tuts the entire time you retell just how you lost the horn

You can see how unimpressed he is on his face

Though, if you're upset he'll do what he can to try and comfort you

Another one that reminds you how gorgeous you look, though he waits till you're asleep to brush back your hair and whisper it

Teases you sometimes too, saying it makes you look like a 'real adventurer'

[laurrelise]

i’m rewatching tua season 4 because i guess i once again need confirmation that it’s just as bad as i remember …

but ive been told im too negative about the season on more than one occasion so im going to be positive and name a bunch of things i like about each episode of the final season!! <3

warning: this post is decent sized lol

today we are tackling: episode 2

i do love the beginning montage of the siblings all being sick while simultaneously using their powers to improve their own daily agendas if only it featured more than just 3 of the siblings…?

i love five’s assistant twink and also how he’s called mr. five at the grand old age of 19 years old (i know he’s 64 but shut up)

lila’s eyeball lasers and the rubber ducky

luther being devastated over the place being “destroyed” even when it was a literal shithole to start off with

viktor finding his VOICE. viktor with CONFIDENCE. i love you viktor “ill kick your ass right now” hargreeves. king, you are 4 feet tall, but eat him tf up

“why is it cold” “the real question is, why would you touch it”

five slapping diego’s hand out of the way and him not even trying to fight it is so them and i love it

viktor actually attempting to kick ben’s ass (and as much as he looks like a feral little gremlin, i love it)

luther’s “DUDE! I LIVE HERE” he’s such a grumpus

also viktor’s little speech about him building a life for himself and it all being fucked over because of ben’s dumb ass

“i could’ve lost my job!” “did you?” “wh-” and five looking up at him with wide eyes and genuine curiosity. not the time king but thanks for asking

allison eating ben tf up and klaus supporting her

“i’m not going back to that old klaus. i like this klaus! hey, he collects coupons! he’s frugal, respectable, reliable, and most importantly, he’s a klaus that claire likes. and trusts and looks up to.” THIS IS SO SAD I LOVE HIM

diego pulling ben back to the couch by his hair is such brother behavior

i do love the wanda van. she’s truly iconic

will forever love that five gets the front seat because he’s the old man. if i were his sibling i wouldn’t even try to take it. shotgun is for the senior citizen

the gag about baby shark not being able to stop playing for the entire several-hour long road trip is pretty alright comedy-wise i guess although it would’ve been much funnier if baby shark wasn’t the main goddamn song in the entire season’s soundtrack

i will never shut up about how much i love the love-hate banter from all of the siblings. the actors did such an amazing job bringing the dysfunctional family back to life.

ben getting humbled in the diner was pretty satisfying. sparrow ben i’ve never been your biggest fan but you’ve grown on me

luther’s mention of sloane is so sweet if only she’d been mentioned more than twice

luther is generally adorable i love that man

viktor saying “phones work both ways, yknow” when allison said he didn’t call. i love how much confidence he’s found in himself this season, quite possibly one of the only characters who wasn’t horribly assassinated trait-wise

diego throwing the axes, i love him. also lila’s unimpressed reaction always gets me

klaus with the TAROT CARDS!!!!!! yes please i wish he’d used them more

i do actually like jennifer’s character. the truman-show town thing was so interesting even if it had relatively no effect on the plot for the rest of the season, it had potential but i love that jen matches ben’s freak in the sense that she is absolutely not afraid to call him out on his bullshit

old man five trying to blink :( so sad poor guy

also five immediately pretending to stretch when lila calls him out

once again i love lila and five’s reluctant alliance. why couldn’t they just continue being frenemies for the love of god

five noticing the singular guy looking at them and mentioning it to diego and lila and she says “maybe he likes you” STEVE BLACKMAN YOU COULD’VE PUT FIVE WITH ANYONE ELSE. STEVE BLACKMAN WE COULD’VE HAD A ROMANCE BETWEEN FIVE AND THE ELF STARING AT HIM AND IT WOULD’VE BEEN BETTER THAN FIVE X LILA. STEVE BLACKMAN WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME

ben defending jennifer awwwww

five’s subway station to different timelines will go down as being endlessly awesome if only it hadn’t been created solely so steve blackman could fulfill his own weird ass ideas

diego and lila once again trying to convince the other to let them save the day is a very often-overlooked sign of love that i refuse to ignore. they do it like 3 times in the show and it gets me every time

“i have laser eyes im more powerful than you!” “they’re not even working right now!” “they’re gonna work i feel it they’re gonna work!!!!” lila i love you you’re so cute

“I TOOK OUT THE TRASH” hey btw diego it’s not the time

ok but diego’s flip where he redirects all the bullets… idk how i completely forgot about that part (probably because i was busy thinking about all of the other things that i hated) but it was SO fucking awesome stfu

diego and lila collecting reindeer stuffies for the kids even while they’re fighting for their lives is still so adorable

klaus’ positive affirmations. klaus I LOVE YOU

klaus accidentally finding a fake jennifer is so on brand for him NVM HOW DID I FORGET THAT SHE LITERALLY SHOOTS KLAUS

i LOVE the part where luther’s shielding allison and viktor from the bullets. especially when viktor tears out of his grasp like a feral little gremlin and takes out half of the shooters

still don’t know what the hell allison’s power is???? is it the rumor thing except she only has to think it instead of saying it?!!? idk but it’s cool i guess just wish it was explained more!!!!!!

luther’s “i should’ve known, those sconces were too perfect” he’s all upset but i can’t help but smile he’s literally a 5 year old

the car flip is so fucking cool. the glass flying around the van around everybody is so good, the “carol of the bells” is so menacing and simple, five absolutely serving while everyone else is screaming and flinging around in the back

ALSO DIEGO’S ARM GOING OUT TO PROTECT FIVE. fuck i love them so much. STEVE BLACKMAN FUCK YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO FIVE AND DIEGO

jennifer’s little “help me, ben” as she gets carried away is so tragic oh my god. and his little reach out to her as she’s taken. fuck

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, jean and gene are such phenomenal villains. nick offerman and megan mulally are phenomenal actors. christ on a cracker why couldn’t they have been utilized in a plot that was actually written well

and that’s the end of the episode! only positivity around here folks! :)

…

just kidding here’s some of the tiny little things i caught that i don’t like / that make literally zero sense

luther screaming “no! no! no” when his monkey body is back (for some fucking reason???) is so heartbreaking the poor guy hated himself 💔

i love the whole subway station thing but how the hell did five accidentally blink into the station when he was just running but couldn’t when he was genuinely trying lmfao

it’s absolutely wild that five deadass blinked accidentally and then just hopped on the subway even though he was just running for his life. if the writers genuinely believed five wouldn’t have immediately returned to help his family and checked out the subway later then they need to be fired immediately. thanks

it will never not be funny to me that literally every single person in the town has a huge gun. was that much security really necessary 😭

the part where klaus dies and they give him marigold even though he stressed 100% that he didn’t want it makes me so sad. i get why they did it (he literally would’ve died if they hadn’t) but the panic in allison’s voice as she holds her dying brother and tries to figure out if it’s right to give it to him against his will is so heartbreaking

KLAUS’ “what did you do?” WHEN HE REALIZES HE’S GOT HIS POWERS BACK IM SOBBING

ok and that’s the end

the first couple of episodes weren’t too terrible in my opinion? so it’s understandable that i’d find plenty more things i liked than i disliked in this episode. also all the things i pointed out that i liked were tiny little details when most of the season’s flaws imo were huge arcs / plot points that span multiple episodes so they might not be as relevant in a post of this format !!

might do this when i watch the rest of the seasons to truly identify if i really am too hard on this season (i don’t believe i am considering how many much smarter people have also stressed the issues with this season but it was fun so i might do it anyways)

anyways thanks for reading goodbye

[katebishopfan]

Politely Declined (H.S)

Summary: Hailee and Y/n are secretly dating, but what happens when Griffin asks her out?

Y/n POV:

The bright neon lights of the carnival tents fill my vision as Hailee and I walk along trying to figure out our next move at the giant event. The Weston Carnival is a staple of this town and today my girlfriend and I have spent our entire day here.

"Oh my god! We should go to the petting zoo!" Hailee announces excitedly, pointing at a sign that say "Petting Zoo: Age 2-12". I frown at the age limit and turn to Hailee who's looking up at pleadingly.

"We can try but they might not let us in do the apparent fact we're not twelve." She nods and I grab her hand. "Even if you look short enough to be one." I add teasingly. Hailee gasps dramatically and slaps my arm.

"Y/n M/n L/n, how dare you!" She exclaims in mock outrage as I giggle quietly.

"Mmm, I love spending time with you." I murmur softly, connecting our pinkies softly.

"Me too baby." She hums before letting go of my pinkie softly and looking up at me.

"HAILEE!!" A voice calls loudly and we both turn around. The voice belongs to none other than Griffin Steinfeld, Hailee's older brother. He's walking towards us with a couple of his friends and Hailee smiles brightly at the sight of him. I've always loved how Griff and Hailee get along so well, they really are sibling goals.

"Griffy!!!!" Hailee squeals, jumping into his arms excitedly. I smile at how cute Hailee looks and Griffin smiles back at me.

"Hey Y/n/n, how have you been?" Griffin asks as he places Hailee down. "Pretty good, how about you?" I reply as I give him a big hug. Griffin always has the best hugs. Don't tell Hailee I said that though, her hugs will always be number one but his are a close second.

"Ehh can't complain." He turns towards his friends who are all smiling at me. Ugh, men. "These are my friends, Dean, Lucas and Jesse." Griffin explains happily and I nod at each one of them. I feel Hailee subtly move closer and I refrain from smirking at her obvious jealousy. I know she hates not being out but she's scared how her family will react, even if they're amazing and supportive on all fronts.

