#Liam mairi angst

[soulofapatrick]

Sleep, I've Got You - Liam Mairi x Female Reader

Summary: you haven't slept in two weeks and two people are pushing you to seek Liam's help

Warnings: none

Words: 2.3k

Y/N's POV

The training room is filled with quiet conversation, but I linger in the doorway, unnoticed. Violet is stretched out on the floor with a book in hand, Bodhi and Garrick are watching Ridoc and Sawyer debating something trivial. Liam is just listening along, breathing air through his nose  when either of the goofs say something even more ridiculous than the other but he’s fiddling with a dagger in his hand. Xaden is in the corner, brooding as usual, his dark eyes occasionally flicking up to meet mine before drifting away. 

“Go to him.” Draighanmúr’s, or Draighan as I call him, voice rumbles in the back of my mind, firm and gentle. His presence is soothing, as always, but his suggestion catches me off guard, feeling his silent urge for me to move from where I’m still hovering in the doorway. He doesn’t say who the ‘him’ is but I know exactly who he is on about. 

I shouldn’t be here. My body is heavy with exhaustion, my thoughts fogged by the lack of sleep that’s haunted me for days. I know I should turn around and head back to the dorms, crawl into bed and pull the duvet over my head and try to get a single wink of sleep. Something, or someone, keeps me rooted in place, Xaden’s eyes flicking over to mine again once more before he goes back to brooding. 

The shadows around me seem to come to life, curling around my ankles like tendrils, their touch cold and almost tangible. There’s a light pressure at the back of my legs, an insistent nudge that makes me take a wobbly step forwards. My breath catching in my throat as I realise what’s happening—these aren’t just ordinary shadows. They’re Xaden’s. 

I glare at my wingleader instinctively, annoyance flickering in my chest. He’s the only one who could be doing this, the one manipulating the shadows to push me out of the safety of the darkness where I’ve been hiding. His eyes meet mine briefly, and there’s a knowing look in them, an acknowledgment of what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything, though, just tilts his head slightly as if to say, You know this is for your own good.

Draighan chuffs in the back of my mind as if agreeing with Xaden’s silent comment, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and agreement as he tells me You need rest, and you know who can give it to you. His presence is warm, comforting, but it doesn’t take away the frustration bubbling inside me. Xaden and Draighan unknowingly conspiring against me. 

With a resigned sigh, I continue to shuffle forwards, my movements somewhat sluggish and uncertain—things you don’t want for a dragon rider. Every step feels heavier than the last, and I hesitate again, my body instinctively trying to resit the pull. But I can feel Xaden’s eyes boring holes into the side of my head, a silent pressure that refuses to elm me retreat. It’s as if his gaze alone is propelling my forwards, leaving me no choice but to keep moving until I find myself standing next to the group of boys. 

Ridoc glances up at me, a mischievous grin on his face which would have me worried if it were anyone else but Ridoc as he asks, “You joining us?” His tone is light, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes, like he’s surprised I’ve wandered over to them and not Violet. 

I just nod, the motion feeling more like a reflex than a conscious decision. Without saying a word, I sink down the wall, near Sawyer and a few steps away from Liam, close enough to feel the warmth of Liam’s presence but far enough that I don’t feel complexly exposed. 

The golden evening light streams into the training room, casting a warm, ethereal glow over everything it touches. Liam sits bathed in that light, his soft light-blond hair catching the glow, making him look almost ethereal. His tall, muscular frame, as built as Dain, is relaxed as he fiddles with a dagger, the blade catching the light as it twirls effortlessly between his fingers. His blue eyes are focused on the conversation, a soft, thoughtful expression on his face as he listens to the banter around him. There’s a rugged handsomeness to him, emphasised by the prominent nose and the sprawling rebellion relic that begins at his wrist and disappears under the sleeve of his tunic. When he smiles, a dimple appears, adding a touch of warmth to his otherwise stoic demeanour.

My heart tightens in my chest as I watch him. He looks like he belongs in this light, like the strength and calmness of it are just extensions of who he is. There’s a quiet confidence about him that draws me in, and I can’t help but feel my crush on him swell, massive and overwhelming. I’m head over heels for him, and it’s a feeling that terrifies me as much as it thrills me. 

Draighan’s presence in my mind is a steady, reassuring hum, bolstering my resolve. I scoot closer to Liam, my movements slow and deliberate as I inch toward him. My heart races as I reach out, nudging his right arm from his lap. He looks down at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything as I lay my head down where his arm once rested.

I tense, my whole body stiffening in anticipation of some kind of backlash or teasing comment. I’m ready for Ridoc’s sharp wit, for Sawyer’s playful jabs, or even for Liam to shift uncomfortably and pull away. But none of that happens. Instead, there’s a beat of silence, and then I feel Liam’s hand find its way into my hair. His fingers are gentle, tentative at first, before they start to move in slow, soothing strokes.

