we’re all mad here ♪

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

His body is as warm as ever. Even in the coldest of nights, he warms your shivering self like an ever-present fire.

Malleus has been asleep for a day and a half now.

You are not without food. The day before he went to sleep, he left while you were unconscious and came back with dozens of fish and a bushel of frozen over juniper berries. You asked what the occasion was, only for him to respond with a plainly stated, "I might not awaken tomorrow."

After your near-death at the hands of your own panic, he explained that now that it is winter, he is liable to enter states of near hibernation. Which would explain why he's been asleep more often than not.

You're cradled in the curve of his body where it winds around itself. You can hear his every breath, deep and sometimes a little grumbly. Pressing your ear to his scaly side gives you an even clearer sound. Every inhale bubbles up in his body, a rumble sounding from within before the air is pushed back out of his nostrils in a puff of smoke. You think that maybe, in the background, you can hear the faint thumps of what must be his massive, draconic heart. Maybe if you keep pushing, you'll eventually hear the blood as it moves through his veins.

You're reminded of the footsteps you saw a handful of days ago as you get lost in the gradients on his scales. Whoever came up here, you're almost certain it must've been the kingdom's guards. Your town has always been chock-full of them, given the importance of providing sacrifices to the ruler of the mountain. The guards must be alert after Malleus flew through the sky. After he had roared so loud it had shaken the snow from the trees.

All because of you, because you just had to have your answers. Because you couldn't keep your damned hopes under control. The mistress was right in this regard. You should've just kept stamping out those sprouts before they could grow.

Malleus shifts, and you pull your face away from his side. You watch as his large, elongated head rises from the other side of his tail.

"Good morning," you say, before realizing you're not sure if it's actually morning. It's cloudy today, so you can't see where the sun is from the opening in the cave's ceiling.

He blinks at you, very slowly, then yawns big enough for you to see his green, forked tongue and all of his dagger-sharp teeth.

You're aware that this is probably the last being in the world who needs protection. He could eat an entire scouting group in two bites and one gulp. But in the same way he continues to shield you from pain and starvation, you also wish to return the favor.

If concealing this one occurrence means that he can keep being drowsy, all slow rolling movements, and content heaving sighs, then you'll be quiet for the rest of your life.

Malleus moves, making you lean forward as he resettles himself around you.

"Are you going back to sleep?" You ask as you crawl across the cold, rocky floor following his guiding nudges.

He grunts, his head leaning down towards you. His snout takes up your entire field of vision, and you can smell the ash on his breath when he suddenly huffs in your face. He does that a few more times before you realize that he's sniffing you, especially when his forked tongue suddenly flicks out and back.

"Sorry," you say as a knee-jerk reaction. You wiped yourself down a week ago, and it's been almost a month since you've last bathed. You can't imagine that you smell like roses and honey at the moment.

He blinks in reply, which you fill in as him not understanding what you're talking about.

Then he bumps you with his nose. You're not sure what that means since it's a first. But then he sets his head down next to you. His horns, now that you're faced with them up close, are massive. They spiral just the slightest, like vines up a trellis. Even in this dimly lit cavern, they seem to shine like they've been freshly polished.

One of your hands twitches when you imagine what they must feel like. Would they be as warm to the touch as the rest of him?

He groans, a long, drawn-out exhale, then settles as he seems to recede to his slumber.

You're surrounded by him, and you're not sure when he will wake up next. Which is a problem because he's left you no means of leaving the protective circle of his body.

Good thing you already went out to relieve yourself today, at least.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

You have no idea how to live without Malleus.

Malleus woke up for dinner just to confirm that you were there and eating before going right back to sleep. He didn't even leave to eat for himself. It doesn't sit right with you. For you to be warmed by his body and filled with food through his efforts while he's left to remain unconscious. It makes you feel all sorts of wrong and ungrateful.

But how do you remedy that? Go out and hunt. But with what? How do you hunt? You can't throw a rock as fast and far as an arrow. You technically have access to a dagger, but you have no idea how to use it. Let alone somehow get close enough to an animal to kill it.

Malleus is awake this morning. He woke up along with you when you needed to pee, and therefore needed to inform him in order to get out. You had to politely remind him, for not the first time, and with flushed cheeks and shifting feet, that he needed to stay here while you did so. When you were done, you found him waiting for you in the shadow of the cave's opening.