"It's nice to meet you." Hailee says with a fake smile and clenched jaw. Their eyes spring away from me as they glance over at Hailee and nod each one of them muttering a quiet greeting.

"We were just about to try and slip into the petting zoo, would you like to join us?" I offer politely, secretly hoping they would decline. Griffin's eyes light up and he smiles brightly at me glancing over at his friends.

"We would love to, right guys?" Griff replies shaking the three boys from their insistent staring.

"Wait what's happening?" Dean asks in a confused tone. Shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts and focus on Griffin.

"We're going to the petting zoo." Hailee repeats in an unimpressed tone. I sneakily brush my pinkie finger past Hailees's trying to offer her some comfort. Her composure relaxes immediately but she doesn't look over at me.

"Yeah, yeah. Um that sounds fun." Lucas agrees along with Dean and Jesse who just nod.

"Great, let's go!" Griffin announces excitedly grabbing my hand. I subtly glance back at Hailee as I Griff pulls me along and find her eyes staring directly back at me. My hand slowly drifts out to grab hers, my body desperately wanting the connection. I hear the annoying click of the paparazzi's camera and I let my hand fall back. Her face starts to fall but she quickly catches it, plastering a fake smile back onto her face as more people start to swarm.

"Y/n, will you be in season two of Hawkeye?!"

"Over here Hailee!"

"Y/n, you're holding hands with Griffin. Does this mean you're dating?!" I drop Griffin's hand and ignore them.

"C'mon guys give us something!" I turn back at Hailee and find trapped, a circle of paparazzi bombarding her with questions. My blood boils and before I know it I'm pushing my way through the crowd. I grab Hailee's hand and then protectively wrap my arm around her waist.

"We will not be answering any questions today, sorry and have a nice day." I announce guiding Hailee out of the way while holding a hand out to shoo people away. I don't even have time to savor the feeling Hailee's body being against mine as I walk briskly over to Griffin who is looking very annoyed.

"Thank you for saving me." Hailee murmurs softly, cuddling up to me sneakily. I smile brightly as her head nestles into the crook of my neck. The moment of affection is brief because Hailee moves her head away once Griffin clears his throat.

"Well, should we try to get into the petting zoo?" He asks, mostly waiting for my reaction. I glance over at Hailee who shakes her head.

"Nah, the paps are here so I wouldn't want to get in trouble and have it make the headlines." I decide, looking around for something to do.

"How about the Ferris Wheel?" Griffin suggests. I feel my heartbeat quicken at the thought of being so high but I try to hide it with a smile.

"Sure, I don't think we've done that yet right ba-Haiz?" I barely catch myself in time but Hailee smiles at the pet name.

"Uhm, no we haven't.. Are you sure you're okay with going that high?" She asks, the tone of concern in her voice apparent. I nod and Griffin claps.

"Alright Ferris Wheel it is then, let's go!" I try to walk with Hailee but Griff grabs my hand and pulls me along. My phone buzzes and I already know who it is.

My Pretty Girl <3 Are you sure you're okay with the heights? I can fake a sudden illness and you can stay with me.

Me I'm sure I'll be fine. Let's try and get our own booth.

My Pretty Girl <3 It's two to a booth so it should be easy <3

Me Great!

Hailee POV:

I look up from my phone as Y/n looks back at me with that cute little smile she always has when she's happy. I'm a little nervous for her to go in the Ferris Wheel because it's very high and Y/n is terribly afraid of heights, but she said it would be fine. Plus I'll be there to support her if she needs me.

"Alright guys, welcome to the Ferris Wheel. We have a four seater here for the friends if the couple wants to go together." I nod and smile. Griffin smile widens and I realize he's talking about Y/n and Griff.

"Oh well, um Hailee and I could also go together if you want to go with your friends." Y/n suggests glancing back at with a mix of panic and apology.

"No it's fine Y/n I'll go with you." Griffin replies happily. I clench my jaw and walk over to the booth where Dean, Jesse and Lucas are already sitting. Y/n stares at me sympathetically and furrows her brow unhappily.

"Are you sure you don't want to go with your friends? I mean Hailee and I have always had this dream of taking a picture together at the top of a Ferris Wheel-"

"It's fine Y/n." I interrupt her. Her smiles sinks even further and I feel slightly bad for interrupting her. She nods slowly and gets into the booth a few down. Whelp, there goes my plan to comfort her.

Y/n POV:

I can already feel the panic in my system rising but I try to push it away and focus on Griffin. We're sitting beside each other which is somewhat comforting I guess, but I just want my girlfriend. Hailee always knows exactly how to calm me down and I need that right now.

"The ride is starting in." "3" "2" "1"

We slowly start to move and I take several deep breaths, somewhat trying to keep myself calm.

"So how is work going?" Griffin asks turning towards me. I barely hear him as we slowly start our ascent.

"I- um, it's going well how about yours? How is the world famous NASCAR driver doing?" I ask, feeling my breath start to leave my body.

"It's….which is…." I try to listen but my body is completely focused on how close we are to the top. "I also need to….these feelings…I really like yo-…" I try to comprehend what he said and form a response but my body doesn't cooperate. I stay silent as we start to descend but I realize what he said and I turn to look at him.

I open my mouth to speak but I get cut off by his lips on mine. He retracts slowly and I stare at him in complete shock. He kisses me again and I squeal pushing him off as we reach the bottom, the ride coming to a stop. I hurriedly climb out and walk right up to Hailee pulling her by the hand to behind a building.

Hailee POV

I wait nervously for Y/n at the bottom and hope that's she doing okay. Her face as she comes down looks distant and slightly panicked which makes me worried. She turns towards Griffin and he KISSES HER?! She pulls away immediately and stares at him before her kisses her AGAIN!!!! This time she shoves him away and the booth stops right in front of me. She gets out with Griffin scrambling after her and grabs my hand pulling me behind some building.

"I'm sorry! I couldn't get out and I didn't hear him because I was too focused on how high we were then he kissed me so I froze then he did it again but I love you and I-" Her words continue spilling out but I can only focus on three of them.

"You love me?" I ask quietly, my heart bursting with joy at the admission. "Of course baby. I love you." She replies like its such an obvious thing.

"I love you too and I'm not mad at you I promise." I reply softly caressing her cheek. She blushes and her eyes glance down at my lips. I slam my lips onto her trying to take her surprise so I can keep my dominance but her tongue quickly slips into my mouth and she pushes me up against the wall. Her hand grazes my thigh innocently before lifting it up and raising it to her hip. I run my hands through her hair and tug softly on a strand causing her to release a muffled whimper.

"You can't do that love." She mumbles into my mouth her lips continuing to move against mine, our mouths slotting together so perfectly.

"Why not darling?" I ask cheekily already knowing the answer.

"Because it makes me too horny." She replies boldly all the sudden rubbing her thigh against my center. I groan at the feeling and throw my head back softly. I try to grind on her but the pressure is gone as quickly as it started. I whine and try to connect our lips again but she only softly pecks mine before letting my leg slowly drop down.

"That's no fairrrrrr." I complain as she starts to walk away. She chuckles lightly and takes my hand, spinning me into her arms.

"I'll make it up to you later." She whispers sultrily. I shiver at the feeling of her breath on my ear and nod hastily.

Y/n POV:

I walked back towards Griffin and the other boys without Hailee's hand in mine, suddenly feeling much smaller.

"Hey, c-can we talk?" Griffin asks nervously, his hand on the back of his neck. I nod my head awkwardly and glance at Hailee who gives me an encouraging smile.

"Let's go over here." I decide pointing to a bench slightly off the path. We walk over quietly and I sit down beckoning him to do the same.

"I'm sorry for kissing you." He mumbles, a deep blush covering his cheeks. I hum in acknowledgment before rolling my shoulders and beginning to speak.

"I really care about you Griffin, I do. I love you, but as a brother. Hailee's my.. Well she and I are really close, and I love you both. I'm really sorry Griff." He takes a deep breath and sighs.

"I understand, thanks for being honest with me." I nod opening up arms. He smiles moves closer letting me wrap my arms around him. After a few moments I draw back and stand up. We walk back in a more comfortable silence and I smile at Hailee who smiles back. Griffin's friends on the other hand are shaking their head at him.

"Well, Y/n and I might head back to my apartment now but we had a really lovely time with you guys." Hailee announces before grabbing my hand and pulling me away.

"Why are you in such a rush darling?" I ask as we walk off.

"Shut up I'm horny."

A/N

Make sure to check my Wattpad, I have ALL my oneshots posted there.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Watch and Learn, City Boy (Taylor's Version)

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: fluff; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; playful partners; sex in a tent; dirty talk; Grizzer has seen some shit.

A/N: This was originally written for the Writer Wednesday week 1 challenge, and if you'd prefer to read a smut-free version, you can find it here. If you like spicy lemons, keep reading!

Want to read more Hound goodness? Check out this fic by @imarvelatthestars

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!” Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you. You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been directly in the path of certain doom. “Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!” You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened. You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion. “Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.” You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled. “She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.” In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved. 

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal. 

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house. 

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience. 

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are. 

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer. You raise his hand to your mouth, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back. 

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says, pulling you into a searing kiss.

Your tongue brushes against his softly. He tastes like sugar and chocolate, and you melt into him. Your hands roam over his body, sliding the jacket down his arms, tugging at his belt. You silently thank the Force that he’s wearing civvies instead of his armor. Once you’ve gotten his trousers off, you both sink to your knees onto the bedroll so you can take his shirt off without hitting the low ceiling of the tent. 

