#Garrick Tavis angst

[soulofapatrick]

“Just trying to make sure you’re okay,” - Garrick Tavis x female reader

Summary: Oren tries to kiss you but you defend yourself before Garrick can intervene

Warnings: almost non-con kiss; mainly fluff

Words: 3.2k

Y/N's POV

The courtyard is quiet tonight, almost too quiet, as I speed walk through it to get back to the dorms before anyone finds me out of bed. But, of course, nothing can go smoothly because suddenly Oren is appearing in front of me, backing me into one of the darker corners of the yard. His hand clamps tightly around my wrist, blunt nails digging into my skin painfully through my riding leathers as he looks me up and down like some piece of meat. 

“What are you doing Oren?!” I grit out, trying to pull my arm free, but his hold seems to only tighten, nails probably drawing blood. 

Oren doesn’t listen. Instead, he ignores me completely, yanking me closer, and I nearly gag at the stench that hits me. Up close, he reeks of sweat and stale air, his skin slick with it. His breath is hot and foul, making my stomach turn as he leans in, eyes dark with something I don’t want to acknowledge. 

My heart pounds in my chest, the courtyard spinning around me as he comes even closer. 

“Stop!” I mutter, but the word is stuck in my throat, barely audible as his lips hover just inches from mine. His breath is suffocating, thick and sour, and I want to recoil, but I can’t. My chest tightens, and my heart is pounding so loud it drowns out everything around me. I feel trapped, the space between us shrinking with each breath, with every disgusting inch he moves closer. My skin crawls under his touch, his nails digging deeper into my wrist, sending sharp waves of pain through my arm. I want to scream, to thrash, but it’s as if my body refuses to cooperate, frozen in fear.

I want to cry. 

I feel my throat tighten with the urge, tears threatening to sting my eyes as panic bubbles up inside me. My mind races, searching for something—anything—to pull me out of this moment, to make this stop. But my voice is gone, stuck in my throat like a heavy stone.

I can hear Nyx in the back of my mind, a low growl vibrating through our bond. She senses my fear, my disgust, and it only amplifies her anger. Her presence is fierce, hot like the flames she can command, and it’s enough to remind me that I’m not helpless. I’m not weak.

And then I see it—movement. Out of the corner of my eye, two familiar forms lurking in the shadows. Xaden and Garrick. They’re close. Watching. I know they see what’s happening. The sight snaps me out of my stupor, adrenaline spiking in my veins like lightning. Something clicks in me. No. Not me—something else takes over, something fierce and powerful. Before I know it, my body moves on its own. My left fist swings up, and I don’t even think about the impact before it happens. My knuckles collide with Oren’s face, bone meeting flesh in a sickening crack.

The satisfaction is instant, a surge of power and pride washing over me as Oren stumbles back, clutching his cheek. His cry is sharp, high-pitched, almost girlish. My hand throbs with the blow, but the rush of adrenaline drowns out the pain.

He swears, stumbling as he tries to recover. “You—bitch,” he spits out, the word snarled through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of shock and fury. “Fucking crazy”

“Get the hell away from me,” I growl, voice finally steady, stronger than I thought possible. My arm is still throbbing, his nails having left deep indents, but I don’t care. Not anymore. Oren’s curses fill the air, each word sharper than the last as he stumbles, clutching his crooked, bleeding nose. His eyes burn with rage, and for a split second, I see him move forward, his hand dropping from his face as if he’s actually going to try something. My heart races again, but this time it’s different—I’m ready. My body hums with the rush of adrenaline, my hands balled into fists at my sides. 

Then, behind me, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Slow. Purposeful.

Xaden and Garrick emerge from the shadows like predators stalking their prey. They move in unison, lethal grace in every step. The tension in the air thickens, and Oren’s fury falters, replaced with something that looks like fear.

“You heard her.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the night like a blade, low and gruff, full of menace. It’s a command, not a suggestion, and it stops Oren in his tracks. His eyes flick between the two of them, the anger quickly draining from his face. For a moment, Oren looks like he wants to argue, but Xaden’s glare alone is enough to pin him in place. He swears under his breath, a mangled sound of frustration and pain, before finally turning on his heel, scampering away like a beaten dog.

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, the tension in my chest loosening as I watch him disappear into the darkness. The courtyard feels eerily quiet now, the only sounds the fading echo of Oren’s footsteps and the faint rustle of wind through the trees.

Before I can say anything, Xaden melts back into the shadows as swiftly as he appeared, his dark form blending with the night. I barely have time to open my mouth to thank him before he’s gone.

Now, it’s just me and Garrick.

The quiet between us feels thick but not uncomfortable. It’s like the night is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. His presence beside me is steady, a calm strength that I’ve come to rely on without even realising it. But tonight, it feels different. More intense, charged in a way I wasn’t expecting. His hazel eyes settle on me, soft but filled with something that makes my heart stutter, my pulse quickening under his gaze.

“Let me walk you back to your room," Garrick says, his voice deep and low, almost gravelly. There’s a protective edge to it, but also a gentleness that sends warmth flooding through me.

I nod softly, glancing up at him. Garrick is…Garrick. Pale skin that seems to glow in the moonlight, dark, messy curls that tumble around his face, and those striking hazel eyes that always seem to catch the light just right. His broad shoulders seem to take up twice the space as anyone else, his hulking frame making him appear almost too large for the quiet intimacy of this moment. He’s always towered over everyone, but there’s something comforting about it now, like his sheer size alone is enough to keep me safe from anything.

As we start walking, his footsteps slow and deliberate, he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "You handled yourself well back there," he murmurs, the compliment soft but sincere. His voice sends shivers down my spine, but in a good way.

“Thanks,” I mumble, still trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened. My hand instinctively goes to rub the sore spot on my wrist where Oren’s grip had been, the skin tender and red. My heart hasn’t fully calmed yet, the adrenaline still rushing through my veins.

Out of nowhere, I see a flicker of movement in the shadows, and before I can stop myself, I jump, my body reacting before my mind can. My hand flies out, gripping Garrick’s without thinking. My heart slams against my ribs, panic from the encounter with Oren still fresh in my mind.

His hand tightens around mine instantly, strong and reassuring. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate, just holds on, steady and unshakable. The warmth of his palm grounds me, the way his fingers curl around mine making me feel safe, like nothing can touch me as long as he’s here.

“Easy,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “It’s just a shadow.”

I nod, trying to steady my breathing as he leads me toward the dorm building. My heart is still hammering in my chest, but not just from the fear. There’s something else now, something unexpected. The way his hand feels in mine, the way he’s so calm, so present—it makes my stomach flip.

The dorm building looms ahead, dimly lit and quiet in the night. First-year cadets stay on the first floor, second years on the second, third years on the third. I’ve been here long enough to know the routine, and I expect him to lead me straight to my dorm on the first floor.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, we head up the stairs, each step making my pulse race a little faster. My hand stays firmly in his, his grip never loosening as he guides me upward. I glance up at him, confusion mixing with excitement. My nerves tingle as we climb higher and higher, past the first floor, then the second. My heart flutters in my chest, excitement thrumming through me as I realize where we’re heading.

He’s leading me to his floor.

I don’t ask why, and he doesn’t offer an explanation, but I don’t need one. The nervous energy swirling inside me is enough to keep me silent, anticipation sparking with every step.

We stop outside a door near the end of the hall, Garrick’s door. He pulls out a key and unlocks it with a quiet click. The door swings open, and he holds it for me, his broad frame taking up nearly the entire doorway. I duck under his arm, heart fluttering as I step inside.

His room is simple but unmistakably his. There’s a neatly made bed, sheets dark and crisp, and a large window with the moonlight streaming in, casting a silvery glow across the stone floor. A few personal belongings are scattered here and there—a well-worn book on the bedside table, boots tossed in the corner, and his riding gear draped over a chair. The space smells faintly of leather and something distinctly him, something warm and grounding. It’s comforting, yet I can’t help but feel a little out of place, unsure of why he’s brought me here instead of my own room.

Before I can ask, Garrick disappears into the small ensuite off to the side. I stand awkwardly near the bed, glancing around the room, feeling the nervous buzz in my stomach only grow stronger. A moment later, he returns, a small first aid kit in his hand.

It’s only then I notice the blood dripping down my arm, the dull ache in my wrist now sharp and stinging. Oren’s grip had cut deeper than I realized, nail marks leaving angry red trails down my skin.

Garrick’s eyes flick to my arm, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He guides me to sit on the edge of his bed, his touch gentle but firm. I swallow hard, trying to calm my racing heart as he kneels between my legs, settling there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

But my mind goes somewhere else entirely.

The sight of him kneeling between my legs, his large hands carefully rolling up my sleeve, sends a rush of heat through me that has nothing to do with the pain in my arm. He’s so close—so achingly close—that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, the scent of leather and something distinctly Garrick enveloping us. My heart races, each thump echoing in my ears, the quiet of the room amplifying the moment in a way that feels almost intimate.

His hazel eyes flicker to the cuts on my forearm, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s fully aware of the effect he has on me, the way my breath hitches in my throat as he hovers near. It’s as if he knows what this proximity does to me, and a thrill runs through my veins at the realization that maybe, just maybe, I do the same to him. I see the slight dilation of his pupils, the way his breathing slows as he focuses entirely on me, and my body ignites with a mix of nervous energy and undeniable desire.

The sting of the antiseptic pulls me back to reality, yet it only sharpens the knot of yearning tightening in my stomach. I try to remind myself this is just a simple first-aid moment, but the heat in the room feels electric. My mind races with thoughts of how his hands would feel against my skin, exploring in ways that have nothing to do with cuts and bruises.

And before I can stop myself, my fingers find his dark curls, threading through them like they were meant to be touched. They’re even softer than I imagined, silky and thick, each strand slipping between my fingers as if inviting me to pull him closer. I don’t realize how tightly I’m holding on until Garrick lets out a low, choked sound, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, his body freezing for just a moment.

The sound sends a jolt of electricity through me, awakening something primal and teasing in my nature. I can’t help the smirk that plays at my lips as I notice the flush creeping up his neck. He tries to regain his composure, but there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in his hazel eyes as he looks up at me, and I wonder if he feels the same pull I do.

“Sorry,” I murmur, feigning innocence even though my heart races with excitement. But it’s not just an apology; it’s an invitation. I want to see how he reacts, to push the boundaries just a little further.

As he resumes tending to my arm, his hands brushing against my skin send shivers racing up my spine. The intimacy of the moment is almost dizzying, and I can’t ignore the way he leans in slightly, the heat of his body melding with mine, the tension between us crackling like wildfire. I bite my lip, a mix of shyness and daring coursing through me as I realize I’m enjoying this far too much.

Garrick’s fingers linger on the edge of my sleeve, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel if he slid them higher, if he let himself explore the curve of my arm, the pulse in my wrist. The thought sends a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I catch the briefest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Just trying to make sure you’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, that teasing glint in his eye making it hard to breathe. And in that moment, the space between us feels charged, electric—like the very air around us is begging to be ignited.

Taking a leap of faith, I tug gently on his curls again, tilting his head up just enough to meet his gaze. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, the world outside fades away. My heart races, a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty swirling within me. Is this too far? But as I lean in, I can feel the heat radiating between us, a magnetic pull that draws me closer.

Before I can overthink it, Garrick surges up, closing the gap in a heartbeat. Our lips collide softly at first, a tentative exploration filled with the sweetness of newfound desire. His lips are plush and soft against mine, as if they were made for this very moment. I feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both.

As the kiss deepens, the hesitance gives way to something hotter and more fervent. Garrick shifts, rising over me, and the solid weight of him pressing me into the bed sends a thrill coursing through my veins. The sensation of his body enveloping me, so solid yet incredibly soft, feels intoxicating. His hands find my hips, fingers digging in just enough to elicit a gasp from my lips, while the other hand weaves into my hair, tilting my head to give him better access.

Every brush of his fingers against my skin sends shivers racing through me, igniting a burning desire I can no longer ignore. I run my hands up his chest, feeling the strength in his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. My fingers trace over the defined contours, relishing the solid warmth of him. His chest and abs are firm, but there’s an underlying softness that invites me to explore further, to push the boundaries of what’s possible between us.

The kiss grows more passionate, more desperate, as if we’re both trying to convey everything we’ve felt but couldn’t say. My heart races, each thump echoing in my ears, urging me to hold on tighter, to pull him closer. I can feel the heat radiating off him, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as the kiss deepens into something raw and hungry.

Garrick’s hands move with a gentle but possessive touch, gripping my hips as he hovers above me, his body fitting perfectly against mine. It’s as if we were always meant to be this way, lost in each other’s embrace, with every kiss unraveling a new layer of longing and connection.

As we kiss, I feel a surge of confidence blooming within me. This is right—this connection, this spark between us. I pull him closer, my fingers threading through his hair, deepening the kiss as I lose myself in the moment. Time seems to stand still, the world outside fading away, leaving only Garrick and me in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

I never want to stop kissing Garrick. Each brush of his lips against mine sends waves of warmth radiating through me, igniting a passion I didn’t know existed. I get lost in the taste of him, the softness, the way he fits against me perfectly as if we’re two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

But eventually, the kiss softens, and I can feel him pulling away, breathless and heated. His hazel eyes, usually so calm and steady, are now dark with desire, filled with a fire that leaves me wanting more. I see the flush on his pale skin, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, mirroring my own racing heart.

Garrick leans back slightly, though his hands remain resting on my hips, grounding us both in this moment. “We should... probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a mixture of longing and reluctance.

I can hear the unspoken words lingering in the air, the promise of more to come. “We can continue this later,” he adds, a teasing smile playing on his lips, as if he knows just how much he affects me.

A breathless laugh escapes me, the reality of what we’ve just shared sinking in. “Yeah, later,” I echo, feeling the heat radiate between us even as he pulls away fully.

The space between us feels both empty and electric, the remnants of our kisses hanging in the air like an unbroken promise. I watch him, heart pounding, already anticipating the next time our lips will meet, the next chance to explore this new, thrilling connection but knowing he’s mine and I’m his, sinking into his soft, Garrick smelling bed for the night. 

Fourth Wing Masterlist - To be made Comment to be added to tag list

[essjaywrites]

Glane's voice cuts me off mid thought. She doesn’t sound quite as acidic as she sometimes does. Maybe she can tell I’m about to fucking lose it – 

“You’re not going to lose anything, either,” she snaps, and I take it back - she sounds like her normal self again. “You’re a rider,” she continues. “You can handle a small… creature.”

She utters the word creature like it’s something distasteful. 

chapter 2 of mine and @alexandia03 's accidental child acquisition fic is up :) asking all the big questions like: will Malek come for you if you don't eat your beans?

[ficwingrecs]

rec by @siobhanbooks

Title: Death of a Hero by alexandia03

Main characters: Imogen Cardulo, Garrick Tavis, Bodhi Durran, Ridoc Gamlyn, Quinn, Xaden Riorson, Violet Sorrengail, Brennan Sorrengail, Rhiannon Matthias.

Main relationships: Imogen/Garrick, Bodhi/Ridoc, Xaden & Garrick, Imogen & Bodhi & Garrick & Xaden, Bodhi & Garrick, Imogen & Bodhi, Imogen & Quinn, Imogen & Bodhi & Quinn, Xaden/Violet

Major content warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Why I love it: It was written by the most incredible @alexandia03 who I just love. It's incredibly angsty between my favourite foursome (Imogen, Bodhi, Garrick, and Xaden). It's so beautifully well written and has so much thought put into it. The imagery is just absolutely insane and so well done. It's just so well done and I love it so much.

[quietstormxr]

Found You Again

You'll Survive - Part 2

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence/PTSD

Minor Iron Flame spoilers

Summary: After Garrick finds you still alive, you both have to deal with the consequences of torture, the coming war, and your relationship.

Word Count: <10k

A/N: Get a beverage and get comfy, this is going to be a long one. Got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be three parts. I have a few more scenes I want to add and didn't want to cram them all here! Hope y'all don't mind.

All it takes is a moment and you are shooting up from the bed that you had apparently been laying in. A scream still tearing from your throat as you scan your surroundings frantically. There are beads of sweat pouring from your temples and you can feel your heart beating a rapid staccato that you can’t seem to control. 

As you continue to heave breaths in and out you wildly search from left to right for any threats, the lingering phantom of hands holding you down ghosting across your skin. 

Your eyes finally snag on another pair staring at you with agonizing sorrow. You can’t help the way you scramble back out of the bed and as far away from the figure as you can. Your brain tries to remind you this figure won’t hurt you, but you can’t seem to connect the thoughts with the remnants of your dream that felt more like reality.

Your back finally hits cold stone and that makes you turn and jump again; memories of your head being smashed into the same type of stone only days ago vivid in your mind.

As the present slowly comes into focus and your dream fades away, your heartbeat slowing to a more reasonable rhythm, you finally begin to process the room in front of you. 

There’s no longer the smell of rotten earth and the metallic iron of dried blood, the floors are clean and there’s a large window showing the beginning cracks of sunlight rising from the horizon. You try to continue taking deep breaths as your gaze finally sweeps back to the pair of eyes that had you scrambling back before.

You meet the hazel gaze that shines with unshed tears and a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. No one could miss the way that he is holding himself to the chair that he has been sitting in, obviously an effort not to move or scare you. You can hear the wood of the chair creaking under the pressure and his knuckles turning his pale skin even whiter.   

You both stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, neither one of you speaking seeming to not want to break the spell that you’re both in. 

You slowly begin to straighten yourself from the shrunken in shape you had taken when waking from your nightmare. As you do, you notice that you are no longer in your torn and shredded flight leathers you were tortured in. Now, you are in oversized training clothes that you know must be Garrick’s. Your hand moves to your hair and the strands slide through your fingers. Someone must have bathed and changed you after you were mended.

You continue to look around the room you are in and take in the way that it looks lived in and has notes of Garrick all around. There’s a tapestry over the large inner wall that has a desk in front of it and a weapons rack right next to it. You can’t help the way you notice the number of swords that are littered on the other wall making rainbow of glittering sharp weapons.

Out the corner of your eye, you can see Garrick’s form slowly move from grasping the chair with a death grip to relaxing his hands in his lap. You swallow, noting the scratch of your throat as you do. The memory of the scream you awoke to striking in your mind. You bring your hand up to your throat and tap, hoping that he will understand the gesture and get you some water. 

Garrick gives you a short nod before he moves to the small table that is beside the bed. You watch as he pours a glass of water before turning back to you and slowly making his way to where you stand. Neither one of you deigns to speak as if either of you do the spell will be broken. 

As he hands you the glass, you give him a curt nod before taking a few steps out of his reach. His eyes continue to look pained, and his arm falls back to his side as if in defeat. 

You slowly take sips of the water trying to relish in the way the liquid quells the scratch of your throat. It doesn’t escape your notice that something that was so trivial now seems to be such a luxury. The use of your hands, a mended body, the ability to move away from someone whether a threat or not. You hold onto the glass with both hands as you continue to drink the water while walking back to the bed. You sit on the side and let your body drop back in relief of not being restrained. 

Emotions hit you hard suddenly and you look at your hands noticing the way they’ve begun to tremble. You let yourself slide from the bed onto the floor carefully placing the glass at your side. As you finally make contact with the ground, you clasp your hands together trying to steady them. Leaning your head against the mattress, you can’t control the gasp that leaves your mouth as your throat constricts and tears begin to stream down your face. You continue to take gasping breaths as the tears fall and your head stays firmly planted against the mattress. 

As the fog of emotion slowly begins to clear, you hear carefully measured footsteps come towards you. Turning your head slightly, you watch as Garrick comes towards you slowly. He crouches down not far from where you’ve melted into the floor, and you notice the tear streaks that mar his pale cheeks. Your gazes collide and there’s nothing but raw, charged emotion hanging in the air. If the last week had never happened, you would be laughing at the way the mountain of muscle before you had become so tentative. Gone was the bravado and over-confident air that seemed to follow him around.

