#Basgiath

[xadenxaddy]

Lilith: I expect nothing but discipline

Brennan: joins a secret rebellion

Violet: befriends enemies

Mira: always ready to break rules

Lilith: Why did I even bother?

[lowytavis]

Bodhi Durran x Reader - Wait? We have a child

Warnings: unknown pregnancy, fear of loss, angst

Short: Bodhi and his troup were sent away on a mission outside of the wards after graduation. None of them returned for 1,5 years. And you thought your boyfriend hat died. And so did your almost 1 year old son.

____

"I don't want you to go," I murmured against Bodhi's chest, holding him tighter as if I could keep him here just a little longer.

He sighed softly, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"My love, I promise, in just four weeks, I'll be back with you," he whispered, his voice gentle like a warm breeze.

Then, he pressed a long, loving kiss to my lips, as if sealing his vow with that touch.

But he did not keep his promise.

No one came back.

Day after day, week after week, I waited.

Watching the horizon, hoping—praying—to see the familiar silhouettes of dragons soaring through the sky.

But neither the dragons nor their riders ever returned from the mission.

"You promised," I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked up at the vast, empty sky.

Tears welled in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of my broken heart.

____

Fast forward a couple months

"You’re pregnant," Violet murmured, gently holding my hair back as I leaned over the toilet, retching—for the fifth time in the last five days.

"There’s no other explanation," she added firmly. Rhiannon, who was sitting beside me, ran a soothing hand over my back.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as the realization hit me like a wave.

I was carrying a child—a child I could never share with him.

My love, my Bodhi.

He would have been the most wonderful father.

The kindest, the most loving, the most devoted. He would have held me close, whispered words of reassurance, dreamed with me about our future together.

But he was gone.

I exhaled shakily, sinking into the depths of my thoughts.

What if things had been different?

What if Bodhi had come back from the mission?

What if Panschek had never called his name alongside the others?

What if, instead of Violet and Rhiannon, it was him sitting beside me right now?

Holding me.

Comforting me.

What if Bodhi were here?

But he wasn't.

So I let Rhiannon and Violet take care of me.

They cared for my pregnant body, which grew weaker with each passing day.

For my broken heart—one that friendship could not heal, but at least made the pain more bearable.

And for the tiny new heart growing within me, a fragile spark of life in the midst of my grief.

____

Fast forward a couple months

"I don’t know what to call him," I murmured happily, though exhaustion clung to my voice.

Violet and Xaden sat beside me on the bed, their eyes fixed on the tiny baby boy in my arms—the son I had just brought into the world.

Violet’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and so did Xaden’s.

"Bodhi would have loved him," Xaden said quietly, his voice laced with sorrow.

There was no doubt where his thoughts had wandered—to his cousin, to the man who should have been here to meet his son, but never would.

"Finding the right name is hard," Violet murmured, gently running her fingers over the baby's soft, delicate face.

"He looks like Bodhi," she whispered. And she was right.

Up until now, I had been too focused on surviving the birth to truly see him.

The overwhelming joy of holding my son filled me with warmth, but the moment I really looked at him, the crushing grief of Bodhi’s absence washed over me like a tidal wave.

His hair was already dark, thick, and curling at the edges—just like Bodhi’s.

A striking contrast to my own.

He was a Durran through and through.

"What about Malachi?" I suggested, testing the name on my tongue. But the moment I said it, I shook my head. "No... that doesn’t feel right."

"I think Koa is fitting," I suggest softly.

Xaden perks up, a small smile breaking through the lingering sorrow on his face.

"That’s the perfect name for the little guy. Koa. Durran?"

"Yes, Durran," I confirm, my voice thick with emotion. "After his father."

Tears well up in my eyes as I speak, the weight of Bodhi’s absence pressing against my chest.

"Welcome to the world, little Koa," Violet whispers, her voice warm and full of love as she gently strokes his tiny head.

____

The months flew by in a blur. With all the chaos happening at Basgiath, it was no surprise.

Things had become far too dangerous for all of us.

So, Xaden made the decision—we, Violet, the other marked ones, and I, along with Koa, his last blood relative, would relocate to Riorson House.

It was the safest option, especially for Koa. And for Violet. Violet Riorson - his now pregnant wife.

Koa was growing fast, too fast.

He was quick, agile, and far too clever for his age.

Violet often helped me care for him, especially on the days when grief took hold of me and refused to let go. 

I thought, with time, the grief would become more bearable.

But the older Koa grew, the more he resembled his father. And I could swear, his mannerisms were just like Bodhi's.

