#she's still falin of course. still mostly falin but that's not all she is. not anymore

[aphel1on]

succumbed to writing thistle fic and tripped sideways into post-canon falin character study

[lunahearts]

Okay I'm doing it. I'm chapter 96 posting.

This is not meant to be a big analysis post this is mostly just me sharing all the little moments that Marcille & Laios show their care for each other because they are SO beloved to me. Join me on the journey if you wish.

(but also the above statement may be a lie. I do have a point here, it turns out, and the point gets at some of my Big Feelings of what Dungeon Meshi has to say about the nature of friendship & living in the world)

So, first of all, the conversation about Laios being king at the start of the chapter. Just in general Laios insisting on presenting himself in his own way here is so good. Character development!!

Before the events of the story he hadn't shared his inner world with anyone but Falin. Now he's like Actually I'm gonna dress up in the discarded remains of my monstersona and that's just how it is.

And even though there are a LOT of parts of the story and bits of character growth that go into this, I think it specifically highlights some interactions from a few chapters ago.

After all, his initial reaction to having been in that monster form & coming out of it was trying to hide from everyone.

And I think everyone helping him put things in perspective here contributes to how he is able to present himself as king. They assure him that he is accepted, despite having just been seen by EVERYONE at his Peak "Weird Monster Guy" mode.

Highlighting what Marcille says here especially:

Going out to "face them with a smile" is EXACTLY what he does. Not right away. He's still pretty stressed in the following scene in this chapter. But he is able to face the crowds with a smile, eventually...

As king. Dressed in the memory of his most vulnerable moments, the most honest expression of his desire.

BUT I'M GETTING A LITTLE AHEAD OF MYSELF. Before the King Laios speech, there's a little moment with Marcille I want to highlight, because...

Did y'all know that by the end of the manga, Marcille isn't like... grossed out by eating monsters any more? Or at least, she's definitely changed her reaction to it. It's Namari who makes the "yeah it smells good despite what it is" comment, not Marcille.

We even get shots later of Tansu, Shuro, and Kabru being kinda grossed out by - but still going ahead and eating - the different Falin foods. Chilchuck also throws out a line about it being surprised that it's good.

But there's no disparaging comment from Marcille, despite the Everything of the situation. I just think that's also a nice little detail. She may not be as far in the monster eating game as Laios, but she's more willing to roll with the weirdness.

So after this little moment, this is when Laios comes out in his new regal outfit. And first of all...

This is such a good contrast to the moment when the group goes to save Marcille in chapter 84. The monsters had stopped attacking, and everyone's reactions to Laios and the others framed him as unsettling. Creepy. Maybe even traitors.

They even use some of the same labels (lord of the monsters/lord of the dungeon, dark lord/demon king)., but the context is that they are disgusted. The parallels in this manga....

Have a tendency to destroy me. What a difference in reception.

Anyway, after this moment, Laios stops to talk to the group... and I'd like to point out again: MARCILLE ISN'T FLIPPANT HERE EITHER!!

Chilchuck is still Chilchuck, of course, and I want to be clear I love that, too. Chilchuck is who he is to his core. His little jabs are very affectionate in this chapter.

But Marcille... Marcille only points to the Winged Lion symbol as being weird, not the monster bits. And like, considering what she's just been through with the lion, being skeptical of that part is... fair.

(don't get me wrong, her "that's fine and all" isn't exactly excitement. BUT the point I'm trying to make is less about her completely changing her feelings & preferences. It's more about how she expresses them, and how she treats Laios and HIS feelings & preferences)

And she continues to be so encouraging!! Wah!! Like, despite, all four of these people definitely caring about Laios, it's Marcille specifically who tells him to relax and just be honest. And you know what? I think that's what Falin would have said, too.

Please also note how cute everyone's little faces are in the crowd:

(see, Chilchuck loves him too!! Look at that fond face, and the cheer. and Senshi! and Namari! They really are such a family)

Laios' short speech actually has a little bit I'd like to highlight as well, since I think it is a nice little reflection of his choice to keep the lion insignia on his new outfit:

"Eat to your heart's content," he says. Not just "enjoy," or "let's eat."

Dunmeshi does such a wonderful job of framing so much about the Winged Lion with nuance, and this is a good example of that. Desire is not bad! Craving and consuming is beautiful. As Laios says when explaining the lion insignia...

It's not just something to get rid of.

So then... on to the feast!

And not only does Marcille not express any grossed out feelings, as I mentioned before... she even helps to gross out Chilchuck!!

Her weird girl powers are only just in their infancy. She will only grow more powerful in time...

As the feast goes on of course we get the group's realization about her hair, and I'd like to point out:

I really feel like they have such similar reactions to finding out about how the other has been affected by the Winged Lion

Just... the quiet concern. Not making a huge fuss, but... worried. Understanding. A little heartbroken for each other.

SPEAKING OF HEARTBROKEN REACTIONS THOUGH. WHAT COMES NEXT REALLY GETS ME.

After Chilchuck braids Marcille's hair for her, the topic of her needing to leave everyone comes up and...

God, these expressions. Every Time I see these panels I think about about what Laios saw in her nightmare. Her fears. The weight of inevitable loneliness, and the way it has marked her. As much as Marcille tries to keep things light when talking about it, he knows what this means to her. And it HURTS.

So he doesn't accept it. But do you notice how he frames this. Do you see. Not "do you want me to fix this." Not "hey I have an idea."

"Would you be willing to stay."

He doesn't know whether she will accept. Whether she will hate the idea, actually, of staying here with him. He's putting himself out there fully prepared for rejection & dismissal, as he has faced many times before.

But his pitch, his proposal to her, it's not JUST an excuse to ask her to stay, either. He's put thought into this. Into what Marcille could mean and do here. Not just to and for him, but for the people of this area. The place he has taken responsibility for.

He's also thinking about Falin. And about all the other little girls, the people of all sorts, just like her. He's thinking about the people who have been killed (burned at the stake???), hurt, shunned. About the people who have been abandoned. The people who are still alone.

He's not just offering Marcille an out from her isolation, he's offering her a new purpose. A new way to continue her work, to do the things she cares about. He SEES her! he understands her.

BUT ALSO HE'S SO NERVOUS OUGH. FIDDLING WITH THE PLATE. UNSURE IF SHE WILL CARE. UNSURE IF HE HAS IT RIGHT.

HE'S NOT GOOD WITH PEOPLE HE'S NOT GOOD AT THIS.

BUT THEY UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER. AND SHE WANTS THIS LIFE HE'S OFFERING HER.

Still... it's not that simple for her, even if for a moment she is swept up in how much she wants this.

Again here, Marcille is working so hard to be chill about the whole 'going west with the elves' thing. She looks absolutely devastated in the first panel, but puts on a smile in the second.

Maybe she doesn't want to bring down the mood. Maybe she doesn't want to burden everyone with what seems like the only option she has. Maybe she had already accepted the cost that might come with bringing Falin back. Maybe after everything with the Winged Lion, she doesn't want to risk letting herself fight for her desires too hard.

But hey. Desires aren't always bad. They aren't something to just get rid of.

A small bit of visual storytelling here... I love that Marcille is confined by the panel, but Laios is stepping outside of it. He's literally pulling her outside of the box she feels trapped in.

Also, I love that his first acts as king are:

1) welcome everyone to a big feast

2) stand by his friend and help her find happiness

It's great stuff and it's so Laios.

In addition to that, I love how this whole act actually plays out. I love that, while getting the elves to let Marcille go, he gets to be extremely cool and protective...

but also like. Not THAT cool and protective.

No really, I mean it! I think it's important! It's important that cool 'suave king guy Laios' is a front he puts up when he needs to deal with these strangers, and one that he completely drops once it's just him and Marcille.

He's not trying to impress her, or convince her he's cool and suave. Why would he? He trusts that she's okay with the messy, often unimpressive, sometimes kinda gross reality of who he is.

And isn't that what Dungeon Meshi is all about? Messy, unimpressive, gross reality. And how beautiful, how wonderful, how very precious it is

Especially when you get to share it with your friends.

[fumifooms]

Quick Falin analysis. Congrats on her going along with her loved ones’ wishes becoming explicitly canon and not subtext btw!

Thinking of it, becoming a chimera and literally being puppeteered around by the will of the dungeon and its lord is such an… Explicit visualization of her demeanor in life of letting others’ wants and whims dictate what she does and where she goes. Shows the most extreme & worst version of it, of where that could lead her down the road. Dunmeshi loves often showing that with everyone, with the winged lion warping even the most selfless well-intentioned desire into something intense and destructive.

If Faligon is her retreating into that comfortable role of just on-pilot mode following what others want, that’d be an interesting angle too. Because we see like with the dragons fight at Thistle’s house that the monsters CAN act rebellious, meanwhile Falin was just so on board with the commands she got ever since she got transformed.

Chimera Falin doesn’t have a strong will? Oof

I do also think that Thistle is something that her nursing reflexes latch onto easily, when it comes to comforting and protecting others. It’s unsure how much of her is dormant as Faligon, or how being bound to the dungeon and the dungeon lord’s will affects her, but it’s undeniable that she acts with care when it comes to Thistle. On one hand, she fights ferociously for him, when protecting him or even just sent out to scout, but you can’t really say she’s being assertive either, not when she doesn’t complain or act when he eats all the berries and she’s hungry. She’s still that silent, sidelined guardian, only now very, very literal.