Liam's fingers begin to move through my hair, the touch light and careful, as though he’s afraid of hurting me. He smooths out the knots with practiced ease, each motion gentle yet firm. The tension I’ve been holding in my scalp and neck gradually starts to dissolve under his deft touch, the soothing strokes lulling me into a state of relaxation I haven’t felt in days.

As his hand continues to comb through my hair, he leans forward slightly, tilting my head to the side so that our eyes meet. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and alert, soften as they take in the exhaustion written across my face. There’s a quiet understanding in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of how tired I am, how much I need this moment of comfort.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and tender. “Sleep.”

The warmth in his tone wraps around me like a blanket, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the noise of the room, the worries in my mind. It’s just him, his voice, and the steady rhythm of his fingers in my hair. He lets go of my face, leaning back against the wall as he continues his soothing ministrations. Before he settles, though, his fingers briefly brush against my cheek, a tender gesture that sends a warmth spreading through my chest. Then, his hand returns to my hair, the steady, rhythmic strokes coaxing me closer to the edge of sleep.

As I begin to drift, I catch Ridoc’s eyes from across the room. He’s been watching quietly, his playful demeanour momentarily subdued. He mouths a single word at me, a question: Nightmares?

I nod once, softly, the motion barely perceptible. It’s all I can manage in my state of exhaustion, but it’s enough. Ridoc’s gaze softens in understanding before he turns back to his banter with Sawyer, Bodhi, and Garrick, picking up the conversation where he left off.

The world around me fades into the background as Liam’s fingers continue to move through my hair, the gentle rhythm pulling me closer to sleep. Draighan’s presence hums softly in the back of my mind, a comforting reminder that I’m safe, that I can finally let go. My breathing slows, and before long, I succumb to the exhaustion, my body sinking into the warmth and comfort of Liam’s lap.

————

I slowly drift back into consciousness, the heaviness of sleep gradually lifting as awareness returns. The first thing I notice is the softness beneath my head—a pillow, not the comforting firmness of Liam’s lap where I last remember resting. I shift slightly, feeling the warmth of a blanket draped over me, its weight soothing against the cool air of the room. There’s another weight too, heavier and more solid, resting across my waist. It takes me a moment to realize it’s an arm, strong and steady, holding me close.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. The training room is gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through a small window. The familiar scent of leather and something distinctly Liam fills my senses, grounding me as I take in my surroundings. I’m not in the dorms, not in my own bed. My heart skips a beat as the realisation sinks in—I’m in Liam’s bed.

I take a slow, deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of the warm body behind me. His presence is solid, comforting, and undeniably familiar. The heat of his body seeps into my back, and for a moment, I just lie there, processing the unexpected but welcome reality of where I am.

Carefully, I roll over, shifting beneath the weight of his arm until I’m facing him. The room is quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of the blanket and the steady rhythm of Liam’s breathing. My eyes trace his features, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. His spiky blond hair is tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead. His sharp, blue eyes are hidden behind closed lids, their intensity softened by the calmness of slumber. His prominent nose and the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline give him a rugged look, but there’s a gentleness to him now, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

As I lie there, taking in every detail of Liam's serene face, I feel an overwhelming tenderness swell in my chest. His usually intense blue eyes are softened by sleep, his features relaxed in a way I rarely get to see. I can’t help myself—I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his jawline, just where the faint shadow of stubble begins. His skin is warm and slightly rough beneath my lips, the contact filling me with a quiet sense of intimacy.

The soft press of my lips causes him to stir, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. For a moment, he looks disoriented, but then his gaze finds mine, and a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"How'd you sleep?" he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

I begin to answer, my voice still soft and laced with the remnants of sleep, "Better than I have in days—" But before I can finish, I notice his eyes flick down to my lips, lingering there for just a heartbeat before he moves.

In a fluid motion, Liam closes the small distance between us, capturing my lips in a kiss that feels like the culmination of something we’ve both been wanting for far too long. His lips are warm and firm against mine, moving with a gentle urgency that takes my breath away. His hand, still resting on my waist, tightens slightly, pulling me closer as if he needs to make sure I’m real, that this moment is real.

The kiss is slow and tender, but there’s a depth to it that speaks of unspoken emotions, of the comfort we find in each other. His thumb brushes over my cheek as he deepens the kiss, his touch both loving and reverent. I lose myself in the sensation, in the way his lips mold perfectly to mine, in the way his warmth seeps into every corner of my being. It feels like coming home, like finding a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing.

When we finally part, it’s with a shared breath, both of us a little dazed but undeniably content. His forehead rests gently against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

"Maybe we should get a little more sleep," he whispers, his voice a soft murmur that makes my heart flutter. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, one that I can’t help but return.

"Yeah," I agree, my own voice barely more than a sigh as I shift closer, tucking myself against his bare chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear is a comforting rhythm, lulling me back toward sleep. His arm wraps securely around me, holding me close as his other hand continues its soothing motions, tracing gentle patterns along my back.

As I drift off, the warmth of his body enveloping me and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my head, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace. With Liam holding me close, sleep comes easily, and I let myself surrender to it, knowing that for now, everything is exactly as it should be.