"Uncle Xaden," Koa gurgled, reaching his tiny arms out toward him. He couldn't say much yet—after all, he was only 11 months old. "Mom, Uncle Gar, Uncle Xaden, Aunt Vi," he babbled, his words a mix of innocence and heartache.

And then, when he saw the framed picture of Bodhi hanging in the throne room—a memorial that Xaden had placed there on the first anniversary of Bodhi's death—he said, "Papa."

It was a bittersweet reminder that Bodhi was gone, but not forgotten.

And now, Koa carried pieces of him with every smile, every word, and every gesture.

____

Rain lashed against Riorson House, its rhythmic thrum echoing through the stone walls.

Xaden had been pacing restlessly all day, his unease palpable. "Violet, please go to YN and Koa—something's wrong," he murmured urgently, gently guiding his very pregnant wife toward my chambers. "Go now."

(...)

I patted the empty space next to me on the bed, offering a smile.

"Come," I said.

She returned the smile and collapsed onto the bed, her large belly making her look almost too small for the weight she carried.

"If that’s not a pair of them," I grinned, tapping her stomach.

Violet shot me an exaggerated look of mock horror, her eyes wide.

"Oh, please—don’t even joke about it. Two? We’ll have a whole little army soon enough."

I chuckled and pulled the blanket up to my chin, my thoughts heavy with the storm outside.

The last thing I remembered was the warmth of Violet beside me... then sleep slowly pulling me under.

I woke up to the soft patter of little feet as a tiny human—named Koa—tried to climb into bed with me and his aunt.

He squirmed, his chubby hands reaching up as if determined to join us.

I gently lifted Koa into my arms, pulling him close and holding him as he nestled against me.

The warmth of his small body, so innocent and full of love, soothed me. Mere seconds later, I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, the sound of rain outside creating the perfect lullaby.

The rain—it had always been my favorite sound to fall asleep to.

A gentle, constant rhythm that washed away the worries of the world, if only for a little while.

____

The door flung open with a loud crash, snapping me awake. Xaden stood in the doorway, his face pale with shock, eyes wide with urgency.

Without a word, he commanded, "Violet, YN, come with me—now."

Koa, still asleep in my arms, barely stirred, so I gently eased him back into the bed, tucking the blankets around him before rushing to Xaden.

We moved swiftly, following his tense figure down the hall, our hearts racing with the unknown.

As we reached the yard, my breath caught in my throat. Three dragons stood in the landing field, their massive forms looming against the stormy sky.

One of them stood out immediately—Cuir.

My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the sleek, dark green scales, the sharp, intelligent eyes.

Bodhi’s dragon.

The one who had once carried my late boyfriend through the skies, but who had disappeared along with him, never to return.

Xaden froze for a moment, the shock on his face swelling with something I couldn’t quite place.

Violet's hand grasped mine, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of Cuir, standing as if nothing had changed.

Her gaze flickered from dragon to dragon. The other two dragons... Lutic and Maghraxs.

My mind raced, the pieces clicking together. These were the same two dragons that had been with Cuir and Bodhi the night they vanished, the night everything went wrong.

The night they disappeared from our lives forever.

My breath caught in my chest, a cold feeling settling deep in my stomach.

Violet stood frozen beside me, her eyes locked on the three dragons, shock and disbelief written across her face.

Xaden, on the other hand, was a trembling mess.

His body shook as he stepped forward, inching closer to Cuir, as if drawn by an invisible force.

"Is it really...?" Violet whispered, her voice barely audible in the still air.

Xaden nodded, though his eyes were filled with doubt.

It was as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, and yet... he couldn’t pull away.

Cuir’s eyes locked with Xaden’s, a moment of recognition passing between them. The air around us felt charged, thick with emotions neither of us could name.

And then... The world seemed to hold its breath.

Bodhi.

Sitting atop Cuir.

My heart stopped.

It felt like the world was spinning, and I was about to faint.

There, before me, was Bodhi—alive.

His presence seemed impossible, yet undeniable.

Xaden, beside me, stood frozen, staring at his cousin—who was supposed to be dead.

His face was a mix of disbelief, confusion.

Bodhi slid down from Cuir with a fluid grace, closing the distance between him and Xaden.

The two of them stood for a brief moment, eyes locking. And then, without hesitation, they embraced.

Their arms wrapped around each other in a powerful, heartwarming hug—one that held so much emotion, so much love, there wasn’t an inch between them.

They held on tight, as though their bond was something that had never been broken, despite all that had happened.

Violet and I stood in stunned silence, our eyes wide, our minds struggling to comprehend the scene unfolding before us.

And then, Bodhi’s eyes found mine.