I never bought the angle that chimera Falin mostly represented her repressed anger at the world personally, like yes now she’s loud and big and imperfect, but again, socially she falls into the same pitfalls, it’s just that now she’s top dog, below just one person, and so she’s allowed to be aggressive with everyone else. If anything, it’s the dragon soul pushing her to want more, making her act out, giving her a taste of how it feels to be powerful, carefree and impossible to oversee, but it couldn’t be called catharsis I think. In general, she seems more passive with a "as long as I have what I love, everything else can go burn for all I care" mentality rather than actively(or repressedly) angry to me. Not that she couldn’t have complex feelings over being lonely and cast out either of course, but personally I never got the sense that she resents the world or society at large. I do feel like the dogs treating her like she was at the bottom of the hierarchy also shaped her a lot

Not only cast out by other kids and classmates, but also treated as someone that can be disrespected and roughened up by the dogs at home. She was really pushed into that go with the flow, make yourself scarce and quiet attitude. She’s never really been allowed to hope for better, or to have a dream of her own, her life path being decided for her by others. Besides with Laios, everything she learned everywhere in group dynamics was that she was at the bottom and should be content with whatever others gave her. Maybe that’s why she was so forgiving of her parents too, because at least, to some degree they did care and didn’t want to cut contact, and she takes what she can get.

Thank you @thatsmimi for the fantranslation of the new leaked content, the opening and ending pictures in this post. Their original post about it is here, and as mentioned it is not the official translation.

[possamble]