You press him backward until he’s lying down, and you move to straddle him. You’re still wearing your shorts and hoodie, and something about being fully clothed while sitting astride the very naked, very aroused man is intoxicating. You trail your hands over his smooth, brown skin, tracing his tattoos and massaging the hard muscles of his torso. He raises a hand to cup your face, and you kiss the gnarled, twisting scar on his forearm—a memento of a training accident with a young massiff. You roll your hips against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing against you through your shorts. He slides his hands up under your hoodie, cupping your breasts before lifting the garment off over your head. The air is chilly, and your nipples stiffen instantly.

“Oh, fuck, look at those perfect tits,” he groans. “Come here, babygirl. Let me taste you.”

You lean forward, and he captures one of your nipples in his mouth. Jolts of arousal flash through you. His large, rough hands are warm against your back, and you can’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

Grizzer huffs an annoyed snort, and without looking at the massiff, Hound commands, “Grizzer, stand guard.”

She stands with a grumble and pushes out of the tent. You hear the heavy thump as she sits down outside the opening.

“Are you telling me you could have gotten that bedroll back this whole time?” you demand with mock severity.

“Where would have been the fun in that?” Hound asks with a smug grin. “Darlin’, you look hot as kriff in those shorts, but I think it’s time to take them off.”

He holds you against his body and flips both of you over in one smooth motion so you’re lying on your back. You let out a whoop of laughter at the unexpected movement.

“Shh, you don’t want the wolf-cats to hear you and come eat us,” he teases, nipping playfully at your skin as he kisses his way down your torso.

“That’s true,” you say. “I’d rather get eaten by a Hound.”

You raise your hips, and he tugs down your shorts, then lifts your legs in the air to remove them. Before you can lie back down, he kneels and drapes your thighs over his shoulders.

“Nice trick,” you say. “Is that the kind of quick thinking that got you into ARF training?”

“They only accept the best,” he says as he lowers his face to your body.

He dips his tongue into you, sliding over your clit and into your entrance without hesitation. You arch off the bedroll with a cry, and he lays a reassuring hand on your abdomen, pressing you back down as he feasts on you. With his other hand, he strokes up and down your thigh, finally coming to rest against your ass as he grazes his thumb over your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, Hound, don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he asks, pulling away. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t think the wolf-cats heard you.”

“Kriff you, Hound, shut up and eat my pussy,” you laugh, tangling your hands in his long black curls and shoving his head back down. 

He chuckles against your clit and gets back to work. Between his clever tongue and his skilled fingers, he soon has you writhing and begging beneath him, and then he does something impossibly wonderful inside you, and you shatter with a hoarse moan, squeezing your thighs around his head as you grind against his mouth.

And then he is on you, sliding into your tight heat. He fucks you without mercy, wringing a second orgasm out of you almost before you finish your first. You hold on for dear life as he pounds into you, growling words of praise and filth into your ear.

“Look at you, beautiful girl, taking my cock like a champ. Love the way you wrap those soft, perfect thighs around me, oh fuck, sweetheart. So warm, so fucking wet. Come on, baby, think you’ve got one more in you?”

You nod weakly and let out an incoherent sound, unable to form words. He reaches down to rub your clit, pressing against your lower belly. Faster than you think possible, you feel your body winding in on itself again.

“That’s my girl, my pretty girl. Fuck yeah, baby, come on—kark, you feel amazing, oh shit,” he pants. “Give me one more, honey, before I fill your sweet little pussy up with my cum. One more for your grumpy daddy, come on love.”

“YES!” you scream as the tension in your body snaps again and you convulse around his cock, bucking up against him over and over until your head is empty and your body is swamped with bliss.

He follows you into his own orgasm, thrusting hard as he empties deep inside you and collapses onto you, breathing hard. 

“Fuck, baby,” he says. “You’re incredible.”

You lie that way for a long time, tangled together, until he raises himself off of you to lie on his side as he plays with your hair. You turn to face him.

“Daddy?” you ask with a tiny smile.

He shrugs. “It felt right in the moment. Did it bother you?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Just filing it away for future reference.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead, and within moments, you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breaths against your shoulder, and lower, something suspiciously hard nudges against your thigh.

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

---

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @imarvelatthestars

[benjen-mormont]

𓇢𓆸 A BEAR IN SHEEPDOG’S CLOTHING 𓇢𓆸

(Thread with @thefallenprincesss)

“You’ll have to tell me if I start looking like one of your puppies.” A huff of breath, almost a laugh. “Cregan won’t say a word. He’d let me walk through the godswood looking like a damn sheepdog.”

Eight moons. That was how long it had taken for the bad blood between Rhaenya and Benjen to run its course, only to settle, improbably, into something else. A friendship. It had crept in like ivy through the cracks, twisting and climbing, until it was simply there. They treated each other as siblings, lord and lady setting aside propriety in favor of trading jests in council chambers and gossiping through ceremonies like this one.

A chill hung in the air, the first whisper of the long winter to come. Soft snow clung to the branches of the ancient weirwood, its crimson leaves rustling in the wind. Beneath them, Benjen sat on a rough-hewn stool, gold-tipped fangs flashing as he spoke. His heavy cloak lay discarded at his feet, exposing stray strands of dark hair—the casualties of Rhaenya’s blade.

The Targaryen princess-turned-lady had taken to the task with the solemnity of a warrior sharpening a sword, but Benjen seemed determined to ruin the ceremony with sheer force of will.

“I never thought I’d let a Targaryen sneak up on me like that.” He watched a lock of his hair drift down to the snow. “I hope Cregan appreciates the diplomacy on display here. He should be groveling at my feet, really.”

Rhaenya snorted but said nothing. She never did when she worked. It meant Benjen was left to fill the silence himself, which was a dangerous thing to allow.

“I should warn you, this is a sacred Northern ritual.” He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “We cut our hair before winter to mark the turning of an era. Memory lives in hair, so it must be burned.” A pause, then, with a grin: “If I suddenly start acting civilized, you’ll know why. Gods help us all.”

Rhaenya rolled her eyes, unimpressed. They could shave his head bald, and it still wouldn’t be enough to curb a third of his behavior.

Benjen tilted his head back to glance up at her. “Speaking of things that should be burned—has no one warned you about Lord Roxton yet?” No reaction. He clicked his tongue. “Good gods, woman, someone should’ve sent you a raven. The breath of a dying ox, a tongue looser than a drunk septon. If he corners you at a feast, pretend you’ve seen a ghost and flee. Lady Jez did that once, and he avoided her for a year out of fear she was cursed.”

Rhaenya huffed a laugh, and Benjen, pleased with himself, pressed on.

“And then there’s Lord Garreth. Pretends to be pious, but he’s fathered so many bastards they’ve started naming themselves after directions just to keep track. North Garreth, West Garreth—” He scratched his jaw. “I assume East Garreth is next. Unless there’s already one in the Vale, which is entirely possible.”

Another snip. Another chuckle.

Benjen exhaled, watching a stray curl tumble into the snow. His grin faded just a little.

“You should be careful who you let cut your hair, Rhaenya.”

He bent, scooping his cloak from the ground, shaking the snow free before draping it over his shoulders. Cregan had gained a wife, but Benjen hadn’t expected to gain a sister.

“Only a fool lets a blade near his neck.”

A beat. He flashed her a sharp, wolfish grin.

“Good thing I trust you.”

Now I do. Now I do.

[thewisaaaaad]

Hey did you want spoilers for what I'm calling "Scapegoat?"

@thedamnedlamb pretty sure you're interested.

ANYWAY here's a snippet of what i am writing.

(BTW lamb is refered to as "He/Him" here. It won't last long.)

(also its only "he/him" because only male woolly sheep have horns.)

A lamb was shoved towards a crudely hewn block of wood, a knife pointed at their back, a jagged axe waiting for them in front. Chains and manacals bound their hands and feet, reducing their movement to a slow, painful shuffle. It hurt to move, as it caused them to dig deeper into wounds that already had a year to fester. Around them? A crowd of other sheep, cheering, clapping, jeering at the one about to loose their head. “Eat shit, demon!” “You had us fooled for far too long!”“To think that was my son…” People they once called friends, neighbors, even family, now all crying out for his blood. It hadn’t been enough to lock him up for almost a year, all because his horns didn’t grow in right. “Death to bonehorns!” “Your time is up, Breno!” “Spill that damned lambs blood!” Suddenly a cloven foot slammed into his back, sending him headfirst onto the chopping block, his knees slamming into the cold stone dais. The executioner loomed above the defeated sheep menacingly, but did not yet ready its axe. The judges had to make their verdict first. Four massive figures loomed before him, staring down at the form forced to kneel before them by their own brother's hoof. The crowd got quiet, as they began to speak. “Before us stands the heretical sheep, chosen of the heretic.” The frog boomed, black blood leaking from its mouth as its eyes stared unimpressed at the disheveled sheep. He used to pray to her for aid with cooking, on his mother’s birthday. “With this sacrifice, we postpone the end by another year, and remove a wretched blight upon your community.” The squid gurgled, smug as it glared at said sacrifice. Did he find joy in their suffering? Is that why he was always so sickly? “The heretic who lies below will be condemned to eternal captivity, with their chosen dead.” The worm screeched, unseeing yet entirely aware of the meat that kneeled before them. They had a statue of him in the garden, old and covered in moss. He looked so much more grotesque up close. “And the Old Faith shall be preserved.” The spider chittered. It stared at him, almost… melancholy, about the child’s fate. How long had they known of his fate? Would they have intervened? He had no time to dwell, however. Heket gave the signal, and the crowd began to cheer once more. The axe hadn’t even risen yet, and they already celebrated his death. The axe rose. He could practically see the smile on his brothers face as they watched the deadly implement rise, exited to honer his gods with his own siblings flesh. He closed his eyes. He did not need to see what happens next. It swung down, and…

[cringewritinginprocess]

Annoyingly Codependent | Part Two.

