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dragonridersandhighlords · 1 month ago

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Chasing Shadows | S E V E N

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Everything Wren thought she knew is unraveling and the only thing more dangerous than the enemy are those with life altering secrets.

Notes: Updates are going to be slower after this! I will still try to put at least one out a week but no guarantees! Thank you so much for the support on this series!

Warnings: panic attack/dissociation, betrayal, threats of death, terrible descriptions of battle, major character death

Word Count: 8.4k

previous part

“No. This isn’t real. This has to be some sick dream.”

The cry of a dragon echoed through my mind, shattering the silence of the night as the familiar figure of a red daggetail plummeted to the earth. My heart raced, a visceral fear clawing at my chest.

“He’s gone,” Desa’s gentle voice brushed against our bond, a soothing balm that only deepened my desperation. I begged her to dive, to reach Liam before it was too late.

“Wrennie?” The sound of my name pulled me from the abyss. I met Liam’s concerned gaze, his dark eyes searching mine. “You okay?”

I must have looked pale, a specter of my usual self. This was my second vision in a month, a haunting pattern that left me feeling more vulnerable than ever. Twice now, I had watched Liam die—twice too many for a marked one like me. A cold dread settled in my stomach, and I struggled to mask my unease.

“Fine.” My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears. “Just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Okay.” Liam's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. “Xaden wants to talk to you.”

I nodded, my gaze drifting past him to where Xaden stood, shrouded by the shadows of the rocks, his presence commanding and intense.

“Something bad is going to happen.” His voice pierced through my mind, sending a chill down my spine as I made my way to him.

“I know.” I sighed aloud, dread pooling in my gut as I reached his side.

“What’d you see?” Xaden's instinctive question hung in the air, and I fought to keep the tears at bay, the weight of my visions pressing heavily upon me.

“Something we might not be able to stop, but I’m going to try.” The words spilled out before I could second-guess myself, and to my surprise, Xaden nodded, acceptance mingling with worry in his gaze.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, the gravity of his tone pulling me closer. “But I need you to understand that I made a lot of promises to a lot of people. That’s why I never told you before.”

“What are you talking about?” I searched his eyes, desperate to read the unspoken fears lurking beneath the surface.

“I—” He hesitated, and I could see the moment his bond with Sgaeyl tightened, urgency radiating off him. “Fuck, I thought I had more time.” The frustration in his voice was palpable. “Trust me, please.”

“What’s going on?”

The air was thick with tension, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as the reality of the situation settled over me like a heavy cloak.

“General Sorrengail’s youngest? This is a treat.” The voice was both startling and oddly familiar, echoing around the rocky outcropping as I strained to place it. My pulse quickened, and I exchanged a worried glance with Xaden, who had stepped closer.

As we rounded the jagged rocks, a breathtaking sight unfolded before us: a pair of gryphon flyers stood a few yards away, their majestic forms adorned with gleaming feathers that caught the light of the fading sun. I instinctively reached for one of my blades, the cool steel a reassuring presence against my palm, but before I could draw it, Xaden's hand clamped down around my wrist, grounding me with urgency.

“You’re fucking early.” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes locked on the flyers with a fierce intensity that made my heart plummet. The calmness in his tone clashed with the tension radiating from his body. “What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment.”

“The shipment isn’t the issue,” the woman replied, shaking her head, her features illuminated by the dimming light.

“Syrena?” The name slipped from my lips in shock as I finally caught a clear glimpse of the female flyer, her face a mix of relief and confusion.

“Holy shit, Wren, you’re actually alive?” Syrena exclaimed, pulling me into an unexpected hug. I froze, every fiber of my being alert and uncertain as the warmth of her embrace enveloped me.

“What are you doing here? What shipment are you talking about?” I managed to stammer as she pulled back, bewilderment clouding her features.

“You don’t know?” Her question hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and looming, as she looked to Xaden.

“Xay?” I turned to look at him, seeking answers, but he avoided my gaze, his expression unreadable, as if bracing himself for the worst.

“I wanted to tell you,” he murmured, desperation creeping into his tone.

“Tell me what?” I stepped back from his outstretched hand, the distance between us suddenly feeling larger than ever.

“We’ve been supplying the drifts with alloy daggers to fight venin,” Xaden replied, his words hanging heavy in the space between us. “From Basgiath’s forge.”

“You what?” Confusion swirled within me, battling with a surge of emotions I couldn’t fully articulate. Am I angry? Am I upset? Impressed?

“I told you she’d react like this.” Garrick’s soft laughter broke the tension, but it only served to ignite the fire within me as I snapped my gaze towards him.

“You knew!” I accused, the realization crashing down around me like a tidal wave. “You’ve been helping? Do you realize how dangerous this is? What if you got caught?”

Xaden stepped closer, his expression earnest, almost pleading. “Wren—”

“How long have you been lying to me?” My voice was laced with betrayal, a bitter edge sharpening my words as I returned my glare to him. “How long have all of you been lying to me?” I turned, surveying my friends as they shifted uncomfortably, shame flickering in their eyes, leaving me feeling more isolated than ever.

“Since I turned 18,” Xaden's voice broke through the turmoil, and I could hear the tremor in his words, a fragile thread of sincerity struggling to pull through the weight of my disbelief. I gaped at him, the truth washing over me in waves, each one crashing against the shore of my understanding.

“The whole time?” I echoed, my voice rising in pitch, incredulity spilling from my lips like water from a cracked dam. As if in slow motion, I turned my gaze to Garrick and Bodhi, who had shifted closer to Xaden, their faces painted with concern, yet tinged with guilt. “The whole time!” The words came out like a wounded animal's cry, raw and desperate.

In the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of Violet standing beside Liam, her expression mirroring my own shock, the two of us bound by the same tangled web of betrayal. She had trusted them just as I had, and now, as our eyes met, I saw the flicker of hurt reflected back at me. We were both casualties of their silence.

“Wren—” Xaden began, his tone softening as if trying to breach the chasm that had opened between us, but I couldn’t bear to hear him out.

“Fuck you!” I spat and turned on my heel, storming past, the ground seeming to tremble beneath my fury.

“Did you know?” I demanded, my voice steady as I faced Desa, the massive blue dragon who had watched over me for years. Her eyes held a depth of wisdom that made my heart ache even more.

“Youngling.” Her voice was low, like the rumble of distant thunder, and the single word hung in the air between us, answer enough but I need the truth.

“Did you know what they were doing?” I pressed, my frustration bubbling over, refusing to let the question slide. I needed answers, but the intensity of my glare was met with an unwavering calm.

“Yes.” Her admission struck me like a physical blow, leaving me reeling as I took a step back. I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter as I turned away, retreating toward Athebyne.

With each stride, I felt the air around me grow thick with the weight of my emotions—betrayal, anger, confusion—melding into a storm brewing within my chest. Flying to Athebyne would take about thirty minutes from the lake, but with the way my breathing was already uneven, I knew it would take me over an hour. I could feel the jagged edges of my shields rising around me, fortifying my mind against the chaos. Xaden’s door was locked tightly in my thoughts, a silent promise that I wouldn’t let anyone inside—because right now, no one on this team had ever told me the truth, and I couldn’t bear to be near them.

I can see the front gates of the familiar outpost looming ahead, their weathered stone and iron frame a bastion of memories, both comforting and painful. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the landscape, but its beauty feels hollow as I hear the unmistakable sound of powerful wing beats from behind me.

“Wrenley, just stop for a minute!” Xaden’s voice pierces the air, filled with urgency as I know he’s sliding down Sgaeyl’s side. My heart quickens at the sound, a wild mixture of anger and betrayal surging within me.

“I’ll leave for Eltuval in the morning!” I shout back, the determination in my voice echoing off the stone walls as I push myself to walk faster, the ground beneath me blurring into a streak of dirt and grass.