"Bodhi?" My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

My knees gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the ground, my body wracked with sobs.

The relief, the joy, the overwhelming emotions flooded over me all at once.

Before I knew it, Bodhi was there, stumbling toward me—fast, but limping, his movements pained.

His eyes were filled with concern as he dropped to his knees on the muddy, wet ground beside me.

He gathered me into his arms, holding me tight as the tears flowed uncontrollably.

I clung to him, my chest heaving with every sob. He kissed my head, again and again, as though he couldn’t stop himself, as if he were trying to make up for all the time lost.

Violet, too, was pulled into the embrace, tears streaming down her face as she pressed against us.

The three of us, wrapped together in a reunion so raw, so filled with love and grief, we all cried.

Bodhi looked at Violet, his eyes widening with shock. "You’re... pregnant?"

His voice was a mix of wonder and disbelief.

A small, exhausted grin tugged at his lips, though his face betrayed the toll the journey had taken on him.

He looked different—worn, tired—but alive.

And in that moment, the exhaustion seemed secondary to the joy of being home.

"You’re alive," I whispered through my tears.

"I thought I’d lost you forever."

Bodhi kissed my forehead gently again, holding me even tighter.

"I’m here, love. I’m here."

____

Minutes felt like hours.

We were still standing in the rain, right in the middle of the landing field.

Bodhi and the two other riders, Tomba and Kevis, were telling us about the intrigue, the other fallen comrades, their desperate attempts to escape captivity—a struggle that had lasted a whole 1.5 years until they finally succeeded.

36 hours ago, they had managed to escape.

They’d flown for 36 hours straight—from Basgiath, where they found nothing but death, to Aretia.

To us.

“Papa,” I heard Koa’s small voice as he entered the landing field, pointing at Bodhi.

I hadn’t even noticed that he had come outside.

Bodhi stared at Koa with wide eyes.

“Mama, that’s Papa!” Koa said, looking up at me.

Bodhi’s gaze shifted to me—his eyes, wide and beautiful, locked onto mine.

I smiled shyly and walked toward Bodhi.

“I think I need to introduce you to someone,” I said, lifting Koa into my arms.

“Bodhi, this is Koa Durran,” I said softly. “Your son.”

Bodhi was at a loss for words as he stared at Koa, who happily turned to Xaden.

"Uncle Xaden, that’s Papa!" he giggled, and with a joyful rush, he flung himself into Bodhi's arms.

Bodhi stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, as Koa wrapped his small arms around him.

He glanced at me, still in disbelief.

"Wait… we have a child? I have a son? What else did I miss?" His voice cracked, and tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, love... Wait? Koa Durran? You kept my last name alive?" he whispered, his gaze fixed on me with overwhelming emotion.

I sniffled, my own tears beginning to spill.

"Well, I never got to have your last name, so I thought Koa might want to at least..." I trailed off, my voice faltering.

Bodhi let out a soft, teary laugh. "Oh, we are so going to fucking change your last name, love," he moaned, his voice filled with emotion as he pulled me close.

He wrapped his arms around me, Koa still nestled in his embrace.

I could feel the warmth of our little family finally coming together after so long.

Violet, her face streaked with tears, scooted closer, desperate for a hug.

She reached out, pulling Xaden along with her, and we all gathered together.

The weight of everything that had happened seemed to melt away as we embraced, the sense of being whole, of finally being reunited, flooding over us.

For the first time in a year and a half, we were whole.

No grief.

No pain.

Just love.

The first night in 1.5 years as a family.

The first night filled with peace, warmth, and a sense of completion we had longed for.

Reunited. Finally. Forever.

[darkavcngers]

maybe i’m biased because i’m obsessed with him but benjamin wadsworth is my dream xaden riorson fancast don’t come for me

[jmoonjones]

[spiritofdragonfire]

Gotta love this hilarious, ice-wielding dragon rider! 😂❄️🤎🔥🐲🏰

This is certainly the kind of stunt I could easily see Ridoc and his Brown Swordtail pulling if modern day technology existed in this fantasy world. I quite enjoyed seeing more of their unique and quirky bond in Onyx Storm~

•Onyx Storm is the 3rd book in The Empyrean Series written by author Rebecca Yarros

•Fanart of Ridoc Gamlyn was made by @booknuts_ on Instagram

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Basgiath War College Core

[myloveoffandoms]

Hear me out… Fourth wing aka Empyrean series… video game like hogwarts legacy?!?

I would fucking love that shit!! 

[bookishbabe27]

Onyx Storm Cover

idk about your copies of onyx storm, but my one from kmart came with a bootiful drawing on the inside of the cover

also just wanna say that the camera did not do it justice

[cabinyote]

Best. Birthday gift. Ever.