“C-Ca-Can I touch you?” He questions stammering, his tone quiet and reserved. 

Your mind is suddenly a cacophony of thoughts. The anger that you’d been clinging onto burning bright, the fear of anyone touching you in any way, and the undeniable want to be held close and safe by the man in front of you waging a war on every front. 

“P – Please don’t.” You whisper as the fear and then anger win out over the softer emotions roiling within you. 

You know that the fear you’re feeling must have leeched into your voice, because it’s almost as if you can see the heart of the man in front of you breaking as the words leave your mouth. 

“What can I do?” He mumbles as he seems to waver on how exactly to move forward. 

You look at him with a mix of sadness, resolve, and anger in your features before replying. “Nothing.”

The fear and helplessness you were feeling moments ago morphing into the relentless anger that you had harbored for the man sitting next to you. It’s with that spark of fire that ignites in your body that you find yourself getting up from the floor and marching towards the door.

“Wait!” Garrick calls from behind you as you go to open the door. You’re immediately met with a barrage of sounds that cause you to shrink back. Your eyes wide with pure fear, darting back and forth among the cadets that seem to be milling about wherever you are. 

You immediately close the door again, your breaths coming in ragged pants as you plaster yourself to the back of the door. Terrified eyes look back up at Garrick before the questions start rapid firing in your mind.

“Wh-where are we?” The question coming out with pure confusion laced in your words. You knew you couldn’t be at Basgiath, but all those people couldn’t possibly be lieutenants. 

“You’re at Riorson House in Aretia.” He says in a calm tone.

“Who are all those people?” Your brows furrow trying to make sense of everything that’s happening all at once.

“They are all the cadets that defected when Riorson and I came for Violet.” As he continues to explain, you watch as he slowly moved forward. His hands are fisted at his sides and look as if they are trying to hold him in place. 

“When I finally found you again.” He continues as if the thought of getting to Basgiath for anyone but you wasn’t worth his time to dwell on. His hand starts to reach out for you of its own accord, but he finally realizes, and it falls back to his side.

As the facts start taking shape in your mind, you can’t help the confusion that seems to blanket you as well. 

“Defected? Are you telling me that you took me, injured, from the little protections that Navarre does offer?” You incredulously look back at him, your eyes boring into his soul.

Garrick seems taken aback by your phrasing of the question and rage flashes in his eyes. “What protections?” His voice starts to raise slightly as the anger builds.

“Do you really think torturing you within an inch of your life is much protection? Of course, I fucking took you! I wasn’t leaving you with those sadistic fuckers.” He hisses, the switch to anger turning palpable as you see memories haunt his face.

He stops just a few steps from you and brings his face down to be level with yours. “And I would fucking do it again if it means knowing you are safe. I don’t give a shit whether you like it or not.”

Your face contorts into a sneer as the anger you felt before being taken roars back to life. But you aren’t complaining because at least the anger can drown out the fear. With that knowledge, you turn again back to the door and fling it open while Garrick tries to grab your arm, the fear you had shown him forgotten as he tries to catch up with you. 

You have no idea where you are going, you are just moving down the hallway trying to get away from the man that is yelling your name. You slink through the cadets that are milling about as fast as you can, using your smaller agile frame against Garrick’s herculean form. You descend the stairs and find a door open to the left and swiftly enter trying to escape. 

Unfortunately, it seems Zinhal has other plans for you today. As you suddenly come to a halt you look around and see that you’re obviously now in a training room that regrettably contains Bodhi, Xaden, and Imogen. The three of them turn to you with slight shock on their faces before you can hear Garrick’s voice burst into the room.

“Y/N.” He breathes in an exasperated breath before looking at the other three gathered as well. His eyes seeming to zero in on Bodhi.

You watch as Garrick stomps over to Bodhi with deadly intent. His uncertainty on how to handle the situation with you crumbling all the restraint left to his anger, fear, rage, and powerlessness to fix the torture you had to endure.

“You.” He growls menacingly while staring at him with a murderous gleam. 

“You knew she was fucking alive and didn’t think to tell me!” He roars. “I never thought my ‘brother’ would keep something like that from me.”

Bodhi’s face falls completely and that’s when you know that you must step in. You may not be overly friendly with Bodhi, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated badly because of the spot you put him in. You walk in between the two right before Garrick goes to grab Bodhi’s collar. You push Garrick’s hand aside and look up at him with a fire dancing in your own eyes.

“I made that decision for him.” You utter coldly. 

Garrick finally removes his gaze from Bodhi and looks down at you, the anger in his eyes softening in some of its sharpness. 

“Bodhi told me to write you the minute he saw me land at Basgiath, but I tied his hands.” You explain with no hint of remorse. “You left me behind, all while your little pink girlfriend smirked at me in smug satisfaction. You showed your cards to me, remember?”

Garrick’s anger seems to evaporate, and his entire expression turns into regret, but this time you aren’t swayed. 

“Then I went to Eltuval and found myself alone on patrol and learning that venin and wyvern were real. Alone. Something I believe you know a little about.” You add sarcastically as you gesture to the expanse of Riorson House. 

Your anger at the whole situation and what you had to face alone comes rushing back. A derisive laugh bubbling up at the predicament you find yourself in.

“You left me behind, told me I would survive without you, then I was left alone on watch and became the number one target for a massive wyvern doing its own patrol of Navarre’s borders.” You revealed while the anger and level of your voice began to rise. 

The expression on Garrick’s face is laughable to say the least. You watch as his regret turns to disbelief back to anger and finally lands back on regret. 

“That – That’s impossible.” A female voice stammers from behind you.

You huff a humorless laugh and turn towards the voice. You narrow your eyes in a glare at the girl staring back at you in disbelief. 

“Tell that to the scars on my back from the wyverns razored feathers.” You say as you stalk towards Violet with an ominous look in your eyes.

“Did you think that your little group was the only one who found themselves the victim of the cadre’s wrath? Did you think they were only after your precious Wingleader?” You spit the derision in your tone obvious as you gesture towards the brooding shadow wielder.

“You are more naïve than I thought if you believe that Colonel Aetos was only going to go after the marked ones alone.” You asserted as you walked into Violet’s space, looking down at the girl who was a few inches shorter than you.

You couldn’t help the mocking laugh that slipped past your lips when you noticed Xaden step up to her back as if you intended on hurting the girl in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Riorson. I have absolutely no intention of hurting your dear girl. I just want her to realize that you weren’t the only ones that the cadre had an issue with.” You sneered with boredom lacing your tone. 

“Now if your little family gathering will excuse me.” You gesture towards all the ones gathered there making a circling motion with your hand. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

You take three steps away before you feel a large, calloused hand wrap around your upper arm. You can’t help the way you flinch and your eyes flash at the touch.

“You can’t go out there by yourself. It’s dangerous and anything could happen to you.” Garrick explains sounding like he’s trying to reason with you. You forcefully pull your arm from his grip before turning around.

“No, see here’s where you’re wrong.” You purr with conviction while thrusting your finger into his chest forcefully. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I die,” you shrug your shoulders conveying your nonchalance “then so be it. At least I won’t be haunted by the nightmares any longer.”

“I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.” Garrick barked blocking you from your path.

You take your time looking back directly into those hazel eyes. “You, my dear Garrick, lost your fucking privilege of caring about what I do about five months ago. Why don’t you go rut with one of the other mares in your stable and leave me the fuck alone.”

As you swiftly turn your body and continue your walk, there was no way to avoid hearing the shocked gasps at the words you said. Even though you knew you still loved Garrick, your heart was walled off to him after he became just another one of the men who continued to disappoint you. 

Right before you closed the door, you couldn’t help overhearing Garrick’s loud curse and a roaring bang that you surmised must have been a punch to the nearest punching bag or possibly a wall. A small, satisfied smirk crawled across your face when you realized that you could successfully still get under Garrick’s skin.

As soon as you were outside the heavy wooden doors of the fortress, you looked down and noticed the shifting of shadows.

“Leave me the fuck alone Riorson.” You spit while stepping over them. 

As you kept walking, you found yourself entering the small, reconstructed town of Aretia. You had heard stories of the burning and due to your interest in geography and history had more knowledge than your average cadet. However, you had no idea where you were going; you just knew that you needed to get away. 

You continued along the path, but still noticed the wisp of a shadow that followed you. Clearly Xaden wasn’t going to let you be alone, so you knew what you would have to do to throw off your wisping tail. Without much thought, you walked into the nearest shop that was bustling with townspeople trying to do their daily shopping. 

The minute you stepped in, you changed your entire appearance with the aid of Diomat’s power. You made your hair shorter and darker, your eyes a shade of sapphires you hadn’t seen anyone else have and reduced the look of your height. As soon as your looks were fully disguised, you walked back out of the shop. Taking a deep breath when you were finally away from the crowd, and you stepped into the shade of the nearest tree. Looking around for your unfortunate addition, you were happy to find that you must’ve slipped the shadows notice. 

When you confirmed there was no longer a wisp following you, you proceeded to continue your walk into town.

You couldn’t help the smile that immediately lit up your face as you watched children playing and mother’s going about their days. Something about seeing this domesticity made your resolve about fighting in the coming war harden. You knew there was no way that you would let these people suffer if you didn’t have to. Especially after experiencing what torture could be doled out from your own cadre, let alone an enemy. 

After walking a while, you found a small café and ordered a hot chocolate while sitting at one of the small tables. You sat there watching the calm lives of the civilians outside and continued to smile in your revelry of the small things. You were so engrossed in your own daydream that you startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Looking up in a swift turn, you are surprised to find a pair of liquid silver eyes staring back at you. You couldn’t help the way you appraised the stranger. You had never seen a man with such mesmerizing eyes. You continued to stare at the man in front of you, now noticing his raven hair and warm honey skin. 

“Can I help you?” You asked as you continued appraising the stranger in front of you.

“I’m sorry to bother you. But I had to ask as I was unsure if I was hallucinating. Did you change your appearance in that shop across the road?” He queried you while giving a slight tilt to his head indicating the shop you had left. 

You turned a little sheepish not really knowing how much you should reveal to the man in front of you.

“I don’t mean to catch you off guard.” He continues with a placating tone. “I’m a guard at Riorson House and by the clothing, I assumed you were a rider, and obviously noticed you before the hair and eye color change.”

You shake your head in acknowledgement before giving him a reply.

“Yes, I did. I was just trying to shake a little shadow and have some time to myself.”

He nods in acceptance obviously realizing what exactly you are insinuating. 

“Ah, yes. The real question is why Lieutenant Riorson is needing to follow you around.” He added pure curiosity in his face.

“If you’re asking if I’m a threat, I can assure you I’m not. After days of torture, I’m not sure how much of a menace I could be right about now.” You muse not afraid to share your misfortunes. 

“So, are you the Sorrengail or Lieutenant Tavis’ interest?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the remote possibility you could be Violet Sorrengail. 

“I’m not naïve enough to be Sorrengail. Besides, do you really think Riorson would let her out of his sight?” You criticized seeing that you can’t imagine how someone who was hailed at being so smart couldn’t imagine that the cadre of Navarre wouldn’t just take out anyone they saw as a threat in any way.

“So, you’re the one that Tavis thought was dead.” He surmises. 

Your eyes widen slightly and then narrow in suspicion. 

“And exactly how do you know that?” 

He gives a small smile before continuing. “I promise I mean you no harm and I don’t report back to Riorson or Tavis if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“If that’s the case. How exactly do you know all of this? I can’t imagine that the love lives of mere lieutenants are the subject of gossip.” You can’t help but question this man that has seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

He nods in understanding and gestures asking to sit at the table that I’ve taken residence at. You offer the seat, and he immediately sits down across from you. 

“You’re right in one instance. People aren’t normally interested in the love lives of the Lieutenants. However, I’m guessing you are aware of why people would be concerned with Riorson’s life.” You give a slight shift of your head confirming your understanding.

“Being that Riorson is the most important person to the Tyrrish people, it does not escape them that Tavis is his right hand. Therefore, both of their lives are heavily scrutinized from the Assembly, hence my knowledge on the subject.”

He goes on to continue to regale you with stories of both men, including Bodhi in the bunch. He takes time to explain how the Assembly learned of your existence since you were apparently a wrench in their plans. No one expected Garrick to be entangled with anything more than physical, let alone a first year.  

You also learn that this man’s name is Fabien, and he has been a guard at Riorson House since about two years after the Apostasy. His family owns the café that you are currently sitting in, but they had previously been servants at Riorson House as well. 

Oddly enough, you begin to let your guard down and find yourself being drawn into the grey eyes and warm personality of the man in front of you. It has been a while since you had met someone so open and willingly trusting. 

You could only think that a person like Fabien would be torn down immediately at Basgiath. The sad reality that the thought even crossed your mind crashing into you.

Soon enough, the light of the sun began waning into the horizon beyond the cliffs. You looked out at the setting sun and something in the shift of your facial features must’ve given away your decision to get back to Riorson House. 

“I know it’s getting late, and I imagine that you need to get back. Would you mind if I escort you back to the fortress?” Fabien asks as you both rise from the table. 

“I’d hate to be a bother, especially if you weren’t planning on going back today.” You say giving him an easy out from his ask. Although you were hoping he would still want to as you were slightly unsure of how to get back to the fortress.

“I insist. I’m more than confident you can handle yourself, but I will feel better if you’d allow me to escort you.” He declares.

‘I expect you to accept his offer, Bold One.’ Diomat slithers into your mind, reminding you that she’s watching out for you as well.

‘Yes, ma’am.’ You sass back, smiling at the exasperated huff you hear down your bond.

You nod your head in agreement and push in the chair that you had been relaxing in all day. As soon as you step into the night air you can’t help the shiver that crawls up your spine, the oversized training clothes not doing much to shield from the chill of the October air. Fabien must see your discomfort because not even ten steps later, he has thrown his cloak over you and closed the middle clasp. You give him a small thankful smile before you both continue your saunter back towards the doors of the fortress.

As you walk with him, you find yourself continuing to fall into conversation and chat about anything and everything. He takes great care to point things out around the town and let you know little stories from both his childhood and the ‘three musketeers’ that ran terror around the town growing up. In return, you tell him stories of your childhood growing up on the coastline and the scuffles you got yourself into with your siblings. 

As you both get to the gates of Riorson House, you can’t hold in the boisterous laugh that tears from you at a particularly funny story involving three small children and a two-tiered chocolate cake. As you round the corner, you see a tall, muscled figure pacing back and forth in front of the wooden doors. The minute the sound of your laugh touches his ears, you watch as he turns to look directly at you. 

Garrick’s eyes twinkle at the sound of your laugh before his gaze follows to the person that is standing next to you. His eyes immediately harden at the man standing next to you. You watch as he strides towards you with clear purpose.

Without giving him too much attention, you turn to Fabien and go to unclasp his cloak. However, before you can undo the clasp, Fabien touches your hand stopping you.

“Please keep it.” He says while looking out the corner of his eye, obviously watching the mountain of muscle that is marching straight towards you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You go to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like if you would.” He states. “I’d also like to see you again sometime, whenever you aren’t too busy.”

You go to respond to him, but you are cut off by a gruff voice replying before you. “She’s too busy all the time.”

You turn a glare at the man that has decided he needed to put himself between the two of you. You step around Garrick and give him a glare that he doesn’t acknowledge.

“We’ll see each other again.” You say looking at the man who has treated you as more than a beautiful annoyance all afternoon. “I’ll make sure to stop by when I get some free time. In the meanwhile, thank you so much for the wonderful afternoon, stories, and the cloak.”

Fabien gives you a slight bow and nod with his smile before he turns on his heels and you watch as he walks outside the fortress walls. You spin on your heels and head towards the doors. As you go to open the door, a large hand covers yours and turns your body to face them.

You look up at Garrick with a face of exasperation your eyes turning tired. 

“How did you slip past Xaden’s shadows?” He questions. 

“That’s none of your business, Lieutenant.” You snap at him.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I’ve been sitting next to that bed for three days waiting for you to wake up. Praying to any gods who would listen to make sure you’d be alright.” He explains while running a hand through his hair. 

“Will you ever give me another chance?” He says quietly. 

“What chance do I need to give?” You snarl back harshly. “You made your decision and told me that I would survive without you, didn’t you? So here I am, surviving without you.”

You watch as he rakes his hand through his hair again and blows out a growl of utter frustration.

“Yes, I said that, and I was a fucking idiot.” He starts as he moves closer to you. “You don’t know how much I regretted those words the moment you mounted Diomat and left me behind. Hell, the moment they left my mouth.”

His hand rises to your face and cups the side of your jaw, his thumb rubbing lazy circles over your cheek. 

“Then I flew back to Basgiath after Resson and the only bright light I could think of was your face.” A faraway look clouds his eyes as the memory fizzles inside his mind.

“When everyone was trying to play their part to make sure no one knew the truth, I kept searching formation for you. I looked up and down every row, every face looking for your eyes.” He recounts. “I was standing there trying to breathe and keep my composure so that we could sell our story. But the only thing I wanted to do was run down to your squad and ask every single person where you were.”

You take a deep breath as you stare into the worried hazel eyes that seem to dart all around your face as if cataloging every detail. 

“What do you want from me Garrick?” You ask tiredly not knowing whether you’re willing to give the man in front of you anything anymore.

“You.” He says breathlessly while bringing his forehead to rest on yours. “I fucking want you.”

You can feel how tense his body is from holding himself back from rushing to crush your body to his. Every muscle in his arms seem to sing with want to move and not let go, but you aren’t convinced.

You push yourself back from him and take his hand from your face. You bring it down and let it fall limp next to his body. 

“You of all people knew how many men in my life have let me down.” You reply, drawing your gaze down with the tears that are beginning to fill your eyes. You lift them back to Garrick and let him see your eyes shine with held back emotion.

“I was expecting better from you. I was expecting to be your priority, but I wasn’t. Not to mention you were keeping secrets. I feel like I don’t even know you.” You tell him as a single tear slips down the side of your face. 

Garrick’s face becomes a whirlpool of emotion as your words crash around him. He knew all the ways men in your life had failed you, yet he let himself do the same. 

“I was tortured because of your secrets that you didn’t see fit to tell me.” You can’t help the small shake of your head in disbelief and the haunted look of your eyes. “You knew that I would keep any secret and take it to my grave before putting anyone in danger, especially you. However, you chose to take my agency. You chose what you thought was best, with I’m sure some assistance from your friendly shadow. But, at the end of the day, you made your decisions.”

You begin to walk towards the heavy doors again before turning back towards the man that held your entire heart. 

“Now it’s time for me to make my own decisions. It will be on my terms if anything else happens between us.”

As you enter the fortress, the realization that you have nowhere to go dawns on you after remembering it was Garrick’s room you woke up in. As if in answer to your question, Xaden steps out of one of doorways in the hallway in front of you. With purpose written on your features, you walk up to your previous Wingleader. 

“I need a room to stay in.” You say unceremoniously to the man standing in front of you.

He looks at you with a hint of confusion on his face, before nodding his head and walking further into the fortress. You follow him and hope that you’ll be able to keep the talking to a minimum. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay where you are?” He asks while continuing to walk forward, though he does turn to glance back at you. “The rooms in the family wing are significantly larger than those in the barracks.”

“I’m sure.” You can’t help the terse way you respond. 

Suddenly he turns and faces you. The quick way he moves and turns towards you has you retreating and running into the wall. You can feel the way that your face has twisted in fear at his movements and watch as the brooding man before you softens uncharacteristically. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He softly says while taking a few steps back. “We’ll get you assigned a room, but you should know that Garrick isn’t going to like being separated from you after everything.”

Your eyes roll at the statement and Xaden looks at you with a sad understanding. 

“Trust me when I say that both of us have said and done things in the past year that we deeply regret.” He starts in a rare moment of vulnerability from the hard man he usually is. “I’m not going to try and convince you to be with Garrick, but I do want you to know that it wasn’t Garrick’s call to leave you for War Games. It was mine.”