“You’re not leaving!” His voice grows louder, a mix of desperation and frustration, and the moment I sense him close behind, I break off into a sprint. “Damnit, Wren! Just stop!”

“Why? So you can lie to me some more?” I snap, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension hanging in the air. I turn abruptly, my eyes locking onto his, the intensity of my gaze brimming with accusation. “So I can continuously be shown that I shouldn’t trust you?”

“You can trust me.” His response is soft, but the weight of the moment feels anything but gentle.

“Can I?” I challenge, my heart thundering as I reel off the questions that claw at my insides, desperate for answers that may never come. “Where were you for the two years before you went to Basgiath?”

“I was…” He trails off, his words hanging in the air like smoke from a dying fire, leaving an emptiness that chills me to the bone.

I scoff, turning back around with a heavy heart, the outpost now beckoning like a siren, its familiarity a cruel reminder of the trust I once held.

“Wren?” Garrick’s voice calls out, an attempt to halt my retreat as I push through the gates, the sound of creaking wood punctuating my resolve.

I don’t dare give him a response, my gaze fixed firmly on the floor, each step weighted with the burden of betrayal as I walk straight for the briefing room.

“Look at me.” Bodhi’s voice cuts through the haze, his grip on my arm pulling me into the shadows of an alcove, sheltering us from the chaos outside. “You can be mad. You can cry, scream, I’ll even let you hit me. But you cannot shut us out.”

“You’ve all been risking your lives, keeping secrets for years.” The adrenaline from the confrontation begins to fade, replaced by a heavy sorrow that sinks deep into my chest. “I was still believing venin was a myth, a way to get us to behave as kids, but you all knew. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” A tear escapes, a silent testament to my shattered trust. “You were my best friend, Bodhi. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Xaden has to explain that, Princess.” The playful nickname slips off Bodhi’s tongue, and I huff a laugh, my voice echoing off the cold, stone walls of the hall. It’s been almost a year since either he or Garrick dared to use that term, a remnant of our childhood that now feels achingly distant. The corners of my mouth twitch into a smile, but it quickly fades as I remember the weight of the present. “I promise, if it was my story to tell I would.”

“They’re actually real?” The words escape my lips in a breathy gasp, the desperate hope that this is all just a misunderstanding clinging to my heart like a fragile thread. I look to Bodhi, pleading silently for him to dismiss my fears.

“They are. All of the attacks we studied in Battle Brief were the drifts getting alloy daggers, and the classified ones were possibly venin attacks.” His words cut through my apprehension, a stark confirmation that sends a shiver down my spine. The truth hangs heavy in the air, filling the silence with an uncomfortable tension. “We can only go off what the flyers tell us during drops, which is never enough.”

I nod, my mind racing, and glance around the hall, its emptiness suddenly suffocating. “Where is everyone?” I ask, anxiety creeping into my tone.

“I’m sure Xaden and them found the commander and are getting room assignments.” Bodhi shrugs, but the casualness of his tone feels misplaced.

“No,” I interject sharply, the instinctual unease prickling my skin. I move swiftly through the hall, turning to scan the shadows that loom in the corners. “Athebyne, on average, has two riots of twelve riders each, six healers, and four scribes, plus infantry. How have we not seen a single person besides each other?”

I turn back to Bodhi, watching as the realization dawns on him.

“They emptied it,” he murmurs, his brow furrowing.

“It’s a trap,” I conclude, urgency propelling me forward as I rush back out to the main courtyard, the chill of dread settling deep within my bones.

“Wren, can we please talk?” Xaden’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of my thoughts, and I halt, a mix of anger and disbelief flooding my senses.

“No, Xay—”

“I know you're mad, and I’m sorry, but I promised.”

“Xaden!” I cut him off, forcing him to meet my gaze, the gravity of my words hanging heavy between us. “Athebyne’s been emptied. We’re the only ones here.”

“Everyone stop!” His command slices through the air, and I can feel the tension coiling in the courtyard as all eyes turn to him, the realization of danger palpable in the stillness. “Divide and search.” He pivots to me and Violet. “Do not leave my side. I don’t think this is a War Game.”

“Awesome.” Violet mutters, her voice dripping with skepticism as she crosses her arms defensively. We trail behind Xaden, the air growing increasingly tense, with Liam not far behind us. “This is one of the most strategic garrisons we man. There’s no way they’d abandon it for War Games.” Her eyes dart around, scanning the ancient stone walls that have withstood countless storms and conflicts.

“That’s the problem, Violet.” I groan, frustration weighing heavy on my chest. Memories flood my mind, vivid as the hues of dusk settling over the horizon. “My parents were stationed here for 10 years; they never cleaned this place out.” The dust-laden corners and the eerie silence seem to whisper secrets of the past, unsettling in their implications.

“What did Dain say to you before we left?” Xaden’s voice breaks through my reverie as we ascend the spiral staircase leading to the top of the Southwest tower. His tone carries an undercurrent of urgency, forcing Violet to focus. “He leaned in and whispered something.”

“He said something like… I’ll miss you, Violet.” Her reply is hesitant, yet laced with lingering affection.

“And he said I was going to get you killed.” The weight of those words hangs in the air, and my stomach churns at the thought.

“Yes, but he always says that.” Violet rolls her eyes, trying to brush off the dread that looms in the shadows.

“Liam, can you see the trading post?” I pivot, the urgency within me spurring me to act. I turn my back on the uncomfortable conversation, seeking clarity.

“On it.” Liam’s voice is steady as he strides to the battlement, his silhouette framed by the twilight sky. He leans over, eyes narrowing as he activates his farsight, searching for answers.

“What would Dain have to do with emptying an entire outpost?” Violet’s question pulls me back, the uncertainty churning within me anew. I glance between them, desperation clawing at my insides.

“Did you do most of your drops here?” I ask Xaden, watching as he nods, concern etched across his features.

“Who knew you were coming out here?” My heart races, the implications too chilling to consider.

“Bodhi, Garrick, myself and…” He trails off, his gaze drifting to Violet, and a heavy silence circles us.

“Violet?” I probe, sensing something amiss, but he doesn’t respond. “Did you tell Dain about the trips?” My voice trembles with urgency.

“No!” She retorts defiantly, then turns to Xaden, the tension simmering. “Unlike some people, I never hid anything from you.”

“Violet,” he says softly, the weight of his words pressing down on us, “did Aetos touch you after I told you about Athebyne?”

“What?” The confusion in her voice mirrors the anxiety that’s spiraled within me.

“Like this.” Xaden lifts a hand to her cheek, a gesture both tender and alarming. “His power requires touching someone’s face. Did he touch you like this?”

“I thought it had to be both hands?” My heart races, a foreboding instinct flaring to life as I watch their exchange.

“Just the one.” Xaden’s gaze remains locked on Violet, the intensity of his stare pulling the tension taut in the air between them. It’s as if an unseen current courses through the courtyard, charged with unspoken fears that threaten to spill over. The shadows cast by the setting sun lengthen, darkening the stone walls around us, amplifying the weight of the moment.

“Violet?” His voice is edged with concern, a thread of desperation weaving through his words.

“Yes, but that’s how he always touches me. He would n-never…” Her response falters, laced with uncertainty as she instinctively steps out of his hold, the warmth of his palm lingering on her skin like a ghost. “I would know if he read my memories.” Her eyes glisten with defiance, yet a flicker of doubt dances behind them.

Xaden’s expression crumbles, the flicker of hope extinguished as his hand falls away from her cheek. “No, trust me, you wouldn’t.” The finality in his voice sends a chill down my spine, echoing the deeper truth that coils around us like a serpent.

You wouldn’t know if he read your memories. The thought gnaws at me, unsettling and invasive. My mind races back to moments shared with Dain, his hand pressing against my cheek with an intimacy that now feels tainted. How many times did he linger in that manner after my training? Oh gods.