Summery: Cousins thrown back to a time that both are in danger but are perfectly equipt to handle. Neither seemed too upset at the change, plans immediately starting despite the new situations. It's more the Mikaelson Siblings that are going to be surprised with the newly aquired family members.

Word Count: 4223

Rating: Mature [Violence | Implied Sexual content] (Rating for entire fic)

A/N: The Trinity are here, and you will quickly see I have favourites... please don't judge me.

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lucien Castle turned up at the exhibit." Hope greeted Marquez, stealing his book and falling onto his bed, and he looked at her unimpressed.

"Nice. We'll deal with it later. Your dad can have a friend for a little while. Why's it my problem?"

"Well, you're the only one who knows he's a murderous bastard we want dead. And it's annoying. He acts all nice, or at least... our family version of nice."

"Elijah or Klaus nice?"

"Dad and Marcel."

"... Okay. I can work with that. Always wanted to stab a Nik copy cat." he said and clicked his fingers and motioned to the book Hope still had, and it flew to his hand.

"Didn't Aunt Freya teach you about not frivolously using magic?"

"Yeah, but mom also taught me not to let others dictate how I use my magic unless I'm in danger, over doing it, or hurting someone who doesn't deserve it." He shrugged and opened it again. "How was the exhibit?"

"People were saying stupid things about dads art. And Cami, Davina talked about her, right?"

"Mhmm." He looked to her.

"She dropped by. There's some murders going on."

"Oh, yeah. Strix are coming. They always do the thing to scare off the tourists." He said. "Probably Lucien."

"You know the Strix?"

"... I made a friend or two." He shrugged.

"Marcel, let them Near you?"

"Marcel doesn't dictate what I do."

"He tries." She hummed.

"Yeah, tried the same with Mom."

"Davina never really did like people telling her what to do."

"Mhmm... It's weird, I'm the same age as her here."

"That why you're avoiding them?"

He turned to stare at her unimpressed. "Isn't that one of those things you don't point out?"

"You care about social niceties?"

"No. But you usually do." He muttered and looked back to his book. "Or act like you do."

"Fair enough. Want a drink?"

"Please." He nodded, looking at her with a smile.

~

"Well, it appears my old mate Lucien has acquired a genuine seer, and in an effort to prove his good intentions, he got her to show us some rather dire visions of future doom. It's grim stuff, really; not for the faint of heart." Klaus was saying as Marquez walked into the room.

"Oh... Great. That's started." He muttered. "Coffee, Aunt Freya?"

"Thank you." She said, standing and taking the second cup he had.

"Who's doom are we talking about here? Because if it's yours, I think we're all okay with that." Hayley asked as if he hadn't said anything.

Klaus chuckled slightly. "Well, sadly, we're all on the chopping block. But, chin up! This witch claims her visions are constantly evolving. So, you may just get your wish!"

"Well, I want to meet this psychic witch." Hayley said and turned to Elijah with a smile. "Tonight."

"Wait!" Marquez said quickly. "Strix party?"

"Good guess." Elijah said.

"I thought I saw a familiar face... Can I come?" He asked, and Elijah seemed surprised.

"These vampires are dangerous -" He started but was cut off.

"I'm well aware. Please?"

"Do you have a tux?" He asked.

"I'm a Mikaelson. I can get a tux within the hour." He said, rolling his eyes. "Fitted and all." He took a drink of his coffee.

"That is a question to ask you. How did this prophecy play out for you?" Klaus asked.

"Well, dad was dead. Rebekah was elsewhere looking for a spell... So, not the same."

"Did we die?"

"Prophecies are self fullfilling and boring. Ignore it." He drawled. "Or else it's a... torturous idioticy. Please don't fall for it." He hummed.

"Are you saying it's OUR fault we'd fall."

"That's Exactly what I'm saying." He said. meeting his eyes. "Why? You want someone to blame?"

"Who kills us?"

"Tries. They didn't." He shrugged.

"Tristan? Lucien?" Klaus asked, and Marquez chuckled.

"Seriously. I'm not telling you." He smiled. "None of it's going to happen. Hope and I have it handled."

"My daughter doesn't need to -"

"Hope will do as she wishes because she is more stubborn than her parents. But feel free to try and stop her. It'll be entertaining to see." He cut Klaus off. "I have to go get a suit. But... call me if you try and ground you 22 year old daughter. I'd love to see it blow up in your face."

"You can't -"

"Bye!" He said, turning to head out of the room with a wave over his shoulder.

~

"Holy. Shit." Hope said as Marquez was heading out of the compound. "You're in a suit."

"... Yea?"

"You haven't worn one since the wedding."

"You haven't seen me in one." He said, shrugging. "It's a Strix party, Hope. You always go in style to a Strix party."

"Just how many have you been to?"

Marquez grinned. "One of the guys tried to.. 'court' me for a year? It was cute. I got free parties and travel. And some really good food and secrets." He said.

"You're awful."

"I know." He grinned. "But it was Fun."

"Did you even like him?"

"Nope. Not like that anyway. Can I get in my car now."

Hope looked at the car behind her. "You bought a Car?"

"A car was bought and I have they keys." Hope looked at him unimpressed and rolled her eyes. "Hey, my moral compass has always been grey." She sighed. Then there was the sound of heels, and they both turned to see Elijah and Hayley. "Wow. That's an amazing dress."

"Thank you." Hayley smiled and looked to the blue sport car. "Are you driving us?"

"Gladly." He grinned. "Are you taking shotgun, Hayley?" Elijah looked unimpressed at the idea, but Hayley grinned.

"Gladly."

Elijah looked at the back seat. "How about I drive?" He offered. Marquez looked at him hopefully.

"But it's new, Uncle Eli. I want to take it for the first drive."

"Marquez." He said slightly annoyed, and Maquez eyes widened slightly, almost wordlessly pleading. "Fine. But I'm driving back."

"You got it." He grinned and looked to Hope. "See you tomorrow."

"See you, Marq. And hey. Tell me what Tristans like." Hope told him.

"Obviously." He nodded. "Last part of the Trinity, right?" Marquez said, opening the car.

"It is. Though you still haven't met Lucien."

"You've met Aurora?" Elijah asked, looking worried. The cousins look at each other, then Hope just headed towards Hayley and Jacksons place while Marquez got in the car.

~

They headed into the Davilla Estate, it was easy to notice the room staring. Marquez, less subtly, headed straight towards the bar as Elijah and Hayley moved to look around the ballroom and headed back.

Elijah frowned, raising an eyebrow as he saw Marquez drinking champagne. "Explaining the sire line rule of your... society?"

"This is Tristans version of the Strix. Very different." He said easily as the pair both got a drink themselves.

"So, Marcels joining is interesting, right?"

"Ah. That does make sense." Elijah sighed, and his eyes searched out the man finding Marcel in the crowd.

"What?" Hayley asked.

"This isn't a party." Elijah told her, while Marcel also seemed to notice them. "It's an initiation."

A row of caterers with trays of champagne flutes walked into the room and tap their glasses with butter knives to get the attention of the party as Tristan, dressed in a fine suit, makes his arrival to the gathering known. Marquez's eyes scanned over the man in interest.

"Distinguished friends, welcome. It's so rare that we're able to come together like this to revel for one night in the company of true equals. Now, I'd like to take a moment to welcome a very special guest; Marcel Gerard." Tristan said and motioned towards the man. Marcel took a step forward as the crowd clapped he nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm honoured. Thank you."

"Of course, before we tell Marcel all of our secrets, there's one small piece of business to which we must first attend. We must determine his worth." Tristan said as he smiled.

"That's funny... I seem to recall you being the one knocking on my door." Marcel said, confused as he frowned, stepping forward, and Tristan just looked amused.

"You'll notice, Mr. Gerard, that over the course of the evening, someone has managed to take something quite dear to you... Your daylight ring." He said. Marcel looked at his hand and seemed to just notice the ring was gone.

Hayley whispered a worried question to Elijah. "What the hell is going on?" She asked, and Elijah just moved a hand to her arm.

"The test is quite simple. First, you need to deduce the identity of the thief. Then, you are simply to take back what is yours..." Tristan explained to him. "Although, I doubt the prize will be easily relinquished. After all, despite our refinement, we're still a rather violent bunch." Marcel seemed to gulp nervously but remained his composure, even as he looked around the crowd. "In victory, you become one of us. In failure, you meet your death. You have a few hours until dawn. I wish you the best of luck."

The party fell back again, and Marquez turned to Elijah and Hayley as they began to talk, pulling his eyes away from the crowd, Tristan mainly.

"These vampires are ancient. How is Marcel supposed to beat one of them?" Hayley asked after talking through the challenge that had been posed.

"With guile, courage, perhaps a bit of trickery... Admittedly, it's a long shot, but then, sometimes, the new candidates surprise us."

"He will. I mean, you don't really think he'd die to one of your soldiers, do you?" Marquez said casually, making the man look to him.

"They aren't soldiers. They're members."

"Oh, of course."

"Tristan de Martel. And you are?" He asked and held out a hand.

"Marquez Erik Mikaelson." He returned, taking the hand, and he hissed lightly, looking at their hand as black lines curl down his wrist and pulled his hand back. Tristan looked in interest.

"Now, what was that?" He asked casually.