“I know that.” You argue. “It wasn’t the not being taken, it was the way he handled it and the words he said.”

You huff a cynical laugh before continuing. “I’m sure even Violet would admit that every girl wants the man that she’s with to show a little fight when it comes to her.”

It was then that Xaden blew out a huff of his own. “You may think that he didn’t fight for you. But you didn’t see him after he saw you in that chamber. When Aetos caught you after you fainted,” He stops shaking his head while recollecting the memory. “I’ve never seen Garrick move so fast to get to you and wrap you in his arms. When flying back here, he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch you.”

“Not to mention, you need to realize that sometimes a man makes a decision purely on the thought of keeping the woman he loves safe.” He catches me before I can open my mouth to argue back. “Whether or not she may like what that decision is. Sometimes he may prefer her to hate him if that means she’s safe.”

You look into the eyes of the man in front of you and his face is nothing but open and serious. You give him a curt nod noting your understanding before he turns back around, and you both continue down the hallway. 

Good to his word, Xaden finds you a room and even though you expected to be in the barracks, your room ends up being on the floor underneath the family rooms. You thank him for helping you and close the door to your room. 

You heave out a large breath before unceremoniously dropping yourself onto the bed. You turn and let your eyes drift to the ceiling of the room trying to quiet your churning mind.

______

Due to the amount of mending that you had to have after Varrish’s particularly brutal forms of torture, you were given some time off before having to join in with the rest of the cadets. However, after learning of your fate in Eltuval, you were summoned to the Assembly to explain exactly what you saw.

As you walked into the large room, you couldn’t help but notice the long table that ran the length of the room with several members lining each side. However, the thing that really took your attention was the large chair sitting slightly higher than all the rest and not just the chair, but the man lounging in it. 

There was Xaden sitting in the half-burned chair, legs stretched out in front of him with a bored look on his face. And if there was any question left in your mind about where Garrick fell, it was answered today. There he was stood behind the chair with his twin swords strapped to his back, arms folded across his chest looking as if he was assessing each and every person and the threat they may pose. 

A General guarding his King.

Garrick’s eyes met yours and you watched as his stance softened ever so slightly, the same way it always would at Basgiath. A sad smile sprawled across your lips as you shook your head slightly at the memory. 

“Cadet L/N.” You looked up as a man with auburn curls called your name and motioned you to take a seat at the middle of the table. “We appreciate you talking to us about your experience in Eltuval. Feel free to begin whenever you’d like.”

You make your way to the seat and tentatively sit down. You heart begins to flutter in your chest and nerves begin to make you stomach tighten. You place your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I’m not sure how much information that I have to share that will enlighten you more than what you already know.” You start, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with all of these older riders.

“I was given orders to patrol a specific area within the borders of our position at Eltuval. Diomat and I proceeded to the area and began our patrol as normal. About a half an hour into the watch, there was a large roar from the northwestern part of our patrol.” You take another fortifying breath before the assembly seems to fade and your eyes become your memories.

“As I looked towards the sound, blue flames erupted from the mouth of the beast. I consulted with my dragon, as I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking at. Diomat confirmed that it was a wyvern and confirmed that I could kill it with a blade that Lieutenant Tavis had previously gifted me.” As you finish your sentence, your eyes involuntarily flick to the man in question.

“Diomat then flew towards the wyvern as it headed straight for us in return. As we made our way there, I utilized my signet to be able to get down on the wyverns back. Once there, I slammed the blade in and was able to slash through half of its neck while it flailed.”

“Regrettably, I was thrown into its razored mane before I was flung into the air. Luckily, Diomat was able to catch me, and we returned to the outpost. From there, my wounds were tended to, and I told the cadre that I was hurt from falling from Diomat’s back.” As you finish, you look around the room at the eyes staring back at you. A mix of disbelief and astonishment fixed on all their faces, all but one. Garrick is looking as if he might be sick from the recounting of your tale. 

“Are you saying that you jumped on the back of a wyvern and killed it with your own hands?!?” A man with a hawkish nose barks out incredulously.

Your head immediately whips to him and your eyes narrow. “Why the hell would I lie?” You challenge the man.

“Why should we believe this tale? The whole thing sounds of fairytales.” A woman with an axe strapped to her back argues back.

“I thought venin and wyvern were fairytales, yet here we are in an Assembly room that is trying to figure out best way to beat them.” You fume as you gesture to the people sitting around the table while standing up from your seat. 

“And even though I shouldn’t have to fucking qualify my story for you to believe me, how about I fucking show you.” The anger at their accusations has turned your body into a raging wildfire. 

With that fire burning in your veins, you turn around and lift the back of your shirt. There’s no way to ignore the gasps of horror that leave the mouths of the people in the room. You know what they’re seeing, large scars that bisect through the part of the relic that Diomat placed on your back.

“So yes, I jumped on the back of a damn wyvern and killed it. And no, it wasn’t a fucking fairytale.” After you finish speaking you bust out of the room, the fire in your veins still burning brightly.

You know from experience there are only two ways to burn the fire licking at you. You decide that its been too long since you’ve seen Diomat and find yourself immediately making a beeline for the large front doors. Just before you are about to grab one of the handles and swing the door open, a large hand wraps around your arm.

You are immediately tugged around and enveloped in large arms. Your anger is still burning hot on the surface so thankfully the fear of being restrained hasn’t bubbled up. 

“Gods.” Garrick breathes as he holds you tightly. “It’s so much worse than I thought it was.”

“What did you think I was making it up too?” You huff out cynically. He moves one of the hands from the hug and pulls back slightly to grab your chin in his hand. 

“Of course, I didn’t. I was just hoping it wasn’t as bad as I thought. But apparently, it was worse.” He answers his eyes serious with a hint of sadness. The next thing you know he’s huffing out a small laugh. “I don’t know whether I want to be angry with you for risking your life so recklessly or just be in wonder at how astonishing you are.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You can be both, but I need to get out of here.” With that you turn from the man and make your way outside of the fortress.

You’re thankful that Diomat shares your mind, because without you even having to ask, she touches down in the large courtyard upsetting the guards and garden below. Without caring, you mount your dragon and immediately take to the skies. 

After a few hours, your lack of flight leathers begins to wear on you as you become colder and colder.

‘Diomat, how close to town can you get me?’ You ask your dragon hoping that you can finish of this tiring day with a warm cup of hot chocolate. 

‘I can take you to the edge of the woods. Due to the civilians, they ask the dragons not to get too close and scare them. If you walk the path, then you should be at the town in about ten minutes from what Chradh says.’ She confirms down your bond.

You look down giving the back of your dragon’s neck a raised eyebrow as you hear her mention Chradh.

‘Why are you speaking with Chradh all of a sudden?’ Your eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

You hear a huff of amusement in your mind before she replies. ‘I suppose because his rider keeps pestering him about my whereabouts, and therefore yours as well.’

You can’t help the snarking laugh that you let out while Diomat begins to descend into the woods. ‘Well how about you just let him know you’re going back to the valley and leave me out of this one.’

As you begin walking away, Diomat huffs a blast of steam at you before nudging you with her maw. You glance back at her and give a wide smile.

As you begin your walk into town, the anger seems to bleed out of you again as you enjoy the day-to-day activities of the people around you. Soon enough, you find yourself outside of the café again and a smile breaks across your face as you see Fabien wave you in from the window. 

“Come in.” He says as he steps out from behind the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you in here so soon.”

“I didn’t anticipate a visit today, but I’m in need of a warm beverage.” You admit. “Preferably, one of those delicious hot chocolates.” You say sheepishly.

A genuine smile breaks across Fabien’s face.  “Of course, that’s no problem at all.”

You watch as Fabien disappears behind the counter to make your hot chocolate. Settling into the chair, you let your head fall to stretch your neck muscles from the flight and take a deep breath. Suddenly you feel someone tapping on your shoulder and you go to move your head expecting to see Fabien looking back at you.

Looking up, you are met with a pair of light green eyes. The snarl that formed on your lips was purely instinctive. Why couldn’t this little group just leave you alone when you wanted to be alone?

“Why can’t you all just go the fuck away?” You sighed exaggeratedly.

“Because you are going to stay seated and listen whether you like it or not.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the commanding tone that Imogen takes. 

“Well, I don’t like it. So how about I don’t listen.” You were in no mood to listen to anything the girl in front of you had to say.

“Look, I’m not here for you. I’m here because I love Garrick.” You can’t help the way your eyes widen and look back at Imogen when she finishes her statement.

“Oh-kay.” You say unsure on how to proceed. “We aren’t together, so I’m unsure as to why you need to talk to me about him. If you want to tell him you love him, shouldn’t you be saying that to him.”

Imogen rolls her eyes at you while beginning to sit in the seat across from yours. 

“The bastard is more than aware of my feelings.” She replies tersely. “But that doesn’t matter when he only has eyes for you.”

“I know that Xaden has already talked to you.” She goes on to explain and you quirk your eyebrow at the girl in front of you. “Don’t look so surprised, we all talk. Besides, its time to get off your high dragon and forgive the man.”

“Excuse me.” You say incredulously. You honestly can’t believe Imogen would have the gall to say that considering she wants to be with Garrick.

“Look, I get it. He was an asshole. Welcome to Garrick and his best friend Xaden for that matter. If you wanted the sweet one, you should’ve gone for Bodhi.” She continues. “I know Xaden told you that Garrick was doing what he thought was best, but it wasn’t only that.”

“He was doing what he wished he could’ve done for his own family. His mother. He’s always pushed women away because of losing his mom, but you somehow broke through that barrier. You’re the only girl I’ve ever seen him care about as more than just a friend or good fuck.”

“I’m not saying you should give him a free pass.” Imogen admits. “But I am telling you to let him in. Let him grovel and work for you. He needs that, needs you, just like Riorson needs Violet.”

You let your gaze bore into Imogen’s and see the hard set of her face and eyes, even though she can’t hide the flash of pain. In that moment, you can’t help but hate the whole situation that seems to have formed between the three of you.

“Imogen, I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.” You say seriously. “But I want you to know I am sorry. I never meant to show up and take anything from you, regardless of if you believe me or not.”

Pale green eyes look straight at you and a sad smile crosses her face fast before it falls, and she moves to get up. 

“Don’t throw away a chance at happiness over some heated words.” She urges before sharply turning and walking out of the doors. 

As she walks off, Fabien shows up with your hot chocolate and a small smile. You thank him and take a sip relishing the way the warmth of the drink seems to flow through your body. 

As you finish your drink and bid Fabien good night, you begin your walk back to the fortress and let Imogen’s words ruminate. Between her and Xaden, you could feel the anger in your heart for Garrick lessening day by day. 

As soon as you arrive back at the fortress, you look up to see the man with the auburn curls from the assembly looking back at you.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see.” He says and you look around checking to see if anyone else is there. 

“Yes, Cadet L/N. I’m speaking to you. I just have a few more questions to ask.” He explains as he beckons you back into the same room you were in earlier. 

You look around and notice that now you are the only two in the room that was previously filled. He turns back around to look at you and motions to a chair.

You sit as he begins to speak. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. I know we didn’t get to introductions earlier.”

“No, he’s my brother, Brennan Sorrengail.” A female voice breaks in from the doorway. You watch as the man in front of you rolls his eyes as Violet moves into the room as well. 

“Either way, I wanted to ask you about your signet.” Brennan continues. “You said that you used it to drop onto the wyvern but didn’t explain what exactly it was.”

You look around at both people in the room and can’t help the uncertainty you feel at revealing your secret, even Carr wasn’t privy to all that your signet could do.

“I can change my appearance.” You begin to explain. Both of the faces in front of you widen in shock as you begin to detail the fact that you can change your entire body and clothing to replicate anyone. 

“With encouragement from Diomat, I – uh – I shifted to look like a venin I remembered from a book that was read to me growing up.” You say tentatively.

“Tha -That’s incredible.” Brennan speaks up after the shock begins to wear off. “And the wyvern didn’t think anything of you being on top of it while shifted to look like a venin?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t there long before I sliced the blade into it.”

As you look back at the man in front of you, you can’t help as you watch the gears in his head turn through his eyes. 

“Could you show us?” He asks curiously.

“I can.” You reply in turn. “But – “

“But, what?”

“You have to remember that it’s me and not an acutal venin.” You croak worried that you’re about to be seen as a threat.

“Understood.” He confirms as Violet goes to stand next to him. 

After taking a long deep breath, you reach for Diomat’s power and let it flow through your body. You let your mind drift to the illustration in the book and feel as your fingers tingle. When you look back up, you see two sets of eyes as wide as saucers and know what it must look like to the people standing in front of you. 

Before anyone has time to speak, the door to the Assembly room opens and you can sense two people have entered. 

“Violence, I –“ The voice stops and suddenly you feel yourself being hoisted up by your throat, your hands reflexively going up to try and grab at the obstruction. However, when you try, there’s nothing to grab onto and you’re left kicking and flailing your arms. As the fear of being held begins to grip you, the hold on your power leaves and you’ve changed back into yourself.

“Xaden! Stop!” You hear Violet shout a second before you are dropped to the floor. You try to take a breath, but the fear has you in a cloud you can’t escape. You hear footsteps rushing towards you as you continue to take gasping breaths, your hands wrapping gently around your neck. 

“Y/N. Love, are you alright?” You shrink back as inescapable fear comes barreling in and your eyes blow wide. You look back into hazel eyes, seeing pure concern laced there. 

After what feels like hours, your heartrate finally slows again, and you can take full breaths. Looking up, the room around you feels frozen in time. Looks of horror and sorrow gracing each person’s face. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Xaden breathes quietly as if afraid to speak. You sit there with your hand around your neck and stare straight back at the man not really registering his words. 

“I – I’m going to go upstairs.” You croak through your abused vocal cords. You try to slowly get up on your feet and as soon as you’re standing, you feel your legs giving out. Before you can fall to the ground, you can feel a strong arm grip you around your waist. 

Looking to your side, you see Garrick looking back at you cataloging each blossoming bruise on your neck. His brows furrow as his concern grows. You can feel the bruising already and know that they must be turning a mottled shade of purple. 

Before you can think much more, you find yourself being scooped up into Garrick’s arms as his face turns hard and he begins walking up the stairs. Even though you are tense, you try to let yourself settle into his arms. You close your eyes for a second and before you know it, you can feel Garrick dropping to a bed with you still cradled close. 

“Why does it always seem that my family and I are always hurting you?” He rumbles lowly while dropping his head.

“It wasn’t Xaden’s fault.” You rasp, your voice feeling like its grating against sandpaper.

Garrick looks back at you and brings his hand to your chin, tilting your neck up. Soon the blue green of his hazel eyes disappears, and they become a molten shade of gold, hard and angry. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He seethes as you watch him catalog the bruises along your neck. A sad smile blooms on your face and you bring your hand to his jaw, moving his face to look directly at you. You shake your head no before swallowing hard to speak.

“It wasn’t his fault. I knew it would be a risk to show them. I just didn’t think anyone would walk into the room before I could change back.” You finish before you end up coughing trying to coat the damage to your vocal cords.

As you finish, you feel the way Garrick’s face nuzzles into the hand that is still placed along his jaw. You look up to see his eyes closed as if he is trying to drink up every moment. A lost man wandering the desert for a drink of water.

Something about the gesture causes a crack in the wall that you’d built around your heart for the man that still has you cradled close. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen the worry, tension, and stress melt from his face since War Games. 

A sudden knock at the door brings you both out of the moment. Garrick looks down at you and as if he can’t resist, brings his lips to the side of your head and gives you a quick kiss. He then sets you down gently on the bed and goes to open the door. 

“I thought Y/N could use some mending.” You hear a male voice call from the other side of the door. You watch as Garrick nods his head slightly before opening the door and letting Brennan in. Brennan shuffles in and with sad eyes looks at the bruises across your neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I mend you?” Brennan asks tentatively. You give a curt nod before he is standing before you and you tilt you head back for him to get a better view of your neck. You shut your eyes tight as the tears silently flow down the side of your head, the burning sensation of mending filling your head. 

Almost as soon as it begins, the pain seems to lessen slowly, little by little. You finally blink open your eyes and slowly lift your head back. 

“Better?” Brennan questions as he rises back up to his full height. 

“Much. Thank you.” You confirm.

“I know after what just happened, you may want to say no.” Brennan starts. “But I think it would be beneficial for everyone to get the visual of what they may be dealing with on the battlefield.”

You know where he’s going with his comment and your immediate response is to shake your head. However, wading through the panic, the logic starts to win out and you take a deep breath. 

“Would you mind doing the same thing when most of the Lieutenants and all the cadets are present? The Assembly all agrees that it would be best for everyone to have a real feel of the enemy.” Brennan finishes in a tactician’s voice.

You go to open your mouth, but you’re immediately cut off. 

“NO. You can fuck right off if you think she’s going to do that again.” Garrick growls while stepping into Brennan’s space. “Did you not just see what fucking happened? And then you want to put her in a room with untrained cadets who don’t even know how to use their signets and hope someone doesn’t have a bad reaction.”

Undeterred by Garrick’s reaction, Brennan calmly responds to the threat in front of him. “I understand your reservations Garrick and hers as well, which is why Bodhi and Mira will be on hand to make sure that no one responds the same way.”

You stand from the bed you were seated on and walk up to the two men that are still looking at each other trying to calculate who is going to make the next move. Instinctually, you raise your hand and place a comforting hand on Garrick’s forearm. You can’t help but feel the tense set of his muscles and crack a soft smile to reassure the hulking man.

“Gare.” You say and his eyes immediately dart to you as you use the nickname for the first time in months. “Brennan is right. Everyone needs to see what they’re going to be facing. It’s better than sending everyone out without having any idea.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours looking for any hesitation, seeming to hope that you aren’t really considering this. Immediately his shoulders sag when he realizes that you’re serious. 

“I’ll just need some forewarning to get myself in the right headspace, so maybe not the next couple of days.” You confirm with Brennan as he shakes his head in agreement.

“You’ll wait until I’m back here.” Garrick asserts as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Brennan. “You’ll do it after I’m back from patrol. She isn’t going to do it without me being present.”

You roll your eyes at his protective demands but you’re grateful that he’ll be there, if only for a sense of safety. 

“That can work. We will do it during a battle brief class and will catch the lieutenants while they are switching patrols.” Brennan affirms while he begins to walk towards the door.

You both watch as Brennan leaves and closes the door behind him. Garrick immediately moves forward to you lifting your chin to check for any lingering bruising. 

“I’m fine.” You say quietly to try and quell the anxiety burning in his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He quips back.

“You do realize that we’re both about to be thrown into a war that most likely will take both of our lives, right?” You sass back, getting irritated with his hovering. 

“Not if I can fucking help it.” He grumbles at you. You snort and roll your eyes at the over-confident man that he’s turned into again.

“Promise me you won’t do that again, unless absolutely necessary.” The earnestness in his eyes a plea for you to listen. “I don’t want you to be a victim just because someone can’t decipher you from friend or foe.”

You sigh and let your gaze soften. “You don’t think I already know that shifting myself to look like a venin is dangerous? You can ask Brennan or Violet, but I was hesitant with them both before I did it. And what followed just proved why my theory was correct.”

“You of all people should know that I’m smarter than that. I wouldn’t shift into that form unless absolutely necessary. Brennan just asked to see why the wyvern didn’t react to my landing on its back, so I showed them.”

Realization dawning on him seems to do nothing to quell the fire in his eyes. Fire to protect and shield evident on every line of his face. You realize that no words seem to be cracking through the thick skull of the man in front of you, so you utilize your best weapon, your touch.

You bring your hands to his face, cupping each side and rubbing soothing circles on his stubbled cheeks. He takes a deep sighing breath and his gaze bores deep into you. 