“He knows.” My voice trembles as I take a step back, retreating until my back meets the cold, unyielding stone of the battlement. The air feels thick, suffocating, and the reality of our predicament weighs heavily on my chest. “Oh gods, he knows.”

Xaden locks eyes with me, but before he can even voice his concern, Garrick shoves a missive into Xaden’s hands, breaking the moment's intensity.

“It’s addressed to you,” Garrick says, urgency etched on his features.

I watch as Xaden breaks the seal, the crisp crack of parchment slicing through the tension. A second letter falls from within, fluttering like a wounded bird. Garrick quickly scoops it up while Xaden reads, his complexion paling with each line that dances before his eyes.

“It’s for you, Wren.” Garrick’s hand extends toward me, and I barely manage to grasp the paper, the world narrowing into a singular focus.

Cadet Wrenley Tavis, Executive Officer of Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.

As I break the seal and unfold the letter, the ground beneath me seems to quake, the words within threatening to pull me into an abyss from which there may be no return.

Cadet Tavis,

You can imagine my shock upon learning that you’ve been keeping not one but two signets secret for almost 2 years. An intinnsic and a precog, a dangerous pair.

Should you live through the task assigned to your Wingleader, you are to report to my office immediately. Should you not, well, that's one less problem to worry about.

May Malek condemn your soul.

Colonel Aetos

The world around me fades into a muted blur, the edges of my reality softening as I stare at the letter clutched in my trembling hands. The parchment crinkles under the pressure of my grip, the inked words dancing before my eyes like phantoms in a fever dream. I can hear the murmur of voices rising and falling around me, but they seem distant, swallowed by the weight of the revelation that settles like a stone in my gut.

No, no, no, no, no.

The mantra echoes in my mind, a desperate chant against the inevitable tide that threatens to engulf me. Each repetition is a plea, a refusal to accept the stark reality laid out before me.

“Oh shit.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the haze, laced with a tension that coils tighter around my chest. The sound of paper crumpling reaches my ears, grounding me momentarily, but it only serves to amplify the fear coursing through me. “It says our mission is to survive if we can.”

A shadow of disbelief flits across the courtyard, mingling with the fading light of day. “That’s not…” Garrick begins, his voice trailing off as if the words themselves are too heavy to bear.

“Guys, this is bad,” Liam shouts, urgency cracking through the air like thunder, and I hear the shuffling of feet as someone moves closer. Yet, I remain rooted in place, my gaze fixated on the letter, my mind racing as it grapples with the implications.

“We’ve been sent here to die.” Xaden’s tone is grave, and the gravity of his words sinks like a stone into the depths of my heart. The breath catches in my throat, a jagged gasp that feels like an echo of my despair.

I’m drowning in the suffocating realization; no matter how I twist and turn the situation in my mind, the conclusion remains the same. Leadership knows the truth, and with it comes the certainty of my death. Panic unfurls within me, clawing at the edges of my sanity as the world tilts dangerously off its axis.

“Wrenley?” Bodhi’s voice breaks through the fog, and I blink, trying to pull myself from the depths of my thoughts. His face looms in front of me, concern etching deep lines across his brow, but I am paralyzed. The words of the letter echo relentlessly, drowning out everything else, leaving me voiceless and trapped in a cage of my own making.

I can’t move. I can’t talk. The air feels thick, constricting around my lungs, each shallow breath a reminder of the looming threat that now hangs over us like a dark cloud. The chill of reality seeps into my bones, and for a moment, I wish for nothing more than to slip away, to escape the impending storm.

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“Xaden!��

“Deep breaths, Little Bird.”

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“What is she saying?”

“What happened, Love?”

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“No harm will come to you.”

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“Wren?”

“Garrick, get her to Desa.”

“Love, you need to go with him.” The urgency in Xaden's voice resonates through the suffocating air, but my head shakes instinctively, a reflex against the tumultuous reality that encircles us. The world around me seems to warp and sway, as if I’m caught in the eye of a storm, the chaos pulling at my very essence.

Xaden stands before me, yet he feels altered, a shadow of the man I hold dear. His once-striking gold-flecked onyx eyes—those warm orbs that always spoke of comfort and unwavering strength—now seem to smolder with a darker hue, rimmed in crimson. Red veins snake across his temples, pulsing ominously as if they are alive, echoing the frantic beating of my heart.

“Xay?” My voice trembles, feeling foreign as it escapes my lips. I stretch a hesitant hand toward his cheek, craving the familiar warmth that once anchored me, but now I am met with an unsettling chill that sends shivers racing down my spine.

“You should’ve listened, my life.” The words twist out of him, distorted and sharp, a haunting melody that reverberates in my mind. Before I can fully process the change, his hand clamps around my arm, and I watch in horror as the vibrant color of my skin dulls under his grip, a shadow washing over my very being.

In an instant, he shifts back to himself, the turbulence in his eyes still reflecting a worry that penetrates deeper than the very ground beneath us. My breath steadies, but the unease lingers, an unwelcome guest in the back of my mind.

“Garrick’s going to take you somewhere safe, okay?” His voice softens, yet the urgency remains, a plea wrapped in concern.

“No.” The word feels like an anchor as I finally force myself to speak. “I have to change it.” Understanding flickers across Xaden’s face, a fleeting connection that grounds us amidst the chaos, before he turns to the others.

“The letter says this is a test of your command." Garrick grips the crumpled letter, his brows furrowing as he reads, "You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension, urgency woven into every word.

“They’re testing our loyalty without actually saying it.” Xaden folds his arms over his chest, his posture rigid, a sentinel against the encroaching chaos. The stark sunlight gleams off the ink of the missive he holds, casting jagged shadows on the ground. “According to the missive, if we leave now, we’ll make it to the new location of headquarters for Fourth Wing at Eltuval in time to carry out our orders for War Games. But if we leave, the trading post of Resson and its occupants will be destroyed.”

“By what?” Imogen’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife, urgency threading through her words. She leans closer, her brows knitting in concern.

“Venin,” Liam interjects, his tone grave, as if the very name itself carries the weight of a death sentence.

“You’re positive?” Xaden’s gaze sharpens, searching Liam’s face for any sign of doubt.

Liam nods, resolute. “As sure as I can be without having actually seen them before. Four of them. Purple robes. Distended red veins spidering all around bright red eyes. Creepy as shit.”

“Sounds about right,” Xaden mutters, shifting his weight, the tension coiling tighter around him like an invisible noose.

“I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons,” Bodhi mutters under his breath, his words a low rumble of discontent.

“Oh, and one guy with a giant-ass staff,” Liam continues, his voice rising with an urgent fervor. “And I swear to Dunne, one second the plain was clear, and the next, they were just…there, walking toward the gates.” His wide eyes reflect the fear clawing at the edges of their reality, pupils dilated as he uses his signet to pierce the depths of the valley below.

“Red veins?” Imogen’s inquiry hangs in the air, dread creeping into her voice.

“Because magic corrupts their blood as they lose their souls,” Violet murmurs, her gaze fixed on Xaden with a steady calm that seems almost eerie against the backdrop of chaos. “Nature likes everything in balance. If the fables are true, at least.” She adds when everyone turns to her, her voice a soft balm amidst the rising storm.

How she is so calm right now is mind-boggling. Even if I hadn’t learned that Aetos is plotting my death, I’d still feel a step away from completely losing it.

“You almost did,” Desa interjects, her tone a gentle reminder, albeit a cutting one.

“Thank you, Desa, for the gentle reminders of my shortcomings,” I retort, the sarcasm barely masking my fraying nerves.

“Not shortcomings, Wise One. These moments will make you stronger,” she replies, her words laced with an ancient wisdom that feels like a distant echo.