"Would you teach me how to kill?"

Malleus's head sharply turns to you. He is dressed as a human and sits beside you while the water within a shiny, silver kettle sits over the fire. Within the piles of treasure he hoards, you had found a block of tea hidden within a large, golden tin some time ago. You have no idea how long he's had it, nor for how long it's been left to age, but so far it has not gotten you ill since you both have started drinking it.

"What purpose do you intend to kill for?"

His voice never fails to settle something within you. Even when you're unaware that anything needs settling.

"For you."

In a rare display of surprise, his eyes widen.

"For me?" He echoes.

"Well, yes." You fidget with the hem of your overcoat. "You always provide for me, so I would like to return the favor."

He stares and doesn't say anything for a long stretch of time.

"I would like to help get our food too," you reiterate, feeling twitchy from his continued silence. "Since you take such good care of me, I want to care for you too."

He blinks, and you watch as his pupils start to rapidly expand until the black starts to overtake the green.

"… Malleus?" You whisper his name tentatively.

He blinks in quick succession.

"One day," is what he finally decides to say. Then starts pushing at the collar of your clothes insistently. Next thing you know, you're in his lap, and he's staring at the place where he had sunk his teeth into weeks ago.

His eyes are gaping pools of black. The green is all but a sliver of color around his pupils.

"Still there?" You say after a moment of him blankly staring at your shoulder. You feel warm under his gaze, but it comes from inside you. Like he's burning a fire in your belly just from the weight of his eyes on your skin.

He hums, absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what you're saying, it seems. You feel his fingers brush once, twice, then a third time over the scarring before he starts to lean in.

Then you hear the sizzle of water hitting fire, and look behind you to see the kettle boiling over.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

Once again, you find Malleus standing at the opening of the cave, waiting for you to return.

"You do not have to wait for me," you tell him when you see his big, serpentine eyes blink sleepily as he watches you approach. "I will return, I promise."

He grumbles. It sounds like it rolls around in his chest, almost a growl.

You don't say anything else and follow his lumbering form back into the cavern. And you don't tell him about the new set of footprints that you found further up the mountain path.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

"Do you dream?"

Malleus is watching you attempt to cook some fish while he reclines back on one of his hands, legs splayed out and one knee bent as a perch for his other arm. You can't help but imagine what he might look like on a throne, with a crown of gold around his velvet black horns.

"Naturally," he says, not looking up from where his eyes are trained on the ground.

You look down and see that the pant leg of your trousers has ridden up, exposing skin. You fix it, and only then does he look at you.

"What do you dream of?" You ask.

He thinks about that as you raise the fish, skewered on a stick, to check to see if you have burnt it yet. So far, you are doing well, better than yesterday's attempt.

"The sky."

His tone sounds almost wistful. His face is as blank as usual, but beneath his gaze, you think he might be thinking about said dreams. The ones where he is free to fly whenever he likes.

"So do I," you tell him. He doesn't respond, so you elaborate. "I dream about when you flew with me in your claws."

Immediately, his expression sours at the reminder.

"I hope it has served its lesson, then." He rumbles, slowly rising to stalk closer to you.

"Yes," you say, really just to placate him. You're all but certain that the flutter in your stomach every time you think about being held up in his draconic grasp isn't the type of lesson he was going for. "I have learned my lesson."

He hums, almost like a purr, then sits himself at your back. Pressing almost every inch of his bared chest against you. Between the fire and him, you feel like you're being cooked on all sides by heat.

It's interesting, you think, how a month prior you would've shied away from such proximity. Now you can't imagine your life without his warmth at your back.

Something is burning. You look back at your fish and see that it's started to crisp.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

"When you said one day," you say as he comes lumbering in with another bushel of juniper berries in his mouth, "what day did you mean?"

He carefully sets down the bush next to your cauldron of water. He slept for nearly two full days this time. You managed to cook for yourself just fine, but you couldn't help but think about how useless you were once again. You could've been hunting in that time, getting water, even. Had something prepared for when he woke up. Instead, you sit and stay idle, waiting for him to awaken. Making him get food and water the minute he's conscious.