“I don’t think you understand how terrified I am of the actual reality of your death.” He divulges as both of his arms snake around your waist tugging you to him. “Ever since I laid eyes on you again, I wake up every day busting through my door to search for just a glimpse of your form.”

“Having to face a reality again where you aren’t there is the absolute worst thing I can honestly imagine.” He brings his forehead to yours leaning in and breathing a deep, calming breath. 

A sad smile begins to crawl across his face. “And being so close to you, but far away at the same time is eating at me more than you know.”

You give him a sad smile back in return. “I know.” You whisper, your walls cracking even more with the tenderness and vulnerability seeping from Garrick’s every fiber.

“I need you to know that I’m working on it.” You tell him while bringing your hands down to grab his own, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles. “We aren’t there yet, but I can promise you the more you let me in, the more you show up for us, then eventually maybe we can get back to before.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours, probing for an alternate meaning. You just look back at him with the honesty you feel at his words. You’re unsure of what you’re looking for to be able to let him completely in again, but you know that you just aren’t in the right space at this moment.

__________

Taglist: @smashee0789 @batboygirlie @gayandfairycore

[angstywaifu]

Masterlist

A master list for all my writings. Mainly for Fourth Wing and our rebellion boys. But I do write for other books so make sure to check my request guidelines to see who I am currently writing for.

Requests | Support Me

Smut - 💕 Fluff - 🌸 Angst - 😡

Fourth Wing:

Incorrect Quotes

Garrick Tavis:

The Lost Sister (completed series) 💕🌸

Black Dahlia (on going series) 😡💕

Garrick Tavis Head Cannons 🌸

Just One Date 🌸

Reunited 🌸

Goodbye 😡

Means To And End - One Shot Garrick POV 😡

I Just Want To Talk To Them 😡

Happy Birthday 💕🌸

I just Want To Talk To Them Part 2 - The Reward 💕

Garrick Tavis Dad Head Cannons 🌸

Garrick Tavis Pregnant Reader Head Cannons🌸

Behave 💕

New Feelings 🌸

Is That Blood? 🌸

Wrong Advice 💕

Orders Gone Wrong 🌸😡

Threesome (w Brennan Sorrengail) 💕😡

Bodhi Durran:

Love Letters 🌸

Options 🌸

He's Watching You Again 🌸

It's Nothing 🌸

Assassination Attempt 🌸

Worst Kept Secret 🌸

Shower Masturbation 💕

Praise (Shower Masturbation Part 2) 💕

Underestimated

Courted

Ridoc Gamlyn:

Matchmaker 🌸

Xaden Riorson:

I Think I Deserve a Kiss 🌸

All Alone 🌸

Not Meant To Care 😡

Liam Mairi

Surprise🌸

Eyes On Me 💕

I'm Not Enough

Brennan Sorrengail

Can We Not 🌸

Cuddle Head Cannons 🌸

Love Doesn't Suit You 😡

Take A Chance 🌸

Secret Relationship 🌸

Forgive Me 💕

Threesome (w Garrick Tavis) 💕😡

Hidden Feelings

Dain Aetos

You Think I Wanted This 😡

Sawyer Henrick

Wrong Advice 💕

Fourth Wing Boys

Challenge Head Cannons 🌸

Crescent City

Ruhn Danaan

Shut Up. Make Me.

Shut Up. Make Me. Part 2 💕

ACOTAR

Azriel

Bondage 💕

Powerless

Kai Azer

Mirror Sex 💕

Nightares

[callsign-rogueone]

what was I made for? - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader (continuation of keep her safe) The aftermath of War Games has you questioning your purpose, and what your signet truly is. wc: 4.4k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS (I have 50 pages left, but I just can’t do it. send help.) canon-level violence, injury, canon character death, self doubt, anxiety. oops, I made Dain tolerable again. angst, then happy, then more angst. I also skipped over a smut scene / just made a reference to it happening, so if anyone wants that as a separate post, lmk and I can make it happen 👀 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on part 1! it means a lot to me 🫶

Riorson House is more your home than Basgiath ever has been, but it’s become foreign to you in the three years you’d spent at the college. It feels like you’re hallucinating as you wander the halls.

Maybe everything that’s happened in the last few days has been a hallucination -- it wouldn't be the first time Varrish or Carr had pushed you to delirium with the amount of pain you’d taken for others.

Maybe it’s a dream. That’s it. A really bad dream. Any moment now, you’re going to wake up in Garrick’s bed and get ready for morning formation, and you’ll forget the sight of Liam dying by breakfast, when you’re sitting across from him at the table like you always do. Violet’s screams of pain will stop playing in your ears, replaced by her laughter at one of Ridoc’s jokes.

But no matter how much you pinch at your skin, you aren’t waking up. This is reality.

“I hear you’re a mender, too,” someone says in a gentle voice, bringing you out of your daze. Violet’s brother, Brennan.

“Does it ever get easier?” You ask quietly. “Does it always hurt this much?”

“Mending becomes easier. Seeing that kind of stuff every day doesn’t,” he replies, and the exhausted look on his face tells you he’s being honest. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me more about that.”

“The second person I mended was a scribe who’d fallen from a ladder in the library and broken her leg. I did everything right, the bone set properly, but my leg hurt for a week, right where she’d broken hers.”

Brennan is silent, letting you continue.

“They broke Garrick’s arm in RSC. I was able to fix it for him, and I took the pain, but they broke it again two hours later. I mended him and Xaden over and over until I collapsed. I didn’t wake for two days. They both still think it was just exhausting for me. They don’t know about the pain.”

The tears are coming openly now, dripping down your cheeks, and you bring a hand up to wipe them away with the sleeve of your flight jacket. “But it isn’t all bad. I couldn’t save Liam, but I was able to make him more comfortable in the end. I took his pain away, and let him go in peace.”

You don’t tell him what death feels like. No description you could give could adequately prepare anyone for the cold sensation that still lingers in your chest. It will likely remain there for the next few days.

“Hey,” he says softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, just try to get some rest.” 

You nod quietly, looking back up at him. “Can someone please tell Garrick that I’m okay?” You ask in a small voice, folding your hands in your lap. You’d been heartbroken to realize that the rest of the squad had left for Basgiath before you woke, leaving you here alone.

You didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them, and you don’t know when you’ll see them again. Or if you’ll see them, you think, but you push the thought away quickly. They’ll survive. They have to.

Brennan cracks a smile - everyone in the rebel cause is aware of how deeply Garrick loves you. “Of course.”

———————————————————————

“Cadet Mairi died alongside his dragon, who was attacked by a drift of Gryphon riders. Cadet Avan attempted to mend them, and died trying,” Xaden says levelly, staring down the group of professors on the dais. “They both died honorable, but preventable deaths.”

Garrick knows Xaden is lying, knows you aren’t dead ��� or you hadn’t been when they left for Basgiath, at least, but his friend’s words have him on edge. Have you woken up yet? 

Chradh speaks into his mind, sending a wave of hot rage through him. “Relax.”

“Relax?” He echoes, irate. “You’re telling me to relax right now, when-”

Chradh doesn’t bother to argue with him. “She is safe under the care of the silver one’s brother, where she will remain until the moment is right. It is better this way. She won’t be in pain anymore.”

Chradh doesn’t elaborate further. Fucking dragons and their constant need to speak in riddles.

The rest of the quadrant spends the night drinking and congratulating themselves on surviving, but Garrick doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol. The three of you were supposed to do this together. It wouldn’t be right to celebrate without you.

———————————————————————

“We’re gonna start from square one, with something that can’t hurt you,” Brennan says, placing two halves of a cracked plate on the table in front of you.

It’s simple enough to make the pieces rise into the air, using the same magic required to make a pen write for you. You concentrate, willing the halves to fuse together. They touch, and you think you’ve done it, your heart leaping, only to fall as they crash back down to the table again, splitting into even more pieces.

Brennan touches one of the shards, and they glue themselves back together perfectly; no cracks, no trace of the plate ever having been broken. “That’s what I thought.”

“Let me keep trying,” you begin, heart pounding. Brennan can’t think you’re a failure, not this early.

“You could sit here with this plate all day and it wouldn’t change,” he says gently, confirming what you know deep down. “I don’t think you’re a mender. I think you’re something else entirely.”

You sit with the information for a moment.

“Signets take the form of our base need as a person,” he says. “We need to find out what that is for you.”

You already know. “I wake up every day grateful that Xaden bargained for our lives, but I have done too much harm in my time at Basgiath. The crown has done too much harm to Tyrrendor. All I’ve ever wished for is to fix that, to undo the pain.”

“To undo the pain, or to help move forward and grow?” He asks gently.

You aren’t sure.

———————————————————————

You go through your morning stretches, as always, focusing on your breath to distract from the pain in your side. 

“Your mate has returned.” Tab says, interrupting. “Thought you’d like to know.”

You bolt upright, running through the house toward the gates, bypassing Xaden to sprint straight toward Garrick.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You still fit together like puzzle pieces, even after months apart.

“You’re alive,” you breathe. “Nobody would tell me anything, I was worried sick,”

“Of course I’m alive, angel. Had to come back to you.”

You trace the Lieutenant’s patch across his collarbone, memorizing the shape. It looks natural on him, like it’s always been there. It sounds good, too. Lieutenant Garrick Tavis.

“I need to tell you something,” you say quietly, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about-“

Footsteps approach. “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Felix says, “but Avan, we need you.”

There’s something in his tone that has your heart pounding. Which of your friends is it going to be this time?

“Tell me later,” Garrick says. “Go. Do what you were made to do.”

You know he means well, but his words tie your stomach in a knot. What you were made to do. Were you truly made to endure the suffering of others?

———————————————————————

Every muscle in your body feels like it’s on fire as you slump into a chair, sitting down for the first time that day. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get some sleep before you’re needed again.

“There you are. I didn’t see you in battle brief.” Garrick says, relieved.

“Haven’t been going,” you mumble. “They need me here. Bren’s teaching now, so s’ just me and one other mender.”

He realizes no healers had come with the riot from Basgiath. You likely haven’t left the infirmary since they’d arrived.

“Come to bed,” he coaxes softly. “You need sleep. You can't pour from an empty cup.”

Yes, you can. You have been for months.

He takes your hand, not giving you a choice. You lean into him as he leads you up the grand staircase to a room near Xaden’s. Your muscles protest every step, but you keep quiet.

You haven’t been in here for years, not since you’d left for Basgiath as candidates, but it’s exactly the same as you remember; dark drapery, bookshelves, a neat display of the knives that he hadn’t taken to school with him.

The sight has you in tears.

“Whoa, hey,” he says softly, pulling you closer, and you whimper in pain at the pressure against your ribs. He lets go immediately. “Angel, I’m sorry — are you hurt?”

You sob, the dam finally breaking and grief flooding out of you. You haven’t seen each other since that horrible day, you haven’t seen anyone from the squad you went with to Resson, haven’t had anyone to talk about it with, until now. 

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t save Liam. I tried, I really did. All I could do was take his pain away.”

So Xaden had told Basgiath the truth, to some degree: you tried to fix Liam, and couldn’t. The boy’s death had hurt you badly enough that Xaden wouldn’t let you return to the school.

“There was nothing else you could do. Nobody could save him, not after Deigh…”

“I know that, but it wasn’t just him. Everyone I’ve ever… fixed, I’ve taken the pain from their body into mine, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”

Garrick’s heart breaks. So that’s what Chradh meant when he said you wouldn’t be in pain anymore if you left Basgiath. Those eight-hour days of mending infantry may as well have been torture for you. 

Torture. RSC. You’d healed his wounds, Xaden’s, Bodhi’s, Violet’s, time and time again without complaint, and he knew it took a lot out of you, but not that it hurt. “Angel, why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known…”

“I wanted to,” you sniffle, “I wanted to tell you a year ago when it started happening. I thought it was normal, that I was just weak, until Brennan told me that this doesn’t happen to him. He just gets tired, like everyone else does when they use their signets too much.”

You try to steady your breathing, but the pain in your not-broken ribs is too overwhelming. “I’ve spent hours practicing and I can’t even fix a broken plate. I’m not a mender. I don’t know what I am. Nobody does, not even the professors. Brennan thinks it’s getting better, but I don’t have it in me to tell him that it isn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He wants to pull you into an embrace, wants to stroke your hair and tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.

“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.

“But it’s not yours, either,” he reminds you gently. “You’re so strong, angel. You crossed the parapet, ran the gauntlet, you bonded a dragon, and you’ve endured everything else. Please don’t ever think for a second that you’re weak.”

He takes your hand in his, watching your face carefully, but you don’t wince at the touch. “We’ll talk to Brennan tomorrow, together. For now, I just want you to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod silently, having run out of tears.

“Attagirl.”

As you settle into bed next to him, freshly showered and wearing one of his warm sweaters, you swear the pain has dimmed.

———————————————————————

When Garrick takes you to see Brennan the next morning, he isn’t alone. Your professors are seated beside him, along with some of the Tyrrish elders.

Devera speaks first. “We owe you an apology, Cadet Avan. The faculty was unaware that Carr and Varrish were using your signet as a method of punishment, or that it pains you to use it.”

“And I owe you an apology,” you say quietly. “I should have come back after the War Games.”

“That was my decision,” Xaden says firmly, “and I stand by it. She was in no condition to return to the school, much less to graduate and be stationed at an outpost across the continent from her support system, while still feeling the coldness of Cadet Mairi’s death.”

How does he know that you could feel it? Had you told him in your delirium? Had Brennan told him? Had you even told Brennan? 

“Your friends have effectively plead your case, and we agree that you have satisfied all the requirements for graduation from the Rider’s Quadrant.” Emeterrio says. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

Garrick slips your flight jacket onto your shoulders, and you notice the Lieutenant insignia has already been sewn on, to match his. When did he…? 

You accept the handshake Devera offers you, still a little dazed, but there’s one more order of business to address.

“May I rejoin my old squad?” You ask the table of professors quietly. “They are family to me. I would like to ride with them again, and aid them however I can.”

They exchange hesitant looks, and your heart sinks. Do they not think you’re good enough?

“I don’t see why not,” Brennan says firmly enough for everyone else to agree — he outranks the professors with the years he’s been part of the movement.

You exhale in relief.

Garrick cheers. “The dream team is back, baby!” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, knowing you’re still in pain, but wanting to hold you close.

You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.

Xaden is unimpressed. “When have we ever once called ourselves the dream team?”

“We haven’t, but I’m starting now. It’ll stick. I’ll have it embroidered on your flight jacket, Xay.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Xaden replies, setting off a brotherly argument behind you.

You look to the leadership once more, bowing your head in respect. “Thank you. For everything.”

Devera gives you a warm smile. “I am glad to see you have found your place here, Lieutenant. Remember that your empathy is a gift, even in times of war.”

Empathy.

“Am I dismissed?” You ask.

“Yes, Lieutenants, you are all dismissed,” Emeterrio answers dryly, looking over your shoulder at Garrick and Xaden. The latter has the former in a playful headlock, messing up his hair. 

“Human boys,” Tab says, exasperated. You laugh in agreement, leaving them in the Assembly room to sort themselves out.

It’s easy enough to find who you’re looking for — he’s the only person sitting completely alone in the mess, a textbook open in front of him that he isn’t reading. He’s gazing into the distance, eyes unfocused, but he looks up when he realizes you’re standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “about what I saw in Varrish’s office. I had no idea how much you all have endured. What we are taught in Navarre is only one side of the story, but you showed me the other.”

“I’m glad I could help change your mind.”

He reaches into the pocket of his flight jacket and extends a hand. Your protection rune sits in his palm, complete with a new leather cord. “A peace offering. I stole it back from Varrish, and Brennan mended it.”

You smile, taking it from him and slipping it back over your head. “You’re turning into quite the rule-breaker, Aetos. But thank you. It means a lot to me.”

You’re about to leave, but something compels you to impart a piece of advice. “I know how it feels when people don’t want to trust you because of your family history. It’ll take a while for some of them to warm up to you, but you can make it go a lot faster if you keep yourself out of trouble.”

———————————————————————

Your first flight back with your squad is supposed to be easy, a surveying flight with a small riot, just to check their perimeters, but you can’t seem to quell your anxiety as you take off.

“We will be fine, gentle one. We’re in strong company,” Tab reassures. He stays close to Chradh, knowing Garrick’s proximity will calm you. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Good. I’ve missed this.”

“You have always enjoyed being up this high,” he agrees. “Shall we review some of our basic maneuvers?”

“Sure.”  Maybe that will settle your nerves.

“Hold on.” Tab dips, practicing all the angles — banking right, left, up, down.

“Something is wrong,” you blurt, and Tab straightens his path immediately, falling back into the formation. Every nerve in your body pulses with a sensation you’ve never felt before, standing on end. “Something really bad is going to happen.”

You’re right.

“Wyvern,” Tab warns just as they come into your line of sight. They charge straight at the front of the riot, where Sgaeyl leads the pack. 

You’re outmatched, nearly two dozen of them and only ten of you. You’re going to die here. At least you’ll be with your best friends.

“That kind of thinking isn’t helpful!” Tab scolds, tightening the formation. 

One gets too close for comfort, spewing blue flame, and Chradh banks hard - too hard. You gasp in horror as Garrick is thrown from his seat down to the ground below.

“Dive!” You yell, and Tab follows without hesitation, making a near-vertical drop.

You’ve never been so grateful for the running landing they’d taught you last year. It had been excruciating to execute on top of the pain of unbroken bones, but it’s just manageable now after a few days off from the infirmary.

Clutching Failsafe for dear life, your only defense, you sprint toward Garrick’s limp body, ripping off your goggles.

His heart still beats, but multiple bones look broken, his breathing labored. Touching him is almost unbearable, which tells you he won’t last much longer if you don’t do something.

Deep breaths, like Brennan had taught you, to accept their pain as it entered your body, holding it before batting it away like a fly.

You still haven’t figured out how to make that work.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you start to berate yourself; Why can’t you do this? Compose yourself. Garrick is going to die if you can’t pull it together. Garrick is going to die, just like Liam did, because you aren’t strong enough to fix a fucking plate.

Anger overcomes you for the first time since you’d watched your parents die six years ago. You scream, a sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before splitting the air. The pain dissipates almost instantly. For the first time in two years, your body isn’t aching, and you sob in relief.

Garrick bolts upright, gasping for breath as spring blooms across the snowy plain, trees with bare branches suddenly teeming with green leaves.

Tab roars in pride and the rest of the riot joins in, the cliffs shaking from the volume of their celebration. 

“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind. 

Your head snaps upward, and you realize that the ground is littered with motionless wyvern.

Garrick pulls you to your feet, brushing the tears from your cheeks. “Come on, angel,” he says, grinning, “we have a war to win.”

You’re still dazed as Tab brings you back to Riorson house, Garrick helping you dismount and leading you inside.

“We have a weapon,” Xaden says, actually smiling as he faces the assembly. “Something, someone, that can destroy wyvern in their tracks.”

Garrick keeps you glued to his side as Xaden tells the elders what happened, but it’s all in one ear, out the other.

You’re dismissed after a few minutes, heading back out to the mess, where your friends gather around one of the large tables in the library.

“Tab called me lifebringer,” you say, confused. “What is that?”

“I thought it was just folklore,” Violet says from a few rows down, scanning the shelves, and everyone turns to her, listening. “Lifebringers are said to influence healing and growth. In some cultures, they’ve been credited with ending famines by rejuvenating harvests, and saving the innocent from the grasp of Malek and his Death.”

“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.

“Aha.” Violet produces a thin volume, cracking it open to the right page. The illustration there looks uncannily like you.

“Only the purest of heart can be lifebringers, those who hold no malice toward their fellow man. The weapons they carry are sharp, but unused,” she reads aloud. “Garrick gave you Failsafe as just that — a failsafe. You never drew blood with it. You never hurt anyone except in challenges, when it was kill or be killed, and even then you held back.”