[visenyasdream]

And there he was.

Xaden stood in the center of the room, shirtless, his body glistening with sweat. His sword moved through the air with deadly precision, slicing through invisible opponents in a graceful yet brutal dance. His muscles rippled with every strike, the blade an extension of his body, perfectly controlled.

I had never seen his rebellion mark fully before.

[abigailkendallwrites]

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 6

Imogen and I walk along the Iakobos River, our steps near silent as we snake our way through the reedy grass to the cluster of large oaks at the bank.

We stop at the roots of one of the larger trees and Imogen pulls off her hood to give me a long look.

She leans in towards me, voice quiet. “Can you please stop giving me the silent treatment?”

When I don't respond, she turns her head to look me in the eyes, “Xaden, seriously. You weren’t there, she was talking about my parents being murdered. Am I supposed to just let trash like her get away with that? It’s dis—” I lift my hand to silence her. “Don’t finish that sentence, Imogen.” I ground out, my anger rising at the insult.

Hurt and confusion flash across her face and I feel a twinge of guilt. She doesn’t know that with every look, every confrontation, every day that goes by where Violet is in my presence, my self control slips a little more.

“The rest are close.” Sgaeyl says from her position in the sky. 

My eyes lift, “We can discuss this in front of everyone. It’s a message for all of you.”

The two of us turn towards the line of trees as the rest of the group converge beneath the giant oak.

My shadows are comfortable here, they feel cool against my skin. As they unravel, my senses extend along every tendril. I can hear every small nocturne creature and subtle wind.

I can also hear the soft, quick breathing above me. What Violet Sorrengail is doing out here, is a question I’d love to know the answer to. But it can wait. This moment feels like another opportunity to push her and see which way she falls.

There are small introductions between everyone, most of them are known, but some of the first-years are from smaller families who haven’t been properly acquainted with everyone.

There’s a palpable anxiety coursing through the younger cadets. I get it, but it’s time to push it to the side, step up, and do their jobs. We protect each other. Panic isn't an option. 

Garrick is angsty about the losses this week. We all are. Our numbers are small enough as is. 

Garrick addresses the group, his eyes hard, “We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco, that’s just how it is your first year, but we can’t afford to lose a single one of us. Division amongst ourselves will be your greatest weakness.”

There’s soft rustling in the branches above as Violet moves from branch to branch.

Imogen turns to the first years, “Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation.”

“And if they find out we’re meeting?” One of the younger girls, Gwyn, asks the group.

The fear is clear on all of their faces. They’ve all been scared for too long. But that’s what we’re here to change.

I need to inspire courage, but also remind them that we’re confident in the system we’ve created.

And remind them who they’ll be answering to if things get out of hand.

I cross my arms and lean against the tree, keenly aware of Violet, now directly above me.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out.” My eyes scan the group, “they’re not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell,” I say, raising a brow, “I’ll know. Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose any of you, but we will if you don’t help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”

There’s no use in feeding them bullshit if their lives are on the line.

“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?”

Four first-years raise their hands.

Four.

“Shit.” I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is not good. After the bargain was made a few of us older kids made sure there were systems in place. Training regimens were created. Academic Curriculums, and tests that mimicked what they’ll face upon entering the quadrant. Tools to ensure every serpartist’s kid was well equipped before they put a single toe on the parapet.

The headache is back.

Garrick, always a step ahead, says, “I’ll teach them.”

After the amount of training, and natural skill he’s had, Garrick’s fighting is instinctual. Good for winning fights, not great for trying to teach someone.

I look at Garrick and shake my head, “You’re our best fighter–” 

I’m interrupted by Bodhi, “ You’re our best fighter.”

“Dirtiest fighter, maybe,” Imogen corrects him with a laugh.

There’s some laughter, and even a couple smiles from the younger ones.

“Fucking ruthless is more like it,” Garrick says, grinning at me.

I keep my mouth shut and let everyone get it out of their system before moving on.

“Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she’s a hell of a lot more patient,” If the two of them want to be mouthy then they can do it together. “So the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won’t draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?” One of the first years, Kieran begins speaking before anyone else, his voice full of anguish,“I can’t do this.” My stomach lurches.

I can’t deal with this right now

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice going cold.

“I can’t do this! The death. The fighting. Any of it. A guy had his neck snapped right in front of me on assessment day!” The boy's voice is growing more frantic, and every word out of his mouth is filling me with guilt.

“I want to go home!” Kieran continues, “Can you help me with that ?”

Everyone turns to look at me.

I did this to them.