farcille postcanon characterization warmup that got way out of hand. beware, here be spoilers, dragoncock, and bottoming as an extreme sport.

~~~

Marcille has always loved Falin’s voice. Soft, high, airy and girlish—it was always as gentle as the rest of her, even in the midst of pitched combat. When things went to hell in a handbasket, it was always Falin’s whispery incantations that kept Marcille grounded as blood and monster guts sailed through the air. 

And that hasn’t changed. No amount of dragon could really change that, Marcille thinks. Yes, she she has moments when her voice becomes rough and ragged and guttural, mostly when she’s swinging her mace or her fists, or gritting her teeth through a monster claw stuck into her side. But maybe that urge to growl was always there, and she’s just finally able to voice it now. Marcille finds that she’s loud at times she would have been silent before—grunting with exertion when she would have grimaced quietly, singing some nonsense melody over a mundane task when she would have hummed it under her breath—and that’s a good thing.

But otherwise, nothing has changed. Falin’s voice is as delicate as ever, chiming in a lilting giggle behind a dainty gesture of her hand. Rustling like pages of well-loved books as she casts her protective wards, or ponders over how to cook a new monster, or murmurs right into Marcille’s ear while she…

Well. While she’s got Marcille bent over her own desk with her nightgown pooled at her ankles. Marcille’s not sure if it’s rude or considerate that she didn’t get a chance to dress herself before she had a girthy cock shoved up her cunt first thing in the morning. 

“Marcille,” Falin whispers, unfairly shaky as if she’s the one getting fucked within an inch of her life. She’s mouthing at Marcille’s neck, draped over her and pressing as close as possible in every way, gripping Marcille’s hands tight and keening like she’s found heaven between her legs. “Marcille, Marcille…” 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she gets to do that, that she gets to sound like that—with that sweet voice she’s always had, now making obscene little noises that are still whispery fine and almost ethereal coming from her mouth. These quiet, barely voiced sighs that puff against Marcille’s ear, the dulcet moans that thrum against her skin, and that demure little gasp when she thrusts a little harder and somehow finds even more space inside Marcille to bottom out in—

“Marcille…” she whimpers like she’s in pain, on the verge of tears, fingers tight between Marcille’s as they grip the edge of the rattling desk together. “You feel—so good, oh… You’re”—another moan buried just behind her ear—"so wet, so good…” 

It’s not like Marcille got the chance to be anything else right now, did she? Not when Falin fell upon her just as she was sorting through her documents, pressed against her back and already unfastening the clasps of her gown and slipping it off her shoulders. She was fully naked before she even got a playful good morning whispered into her ear—it’s a miracle she had the forethought to push her papers out of the way just before Falin had her wrapped around her finger in the most literal sense. 

Well. Fingers in the plural, really, since she always starts with two. Usually while pawing at Marcille’s tit with her other hand until her stupid knees give out and she ends up buckling over whatever surface is nearby—in this case, her desk, mercifully free of any uncapped inkwells at the moment. Now slathered with sweat that makes her tits slip and slide along the wooden varnish, of course, but otherwise non-disastrous. 

Hopefully her nightgown is catching most of the mess running down her thighs, or she’s going to have to make the most humiliating request to the castle staff about her carpets for the third time this month—

“Yes…!” Falin digs her heels in and fucks her even harder, taken with some kind of mindless momentum all of a sudden. “I love you,” she pants in that stupid—feathery, daisy-light tone that has no business being this sweet while she’s ravaging Marcille like this— “you’re perfect, you’re perfect—” 

Marcille’s going to die like this. This is how she’s going to go: Bleating like an animal with her cheek stuck to her desk with drool, eyes just permanently rolled back in her head, toes barely touching the floor as Falin keeps fucking her further onto the desk. She hasn’t said a single coherent word since her second orgasm however many minutes ago, just broken into an endless stream of guttural noises as her cunt slobbers and squelches around Falin’s cock almost as loudly as she’s wailing. 

“Marcille,” Falin keens, sounding like a bashful princess ravished to breathlessness—just something straight out of a high-minded erotica novel—all while hammering Marcille into the desk at a shallow, breakneck pace. “You feel—feel s–o good, you’re perfect, oh—oh, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, I love you, I love you—” 

For the love of—fuck. Marcille can distantly hear herself scream, can feel the desk digging into her as she flails, her grasp on sanity getting thinner and thinner with each word that tumbles out of Falin’s mouth and shoots straight through her nerves. She’s—good god, she’s not usually this talkative. It’s almost always Marcille begging and blabbering about how much she wants Falin’s cock, how good it feels, how she wants it harder and faster and more, screaming and crying Falin’s name over and over—

But now, in the absence of Marcille’s pathetic yapping—after she’s already fucked the words out of Marcille so thoroughly—Falin’s taken it upon herself to murmur a stream of honeyed nonsense into her ear, her frail and gentle voice breaking with desperation—and fuck, it’s not fair.

“Yes, yes, oh—” Falin sobs into her neck. “I love it—I love it when you sound like this, I love you—you’re so good, so good for me, my Marcille—” 

No, no, no, she can’t do that, she can’t do that—she can’t say that, in that voice, while her cock is so deep in Marcille there’s hardly room for anything else, battering all her nerve endings and rearranging her so that there’s nothing left but her, Falin, Falin—

“Ah!” Falin cries out, like she’s the one getting reamed against her stupid fucking desk so hard she can barely breathe— “Yes, please, please—please say my name again!” 

Well. She can beg all she fucking wants, but it’s not going to be pretty and she has no one to blame but herself—it’s her fault Marcille can hardly speak, it’s her fault her name is only coming in rough wails with both syllables separated with heaving, crying breaths. Marcille gives it her all, scrapes whatever intelligence she has left to speak, and sounds like a dying animal in a way that can’t possibly be anything but hideous to listen to—

And still, Falin sobs, as if in utter ecstasy as she fucks Marcille so hard the desk starts scraping along the floor in harsh jumps. 

“Yes, yes—ah—” Her voice, not so whispery gentle now but still so melodious and clear, sounding out from deep in her chest— “I—love—you—” she weeps, punctuated by the hard slams of the desk against the floor as she drops the rapid pace in favor of mercilessly hard thrusts— “Beautiful—perfect—mine!” 

Then she finally, finally comes—not that it stops her, not with how she thrusts with every spurt. Like she’s not just satisfied with letting it spill out, like she needs to fuck it into Marcille with all her strength, once, twice, then one last time, stuffing her cunt absolutely full with searing heat—

And Marcille doesn’t even realize she’s coming until she’s unceremoniously ejected out the other side of the high, that telltale swoop of vertigo rushing through her veins. The orgasm doesn't even have the grace to let her go limp with afterglow, of course, and she’s left there convulsing and twitching like a drowning fish. With her jaw pressed to the desk, she can actually hear her teeth chatter from how hard she’s shaking, Falin’s warm weight on her be damned. 

(One day. One day, she’ll stop embarrassing herself like this—one day she’ll finish like a normal person during sex, instead of going off like a cheap firework every half hour and wringing an orgasm out of herself as soon as she feels Falin finish inside her, whether or not she even had one left in her to begin with.) 

“M-Marcille,” Falin stammers, her voice breathless but now shy and girlish again as she slowly untangles their hands. “Are you—are you okay?” 

The gall. To ask her that, when she’s nothing but a sweaty carcass slung over her desk, still twitching erratically. To be so gentle as she straightens up and kisses the back of her neck, tenderly brushing her hair to the side as she pulls out ever so slowly—

And still. Not. Slowly. Enough—apparently! Not with the sparks that explode in Marcille’s eyes again, utterly unclear if this is another orgasm or just a particularly brutal aftershock! She just goes squeaking and shaking and sliding off the desk onto her knees, hands clapped over her cunt like they’re going to protect her from the lightning racing up and down her spine. She doesn’t even know where she landed, really, convulsing and closing her thighs around her hand as cum and slick drools into her palms, falling forward and— and smacking her head against the edge of her desk.

“Oh!” Feathered arms clasp around her before she can slide past the wood with her sweaty forehead and land on her face. “Careful—are you okay?” 

The gall. The audacity. The—something, or whatever, fuck, Marcille doesn’t even care anymore. Her head throbs with an oncoming bruise, she can’t feel her legs, she can feel her pussy way too much, and it’s a wonder she hasn’t fallen apart on the spot—

“Okay… let’s…” There’s some maneuvering going on, but hell if Marcille can actually tell what Falin’s doing. “Here, let’s take a bath—I’ll go draw some water.” 

Marcille whines, because no—she doesn’t know where she is, she just twists until her face finds feathers and buries herself there. She even manages to bring one cum-covered hand to grip at the quils, because this mess is Falin’s fault and if she doesn't like it then she can wash it off herself—but she’s not allowed to leave. 

A little chuckle under her breath—and it’s so fucking cute and girlish like she hasn’t just demolished a full grown woman to the brink of unconsciousness, but Marcille can’t even find it in herself to be mad. Falin can ask her whatever the hell she wants, do whatever the hell she wants, so long as she doesn’t let go. 

“I’m bringing you with me, I promise,” Falin whispers so tenderly, pressing a kiss to Marcille’s head. There’s arms tightening around her back and under her knees, and she feels herself being lifted. “I wouldn’t leave you like that…” 

Better not, Marcille grumbles to herself. Not sure if it made it past her mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Falin’s going to take responsibility for turning her morning into—into this, even if it means having to draw some bathwater with an elf clinging to her the entire time. She’s going to be the one to wash her off, bring her their missed breakfast, and tell everyone why she wasn’t there at the morning meeting—

Maybe not that last part. 

“I’m sorry,” she hears, in that soft and whispery tone she’s loved for so many years. That voice that didn’t change, even with everything that happened—everything that Marcille did to her, and it’s—

It would be so, incredibly stupid if she started crying out of nowhere. 

“Liar,” she whines, digging the indignant annoyance back up to pout like a spoiled brat. “You liked… every second…” 

Another giggle that so infuriatingly lovely. “I did.” The sound of a squeaky valve turning, then rushing water that slaps against stone. “Did you?” 

Marcille just grumbles again and clings even tighter. Falin just laughs a little louder and strokes her hair, too kind to demand an answer in so many words—or, perhaps, impishly content to let Marcille incriminate herself with her silence, as she so often does.

[holmsister]

As for Shuro/Toshiro... lemme see if I can put this coherently. The long and short of it is, this is Ryoko Kui doing the thing she does in which she uses the dungeon as a neutral background in which characters with different ideas can clash and come to terms with each other. We're not supposed to side with Toshiro, but we are not supposed to side with Laios, really, mostly because there is no "right" and "wrong" here.

A character who is heavily coded as autistic and comes from a northern europe coded culture (low-context - information is supposed to be conveyed in the most straightforward and clear way possible, even when said way is considered rude) meets another character who is extremely shy and comes from a japan coded culture (high context - info is supposed to be inferred by a mix of behaviour and conversational allusion, maintaining peaceful interpersonal relationships takes precedent over efficiency).

Neither of them are inherently wrong in the way they approach the other. Yes, Toshiro shouldve said something, but he doesn't know how. He was not taught how to handle someone like Laios. Conversely, Laios was not taught how to read between the lines and understand what a person is trying to convey if they are not speaking directly.

Since Laios is the main protagonist and we see most of the story from his POV, and also since most people on this website are American (low context culture), its easy for people to assume we are supposed to side with him. But I don't think that's the author's intention at all. Remember - Kui is Japanese writing for a primarily Japanese audience. From THEIR POV Toshiro's behaviour is perfectly understandable. It's also worth noting that there is a lot of extra material that gives further context to the Toshiro/Laios relationship.