Bodhi speaks next. “With most signets, the stronger the wielder’s emotion, the more powerful the ability becomes. You feel empathy for the wounded, so you can fix them and ease their pain, but when you thought Garrick was going to die, that was another level of distress, and I guess it was enough to overcome the dark magic.” 

Garrick squeezes your shoulder in reassurance that he’s still very much alive beside you.

Violet closes the book, setting it down.

“I’m not in pain anymore,” you whisper, still dazed. You’ve almost forgotten what that feels like, having spent the last three years holding both your own and that of all your friends.

“You needed an outlet,” Xaden says. “Pain makes it harder to channel, and you were in pain 24/7, which is why the professors thought your signet was underdeveloped. Getting angry, and getting that energy out of your body allowed you to use the full extent of your power.”

“If I had known this earlier, do you think I could have…” you don’t finish the sentence. Everyone in this room knows how hard you’d tried to save Liam.

“Maybe,” Violet says quietly, “but that is not a path you want to go down. Trust me.”

———————————————————————

“Do you want to explain why the hallway was full of sunflowers when I went to bed last night?” Xaden asks slyly, dropping into a seat in front of you with a plate of eggs and bacon.

You burn with embarrassment.

Bodhi grins. “You see, cousin, when a man and a woman love each other very much, - ow, fuck!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head where Garrick had whacked him.

“At least they didn’t set the vale on fire,” another of your squadmates says, looking at Xaden and Violet pointedly. “You still owe me for putting that out, by the way.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. “So all that dry lightning last year was you two…”

“Okay, changing the subject!” Brennan says loudly, not liking the way this conversation is headed. “We need to figure out how to use your signet without endangering Tavis’s life again.”

“Well, it sounds like they already found another way,” Ridoc says, grinning, but he squeaks out an apology as Garrick begins to rise from his chair.

You tug your boyfriend back into his seat by the sleeve, looking past him at Brennan. “I think I need to work a few days in the infirmary between flights,” you propose. “If I build up enough pain, I could probably-“

“NO,” the whole squad says at once, Tab included.

“Your healing is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Xaden orders, and even though you’re on equal footing now, both newly-minted Lieutenants, you agree quietly without protest.

“See, that’s your problem,” Sloane says, and all eyes turn to her. “You defer to literally everyone. You’re an officer now. Act like it.”

“Pardon?” You ask, looking at her in disbelief.

“That’s exactly what she’s talking about,” Imogen cuts in. “Pardon? You can’t even discipline a first-year cadet. Do you really think any veteran rider will ever listen to what you have to say?”

“Enough,” you say firmly, your nails digging into the wood.

None of your friends intervene, not even Brennan. This has to be another nightmare. There’s no way they'd hang you out to dry like this. Right?

Sloane isn’t finished. “It’s a miracle you made it out of Basgiath alive. You’re too soft. If you won’t kill anyone, what are you going to do when it’s between your life or someone else’s? Their life or his?”

The mention of Garrick is your last straw. “That is enough from both of you, Cadets,” you reprimand. Thorny vines burst from the seams of the table, whipping out toward them, and they stagger back to avoid being cut.

You startle, your heart pounding against your ribs as you realize what you’ve done.

Sloane is the first to apologize. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that provoking you might…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, looking down at the still-twitching vines covering the tabletop.

“We definitely took it too far,” Imogen adds, sounding genuinely remorseful. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

Bodhi waves a hand, and the vines slither back into the table, as if they were never there. 

Your eyes widen at the blood on his cheeks — he’d been caught in the crossfire. You touch his face with a shaky hand, only brushing your fingertips across the skin, and the scratches disappear instantly, leaving no trace of the harm you’d done.

Somehow that makes you feel worse.

“Well,” Garrick says in his section-leader voice, “that was certainly informative, but none of you are to ever disrespect her like that again. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” both girls answer quietly, heads lowered in shame.

Your breathing has steadied enough to speak. “I understand why you did that, but I’m not going to tell you that it was okay, because it wasn’t.”

With that, you take your plate and leave. Nobody follows you.

———————————————————————

The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.

“I want to be alone, Gare,” you say quietly. 

“Not Garrick,” Xaden replies, settling down next to you on the stone floor, “and you may want to be alone right now, but you probably shouldn’t be.”

“I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Xay. You know that,” you whisper. You don’t move your gaze from the potted plant in front of you, as if you’re worried it will lash out at you — or him — if you turn away.

“I know, angel. I know.” He exhales deeply, a gentle cloud forming with the warmth of his breath. 

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again, just the sound of the cold wind over the valley and the distant footsteps of cadets running on the trail below. “Working through this is not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You’ve come to hate that notion, everyone’s insistence that the pain you’ve been through has primed you for more pain, different pain. Why can’t it ever end?

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

Part 2 is here! :) Here you can read part 1.

Just a little angst before we get to the good stuff.

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony, of turmoil and regret and anger - so much anger. I’m the only third year left. I’m expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. I can’t help but seek comfort from Rathnait, my only anchor since the moment we left Basgiath. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. Graduation day. I would be assigned to my outpost today, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Bagaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my way towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” He grins at me, almost maniacally as if the post is a joke. Rathanit snarls in my mind, rage igniting the very blood in my veins but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement. 

Where are you, Ray? My hands tremble, crushing the papers beneath my hold as I make my way quickly towards my room. 

I’ll be there soon, flare. Unless you need me now? 

I halt in the middle of the empty hall, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone. 

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. 

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. I wouldn’t see Garrick. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation,” I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Bagaith are under a different impression as to what it is. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and questing it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” I question him, dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathanit’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment,” I murmur, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. I didn’t bother to look at my squad, not being able to look at their questioning looks. I was known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. “Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own.

[tearsaura]

Holding the enemy in my arms // Garrick Tavis x reader

A/N: Based on this request. I hope you like it. I didn't want to take to long on getting this out

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Iron Flame spoilers, angst, death

Picture is from pinterest: kateslibb

Garrick Tavis has cried twice in his life.

~Basgiath War College, 12 hours ago~

He quickly found her in an abandoned hall, grabbed her by the shoulder, his arm pressing her by the neck to the wall behind them and holding a dagger to her throat with the other.

‘How could you do this?’ Garrick had never shed a tear in front of anyone else before. He hadn't even cried at his parents’ execution, not wanting to give Generals the satisfaction. But right now? Pressing her to the wall, the women whom he loved so dearly, who he had pictured a life with? Getting married, having kids, and living at each other’s side? She looked so much like the y/n he knew, if it wasn't for the bloodshed eyes, she looked just like the girl he fell in love with.

‘You wouldn't understand.’ she gasped, her hands grabbing desperately at his arm. ‘Try me. You had me thinking you were dead. You had your Dragon thinking that you were dead, your friends! Was it worth betraying all of us? Ruining what we had? Answer!’ he shouted. The next moment, his back hit the opposite wall, knocking the air out of his lung and she had disappeared.

~Basgiath War Collage, 6 Months ago~

‘Gods your stance is terrible how did you survive your first year?’ Garrick laughed as he watched her take position. ‘I survived just fine.’ she grinned at him. ‘Well, this won’t last you for long let me show you How you're supposed to do it.’ he said, standing behind her and repositioning her arms. ‘Why Thank you, section leader. Or shall I start calling you Lieutenant?’ ‘Stop teasing, concentrate.’ He tsked, pressing a quick kiss on her temple. ‘Thank you for helping me.’ she whispered in that gentle tone of hers, making Garrick weak in the knees. ‘Of course, my love. You don't have to thank me I am doing this for selfish reasons: I need you to survive what's coming.’ he said, unaware that he was, in fact, holding the enemy in his arms.

‘Can't you be stationed here? I'll miss you.’ she complained. ‘I wish I could stay with you, my love. But you know I can't. I'll write to you all the time I promise. Maybe we'll be able to smuggle out occasionally when Xaden comes to visit.’ ‘Or we could get our dragons to fall for each other and become mates? Then we'd be able to visit each other to! We still have time-‘ ‘I appreciate your effort, but you know this doesn't work that way.’ he replied and Y/N turned around in his arms, putting hers around his neck. ‘Just promise me we'll figure this out.’ she whispered, looking at him through her lashes. ‘We will. I promise.’ he whispered back and interlocked his lips with hers.

~Riorson House, Aretia, four months ago~

Garrick ran through the corridors of the Riorson house, frantically searching for her y/h/c standing out in the massive groups of cadets that stood around all the place, with no success. His frantic search came to a halt when he spotted her friends. She'd have to be here. There was no way she wouldn't have come. Was she okay? Did she survive?

With big steps he approached them, his heart falling when he saw she wasn't among them. ‘Violet? Have you seen y/n?’ he asked the younger Girl, who just shook her head, the worry in her eyes matching Garrick’s. ‘No, I- I'm sorry we didn't see her. She was nowhere to be found.’ she replied. ‘We searched all over.’ If his heart hadn't given out before, it sure did when he heard those words.

Samara is here Chardh echoed in his head and Garrick made haste to get outside, up to where the Dragons stood. Chardh stood next to Samara, whom had her head low to the ground. She cannot get to her.

~Basgiath War Collage, 13 hours ago~

‘According to Barlowes Memories, he planted lures all over the college and up the path to the vale.’ Aetos started explaining. ‘How could he have done it by himself?’ Someone chimed in. ‘He didn't.’ Dain began, hesitating. ‘Which leads me to the next point: He- he had help from Y/L/N. I don't know for how long she has been turned into a venin or where she is right now. We presumed her for dead. I saw where Barlowe put most of the lure boxes but not all of them. And we can't figure out where Y/L/N has put them without finding her...’

Garrick blended the rest of it out. He suddenly felt dizzy, his vision turning black, and his hands started shaking. That couldn't be. She'd never do that. ‘Garrick?’ he turned to his best friend, who looked at him with his usual expressionless stare. Bodhi on the other hand had it written all over his face how sorry he felt.

He ignored their stares, tracking back all the times he shared with her. Was she a venin when he first told her that he loved her, when he helped her train, when they shared their first kiss together? Or was she turned when half of the college left for Aretia? Or was that the reason why she hadn't come at all? How come no one ever noticed her eyes where red? Once the briefing was over, he was the first who left the room, beginning his hunt.

~Basgiath War College, Present~

Garrick shook his head, focusing on the task at his hands, his mission clear: buy time, to get the wards back up. There were a dozen wyvern flying directly towards him and Chradh. There were no other Cadets or Riders near him: leaving him at a clear disadvantage. He threw a dagger towards the first venin, missing the target by mere inches, the metal falling.

‘You should forfeit Rider. Maybe then we will spare your life.’ they said, a disturbing grin spreading across their face. Chradh continued to breath fire, without no luck, and attacked the wyvern at its neck. Just as Garrick stood up on Cradh's back, ready to start another attack. Before he could do anything, a dagger came flying, piercing the Venins, falling off. In mere seconds, the other Venins followed. The Lieutenant turned his head to see the source of the flying dagger, his eyes widening. ‘Are you okay?’ y/n asked, flying closer to him. Chardh growled, ready to attack her but Garrick quickly interfered.

End her. She betrayed you. She betrayed Samara. She betrayed all of us. She will be our downfall.

‘How is it possible that Samara assumed you were dead?’ ‘You clearly don't know enough about Venins. My magic helped me build shields strong enough that she could've never find or get to me.’ ‘Why did you kill them?’ ‘Really? You want to discuss this now? I will explain to you everything once we're done.’ she stated to him and turned then to Chardh.  ‘The lure boxes I put out are very weak but all near the hall.’ And with that, she left them, closely missing the weapon one of the venin had throwed at her.

Garrick couldn't keep the grin off his face. She is helping them. She is fighting against her own to help them. He was overwhelmed with a new burst of energy and ready to take on the venin that came flying directly towards him. He didn't see the other one coming, one hand raised and pulling on of the daggers from Garrick towards him, then aiming it at Garrick. Before he could retrieve another dagger, a dark figure passed by him, taking the dagger at the chest, and plummeting to the ground. Garrick only saw the familiar y/h/c hair, and sped down after her, his heart falling even deeper.

Once Chardh caught up with her, he grabed her carefully by her body and lowered them to the ground, putting her down as gently as possible. Garrick quickly got off, sliding to the girl, grabbing her by the upper body, positioning her head on his lap. She was still breathing, and Garrick held his hand on her chest, desperately trying to put pressure on her wound, tears streaming down his face.

‘How could you do that? We could've gotten you back.’ ‘This is war. I had to do what had to be done. There's no cure.’ she replied. Her breath becoming shallower with every second. The other venins layed around, all dead. They must've raised the wards.

Call for Brennan! Call for Brennan!!

On it.

‘You'll get over me. I promise you. You'll meet someone that doesn't cause you the pain I caused. They're going to make you happy. I promise you'll be fine.’ y/n said, cradling his cheek with a shaking hand giving him a smile. Garrick shook his head violently. ‘You can't cry over me. I am not worth crying over.’ ‘Noone is going to make me happier than you did. I love you and I don't take anything you have done for granted. I could never. None of us do. You can't leave me now that I have you back, please I love you.’ ‘I will watch over you, I promise. I love you too.’ she said, her eyes going blank, as she took her final breath.

As the Cadets and Riders were celebrating inside, there was no sound to be heard outside, other than Garrick’s painful roar, triggering the same one from Chradh.

[ervotica]

doing a lil celebration for 3k! nothing official, just asking for blurb requests for characters from these fandoms:

fourth wing, twilight, acotar, outer banks, call of duty, the walking dead, stranger things, the maze runner, harry potter

— preferred characters -> liam mairi, garrick tavis, paul lahote, jasper hale, eris vanserra, rhysand, rafe cameron, jj maybank, captain john price, simon “ghost” riley, johnny “soap” mactavish, könig, glenn rhee, daryl dixon, steve harrington, gally, theodore nott

— preferred genres -> WHUMP, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, smut, heavy heavy fluff

can be from my prompt lists or your own request!

tagging some mutuals for reach (please rb if you can!); @wroteclassicaly @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eve175 @rafescurtainbangz @rafescokenostril @theostrophywife @tacticalprincess @thehighladywrites @hotchfiles @jjsmarijuana @kissitbttr @lovelyghst @littlemisstrouble @callsign-rogueone @venuslore @void-my-warranty @vampieteeth @vermithorn @nocasdatsgay @mockerycrow @murdrdocs @shellxrls @targaryenvampireslayer @taintedcigs @princessmaybank @prythianpages @babygorewhore @serpentandlily @sociorafe @proactivetypaperson @morwap @cinnamoncunt @daycourtofficial @azsazz @anqeliclust @tsunami-of-tears @plainemmanem

[anothermarkedone]

Empyrean masterlist

I don't see many Garrick, Bodhi, Ridoc, Sawyer, Rhiannon and Imogen fics, so I've decided to make my own!

IMPORTANT NOTE! Don't expect many fast posts, I'm currently focusing on my mental health and I'm also busy writing for the Avatar movies (with the blue people, not the elements lol) If you're into Avatar, follow my Avatar acc @avatarrecom!

Requests are open!

Who I write for:

Garrick Tavis.

Bodhi Durran.

Rhiannon Matthias.

Imogen Cardulo.

Ridoc Gamlyn.

Sawyer.

Brennan Sorrengail.

You can request poly fics with them or with another character (as long as one of the characters above are involved)

Key: Smut: 🔥 Suggestive: ❤️‍🔥 Fluff: 💗 Angst: ☔️ Humor: 💩

- Other

I'm too old to get adopted, right? (Fourth Wing & ACOTAR crossover)💩

- Poly fics

Nothing yet!

- Garrick

Nothing yet!

- Bodhi

Nothing yet!

- Rhiannon

Nothing yet!

- Imogen

Nothing yet!

- Ridoc

Fourth Wing Pranksters ❤️‍🔥 💩

- Sawyer

Nothing yet!

- Brennan

Nothing yet!

[garricks4thwingqueen]

Our Time X Xaden X reader

Synopsis: Female Healer reader X Xaden Riorson. Set during Xaden’s second year at Basgiath and beyond.. 

Trigger warnings: Swearing, nsfw with consent implied ( Xad would never do anything you weren't comfortable with.), break up, angst, crying, fluff                                          

Word Count: 3267

This is also on a03 as part of the rider's quadrant gift exchange.

Can be found here

 Xaden’s POV

    “Jesus Bodhi, did almost two years away from us make you that fucking weak?” I asked my cousin and extended my hand to help him up. Garrick snickered as Bodhi mumbled something that sounded like Fuck Off. “Well my friend at least you can use Bodhi as an excuse to see Y/N two days in a row.” Garrick was now chuckling. “Oh shut the fuck up Tavis.” “Whose Y/N.” Imogen asked, her face scrunched in annoyance and curiosity. “A healer our boy is crushing hard on. Too bad he is entangled with Kitty Cat.” “Would you shut up Tavis? I don't need to be reminded I'm arranged to marry the bitch from hell. Let’s get you checked out just in case Durran.” I slung an arm around Bodhi’s waist to help steady him on the way to the infirmary. 

                                                     Healer Y/N POV

    You had just barely tidy up your workstation after helping a shy brown curly haired first year rider sling up his arm as you saw a shadow slink around the corner of your work area. “What is it today?” “Oh who is this?” You asked curiously as Xaden helped the younger boy onto the cot. You took in his features and noticed he was almost exactly identical to Xaden himself, but he had never mentioned any brothers. “This is my cousin Bodhi. He took a stumble during a spare and knocked his head off the wall with a pretty loud smack. “ I smirked, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “Bodhi this is Y/N. Only healer in this place I’ll trust apart from Nolan.” You couldn’t help but hide a blush as you checked the back of the younger boy's head. You worked in silence as you assessed Bodhi asking a few questions here and there. You couldn’t help but let certain thoughts about the older cousin run through your head. You both knew the other felt a little something towards the other one of you, but it was never anything serious. 

            You let your mind wander to the first time last year when Xaden had first felt the effects of his newly bonded dragon and her mate’s sexual activity. He had come to you of course. Both of you had talked through the awkwardness. You had given him almost every anxiety healing balm to help ease what you both thought would work, but they didn’t even lessen what was raging through him. You had felt bad for him. Both of you had talked out possibilities of things that could work but nothing did. Then you had the suggestion of doing it yourselves. You were scared to ask it, scared of being rejected even though you were just friends. You suggested it anyway and Xaden was content on trying anything. He had tossed upwards around your workstation to allow you both as much privacy as possible. Even though his dragons had stopped before you both had the chance to get started that first time, you were both looking at each with pleas of consent to continue anyway. It was then you realized Xaden Riorson was truly perfect and you hated it, that you couldn’t have him. You wanted him, truly wanted him after that. To be the one to take care of him sexually and emotionally, but you knew it wouldn’t happen. It still hadn’t happened of coursJulynot with the arranged marriage still lingering in the air. The arranged marriage you knew he didn’t want.  

  “Your fine Bodhi. Small bump on the back of your head but just take it a little easy as you ease into your first year for about a week just to make sure.” “Thank you.” Bodhi said shyly. You waved your hand dismissing him, “Don’t mention it, How’s that tailbone of yours Riorson?” You smirked as the younger boy bursted out into a fit of laughter clearly amused by your question. “So that's why you and Garrick were here yesterday, oh that’s classic. Care to enlighten me on how it happened.” You now snickered along with the boy clearly not sure how someone like Xaden was even that clumsy. “It’s fine, sore but fine.” I smirked; “Need a fresh application of healing balm?” He sighed as his shadows placed the vile in my hand. “Wouldn’t hurt. I’ll catch up with you later, Durran.” “Awee I can’t stay?” He snickered. “Out.” Xaden ordered. “We aren’t done with how you hurt your ass.” Bodhi chimed as he left. You couldn't help but snicker at the cousin's attempt to get the story of his cousin's injury; but you knew that only you, Garrick and Xaden himself would truly know what happened to Xaden’s ass. 