Bile rises to the back of my throat.

No, this was the only way I could save every person in front of me right now.

I didn’t have a choice.

And neither does he.

I swallow, frustration bubbling up to the surface.

We don’t have time to comfort and coddle. Our goal is to survive. Everything else is an afterthought.

“No,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, feigning indifference.“You’re not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time.”

My words come out harsher than intended, but I mean them nonetheless 

The color drains from Kieran’s face, and his thin frame begins shaking as my words hit him.

Bodhi turns to look at me, incredulity written on his face. “That was a little harsh, cousin.”

“What do you want me to say, Bodhi? I can’t save everyone, especially not someone who isn’t willing to work to save themselves.” I keep my voice calm, even as the guilt tries to press itself in on me.

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick says, that same disbelief lacing his voice. “Way to give a pep talk.”

Did none of them hear me after the parapet? We are not special. We will face blood and horror, and the likely possibility of death. Giving me problems that I can’t solve doesn’t help anyone, it holds us all back. This is just a fact of our reality. 

“If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they’re not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.” I turn to look at Kieran, “In war, people die. It’s not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It’s snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There’s nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur.” 

I point to the citadel off in the distance, “This isn’t some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It’s hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home…to whatever’s left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant.” I lean closer to him, and the other first-years in front of me. They need to drill this into their fucking skulls, “So if you won’t get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You’re not going to make it.”

I assess each of them, making sure they’ve heard me loud and clear.

Good. Time to move on.

“Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve,” I say, this time addressing the whole group.

Aria, one of the first years, speaks up, “Battle Brief.” 

That, I can handle.

She continues, “It’s not that I can’t keep up, but the information…”

Imogen steps in to soften the obvious conflict in Aria’s voice. She leans in, voice gentle “That’s a tough one.”

Some of my irritation with her softens. Imogen’s fearless, and has a nasty temper, but she’s always been a buffer between me and everyone else.

And she’s right, It’s hard to know what we know, and still placate the professors.

I’d speak a bit more freely if I didn’t have a certain someone perched on the branch above me. I'm already sticking my neck out by letting her stay. 

“You learn what they teach you.” I say giving her a pointed look. “Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.” There are several nods, and I feel satisfied that everyone understands what’s at stake if they fuck up.

“Anyone else?” I say, looking up at the moon. It’s shifted considerably since we got here, which means we’re cutting it close. “You’d better ask now. We don’t have all night.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence before someone in the back says, “When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?”

My whole body tenses, my heartrate climbing, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from snapping. In the span of a few seconds I’ve become completely possessed. Just a handful of days around her and I’m already losing my mind at the thought of anyone touching her. She’s mine . 

“Yeah, Xaden, When do we get to finally have our revenge?” Imogen says, her voice turning mockingly sweet. 

I am now acutely aware of every fast breath coming from Violet. 

I throw a threatening look at Imogen, “I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I’ll handle her when the time is right.” 

I don’t think I even know what that means right now. There are a lot of ways I’d like to handle– 

No.

That’s not even a thought worth entertaining.

Bodhi decides to be Bodhi and stir the pot, “Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen? What I hear, Aetos has you scrubbing dinner dishes for the next month for using your powers on the mat.”

“Her mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder.” Imogen argues, her cheeks flushing in anger.

“Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents. Not her daughter.” Garrick looks Imogen in the eyes, “Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not Tyrrish.”

This is getting exhausting.

“So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college–”

“In case you didn’t notice, she’s in this same death sentence of a college. Seems like she’s already suffering the same fate.” Garrick says, shutting down Imogen’s argument.

Apparently everyone here needs a reminder of who Violet is in all of this.

“Don’t forget her brother was Brennan Sorrengail. She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her.” I say to Imogen before turning to the first-year, “And I’m not going to tell you again. She’s mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”

No one speaks.

The moon has shifted even closer to the horizon. Time to get these walking headaches out of here and deal with the one above me.“Good. Then get back to bed. And go in threes.”  

The group clears out and I walk towards the citadel, slowly cloaking myself in shadows until I’m invisible in the dark. I can’t help but smirk as I backtrack to the oak tree and slip behind where Violet is currently positioned.

She’s patient. It takes her a good ten minutes before she finally climbs down from her perch and drops to the ground. 

Still cloaked in shadows, I lunge, pulling her tight against my chest. Every place where our bodies connect is buzzing like a live wire, and I resist the impulse to drop her. 

It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and dammit if I don’t love every second.

“Scream and you die,” I whisper in her ear. I don’t want to let go of her, but I force myself to remove my arm from around her neck.