“The guy with the staff just—” Liam begins again, but the sudden blast of an explosion rings out, echoing ominously up the sparsely treed valley, followed by a plume of blue smoke that rises like a malevolent specter into the sky. “Those were the gates,” he finishes, his voice hollow, the reality of their situation crashing down around them.

“How many people live in Resson?” Bodhi asks.

“More than three hundred,” Imogen answers.

“That’s the post they do the yearly trades at,” I add, the weight of the truth hanging heavily in the air, a bitter taste on my tongue. Images of traders, children, and families flicker through my mind, faces I’ve seen countless times over the years, now on the brink of annihilation.

“Then let’s get down there,” Bodhi urges, his impatience palpable, his resolve morphing into action. He pivots on his heel, the urgency in his voice a desperate plea. But Xaden, stepping back with a commanding presence, halts him with an outstretched hand, a barrier of authority meant to shield them all from reckless decisions. “You’re kidding me, right?” Bodhi’s incredulity bursts forth, his frustration crackling in the tense atmosphere like a live wire.

“We have no idea what we’re walking into,” Xaden responds, his tone brokering no argument, slipping seamlessly into full wingleader mode. His eyes, usually warm and filled with laughter, now blaze with the cold fire of caution.

“So we should just stand here while civilians die?” Bodhi counters, his voice rising, a mixture of anger and desperation intertwining with the urgency of the moment.

“You know that’s not what he’s saying, Bodhi,” I protest, my words quiet yet firm, still recovering from the panic that clawed at my throat moments before.

“This isn’t a fucking training exercise, Bodhi,” Xaden interjects, his voice steady but edged with a harrowing truth. “Some—if not all—of us are going to die if we go down there.” A knowing look flickers in his eyes as he glances at me, a silent acknowledgment of the horrors we’ve faced. I can feel the weight of that shared knowledge, the images of loss pressing against my consciousness, threatening to drown me.

“If we’d been assigned to an active wing, there would be far older, more experienced leadership making this decision, but there aren’t. If we weren’t marked with rebellion relics, if we hadn’t been aiding the enemy”—his gaze darts to mine briefly, the implications heavy—“we wouldn’t even be here with this choice. So, all command structure aside, what are your thoughts?”

“We have the numbers,” Soleil asserts, her voice cutting through the tension, a glimmer of hope amidst the impending dread. “And air superiority.”

“At least there aren’t any wyvern,” Violet adds, her eyes scanning the expansive sky, searching for any sign of the mythical creatures.

“Uh. What?” Bodhi’s eyebrows rise, confusion mingling with disbelief.

“Wyvern. Fables say venin created them to compete with dragons and, instead of channeling from them, channel power into them,” Violet explains, her voice laced with an unsettling calmness.

“Yeah, let’s not borrow trouble,” Xaden shoots a sideways look at Violet before returning his gaze to the heavens, wary of the unseen dangers lurking above.

“There are four venin and ten of us,” Garrick interjects, stepping away from the edge of the battlement, the gravity of their situation settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

“We have the weapons to kill them,” Liam states resolutely, turning his back on the valley, his voice strong against the tide of uncertainty. “And Deigh told me seven gryphon fliers—”

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a deep orange hue over the battlement as Syrena emerged from the shadows of the southeastern corner, her presence a stark contrast to the encroaching chaos.

“We’re here,” she announces. Her gaze drifted beyond the rampart, where plumes of smoke danced ominously against the twilight sky, curling up like tendrils of despair from the valley below.

“I left the rest of the drift outside once we noticed…” Her voice faltered momentarily, her shoulders dipping under the burden of her words. “…that your outpost seems to be… abandoned.” A heavy silence followed, the gravity of her statement settling in the air like a dark fog. She turned her gaze back to us, her eyes filled with a melancholy wisdom. “I’m not going to ask you to fight with us.”

“You’re not?” Garrick’s brows knitted together in disbelief, his voice barely above a whisper, an ember of hope flickering in his chest.

“No.” The sad smile that graced her lips spoke volumes, a bittersweet acceptance of the cruel realities before us. “Four of them is tantamount to a death sentence. The rest of my drift are making peace with our gods.” Her voice cracked slightly as she directed her attention to Xaden. “I came to tell you to leave. You have no clue what they’re capable of wielding. It only took two of them to bring down an entire city last month. Two. Of. Them.” Her voice hardened, and her eyes glinted with unshed tears. “We lost two drifts trying to stop them. If there are four down there…” She shook her head, the motion imbued with the weight of countless battles lost. “They’re after something, and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your riot and go home while you can.”

“If we don’t help, everyone dies,” I implored, the words spilling forth from a place of deep-seated conviction. “Syrena, let us help.”

“We have dragons,” Imogen chimed in, her voice rising with a fierce determination that hung heavy in the air. “Surely that has to count for something. We’re not afraid to fight.”

“Are you afraid to die? Have any of you seen combat?” Syrena’s voice sliced through the thick tension. The question lingered, hauntingly quiet, as the weight of truth settled upon us. No one could answer. Even the third years had merely watched from the sidelines, untouched by the horrors that awaited. “Thought not. Your dragons do count for something. They can fly you far and fast. Dragon fire won’t kill them. Only the daggers you’ve been bringing, and we have those.”

She met Xaden’s gaze, gratitude shining through her weary expression. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. You’ve kept us alive these last couple of years and given us a fighting chance.”

“You’re going down there to die,” Xaden says matter-of-factly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife through fog. The gravity of his words weighs heavily upon us, each syllable infused with a stark reality that no one can ignore.

“Yes.” Syrena’s affirmation is resolute, a solemn nod punctuated by the distant sound of another explosion reverberating across the valley. The air crackles with the tension of impending doom as she turns, the fabric of her cloak swirling around her like a tempest, her posture unyielding as she strides back down the rampart, head held high.

Xaden’s jaw clenched tightly, muscles taut with the weight of his conflicting emotions, the battle raging within his eyes.

“I won’t leave,” I declare to Desa.

“Sgaeyl and I feel the same.” Desa’s voice breaks through, steady and unwavering.

“Sgaeyl says she has never run from a fight, and today will not be the first. And I’m not going to stand by while innocent people are dying, either.” Xaden shakes his head, his expression a mixture of fierce resolve and protective caution. “But I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.”

“What deal?” I ask through our channel, my heart pounding in my chest, the urgency of the moment pressing down upon us like a lead weight.

“Live and I’ll tell you everything,” he replies, the promise hanging tantalizingly in the air.

“We’re riders,” Imogen interjects, her voice rising defiantly as another explosion shatters the silence. “We defend the defenseless. That’s what we do.”

“You saved every single one of us here, cousin,” Bodhi adds, the gratitude in his tone underscored by an unwavering commitment. “And we’re thankful. Now, I’d like to do what we’ve trained for, and if it means I don’t go home, then I guess my soul will be commended to Malek. I wouldn’t mind seeing my mother anyway.”

My heart aches at his words, for in this somber reality, the notion of dying for the right cause offers a bittersweet solace—if we perish today, perhaps we’d find peace in the embrace of those we’ve lost.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I did after Threshing our first year when we decided to start smuggling weaponry out,” Garrick says, his voice steady yet tinged with a familiarity that brings a sense of comfort. The weight of those memories hangs between us, a testament to our shared survival through the harsh trials we’ve faced. “You kept us alive all these years; we get to decide how we die. I’m with you.”

“You’ll tell me about Threshing too?” I ask, a knot of anticipation tightening in my chest.

“Everything, my love. No more secrets.” His eyes glimmer with a sincerity that calms the storm of uncertainty raging inside me.

“Exactly!” Soleil interjects, her fingers drumming against the hilt of the dagger sheathed at her thigh, the sharp sound echoing like a heartbeat amid the chaos of our decisions.