One of the main points, for example, is how Laios gets Toshiro's name wrong. When they first met, Toshiro is immediately an object of curiosity to Laios BECAUSE he is a foreigner from a faraway land. Laios immediately invites himself to become his friend and starts asking question after question. When he finally remembers he's supposed to ask for Toshiro's name, he misunderstands it as Shuro, and Toshiro is too shy to correct him. "Renaming" the foreign side character for the benefit of the Western main character is an extremely loaded symbolic choice from Robinson Crusoe's Friday onward. I am not aware of the particular history of this trope in Japanese literature, but other elements of Toshiro's story suggest that renaming in his culture is something that is often done to slaves. Ryoko Kui is generally very deliberate about details like these. I highly doubt this is a random choice.

Of course Laios does not do it on purpose and Toshiro understands this and decides to let it slide, but its still something hurtful that Laios does to another person without even realising that hes doing it. This is a type of mistake he does often and he will do again across the story.

Again. Not saying Toshiro is perfectly right either, but there is a reason why they finish the meeting on relatively decent terms - because they BOTH recognise how they went wrong.

Toshiro realises that he needs to be more direct and determined about what he wants, but this is a reality check for Laios as well. He has been able to coast by so far in the dungeon without giving much thought to other people's wants and needs, thanks to the help of friends who care for him and are willing to follow him, but the story is changing pace and scale. Soon he might have to make some difficult decisions that involve the life and death of others. He needs to learn to listen.

This is why the Toshiro confrontation happens in the same span where we see Chimera!Falin going on a rampage, and Kabru trying to establish a friendship with Laios to assess what kind of person he is. Several narrative threads are coming to a head - the conflict with Toshiro is the tangible result of the tensions we saw around Laios' uncaring attitude from the beginning.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

I haven’t thought of Lily Orchard in years, but she just made a video on dungeon meshi and I wanted to hear what she had to say. I couldn’t even finish it.

It’s clear she hates anime as a genre and is pissed about having to review something she didn’t want to watch, and that anger permeates the whole* review. On top of that, it’s so fucking disingenuous to review a show that’s not even halfway over and then claim it’s thematically disjointed - like 1. Of course it’ll seem that way if you’ve only seen the first quarter of a piece of work, we’re still in the setting up stage, these themes haven’t had time to fully commingle and resolve and 2. Even considering that, dungeon meshi does actually know what it is/where it’s going, and at this point it’s fairly obvious how all the themes/mixed genera’s are gonna fit together.**

*to be fair, I haven’t seen the entire review, so maybe she calms down partway through. I don’t make a habit of watching things I know will upset me, and watching someone make bad faith criticism of something I like would literally ruin my week

Post chapter 65 spoilers below:

**Granted, cookings prominence in the show, while cute*** on its own, didn’t really seem plot relevant to me until around chapter 65 when it was revealed that in order to save falin they would have to eat her dragon half. Y’all, I went fucking feral over that reveal.

***cute meaning: it’s used mostly for worldbuilding at first. That’s really cool if you’re into it, and an integral part of the story ryoko kui is telling, but not technically necessary in every story. There are plenty of storys who spend needless time expositing about the world instead of focusing on the interesting bits, and if you’re only a quarter of the way into DM, I can see how you might think that this is one of those cases.

But obviously, as time passes, the worldbuilding aspects become more important, because the entire show is about worldbuilding. Or more accurately, it’s a deconstruction of the fantasy genera. It spends time setting up familiar tropes and then examines how those tropes would actually play out in a realistic world, setting up and then questioning our expectations for the world in a really nuanced way.

My favorite example of this is how dungeon meshi treats dark/ancient magic.

1. The words ‘dark magic’ and ‘dark elf’ have negative but vague connotations in traditional fantasy. “The thing is bad because it is bad.” It’s a fact we’re primed to believe, but shallow and easy to question

2. We learn that marcille uses dark magic, but that she’s using it for good. “Actually dark magic is forbidden because the people in power were afraid of The Plebs and want to restrict the populaces access to knowledge” is also a common fantasy trope.

3. As we learn more about dungeons and how they intertwine with dark magic, we learn that it does truly have the power to end the world. Not by itself, but because the dimension it pulls power from is populated by beings who would use that bridge of power to enter our world and cause havoc. Holy shit, we think, black magic is actually dangerous and was banned for a reason. Naming it ‘black’ was part of a smear campaign intended to save the public by dissuading them from using it

4. And then we learn that the so called catastrophe scenario has never happened, no demon has ever escaped a dungeon and successfully ended the world. Is this because of the work of the Canaries and ppl like them, or are demons perhaps not as much of a threat as they are made out to be?

And it’s great because there is no one correct answer. We learn things through the characters, whose perspectives are limited and realistic and based on their own life experience. Nobody knows the whole story, and neither do we.

[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 14 Part 3

Eat or be eaten. There is no hierarchy. Eating is, quite simply, the exclusive privilege of the living.

Come on, it's time to eat! What shall we have today?

I think the real takeaway from Dungeon Meshi is that cannibalism is a firm "maybe".

Slurp!

I remember seeing a post a while ago about Dungeon Meshi being fatphobic, and while I kinda see where they're coming from, I don't really agree. It's not exactly controversial to advocate for healthy eating and moderate exercise. While the body types could be a bit more diverse, especially in the main cast, Kui clearly has respect for people of various body types. Have you seen some of the daydream hour stuff?

They know him so well. Chilchuck in particular I think understands best. After all, his succubus becomes what he most desires, but it isn't what he wants.

I love this grumpy old gnome who spits nothing but facts.

This whole sequence is very nice.

So, I know this isn't literal, but do you think Falin would have been able to fully expel the dragon's soul? But even if she could, she chose kindness instead. And that's really nice.

I wonder what the demon thinks about all this. Has it actually learned any sort of lesson from all this? Either way, it at least seems to be taking its defeat as graciously as one would hope.

A precious image. It's all been leading up to this.

So, all the changes I've noticed. First, she has feathers covering most of her body. Some haven't grown in yet, but the coverage seems to match her chimera form, leaving her hands, feet, head, and tummy bare. She has large canines. She might have enhanced strength, though she was known for bashing heads in before her transformation too, so it's hard to tell. She also has normal eyesight, as opposed to her previous nearsightedness.

God, she is just like me.

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?!

Everyone loves pizza.

I still say familiars are the best solution. He can both make his own monsters, and observe real monsters through the eyes of his creations.

Oh, quit your bellyaching. A quick detox spell will have you right as rain.

An adorable image, and a fitting ending for an amazing manga.

Of course, it isn't quite over yet.

Glad to see she's doing well. Cat's would totally do this if they could talk.

This is so cute. Just like when you were in school!

Was it ever established what the heck living armor eats? Most shelled mollusks rely mostly on filter feeding, but that doesn't work so well in a terrestrial environment. Then again, we know monsters can supplement their diet with mana, and the mana in this dungeon awakens Kensuke later, so maybe they're super efficient to the point that they only need mana. And iron.

I love these dumbasses.

An important image.

Have I mentioned I love the dynamic these guys have?

One final precious image to end things off. What are the odds his wife is just off-screen?

Thanks to everyone who joined me for this tasty journey. I still have some other stuff cooking, so stay tuned! The Laios Got Eaten AU might be a bit. I'm struggling to figure out how they defeat Thistle or the Demon without Laios. I also have another AU I might write involving an OC. We'll see.

Have a great day, and may all your Meshi be Dungeon.

[autumnfangirler]

WIP Wednesday

its actually wednesday when i post this guys, its a christmas miracle. i got ganged up on by @hyper-pixels @localcryptic and @b33tlejules for my wips 😔 im gonna tag @heartbreakincident @idlenight @aurrieattorney and @musicismymoirail if yall want?

ive mostly got writing wips so far, i havent had as much time to work on art lately :') but! have these:

Chen: “Huh,” Ricardo says, looking at him thoughtfully as he starts heating up the leftovers. “Shouldn’t you be at home by now then? You always said training with Herald wore you out.” He shuffles enough to sneak a mournful glance at the microwave. Whether or not Caine notices is anybody’s guess. He just looks over his shoulder– the first time he’s acknowledged Chen’s presence. Ortega: “Huh.” Ortega takes the chance to shift closer, watching his leftovers heating up. Internally, he smiles. Prick. “Shouldn’t you be at home by now then? You always said training with Herald wore you out.” He never bought Caine’s complaints, of course. He still remembers the brutal efficiency Lycan had taken Daniel down with at the gala. At the very least, Caine was exaggerating how winded he was. Caine: “Huh. Shouldn’t you be at home by now then?” Ortega asks, moving next to them. “You always said training with Herald wore you out.” That wasn’t a lie. They never specified whether it was physically or not, and their head still aches.

this is the multipov fic i keep talking about, its probably one of my favourite, most indulgent fics ive worked on so far. look at these idiots. so many thoughts running through their head 24/7 and all of them are wrong. utterly fantastic to watch i love it so much.

also the rat king!! my girls!!!

this bit technically counts as spoilers for dunmeshi. i think. im gonna put it under the cut anyway since idk whos currently watching/reading it hsdjjf

"Your spell book," he says. The words are quiet, eyes boring into her bag. "What?" "Your spell book," he repeats, louder this time, nearly slipping on the blood as he takes a staggering leg up. "You've revived people using black magic before. You can do it again." "It's not bla- I mean, we don't have-" She chews on her lip. "... I don't have a spell for this. It only worked on Falin because we were in a dungeon. This is..."

some very rough dialogue for a fic i probably wont finish about marcille waking chilchuck up from a nightmare. ive seen versions of it with laios and falin, but i think with marcilles whole everything going on there her having to deal with chilchucks nightmare would be really interesting to explore. also because i miss marcille and chilchuck. my beloveds.....

[madraleen]

Delicious in Dungeon - Ryōko Kui Vol.12-14: A commentary wherein the word "sweet" is said one too many times.

-"marcille, mushrooms don't have flowers!!" ahaha laios <3

-oooh, the demons share memories, that's why lion knows mithrun, okay

-nice, nice, i like how laios is reacting to marcille, "forcing the whole world to eat a menu you designed"

-marcille in her villainess outfit

-i can't be mad at marcille for hurting mithrun 'cause in her view he did the same to her, but like... be careful, guys, okay? let's not go too far.

-marcille blew mithrun's head off?? ffs, where are our healers. but she's effectively killed someone, still.

-no she's killing ALL of the canaries, omg, marcille

-hello, flamela, th... that's a lot of canaries, wow

-IS ANYONE HEALING AROUND HERE!

-"if the red dragon hadn't eaten falin back then, we would never have had such a great adventure!" that is so true and so sad

-CAPTAIN MITHRUN IS BAAACK

-NO GUYS! WE JUST SAID THE DEMON CAN'T BE DEFEATED WITH WEAPONS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DON'T BELIEVE THAT, THAT'S NOT LAIOS KILLING THE LION!

-clever girl, izutsumi. clever girl.

-IS FLAMELA KICKING MITHRUN TO STOP HIM FROM BITCH-SLAPPING KABRU EVEN MORE? ahahaha. although, i mean, in an inappropriate mithrun-way, him bitch-slapping kabru shows he actually pays attention to kabru...? because otherwise he wouldn't bother. he hasn't been bothered to personally interact with anyone in particular during the battle, aside from giving orders.