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

[partoffantasy]

Fool's Heart (Part 1) - Liam Mairi

⸻ image credits to mybookishdoodles ⸻

summary: reader has always brushed off Liam’s flirting, knowing he never stays with one girl for long—but when she finally admits to herself that she wants more, she finds him with someone else. Heartbroken, she avoids him until he confronts her.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: angst word count: 1.8k

Part 2: Click here

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Y/N sat on her bed, staring blankly at the stone wall across from her, her mind a tangled mess of emotions. She hadn't meant for this to happen. Falling for Liam Mairi was never part of the plan. He was a flirt, a charmer, someone who never stuck with one girl for long. And yet, here she was, her chest tightening at the thought of him with someone else.

Y/N had never cared about Liam’s reputation. At least, that’s what she told herself. He was the golden boy of their squad—brilliant in battle, effortlessly charming, and infuriatingly attractive. But he was also a flirt, one who never lacked new romances. Twice a week, without fail, another girl would slip into his room, and twice a week, Y/N would bury herself under her blanket, pretending she couldn’t hear the muffled giggles or the sound of a door shutting a room away.

Earlier that day, they had been in the training yard, catching their breath after sparring. Liam leaned against the wooden post, his shirt damp with sweat, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "You know, Y/N, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you like what you see." Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Liam, I could be blindfolded and still land a hit on you. Maybe focus on your footwork instead of flirting?"

Liam let out a dramatic sigh, pushing off the post to step closer. "You wound me, truly. Here I am, offering you the privilege of my undivided attention, and you just throw it away." She smirked, shaking her head. "Undivided? You were flirting with that second-year cadet not even five minutes ago." Liam chuckled. "Jealous?" Y/N scoffed, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Please. I just think it’s funny that you recycle the same lines. You should at least try to be original."

His grin widened. "Oh, but I am. See, the thing is, none of them get the same treatment as you.” She felt her stomach flip at his words but masked it with an unimpressed expression. "So, what you’re saying is, I’m special?" Liam leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "Very." Y/N stared at him for a beat before shoving him again. "Go shower, Mairi. You stink." His laughter echoed as she turned on her heel and walked away, but she couldn’t shake the warmth spreading in her chest.

A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. "Y/N? You in there?" Violet’s voice was gentle, but firm. Y/N hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, come in." Violet stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She took one look at Y/N’s expression and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, spill." Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face. "It’s nothing." Violet snorted. "Bullshit. You've been weird around Liam for weeks. And before you say anything, I've seen the way you look at him. What’s going on?"

Y/N bit her lip, hesitating. Then, before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out. "I think—I know—I have feelings for him. And it’s driving me insane because he’s Liam. He’s never serious about anyone." Violet nodded slowly, as if she had already known. "What changed? You guys have always been close, but something’s different now." Y/N exhaled sharply, her mind flooding with memories. "It’s always been there, I think, but I just ignored it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it because I knew it wouldn’t matter. He flirts with everyone. But lately... lately it’s been different."

Violet crossed her arms. "How so?" Y/N let out a humorless laugh. "It’s the little things. The way he always makes sure I have my favorite seat at the table. How he somehow remembers the exact way I take my tea, even though I only drink it when I’m sick. The way he teases me, but it’s never too much. He always knows when to stop, when to be serious."

She swallowed hard before continuing. "A few weeks ago, I was freezing after drills, and he just—he just wrapped his jacket around me without saying a word. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, didn’t expect anything in return. And then there was that night after sparring when I was exhausted, and he just sat with me in the common room, letting me rant about how much I sucked. He told me I was strong, that I was getting better. He said he believed in me." Y/N let out a shaky breath. "It’s stupid. I’m being stupid. He is just a friend."

Violet shook her head. "It’s not stupid, Y/N." "It is," Y/N insisted. "Because at the end of the day, he still has a different girl in his bed every other night. And I’m just another cadet in his squad." Violet studied her best friend for a moment before sighing. "Look, I won’t pretend to know exactly what’s going on in Liam’s head, but I do know one thing—he cares about you. I see it. We all see it. And maybe, just maybe, he’s been waiting for you to see it, too."

Y/N shook her head. "And what if he hasn’t? What if I go to him and he laughs in my face? Or worse, what if he doesn’t even care?" Violet grabbed Y/N’s hand, squeezing it. "You’ll never know unless you try." Y/N hesitated, her heart hammering in her chest. And then, with a deep breath, she stood. "Okay. I’m going to talk to him."

By talking to Violet, she had found the courage to do something about it. To go to him. To knock on his door and tell him that she—The sight of him stopped her cold. Liam was leaning against his doorway, shirtless, his pale skin illuminated by the flickering hallway torches. And in front of him, pressed against his chest, was a girl.