He placed his champagne glass down and pulled his sleeve up to look at the mark that had formed, a Strix symbol with a sword behind it. "Nothing good for me." They said lightly and covered it again before others could see. "No matter. So sorry to interrupt your attempt bother Elijah and Hayley. I'm going to see if someone wants to dance."

"If you give me just a moment, I'll gladly dance with you." Tristan said simply. Marquez paused and grabbed his glass again, a slight flush on his cheeks. Elijah frowned, looking to their nephew. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Hayley Marshall-Kenner. I'm glad you joined us, I did want to meet the famous alpha of the Crescent Wolves." Hayley just stared at him, and he seemed amused. "Elijah! When I sent your invitation, I didn't dare think you'd come." He told him. Elijahs eyes snapped to him, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me; as our founder and patriarch, what do you make of our latest candidate?"

"Well, let me see. Marcel..." He started dryly, sarcasm dripping from the words. "He's arrogant. He's stubborn. Prone to self aggrandisement. He should fit in perfectly!"

"If he survives." Tristan said, and Marquez pushed away from the bar to head away. Tristan quickly moved to stop him. "Apologies. I'm sure he'll win."

"If he loses. I'll kill everyone who had any hand in bringing him here." They said in a calm tone. "Now I'm going to dance, join me, or take your hand off of me." They said a plastic smile pulling onto his lips.

The threats just seemed to make the man look more interested. He removed his hand and held it out in offer. Marquez raised an eyebrow in surprise but took it.

"Your loyalty is impressive." Tristan said, leading them to dance, hand wrapping around his waist, their hands together. Marquez moved a hand to the others shoulder, letting him lead. "But I do doubt you'd truly be able to win against Aya. She's one of our oldest, and that's Not including his challanger."

"I promise you, I'm stronger than I seem." He said easily.

"Is that right?" He asked. "So, how do you relate to the Mikaelsons?"

"Next generation."

"Adopted?"

"Nope. Blood. Elijah's my Uncle, if it's him specifically you're asking about."

"Niklaus's then?"

Marquez rolled his eyes. "Most men don't ask me about my family while we dance. You mustn't think I'm very interesting."

"Oh no, quite the contrary, you're fascinating. Few people would walk in here and make comments against us." He said easily.

"Not all of you." He smiled sweetly. Tristan chuckled and casually spun him and pulled him back closer, lips at his ear.

"Be careful who you threaten, sweetheart."

"Be careful who you let have their teeth by your throat. It is ever so vulnerable." He retuned his breath, hitting against it as he spoke.

Tristan chuckled softly, putting the slightest of space between them once more. "I do look forward to getting to know you better, Mr Mikaelson." He hummed.

"Not even my father uses that. Marquez. Please."

"Of course." He hummed, and his eyes dropped to the younger mans lips for a moment.

"Besides, I think being allies would work better for us than being enemies." He offered, and Tristan raised an eyebrow.

"With everything happening with your family? You wish to make me an ally? Not very like a Mikaelson."

"You seem sensible enough to know you need my family alive to survive. Kill Klaus and the others hunt the Strix for revenge until they get to you and your sister. So, not worth it. Make sure the prophecy doesn't happen, then go back to ignoring their existences. That would actively be the best for all of you." He reasoned. "And having the Strix on protection detail is better than having them as enemies."

Tristan smiled lightly. "You talk like him." Marquez raised an eyebrow. "Elijah." He explained.

"Ah." He frowned lightly. "I don't know if that's a good thing."

"Your uncle has a rather... interesting charm and bluntness that's not seen too often."

"You find him attractive, as well?" Tristan just raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be dancing with me if you didn't find me attractive. You'd be dancing with Hayley."

"You're an attractive individual. Mentally and physically."

"Thank you. You're pretty, too." He smiled right before howling and laughter echoed into the room. Klaus soon entered the room with Lucien and a group of women.

They stopped dancing, looking to the scene. Tristans arm stayed around his waist as they watched until the two men watched them. "I'm sorry, please, excuse me." He whispered close to his ear before heading to the group.

Tristan moved towards them. "You should, uh, move along. You're not welcome here."

"Oh. Oh, okay. We're- we're not welcome here..." Klaus said in mock worry and grabbed a glass from the closest server. "Or maybe you should move along before I make you cry in front of all your little friends!"

"My concern is for your companions. They appear out of sorts without a shiny pole to writhe upon." Tristan said amused, refusing to take the bait. Marquez rolled his eyes and looked to the burlesque dances who were stood to the side of the room.

"Ohhhhhh, he's suggesting that you're exotic dancers! Which, to him, is an insult." Lucien said and motioned to the dancers lightly. "If not hypocritical. But, don't take it personally, love. He finds all work demeaning. The only dignified way to accumulate wealth is by birth." He mocked, stepping forward, fixing his jacket, and tapped the end of Tristans nose. "Boop!" His drunken state made more obvious by the second. "Isn't that right, Tristan? Hmm?" Klaus was laughing easily as Tristan kept himself neutral at the actions not reacting at all.

"Niklaus!" Elijah called, walking through the parting crowd as Klaus swung around drunkingly trying to find the man. "You're hammered." He said easily and looked to Tristan. "Which should come as very little surprise to anyone here..." He looked back to his brother. "But it does hamper the festivities somewhat. So, could I recommend that you find the nearest exit?"

"Just..."

"Yes, and could you take your playthings with you, too?" He said, and Klaus pressed his glass into his chest. Elijah took it, and he walked further into the room.

"You know, I used to find it insulting that I was barred from your special little club. But now, I realize that I lack the flexibility to become a member. I could never get my head far enough up my own ass." He said and gave a dramatic bow laughing, grin on his face as Elijah held out his glass. He took it, walked to Tristan, and finished the drink. "Cheap." He said and walked past him. "Come on, let's go, this party's dead anyway." Klaus told the group, and they headed out with howls and laughter following them.

Marcels fight with the Strix member, Mohinder, went well. In the sense, he was losing until the man drank his blood, which had werewolf venom coursing through it.

After Tristan welcomed Marcel to the Strix, passing him his ring back, he looked to Marquez. "Just how confident are you that could take one of us on?" He asked.

"Very."

"Take your pick. Anyone in the room. Extend a challenge." He said.

"Here and now? To the death?"

"Yes."

"Rules?"

"Don't die. No one else steps in on either side." Tristan said simply.

Marquez smirked. "Marquez, we need to get home. You drove." Hayley said.

"I'll see you there." He just took his car keys from his pocket, holding them out to her. "Aya! Would you like to fight?" He asked once they were out of the room. Elijah staying behind.

"Are you so confident, child?" She asked, amused.

"Is that a yes or no, ma'am. I can ask someone else if you fear death?

"I accept your challenge." She nodded. "Don't hold back."

"Oh, I never do. Want to go to a clear room. Or-"

"Here's fine."

"Marquez, perhaps -" Elijah said, looking vaguely worried between the pair.

"It's been accepted, Elijah." Tristan said, cutting him off as he watched amused. "Though I am surprised at the choice."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to swing?" Aya asked.

"I respect my Elders. You first." Marquez waved to her shifting into a defensive stance.

She smiled and moved to attack. Marquez caught her wrist, pushing her away and speeding behind her. "Here's the thing with you older vampires." He ducked under her next hit and moved, kicking her in the side, throwing her against the wall. "You always think you're the most powerful in the room." He drawled.

"Why are you Talking?" She gritted out as she threw herself towards him again.

"Because you're slow." He shrugged. "And one more thing." He hummed and raised a hand, pushing down. She gasped, landing on her knees, grasping at her throat. "You really need to know who you're fighting." He hummed as her chest, neck, and arms started to grey. "Just because I'm young. Doesn't make me weak. Just because I'm a vampire. Doesn't mean that's all I am." He hummed. "And spirits talk. Witches... Hate Vampires. And Old ones love to teach." He said as her eyes started widening. "And you went after a Mikaelson. Bad move." He hummed softly. "I'm sorry it has to end like this." He said as he stepped forwards crouching to her eyeline as the last of the life drained from her.

He stood and turned to Tristan. "Be careful who you challenge next." He smiled, and Tristan hummed eyes on Aya.

"... Welcome to the ranks. Is it her place you wished for?"

"That's not why I was fighting." He said quickly.

"I thought you understood that's what we do. You chose your own initiation. Welcome to the Strix."

"I'm not of the sireline."

"Nor was Marcel." He said simply. "I'll call you soon. I'm sure your family wishes for you to be home."

"Right." He said, moving to Elijah and past him, and the man followed.

"That was reckless."

"Can't die. I didn't expect it to be an initiation. I thought it was a threat." Marques said as Elijah was driving Marcels car. "She's an ex, right? I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you have your reasons."

"She wanted you and Uncle Nik both dead."

"That would kill her."

"Not the way she planned to do it."

"She found a way to break the sire bond?"

"She didn't. Someone else did."

"... Davina." He said simply.

"She won't. Dad's not dead this time." He said calmly.

"Right."

"Besides. Jackson or Hayley would have to die. Me and Hope don't want that to happen."

"Ah... Of course. So you did this to save Hayley?"

"Technically, Jackson. There's a few things that's been fixed with this."

"Is that the death you were planning with Hope?"

"Nope."

"Then who?"

"Don't worry about it just yet."

"Marquez... I'm not a fan of the way you talk around things. Why can't you just tell us things?"

"... I don't know how to be clear without telling you who dies, what originally happened, and such." He said after a moment. "And I don't want to do that. I also like Vaguely being an ass. I blame the witch blood."

"So, some of us do die?"

"I was twelve... So. Not for a while."

Elijah looked to them and frowned for a moment, then back to the road.