-this image of infinitely spawning laioses might just be kabru's nightmare, i think. too bad he's not seeing it

-THISTLEEE, lil bb is back. on yaad's back.

-the only person in this entire story that knows how to treat mithrun is kabru. the one person.

-awww, mithrun grabbed kabru's hand, got up and said "okay" to eating, resting and searching for a new desire, bless. aww, the canaries are happy about it, bless them too.

-bb mithrun is crying :( and of course it's kabru that sees it <3

-oh bless senshi and his vegetable scraps assist. and mithrun's smiling now :) oh no he's actually laughing. SHUT UP, HE'S CRYING-LAUGHING, "that's... good to hear," I LOVE HIM

-laios said "feel free to keep eating" and mithrun took it to heart, bless. eat your faligon, bb, attaboy

-'scuse you. did thistle just die? NOOo! well, he got his happy ending i guess. his wish to see delgan. and “delgan” took his burden off of him and thanked him, allowing to go peacefully. I GUESS! it makes sense, but ARGH, THISTLE, MY LIL BB ELF WHYYY :'( why did he have to be the one casualty :'( i know, i know. the lion had taken too much out of him, he'd twisted himself too much into who he had to become to protect the kingdom, he was spent and so on. still. THISTLE! :"( a sweet send-off though. with a little smile. peaceful.

-aww, it's sweet how laios leaves kensuke and his armor in a dungeon

-OH YAY, a year later yaad and his people are alive and all!

-aah, everyone meeting chil's daughters!!

-okay, so defeating the lion demon defeated all demons of all dungeons, right? and now there's only natural dungeons?

-a sweet ending for sure. it wraps things up nicely, with no significant loose ties to speak of.

-i like that people weren't left unscathed and came out changed, either emotionally like mithrun, kabru or marcille, or physically like falin, or both like laios. i would have liked to see marcille's reaction at thistle dying, considering she'd said she wanted to thank him for saving her life. i’d also have liked to see a reaction from marcille at having killed the canaries that one time.

-the fun part is going along on an adventure with a diverse cast in a cool world. that adventure vibe comes off so deliciously (hehe).

-the addictive part for me is mithrun and kabru, mostly when they're together. a kabumisu shipper, obv.

-now that all's said and done i can safely say, my faves are mithrun, thistle and kabru. i also have a soft spot for pattadol; she's sweet, she tries. i have soft spots for the canaries in general, they're fascinating.

[bi-hop]

faliiiiinnnnnnnn

Falin!

How I feel about this character: it's actually kinda funny upon further reflection that she's one of my favorite characters. because I reread dungeon meshi a lot (just random chapters) to try and absorb the dialogue and she's barely present? Obviously, she haunts the text, and chimera!Falin shows up pretty regularly, but her herself? barely there! mostly post-canon! she rocks though to be clear.

I think what I like most about her is how the person viewing her subtly shapes what we expect from her. I remember being somewhat surprised she was so cordial with her parents still, as Marcille was, because even though Laios acknowledged the possibility of her not being as strongly affected by their upbringing, I didn't actually believe that would be the case. I enjoy that all of her loved ones have these lens on that mean you do get to see Falin, but almost always through these curtains of bias first. I don't know what it means for me that part of why I like her is because of getting to peel back that curtain every so often. LMAO

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Farcille, for starters, which I won't dwell on. basically everyone loves it. LET'S TALK OTHER STUFF!!!!

if I had a nickel for every time I wrote Asivia falling for a lady despite being at Laios' court in post-canon presumably to 'try again', I'd have two nickels. this is becoming a funny trend. anyway won't mention the other fic but I have this general idea for Asivia having an interest in dragoness Falin that no one really picks up on because I like mess. I still don't really know if I want the interest to be reciprocated or not. but I think Asivia is neat. I support women trying to get money out of guys, even if said guy is my fave. enough about Laios though. in terms of attraction, I think it's mostly a matter of beauty and power as the starting point. that might sound not genuine, but I think the draw of the power part of Falin is a fascination with the freedom she now represents and embodies. I dunno though, I've basically invented Asivia in my head.

there's also Rin, which I can only express this way

no one sees my vision though

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Laios (I wish good big brothers were real) of course. Marcille also. I think those are the main ones. That isn't to diminish her bond with any other character, just OTP is a big weighty term to me and those are the dynamics I've dwelled on the most. I should change that though bc Chilchuck calling her strange (if I recall right) in his relationship map (or hers?) was funny to me. you did all that for a girl you think is weird? aight, grump grump

My unpopular opinion about this character: she should have killed more people actually-

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: my dream... my sole dream... is a random ass bonus thing that's 'Falin's traveling journal' a la Senshi's journal and we get to see countries in the dungeon meshi world that weren't named and life is good. life is so good. my final message. gootbye

[yurisorcerer]

For the second time this week, I tried to turn my notes on an anime episode into an actual article for my site but couldn't get it to cohere well enough. So you guys get it instead, hopefully you enjoy it regardless.

Usually when I talk about the inherent pacing differences between an anime and a manga, it's to complain, but this episode is a pretty astounding example of an anime production intentionally exploiting those differences to make certain emotional beats hit harder.

To recap; in a manga, you are able to read at your own pace. Some people breeze through manga, some people go out of their way to savor every page, but because you're restricted to your visual senses and their interpretation of ink-on-paper, there's a lot of imaginative work going on on your end. Anime, just by its nature, inherently eases that burden a little bit. You've got an aural component to soak in (not present in a manga), and the visuals move with motion and color, something also absent in the still page. This is the entire artistic reason that anime adaptations of manga exist at all. Done well, they can selectively enhance certain emotional currents of the work. If done very well, they can do so without displacing the original work itself. That's what the Dungeon Meshi anime accomplishes here. Anything else aside, that's pretty impressive.

Seeing Marcille and Laios assemble the grim puzzle of Falin's blood-soaked and half-digested skeleton is one thing on the printed page. Those pages are very effective in their original format, but the scene is transformed here, because we really have no choice but to stew in it. The medium forces us to slow down and really focus on what they're doing; clicking bones together piece by piece, soaking their hands in dragonblood and gore. In Marcille's case, her actual spellcasting is brought into a deep crimson technicolor. The anime's presentation really makes it hit home; she is bleeding onto the ground, chanting ancient, forbidden magic in a desperate bid to bring Falin back from the grave. Laios' emotional state shouldn't be undersold either, as fascinated as he is by the actual act of assembling the skeletons, the moment Falin finally does return to life, she and her older brother share a genuinely very sweet embrace, even as Falin herself is still quite confused as to what's going on.

About that; in the area of scenes altered by the simple fact of being in an anime, we have to talk about the bath scene. In the manga, the bath scene is full of a fair amount of ambiguity, something I'm far from the first person to take note of. The anime, of course, can't replicate that precisely, so it has to pick and choose what emotional undertones to access and which to discard. All told, I'd say the scene is adapted pretty fantastically; it's tender, full of soft colors, and it preserves the push-and-pull dynamic of Marcille and Falin's conversation pretty well. About all that can't be said is that it's a straight improvement, which, really, when you're working with source material as good as Dungeon Meshi, is not a bad thing. I think the bath scene in particular is a good locus for what works about this episode; managing such a delicate scene so well is unimaginably tough, but the team working on the series pulled it off admirably. (As a Lesbian Side Note; both Marcille and Falin look amazing here, as you'd probably expect.) There are a few notable differences; things that seem obvious but pop out if you know what you're looking for. I'm mostly thinking how Marcille's facial expressions are a lot more obviously-flustered here as opposed to the somewhat more ambiguous ones in the manga. But again, an anime has to pick what emotional currents it's going to emphasize.

There are other points to hit on; the obligate dragon-cooking scene is as great as you'd expect, and there are some great character moments between Falin and the rest of the cast. Obviously, with her brother (where he does a very Elder Brother thing by mussing her hair), but also Marcille and even Senshi. (The only one who doesn't really get in on the action is unfortunately Chilchuck.)

[scribomaniac]

The Woes of Having Neighbors, Chapter 11: New Year’s Eve Part 1

Aelin could not wait for tonight’s party. It was gonna be the party that ended all parties. It was New Year’s Eve and everyone was coming. All her closest friends, acquaintances from work, frenemies, and then some.  They’d all be here in just a few short hours.  

Just a few short hours, shit they had their work cut out for them. She’d tasked Lysandra and Aedion with procuring food and snacks for tonight; Aedion to carry it, and Lysandra to keep them on task.  Technically Aedion could’ve done it by himself, but lord knew what trouble that boy could get into unsupervised.  He’d probably blow all the money on pinatas or something.

Elide, Manon, and Asterin were in charge of cooking the food once it arrived. Or, well, Elide would cook, and Asterin and Manon would taste test and offer any necessary moral support. Why the dark eyed girl needed moral support, Aelin wasn’t entirely sure … she assumed it had to do with Lorcan, but last she’d heard, Elide had all but cussed the man out.

Lorcan Salvaterre. He’d gotten an invitation just by being Rowan’s friend, but if he were anyone else’s he’d be celebrating the night elsewhere. Aelin didn’t know the dark haired man all that well, or at all, really, but from what she’d heard from Elide and the rest of Rowan’s cadre, she didn’t like the sound of him one bit. She hoped he and Maeve would live unhappily ever after somewhere far, far away. Hell, they could even live happily together, just so long as they left Rifthold.

It’d taken a long time for Aelin to feel safe in this city, to feel comfortable, and to stop looking over her shoulder every five feet. She’d gone to great lengths to rid Rifthold of its dangers, of its nefarious underbelly. She didn’t want to have to start all over again thanks to the couple from hell.  Maeve might not seem all too dangerous, not on the outside, but Aelin knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of security because of some pretty face.

Shaking her head, Aelin dispersed those thoughts and returned to the present. Looking around the living room of her apartment, she saw Dorian and Chaol dutifully moving sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows into her guest bedroom for the guests who planned on spending the night. After they finished that task, Aelin would have them set up some cheap folding tables she’d rented and they could start setting out the snacks once Lysandra and Aedion returned.

Looking at her watch–only three hours until the party was due to start–Aelin hoped that’d be soon. She also hoped Evangeline and Nehemia returned from walking Fleetfoot before her cousin and friend. Lysandra had a nasty protective streak when it came to her younger sister, and even though she knew the young girl could take care of herself, and that Nehemia was with her–Nehemia, proud owner of a brown belt in karate–if Evangeline wasn’t back before her, the dark haired beauty would call in the national guard while simultaneously chewing Aelin’s ear out.

Just as she was about to pull her phone out and call her long time friend, Nehemia and Evangeline walked through the door following a bouncing and barking Fleetfoot. “Oh good, you’re back!”

Nehemia narrowed her eyes at Aelin, crossing her toned arms over her chest, “You weren’t worried, were you?” Suspicion coated her tone, and Aelin had to hold back a wince. Nehemia could take care of herself. Aelin knew that. Nehemia knew that Aelin knew that. But if the dark skinned woman thought Aelin was worried about her, her pride would be hurt and she’d be pissed. And a pissed Nehemia was just as bad a protective Lysandra.

God, why did she have so many willful friends?