Before she can even think about retaliating, I’ve replaced my arm with the edge of a dagger. “Fucking Sorrengail.” I snap, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal her face.

Fuck. 

I can’t help the way my cheeks heat as she leans her head back to look me in the eyes.

I push my chest against her, forcing her eyes forward before she gets a chance to read the undeniable need on my face.

“How did you know?” She says, her lip curling. For someone who’s convinced I’m going to kill her, she has some bite. “Let me guess,” she continues, “You could smell my perfume. Isn’t that what always gives the heroine away in books?”

Perfume?  

I bend my head toward hers, my lips brushing against her ear.

She’s irritating as hell. And yet here I am, excited that I have her all to myself.

“I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away.” I say sarcastically, my voice barely above a whisper.

A thrill goes up my spine as she gasps. “Your signet is a shadow wielder?”

My lips are still at her ear , “What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?”

My voice sounds rough, even to me, and I resist the urge to put my mouth on her, to bite her ear, kiss her neck. I’m in a fog, consumed by being near her.

My grip loosens a fraction as my concentration slips, and she spins towards me, dagger raised, “Is this how you plan to handle me?”

“Eavesdropping are we?” I ask, brow lifting. 

Seeing her like this, like she was before the parapet, angry and wild, is doing something to me, and I can’t get enough.

I sheath my dagger. “Now I might actually have to kill you.” The cold look in my eyes is in stark contrast to the way my mind is pleading with her.

Please, don’t say anything. 

Because for all my bravado, I don’t know if I have it in me to kill her. I’m worried about what it might do to me. 

It would wreck me.

She backs away, reaching into her cloak to pull out another dagger. 

Despite her uneven footing and awkward defensive stance, Violet with her daggers out, ready for a fight is…

Fuck, It’s hot.

“That stance is really the best you can muster? No wonder Imogen nearly ripped your arm off.” I say, heaving a sigh. I don’t have it in me to kill her but there are several people who do, and will succeed with her defensive position so…lacking.

“I’m more dangerous than I look,” she says, but her cheeks are flushed and her ears have turned pink at the tips, contradicting the anger in her voice.

She’s being cute, and I can’t help but smirk. I like playing with her, “So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Quicker than I would’ve expected she flings both daggers towards me.

And completely misses.

I look at her dully, if not a little disappointed, “You missed.”

“Did I?” She says, reaching for the two other daggers she has tucked into her cloak, “Why don’t you back up a couple steps and test that theory?”

What?

I smooth my face into a mask of irritated boredom, but from the way she’s looking at me, I know she saw the question in my eyes.

My shadows swirl around her ankles, pulling to touch her. I yank them back, hard, smothering my own desire.

My eyes don’t leave Violet’s as I take three steps back until my back hits the tree.

Where the  hilt of each dagger sits perfectly between both sides of my head.

Oh.

Good girl, Violet.

“Tell me again that I missed.” She threatens, flipping the dagger in her hand to hold it by the tip.

I still can’t take my eyes off of her. 

I smile, “Fascinating, you look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

I will my shadows into something more concrete, forming them into hands, the slender fingers moving to pluck the daggers from the bark, and drop them into both of my palms.

I’m still smiling at her like a fool. I think I’m going into shock.

My body has completely abandoned my mind, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m moving towards her, steps slow, “You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe.”

Violet blinks in surprise, “What?”

She clocks how close we are to each other and raises her dagger.

I’ve done my job a little too well if she thinks my only motivation is to kill her. “The neck-snapping first year who’s very publicly vowed to slaughter you.” I tease, lifting an eyebrow. 

One more step and the tip of her blade is pressed against my middle. I’m still smirking as I reach under her cloak and sheath one of the daggers. 

I lift the other side of her cloak, and the smirk slips off of my face, every ounce of playful banter gone.

Underneath her cloak, her hair is twisted into a loose braid that falls over one shoulder and down past her breast. The silver strands, now exposed to the moonlight, glint as she shifts her head to look up at me.

I can barely breathe for wanting her so badly.

I want to wrap that braid around my wrist and yank her towards me.

For a single heartbeat I’m dumbstruck before I pull myself together and sheath her other dagger. “He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”

Violet’s face looks half irritated, half confused, “Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?” My words from earlier play through my head. Mine . “You wanted me dead long before your little club chose my tree to meet under, so I imagine you’ve all but buried me in your mind by now.”

I look at the dagger pressed between us. She looks closer to burying me than the other way around. 

A small shiver of fear courses through me. I’ve made a dangerous gamble in letting her hear all that was said tonight. “Do you plan on telling anyone about my little club ?” 

“No,” She says bluntly.