They got back and headed to the others in time for the seer to hold a wrist out to Elijah as Hayley was already at one side.

As they fed the womans nose, began to bleed, and seconds later, Elijah pulled back and coughed up the blood. Hayley pulled back with a groan, barely stopping herself from throwing up. "Something's wrong." she said.

Elijah looked up at the others. "Poison." He said lowly and moved as Lucien slipped to her side in denials as the bleeding got worse, and she ended up throwing some up until she ended up falling into his lap as she died.

Hope came over that night finding Marquez lying on their bed, arms over their face. "Okay. What's the crisis about?" Hope asked.

He sighed and moved onto his elbows to look at her. "So. I killed Aya." He said casually.

"Good, how'd that happen?"

"Tristan asked if I was confident I could beat someone. I said yes. He let me challenge who I wanted. I picked her." He said, sitting up. She walked in, closing the door, and sat opposite him on the bed. "Another issue." He hummed, pushing his sleeve up and held out so she could see the mark. She gripped his wrist, pulling it closer. He gritted his teeth as he was dragged forward. "Not such a funny joke anymore." He muttered.

"Tristan?" He looked sheepish at her. "You only mark like this when...." She said and sighed. "God damn it, Marquez." Hope said annoyed and let go. "You just had to go get linked to one of them."

"At least it's not Lucien." He murmured, rubbing his wrist.

"Yes, well. It still means you suddenly have a weakness we weren't calculating for."

"Well, I'm still not too vulnerable until I actually care about him. I'm not sure about him yet. He threatened me as we danced."

"You danced with him?"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, so, you at least think he's cute."

"I never claimed to have good taste in men." He shrugged. "The vaguely bad for me guy seems to be interesting for me than the good guy."

"... Lizzy always said you were enemies to lovers bait."

"She saw me as the bad guy. Do you think I'm the bad guy?"

"I think you put an asshole front up."

"... Pretty sure I'm just an asshole."

She rolled her eyes. "Just. Be careful. I know you're avoiding Uncle Kol and Aunt Davina. Barely talking to them."

"Not like I lived with them anyway."

"Yeah, but you called every other day. No need to pretend you aren't close."

"I miss them, is all Hope. But it's fine. I can't exactly go up and call my mother Mom because we're the same age."

"Moms only like... five years older than me." Hope reminded him.

"Then there's Dad." They said at once and smiled.

"I'm glad you're with me, though, Mar." Hope said. "I think being alone in this would be hard, I don't think I'd make the right decision or pace it right."

"I just killed Aya and got myself initiated as a Strix." He said flatly.

"Oh. You're not thinking either. But we have each other to back each other up."

Marquez laughed lightly. "I say we kill Lucien by thanksgiving, latest."

"Sounds good. You could always get back up from the Strix."

"... Tristan did seem to hate Lucien." He hummed.

Hope chuckled. "So, does he like you?"

"He offered the dance."

"Hmm. Gonna use it?"

"Maybe." They shrugged, unconciously moving over the strix mark. "I'll figure it out."

"Don't fall for him."

"You know I don't do love."

[em-writes-stuff]

flufftober + whumptober day 10

prompts: love of my life + stranded

890 words

warnings: cursing, toxic relationship, implied past abuse

characters: isadora harper, silas, chrysanthemum, and imogen gable

part one

~

Scratch pulls her hand away from Silas and bends over, its hands on her knees. “I just…” she pants. “Need a minute to…catch my breath.” 

Silas nods and takes a few breaths himself, “We have to keep moving. It’s dangerous out.” 

She rolls her eyes and lifts its head to look at him, “Maybe I’d be more willing to run if I knew what was going on.” 

She looks at him expectantly and frowns when he ignores her. “We have to go. I can explain once we’re somewhere safe.” 

“Yeah,” it says, shaking its head. “I’m not going anywhere with a guy I just met. I can figure something out.” 

Silas sighs and looks around anxiously, “Fine,” he says, digging in his pockets. “I have a note from Kaya. He asked me to take care of you? So, please, let me? Because he’s one person I don’t want to piss off.” 

He hands her the letter and she reads over it. “Alright.” she says, handing it back. “But one wrong move…” 

Its hands move defensively to its dagger and Silas raises his hands, “Got it. Hands to myself.” 

She nods and motions for him to lead the way. He tucks the letter back in his pocket and starts running again, barely looking behind himself to check that Scratch was following. 

She trips over crumbling cobblestone and barely avoids running into people to keep up with him, huffing and puffing the entire way. He ducks behind a curtain and she nearly suffocates getting past it. He’s standing on the other side, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You alright?” he jokes. 

It glares at him, “Shut the fuck up.” 

His eyes widen and his smile changes to one more genuine. “We’re safe now.” he gestures to the small room with an extravagant flourish of his arms. “Welcome to my home.” 

Scratch looks around, unimpressed. “You live here?” 

She glances over the tattered blankets tacked up against what it assumes are windows and frowns. The walls are covered in mold and the whole room smells rotten. Its nose wrinkles and she smiles. “How long are you letting me stay?” 

Please don’t be a long time, please don’t be a long time, please don’t be a long time. 

“Oh, just until you find somewhere else to stay. Don’t worry, I won’t kick you out. Kaya told me to take care of you.” 

“Told us to take care of her,” Someone says, pushing past the curtain, and standing in the doorway. “Hi,” they say, reaching out their hand for her to shake. “I’m Chrys.” 

Silas’ face falls, but he quickly recovers his smile. “How’d you find us?” he asks, shifting his weight on his feet. “I spent days looking for somewhere you couldn’t find.” 

Chrys frowns and makes a disappointed sound. “I followed you. You’re not as good at hiding as I am.” 

“Neither of you are good,” another voice says. She comes out of a shadow and waves coyly. “Hi, Imogen.” 

Scratch blinks a few times before waving back, “Nice to meet you all. Siblings?” 

Silas clears his throat, “Triplets.” 

“Fun.” 

“If you say so.” 

It chuckles and looks at Chrys. “You look like you’re in charge. Do I have to do anything to keep my place?” 

“No,” Silas says before Chrys can answer. “Nope, just…chill until you find your footing.” 

Chrys glares at him and nods, “We have a little…friendly competition every other night. You’ll have to compete every other time.” 

Silas stares at Chrys and shakes his head, face begging them not to follow through on the promise. Chrys’ face sets and they grab his arm. 

“I need a moment with my brother,” They say, tucking behind the curtain.” 

Scratch puffs out her cheeks and turns to Imogen. “So,” she says, “Two brothers?” 

“Two brothers,” she responds. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I know a new person is gonna be awkward.” Scratch says, itching her arm. 

Imogen scoffs, “You’re not staying at our house. You’ll be staying with the other fighters. Silas likes to make his own rules. It’s safer if you stay there anyway. Less likely to be chased away.” 

On the other side of the curtain, Silas yelps and holds a hand to his cheek. Chrys lowers their hand and takes a deep breath. 

“We need to do this to get even with Kaya. Don’t you get it?” they spit. 

Silas looks up at him, “I just don’t know why we have to start her there right away. She’s just been stranded here.” 

“Unless you want to start fighting again…”

“No,” he interrupts. He runs a hand over the scar on his stomach and shakes his head. “No. Just, give her a day?” 

“Did you get a day?” 

They don’t wait for an answer and walk back through the curtain, catching the last of Scratch’s sentence. 

“-need to get back to the ship for Beau.” 

She snaps her head around and her mouth turns into a small lipped smile. “Everything alright?” 

“Perfect,” they say. “Who’s Beau?” 

It closes its eyes and smiles softly, “My best friend. Pretty much the only reason I’m considering going back to Kaya and definitely the only reason I’m still alive.” 

Chrys hums and nods, “He sounds lovely.” 

They walk up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, “Ready for your fight tonight?” 

[satyr-gardens]

Oh Brother, What have you done?

Cadmus appeared offended as he responded, "Money? I don't carry my wallet around when I'm with the common folk."

Bennie remained unimpressed, retorting, "Well then, could you please explain how you plan to pay for dinner for yourself and your three siblings? After all, you're the one who invited us out." As they strolled down Tourist Trap Ave, an outdoor mall in the Silver district of Inner City, Bennie's exasperation was clear. The place had all the standard attractions you'd expect to find in any major city: outlet stores for big brands, novelty shops, a couple of Oddity museums promoting unique and unusual exhibits found only here, and even an IMAX movie theatre offering a 4D experience.

Meanwhile, Karnus remained engrossed in his phone, catching up with friends via text since he had been out of service area for nearly two weeks due to his job. Syliph, Karnus's twin, who was partially blind himself, kept a hand on Karnus's shoulder not for his own support but to prevent him from bumping into strangers.

With a mischievous grin, Cadmus scanned the crowded plaza and noticed some scam games where people paid money to lose. He pointed at one that offered a $200 grand prize for pulling a gold brick through a hole.

Bennie, still unimpressed, asked, "How are you going to pay the fee to play?"

Cadmus responded with an incredulous look, saying, "Have we met? I'll just work my magic, obviously." He confidently walked over to the game operator, took his hand, and smiled, engaging in a mysterious silent exchange. After a few seconds of this, the game operator's face softened into a creepy, blissed-out look, thanks to Cadmus's skill with mental magic, which unnerved his younger siblings who had witnessed this power in action before.

"Karnus? Can you come here real quick?" Cadmus called out to his brother who was still absorbed in his phone.

"Nope," Bennie interjected, grabbing Karnus's shirt. "You got yourself into this, and you have to do it yourself. Besides, we're not paying for dinner, and that includes work-related activities."

Karnus looked up, his concentration broken from his phone. "What's going on?" he asked.