Hands up in a classic ’don’t shoot’ fashion, Aelin gave her friend a sharp grin and reassured her. “Never,” she said, feeling some tension in her shoulders fade away when Nehemia’s smile mirrored her own. Rolling her eyes and putting her hands down, she joked, “If anything, I was worried you two had kidnapped my dog.”

Fleetfoot barked and came up to lean against her owner, silently begging for affection. Smile softening, Aelin reached down and scratched the dog behind her ears.

“One of these days, Aelin,” Evangeline called from the couch, a terribly gleeful smile on her face. “One of these days.”

Laughing, Aelin shook her head and said, “Hellion.” The young girl’s smile widened with pride before she turned and focused her attention on the TV.

“All right,” Aelin said, mostly to herself, and clapped her hands as she tried to refocus her thoughts. “What next?” The apartment was almost finished, it just needed a few more touch ups here or there, Elide would start the food once Lysandra and Aedion arrived, then there was …

“Well,” Nehemia’s voice, dryer than any desert, cut through her mind’s ramblings, “You should probably start getting ready.”

Aelin blinked at her friend once. Twice. Thrice. “What?”

Raising a brow, Nehemia’s brown eyes gave Aelin a once over. “Party’s going to start soon,” she hedged. Then with a smirk asked, “Were you really planning on wearing stained jeans and a holey t-shirt to the party?”

Aelin looked down at her clothes. Yes, they were shoddy, but they were her pre-party clothes! She’d change, obviously. She double checked her watch. She still had plenty of time. “I’ll get ready soon, it won’t take long.”

Snorting, Nehemia cocked her head to the side and asked, “Really, Aelin? Remember the last time you said that? I think it was junior year, and–”

A blush with the heat to rival the fire of Brannon, Aelin squawked and headed for her room, “Okay, fine! You win! I’m going!”

Turned out, Nehemia had been right to send Aelin off to get ready. Although she hadn’t taken the full three hours to prepare, it had been a close thing. She always underestimated how long she needed to shower, pick and outfit, do her hair and makeup, pick a new outfit, touch up her makeup, and then decide on accessories. It happened everytime, and every time she was taken by surprise.

Thank god she had such willful friends.

When she finally re-entered the living room, she saw that several people had already arrived. Those that had never heard the term ’fashionably late’ apparently. Amongst the early birds were a few of Manon’s friends, Sorrel, Vesta, and Imogen. If those three were here, then eight more women would be arriving within the hour. Manon called them her Thirteen, which Aelin thought was a little unoriginal but still sounded pretty cool. They were Manon’s closest–read, only–friends. Besides Elide, of course, but that was different.

Ansel, Ilias, and Mikhail were here, too, which didn’t surprise Aelin, since they never stayed late and made up for it by always arriving early.

Emrys and Malakai were just walking in, Luca trailing not too far behind, holding a bottle of wine. That was awfully nice of them, Aelin would have to personally thank them later.

“Aelin!” A voice giggled from behind her. Turning around, Aelin found Asterin smiling gleefully at her, a glass of rum and coke in her hand and a haze over her eyes. Aelin would’ve rolled her eyes if it had been anyone but Asterin. Everyone knew the girl liked to party and had perfected the art of maintaining a light buzz. “Girl you look hot!”

Smirking, Aelin looked down at herself. She was wearing a tight black dress that hugged all her curves and left nothing to the imagination. Hell, it was so tight she couldn’t even wear underwear with it.

She’d bought the dress ages ago and had never gotten around to wearing it. She probably never would have, either, if it hadn’t been for Rowan. He’d spotted it a few weeks ago and stared at it until Aelin had finally asked if he liked it.

“Wear this for me,” he’d whispered in response, his voice hoarse and weak. “Please.”

Well how could she say no to that?

It wasn’t anything too special, especially with its jewel neckline or its long sleeves, but the back, that’s what made it. Or, well, the lack of it did. Where there should have been fabric, there was only skin all the way down, ending just before the swell of her ass.

She’d done her hair up, too, so everyone would have a view of the scarred and tattooed flesh of her back, and the only jewelry she wore were her golden, dangling earrings, crafted to look like dragons. Add a pair of black pumps, and she looked like hell in heels.

“I know,” she told Asterin confidently, making her laugh.

Leaning in to touch one of the dragon earrings, the other blonde whispered conspiratorially, “If things don’t work out with Rowan, give me a call yeah?”

Chuckling, Aelin nodded, “Will do.”

Puckering her lips and giving Aelin an air kiss, Asterin took her leave.

Soon party guests began showing up in earnest. First was Dorian’s cousin, Roland, with two of the Thirteen–Faline and Fallon, if Aelin wasn’t mistaken–which made Manon go into mama bear mode. Lovely.

Then there were Kharis and Deji, Nehemia’s younger brothers.  They were mostly invited so Evangeline wouldn’t be the only minor in the group.

Next were Kaltain Rompier, Aelin’s former arch-nemesis turned begrudging friend, along with her latest loser of a beau.

Nesryn came followed by a gaggle of people Aelin had never met before, but she shrugged that off. Faliq was a shrewd woman, if she liked these people enough to bring them to Aelin’s home, then they must be all right.

Finally, an hour after the party officially began Rowan walked through her door along with the rest of his cadre.  

His green eyes immediately found hers and then widened as he took in what she was wearing. Freezing in the middle of the living room, his eyes traced her every movement as strode towards him. Heart thumping almost painfully in her chest, Aelin smiled, her face shining like a confident, golden sun, and she performed a graceful twirl, giving him a peek at her back, before kissing his cheek.

“Like what you see?” She asked, her mouth right next to his ear. She was pressed so close against him, she could feel the tremor her words sent down his body.

Groaning lowly, his hands came up to rest on her hips. “Aelin,” he let out a short laugh, his warm breath fanning against her neck as he asked, “are you trying to kill me?”

“Not actively,” she said, then took his earlobe into her mouth, just for fun.

The hands on her hips trembled and tightened, his blunt fingernails digging through the fabric of her dress and into her skin. “Aelin,” he said, as softly as a prayer.  

Somewhere from the crowd came a harsh wolf whistle, making Aelin jump. She was going to kill Aedion.

Pulling away, she decided she’d deal with her cousin later and smiled up at Rowan, “Oops,” she stuck out her tongue, leaning against him as she said, “I guess we got a little carried away.”

Rowan huffed out a laugh and reached up to stroke his thumb against her cheek. “Maybe just a little.” This time it was him who leaned in to whisper into her ear, “Just wait until everyone leaves. I’ll carry you away all night long.”

“I’ll hold you to that, buzzard,” she responded. Turning her head, Aelin pressed a quick peck to his lips before stepping back. Taking his hand, and preening when he intertwined their fingers, she led him into the thick of the party.

It was a minute until midnight and the party had been a wonderful success. We’ll, almost. There had been a slight Lorcan issue–he’d invited Maeve, the dumbass–but it had been handled and dealt with almost an hour ago now, and there had been no drama since.

Aelin and Rowan stood by a window, watching as small white flakes fell to the ground. The snow most likely wouldn’t stick, but it was pretty all the same. And the drafty window provided a slight reprieve from the heat her guests were creating. Rowan stood behind her, his arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. Every now and again he’d place a kiss against the curve her her jaw, the line of her neck, the spot behind her ear, making Aelin would shiver and smile like a giddy child.

Soon the countdown would begin, and she’d turn around to kiss Rowan; bring in the year with him. She hadn’t had someone to kiss on New Year’s sincerely Sam, and that was … it felt like a lifetime ago.

Although part of her, a part that would always belong to Sam, twanged painfully at the thought of moving on, a bigger part knew he’d want her to do so, that he wanted her to be happy. Rowan kissed her neck again, and her heart soared, drowning out the small twang in its elation.

Twisting her neck to sneak a kiss to some unseen part of Rowan’s face, making him chuckle, she basked in the happiness he brought her.

The countdown was starting. Thirty seconds, twenty nine, twenty eight … “Aelin,” Rowan mumbled. She could feel every syllable his lips made against her skin, raising bumps along her neck. She hummed, letting him know she was listening.

“Aelin, I love you.” It was so quiet, Aelin almost missed it. Then thought she’d dreamed it.

Turning in his arms, she looked at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Rowan stared back at her, a small smile on his lips. Leaning in until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers, he said it again, “I love you.” And kissed her.

If Aelin had thought she had dreamt it, the kiss proved her wrong. There was no way she could dream such a kiss. It was so light, so tender and chaste and full of love, it filled her up and made her feel like she could fly. No dream could ever do that kiss justice.

Rowan pulled away and Aelin gave chase, wrapping an arm around his neck so he couldn’t go far. Resting their foreheads together, she looked deep into his forest green eyes and smiled at him. “Rowan,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Pressing a brief kiss to his lips, she pulled back, “I,” she kissed him again, “love,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “too,” she kissed once more, addicted to his lips.

Then, feeling he needed to hear it all in one go, she said, “I love you, too.”

People around them began to cheer and holler as the countdown finished. Aelin didn’t care about any of that, though, the only thing she cared about was standing right before her, looking down at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

Reaching up onto her tiptoes, Aelin pulled him down for another kiss, one worthy or bringing in the New Year.

Breaking away one last time, she smiled mischievously at him, “Rowan,” she said, oh so innocently. He hummed, his eyes glazed over with unspoken heat, “Did you know,” she leaned up to whisper into his ear, “that I’m not wearing any underwear?”

“Aelin.”

[samilovesyou-blog1]

(19-06-21) The Wicked Old Deer

Faithful Subjects,

Today has been an amazing day, dear critters, I found in myself the courage to consult the grass-snake today, a specialist in cures and healing, and I told him all about my curse. To my surprise, the grass-snake knew all about the curse already and assured me it could be easily be taken care of through a certain kind of magic. He also told me, in a less pleasing news, that this magical process wouldn’t go unnoticed by my parents, and that there will come a moment when I will not be able to hide from them anymore. This thought scares me, I must confess, and although I told the grass-snake I would come around and tell them of my curse, I also cannot imagine how I could possibly face them and expect them to accept my bane. My current state might confer me joy and comfort, but I wouldn’t expect them to understand or even find pride in me after they know, as they already love the soul I used them too, the son they wanted, and forcing them to tolerate a second soul in my body that isn’t their son could very well anger them, or worse even, disgust them.

Today also my mother’s parents visited us, which did not charmed me at all. See, my mother’s grandfather, which I have for a long time called the Wicked Old Deer, is an individual I have grown to despise. My grandfather is a liar and the most disloyal member of the royal family, and as for my grandmother, she has been emotionally abused by her husband which is why she never disrespects or objects him, and although I do not dislike her the slightest, her husband, the Wicked Old Deer, is already enough reasons for me to disdain their occasional visits.

The reason why I disdain my maternal grandfather is mostly because of an affair concerning my uncle, the Black Deer, the cruelest creature I have met in my life. A possessive and aggressive being, he locked away his daughter, my dear cousin, to prevent anyone but him from seeing her, and he starved my Aunt for she could remain thin although it almost killed her, all because my uncle only cares about himself. The Black Deer should have been a shame to the family, but the Wicked Old Deer only cared for his only son, and wouldn’t give a single care to his daughters. My mother in the past fled her home at adulthood to escape my grandfather’s immorality, and once again, when she learned my grandfather protected my uncle the Black Deer, and approved his cruelty, my mother refused to see them ever again, which is why I haven’t seen any of my cousins since we were fawns.