                “So that’s the infamous cousin Bodhi hugh?” Xaden grinned in reply as he laid on your table ass up. “That would be bodhi.” “Jesus Xad that’s bruised pretty damn well. Wish you could see your own ass.” You giggled, Xaden huffed in annoyance but let you apply the salve just above his tailbone. “You know I have to say this is a first Riorson, not many riders or infantry for that matter come in with bruised asses.” Xaden chuckled softly and that was a sound that you had loved from the first time you heard it a year ago. “Glad to be your first.” “There you are all done.” You said and patted his ass cheek indicating for him to stand up.   

                                                       Xaden’s POV

    I  stood and pulled my leather pants back on. I sat back onto the edge of the bed and pulled Y/N in between my legs. “Xaden.” She giggled and then quickly covered her mouth probably in worry that she was being too loud for the sound to carry over. I chuckled at her sudden movement. God it felt good having her this close to me, we’d never had done anything more then I guess you’d call it a friends with benefits relationship. It didn’t take us long to realize that the best for when Sgaeyl fucked her mate that fucking someone was the best release for me as well after we tried every healing antidote she could think of. But God I wanted more. The codex for the healer’s was slightly different from that of other quadrants. Our fucking alone broke that codex for her. Healers had a strict no dating other quadrant members until after graduation except maybe the scribes because they rarely got hurt. I ran my fingers through your hair which had made you lightly shudder. I buried my head into your shoulder and took in your scent which smelled of warm Vanilla and Honey.  “Xaden.” You breathed. “We can’t.” “I know.’ I sighed, wrapping my arms around your waist; “But you don’t know how badly I want to.” “I know, gods I know Xaden.” She breathed softly into my shoulder. I lifted your chin up and caressed your cheek. “Then who cares? You're the top healer of your year. What are they going to do? Make you become a scribe?” God boy, you're whipped.  Sgaeyl snickered in my mind:  I wouldn’t be like this in the first place if it wasn’t for you and your mate.  I snapped back and slammed my mental shield blocking Sgaeyl for this moment.  “Kiss me Xaden.” You breathed softly against my lips; I didn’t waste a second at your request as my slightly ruffer lips meet your soft lips. Our bodies were pressed together as our tongues meet in unison. Our breathing got heavier as I could taste the sweet taste of your breathe. 

  “Xaden.” You breathed against my lips several minutes later. “Hmmm.” I hummed in content that was our most sensual and intimate encounter that wasn’t just sex and god I craved more. Wanted more. “That was, that was everything I wished it would be and more.” I chuckled softly at your words; “Mianach.” I whispered softly. 

                                                      Y/N POV

   You gave Xaden a puzzling look as you heard him use a language you hadn’t heard him use before but had assumed was old Tyrrish. “Tyrrish?” You asked still in his arms. Xaden hummed before replying with “Mine. It means mine.” “Yours. I’m yours.” You answered his words as he replied with another old Tyrrish phrase “ Mo ghràdh.” “And that means?” “My love.” He said softly, it was probably the softest you had ever heard the boy speak. “Hunt.” You heard the head healer yell from somewhere back in the main part of the quadrant. “Fuck.” I cursed as Xaden. “You need to leave.” I said teasingly “He's probably going to yell at us for you being back here for too long.” Xaden chuckled as you nudged his shoulder; “Meet in our spot later tonight at curfew, my love.” “I’ll see you later Xad.”  You watched as Xaden walked back to the entrance of the healer quadrant. Your best friend came around your curtain squealing; “I knew it!!” Leigh said excitedly. “Sssssh.” You warned her and put a finger on her lip. “Voice, quiet, you know.” You said, shaking your head. “What can't I be happy for my best friend?” “You can but Jesus keep it down.” You scolded her. “How’s his ass? Anddd Who was that younger version of him??” “Calm down first of all. Secondly his ass is bruised but fine. Thirdly that was his younger cousin Bodhi Durran.” “Ohhh a cousin?” Leigh smirked. “You're relentless.” “Hunt! Lane! Back to work!” We both chuckled as we went to get new patients which were more than likely always riders. 

                                          Conscription Day 633 AU 

    You had been dating Xaden for almost a year now and you couldn’t believe how perfect your relationship with Xaden was. “Can you believe we made it to our third year?” Leigh asked excitedly; pulling you out of your thoughts. “It’s not like we are riders Leigh, of course we made it.” “Speaking of riders, someone's rider has a fancy ass title this year.” You giggled softly as she mentioned Xaden’s new role of being wingleader. “Yeah he does.” You sighed  nonchalantly. “Hey you ok?” Leigh said more seriously as you shrugged “I don’t know, something just feels different about this year like everything isn’t going to be the same at the end.” “You and your weird feelings.” “Yeah me and my weird feelings.” You waved her off putting your last jar of healing salve on the shelf and finished picking up  your station for the day.  “You and Bodhi have become the hot ticket item as well; Little Miss I’m never going to do anything to break the codex.” You snickered and yelped as you felt a playfully pinch on both of your sides. “Xaden.” You said playfully. “I’ll see you two love birds around.” Leigh mused happily walking away. “Hey my beautiful.” He hummed happily but you knew him well enough that something was bothering him. 

   “What’s the matter?” You asked softly, running your fingers through his thick black hair. “Does something have to be wrong for me to see my sexy ass healer girlfriend after a long day?”  “No but I know you well enough to know that something is bothering you when you use that tone of voice.” 

     He sighed knowing you were right and wasn't going to be able to hide this from you. “It’s just one of the new cadets this year.” “Just one?” You asked. He hummed burying his head into your shoulder; “Who is it?” “Sorrengial, Violet Sorrengial.” He breathed into your shoulder as you lifted his chin up; “As in General Sorrengial’s youngest? I thought she was destined for the scribes?” “So did we. I can’t tell if she’s here on her own or was forced here by her mother just to spy on us.” You knew what he meant by us; “Just be careful. That’s all you can do, love.” You said and kissed his lips softly as he hummed at your touch. “I love you. Have I mentioned that lately?” You giggled softly “I love you to Riorson and just a few times.” You hummed. “Come on, let's take a walk and get you some fresh after today.” Xaden hummed and wrapped his arm around your waist which you would normally object to but you knew you were the last one to leave the healers quadrant today.” 

                                            Three Weeks After threshing 633 AU 

  You tried to sleep just like you had tried to sleep every night after threshing this year for the riders. It shouldn’t have had an impact on you this year but it did. It was one that now had you questioning your’s and Xaden’s relationship; you hated that you were even in a position like this.  But Sgaeyl’s mate Tairn had bonded to one of the new riders this year. That rider was Violet Sorrengail of all fucking riders. The one rider that was the daughter of the General was the same general that had hurt Xaden 107 times in the past with whip. 

     You knew what a mated dragon connection meet between bonded riders. Xaden was now connected to this girl till death do them apart both by dragon and mind. You knew he still loved you even though we were beginning to distance yourself from you as your mind raced and fought with you to determine the fate of your relationship with Xaden. You loved him still dearly, but what was going to happen the first time their dragons fucked without shields? What would happen from stopping Xaden from falling in love with his enemy. 

                                             Winter Solstice 633 AU

  Two full months had passed and you had barely made an effort to see Xaden outside of him bringing cadets to you that needed healing or if he did himself. You hadn’t officially broken up but your heart was broken for when the blow did come and you were just innocently preparing for yourself. You were picking up your station for the day as you heard footsteps round the corner and your curtain ruffled. “Closed.” You mused out as Garrick Tavis plopped on your bed, blood running down his cheek. “Garrick what?” You said and rushed to grab a cloth; turning the sink on and getting wet with warm water and placing the cloth on his cheek. “Xaden.” He hissed at the contact of the cloth on his cheek. “Xaden?” He cringed as you continued your work and had a look on his face as if he was choosing his next words carefully. You continued working on his cheek. “It’s just he doesn’t understand why you’ve been distant he doesnt get this whole thing with Sorrengial is fucked up.’ He sighed with a thank you as you finished stitching his cheek. “How is he?” “A wreck to put it at best. He is fighting with the situation as much as you are.”  You nod as you finish picking up your counter and tidying your shelves. “I just I, I don’t know.” You sighed sitting next to Garrick not really having the chance to talk about this situation with anyone as Leigh didn’t really grasp the full turmoil of the issue.

  “I know, I know.” Garrick said placing a soft hand on your back. “Whatever you decide I’ll support you and be there for you.” He said softly and you could have sworn you saw a hint of sparkle in his hazel eyes. “It’s not that I don’t love him. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. It’s-” Garrick nodded in understanding as you continued. “It;s the whole mated dragon thing and her of all people! I mean he should want to fucking kill her! I know the effect of when those two dragons fuck Garrick.” He sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist; “I know you do and I know how much you two care about each other and I know whatever you decide will only be whatever you feel right for your relationship. But you do need to talk to him eventually.” You sighed knowing he was right and you knew what your heart wanted. You were ready even if your heart wasn't. “Do you know where he is?”  Garrick nodded, offering you his hand as you both stood; “Follow me.” 

     “That’s strange.” You said walking outside and seeing a strike of lightning. Garrick nodded next to you with a verbal “Yeah.” As he leads you in the direction of Xaden;s room. “It’s the middle of December their shouldn’t be any lightning.”  

        Garrick went to put his hand on Xaden’s door knob; “Shouldn;t you knock?” “Nah.” He said opening the door as we were both blinded, more like traumatized by the sight before us. “What the fuck?” Xaden cursed. “I could say the same damned bloody thing to you Riorson. I finally come to talk to you about this and you’re fucking it!” You yelled storming out and walking too well you didn’t know where as you heard him yelling after you probably struggling to find his clothes. 

      You don't know why but you ended up in the alcove where you and Xaden had put in many memories for each other. You knew you were losing him as soon as threshing came this year but you didn’t realize how much it would physically and emotionally hurt when the blow did come. “I can-” You heard his voice ruff and rasped coming up behind you as he tried placing a soft hand on your shoulder that you yanked away. “Fucking save it Riorson. You can’t tell me you don’t have fucking feelings for her.” You hissed tone heavy with anger and rage. “I-. I-.” He tried stuttering pathetically. “Save it. Just fucking save it. You want to know why I’ve been so distant since threshing? I’ve been trying to prep myself for this moment for this blow and you know it it still fucking hurts Xaden.” 

   “Mo ghràdh.” He tried reaching for you again but you shook your head, backing away thankful that you saw Garrick hiding himself in the distance, so you wouldn’t have to be alone after this. “No. We had our time before your dragon decided to mate with Sorrengail and I knew you or her wouldn’t be able to contain yourselves. I can’t. I can’t share you not like that. I’m sorry Xaden; but i think its best that our time has come to an end.” You could see him start to plead and start to want to beg for you, but you also saw when the realization hit him. “I’m sorry too.” He said softly and added. “I really did love you Y/N.” “Yeah I loved you to Xaden. Just promise me that you will stay safe and protect what is right.” He nodded as he gave a light “Promise.” as he turned and walked away.

  That was when you let yourself sink down to the ground, pull your knees up to your chest, bury your face into your knees and cry. You wished there was something back in your cabinet in your station for this but you knew there was nothing in a bottle or visle for a broken heart. You heard Garrick’s footsteps softly approach as he sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into him. Giving you the shoulder to cry on that you needed even as it started snowing; you sat on the ground crying; taking in his comfort as you silently reminded yourself with your favorite quote from an ancient text; I’m the rock against which the surf crashes; nothing can break me. 

[soulofapatrick]

The Fourth Wing Boys and their Kinks

Summary: Just what I think the boys' main kinks would be

Words: 3.9K words

Warnings: smut

➩ Overstimulation - Xaden thrives on control and precision, and overstimulation is his way of showing just how deeply he can unravel you. He takes his time, pushing you further than you thought possible, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure until you’re shaking beneath him. His low, gravelly voice whispers in your ear, “You can take more, can’t you?” as his skilled hands and lips continue their relentless assault. Xaden watches every reaction—your trembling limbs, breathless moans—with a predatory satisfaction, proving that only he can bring you to this point of exquisite surrender.

➩ Brat taming - Xaden’s authoritative personality means he doesn’t tolerate defiance for long—but he enjoys the challenge of taming a brat. When you test his patience with teasing remarks or deliberate disobedience, he’ll pin you with a dark, warning look that promises consequences. “Is that how you want to play this?” he growls, his voice a dangerous purr. Xaden thrives on putting you in your place, using firm dominance tempered with just enough restraint to make you crave more. By the end, you’re begging for forgiveness as he reminds you who’s really in control.

➩ Semi-public - The danger and thrill of semi-public intimacy appeal to Xaden’s dark, commanding nature. He’ll pull you into a shadowed corner, his hand firm on your hip as he murmurs in your ear, “Be quiet, or they’ll hear.” His touch is deliberate, teasing you while maintaining enough composure to keep control of the situation. The risk of being caught only heightens his intensity, as he pushes boundaries and leaves you breathless, flushed, and craving more even as others are mere feet away.

➩ Edging - Xaden has an unmatched patience when it comes to building anticipation. His touch is a tease, giving you just enough to drive you mad but never quite letting you fall over the edge. He watches every reaction intently—your gasps, the way your body arches beneath him—all while holding you back with a devilish smirk. “Not yet,” he’ll murmur, his tone dark and teasing. He enjoys knowing he’s the only one who can push you to the brink, dragging out the tension until you’re begging him to let go. The eventual release is explosive, leaving you trembling in his arms as he murmurs, “See what happens when you trust me?”

➩ Bondage - Xaden’s authoritative nature makes him an expert at restraint—both physically and emotionally. He enjoys tying you up, his rough hands gliding over your skin as he secures you with precise, unhurried movements. He takes his time, ensuring you feel safe, whispering promises of what’s to come. There’s a thrill in knowing you’re completely at his mercy, unable to touch him while he explores every inch of your body. He’ll linger, taking in the sight of you, his dark eyes filled with predatory satisfaction. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with intent, right before he shows you exactly how much he’s capable of.

➩ Thigh riding - Garrick’s serious, no-nonsense demeanour gives way to a deliciously commanding side in the bedroom. He’ll pull you onto his thigh, his hands firm on your hips as he guides your movements. His intense gaze locks on you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lose control. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. He revels in the power of knowing he can make you come undone with just his thigh, the tension in his body evident as he holds himself back from taking things further—until he decides you’ve earned it.

➩ Hair pulling - Garrick’s lack of patience shows through in his touch, rough and unrestrained when passion takes over. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp, his lips curving into a wicked smile at your reaction. “You like that, don’t you?” he teases, his voice laced with amusement and desire. For Garrick, hair pulling isn’t just about control—it’s about eliciting raw, unfiltered responses from you, something that feeds his need to break through his usual stoic exterior.

➩ Face fucking - Garrick’s authoritative nature shines in this act, where he takes full control, ensuring you’re as much a participant as you are at his mercy. He guides you with firm, steady hands, his tone encouraging yet commanding. “Good girl,” he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Garrick’s focus is unwavering, watching you with intense eyes that hold a mixture of pride and hunger. He’s mindful of your limits but pushes them just enough, ensuring that every moment feels like both a challenge and a reward.

➩ Somnophilia - Garrick’s protective side translates into a fascination with your vulnerability, though he would never act without explicit trust and consent. On rare occasions, he might wake you with soft, lingering kisses and featherlight touches, murmuring your name as his hands explore your body. His low chuckle would accompany your sleepy, surprised reactions. “Couldn’t wait,” he’d whisper against your skin, his tone teasing but tender. For Garrick, it’s about cherishing the intimacy of those quiet, unguarded moments where nothing exists but the two of you.

➩ Body worship - Garrick’s serious, duty-oriented personality doesn’t stop him from showing reverence for your body. His hands move with purpose, exploring every inch of you with quiet intensity. He takes his time, pressing kisses to scars, curves, and soft spots, his humor shining through as he murmurs playful compliments and earnest praise. “Perfect,” he’ll say, his voice full of conviction, his eyes filled with adoration. For Garrick, body worship is about showing you how much he values you—every mark, every flaw, every detail—and reminding you that you’re utterly, completely his.

➩ Praise kink - Liam thrives on knowing he can make you feel good, both emotionally and physically. His words are genuine and heartfelt, spoken with an edge of playfulness that keeps the mood light. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll murmur, his hands steady and warm as they explore your body. Liam’s praise comes from a place of deep admiration and care—he enjoys building you up, reminding you just how much you mean to him in every whispered compliment and tender touch.

➩ Cunnilingus - Liam is the definition of generous in the bedroom, and nothing brings him more satisfaction than focusing all his attention on you. He’s thorough, patient, and utterly devoted, taking his time to learn exactly what makes you gasp and moan. He’ll lock eyes with you, a playful grin on his lips as he revels in every sound you make. “That’s it,” he’ll say, his voice husky with pride and arousal. For Liam, it’s not just an act—it’s a way of showing his loyalty and unwavering desire to put your pleasure first.

➩ Breeding - Liam’s loyalty and protective instincts lend themselves to a fascination with the idea of creating something lasting and permanent with you. The thought of you carrying a piece of him makes his possessive side flare in the most tender way. He’d pull you close, his tone a mixture of seriousness and affection. “You’d look so good carrying my baby,” he’d whisper, his hands firm on your hips, his words equal parts tease and promise. For Liam, it’s about deepening the bond between you, a physical representation of the love and commitment he holds so fiercely.

➩ Body worship - Liam’s charm and natural warmth make him an expert at lavishing attention on you. His hands are soft but firm, his lips leaving trails of kisses over every inch of your skin. He’ll pause at scars or imperfections, lingering to show his appreciation for every part of you. “Every bit of you is perfect,” he’ll murmur, his gaze full of sincerity. For Liam, body worship is his way of cherishing you, ensuring you never doubt how deeply he adores and values you.

➩ Foreplay - Liam loves to take his time, making foreplay an essential part of the experience. His humour and charm shine here, as he uses teasing touches and playful banter to build anticipation. He’ll trace soft kisses along your neck, whispering dirty jokes or sweet compliments in your ear. His hands are everywhere, learning every inch of you and coaxing you into a state of absolute need before taking things further. For Liam, foreplay isn’t just a precursor—it’s a way to connect with you emotionally and physically, ensuring every moment is unforgettable.

➩ Cunnilingus - Bodhi takes immense pride in his ability to please you, and he approaches it with both enthusiasm and tenderness. His playful nature comes through as he grins up at you, clearly enjoying every sound you make. “You taste so good,” he’ll murmur, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady. For Bodhi, it’s not just about the physical act—it’s about making you feel completely adored and cared for. He loves seeing you let go under his touch, knowing he’s the one responsible for your pleasure.

➩ Thigh riding - Bodhi’s tactile nature makes thigh riding one of his favourite ways to tease and connect with you. He’ll settle you on his lap, guiding your hips with firm hands, a playful smirk on his face as he encourages you to let loose. “Come on, sweetheart, show me what you’ve got,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts teasing and supportive. The friction and closeness drive him wild, and he loves the intimacy of having you so close, your pleasure written all over your face.

➩ Body worship - Bodhi’s sweet and protective nature makes him a master of body worship. He takes his time, tracing kisses along every inch of your skin, murmuring soft words of admiration with every touch. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he’ll say, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. Bodhi focuses on making you feel completely cherished, his hands gentle but deliberate as they roam your body. For him, body worship is about showing you just how deeply he values every part of you, inside and out.

➩ Marking - Bodhi’s protective streak and affectionate personality make marking you an irresistible form of connection. He’s not aggressive about it but rather playful and intentional, leaving gentle bites, kisses, or love marks where only the two of you know to look. “Gotta let everyone know you’re mine,” he’ll tease, his tone light but with a possessive edge. Bodhi loves the idea of leaving reminders of your time together, a way of keeping you close even when you’re apart. His touch is always careful and full of affection, ensuring every mark is a testament to how much he cherishes you.