“I’m in.” Liam steps forward, resolute, positioning himself firmly by my side. “We watched as our parents were executed because they had the courage to do the right thing. I’d like to think my death would be just as honorable.” His words spill forth like molten steel, forged in the furnace of his grief and rage.

“Agreed.” Imogen nods, her fierce spirit evident in the set of her jaw. The solidarity we share ignites a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

One by one, our collective resolve solidifies until only Violet and I remain uncertain, caught in the tempest of choices laid before us.

“I won’t stop you,” Xaden tells me, his voice low and edged with concern. “But I’d prefer you far away from here.” His protective instinct is palpable, a shield against the cruel fate that looms over us.

“My mom died on the wrong side of history,” I reply, the weight of my conviction anchoring my heart. “I won’t.”

“Violet?” Liam questions gently, the attention shifting to her, the lone soul untouched by rebellion until now.

She studies each of us, her eyes darting back and forth as if weighing the gravity of our fate. As much as I’ve despised her presence since she joined our ranks, the thought of her perishing here feels insufferable. Keeping her alive could mean safeguarding Xaden as well.

“I’ve been defenseless, and now I’m a rider. Riders fight.” Her declaration rings out, a clarion call echoing our shared destiny.

I watch Xaden’s expression shift through a kaleidoscope of emotions, his concern for Violet battling against the fierce loyalty he carries for us all. In this moment of uncertainty, I cling to the flicker of hope he once offered, knowing that it’s that very light that can guide us through the encroaching darkness.

“Liam. Give me a report,” Xaden commands, his voice cutting through the tension, a beacon of direction amid our collective determination.

As the plan unfolds, everyone will focus on the Venin threat and the imperative task of evacuating civilians, while Garrick and I watch from the skies, providing recon while I have the silent permission to alter our course if need be.

“The only way to take them out is by dagger,” Xaden reminded the group, the gravity of our mission pressing down upon us like an impending storm.

“That means we’ll have to dismount and fight once we get the townspeople to whatever safety we can find,” Garrick adds, his expression set in grim lines, each word a reminder of the peril we’re choosing to face.

Xaden nods, the weight of leadership settling on his shoulders. “Save as many people as you can. Let’s go.”

Everything happens so fast, a relentless tide crashing over us. One moment, I’m focused intently on relaying vital information to Xaden, our words barely cutting through the cacophony of chaos surrounding us. The air is thick with tension, anticipation crackling like static electricity in the atmosphere. Then, without warning, a streak of red blazes through the sky, hurtling towards Tairn and Violet. My heart leaps into my throat, a primal instinct screaming danger.

“Liam!” I shout, urgency lacing my voice as I watch Tairn and Deigh besieged by a swarm of wyverns, their monstrous forms slicing through the air with razor-sharp talons. The world narrows to a singular focus. “I need you!” I call for Xaden.

“I’m hunting the Venin at the walls!” Xaden’s voice cuts through the din, laced with determination and fear.

“Please,” I responded, desperation rising like bile in my throat.

“If I leave, these civilians are all dead!” Xaden insists, his resolve hard as iron. “You can do this!”

The weight of his words strikes me deep. I can do this. Adrenaline surges through my veins, igniting a fierce fire in my heart. “We need to get the wyverns away from Deigh!” I urge Desa, who nods without hesitation, her wings unfurling as she dives toward the incoming beast.

Tairn is desperately trying to shake off the wyvern clinging to Deigh, its talons embedded deep in his scales, but his efforts seem futile against the creature’s relentless onslaught.

“Deigh!” Liam’s voice rings out, a sound that sends icy fear swirling through my chest.

“Hold on, Liam, please!” I cry, pouring every ounce of my heart into our shared connection, hoping he can feel my desperation.

“Wren?” he gasps, his voice strained.

“We’re on our way!” Xaden's reassurance filters through, but even Desa’s fierce determination can't mask the dread pooling in my stomach.

“It’s too late.”

And then, the piercing shriek fills the air, a harbinger of dread that will haunt my every nightmare. “DEIGH!” I feel Desa’s mourning echo in the very marrow of my bones.

“We’re too late,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I watch Violet rush toward Deigh’s fallen body. Desa lands beside me, and I slide off, running to Violet, who struggles to keep Liam’s weakening form upright. They stumble, and I dive to his side, the world blurring around me.

“Wrennie,” he coughs, and my heart shatters.

“I’m here,” I say, grasping his hand, the warmth slipping away.

“You were…” His voice falters, and I feel like I'm choking on the weight of the moment as I gaze up at Violet. Her face, streaked with tears, radiates despair as she cradles Liam’s other hand. “You were in my head, like Deigh could.”

“Yea, Li. It’s my signet,” I reply, letting out a heavy sigh, ignoring Violet’s reaction to my words.

“That’s cool.” He manages to force out a laugh, but it’s riddled with pain, a sound that twists like a knife in my heart. “Take care of Sloane for me, both of you?”

“No.” Violet’s voice trembles, her shock morphing into fervent denial as she tears her gaze from me, a lifeline slipping through her fingers. “You’ll be there. You have to be there.”

“Promise me, Wrennie.” Liam’s focus shifts to me, his eyes reflecting a vulnerability that makes my heart ache. “She’ll need someone. Just… don’t let her be alone.”

“I promise.” A tear escapes, trailing down my cheek. “I got her, Li.”

“Good. That’s good.” He forces a weak smile, the dimple that usually brings warmth now a ghost of joy that fades far too quickly. “And I know you feel betrayed, but Xaden needs you. Please hear him out.”

“Okay,” I nod, swallowing the lump of conflicting emotions lodged in my throat. “I can’t promise I won’t stab him though.”

“I’m counting on it.” His sigh resonates in the tense air, a rattle that pierces the silence with its fragility. “Just show him you're still here.”

He turns to Violet, whose cries grow louder, each sob echoing the grief that hangs heavy around us as I feel the pulse beneath Liam's skin start to slow.

“Thank you, Liam. Thank you for being my shadow. Thank you for being my friend.” The words tumble out, imbued with the depth of our shared memories, each moment a thread in the tapestry of our lives.

“It’s been… my honor.” The wind picks up, swirling around us as if trying to carry away the sorrow, but it only amplifies the cries of Xaden as he approaches, despair etched into his features.

“No, Liam.”

“Deigh,” Liam pleads with Xaden, who quickly moves to lift him, a fierce determination in his eyes.

“I know, brother. I’ll take you.”

In that moment, I push back into Liam’s mind, desperately seeking the door, the void beyond fading with each beat of his heart. I force forward the bright moments, clinging to the essence of who he is as I watch Xaden lower him to Deigh’s shoulder, my heart heavy with the weight of impending loss.

I pull the memories from when his mother would bring him to Aretia on her visits, each recollection flooding my mind like the gentle rush of a stream. I can almost feel the sun-drenched warmth of those days, the laughter echoing through the vibrant halls of Xaden’s home, a place that once felt so safe. How the five of us—Garrick, Bodhi, Xaden, Liam, and I—would race through those corridors, our feet barely touching the ground as we chased after fleeting moments of joy. The fields outside were a canvas of green, where we’d tumble and play, the scent of wildflowers dancing in the air, our shouts mingling with the whispers of the wind.

The late nights when Liam and I would huddle in the library, pages turning like the fluttering of wings as we devoured every book we could find. Garrick and Xaden would eventually have to carry us to our rooms when we fell asleep by the hearth. Those last days together before I left, where every laugh, every smile, every hug seemed to etch themselves into the very fabric of my heart, now echo in the silence around us.

I slowly walk to them, still pulling memories like fragile threads as I kneel beside Xaden. His arm wraps around me and Liam’s pale face, and for a fleeting moment, I swear it gets brighter, a soft glow of hope in the midst of despair.

“Make up. For me.” He whispers, but I can sense the heaviness in his fading voice, a plea that carries the weight of his love. “I always wanted to find what you two have.”