The reason why the Wicked Old Deer continues to visit, though, is only because recently, on one of Man’s hunts he was badly injured by a bullet, and the infection spreading, he probably realized he was a sad, old, despicable and lonely brute, and he reached out to my mother in search of forgiveness. To our dismay, we discovered that despite the years and his current state, he did not change even a bit, claiming that the Black Deer forced him to support him, which not only does not make sense, but is a ridiculous lie since we all remember his reaction back when we last saw him. We all know he is pretending to be a victim when he really only is a coward, and despite this, my mother continues to agree to see him. I cannot hide my feeling of betrayal when my mother accepted to allow him in our lives again, even after discovering he was the same man she fled years ago, but I had to accept my mother’s decision and, of course, the hope of seeing my dear cousin, who is still locked away by the Black Deer, is the only motivation I have to see them, that there might be a chance my uncle will allow me to see her again.

I always fill my head with thoughts of hatred whenever I see the Wicked Old Deer, hence why it is always a delight to be able to roam around Picturewoods at night, the perfect way to clear my thoughts after a hard day. Unfortunately, for the first time ever it rained in Picturewoods, and your careless Queen left her Bestiary in the open air! Why must I be so thoughtless! Now, the Bestiary is soaked and I must start all over again, which means I will not be able to add any new entries to the Bestiary until I fix it or find a new one, which absolutely irritates me, which is also a shame because I was just about to catch a very fine picture today, but now it’s meaningless, is it? Without a Bestiary this whole thing seems rather useless. It seems I will have to keep being satisfied with only sighting new treasures for a while.

On the matter, I caught a glance of a fairly common picture called “I Am Mother” by Grant Sputore. Upon expecting the film, I was predicting something like “Ex Machina”, something smart and thoughtful, but I was disappointed with something less thought-provocative, and something that was barely even thrilling. In my own words, I would compare “I am Mother” to be a mix of “Ex Machina” and “10 Cloverfield Lane”, not only is the plot of “I Am Mother” a mix of the two, but it also mixes the pretty visuals of “Ex Machina” with the messy storyline of “10 Cloverfield Lane” that technically makes sense but doesn’t feel satisfactory. In “I Am Mother”, a human girl is birthed and raised by a robot named “Mother”, an A.I. with the duty of raising human children and repopulate Earth, to give humanity a second chance after everyone was killed by a toxic disease. As the daughter approaches adulthood, a human outsider who claims there wasn’t any disease and that droids were the one who hunted and killed humans enters her life. One of them is lying and the daughter has to find out who.

Visually, the picture looked very good, but the story wasn’t nearly as stunning. I was expecting something philosophical, or at least surprising, but here the twist ending is obvious from the start, and the film even lacks the ambiguity of not knowing who to believe, something “10 Cloverfield Lane” at least did well. I do not feel like I wasted my time but I will not seek to add this picture in the Bestiary in the future, and I am not only saying that because it is currently soaked wet.

Today is the summer solstice, and usually the month of the solstice I host the Film Festival in Picturewoods, but with the curse being on my mind all summer I did not prepare anything this year, which unfortunately means there won’t be a Film Festival. I hope I could do something today at least, but with the Bestiary ruined I am afraid I am quite lost. But let’s not mourn over the lack of a Festival this season, let’s look forward to the fall equinox next September, when there will be a Film Festival! I hope you critters are all looking forward to it.

On these words, till it be morrow, Faithful Subjects,

Your Queen,

Faline

[fumifooms]

I think Kui intended for Kuro's Touden party counterpart to be Toshiro, not Izutsumi as is commonly fanonized. Dia being the counterpart to Namari implies that Kabru's party are stunt doubles to the pre-dragon Toudens, not the new party comp, which shakes out Kuro = Shuro pretty easily. The Kabru/Kuro and Laios/Toshiro relationships invert pretty neatly too. Thoughts?

I do agree, but I think there’s stuff to be said about Kuro-Izu too. I think it’ll be fun eventually for me to try every way in which every party member parallels another in some way, but just casually spitballing for a bit here… With Kuro the first thing I notice when comparing to Toshiro is armor. The shape of the chestplate is pretty common, but the whole of it feels reminiscent, the silhouette, the pants... Also the way all three of them are similarly stanced up hah. Behavior wise, being quiet and stoic and devoted is a Toshiro thing. Kuro’s quite well spoken when in his native tongue and seems generally coolheaded, observant as well. He’s defensive and ferociously protective but otherwise very passive, friendly and gentle. He doesn’t seem to particularly care about morals, he bases what course of action he takes on Mick’s wants and needs.

Kuro is only there for Mickbell, up to a point Toshiro is mostly there for Falin (He did let himself get dragged in before he fell for her, and he’s searching for ways to prove he’s worthy to his father in the dungeons so). Quiet devoted guardian thing. Out of the three, Kuro is the only one without formal fighting training (assumedly), but he’s more of a warrior than a rogue I’d say.

Something else we can look at is their names. Kuro means black in japanese, in meta japanese is the original language of the work and is the "common" that the characters speak. Considering the backstory extra about him having lived in a cage, unable to speak common, I think Mick named him that. This does parallel more to Izutsumi, since she has a history of being given a name (Asebi) but then choosing her own for herself. Toshiro’s by comparison, but you could draw a parallel about the nickname Shuro, butchering his name. There’s a language barrier/culture clash theme for them two in particular. In any case, japanese is something they all share because of this. Kuro-shuro is also pretty close. If you want to dig at more into their name I recommend this paper, Izutsumi’s is particularly interesting.

Do they similarly struggle with identity? Eh. Compared to Izutsumi’s arc being about accepting her beastly half and herself as she is… Kuro is alienated from wider society by being a kobold yes but his character is more centered on unhealthy devotion which is closer to Toshiro 1) running himself ragged to save Falin and 2) being trapped in his noble role and duty to his household. ALTHOUGH you can argue that that’s the point, that Kuro and Izutsumi took that shared experience of being caged and kept as property and reacted in diametrically opposed ways to it: Izutsumi decided she never wants to rely on or get attached to anyone ever, meanwhile Kuro decided he just had to find the right person to follow unconditionally. Izutsumi has an arc but she ends it still being independent and she grew closer to the group in general, not just latching onto one person, so again I feel like this is more Shuro. But then the Laios-Kabru parties shadow doubles tend to both parallel and contrast a lot, so who knows what angle is more intended. It’s possible parallels to both are intentional, but then again parallels just tend to happen when you have a developed story.

Izu-Kuro wise the biggest thing is definitely their shared experience of poverty and slavery, and really yeah it’s less being poor and more being taken and treated as less than human & property. Being Servants. Having lived or grown up with the harsh bare minimum. They’re both barefoot. Cat & dog, black & white, etc etc. And then like we went into, obedience vs rebellion- obedience which is pretty Toshiro. So it’s truly a matter of well ok and now what do we do with these threads.

This can actually be a throughline: Characters from the Kabru party tend to contrast against their Laios party counterpart in weirdly specific symmetrical ways. Namari is more alike Dia than Senshi. Toshiro is alike Kuro whereas Izutsumi heavily contrasts against him. Holm is alike Falin. If we go by "the Kabru counterpart is alike the old Laios party member and dissimilar to the new one" I think that’s a fun angle. Dia’s the more ambiguous I think, I should make an analysis on her she’s so interesting…

Also, this scene is a direct parallel, and of course Toshiro isn’t around but Izu here is the Kuro to Chilchuck’s Mickbell.

And while we’re on the topics of Toshio and parallels, there are so many between Toshiro and the black haired half-elf Forva from Daltian Clan btw omg… Aka Marcille’s favorite character. Aka there’s so much we could dig into here. It’s interesting because general Hareus the character she simps for looks exactly like Mithrun and it 1000% has to be intentional, but it’s not like Marcille thinks of that when she sees him, so much like the Laios party-Kabru party parallels what it adds to the story is meta instead of in-world… And in this way it’s interesting to think of possible Daltian-rest of the cast parallels as well. Uriel the protagonist looks like Milsiril somewhat, she’s a bumpkin found to actually be from a noble house and becomes the protagonist at the heart of the romance political drama plot… A play on Milsiril being a recluse? Because if we go from Mithrun-Hareus parallels then to me the point of the parallels at all is to either joke about or do commentary on fiction vs reality, idealized vs real. Mithrun being part of the military like General Hagreus and having lost an eye like him but it’s not glamorous, it’s not chivalrous, Mithrun is not a figure to be idolized but one to look at and realise that ah, the elven military is a flawed system pushing people into unhealthy mindsets and death. So like with Toshiro-Forva… Similar case of "don’t meet your heroes"? Lonely doomed love hinorbound noble sad you can’t make this shit up……

[rufousnmacska]

Child of Peace 18 - History

In honor of the chapter title - and the fact that I let this go for so long without an update - let me explain what’s happened so far...

1. Manon, Dorian, and Fallon have split off from the rest of the Thirteen (except Asterin and Briar, who went with Rowan). Vesta had led a group back to Morath to spy but they missed the rendezvous. Sorrel, Ghislaine and Faline were sent to look for Vesta and her group. In the meantime, Manon’s group came across a wrecked village. They found dead Crochans and a dead Vesta (killed by Yellowlegs). They don’t know where the rest of the Thirteen are.

2. The Crochans live in the Frozen Wastes on the western side of the Anascaul Mtns (border of Terrasen). They’ve survived living in an underground network of caves and above ground villages. They have powerful magic, more varied than the yielding magic that the Ironteeth have.

3. Manon has a grandmother - Aven. And a niece - Annabee - by her half-sister Rhiannon. Upon seeing Annabee, Manon realizes they’ve met before. Manon saved Annabee’s life when she was little (when Iskra killed Annabee’s father). Neither told anyone about it - Manon for fear of punishment from the Matron (for saving a Crochan), Annabee because she didn’t know who Manon was until later, then was afraid to admit what had happened. Aven has kept Manon-Dorian-Fallon separate from the rest of the Crochans since not all of them are happy that Manon is their queen.

4. Manon and Dorian are mates through a witch mating bond. Witches have two other bonds - a friendship/ally bond (Manon & Asterin, Manon & Abraxos) and an enemy bond (Manon & the Matron). The mate bond is different than a fae mating bond (not as feral, more choice involved). But they can communicate thoughts, feelings, etc. through the bond. The ally bond enhances an existing connection (like how Manon & Abraxos can communicate). The enemy bond is pretty much a guarantee that one person will kill the other. Spoiler?

5. Dorian still has nightmares and flashbacks to his time under valg control. Manon is still coming to terms with her abuse by the Matron and suffers from depression because of it. But they are both improving with help from each other and the other witches (Blackbeaks and Crochans).

6. Sex has been had.

AO3 link to full story

The sun was slipping beneath the horizon when Dorian said, “We’ve just wasted the entire day.”

Manon rolled onto her side to look at him, her eyes glassy. “I think we will be forgiven. Besides, after what just happened, we deserved a day off.”

Dorian laughed, taking hold of her braid. “That is perhaps the biggest understatement I have ever heard. Do you think we can drag this out until tomorrow?”

“I’m certainly willing to try,” she replied with a smirk. “What did you have in mind Princeling?”

“Actually,” Dorian said, a bit sheepishly, “I thought we could take Abraxos for a little celebratory ride?”

Now Manon laughed. “I suppose I could be talked into it,” she said, standing and offering Dorian a hand. He took it but didn’t get up. 

“You’re losing your edge Witchling,” he said, pulling her down on top of him. “You left yourself wide open for that.” Her expression was quite impressive. “Is there a word for glaring and smiling at the same time?” he asked. “If not, I need to think of one.”

“And what of the wyvern ride?”

“We have plenty of time for that after it gets dark.” He kissed her, both of them unable to contain their grins. “In fact, we have plenty of time for everything.”