"Teaching me to hunt," you go on, sitting up into a kneel. "What day did you have in mind?"

He regards you, then curls down into himself. In a bright flash of light that you have to shield your eyes from, he appears in his human form.

"When the winter starts to recede," he says.

"No." The word echoes across the space, and you realize you had raised your voice. "Sorry, I-I—" You exhale shakily, wringing your cold, cold hands beneath your cloak. "I did not mean to shout, I promise. I just don't want to be—"

Without your notice, he has closed the distance between you two. He reaches for you, but you don't see him. For a moment, you see the mistress. He stops when you jerk away, nearly falling to your back in your haste.

Your heart plummets in your chest, and you feel like you're about to choke on your next breath. You try to speak, to apologize, plead, anything. You can't produce a single sound. It's all wrong, you're all wrong. It used to be so easy to seek forgiveness, to appeal, and now you are struggling. When he is the one you fear disappointing the most. Not even being under the mistress's critical eyes can compare to this sick, twisted knot that's made itself home in your stomach. It freezes the air in your lungs, numbs the skin on your bones, fills your head with a buzzing fog until you can barely think straight.

You think you could die like this, gasping and choking on your own tongue.

"Child of Man."

Even swallowed up by panic, you listen and hear his voice.

"Breathe."

You do, you really try, but it comes out fast and frantic.

"No, slowly. Draw deep, then let it all go."

You inhale, long and slow, even if it pains you. Then let it all out in a huff.

"That is correct. Take every breath carefully until it no longer pains you."

You follow his directions, even when it feels like you can't. You keep breathing, slow and drawn out. Then it starts getting a little easier, and easier. Until the knot in your gut starts to unwind, and your head feels clearer. You take your head out from between your knees, though you have no idea when you put it there to begin with.

Malleus is kneeling just an arm's reach away. When he sees you looking, he tilts his head.

"You are alright?"

You open your mouth to answer, but like a hand over your mouth, the shame in your body stops you. So you nod instead.

He nods back, then reaches out for you once more. He moves so smoothly, like you're a frightened animal he's attempting to soothe. It's a shameful comparison, but it feels true. You feel like a battered creature, tired and defeated.

With shaking fingers, you reach right back to meet him.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

Malleus has been sleeping for almost three days now with no sign of waking. This has left you with a lot of time to think.

You haven't brought up hunting since you nearly suffocated on your own panic. But even after all of that, you still want for more. It's a thought that just won't leave you alone. Every day that you awaken and eat while he lies there feels like a reminder that you're just right back where you used to be. A doll in a house that moves when you tell it to.

You can't, you don't want to do that anymore. You want to be more than that, to earn his trust back. It's nearing three days, and the sun has started to set, dimming the light in the cave and painting the sky above in a creamy orange hue. You've eaten the last of the berries, and all that remains is the bush. You've seen Malleus eat the whole plant before, roots and all, so you know to leave it there for him when he wakes.

Carefully, you leave the protective curl of his body, climbing slowly over his tail. After confirming that he still sleeps, you continue until you're outside. Next to the entrance and beneath piles of snow is your stockpile of fish that Malleus had caught in bulk. You still have enough for a few more days, but that's just in your case. Malleus eats in large quantities, you imagine, so if he wants fish, he'll need a lot more of it.

You clutch the golden knife that you've strapped to your thigh before starting towards the nearby stream.

From the top of the mountain that Malleus' cave resides on, there's a river that runs all the way down towards your village. Though parts of it freeze over during the winter, this part of it remains open and free-flowing. As you walk a few paces down the length of it, you're able to spot a cluster of movement below the surface. Standing on the edge, you pull out the knife from beneath your cloak. Then realize you have no idea where to begin.

Should you… go in it? Probably not, it might ruin the boots Malleus gave you. But getting your clothes wet seems unavoidable, given the knife that you wield. So… should you get something longer?

You glance around at your surroundings, wondering what to do, before your eyes catch on the low-hanging branch of a tree. Moving to it, you grip near the base and pull. In a few tugs, it breaks off. There are a handful of smaller branches on it that you promptly snap off. You're not confident that the end will be enough to pierce the scales of a fish. But maybe if you sharpen it…?