I can feel my eyebrows knit together. The answer I was hoping for, but not necessarily the one I was expecting. “Why not?” I ask. My head tilts to the side as I examine this girl in front of me, so different than I had assumed. “It’s illegal for the children of separatists officers to assemble in—”

“Groups larger than three,” Smart little thing.

She continues, “I’m well aware. I’ve lived at Basgiath longer than you.” Arrogant little thing too.

“And you’re not going to run off to Mommy, or your precious little Dain, and tell them we’ve been assembling? ” I can’t help the contempt that drips off my tongue at the thought of Dain. Of his hands on her face, searching through her memories.

“You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.” 

I give her an assessing glare.

She looks thoughtful, her mind turned inward for a beat before her eyes refocus on mine, “I’m not going to tell.”

I can’t get my hopes up, but they’re soaring anyways.

Her defenses are slipping away, rotating back to a familiar look of fear.

I don’t want her to be scared of me.

She needs to be scared of me. She should want nothing to do with me. 

If I can just manage enough self restraint to put some distance between the two of us.

“Interesting. We’ll see if you keep your word, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” I say, my thoughts of staying away are already completely abandoned.

I turn to go and she calls after me, “You’re not going to handle me?”

“Not tonight!” I yell over my shoulder, a smirk on my face.

She makes an indignant sound, “What are you waiting for?”

Gods I can’t help but play with her, “It’s no fun if you expect it. Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.”

“What?” She almost shrieks, voice full of confusion.

 I start to pull my shadows around me, cloaking me from view, but not before I hear her shout, “ You’re my wingleader!”

Yes the hell I am. 

In the shadows my smirk has bloomed into a fierce grin.

[xadenxaddy]

Garrick: Imogen why does everyone keep looking at us?

Imogen: Because they all think we’re a couple.

Garrick: What? Seriously?

Imogen: Yeah, and you're the last one to know.

[lowytavis]

bodhi deserves love & happiness

xaden deserves love & happiness

ridoc deserves love & happiness

sawyer deserves love & happiness

aaric deserves love & happiness

imogen deserves love & happiness

violet deserves love & happiness

garrick deserve love & happiness

sloane deserves love & happiness

rhiannon deserves love & happiness

even dain and cat deserve love & happiness

and i fucking hope they all get happy and all lovey dovey at the end of the book series or ill be going mad

[darkavcngers]

I JUST FINISHED IRON FLAME WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK REBECCA YARROS WHEN I CATCH YOU

someone please sedate me i’m actually not okay after that ending i wanna throw myself off a cliff i can’t wait until january for onyx storm

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 13: Forgotten

Thana had never felt more isolated than she did now. She knew it was her own doing—her decision to retreat into herself, her own inability to forgive and forget. 

Liam’s move to the second squad hit her harder than she’d anticipated. She knew that it was all part of Xaden’s plan to keep Violet alive but, she could not comprehend or accept why he had to do so. Every day, she watched Liam and Violet—laughing, studying, even training together—doing all the things he and Thana used to do. 

Her training with Garrick had also tapered off. She had no idea where he spent his time anymore—mostly with Imogen, she gathered. His quiet affection had turned to fleeting moments between his endless responsibilities, one of which involved helping Imogen to train Violet. She slowly saw herself being edged out by someone that she alone saw as the enemy.

Thana’s refuge had become the library. In the back corner, by the stained glass window, where the light filtered in just so, casting colorful hues across the worn wooden tables. She had stolen a tome of folklore stories from the library cart and was immersed in the tale her father used to read to her as a child. The rhythmic lilt of his voice echoed in her mind as she read it over and over again. A story about a heroine who saved a burning kingdom.

Her fingers brushed over the brittle pages, each word bringing back painful reminders of her father. Of what she had lost, of what he was missing.

Before she could finish the story, the sound of scurrying footsteps interrupted her. A cadet from the Scribe Quadrant, Jessina, hovered nervously close by, clearly waiting for her chance to grab the book and return it to the shelf.

Thana slid the book across the table, and Jessina snatched it up before disappearing into the maze of shelves. Thana watched her go, her heart heavy as she let the silence fall back around her.

"What's that all about?" a voice asked.

Thana looked up to find Ruari standing closeby, leaning against one of the shelves with a smirk. He was the only person she’d been able to rely on lately, the only one who seemed to have the patience or desire to spend any time with her.

"Just doing her job," Thana replied with a small laugh, a forced lightness to her voice.

Ruari raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press. He stepped closer. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, and Thana motioned for him to do so with a nod.

They shared a few moments of silence, the air comfortable between them. The absence of words didn’t feel like a weight but rather like a safe space where nothing needed to be said. They could just be.