Blonde, beautiful, draped in nothing but one of his shirts. His hands rested on her waist, his head dipping close as he whispered something that made her giggle softly. Y/N’s stomach twisted violently. She should move. She should run. But her legs refused to work. All she could do was stand there, helpless, as Liam’s lips found the girl’s neck, as she curled into him, as his door clicked shut behind them. And just like that, everything shattered.

A sharp inhale burned her lungs. She pressed her fingers against the cold stone wall, willing herself to breathe, to stay upright. But it was impossible, because the truth had never been clearer. It had never been her. Not really. She had let herself believe in something that was never hers to have. That she was somehow different. That the way he looked at her meant something. That she wasn’t just another girl who could be so easily forgotten in the morning.

Gods, she was an idiot. A broken laugh escaped her lips, bitter and self-deprecating. Of course this was how it would end. Of course she would be the fool who thought Liam Mairi could be anything other than what he was. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned on her heel, her vision blurring as she walked away. She would be fine. Eventually. But tonight, she let herself grieve the fantasy she had so stupidly let herself believe in.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Y/N spent the next week and a half avoiding Liam like the plague. She skipped meals when she knew he’d be in the dining hall, trained at odd hours to avoid crossing paths, and stuck close to Violet or Rhi whenever she had to be in the same room as him. But it was impossible to avoid him forever, especially when they were in the same squad. 

Liam noticed. At first, she thought he might not. He had enough distractions—flirtations, fights, responsibilities—to keep him occupied. But by the end of the second week, it was clear he had run out of patience. His stares had become more pointed, his usual teasing remarks absent, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

That evening, as she tried to slip out of the training hall before he could catch her, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, but she forced herself to stay rigid, unreadable. “Alright,” Liam’s voice was low, rough, tinged with irritation. “What the hell is going on?” Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she turned to face him. His piercing blue eyes bore into hers, full of confusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t name. Her pulse pounded, her instincts screaming at her to run, but his grip on her wrist—firm, steady—held her in place.

“Nothing,” she muttered, attempting to tug her hand away. He didn’t let go. “Bullshit.” His voice sharpened, his brows drawing together. “You’ve been avoiding me for days—weeks, actually. You barely look at me, you leave the second I walk into a room, and don’t even try to deny it because I see it every damn time. You won’t even spar with me anymore. What did I do?” His voice softened just slightly at the end, the frustration laced with something dangerously close to hurt, and that nearly broke her. But she refused to let him see how much this was tearing her apart.

Y/N clenched her jaw, anger bubbling up—not at him, but at herself. Anger for feeling this way. Anger for thinking she had been special. Anger for hoping. “You didn’t do anything, Liam,” she snapped, her own voice betraying the turmoil inside her. “That’s the problem.” His brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly as he tried to piece her words together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head. “It means I’m an idiot,” she bit out, her chest tightening with every word. “It means I let myself think—just for a second—that maybe you were different with me. That maybe I actually meant something to you.” Liam’s grip on her wrist slackened slightly, his expression shifting from frustration to something raw—something she couldn’t bear to see.

“Y/N—” “I saw you,” she cut him off, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. “That night. With that girl. And I felt like a fucking idiot because I actually thought—” She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head at herself. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Liam’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. And that silence, that hesitation, was worse than anything he could have said.

Her throat burned as she swallowed against the lump forming there. “I have feelings for you, Liam,” she admitted, the words barely more than a whisper. “And I hate myself for it.” Then, before he could say anything, before he could see the tears welling in her eyes, she yanked her wrist free and turned away, walking off before the weight of her own words could crush her completely.

Part 2: Click here

[mysterious-adventurer]

I'd Never Forgive Myself - Liam Mairi x Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! I just finished reading Fourth Wing and I was absolutely devastated by what happened to Liam. Naturally I had to write a fix it fic. The reader's dragon's name is Silah, I picture her as a blue swordtail but feel free to picture her as your favorite dragon. I hope you enjoy reading this!

Summary: At the Battle of Resson y/n realizes that Liam's life is in danger and makes a risky decision to save him. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Please do not repost.

TW: Descriptions of battle.

My heart is pounding in my chest. Liam is hanging onto Tairn for dear life and Deigh is fighting for his against the wyvern that is trying to tear him to shreds. Deigh isn't winning this fight, and he doesn't stand a chance on his own. I can see the moment Violet realizes that Liam's life is in danger. I see her urge Tairn to fly faster, but they aren't close enough, they'll never reach Deigh in time. But I'm closer, Silah and I can make it, I know we can. We have to because I can't lose Liam. Not before I've worked up the courage to tell him - no, not going there. With all of my focus on saving Liam, I feel a rush a magic as a vision takes over. I see myself getting as close the wyvern as possible and then leaping from Silah's back onto the wyvern, I see myself plunging my sword into the weak spot between two scales at the base of its neck. Then, I'm pulled back to the present. I know how to save Liam's life; I just have no clue what it will cost me. 

        "y/n! Don't even think about it! You're going to get yourself killed!" Silah roars in my mind. 

        "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Liam die when I can save him! I'd never be able to forgive myself."  

        "There has to be another way!"