“We’ll work it out, brother. I promise.” Xaden’s voice wavers, and I hadn’t even realized he was crying until now, the tears mingling with the anguish in the air.

I nod along with Xaden’s promise. “Nothing could keep us apart.” The truth is, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back from this, but I’d say anything to put Liam at ease as I watch each of his breaths become a struggle against the inevitable.

We look up at the sound of wingbeats, the sky darkening with dozens of wyvern soaring overhead, a stark reminder of the battle that still looms. I turn my gaze back down, seeing Liam’s head lolled to the side, his eyes unblinking, and a surge of sorrow grips my heart.

“Goodbye, Liam.” I cry, my voice cracking, as Xaden releases a heart-wrenching scream. I pull him into my arms, our shared grief spilling into the open air, raw and unyielding. “We have to finish this, Xay. For Liam.”

“I can’t—” Xaden gasps, pulling back to look at me and then at Liam, torn between the present and the loss. “I can’t leave him.”

“I’ll stay,” I promise. “Desa and I will keep the wyvern away, but you need to go help.”

Xaden nods, determination hardening his features as he stands, pulling me up with him. “Stay alive. So we can talk.” His hand rests on my cheek, forcing me to look into his eyes, a silent vow passing between us.

“You too.” I nod, the weight of his gaze anchoring me.

With a gentle press of his lips to my forehead, Xaden sprints toward Violet and their dragons, the urgency of the moment propelling him forward.

“Desa,” I start, but she’s already beside me, fierce and resolute.

“No one gets to them.”

“Garrick!” I call, my voice strained and raw, slicing through the aftermath of chaos as I watch the last wyvern crash to the earth in a plume of dust and blood. My heart beats heavily in my chest, each thud a reminder of the grief lingering in the corners of my mind, but the sight of my cousin sprinting toward me only brings relief.

“Wrenley!” He envelops me in his arms, and the rush of adrenaline that has fueled my every move finally begins to ebb, leaving me feeling as fragile as a dried leaf. The warmth of his embrace is a lifeline, a momentary sanctuary. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The words spill out, but they feel hollow as they hang in the air. My thoughts drift immediately to the bodies behind us. “Liam—”

“I know.” Garrick’s sigh is heavy with unspoken sorrow as he gently leads me toward Desa.

“Where’s Xaden?” My voice quivers, laced with anxiety as I search for him. The thought of him in danger sends a chill down my spine, a feeling I can’t shake.

“Violet was stabbed with a poison-covered knife.” Garrick's words strike like lightning, and my breath catches in my throat. “Since Sgaeyl is the fastest besides Tairn, he’s rushing her to the nearest healer. We’re going to meet him.”

“And where is that?” The question slips out before I can filter my thoughts, desperation creeping into my tone, a thread of worry weaving through my heart.

“Home.”

next part

Everything Taglist: @lxnvmvrzx @bodhidurrans @bookwormysblog @nikfigueiredo

Chasing Shadows Taglist: @hiraethjules @fangirling-galore @sande5098 @javden @littlepippilongstocking @what-will-be-your-verse @xadenstyles @daisydark @messageforthesmallestman @taleiaargenis

#Chasing Shadows #iron flame #fourth wing #onyx storm #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x oc #oc! Wrenley Tavis #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader

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chained-spirits · 1 month ago

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Hey, feather, kokiri...

Are you afraid of the hand in the toilets ? 👀

Both games have a hand in the toilet, both have completely different personalities

Idk man, mm toilet hand is just a chill guy

#chained spirits #cs inbox #ask #ask box #cs ask box #tloz #legend of zelda #loz zelda #cs #link #zelda fandom #my art #tloz au #artwork #link meets au #art ask #art asks #cs kokiri #cs feathers

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 8 months ago

Text

NOW CLOSED!

Wanna win a queer historical romance book? Wanna win.... TWO queer historical romance books??

@tjalexandernyc and I are hosting a joint giveaway to celebrate our upcoming novels!

Enter for a chance to win a prize pack that includes ALL THE PAINTED STARS by Emma Denny, an advance reading copy of A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN (UK title: THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH) by TJ Alexander, plus secret extra swag and treats.

To enter, just fill in this Google Form.

Giveaway will close on the 5th November - the date All the Painted Stars comes out in the US - so you've got one week to enter! Full blurbs as well as Ts&Cs under the cut.

ALL THE PAINTED STARS

When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna’s hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo’s hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily’s control, Jo must help her escape.

Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo’s past catches up with her and Lily’s reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that the choices they make will always have a cost.

***

A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN/THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH

The notoriously eccentric Lord Christopher Eden is a “man of unusual make” and even more unusual habits: he prefers to live far from the prying eyes and ears of the ton, and would rather have the comfortable company of his childhood cook and his aged butler than the swarm of servants and hangers-on befitting a man of his station.

But Christopher’s pleasant, if occasionally lonely life is upended when he receives word from his lawyers that, according to his late father’s will, he must find a wife by the end of the Season if he intends to keep his family’s fortune and the Eden estate. If his quest to marry has any hope of succeeding, he must move to London posthaste and acquire some more suitable staff. Enter James Harding, Christopher’s new, distractingly handsome—if rigidly traditional—valet.

***

Terms & Conditions

Open internationally. No purchase necessary. One entry per person at the link provided. Sweepstakes not affiliated with or endorsed by Google, Vintage Books, HQ, or any other entity. One winner will be randomly selected at 3 PM EST on November 5, 2024 and alerted via email. Winner will be required to share a valid mailing address in order to receive prizes.

#bookblr #reading #books #queer books #historical romance

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xjulixred45x · 2 months ago

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Azul would be impressed by CS!Yuu’s natural charisma, using her talents in dancing and singing at the Monstro Lounge to lift his customers spirits while also coming out one at a time with meals and drinks, giving everyone a smile as she hopes they’ll come again

The Monstro Lounge ends up becoming very popular and busy whenever CS!Yuu is working, either as entertainment or as a little waitress *trainee*

Azul is impressed by CS!Yuu’s abilities despite her age, showing she’s very smart and capable

CS!Yuu becomes the little Pearl of the Fish Mafia, as she’s able to handle a lot of work while keeping her bubbly smile that encourages others to come back again for the food

Floyd calls CS!Yuu ‘Shrimplet’ because she’s a ‘Young Shrimp’ and likes whenever she suddenly starts to dance and sing catchy little tunes and songs from her world (He either joins or watches her dance and sing, it’s a coin flip with him)

You can’t tell me Floyd wouldn’t dash and snatch CS!Yuu up and run off with her in his arms to play games, nap or do something fun *Ignoring everyone chasing and yelling at him to put her down right now!*

Jade or Azul make a beverage after CS!Yuu because she was dining with Grim and wanted a drink that looked as fancy looking as the students but something she can actually drink (The drink ends up becoming very popular at Monstro Lounge) and it is, yes, a Shirley Temple, but they name it after Child Star!Yuu

CS!Yuu is more willing to eat Jade’s mushrooms because growing up in her time she couldn’t be picky with food

Fun Fact: Shrimps and Eels have a symbolic relationship, Cleaner Shrimps help clean Moray Eels and Moray Eels provide Cleaner Shrimps with protection, as CS!Yuu helps the Tweels with cleaning duty as well as helping them with any tasks and the Tweels in return protect CS!Yuu if they notice any bullying or teasing that’s ‘not nice’

Their whole entire dynamic is a very wholesome and platonic Fish Mafia with CS!Yuu being their little Entertainer (It’s very wholesome and cute)

This ends up being so much funnier if CS!Yuu gets the upper hand and outsmarts Azul, as he originally saw her as a naive child, but now he realizes they’re birds of the same feather and is now much more affectionate and friendly towards her (Like how he now is with Jamil) only, Vil steps in to pull CS!Yuu away with a glare that tells Azul to back off!!