Ruari broke the quiet first, his voice warm but playful. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Thana.”

Her lips curved into a small smile at that. “I’m sure you haven’t.”

“You’ve got a way of making everything seem… more interesting. Even folklore,” Ruari continued, his gaze softening as he glanced at the book in front of her that she had taken from the shelves a few weeks ago and didn’t have the willingness to return. “How’d you end up with that one?”

Thana hesitated, thinking back to her father. Her chest tightened. “My father used to read it to me… when I was younger. Before…” She swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in her eyes.

Ruari’s expression softened with understanding. He didn’t push, didn’t ask for more than she was willing to give. The way he respected her space, letting her share only what she wanted to, made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: safe.

They continued to talk in hushed tones—about classes, about training, about their future, if there was one. But with each word that passed between them, Thana found herself missing her friends, even Xaden, though she couldn’t bring herself to face him now. They were slipping away, and she wasn’t sure how to stop it.

Ruari, with his quiet strength and gentle teasing, felt like the only constant at the moment. He said things that made her laugh, distracted her from the trap that was her own mind mind. At one point, his eyes softened, and he said, “I like spending time with you, Thana.”

The words, simple as they were, hit her harder than she expected. She liked spending time with him too. He was kind, easy to be around, and made her forget, even for a moment, that she was falling into a pit of her own making.

But as much as she appreciated his company, it was hard not to think of the gaping void where Liam should be. Thana’s thoughts drifted to the way he’d been with Violet earlier, looking so at ease in her presence. He hadn’t looked that way with her in weeks.

She tried to push the thought away, tried to focus on Ruari, on the comfort he provided, but it was impossible not to notice the growing distance between her and the people she cared about.

Her musings were interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter from the doorway. She glanced up, her heart sinking when she saw Liam and Violet standing together, their heads bent in whispered conversation. Violet was laughing, leaning in closer to Liam, who—despite his obvious affection for her—flashed a glance at Thana and gave a small wave.

Thana forced a smile, the hollow feeling in her chest spreading like a disease. She wanted to scream, to ask him why he didn’t resent her, why he didn’t hate her mere existence. But all she could do was watch them, the friendship forming between them like a slap across her face.

Ruari noticed her reaction, his brows furrowing in concern. “Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on the table, “you ok?”

Thana looked at him, her smile still tight. “I’m fine. Just…” She couldn’t find the words to explain what she felt, so instead, she lied. “I’m fine.”

She glanced at the two of them again, her chest tightening as she saw Liam smile more brightly at Violet, his gaze lingering on her in a way that only deepened the gnawing ache in Thana’s heart. He found Violet interesting, Thana could tell, he liked spending time with her.

Ruari, sensing the shift in her mood, leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” he offered.

Thana shook her head, pushing herself out of her chair. “No, it’s okay. I’ll walk myself.”

She shoved the tome under her jacket before making her way toward the door, taking the long way to avoid Liam and Violet. The hallway seemed longer than it ever had before, the silence in her footsteps deafening. The air around her felt thick and she couldn’t shake the sense that the world around her was fading.

By the time she reached the door to her room, everything went black.

~

Thana awoke with a sharp throb in her head, the pain blinding. She could feel the cold, damp floor beneath her, and as her vision cleared, she realized she was not in her room. She was somewhere that felt far away, the walls cracked and damp, the air heavy with an unnatural chill.

And there, sitting beside her, stroking her hair with a soft, tender touch, was her mother.

Thana’s breath caught in her throat as the haunting, sinister melody filled the air, her mother singing in that eerie, melodic tone she’d always used when Thana was small, when she would try to lull her to sleep. But now, the song felt wrong—too familiar, too unsettling.

Her mother’s hollow eyes met hers, devoid of warmth, and the suffocating silence that followed was almost worse than the song.

[spiritofdragonfire]

Happy Threshing Day!

While Thunderbolt would be my dragon if I existed in HOTD, I like to think that if I existed in this fantasy series I would be bonded to a blue dragon, specifically a Blue Morningstartail!😁🔥🐲💙🏰⚔️

This beautiful artwork of my majestic Empyrean dragon OC was made by talented IG artist @vishap.art

His name is Saphir (suh-feer) which means "Sapphire" in Scottish Gaelic. I imagine him to be larger than Sgaeyl, but smaller than Tairn, with purplish-blue coloring and scales that shimmer like sapphire gemstones. Complete with glowing, golden-yellow eyes, obsidian-black horns, and a wickedly dangerous morningstartail, my dragon is truly a force to be reckoned with! My Saphir is as beautiful as he is powerful!