Finding a rock near the bank, you brush off some snow before sitting yourself down. Bracing the branch on your legs, you take the knife to its point and start to scrape its outer layer down. It doesn't come naturally to you. It takes quite a bit of maneuvering, and you nearly slicing your hand open, before you feel comfortable enough in your movements to make bigger cuts.

By the end of it, you have a rather sharp, spear-like branch. You smile as you tap the point lightly with your finger and find it just as sharp as it looks. Strapping the knife back to your thigh, you return to the river's edge with a newfound determination.

Then an arrow lodges itself into the ground at your feet, and the lightness in your chest turns to cold dread.

Further down the river, you hear the signs of a scuffle. The sound of chain mail scraping together, the lashing of metal like swords scraping against sheathes. You look and see, with ever-increasing panic, the movement of militia-like figures coming towards you.

You blink, and another arrow whizzes past your face, just a few centimeters from meeting flesh. Your body takes that as its sign to start working again. You make for the tree line and crash through underbrush, leaving your spear behind.

There are sounds, shouting in the distance, maybe a call for you to halt or a call to arms towards the rest of the men. It doesn't matter, you run. You run like mad, with crashing steps that nearly send you tumbling. In your haze, this primal fear to run from death, you feel strangely humorous. This is nothing like all those weeks ago. It was almost naive of you to compare yourself to your friend who had tried to flee. You didn't even consider the fear. The cold, dead fear that urges you to lie down, to stop running, and just let it happen. Beg your pursuers to see reason, to stop, to make it quick.

You don't hear anything. You realize that now, as the storm of panic in your brain starts to recede, when the landscape starts to get familiar. Besides your own labored breath and the snow crunching beneath your feet, there is not much else.

You look over your shoulder, not knowing what to expect, only to run full tilt into a tree.

What little air you have leaves your lungs as you're thrown on the ground. Your body bounces when your back connects. Instantly, you feel the cold of the snow seeping through your clothes where you lie, coughing and wheezing and shaking.

"Apologies," a deep, deep voice says from right in front of you.

Your eyes snap open, and you're greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar young man with streaks of pink in his hair. He smiles when he notices you looking, and you see his canines are razor sharp. Just like Malleus'.

"… Are you—" You swallow around the spit in your mouth. It tastes like metal, and the inside of your cheek stings. "Do you know… Mal…?"

His body tenses, and so do you. His eyes sweep over you in a single glance. Then he inhales, deep and drawn-out, and all of a sudden his entire body language shifts.

"Oh, he has decided to keep you."

"… I— Yes," you pant, blinking as your vision starts to swim. "Yes, I am his… charge, I suppose."

You feel faint, light enough to float away. His black attire starts to blend with the bright pink of his hair and the red of his eyes.

"Stay with me," he says.

At his words, your vision clears, and your head stops feeling like it's filled with cotton. Your awareness comes back to you as abruptly as a slap to the face.

"There you go," the young man grins. "Feeling better?"

"… Yes," you agree, rubbing at the ache in your chest now that your ability to breathe is no longer as inhibited. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," he chirps.

His mood is so friendly and pleasant, you'd almost be content to believe that everything was fine.

"Just by the river," you begin, feeling panic stir anew in your chest. "There was a battalion of men. They were armed and tried to—"

"I know. I had been watching them approach you."

"You… You were?"

"Indeed, and they have been taken care of." He meets your incredulous expression with another fang-filled smile. "You are fortunate that I was around. Most prospects are dead by the time I can find them."

You feel like you might vomit. "P… Prospects?"

"People like you who are given to us as fodder." He says it so simply, casually. He had used the word 'us.' Meaning him and Malleus. This man you are talking to must be the friend of Malleus' mother that he once mentioned. The original ruler of these mountains.

You can't be stuck on this detail. "What do you mean?"

He must hear the mania in your voice, because his expression softens into something like pity. "My dear, did you really think your kingdom would allow you to live once the ruler inevitably lets you roam free?"

"No…" The word falls from your mouth like a plea.

He keeps going, whether you want to hear it or not. "Those men were sent to make sure you never return to your village again."

"So they knew." The truth sits in your gut like a bed of thorns. "All of it. They knew everything from the very beginning."

"Indeed." He nods. "He did not inform you of this, did he?"

Something inside you shrivels up. "No… No, he did not."