        "You and I both know there isn't" I stand as Silah gets closer to the wyvern preparing myself for the leap. Silah growls unhappily but says nothing else. As ruthless as she is, she has learned that I am every bit as stubborn and that there is no stopping me once I've made up my mind. Then, just at the ideal moment, the one I saw in my vision I leap from Silah's back onto the wyvern. 

        The wyvern screeches angrily in response but does not tear its focus from Deigh. I can feel that the magic controlling it is so strong that it cannot abandon its mission to toss me off its back, even though it wants to. I try my best to balance carefully and move as quickly as possible up the wyvern's back to reach its neck. The vulnerable spot is exactly where I knew it would be. A small gap between two scales where the base of the wyvern's neck meets its back. Under normal circumstances I might not have paid any attention to it, but right now I know that this small chink is about to change everything. I can see Deigh struggling more and more with each passing second. I draw my sword and drive it down into the wyvern with all my might. The creature lets out a horrendous screech but lets go of Deigh. I see him land safely nearby as he begins healing his wounds with magic. The wyvern tosses its head back attempting to snap at me as it shifts its full focus onto killing me. When it realizes it can't reach me that way it bucks violently and then I am weightless. 

        I feel myself plummeting towards the ground at an alarming speed and I know that I am going to die. At least Liam will be alright I think to myself as I close my eyes and try to accept my fate. Then my fall is broken suddenly, jarring every joint in my body. I hear the beat of wings above me and then nothing...

-Later-

        When I come to again, I'm lying in a warm, comfortable bed. I slowly blink the blurriness out of my eyes in an attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming in from the other side of the unfamiliar room. I sit up trying to get my bearings. 

        "You're awake"

        I turn to see Liam as he stands from a chair beside my bed. Without hesitation I launch myself out of the bed and into his arms.

        "Liam! Are you okay?" for just a moment he holds me close to his chest, but then to my surprise he pushes me away. 

        "I'm fine, but what the hell were you thinking y/n?" his eyes are clouded with emotion, but his voice is heavy with anger and the muscles in his jaw are tense. I've never seen Liam angry with anyone before. 

        "That wyvern was going to kill Deigh and if he had died, you would've too, I couldn't just stand by and let that happen."

        "I'm grateful, but I don't ever want you to risk your life for me again." 

        "Liam, I don't understand why you're so upset," for a moment we just stand there, inches apart, staring at each other, tension crackling like electricity between us. Then, Liam grabs my face and kisses me - hard. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his short cropped blonde hair as I deepen the kiss. It should be impossible, but in that one kiss I can feel all of the pent-up emotions and unspoken words we've both carried with us for months. 

        The kiss seems to last forever, both of us lost in each other, in what we've been holding back from, but finally we break apart our chests heaving. Liam rests his forehead against mine and his eyes are soft now filled with adoration. 

       "If anything, ever happened to you y/n, I'd never forgive myself. Please don't scare me like that again."

        "Please don't give me a reason to." 

His lips are on mine again, gentler this time, less urgent as we both savor what we thought we'd lost forever. 

[ervotica]

warnings; major character death (but not rly!!), r and liam are tethered like violet & xaden, not a real fic or anything jus a daydream i've been having about my angel liam. shhh ik it doesn't make sense but idgaf it was fun.

liam who survived.

liam who's been healing in aretia since fighting the venin, since his close call with death; liam who's been too weak to do anything, really, until deigh finally started to heal, too.

you, who's dragon and his are mated. and losing him and deigh nearly cost you both your lives, too.

the second you step through the threshold of the riorson house, the bond that's left a gaping wound in your heart in its absence seems to ignite, clicking back into place in your head.

you can feel him.

your heart leaps into your throat; xaden winces when you turn on your heel to watch him, panic etched into every crevice of your expression.

"where is he?" you're quiet, brows pushing a crease into your forehead when xaden reaches for your hands, holding you steady. your whole body thrums with nervous energy.

"i need you to understand that i couldn't tell you. for both of your safety-" he starts.

"xaden, i don't care," you cut him short with a scathing glare. "where is he?"

you ground yourself, focusing every ounce of energy into the newly reinstated bond; you imagine reaching through the tether that runs between the two of you, and you speak through it.

"liam?"

his voice fills your ears, deep and gravelly but unmistakably him, and tears crowd your vision, catching on your itching waterline.

"hi, my girl."

you rush to turn the corner down to the vast hallway, and a disheveled mop of blond you're all too familiar with draws your gaze.

you're frozen, muscles locked tight where you stand, fixated by the sight of the boy you've been grieving, aching for, standing just a few feet away.

his arms outstretch and he takes a step towards you, and you break. a sob seizes you, arms curling around yourself in some semblance of self soothing.

"come here," he croaks. "c'mere, baby."

you rush in a surge of frenzied limbs, colliding with his chest with an audible thump; he stumbles back a step, but plants himself to accommodate you clinging, white-knuckled, to his midriff.

the way you squeeze him makes his heart ache, the guilt of hiding from you slapping him in the face full force. your balmy cheek rubs against his shoulder, nose scrunching in the way he's always found terribly endearing- except the silent sobs that wrack your body contort your features, and you tremble under his touch.