Bennie quickly filled him in, and Karnus's face showed annoyance. "Oh, screw off, Cadmus! Play the game yourself!"

Cadmus frowned, looking like an insulted owl for a second. "Fine," he grumbled, rolling up his sleeves.

The three siblings gathered around, planning on giving Cadmus the full peanut gallery experience.

Karnus started off teasingly, "Shouldn't be too hard considering how thin those arms are."

"True," Bennie chimed in, "but have you ever seen him pick up anything heavier than a martini glass?"

Syliph smiled, "I have. It was a big bottle of vodka... but well, I am partially blind, so it might have been a trick of the light."

The siblings giggled at their older brother's expense as Cadmus struggled to get a proper grip on the golden bar through the hole in the box. "You three suck!" he barked in frustration.

Once Cadmus managed to get a solid grip on the heavy gold bar, he muttered some magic words under his breath, much to the eye-rolling annoyance of Bennie, who knew exactly what he was doing. With magical assistance, Cadmus seemingly effortlessly lifted the golden bar through the hole, impressing the crowd of tourists. He handed the brick to the game operator and pocketed the cash prize before catching up with his brothers who were walking away.

"Well, I did it," Cadmus said, with a hint of pride.

"Yeah, but did you really?" Bennie retorted. "It was obvious what you were doing, and honestly, it was kind of shitty." The other two siblings nodded in agreement.

Cadmus tried to defend himself, "So what? I know it was underhanded, but so was that scam of a game."

Syliph interjected, "Sure, but Cadmus, you and that man live in entirely different worlds. You don't know his life. How could you possibly understand?"

Cadmus scoffed, "Guys, come on."

Karnus couldn't hold back his frustration, "No, you come on. You used magic to win at a game just to get $200 for dinner? Hell, you didn't even pay the man for the privilege. You manipulated his mind to let you do it! You know you didn't need to do any of this. We would have been happy if you just took us to one of your restaurants, but no, you had to look good in front of a crowd of tourists to feel special. You are such an ass, Cad." His anger was evident, and he didn't hold back his feelings.

"It's not that serious, guys! Fuck! You... Y-you don't know what that man was thinking about, but I do! He was..." Before he could continue, he was cut off by Bennie.

"Cadmus, just shut up. We don't want to know. Why would we? Next time, just use that big fucking brain of yours and plan ahead and use some fucking empathy for your fellow man. Come on, guys, let's go." Bennie summoned their spear with a blast of light and slammed it into the ground, creating a portal through which the three of them left, leaving Cadmus alone in the alleyway.

@passimtemere

[taughtdefense]

she's never mean to me and i just get to watch and giggle, it's a win win //yes he's talking about talia

miyagi-fang won the sekai taikai qualifying match.

sam fought against devon & won. (not that you had any doubts, but that referee calling a block a point & ignoring an actual hit confused the shit out of you, your parents, your siblings—really, everyone on the sidelines.)

(you’re trying not to linger on the fact that kenny used some terrifying move against hawk, causing him to forfeit.)

you didn’t fight, but you’re still here, standing in the middle of a celebration that belongs to all of you. because it does. the music is loud, the energy electric—laughter, cheers, the steady pulse of victory buzzing in your ears like an aftershock.

miyagi-fang fought for this. sam fought for this. you didn’t. but you’re still here.

& then there’s blake.

he sees you before you see him. but it doesn’t matter—you feel him first.

he moves with that same cocky swagger, all false confidence & tightly wound aggression, like he’s looking for a reason to lash out. & when his gaze finally lands on you, there it is—the inevitable sneer, curling his lips like just the sight of you pisses him off.

‘weak.’

the whisper curls at the edges of your mind, slithering in before you can block it out. cold, familiar. his voice. silver.

you breathe in. push it down. ignore it.

“figures,” blake mutters, already walking toward you. “big win, huh? must be nice, celebrating a fight you didn’t even step into.”

the words should sting. they don’t.

but the voice does.

‘pathetic.’

it’s disgusted. unimpressed. but it’s not talking about blake.

he doesn’t stop there.

“seriously, what’s it like? playing house with my dumbass little brother? bet you just eat that shit up, huh? pretending you belong? you’re pathetic, man. doesn’t matter how many people pretend to care about you—everyone knows robby’s the only reason you’re even here. without him, you’re nothing.”

robby tenses beside you, but you place a hand on his arm before he can react, your hand slipping down from his arm to his waist, pulling him tighter against you, holding him there. keeping him still. keeping yourself still.

‘he insults you, & your first instinct is to hold someone back?’

you don’t react. not to blake. not to silver.

not this time.

blake’s barely opened his mouth to spew more garbage before talia steps in front of you, her movements fluid & sharp, a silent blade slipping between you & the problem. her expression is calm—too calm, that eerie, unreadable kind of stillness that always means something brutal is coming.

you don’t have to hear what she says.

you just watch.

the insults she throws out, sharp as barbed wire, are brutal.

& a little funny.

she doesn’t yell. she doesn’t curse. she doesn’t even raise her voice. she just eviscerates him, surgically, precisely, tearing him apart piece by piece.

& he takes it.

no sharp retort. no cocky comeback. nothing.

just blake, standing there, jaw clenched, fists twitching uselessly at his sides because he knows—he knows—that if he swings, if he lashes out, it won’t just be robby stopping him. it won’t just be talia.

it’ll be you.

‘finally, mr. wilson.’

the words seep into your thoughts like oil. slow. satisfied.

blake swallows whatever pride he has left, mutters something under his breath, turns, & leaves.

but you don’t let him go easily.

“hey, blake.”

your voice is smooth, steady. loud enough to make him pause in the doorway, shoulders tight with barely contained frustration as the party continues on, your friends not stopping in their celebration just because he’s here.

he doesn’t turn around. you don’t need him to.

you tilt your head, pause for just a beat, then—

“thanks for proving my sister right.”

his hands curl into fists, but he doesn’t come back. he just stalks off, humiliated, his entire existence shrunk down to nothing more than a shadow slinking away.

you won.

but the voice isn’t impressed.

‘words don’t mean anything.’

you exhale slowly, rolling your shoulders, trying to shake off the tension, but the voice lingers.

‘what a waste.’

your jaw tightens. too tight. you flex your fingers & feel the soreness in your knuckles, only now realizing how hard you’ve been gripping your own wrist.

blake is gone, humiliated, irrelevant. & right beside you—your people. robby, rolling his eyes & slinging an arm over your shoulders, tugging you down into him—which you certainly don’t mind—still smirking like it was all one big joke. talia, cool & unaffected, like this wasn’t even a fight. like she knew, from the second she opened her mouth, that blake had already lost.

@taughtpain nudges you, & your stomach flips a little when you meet his green eyes. “she’s never mean to me,” he says, smirking, “& i just get to watch & giggle. it’s a win-win.”

you let out a breath, something between a laugh & pure satisfaction.

it is a win-win.

but the voice doesn’t leave.

‘you should’ve done more.’

“glad you’re having fun, my love,” you tease, voice light. then you lean down & kiss him properly, momentarily ignoring talia to focus on your boyfriend. the noise of the party fades into the background, one hand resting on his waist while the other playfully messes with his hair before sliding down to his hip. then, the hand on his waist joins the other, both now settled on his hips.

[fairly-fairy-shampoo]

Chapter 5

—Evette—

Warning: None

With a frown plastered on her face, Evette watched her sister and Soobin walk off. She knew she was perhaps being more obvious with her displeasure than was advisable but she couldn’t help it. Seeing Beomgyu’s sly face in her halls was just about the worst thing she could picture. Well, a certain Seo Changbin might have recently earned himself first place in Evette’s list of worst things but she digresses. Now, she not only has to deal with looking at Beomgyu which is arguably bad enough, but with Evanna preoccupied with whatever it is Soobin is so worried about, she has to play host to him! In the past, she had been able to fall behind while Evanna took lead in their interactions but no more it seems. She grumbled a curse to herself (which Odette heard and gave an unimpressed look in response to) and made her way to the two remaining Choi brothers.

She smiled, “While our siblings are occupied might I suggest the four of us walk around the gardens? Our gardeners just planted new Cherry Blossoms, which, as the sigil of your house, you must make time to see while you’re here.”

Evette truly patted herself on the back for that one. What a dignified, politically friendly thing to say. And if she only made eye contact with Yeonjun and didn’t look at Beomgyu once the entire time she spoke, well what about it?

“As the sigil of our house…” Beomgyu responded in a tone that could only be described as mocking, “...we have seen our fair share of Cherry Blossoms. I think we’ll survive without seeing a few more.” He had a twinkle in his eye that indicated he was trying to tease her rather than being flat-out rude but Evette couldn’t care less about his intent. Right before she was about to tell him just how little she appreciated his input, and his presence while we’re at it, Yeonjun interrupted with a jab of his elbow to Beomgyu’s side. Beomgyu made a noise of pain and, clutching his side like it was the source of some great wound, turned to his brother, betrayed. Yeonjun ignored him in favor of speaking.

“I’d love to see the Cherry Blossoms! Sigil of our house or not, they’re too beautiful to pass up.” He turned to look at Beomgyu expectantly who sighed.

“Lead the way.”

Evette smiled again, sure her eye was twitching at this point. “Lovely. Follow me.”

Evette turned and started walking towards the gardens, not checking to see if they were behind her. Odette caught up to her and kept pace with her stride. “That was very diplomatic of you, I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it. The more I’m around him the less patience I have. It’s only a matter of time before he says something stupid enough that I won’t be able to stop myself from responding.”

“Well, in any case. So far so good.”