This is what I have so far with the Fish Mafia (I refuse to spell out their dorm because I can’t remember all those letters 😭)

💖 Anon

I LOVE THIS!! It definitely feels quite in character for the Octavinelle trio to a certain extent.

Child Star! Yuu probably wanted to start working at the Monstre Louge before the events of Book 3. After that, as compensation, Azul lets her participate, seeing that, unlike her classmates, she DOES have a good singing voice (he'll never admit he feels bad about almost killing a little girl).

Honestly, Azul was expecting a decent performance, but nothing extraordinary (Vil: poor fool), he just wanted to get the debt out of the way. What Azul didn't expect was that Yuu would also be good at dancing and entertaining the general public, even without a specific script. Yuu's improvisational ability and the way she connected with the audience was genuinely extraordinary for someone so young.

Not only that, but people even outside the dorm LOVE HER, and can he really blame them? It's a novelty, and a very good one at that. So Azul allows her to continue coming whenever she wants, alternating between working as a singer or as a waitress apprentice (with Jade and Floyd supervising her, obviously).

Speaking of the twins, Yuu now practically has her own bodyguard duo. Sure, they love to bother her from time to time or give her cleaning duties, but they stop when Yuu calls them on Azul or when they go too far. They also make sure no one tries to mess with the little shrimplet (many students have tried to take advantage of their age difference to make tasteless jokes, take advantage of Yuu's physical disadvantage, or, at best, exclude her from activities).

Jade is happy that someone is finally eating his mushroom dishes so eagerly, though he's slightly worried that Yuu won't even hesitate for a second to eat whatever you put in front of her as long as it's not rotten (it reminds him of a certain hyena...). The idea that he and Azul decided to make a drink so Yuu could have something like the other students is very sweet.

Floyd definitely tries to encourage Yuu to be more chaotic, or at least let him be chaotic for the both of them. Yuu is so used to the point that at some point during the day, Floyd will just come, pick her up like a stuffed animal, and drag her off to do something with him (while having several students looking on, worried, confused, etc.), much to the displeasure of Vil and the other members of Pomefiore, who will probably try to chase him in vain (he has long legs, that's coal).

I don't know why the idea of Yuu and Floyd dancing makes me so happy. Probably because Floyd is so tall, he has to either 1. lift Yuu up to his height (and probably spin her around more than he should, lol), or 2. Floyd has to bend down a lot to even get on decent level with Yuu (he'll have a sore back later, but it was worth it!).

We already know that it's Yuu (the player) who ultimately defeats Azul in Book 3, but that doesn't mean our Yuu doesn't also have a part in his downfall. After all, pretending to be innocent is a great tool, something Azul respects. It's ironic how before he acted like he wanted to suffocate this girl just for existing, and now he gets stressed if she doesn't come to visit at least once a week.

Absolutely, Azul and Vil are pretty tense right now. Azul has tried (and will probably continue to) get Vil to sign a very partial contract to "share" custody of Yuu, which Vil cursed without thinking much about. It's like a constant tug-of-war, but at least they have the decency not to be violent when Yuu is present or looking in their direction (they're definitely giving each other death glares when she's not looking).

Anyway, the perks of being the fish mafia's favorite.

_______

(ESPAÑOL)

AMO ESTO!! Definitivamente se siente bastante en personaje para el trio Octavinille hasta cierto punto.

Child Star! Yuu probablemente quiso empezar a trabajar en el Monstre Louge desde antes de los acontecimientos del libro 3, después de eso, por compensación, Azul le deja participar al ver que, a diferencia de sus compañeros, ella SI tiene una buena voz para cantar (el nunca admitirá que se siente mal por casi haber matado a una niña pequeña).

Sinceramente, Azul estaba esperando una actuación decente, pero nada extraordinario (Vil: pobre iluso), solo quería quitarse la deuda de encima. Lo que Azul no esperaba era que Yuu también fuera buena con la danza y entretener al público en general, incluso sin tener un guion concreto. La capacidad de improvisación de Yuu y la forma en la que congeniaba con el público era genuinamente extraordinaria para alguien tan joven.

No solo eso, sino que la gente de incluso fuera del dormitorio LA ADORA ¿y realmente puede culparlos? Es una novedad, y una novedad muy buena. Así que Azul permite que ella siga viniendo cuando quiera, alternando entre trabajar como cantante o como aprendiz de camarera (con la supervisión de Jade y Floyd obviamente).

Hablando de los gemelos, Yuu ahora tiene prácticamente su propio dúo de guardaespaldas. Claro, ellos aman molestarla de vez en cuando o darle sus tareas de limpieza, pero se detienen cuando Yuu los acusa con Azul o cuando van demasiado lejos. Además, se aseguran que nadie intente meterse con el camaroncito (muchos estudiantes han intentado aprovecharse de la diferencia de edad para hacer bromas de mal gusto, aprovecharse de la desventaja física de Yuu o en el mejor de los casos excluirla de actividades).

Jade está feliz de que alguien finalmente se coma con tanto desespero sus platos con hongos, aunque está ligeramente preocupado de que Yuu ni siquiera dude un segundo en comer lo que sea que le pongas en frente con tal que no esté podrido (le recuerda a cierta hiena…). La idea de que el y Azul decidieron hacer una bebida para que Yuu pudiera tomar algo como los demás estudiantes es muy tierna.

Floyd definitivamente trata de animar a Yuu a ser más caótica, o al menos dejarle ser caótico por los dos. Yuu está acostumbrada a este punto que en algún punto del dia, Floyd simplemente vendrá, la levantara como un peluche y la llevara a hacer algo junto a él (mientras tienen a varios estudiantes mirándolos preocupados, confundidos, etc) muy para el desagrado de Vil y los otros miembros de Pomefiore que probablemente intenten perseguirlo en vano (tiene piernas largas el carbón).

No sé por qué la idea de Yuu y Floyd bailando me pone tan feliz, probablemente con lo alto que es Floyd el tiene que 1-levantar a Yuu para que este a su altura (y probablemente procede a hacerla girar mas de la cuenta lol) o 2-Floyd se tiene que agachar muchísimo para siquiera estar a un nivel decente con Yuu (¡el quedara con dolor de espalda más tarde, pero valio la pena!).

Ya sabemos que es Yuu(el jugador) quien le termina ganando sobre Azul en el libro 3, pero eso no quiere decir que nuestra Yuu no tenga parte que ver su caída también, después de todo aparentar ser inocente es una gran herramienta, algo que Azul respeta. Es irónico como antes el actuaba como si quisiera ahogar a esta niña nomas por existir, y ahora se estresa si ella no viene de visita al menos una vez a la semana.

Totalmente Azul y Vil están bastante tensos ahora. Azul ha intentado (y probablemente siga) hacer que Vil firme un contrato muy parcial para “compartir” la custodia de Yuu, el cual Vil maldijo sin pensar mucho. Es como un tira y afloja constante, pero al menos tienen la decencia de no ser violentos cuando Yuu esta presente o mirando en su dirección (definitivamente se están dando miradas de muerte cuando ella no ve).

En fin, las ventajas de ser la favorita de la mafia pez.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

#headcanons #fem reader #español #spanish #child!yuu #twst #twst x reader #twst x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x mc #platonic twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #platonic reader

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lichpassing · 1 year ago

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Let's talk about spring hounds!

Spring hounds are the analog for dogs on Aurum, occupying a similar niche to wolves. They became domesticated a lot later than ours did, having become genetically distinct from their ancestors about 20,000 years ago. Because of this, along with other factors, they aren’t as physically diverse as our dogs are, but they fill many different niches and do have distinct breeds.

Remains of their ancestor species were found in singer burial grounds as far back as around 48,000 years ago! That’s around 20,000 years before Aurum’s last mass extinction event! The working theory for why it took them so long to become their own species is that bands of C singers would kidnap pups and raise them as their own on occasion. Since that was uncommon at the time, domestication just didn’t have the chance to come about until later.