"why would you do that?" you whisper, but even through the bite of your words, your iron grip never lets up. you're terrified that he'll disappear from beneath you. "it almost killed us, liam."

he pulls back to look at you and your chin plants against his chest to gaze up at him through heavy lashes, weighed down and kissing at the corners. his thumb catches a stray tear, brushing it across the length of your cheekbone before he leans down to press a kiss between your brows.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs. "i know i should've told you." his thick bicep wraps around the back of your neck, anchoring you to his chest.

"i kept tryin' to get her to eat and she wouldn't, li. and the bond was so weak. it nearly took us both down with you."

"shh, shh," he soothes. "i'm so sorry, my girl."

you slap feebly at his chest, no real force behind it as you sniffle, swollen eyes watching his every move.

"you ever do some shit like this again and i'll kill you myself, mairi."

dimples crater at the centre of his cheeks, his eyes crinkling when he laughs down at you, deep and earnest.

"i love you so much."

[theseinfernalangels]

Of Mage Lights and Memory - Liam Mairi

Includes: Angst. I miss my man. Takes place right after Fourth Wing.

The mage lights in your room usually illuminated the space with a warm, orangey glow that felt reminiscent of sunset — a time you usually spent nestled in Liam’s arms, ignoring all of the homework carefully laid out in front of you. It lit up his icy blue eyes in a way that made them look softer, if that was even possible, as if just being in the same room as you was enough to strip back every layer of protection he’d built for himself ever since he’d lost the people who meant most to him.

     The lights usually reflected your mutual content — warm, rosy, and soft. But tonight, they radiate a gentle blue — Liam’s blue — and you are completely and utterly alone.

     You feel dull, like a knife stabbed into wood one too many times. Every once in a while, you think you feel the ghost of a light touch on you — a steady hand on your shoulder, a brush on your waist, a thumb scarred from whittling wiping insistently at the tears that can’t seem to stop falling from your lashes. They filled you with fickle hope and then drained you from the inside out all over again. It was cruel. It was so, so cruel. But it also made you more fearful. If you brushed it away, you’d soon forget how he feels — how he felt. If you allow yourself to revel in it, though, the pain of remembrance would stab at you from the inside out.

     You glance down at the little figure in your hands, turning it and memorizing the wooden texture that Liam had worked so hard on. It had only been two weeks ago (which, in retrospect, felt like two hundred years) when he’d told you to close your eyes and hold out your hands, placing the small figure — a little wooden flower — in your palm.

     “It’s phlox,” he’d said with a nervous smile. “I thought you would like that.”

     You’d stared at the little piece of wood, turning it in your fingers to get a good look at it in the light. 

     “This is…stunning,” you had said, your voice filled with awe. “Can…Does it mean something? The flower, I mean.”

     Liam brushed his hair away from his eyes, nodding. “Mhm. When I was younger, my mom told me all about the language of flowers. You could tell someone anything if you picked the right kind, send messages and stuff.”

     You nod, brushing your thumb over one of the smooth wooden petals. “What does phlox mean, then?”

     He met your eyes with a sudden softness, blinking down fondly at you.

     “Those are my favorite,” he told you. “It means our souls are united.”

     At the time, it felt so right for the both of you. Now, it felt like a sick joke. 

     Your souls were united; except one of you had been yanked into the cold embrace of no return, and the other was left to pick up the pieces.

     You felt like something had been snuffed out in you, like a candlewick too worn to be lit properly. There was only one person who could reignite you, and he was stolen from you before he could even reach for your wick.

     Damn you, Malek. Damn you, damn you, damn you.

     You twist your wrist and summon another soft mage light in front of you, holding up the little wooden phlox flower in the light. If you squinted hard enough, you could imagine that the pretty little figure — “It means our souls are united” — was the same color as Liam’s eyes.

      You smile wistfully, swallow the lump in your throat, and close your eyes, letting yourself drown in the bright, brilliant blue of the beautiful soul wrenched away from you all too soon.

[saintsanddevils]

Unravel Me

Liam Mairi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Grief is your constant companion as you struggle to come to terms with losing Liam. You can’t handle the memories, so you ask Imogen to take them away.

Warnings: ‼️18+ (MDNI) explicit content‼️, smut, grief, death, blood, some violence, angst, ALL HURT/no comfort, first person reader pov

Author’s Note: This is probably my fav story I’ve written so far! Liam is my favorite of all of the Fourth Wing men & I’ve been dying to write this for so long. - also, every person who has checked in on me about burnout, thank you, you’re incredibly kind & I appreciate all the love!!

Word Count: 8.6K

AO3 link

Masterlist

• • • •

The stone archway is the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the ground. I lay my back against it, trying to keep myself standing. Breaths saw through my lungs in jagged, sharp inhales. A knife cutting through me from the inside out.