"That is unfortunate." He considers you, eyeing your attire. "He has done well to keep you clothed and fed, by the looks of it." He hums to himself some more, pondering. "Does he always allow you to venture outside of his protection?"

Shame coats your throat and makes your next words hard to get out. "N-No, this was… my fault. I was trying to— to help him, with the food…"

The more you talk, the more embarrassed you feel. Like you are a child again, being berated by the mistress for being idiotic enough to think that what you were doing was okay.

He sighs, and you want to curl up into a ball so tight you can never be seen again. "That is thoughtful, but unnecessary. Surely he had told you as such?"

You don't reply, you couldn't even if you had tried. Your mouth feels sewn shut.

Once more, he sighs. "Come on then, let us go to him. I have been long delayed in my visit."

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

The second you enter the cave, Malleus's eyes open. He raises his long head, but he's not looking at you. His focus is on the man who leads you.

Malleus rumbles low in his chest.

"That is no way to greet such a long-time friend, now, is it?" The previous ruler responds, chiding yet fond.

Malleus's eyes narrow, then he snorts and jerks his head up.

The man chortles before turning to look at you. "He would like you back where you are supposed to be."

Eager to get away from this man's heavy gaze, you make for the familiar encirclement of his scaled body. Once by his side, his tail comes around and presses you to him, all but pinning you in place. Heat starts to seep through your clothes, and you sigh at the comfort it brings.

The man watches all this, and suddenly you feel like a bug beneath his attention.

"So you've decided to keep one." The man states. "What was the occasion? Did my talks about my own child finally pique your interest?"

Malleus hums, loud enough for you to feel it where you are squished against his side.

"I see. That is a unique circumstance, indeed."

It boggles you how he can just understand Malleus like this. Even now, you still struggle to glean the finer details of his expressions while he is a dragon. It makes you uncomfortable in a new and strange way. Like you can't stand the thought of Malleus being close with someone else. Which is ridiculous, you've known for a while that he would be. But this feeling doesn't want to heed itself to reason, it seems.

"As much as I am pleased to see you breaking out of your isolationist habits," the man begins, "there is still the matter of the kingdom at hand."

"When were you going to inform your charge of the truth?"

Malleus says nothing. You look to try to take anything away from his expression, only to be unable to see it.

"Better yet, we should discuss how your previous actions have further distressed the people of the valley."

Malleus growls, and you smell a hint of brimstone in the air.

"Did you think your anger wouldn't make its way back to me on the wind?" The man tilts his head.

He had heard when Malleus had roared. For not the first time today, you are in awe of the reality that these beings live in. How powerful was the hearing of a dragon? How did he know the cry to be Malleus'? It's a level of understanding that you will never be able to reach.

You feel like an intruder in this moment.

"I assume the circumstance for said anger had to do with this one," he says as he gestures towards you. "Is that correct?"

His tail, in response, tightens at your back.

"I do not say this to scold, Malleus." The man continues. "I say this as the one who promised your mother to look after you. Though your power is significant, there are some things that even you may not be strong enough to control. And should you let this get out of hand, I fear for the repercussions for both of you."

Malleus hisses. It comes out of him like a thundering gust of wind. You think your blood freezes over in your veins the second you hear it. Yet the previous ruler is unaffected. He merely appears contemplative, maybe even unfazed.

"… I will return another time then." He turns to leave before looking over his shoulder to meet your eyes. "I hope that you continue to remain by his side until then."

Feeling rattled beyond belief, all you can do is give a jerky nod. Then he leaves the way he came. You hear his footfalls against the rock until they fade into the distance.

You look up at the being you thought you were starting to understand. "… Malleus?"

He doesn't respond. You open your mouth to try again, only to yelp and shield your eyes as a flare of light blinds you. Something heavy bowls into you and knocks you off your feet. You gasp, flailing for something to catch yourself on, only to feel a familiar set of arms wrap around you and lower you the rest of the way down.

Blinking away the spots in your vision, you see him hovering over you. Brows furrowed and teeth gnashed in a grimace.

"What is—?"

"Show me," he says, nearly growls.

You are slow in the wake of everything that has happened. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"My mark," he grinds out. "Show it to me."