➩ Somnophilia - Bodhi’s protective instincts make this kink a uniquely intimate experience for him. He’s drawn to the trust it requires, ensuring you’re fully comfortable and consenting beforehand. He’d wake you with soft, lingering touches, his voice low and soothing as he brings you to consciousness. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he’d murmur, his lips brushing against your skin as he eases you into pleasure. For Bodhi, it’s about blending affection and desire, making you feel safe and loved even in your most vulnerable moments.

➩ Semi-public - Ridoc’s humour and cheeky attitude make the idea of semi-public encounters irresistible. He enjoys the thrill of being caught—whether it’s in a secluded corner or in a place where there’s just enough risk of discovery to get his heart racing. “It’s not really public,” he’ll smirk, “just a little bit naughty.” The risk of someone walking in makes every touch, every kiss, more charged, and Ridoc loves to tease, taking things just far enough to make you squirm with anticipation, all while still keeping it lighthearted and fun.

➩ Cockwarming - Despite Ridoc’s playful demeanour, there’s a surprising intensity to his need for connection. Cockwarming allows him to be close to you for extended periods, where the attention isn’t rushed, and he can just enjoy being near you. He may joke around about it, but deep down, it’s about claiming space with you—without words, just through quiet intimacy. “I’m not going anywhere,” he’ll whisper with a grin, letting the tension between you both grow as time stretches on. It’s a way for him to relax, feel grounded, and indulge in the closeness he craves without needing to rush.

➩ Marking - Ridoc’s protective side comes into play with marking. He isn’t aggressive about it, but there’s a playful, possessive edge to how he lays his claim. A quick nip on your neck or a mark left on your inner thigh, all done with a grin and a joke to lighten the mood. “You’re mine now, love,” he’ll tease, the lightheartedness making it clear he’s not trying to be domineering—just showing you he cares in his own, cheeky way.

➩ Dry humping - Ridoc’s tendency to turn everything into a joke extends to the teasing nature of dry humping. His quick wit and playful manner mean he’s not in a hurry to go straight to the finish line. He’ll slow things down, pressing against you, enjoying the friction and the way it drives you wild with anticipation. His commentary will keep the mood light, but the closeness and build-up make it far more than just playful—he knows exactly how to make you beg for more, all while keeping it fun and teasing. “What? Can’t a guy get a little close?” he’ll say with a mischievous grin, pushing you right to the edge of frustration.

➩ Body worship - Ridoc’s body worship isn’t about reverence or slow adoration—it’s a playful, affectionate admiration of every inch of you. He’ll touch, kiss, and caress you with a light, teasing air, as though he’s trying to see how much he can make you squirm. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he’ll joke, but there’s genuine affection in his voice as his hands trace over your body, paying attention to every detail. For Ridoc, it’s about making you feel adored while keeping the mood light and fun.

➩ Praise Kink - Sawyer, with his steady nature and quiet confidence, would appreciate the validation of praise during intimacy. He’s not one to flaunt his abilities or demand attention, but when it comes to satisfying you, he would be incredibly attentive and would enjoy the reassurance of hearing how much you appreciate him. His praise would be understated but earnest, low and smooth, always making sure you know how well you’re doing, and how beautiful he finds you. “You’re perfect like this,” he’d murmur, the calm satisfaction in his voice making you feel cherished. For Sawyer, praise would be an intimate expression of trust and respect, not about feeding his ego but about connecting with you on a deeper level.

➩  Silent sex - Given Sawyer’s composed and calm demeanour, silent sex would be something he finds deeply intimate. He doesn’t feel the need for words to communicate with you during these moments; the silence would be a shared understanding between the two of you. His focus would be entirely on you—each touch, every movement would be deliberate and purposeful. When it comes to making love to you, he doesn’t need to speak to show how much he cares. His gaze, his slow, calculated movements, and the way his hands hold you close would be enough. The quiet moments are where Sawyer’s tenderness shines through, without the need for anything other than the connection between your bodies.

➩  Cunnilingus - Sawyer’s attentiveness to your needs would make him a patient and thorough lover when it comes to cunnilingus. He would take his time, savouring every moment as he worships your body. The way he focuses on you, his hands gently holding your hips as he learns every contour of your pleasure, would be an act of devotion. His quiet, calculating mind would apply the same precision to this as he does with any challenge, ensuring you’re completely satisfied. “Let me take care of you,” he’d say softly, his voice a low promise as he shows you how much he values you. Sawyer would treat this act with reverence, a true sign of how deeply he wants to please you.

➩  Hair pulling - Though Sawyer is generally calm and in control, his intensity would come through in moments of passion. Hair pulling would be a subtle but powerful way for him to express his desire, guiding you when things get heated. His approach would be firm but not harsh—he wouldn’t pull roughly, but rather in a way that brings you closer to him. He’d pull you into a kiss, using the grip on your hair to tilt your head just the way he wants, making sure you’re exactly where he wants you. “You make me lose control sometimes,” he’d whisper, his voice low and breathy as he uses the act to both claim and connect with you.

➩  Cockwarming - Sawyer’s need for connection and his ability to remain calm under pressure would make cockwarming a deeply intimate act for him. He’s not one to rush, and he would enjoy the sensation of being close to you without the pressure to go further immediately. For him, it’s about closeness, the sensation of you against him, and the trust it builds between the two of you. He would enjoy the quiet intimacy of it, keeping you close, feeling your body against his while taking a moment to breathe and simply enjoy the bond. “Just stay with me a little longer,” he’d murmur, enjoying the connection, his hands softly caressing your skin as he holds you close.

➩ Overstimulation - Brennan’s strategic mind would approach overstimulation with precision, as if orchestrating every touch to maximise your pleasure. He has the patience to carefully build you up, ensuring you’re pushed to the brink again and again, each time giving you just enough to keep you on edge. He’d be meticulous in his actions, feeling every reaction you give as he carefully stretches your limits. “Just a little longer,” he’d murmur, his thumb brushing over your skin to calm you before he builds you up again, watching the way your body trembles for him. There’s a level of control and care, but also a subtle intensity in his need to take you to the edge of madness before finally letting go.

➩ Cockwarming - Brennan would use cockwarming as a way to foster a deep, intimate connection without needing to rush. It’s more about the quiet moment, the closeness, and his need to keep you near him. He’d likely enjoy the sensation of simply being with you, even if it means waiting. “We’re not in a hurry,” he’d say softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as you rest against him. This act, for him, would be about claiming a small space in the world that’s just for the two of you, even if it’s not overtly sexual. There’s a tenderness to it—a way of connecting without words.

➩ Brat taming - Though Brennan doesn’t seem the type to be openly dominant, his patience and ability to think things through would make him very good at brat taming. He wouldn’t mind the pushback, recognising it as a challenge to be solved. When you act up, he’s likely to smile, knowing he has all the time in the world to bring you back into line. His voice would be calm, almost soothing, as he guides you back into submission. “You can keep testing me, but you’ll only end up exactly where I want you,” he’d say with a grin, letting his hands wander with gentle but firm authority. His approach would never be angry—more like an opportunity to remind you who’s in charge, without needing to raise his voice.

➩ Rough - Despite his tendency to focus on strategic thinking and being calm under pressure, Brennan’s rough side would come out when he knows it’s what you need. His patience would flip into a sudden intensity, driven by his desire to take control and deliver a release for both of you. He’d be firm, but never reckless—his roughness would have purpose behind it, focused on bringing you to your breaking point with intent. “This is what you wanted,” he’d say lowly, his hands gripping your hips as he moves with a force that contrasts with his usual composed nature. For him, roughness would be a way to show his intensity, grounded in his usual self-assurance.

➩ Thigh riding - Brennan would likely enjoy thigh riding as a subtle, playful way to enjoy intimacy without diving straight into more intense acts. His focus on connection means he’d want to enjoy the sensation of you moving against him, your bodies close, without the pressure of rushing. He would love watching you ride his thigh, enjoying how your body responds to the friction. “You look so good like this,” he’d murmur, a grin tugging at his lips as he enjoys the view of you, his hands resting on your hips to guide you with gentle encouragement. It’s a mix of tenderness and desire, with a steady intensity that matches his personality.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[hiraethjules]

Masterlist

Requests are open!

What I’m willing to write for

Fourth wing

Any Harry Potter era (but mainly the marauders)

Percy Jackson

The Folk of the Air

Shadowhunters

Throne of Glass

ACOTAR

Crescent City

Key

✨ fluff

❤️‍🩹 angst

❤️‍🔥 NSFW

💞 platonic

Fourth Wing

Xaden Riorson

Garrick Tavis

Liam Mairi

Bodhi Durran

Brennan Sorrengail

Dain Aetos

Ridoc Gamlyn

Sawyer Henrick

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Drake Cordella/Mira Sorrengail

Throne of Glass

ACOTAR

Crescent City

The Folk of the Air

Shadowhunters

Harry Potter (all eras)

Percy Jackson universe

[justallihere]

chapter 30 lets goooooo

i looooove how you're making violet miss xaden !! listen as much as i love my men stupid the amount of ppl last chapter that were happy with his suffering made me feel bad !! i feel like xaden needs shooters and i have to step up to defend my man. and it's like ... they're so married it makes me sick. ofc they cant sleep apart when they're under the same roof. it just goes to show that the foundations of the relationship are there and that there's hope !! i also think violet needs time to digest everything and what better time to do that than at night when she cant sleep bc she misses her hubby??

2) Tairn and Sgaeyl paralel with Xaden and Violet you will always be famous. Mr. "humans are too emotional" Tairn and yet he also cant sleep when he's mad at Sgaeyl ... i know what you are.

3) Riorson house needs better guards, wdym violet can just avoid them ??

4)

She was Xaden’s wife. She was queen. Him, the house, the city, the entire country—they all belonged to her as much as she belonged to them. Maybe she should start acting like it. 

(i know i use this gif way to much but i cant help it it's perfect)

Oh we looooove a violet that knows how powerful she is, even without a signtet !! she's just understanding she can command the whole country and i love that for her. Xaden gave her the power and i think in the next few chapters we're gonna see both of them understanding that they're more powerful together than apart.

5) Now let's get into Garrick and Liam's business bc there's so much to unpack. For once Garrick can't mind his business to save his life ... he's so gossip girl coded and tbh can't blame him I too am nosy.

the worried glanced they shared when they thought she wasn't looking ... your honor they're so scared lmao.

But now on a more serious note, I loved the conversation they had about the whole affair. Both parties trying to rationalize their hurt and understanding each others sides was important. Garrick and Liam needed to understand that Violet is their ruller alongside Xaden, she's not a flower they need to protect. And if she's to rule she needs to be informed of stuff, they can't go behind their back. And ofc the order came from Xaden but they actively participated in it which is why she's so upset. But Violet also needed to understand that this secret can't just be shared like this and they did the best they thought would work under the circunstances.

I also think Violet knows she just needs time.

6)

“Is there something you want to say, Tavis?” She raised an eyebrow. “Some comment about my marriage you’d like to share?” 

Oh she knows people have been talking about her marriage. But I love how protective she is about her relationship with Xaden. It's no one's business and they'll figure themselves out without outside intervention. She knows she misses him, she knows she cares, or she wouldn't be this upset, she just needs to be angry a bit more while they work on it. And she has aknowledged she doesn't want to live like this: hurt and upset, so she knows they need to work it out somehow.

Can't wait till she aknowledges he's her rock, can't wait for THAT moment.

7) Violet and Liam made up !!!

(i could not for the life of me find the whole gif so enjoy this one, you know what comes next)

just like canon Liam is too busy defending Xaden's actions to violet *cries*. But yeah i think we need to have a conversation about nuance. We as readers, can be upset for Violet due to Xaden's behavior while aknowledging why Xaden did what he did. and i think it's what's so beautiful about this narrative. bc at the end of the day i probably would've done what he did. and i think violet knows that too even if she's not ready to admit it to herself just yet.

8) touched starved Xaden enters the scene so ofc angst ensues. His little touch didn't hurt at all ... ahaha ... (you are very mean miss ma'am)

9) Love how Xaden is like: okay you know now so get to work come with me to this drift. like my guy give her a day ??

10) Violent andarna u will always be famous

11) Cat is very pathetic, like omg girl GET UP like i'm embarassed for her. All that over a man ?? a crown ?? bestie don't u literally have a crown at home ?? Violet absolutely destroyed Cat was a highlight and Xaden was turned on.

12) Imogen will always come through !! that's a girl's girl

13)Now while i feel bad for Syrena Xaden is correct its not Tyrrendor's problem they're dying. In fact, he's already doing more than he should bc the moment Tecarus was like: "no luminary for yall" i would've been like "oh sure you're on your own then, say goodbye to the weapons". I feel like Xaden's being too good.

14) and you explained perfectly why Xaden and Violet are made for each other !! Yes, they both have some sort of moral compass, but above all that they're loyal to themselves and to those that they love.

15) The Squad capital T capital S being ride or die will always get me. Liam just takes it my poor boy.

16) Now Cam ... the way you've been here for a month and haven't found anything is very useless behavior. But we forgive, he's a man after all.

17) Violet wants a healthy relationship with Xaden and thats exactly what i asked for !! yes, get to talking like adults. I love how she has childish thoughts of vengence but she's like "yeah that isn't really what i want to do" and doesn't act on impulse.

18) why do i feel like next chapter xaden is gonna be so stressed when he hears of this suicidal plan and also why do i feel like the equivalent of varrish torture scene is coming. you are scaring me.

19) i wanna be you when i grow up alli. the way you release chapters so damn fast ... my readers could only wish lmao. you are literally not human (i mean it as a compliment <3)

Okay this comment is so beautiful and so well thought out??? I’m in love with you??

I don’t have the time rn to respond to every one of these points but just thank you thank you thank you a million times over for the love on this chapter (and the fic as a whole) 🥰🥰

But: yes I’m obsessed with possessive Violet claiming Tyrrendor and Xaden and her own. I LOVED writing that. Whatever problems she has with either of them, they’re hers and Xaden’s to deal with and no one else’s. They are, for better or worse, a team, and no one gets a say in their relationship and she will shut it down so fast if they try

[quietstormxr]

You'll Survive

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence

Again breaking my heart here, just Garrick this time, as requested.

Summary: Garrick leaves for War Games and you are determined to forget him.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/n: Mentions of Tourture/some swearing, some Iron Flames spoilers

Should we have our angry bad ass girl give Garrick an ass kicking in a part 2?

The anger turned in to absolute despair. How could things have gotten so bad? The last words you exchanged with him were in anger and now you’d never be able to take them back. You’d never know if you really meant anything to him or not. At the same time, you couldn’t decide if you cared or not.

The anger that rotted in your core the entire time you were away was rooted farther than anything you’d ever felt before. He wouldn’t fight for you to join him, but there was Imogen, looking at you with a smug look on her face. You couldn’t help the way your face hardened, and a steely glare settled across your features.

You had seen the way she looked at him when you weren’t around and knew there had to be something there. Whether or not he still felt something, you were unsure. But the minute he turned his back to you and walked towards Imogen for War Games, you felt there was more there than he ever led on. 

You thought back to the last words that you exchanged and couldn’t help the regret that filled every part of your body. 

“So that’s it, huh?” You breathe as Garrick walks towards you. “You won’t even try to convince Xaden to take me?”

“You’re a first year, there’s no reason for you to be with the Wingleader’s headquarters squad.” He said back a calm determination on his face.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Especially given the fact that he’s taking two other first years.” You snapped back viciously. 

“You’re to go with the rest of your squad. You’ll survive without me for a few days.” He says nonchalantly.

After that statement, you couldn’t control the raging inferno that coated your veins and made a home in your stomach. Hot and corrosive, you couldn’t help the way you wanted to punch him straight in the face.

“I see.” You say as you look past Garrick at Imogen still smirking at you smugly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your trip with your girl, because it certainly isn’t me.” You spit as you turn sharply and mount your dragon. 

‘Let’s go Diomat.’ You demand as you refuse to look back down at the infuriating man before you.

‘With pleasure, Bold One.’ Diomat confirms and immediately lifts into the air, but not before issuing a warning growl to your Section Leader.

You refuse to look back and see what emotion Garrick could possibly have on his face. Was he even hurt at what you said or was he smirking that you would ever dare to think he’d want you?

You fly for Eltuval and let the cold wind try to cool the flames that seem to lick underneath your skin. You refuse to let that man be the reason you lose your focus. You let the anger simmer in the hours it takes for you to get to your outpost. 

As soon as you feel Diomat begin her descent, you take a deep breath closing your eyes and try to let the anger filter out of your body. You walk forward to the outpost and listen to the directions of your squad leader and senior leadership. 

Everything seemed to be going according to leaderships plan, until you find yourself slightly farther from the outpost than you anticipated. You’re unsure why, but you were sent to the northwestern most part of region your squad was to be patrolling. You hear a roar that sounds like a dragon and you turn in your seat and look, only to see what appears to be a grey dragon. 

You furrow your brow in confusion as you notice it only has two legs and then watch as it spits blue fire. 

‘Diomat, is there another dragon breed we aren’t taught about?’ You ask with fear starting to lace your mental voice.

‘That is no dragon.’ Diomat replies fiercely.

‘Well, are you going to tell me what it is if it isn’t a dragon?’

‘I believe your leadership may have forced us into a situation we weren’t expecting.’ Diomat snarls. ‘Those abominations are wyvern. I believe you know the stories about them and their creators.’

Your eyes widen and dart between your dragon and the grey wyvern that is flying into the neighboring Poromish town.

‘Wh-Wha-What?’ Even your thoughts begin to stammer as you try to puzzle the pieces together. ‘Why would they send us out here if they knew about this? What are we supposed to do Diomat?’

Your thoughs are a jumble and you can’t seem to process anything. Within the few seconds that were spent hovering in the air to examine the creature, it has now set its sights on you.

“SHIT!” You say as the large grey mass starts barreling towards you at untenable speeds. 

‘Hold on.’ Diomat commands as she begins climbing above the cover of the trees.

‘Is there a way to kill this thing?’ You question in a panic, hoping beyond hope that there’s a solution to this.

‘Do you still have the dagger the Section Leader gave to you?’

You furrow your brows while you pull the runed dagger from the sheath at your calf. You pull it out and your eyes blow wide. Where there was just a normal dagger before, now the hilt is glowing a soft blue color and you can feel the magic thrum through your fingers. 

‘This can kill them?’ 

‘Yes, do you remember what venin look like? Can you transform into what you remember from the descriptions of your book? If so, you may be able to drop down and kill it.’ Diomat explains as we continue to dip, dive, and weave through heavy tree coverage.

‘You want me to get on the back of the wyvern?!?’ You ask incredulously at the plan your dragon has just drawn in your mind.

‘Yes, because you are more than capable of doing this. You are a powerful rider. My rider. And I know that you can do this.’ Diomat says with a tone of absolute conviction.

If only your mind was as certain in your abilities as Diomat’s mind is. 

‘You will need to aim for the chest that should be the weakest part.’ Diomat confirms before you notice her slowing down. 

You turn your head and watch as blue flames continue to blow directly behind your dragon gaining on you second by second. Diomat begins to dip down even further while you begin to float through the memories of the stories of the venin. 

You remember the billowing robes, the red veins, the color of their eyes reflecting their bloodlust for power and finally the veins that mar their tarnished skin. You settle on a full picture in the art gallery in your mind and take a deep breath reaching for Diomat’s power. When you look down at yourself next, your clothes are no longer riding leathers, but a purple robe that looks tattered and moth eaten. You continue to look down at your hands and can’t help the panic that flares to life in your chest when you see the red veins coating every inch of your fingers. 

‘You are still you, Bold One. I would not let you tarnish yourself.’ Diomat consoles as you feel pride radiating from your bond.

‘Okay, Diomat. Let’s take down this thing.’ You think back closing away all the insecurities plaguing your mind. 