  Training. That’s all Manon and Dorian had been doing for the past couple of weeks.  Every day. Sword fighting techniques with Fallon. Magic instruction with Annabee and Aven. The sword play was for Dorian’s benefit. He was good. But he’d wanted to get better, reluctant to let his magic become a crutch. And the magical training… That was supposed to be for both of them but it had really only helped Dorian. He’d quickly learned to control his magic, in all of its permutations. He’d added fire to complement his ice magic. Shielding, though already one of his strengths, was now becoming second nature. Moving objects to and from greater distances, sussing other people’s magic, harnessing and directing his magic’s destructive power… He was on his way to mastering them all.

Manon, on the other hand, was struggling.

Dorian had described his magic like a well, deep within himself. When it had first manifested, he’d had no control. It had just come out, usually in the form of ice. Later, with practice and focus, he could reach down into it, pull it up, unleash it. And now, it was becoming instinctual.

Manon tried using his well imagery. But when she'd concentrate, she pictured something more like a cauldron or forge. She could feel it roiling with power. But any time she tried to access it, she felt herself becoming consumed. The fear of yielding always pulled her back from the edge of using it. The magic didn’t feel destructive though. In fact, it felt more like... creation. Preservation. Salvation. Not the darkness or ruin she’d always associated with yielding.

Helping to ease Manon’s frustrations, Aven’s instruction also included what could only be called history lessons. She and Dorian were given some accounts of Crochan and Erilean histories to read, but mostly they listened to Aven’s own stories.

The first few sessions had been… well, mind-blowing, often leaving both Dorian and Manon too stunned for words. No small feat with Dorian, Manon had thought later. To her credit, Aven had tried to dole out her revelations slowly so as not to overwhelm them. The timing didn’t really matter. If she’d had years to explain this to them, the shock would have been the same.

Almost everything they'd been told about the Witch Wars was wrong. But that wasn’t really the surprising part. Victors write the history after all. What had left them reeling was Aven’s knowledge of Elena’s bargain and what it meant for the heirs she’d damned for her mistake.

As the only daughter of Rhiannon Crochan and Brannon Galathynius, Aven knew of what she spoke.

Born over seven hundred years ago, Aven had known very early on that she’d inherit one of her mother’s titles. Her half-sister Damson was to take the other one. Neither sister had ever been bothered by the division. It made perfect sense as they had different skills, conveniently suited for the roles they’d inherit. Their fathers also helped determine how things were split. As a full-blooded Crochan, Damson would eventually become Queen. While Aven would become the Guardian of Mala’s Temple.

Aven grew into an accomplished and powerful witch. She’d learned the subtle art of prophecy, to anticipate the arrival of Elena’s chosen heir. She’d mastered the brunt force of her magic, to defend the temple and her people. She’d memorized all of the spells her mother had developed to aid those who would banish Erawan.

When the Ironteeth declared war and attacked, it had not been a surprise. The Bluebloods were obviously not the only clan able to see the future. However, the Blueblood vision that prompted the war had been misleading. Either a result of deliberate lies and manipulation, or simply poor interpretation. Knowing the Ironteeth Matrons, Rhiannon had suspected the former.

Before the final siege of Rhiannon’s palace, most of the surviving Crochans had been relocated to the Maze, Aven among them. Not all of them were lucky enough to be spared. Some had stayed behind. Otherwise, if the Ironteeth were successful, they would have been suspicious, wondering why the fortress was so empty. It had been hardest on the few elite Crochan warriors ordered to leave their Queen so as to ensure the survival of their clan. And it had been an Order. They’d been physically unable to turn back once Rhiannon had sent them on their way.

Damson, along with Aven’s other half-sisters, had remained. Rhiannon had no intention of letting her heir die. But Damson had argued that her shielding magic was crucial to their defense. And her ability to winnow meant she could escape when things became too dangerous. But something had gone wrong. No one else had escaped and no one had been left alive.

Aven had known the moment her mother died. She’d felt the shock waves of Rhiannon’s dying curse, even though she was hundreds of miles away and underground. A few elders who’d served under her mother had helped devise the curse and were there to inform the survivors. It had given them a buffer, to guard their clan’s most important secret. And, it had bought them time, until the prophecy could be fulfilled.

Without their Queen, or the intended heir, the clan turned to Aven for leadership. But she had never wanted to rule. Her new position as Guardian felt like enough of a responsibility, enough of a weight. So, after months of spurning their requests, the remaining elders formed a small council to govern. They’d all agreed that the royal bloodline would continue through Aven. But for now, while they rebuilt their clan, the Crochans would have no queen. And as time passed, as the prophecy grew more clear, they’d agreed to wait. Until they could crown a new queen. The Queen Who Was Promised.

In the decades after the war, Crochan spies brought back word of the outside world. The two surviving Ironteeth Matrons had spread falsehoods to the humans and Fae about the war’s purpose. They’d also begun to influence the next generations of witchlings. The practice and teaching of magic was now strictly forbidden, the Matrons being the only exception of course. Though, yielding was deemed acceptable because it was too useful in battle. Witch bonds were no longer discussed or acknowledged. Disobedience was punishable by death. And the reason for the war, the reason for Rhiannon’s curse… eventually that knowledge disappeared with the rest. All written accounts were burned. All information about the Crochans was destroyed.

But the curse. The curse had kept the Ironteeth from occupying the Wastes. Kept them from finding the Maze and the later topside settlements. Kept the Blackbeak and Yellowlegs Matrons from coming back to search for Mala’s Temple. And its hidden wyrdkey. The true motivation behind the war.

Rhiannon had suspected that the Matrons were working at the behest of another, greater evil. But she’d been unable to find out who. Erawan was still locked away under the Black Mountains. The only other possibility she knew of was Maeve, the Fae Queen across the sea. Rhiannon had never found proof of any connection between her and the other witch clans. But Baba Yellowlegs was highly skilled in the use of witch mirrors. That would have made it all too easy for the Fae Queen to collude with the Ironteeth.

But Rhiannon’s sacrifice protected them and their secret. Their magic served them as well. Occasional Ironteeth patrols would wander into their mountains. But they never wandered back out. The new Ironteeth rule against using magic put them at a ridiculous disadvantage. But the Matrons’ desire for complete control seemed to outweigh any concern for their witches.

As Aven settled into her role as Guardian, and as the Crochans became more certain of their seclusion, she realized her duties were not terribly difficult. She frequently had visions, but rarely did they pertain to the wyrdkey or Elena. Or their promised queen. So, she filled her time instructing witchlings in magic. And when she met Owain, she’d realized there was one duty she had not fulfilled. She needed to provide her clan with an heir.

That had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Not birthing and raising her son. But having to watch as Owain grew old and died. As Guardian of Mala’s Temple, Aven could not possibly yield her immortality for her human husband, mate or not. Her duty - to her mother, her clan, the future - outweighed all. So, unlike other Crochans who were mated or married to humans, she’d had no choice but to carry on without him.

Which had made Liam’s death that much harder to bear. She’d foreseen his role in the prophecy. His daughter would be the one to bring peace to the Witch Kingdom. She’d be the one to unite the witches, Fae, and humans. She’d be one piece of the final puzzle that could send Erawan back to whatever hell he’d crawled from.

They’d all thought his soon-to-be-born witchling would be the subject of the prophecy. But then her mother died in childbirth. And when Rhiannon was old enough to be left alone, Liam drowned his grief by wandering the continent. He’d spend months away, returning for short intervals before leaving again.

One day, after years of this solitary travel, he’d returned to Aven and Rhiannon in shock. Speaking almost incoherently. About his mate. He’d found her. Another witch. But, the wrong kind of witch.

His subsequent search for his Blackbeak mate and child had been unsuccessful. Though it had only been confirmed when Aven no longer sensed her son. He was dead. And she’d had no reason to believe his second child was alive. The Blackbeak Matron would never tolerate a drop of Crochan blood in her clan. If she had any idea that a Crochan Prince had fathered one of her clan’s witchlings… Well, there was no way that baby would survive.

But, over a century later, Liam’s daughter had a vision of her own. And Rhiannon was off in search of her half-sister. The White Demon who’d made a sport of hunting Crochans. The Blackbeak Heir, raised by evil incarnate. The Crochan Queen who was promised to bring peace.

When Aven learned who her other granddaughter was and that she was in fact alive, she knew instantly how and why her son had died. Realized how and why the baby had survived and been raised to murder her own kind. The Matron. Aven had always prided herself on her calm, even temper. But upon understanding the full extent of what had been done to her family, what the gods and goddesses must have been laughing at… She’d been unable to leave her room for days. Rhiannon’s death had been met with numbness. She didn’t have anything left to give. She’d already sacrificed her husband, her son, her granddaughter. There wasn’t much left to take.

Annabee’s grief and anger couldn’t even penetrate the dark haze in which Aven found herself. It wasn’t until she had a new vision - gods how she hated them - that she felt like she could breathe again. It had shown her the end, all of it. The truth of Manon Blackbeak. The fiercely beating heart under the armor. The existence of her mate, one of Brannon and Mala’s heirs, possessing raw magic. The existence of their other heir, who possessed Mala’s fire magic. As well as her mate, the most powerful full-blooded Fae in the world.

Two mated pairs. Each one a wielder of powerful magic. Each of the four elements represented. One of the many possible scenarios for which her parents had planned. The spells required for each outcome developed by Rhiannon and infused into the three wyrdkeys by Brannon. The spells then taught to Aven. Who taught them to Liam. Then young Rhiannon. Then Annabee. Now, she’d need to teach one of the spells to Manon.

Two mated pairs. The witch serving to ground her mate’s raw magic, keeping him from unleashing destruction. The Fae warrior grounding his mate’s fire magic, keeping her from burning the world.

Four elements combining their magic to create the lock and seal the gate. Earth for Manon’s iron and water for Dorian’s ice magic. Fire and air for the Terrasen Queen and her Fae mate.

Four of the most powerful of their kinds - human, witch, Fae. Joining their different magics together to destroy Erawan. Joining together to dissipate the killing power of the wyrdgate. Joining together to ensure the survival of all four.

That final revelation, the possibility that they could survive the confrontation with Erawan, had left Manon and Dorian dazed. They’d left the caverns for the surface, needing fresh air and sky and grass and time. It took all day for them to recognize and acknowledge the feeling that was beginning to overtake them. And even then, when they could speak of it, say it out loud, it felt so fragile. Like a slight gust of wind could rip it from their grasp.

But, nothing could stop the hope that had bloomed inside them. Hope for victory and a life after. A life together.

So, when the sky was a deep blue that was almost black, excellent cover for a darkly mottled wyvern, they returned to the Maze and saddled Abraxos. When he burst out of the cave, Manon felt like whooping, as Asterin might have done. They’d been so busy and distracted that Abraxos hadn’t been exercised in days. She sent him a silent apology, which, sensing her good mood, he readily accepted.

As they rose higher into the air, the three of them, connected by their bonds, were so full of life and hope and joy.

It was perfectly understandable then, that they didn’t notice the two wyverns and their riders hiding within a small grove of trees near the cave mouth. And once Abraxos swept into a low lying cloud, there was no way to see the wyverns take off, heading south towards Adarlan.

... to be continued!