You hear the scrape of his nails against the rock where his hands are planted on either side of your head. Turning to the side, you can see the marks carved in the stone from the force of his grip.

You're struck with the thought that he looks young in this moment. Something about the way he's trying to hold himself back. He's never told you his age, but the way the previous ruler spoke to him was reminiscent of a parental figure to their child.

Maybe you are wrong in this. Maybe you should be more hurt that he has been keeping these truths from you. That he's been keeping you here so vehemently.

But haven't you also been making similar choices? Haven't you also been lying for his sake? Was his neglect born out of a desire to ease your mind, much like yours had been? Maybe, just like you, he too fears the day that you are out of his reach.

For not the first time, you are left aching by the fact that this great being could share so much in common with someone like you.

His eyes catch on something. "It is ripped."

Following his attention, you look down at yourself. Near the bottom of your cloak lies a jagged cut across the fabric.

"Oh," you realize with disappointment. "It must've happened while I was running."

"Running from what?" His tone is heavy with severity.

You consider his question, looking for the test that you assume it to be, only to find that he might genuinely be unaware of what had occurred.

"I was… out, while you slept." You begin, trying to push aside the urge to cower while confessing to your wrong. "I wanted to get more fish for you. But I was found by a group of militia. They would've killed me if not for your mother's friend."

His face screws up like he does not know whether to cry or rage. It makes you feel all the more foolish for even considering being dishonest with him.

"I'm sorry," you say, nearly garbling the words as they come out. "I should have listened to you. I was so— I just wanted to—"

"No," he cuts you off, eyes squeezed shut like he is in pain.

You press your lips together, hard. You don't deserve to barter your case. Should he choose to lock you up as he promised, you will take it in good faith. He opens his eyes, and what you see has the beat of your heart stuttering.

"I should have informed you." He says with clear regret in his expression. "If I had to begin with, you would've known to stay by my side until it was safe."

The truth hurts more than your confession. "S-So… So when you said another day, it was because—"

"Their existence and the truth that follows would've only caused you greater pain. This I knew. I had wished to relieve you of that burden, but it seems that I have… failed."

The admittance obviously pains him. His nails scrape once more on the rock while his shoulders seem to bunch up by his pointed ears.

"… I ran away again," you find yourself saying. "I disobeyed you. I didn't trust you enough to believe you, even after knowing you would never lie. I knew that there had been people on the mountain."

His attention snaps back up to you, visibly shocked.

"I've seen their footprints getting closer for days now. But I thought—" The words die on your tongue as you feel the crawl of a tear making its way down the side of your face. "I thought that, that I was protecting you by avoiding mentioning it."

You inhale shakily, and more tears follow. You try to breathe through it, but that only seems to make it worse. Warmth streaks down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to stem the flow somehow.

A thumb brushes across your cheek, so featherlight it might as well not have even touched you.

Opening your eyes again, you blink through the watery blur to see him clearly. The same hand able to carve through rock like it's nothing holds your cheek with care. Swiping at the tears as they continue to come.

"It seems," he begins, low and soft, "that we have both failed in this regard."

He keeps wiping your eyes, trailing touches over your wet lashes and cheeks.

"I had promised that I would shackle you, should you decide to run. Did I not?"

You sniffle, "Yes, you did."

"Then, in this case," he murmurs in that sweet tone of his that never fails to soothe you. "It seems we both need to be shackled, possibly together."

the rough plot

so in this world, there are dragons and they are used to fight in wars and our protagonist, violet, must become a dragon rider because her mom said so, even though she'd rather be a scribe like her dad.

she manages to get into this college somehow where everything can kill you including your classmates and your teachers in special circumstances, and she has to survive as a disabled person with weak joints.

but there's this guy named xaden who's the senior directing her wing of students and he does NOT like her because her mom, who's a general, killed his dad after he tried to rebel. thus is the set up for this enemies to lovers romantasy book.