Evette smiled despite herself. “Thanks, I guess.” She turned around, looking at the Choi brothers, keeping pace behind herself and Odette a few feet back. “So… I can’t help but notice you haven’t said a single word to Yeonjun yet.”

“I told you, I’m over him. I’ve moved on.”

“Still, I didn’t wanna believe it till I saw it. Normally by now you’d be at his side, not mine.”

Odette bumped her shoulder playfully, “Hey, that’s not true.” Upon a moment of reflection, “Okay, maybe it’s a little true but can you blame me? I’ve moved on, believe me, but still! Look at those lips.” She sighed. Evette hummed in response and the two turned their heads to catch another look at the brothers, still a few steps behind.

“Are we supposed to be talking to them right now?” Evette asked Odette, noticing for the first time how their disinterest in the men behind them might come off as strange.

Odette shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the princess, I’m just a ward, how am I supposed to know?”

“Isn’t that the point of being a ward? To learn these things?”

Odette scowled, “well maybe you’re just not teaching me well enough.”

“Me?” Evette asked, “That was never my job. That’s on Evanna.”

Odette hummed in acknowledgement. “I feel like Viana would be talking to them right now.”

“Probably.”

“So you should go talk to them.”

Evette turned to look at her with an expression of horror “Me? But we were just talking about how you were supposed to learn these things.”

“But you’re the princess, if Evanna’s not here political stuff falls on you.”

Evette scoffed, “it’s hardly political stuff. I’ve known Yeonjun and Beomgyu since I was a child.”

“So… you should be able to talk to them.”

“It's not them I’m worried about. Yeonjun I can make a conversation with. Beomgyu on the other hand… well I don’t even want to try.”

Before the two were able to come to a decision, they arrived at the gardens. Meaning they could no longer walk a safe five feet ahead of Yeonjun and Beomgyu but had to stand as a group.

“Your garden is beautiful.” Yeonjun is complicated. “Even better than the last time I saw it.”

The garden was truly a demonstration of the wealth and prosperity of House Lanmé. As far as the eye could see, there were vibrant greens broken up only by pinks, yellows, blues- any color that could be found on a flower was in their garden. Statues littered the walkways. Sculptures of past rulers, mythological beasts, important historical figures, there was even a bust of Evanna sitting atop a pedestal next to the marigolds.

“It’s impressive you can grow such a variety of plants this close to the shoreline.” Beomgyu said, wide eyes taking in the sight.

Evette knows logically that wasn’t an insult. She’s not stupid. But to her ears, it’s a demeaning statement meant to placate her. Like telling a child who presents you with an illegible drawing how impressive it is that they got the color of the grass just right. “Our gardener works hard.” She says pressing her lips tight.

The air fell a bit silent until Yeonjun cleared his throat. “I know my imbecile of a brother said that we’ve seen many cherry blossoms but I must say…” Yeonjun said crossing the cherry tree towards Evette and Odette, observing it and them. “…it does not hold a candle to your highness.” Yeonjun said kissing her hand and smiling before looking in the direction of his brother. Beomgyu bit his lip and furrowed his brow, looking away from them.

Evette didn’t know the reason for his obvious discomfort; seeing his brother flirt openly (though probably not that since it’s hardly the first time he’s been subjected to the sight), being called an imbecile, seeing Evette complimented. Whatever the reason, Evette delighted in his response almost more so than Yeonjun’s compliment. Almost.

“Thank you Yeonjun,” she said, face feeling hot, “you’re too kind.” She glanced at Odette, worried she might be feeling jealous that Yeonjun’s attention was focused on someone other than her, but to Evette’s surprise she truly looked unbothered. Odette has said she’s over Yeonjun countless times by now but it’s one thing to hear it and another to see it.

“Now,” Yeonjun said, “how about a tour around the garden?”

“We’ve seen it plenty brother, we practically grew up here.” Beomgyu said petulantly, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“It’s been some time. I’d like a refresher.” Yeonjun said. “And stop being such a brat.” He added.

Evette noticed Beomgyu’s ears turn red and he rolled his eyes. Truly she was surprised a throwaway comment seemed to affect him so deeply but he definitely deserved it. Only now, not only did she have to deal with him but him and with a bratty attitude. So maybe it wasn’t so great after all.

Evette and Odette led the brothers through the gardens. Yeonjun tried to fill in the empty gaps of conversation that Beomgyu and Evette left and Odette did her best to help as well. Nothing would dispel the awkwardness. They remained in such a state until Yeonjun gave up and led them back to the main hall, reuniting with their siblings. Evette had no clue how she was supposed to go through an entire wedding dealing with this…

Previous Chapters - Next Chapter

( MASTERLIST)

[flawseer]

There has to be a way to respond to other people without repeatedly putting my own post on my blog three times in a row, or running into the character limit in the replies, right? Tumblr? Please?

First of all: Hello! I’ve seen a few of your posts around. I think they’re very cool. I’m very thankful for your insights also.

With regards to Qibli, that is an interesting interpretation of him. It’s not one I share myself, but I can see everything you’re saying in the text. As someone intimately familiar with the effects of bullying and belittlement, I also feel the apprehension that comes with acclimatizing to such a flippant character.

I don’t expect what I have to say will change your mind on Qibli or anything, nor do I even want that to happen; I just want to put this in the room and then people can draw their own conclusions from it.

What saves Qibli in my mind—from being a bully who preys on Winter’s insecurities for his own amusement—is a short, barely focussed on part in Moon Rising.

[Winter] paused, and then an unexpected expression creased his face. “Hey, I didn’t promise anything about everybody,” he said. “Just her. I have an IceWing warrior mystique to maintain, after all, come on.” He looked at Moon again, and then he turned and jumped out into the sky, flying after Tsunami and the others. “I’m probably wrong,” Qibli said, “but I think my clawmate just made a joke. Is that possible?” Inside he was thinking, Yes! I knew that dragon was in there, if I can just drag him out.

That last part is the important bit. It is only one sentence in the middle of a longer conversation, so it’s really easy to skim past and not notice. But that sentence puts Qibli’s entire relationship with Winter into context for the rest of the story. It is the key to understanding who Qibli is as a person.

His thoughts inform us that Qibli’s intention when he needles Winter is not to belittle or hurt him. Rather, it is to break down Winter’s emotional walls and drag out his true self from behind them. This is his attempt to help Winter, because he senses a kindred spirit in him. They both suffered under parental abuse, but Qibli knows he was lucky because he had someone who rescued him from that. I think, while he doesn’t yet know about Winter’s full history, subconsciously he recognizes that Winter is chafing under the same feelings he himself suffered from before Thorn’s intervention. He believes perhaps he can be a similar figure for Winter.

This is a bit arrogant on Qibli’s part, to force himself into the role of a savior when Winter hasn’t expressed any desire for him to be that. But it’s also important to note that Qibli is young and inexperienced, and not as fully over his own demons as he thinks he is, so his approach is blunt and lacking in finesse. It’s usually clear to me that he means well though, which to me saves Qibli from coming across as callous and crass, and instead reads as a guy who’s just awkwardly trying to help while not having a complete map.

And the thing is, it often works. Winter tends to respond well to Qibli’s teasings, usually firing back with quips of his own. Winter doesn’t really have someone like this at home, someone on his level whom he can facetiously trade barbs with. Everyone else he knows (his siblings and parents) are above him; if he talked to them this casually he would probably get beaten. The two even bond over it in Winter Turning, where instead of making fun of each other, they talk smack about their shitty families instead.

At one point, Winter becomes so comfortable in this dynamic he even pokes fun at himself and his own culture.

“Terribly undignified,” Qibli said in a haughty voice, tipping his snout at the racing dragons. “We would never allow such higgledy-piggledy shenanigans in the Ice Kingdom.” “Was that supposed to be me?” Winter asked him. “Terribly unimpressive, if so. I haven’t once said ‘higgledy-piggledy’ in my entire life. We would never allow such linguistic imprecision in the Ice Kingdom.” Qibli barked a delighted laugh and did a loop in the air.

Qibli is so genuinely happy here that Winter is coming out of his shell. This is a big step for him. The Icewing warrior from Moon Rising would never have done this; it’s a sign that the group has grown closer together and that Winter trusts Qibli to not turn this moment against him. There is no malice between them, there is no one who holds more power than the other. Here, they are just two friends who poke fun at each other, as equals.

It only really turns toxic in Darkness of Dragons, where everyone transforms into an angry-faced caricature because there’s an invincible villain to deal with and a love triangle to resolve. So everyone lines up to crap on Winter, and Winter reverts back to his jerk persona from book 6 so everyone can write him off and Moon can say “yeah, whatever, Winter will be ok or something I don’t care” and make out with Qibli guilt-free.

It was really important to have a scene where Qibli apologizes for his horrid remark he makes to Winter. That was the last nuance that needed to be explored in their relationship; that Qibli would back off and humble himself if one of his well-intentioned quips ever crossed a line and genuinely hurt Winter.

But the book drops the ball, and the apology never comes. Its absence horrifically re-contextualizes their entire friendship into garbage. Qibli really did just make fun of Winter all this time, and never cared about his feelings. That thing he thought, about wanting to draw the real Winter out, was just his way of justifying it to himself. He can ridicule this angry dweeb, it’s probably good for him or something, but more importantly it will be funny. Great.

Qibli is one of my favorite characters in the series. At one point he was THE favorite character in the series for me. This ruins him. But I want my happy, fast-talking silly boy back, so I’m rejecting this reality. I think when you’re baking a cake, and the last step in the recipe tells you to add shaving cream and broken glass to the icing, it’s okay to throw out the cook book and play the final part by ear.

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.