Storm clouds form in the sky above, ominous in the setting sun. The smell of wet stone and soil fills the air as I try to still my racing heart.

It’s been one month.

One month.

Four weeks.

Thirty days.

Seven hundred and twenty-two hours and counting since Liam has been gone.

Knees shaking, I close my eyes, breathing deeply. But the breaths come quicker and faster. The image of Liam’s broken, bloody face surfacing unbidden. The way his blue eyes frosted over before closing, his skin cracked and pale as he slumped against Deigh’s red scales.

Rough, uneven breaths escape me. Thunder rumbles the ground beneath my feet, the summer air chilled by the cool of rain. Each breath clouds around me as I stand beneath an arch, facing the open courtyard.

The very courtyard where I first met Liam.

I remember the way his eyes lit with a teasing gleam when they first met mine. He was playful, flirtatious, but his eyes captured me. Like crystal glass, filled with murky seawater shining in the sunlight. I’d never seen such a blue.

The memory stings, sharp and insistent with its presence. Since his death, I’ve been left with nothing but every memory I have of him. Each one imprinted upon me, unique and shining. How he smiled, fully and entirely intoxicating, when I entered the room. The way his skin glided against mine between sheets. The feel of his calloused hand gripping my own. His lips coasting mine, teasing, before claiming them for his own, stealing the breath in my lungs.

Every day since his death has been my own personal hell. Waking up, alone, forms a hollow ache within my chest that grows with every second. I never want to leave my bed.

For the first week, everyone grieved alongside me. But we’re in the middle of a war. We can’t waste any time.

Only the pestering of my squad mates and the force behind my dragon’s insistent encouragement force me out of my room now. Although they try to hide it, they’re concerned for me. I act like I can’t feel their penetrating gazes, but it’s suffocating.

Every day is suffocating.

Distantly, I hear someone call my name. With my eyes closed, I can pretend I’m not here. I can pretend he’s alive. I can pretend I will find him standing before me, smiling, when I open my eyes. That he’ll tell me I worry too much and he’ll kiss the rain from my cheeks and lips.

When I open my eyes, it’s not him standing there. It’s Imogen.

Concern lines her face as she stares at me. “I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

Tears burn my eyes as the rain begins to fall harder. Overcome by a heaviness crushing my ribs, my knees start to shake. I can’t tell if I’m holding on to the wall or if it’s the one keeping me up.

“Please,” I beg, voice cracking. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wake up tomorrow with this pain,” I grip my chest, swallowing the grief threatening to choke me. “It’s like a living, breathing thing inside of me. It’s poisoning me. I…I can’t do it anymore.”

Sobs escape from my lips, gasping and heaving. I must sound like a tortured animal as I collapse to the ground, cracking my knees against the stone. The pain grounds me as I slump against the wall.

This pressure on my chest, the one that settled there as I watched Liam limp towards Deigh a month ago, is stifling me. It’s growing more and more, crushing my lungs, severing my breaths as I cling to the stone beneath my fingers.

I completely forget Imogen until she’s stepping towards me. She watches the tears fall from my eyes, shared sorrow evident in her posture. She, too, knew Liam well. They all did. It wasn’t just me who lost him.

But she knows what he was to me. What I was to him.

I don’t know what convinces her. Maybe it’s the tears. Maybe it’s my pathetic whimpers. Or maybe it’s the hollow look in my eyes as grief consumes me. All I know is she’s staring at me with concern and hesitant understanding. And I cling to that like a lifeline.

“Okay,” her voice sobers me from my tears.

A shaky breath. Another.

“Really?” My whisper is broken in the space between us.

She nods slowly. “I’ll do it. But you have to know what you’re asking me to do.”

I nod back, aware of her hands as they clench and unclench at her sides.

The idea came to me last week when a cadet mocked Violet about losing her “guard dog”. Violet flinched and, suddenly, there he was. Xaden was a feral, untamed thing as he hurled himself at the cadet.

It should’ve been me. I should’ve hurt that dumbass cadet. I wish it had been me as I watched Xaden deliver blow after blow on the cadet before being thrown back by Garrick. My knees and hands were shaking as I watched him be crowded against the wall, restrained as the injured cadet ran down the hall like a fucking coward.

Grief is something that’s different for everyone. I think the only person who knew an ounce of what I felt was Xaden. He lost not only a friend but a brother. He loved him.

And as I stood there, staring as Violet calmed Xaden, I had known this grief would pass for him. It would haunt him forever, but it would scar over. He would heal because he had Violet. He had Garrick and Imogen and Bodhi.

I had Liam.

A steadiness settles in me as I meet her gaze. “I know what I’m asking.”

She closes her eyes, briefly, as if debating if this is worth the risk, before raising her hands towards me.

“You need to stay perfectly still,” she instructs, kneeling before me. “I’m not going to lie to you. This will hurt like hell, but the pain won’t last long. It should fade, along with the memories you want me to erase.”