Later on, because of an asteroid impact, populations of most species dropped drastically or completely disappeared. Spring hounds ancestors had a hard time coping with the post-impact world, and taking more scraps from the species who can hunt large game seemed very alluring. Over the next few thousand years, as the two singer species started to get more and more intertwined, spring hounds changed a lot. Close proximity to C singers made them much more sociable, trainable, and visually appealing (yay neoteny).

The reason why working with this species specifically was so appealing to Cs was the difference in their hunting methods. Cs are ambush predators, they can reach extremely high speeds, but not for very long. Spring hounds are endurance predators, they can pursue prey for much longer. When whatever is being hunted tries to escape, spring hounds are there to cut them off or herd them back to the hunting party. It's a system that benefits both, and that forged a deep bond between the two species.

Spring hounds still exist in the modern day, they're a very common working animal and even more common companions. It's common practice for Cs who give birth to only one child to get their child a spring hound pup to play and socialize with.

E singers also keep them as pets, but their relationship with them is similar to our relationship with cats. Spring Hounds are slightly intimidated by Es size, and Es have a harder time forming bonds with them because of this. However, they are still pretty popular pets, and the two can form close bonds with each other like Cs can. Es just need to approach them with more patience and understanding.

Biology

With strong legs, stocky bodies, and mouths full of sharp teeth, spring hounds make formidable predators. Their body plan is similar to that of a kangaroo because of their shared need for endurance. They can hop at a stable speed for miles, pursuing prey until the exhaustion overcomes them.

Their tail has the same 3 segments most members of their class do, and it's used as a leg when they aren’t moving. The only exception to this is the awkward shuffle they do to move very short distances.

Their feet have one large claw to hook onto prey while they hold them down. Since they hunt in packs, they use their collective weight to hold down whatever they catch.

Large ears give them great hearing, allowing them to be alerted to things moving a considerable distance away from them. The long, thin feathers on their head are connected to recessive ears, which evolved to be used for communication and courtship.

Spring pups are much fluffier, lacking the tusks and open ears of an adult hound. Their young are more altricial than Cs, and are unable to walk or hear for a few weeks after they are born. The two parents of the pups will take turns watching over the litter while the other one hunts. They can start eating meat after a couple of days but cannot crack through shells and bones until they're older.

On average an adult spring hound is about 2-3 feet tall, but some breeds get closer to 1 or 4 feet.

Their mouths are a bit overcomplicated, again like most animals in their class. One thing that sets them and the species closely related to them apart is the fact they are both carnivorous and have external tusks. The external tusks are not really for hunting, but for manipulating and holding onto carrion, and for building nests. Unlike their internal tusks, the external ones can move slightly up and down. They'll hold objects between their external tusks and tongue, and while they don't have the strongest grip, it makes up for their lack of forelegs or arms. The internal ones are used for hunting, so they’re are more firmly set in the jaw and are much sharper. Their beak is the real star of the show, however, it's the strongest part of their mouth and can bite through a lot of the harder parts of the animals they eat. In households, they have a bad habit of biting chair legs in half that are too thin if they don't get trained to use a designated chew toy. The “tongue” inside is a radula, and it's covered in thousands of teeth.

Their eye color ranges from yellow to red, but their sclera is usually the same shade of very dark blue. Similarly to c singers, their eyes are not round, and are instead eye stalks similar to a mantis shrimps underneath skin, fat, and muscle. Their eyes rotation is limited, and they often will rotate their heads or bodies to get a good look at something. The “pull apart” style pupil is common amongst more nocturnal or crepuscular predators, with spring hounds falling into the latter category.

Coat genetics

There are 12 categories of spring hound base coat colors, with 4 major color categories. Brown and tan are the most common, with black being a bit more uncommon and red being the rarest. The dilute gene is self explanatory, it lightens the color and patterning of the coat to varying degrees, nothing too flashy. The blush dilute is somewhat similar, but it impacts the pheomelanin less than the eumelanin, therefore it leaves a bit more of a rosy tone. The gene for dilute and blush dilute are both recessive, but it might show up again if the same type of dilute gene exists in both parents.

There are some other colors that are the result of genetic mutations. All white coats don't exist in spring hounds standard coat colors, but leucistic spring hounds are not uncommon, so it was assumed they were part of the standard array. Albinism and melanism are both rather rare, but melanism doesn't come with health issues like albinism does, outside of being more vulnerable to heat stroke in some regions. Spring hounds with albinism tend to be visually impaired or blind, and it also weakens their tusks enough to require a diet with less hard bones and shells.

The most common coat pattern is the colorpoint pattern. On earth, colorpoint cats have pigment in the warmest parts of their bodies. Spring hounds get pigment on the parts of their body that get the most sun exposure. This coat pattern comes about with age, and the amount of sun exposure they get in their early years has an impact on how dark their fur gets, along with genetics. Pigment shows up on the feet and under the tail because body heat does have some influence over where pigment shows up. This patterning frequently shows up along with other coat patterns, and most spring hounds will at least have a faint version of it under their stripes or splotches.

The other common coat pattern for spring hounds is stripes, but some patterns are less common than others.

The most common stripe pattern, feral populations would often revert back to this pattern after a few generations.

The same as above but with more intense striping.

The equivalent of a blotched tabby, it’s less common but not rare.

The same as above but with more intense striping, this is a very popular stripe pattern.

A much more rare version of the common striped pattern, with less striping and larger light patches.

A similarly uncommon version of the “blotched” stripe pattern with larger light patches.

The primary multicolored gene has a lot of color variety within it, with the gene causing specific pigments in the fur to either be greatly reduced or absent entirely. This exists in all fur coat genetics, but shows up a bit differently in all of them. Pigment loss tends to be concentrated on the underside of the body. Above are some examples of how this gene can change a spring hounds coat.

A lack of eumelanin, causing the affected fur to have a red to orange hue.

A complete lack of melanin, causing the effected fur to have a white hue.

A partial lack of melanin, causing the affected area to be a diluted tone, it can have a “blush” tone if the spring hound carries the gene for it.

An example of how the first version of the multicolor gene would look on a brown fur tone, the genes do not add pigment, so they change in accordance to the melanin ratios in each fur tone.

There can also be white spotting that goes along with this gene, here are a few examples of what that looks like on different variations of the multicolor gene.

Finally, here are some examples of different coat lengths. While these exist on a wide spectrum, they usually fall between 1 and 2. 3 is only really seen in breeds from polar regions and occasionally in mutts with the genetics for it. Short fur is seen as the most aesthetically pleasing, as it is easier to maintain and keep neat.

There are many, many combinations of all of these genes, giving spring hounds a wide variety of coats.

As for other physical features, the genetics are less clearly understood for a few reasons. Namely the fact they have not put much effort into recording the lineages of breeds.

While there are no agreed upon breed standards, spring hounds have still changed in accordance to their jobs. Differences in appearance are either practical or purely incidental, breeding for specific traits for aesthetic reasons is more common in domestic fungi or plants. The image above is just a few examples of the variety of appearances.

Fun facts

They clack their beaks when they're content, it sounds a bit like this, but muffled.

A common play behavior is to nudge their companion with their tusks, which hurts BAD if they’re being rough or are running up to you before doing it. This is discouraged at a young age as to not cause any actual damage when they’re larger and stronger.

They’re mesocarnivores, with about 60% of their diet being meat.

Their favorite places to be pet are usually behind their ears, their cheeks, and the top of their back and tail.

#thank you my good friend cosmo for the name! and everybody who helped beta read this too!#spec bio #speculative biology #my art #worldbuilding #singers #ive been working on this for a bit over 5 months im finally done im free im alive and breathing fresh air #i feel like chell post portal 2

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