Soon enough Diomat is slowing down but lifting you both to the clouds. As you burst through the tree line, you watch as the wyvern continues flying towards where it thought you still were. Slowly you begin to descend and rise from the seat of your dragon and walk towards her front left leg. 

‘This is why I have not been going easy on you, Bold One. I will not leave my rider unprepared, even if the Section Leader wanted to keep this from you.’

As Diomat begins to descend, you look up to the sky and pray to Zinhal that this plan will work. After that one thought, you close your eyes for just a second and let yourself free fall. 

You land with a smack onto a rough grey surface, and you lock every muscle in your body tight. 

Is this why Garrick was always disappearing for hours on end?

You shake your head trying to waft off any other thoughts of the Section Leader when you are trying to kill the beast below you. You cautiously make your way up to the neck scales, until you look up and realize, those aren’t scales, they are feather razors.

You crouch down next to the neck and plunge the dagger you have down as hard as you possibly can. Not expecting the bounce back, you end up being bucked against the razor mane on the neck of the wyvern as the beast bucks and writhes trying to dislodge your dagger. 

You pull yourself forward and wrap both hands around the blade and jump in front of its wing. 

‘Catch me Diomat.’ You think as you feel yourself falling while your dagger peels through the rough skin of the wyvern. 

Your dagger finally breaks free, and you are free falling towards the line of trees.

‘DIOMAT!’

‘Coming, Bold One!’ You hear Diomat’s voice break causing you to let fear take over as you fall faster and faster. 

Your pull on your power lessens and you watch as the robes become your leathers again. You try to bring your leg up and sheath the dagger back at your calf. The next thing you feel is your head hitting branches and your vision swims momentarily. You feel your emotions tugging at you that this is the end, and you will meet Malek today.

‘No, you are destined for great things, Y/N. You will not die today.’ Diomat says authoritatively. 

As if on command at that statement, you finally feel yourself crash into bumpy scales. It takes all the effort you can muster to grab for Diomat’s pommel to stop your own acceleration. You can feel your arms protesting the amount of strength it’s taking to say on while your back screams from the lashes of the wyverns razored feathers. 

Diomat continues to try and stop both your acceleration and keep pace back towards the outpost. You grunt in response to the effort and try to pull yourself back into the seat. Everything in your body is telling you to give in to the sweet call of sleep, but you know you need to wait until you get back to the outpost. 

As you fly closer to Eltuval, you can’t help but feel like something is wrong. You look around at the field where your squad’s dragons had been landing the last four days and see them all gone. 

‘Where did the squad go?’

‘Nokass just confirmed that all Basgiath squads have headed back to the Citadel.’

At that you perk up and your body goes rigid. Did they set you up and leave you to die? Didn’t anyone else see what had happened?

‘Did Nokass give us any orders?’

‘We are to land and debrief with the cadre here. Besides Bold One, you need to have your wounds tended to.’ Diomat says with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

‘Should I tell them about the wyvern?’

‘No. Tell them you fell off when we were accelerating while practicing flight maneuvers.’

You send your understanding back through the bond and dismount Diomat. You don’t make it far before you are escorted by two lieutenants that met you at the flight field. You enter the infirmary there and lay down. 

Soon enough your wounds are tended to, and the mender confirms you need to rest. You fall into a fitful sleep that focuses on wyvern, venin, and a certain dark-haired Section Leader that seems to have been keeping more from you than you ever realized. 

You wake in a sweat and look around confused before realizing where you are. It’s another two days before you are given clearance to leave, which luckily the senior cadre of the outpost seemed to have bought the story that Diomat told you to spin. 

You are given orders to return to Basgiath and a note confirming the reason for your absence. 

Hours later, you are flying on Diomat with the wind battering your new scars and broken thoughts. How much had he been hiding from you this entire time? What did he really know? Were you just a little plaything for him?

As you watch the sun rise, you set your jaw and take a deep breath. You know at this point there is no need in worrying. Graduation is done, and he has most likely been sent to his outpost. You try to let yourself settle at the realization that you’ll never see him again.

When you land in the flight field, you are surprised to see a green dragon seemingly just returning from a flight with their rider. You look over and realize who it is. 

Bodhi. 

As you draw closer with Diomat, you watch as he turns his head and looks back before whipping it back around with wide surprised eyes. 

‘Apparently there was miscommunication. Your squad and the Section Leader were told your name was reported for the death rolls.’ Diomat relays with irritation.

Your eyebrows fly up and eyes widen in surprise. Did none of Basgiath cadre know that you’d been in the infirmary at Eltuval? Why would you have been reported for the death rolls before confirmation would’ve been sent from the outpost? 

You clutch harder to the orders that you were given as you dismount. You trip forward slightly as your blood rushes back into your legs, your body protesting every movement as everything is still tight from your body needing additional recovery.  You slowly stand to your feet and as you look up you are met by surprised brown eyes.

“Wha – How?” You watch as Bodhi sputters. “We were told you were dead. Your name was to be read on the death rolls tomorrow.”

You look at him with a dead panned expression and say in a flat voice. “Well obviously someone got their information wrong.”

You go to turn and walk away, ready to dispel the myths about your apparent demise before you feel Bodhi’s hand on your elbow.

“You need to write to Garrick. He’s an absolute mess.” He says and you can see the sorrow reflected in his gaze for his brother.

“I don’t need to do anything.” You say back coldly, the lies and the way he didn’t fight for you taking forefront in your mind. 

“And you won’t be telling him either.” You warn. “He made his choices. Those things don’t change just because I happen to be alive.”

You watch as a grimace crosses Bodhi’s face clearly remembering the way that you departed for War Games. 

“Besides,” you whisper as you step into Bodhi’s space bringing your mouth to his ear. “I was too busy fighting off and killing a wyvern to worry about writing.”

You relish the way Bodhi’s eyes flash with realization that not only did Garrick leave you behind, but you also now know what he was trying to keep hidden. 

“How about this.” You pull back and add with a challenging tone. “How about you and the rest of your marked friends keep my secret and I’ll keep yours? Hmm.”

You watch as Bodhi seems to weigh his options before nodding in defeat, his head falling forward. 

“Good. Pleasure doing business with you Durran.” You purr venomously. 

You fully turn now and walk purposefully towards the Commandant’s office looking to clear yourself. You will not let Garrick’s feelings over your supposed death completely erase the way he left you behind and apparently never trusted you in the first place.

As you stride through the halls of the Rider’s Quadrant, you begin to relish the looks of shock from everyone around you. You briefly wonder if you’re the only person who was seemingly resurrected after War Games, but the thought is fleeting when you feel a body run straight into you, tearing the breath out of you.

“Gods. How are you alive? Where have you been?” You look up to realize that you’ve been engulfed in a hug by your best friend and squad mate and crack the first smile you’ve had in days.

“Let’s just say the front gave Diomat and I some personal surprises on our patrol. Ones that landed me in Eltuval’s Infirmary for two days after you all left.” You say while trying to evade the full answer to the question. 

“I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to kill you.” His answer causes a laugh to bubble out of you involuntarily.

“Come on, I have to go deliver this to Pancheck before everyone really thinks I’m dead.” You pull him along and head towards the Commandant’s headquarters.

Weeks pass and you get back to normal or whatever can possibly pass as your new normal. You can’t help the way you notice those that were in Resson are being targeted for what you assume is the same knowledge you now have. However, for whatever reason the cadre seems to have bought your story, at least for now. 

You’ve also been avoiding the dirty looks Imogen gives you any time you happen to be in the same room. Why the hell can’t she just leave you alone? She got what she wanted, so you can’t understand what her issue is. Though luckily for you, your deal with Bodhi makes sure you don’t have to worry about her little obsession worrying over you. 

You’ve avoided Violet like the absolute plague ever since returning and was lucky enough to be shuffled into a squad with no marked ones after the disaster that was parapet. 

You’ve heard people talking about Riorson coming back to Basgiath, but you’ve so far been lucky to avoid him. Until one day in the rotunda you’re walking to your next class and you’re unfortunate enough to see him standing not far away talking to Bodhi. 

You watch as he looks up and directly at you and then whip his heads around again towards you before blinking several times and rubbing his eyes. Fortunately for you, practicing with your signet has you ready for this unfortunate meeting. As soon as you see him, you immediately change your hair and eye color, along with angling out your features more. 

You look towards your squad mate to your right and smirk as his features slacken slightly at your change in appearance.

“Stop gawking or Riorson is going to get suspicious.” You tell him lowly. 

He shakes his head and moves his eyes to back in front of you. You both continue to walk on your way to your next class and enter the door taking a seat.

“Since when can you do that?” He asks now looking at you with open fascination.

“Since about right before we left for War Games last year. Diomat and I practiced while everyone else was too busy getting drunk before the Reunification Day party. Just haven’t had the reason to show off my skills.” You recount. 

“I can change pretty much my entire appearance.” You relay as you begin to smirk again and completely transform yourself into looking like your friend in front of you.

“Well godsdamn. I look absolutely fabulous.” He quips. 

With that you break down and start laughing uncontrollably. With that loss of fine control, you morph back into your own form. You watch as suddenly his face turns serious.

“Have you really not written or heard from Tavis?” He asks a hint of trepidation at the topic hitting his voice.

“No.” You sigh before replying. “I convinced Durran that he had to keep the secret of my existence to himself and the rest of his marked friends here in exchange for a favor to them as well. So, my secret is safe with me, which is why I didn’t want Riorson to see me. He’s unaware of his cousin’s deal.”

Your friend shakes his head in comprehension and you both face forward as the professor comes into the class. 

Weeks continue to fly by in a whir of classes and idiotic RSC challenges. At this point, you don’t even know what the class is even worth. They aren’t truly giving anyone the whole story and battle brief continues to be a joke. 

You have started training with Diomat after classes hoping to get better at flight maneuvers so that you’re truly prepared for the upcoming war. It’s after a grueling training session with her that you are taken by surprise while walking back to your room. 

Before you can react to protect yourself, you feel something blunt slam into the back of your head and your vision swims before you fall to a heap on the ground. 

As you slowly wake up, you can’t seem to stop the incessant pounding in your head. Your head rolls back and forth as you try to shake off the haze. When your eyes open, you are met with a dirt ceiling that looks like it has been carved in the underground. 

You try to move your arms and feel the sharp bite of iron around your wrists and biceps. You sit up straight just to find yourself strapped to a wooden chair. You shake your head again and look around searching for your squad mates like you would normally find for the special torture that is RSC.

Unfortunately for you, there isn’t anyone else here. You hear footsteps from outside the door and draw in a quick breath stealing yourself for whatever horror is coming your way.

As the door opens you smell the sour stench of body odor and hair oil that permeates the air. As you take in the man before you confusion knits your brow. 

Why would Varrish be here? You hadn’t done anything to draw attention to yourself since returning from War Games. Did Bodhi or one of the marked ones sell you out?

You have little more time to think about what is happening before you feel a hand connect with your cheek. You let out a grunt as your head whips to the side and pain bursts across your mouth. 

“Seems fitting after all of your lies to be sitting in this chair, doesn’t it?” He croons as he slowly walks around the chair you are strapped to. 

“I don’t know what lies you speak of Vice Commandant.” You spit. The last thing you will do is break to this disgusting husk of a man. 

“Oh, I believe you do.” He sneers. “You and Sorrengail will be instrumental in getting Riorson and Tavis to spill everything they know.”

You can’t help the sarcastic huff that leaves you. The bitter taste of anger and betrayal still whirring inside you.

“You’ll find that you are wrong about Tavis.” You protest vehemently. “His affections lie elsewhere. You are wasting your time with me.”

A sickening sneer of a smile crosses Varrish’s face and you know that nothing you will say will change his mind.

“Oh, I’m aware he may think you’re dead. But that doesn’t mean when he arrives you won’t be bait for him.” He whispers as he leans in close where the stench of him is almost enough to make you sick. 

He then rears back, and head butts you in the face and you hear a sickening crunch before the blood starts pouring from your nose. You try to hold in your scream, but it’s no use. You know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants from you. 

“Just give me some information and you can have your connection to your dragon back and you can go back to class, no one the wiser.”

You lift your chin in defiance at the vile man in front of you and let the blood from your broken nose into your mouth before spitting it right in his face. There’s no doubt in your mind that you will not risk your dragon or anyone else’s life to save your own. 

It takes a few hours before you realize that this torture will be never ending. Immediately after you think he is finished; he calls in Nolon to mend your body multiple times a day.

“Is it really worth keeping their secrets?” Nolon asks a note of sympathy and regret in his eyes as he mends your broken collarbone. 

“I will give my life for anyone’s. Secrets or no.” You spit at the man you had once seen as a kind and gentle soul. 

Nolon shakes his head and continues his work as you try to push away the pain of mending and focus on anything else. 

It’s about the eighth time that Nolon has come in to mend you before you start to feel like giving up may be the only option. 

“Can’t you just let me die already?” You viciously call back to the man healing you just so you can be broken again. 

“I’m sorry cadet, but this can all stop when you answer the Vice Commandant’s questions.” 

You turn your head away from him, not wanting to give him any more attention and let your body slip into unconsciousness. 

What seems like eternities later, you hear commotion outside the door that you’ve been holed up in. As you fade in and out from pain, you hear voices but you’re unsure of who they belong to. A strong crack in the rocks of the cell makes you jolt conscious, but you’re still unsure of what’s going on. 

“Wait.” You hear a male voice call. “Vi wasn’t the only one down here.”

“What are you talking about Aetos?” You hear a gruff voice call back. Your foggy mind wants to say it’s Garrick, but you know that must be impossible.

The next thing you know, the lock of the door is clicking open, and you turn your head to see what your next form of torture will be. 

As you look up, you meet warm brown eyes that shine with concern. 

“I didn’t realize you gave a damn about anyone but Violet, Aetos.” You rasp back, your voice disjointed from the amount of screaming you’d done and the number of times you’d been almost choked to death. 

“Luckily for you I knew that they took someone besides just Violet.” He says rushing to the chair. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand?”

You try and shrug your shoulders, but everything in your body seems to weigh ten times the amount it normally does. Aetos continues to unhook the restraints around your body and soon enough is trying to help lift you. 

Your broken tibia screams in protest, but the action of moving on your own two feet is not something you’re willing to give up. As you slowly make your way out of the cell, you both turn and look up. Staring back at you are a pair of stunned hazel eyes.

You watch as Garrick’s eyes widen to the point of concern, and he falls to his knees seeming to not believe what he’s seeing. As you stare at him, you watch as tears begin to swim in his eyes. The anger and helplessness you’ve been feeling curls around you and you close your eyes in anguish.

“You were right.” You rasp slowly with a thoughtful pause. 

“I guess I did survive.” You say before your overwhelming feelings and pain draws you under.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 1. No Daughter of Mine.

Synopsis: TBA Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia ?????) A/N: I couldn't wait any longer to start sharing this series with you guys. I am so excited for you to meet Dahlia and go on this roller coaster of a journey with me. This is your warning that this series will have a decent amount of angst and hurt, and will be a slow burn. Garrick going to have his work cut out for him And I'm curious... who do you think her sibling is after this?

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

Of course I would dream of that day. Of course my brain would bring up this memory now. Making me relive the worst day of my life. Doomed to haunt me till the day I would shrivel up and die.

There I am. So young and naïve. Not a care in the world as I run through the trees with my friends. No clue of what’s to come in a mater of minutes.

My feet push me further and further into the forest. Everything a blur of green and brown. My heart hammering loudly in my chest as I push myself to keep going. To win.

I can hear the sounds of their foot steps behind me. But not gaining. No. I was the fastest. The more agile. It gave me an upper hand while manoeuvring through the trees. I was going to win.

Ahead the trees start to thin, more light seeping into the dense forest. A beacon guiding us to the finish line. But for me…. It was guiding me to victory.

The boys had been stupid to suggest a race through the forest. But they were determined to beat me. At everything else we did they had the upper hand. They were bigger and stronger. Able to weld those training swords better than I. But when it came to this. No one could catch me.

I cry out in victory as I leap over a fallen log and into the clearing. Jumping up and down as I celebrate. I turn to watch the boys jump over the tree before placing their hands on their legs as they try to catch their breath.

I go to tease them about my victory, just like they would in the training grounds. But my words fall short as the ground trembles beneath me. A feeling I knew all too well. The boys eyes go wide at the sight behind me. I turn ever so slowly to see a hoard of dragons behind me. We had run so far through the first we had ended up in the clearing where the riders dragons were kept. And in the middle of them was a dragon I knew all too well. My father’s.

Unlike the boys behind me I wasn’t scared of the dragons. But coming from infantry, the boys behind me had never really been taught about dragons. They were scared.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I tell them as I take in the dragons in front of us.

The dragons looked beautiful in the sunlight. Their scales glistening when the sunlight hit just the right spot. I couldn’t help but be drawn to a blue one down the back. Blue dragons had always been my favourite. But they were the most ruthless of the colour. My father teaching me to never approach one.

“If there’s nothing to be afraid of why don’t you approach them.” One of the boys behind me mocks.

“I’m not afraid. Only a fool would approach a dragon” I call back.

“Liar. You’re scared.” Another mocks, the others snickering at his comment.

I whip back towards them. “I’m not scared.” I say sternly, my hands forming into fists at my side.

“Approach them then. Your father’s a dragon rider. You should know what to do.” One of the older boys states as he walks towards me. “You want to be one of them one day. Go on then. Get some practice.”

He shoves me in the shoulder sending me stumbling backwards towards the dragons. I couldn’t deny I was a little scared. I’d only been near a dragon a handful of times. But never on my own. Always with my father watching over my brother and I.

I turn and face the dragons behind me. My father’s dragon now front and centre.

I could do this. I knew this dragon. He belonged to my father. He wouldn’t hurt me. Right?

Each step forward has ever fibre of my body telling me to run. Don’t give into peer pressure. Turn back and let them think what they want. Prove to them you aren’t afraid another one. But I don’t. I keep putting one foot in front of the other.

My father’s dragon exposes his teeth, a low growl rumbling from its throat as he watches me approach. A warning. Even he knew this was foolish.

My heart beat thunders loudly in my ears. Drowning out the world around me. Run. I need to turn around and run.

Out of the corner of my eye I see it. My head snapping to the side as the rock soars over my head. I watch it, following it as it arcs through the air, and meeting its target. Right in the middle of the dragons left eye. I watch as its tongue curls, an orange glow igniting at the back of its throat. Its mouth still angled down towards me.

I turn to run even though I know it’s futile, know that I won’t make it. But I have to try. As I turn I feel the heat behind me. Know what’s about to happen. I shut my eyes, bracing for my end. But it’s an end that never comes as I’m pushed by something. No not something. Someone.

I soar across the clearing, landing with a thud on the ground near the boys as a scream rips through the clearing. By the time I look up no one is there. Just a pile of ash on the ground. A pile of ash my father rushed towards. My twin brother not far behind. My father’s screams and pleads echoing around the clearing along with my brothers cries. I scramble up to my feet, limping over to my father and brother.

“F-father?” I stutter out, my voice shaking.

Never in my life had I seen my father that mad as his head whips towards me. Tears brimming his eyes as he sneers at me.

“T-this is your fault!” He bellows as his eyes narrow at me.

I stop in my tracks shocked at my father’s outburst. My brother also recoiling from him slightly. His eyes also brimming with tears.

“How could you be so foolish? You know better than this! She’s dead because of you!”

I look down at the pile of ash he gestures to. And that’s when it hits. Know why my father and brother look so distraught and upset. The pile of ash was my mother.

I go to rush forward, but my father’s hand whips out and shoves me backwards to the ground. The force vibrating through my body as I hit the ground.

I’d killed my mother. I shouldn't have listened. Should have stood my ground. I should have run. If I had run she would be alive.

I look up and meet my father’s eyes. His gaze pinning me to the ground. I open my mouth to apologise, but he cuts me off with words that would stick with me for the rest of my life.

“You’re no daughter of mine.”

A/N: If you want to be on the tag list for this series please comment below <3