2. the general vibe

the enemies to lovers? a little bit stale, call it a saltine cracker with not enough salt so it ends up just being sadly, slightly bland.

the set up was nice, ill give it that. one of my favorite trilogies, the captive prince series, has a similar set up where each of the love interests killed someone or did something sinister enough to make the history between the two bad, even though they had never met before.

like i said, it starts promising, then kind of fizzles out after 60 pages or so. bit of a let down for me cause fantasy is the best setting for enemies to lovers. argue with the wall, i don't care, i stand on this.

now, the book places heavy, HEAVY emphasis on how dangerous this school is. there is death at every corner waiting for anyone regardless of grade year. the dragons themselves may decide that you're a chud and don't deserve to live, so they can kill you. your classmates can do the same thing, but not while you're sleeping because that's cheating (even though everything else is just about allowed). and if a teacher views you as a danger, ie you can read minds, you're a dead man walking (which is only mentioned once, a teacher snaps a kid's neck after he develops mind reading and it's never talked about again for the rest of the first book).

given all this death and danger, you think it'll be a nail biter of a story, right? yeah no, the death happens so often it has sort of looped back around to being the normal. and most of the people who die are people you barely get to know. so all the mental anguish that typically comes with witnessing a character die is missing because there was no time to form the attachment. except at the end when violet's friend liam died, i will admit that one kind of made me sad, and that's because we got to know him before he got murked.

also, all these stakes sort of never reach the main character. sure she gets hurt often because of her disability, and there are multiple moments where she is in a life or death situation. but every time it's happened, i've never once thought that she wouldn't live through it. not a single doubt that she wouldn't be anything but fine.

i think a good dangerous setting will make you fear for the life of everyone involved, main character included. so in terms of suspense, i felt nothing, no danger at all.

3. the dragons

one of the biggest reasons i actually managed to finish this thing was because of the promise of dragons. dragon riding sounds fun as fuck, like it can't get much cooler than that.

and personality wise, the dragons were pretty fun. but then the romance started cranking up the heat and they were kind of lowkey side lined. and that's when i really had to try to keep reading.

dragons give their riders powers, which i think is pretty cool. and they have a relationship with the government of this fantasy world because dragons are the predominant military strength that runs this place. there's a heavy emphasis on their importance, and for good reason.

except at one point, when the first feathertail (a relatively unknown type of dragon) takes part in choosing a rider for the first time in HISTORY, the general reaction is to bully it for being small?? and weak looking?? so much so that a few dudes actually attempt to kill it?? where is the importance, where is the sense of respect? are we in high school on a governmental level, because even military generals were calling it an embarrassment. this level of premature bullying felt like a joke, i'll be honest.

there's also this mechanic that dragons can sort of pass on their emotions to their riders and vice versa. which is a neat mechanic, but in this book, it's used like a version of sex pollen? because xaden and violet's dragon's are mates. and when their dragons get freaky, the lust travels over and then they feel like they need to have sex.

i have very little words for what i feel about this circumstance. it just feels... a little bit icky? like imagine if your horse who is also sentient has sex and you not only knew, but wanted to have sex of your own because of it. idk man i just feel like this didn't need to happen only once and then never again.

4. the worldbuilding

i LOVE a fantasy world, please don't misunderstand. but here's the thing, if you're going to use fantasy as your setting, then i expect the language and social culture to reflect it.

why are all these dragon riders talking like they were born in the 21st century? you are using words like "supreme" and "for the win" and "super badass" when you don't even have modern electricity, only magical lamps. maybe it's the history major in me that's pissed off about this but my god, it's 1876, act like it (it's not actually but like you get the idea).

and the magic system, it's dependent on dragons, which isn't a problem but how does dragon magic equal automatic ink pens?? how are you able to, as a lesser feat of magic, CREATE MATTER IN THE FORM OF MORE INK to automatically supply a pen with. how is that possible, am i just lacking in whimsy or something?

also, why are the DRAGON RIDERS the ones who get that magic, when the SCRIBES are right there and probably green with envy over said feat.

if i'm being quite honest, there is very little i can tell you about the world of fourth wing, as i just don't remember anything of significance that stuck out to me. which i think is enough said.

my final thoughts are this...

i get why people like this book, it was interesting enough to keep my attention. the concept was interesting and i liked the way violet and xaden worked together.

but if you spend more than 5 seconds thinking about this book, you will be confused and or slightly pissed off at it.

which is to say, part of the reason i was able to finish was because it made me nostalgic. fourth wing, if this was 2013, would've been published on wattpad and i would've been one of the first in line to eat it up like it was a gourmet meal.