I nod as trepidation and nerves slowly creep up my spine, causing my hands to shake. I clench them, steeling myself. Forcing determination to settle on my shoulders.

Imogen settles herself before me, waiting for my signal before touching the skin of my temples. The pink of her hair is darker in the low lighting, thunder gradually fading in the distance as rain continues to fall.

“Are you sure?” She asks, voice hesitant.

A flash of Liam’s smile has my gut twisting. Liam used to say that love was something he never thought would happen to him. That love was a fairytale.

After almost a year of being together, he whispered with shaky breaths, “I’ve never loved someone like I love you. You’re the other half of something I didn’t know was missing. Something so tied within me, I feel you always.”

I’d gripped him tightly, clinging to him as I kissed his collarbone, neck, all the way up to his jaw. “I feel you, too.”

He shook his head, lips brushing my ear. “Don’t you think it’s terrifying that at any moment, it could be gone? I could lose you?”

I’d given him reassurances. False promises.

I didn’t know I’d lose him so soon. I didn’t know loving him would become a curse.

Wanting something I can’t ever have again will kill me. I can’t do it anymore.

“Yes,” I answer Imogen. “I’m sure.”

She hesitates, only for a moment, before closing her eyes. I close my own, letting the rain wash my doubts away.

Pressure builds behind my eyes, steady and gradual at her fingertips. I can feel her presence in my mind.

“Start from your most recent memory,” she says. “And slowly go further and further until you reach the oldest one.”

I pause, my heart racing frantically in my chest as I immediately recall the last time I saw Liam.

“No!” I scream, but it’s too late.

Deigh slumps to the ground, motionless.

Blood drips from my hands as I run towards Liam, whose eyes meet mine in wide panic. I watch him stagger forward, limping, before collapsing to the dirt.

I’m there, holding him up as his body begins to slump. Xaden appears, helping me, but I barely glance at him. My entire focus is on Liam’s shallow breathing.

“Take me to him,” he whispers roughly, chest rising and falling jaggedly.

We help bring Liam to Deigh. My shaking hands cling to him as we settle him against the red scales of his dragon. Xaden lingers beside me as we both kneel before Liam, whose gaze is fixed on his friend.

“You’re the brother I’ve always wanted,” he smiles. “Don’t forget where you came from. Who you are, and who you’ll become.”

Tears well in Xaden’s eyes as he nods.

I feel like I’m intruding on a moment between them, but I can’t bring myself to leave Liam’s side.

“I-“ he swallows, gaze fixated on Violet behind us. “I hope I did enough-“

“You did,” Xaden smiles, tears now falling down his cheeks. “You did everything you could and more.”

Liam nods, tears in his own eyes. Xaden leans forward to hold him, one last time.

Liam mumbles something to him I can’t hear before Xaden backs away, back towards Violet. I catch Xaden looking at me, guilt written across his features, but I don’t acknowledge it. I can’t waste any second we have left.

Liam finally, finally, meets my gaze. His jaw clenches as he watches the tears streaming down my skin. His fingers reach up, wiping them away. I lean into his hand on instinct, forcing myself to memorize the way his calloused skin feels against mine.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” I whisper.

Liam’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then don’t.”

He pulls me forward, kissing me with his last breaths. I don’t hesitate. I kiss him with every fiber of my being, knowing I won’t have this for much longer. The feel of his lips will stay with me until I, too, meet Malek at the end of this life. Where I hope he waits for me.

When we part, I lean my forehead against his, breaths sawing through me like a serrated knife’s edge.

“I-I can’t lose you,” I gasp.

His skin is pale, almost gray-tinted, as his fingers softly touch my cheek. “You won’t lose me forever. I’ll see you again.”

A sob escapes my lips before I kiss him again. “I love you. Always.”

Liam’s smile is full of sorrow as he kisses me back. “I’ll love you beyond my last breath,” he whispers against my lips.

His fingers suddenly caress the back of my head, tilting my face to look up at him. There’s a severity in his eyes as he stares down at me. “Every moment we have had is something I’ll cherish long after I’m gone. I’ve never felt so lucky,” he kisses the tip of my nose, the top of my cheeks. “Whatever becomes of me, my soul,” a tear falls from his eye as his gaze holds me captive. “I’ll always be with you.”

I turn my head to kiss the palm of his hand. “I’ll always need you.”

“Not always,” he shakes his head. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Live,” his smile is beaming as blood trickles down the side of his head from an open cut, staining his blonde hair. “Live and forget me.”

“But-“

“I want you to grow old, live a full life. Fight to live beyond whatever this war will bring.”

I shake my head. “How am I supposed to forget you? You’re all I have.”

“No, I’m not. You have so much to live for, don’t let me stand in the way of something greater ahead of you.” I try to refute, but Liam silences me with another kiss. “You’re the one thing in my life that’s made all of this worth it. For that, I’m grateful for the time I was given with you.”

A whimper escapes me and Liam holds me, breathing me in.

“I kept my promise.” He kisses me once, twice.

In the space between us, we breathe together. I hold my hand to his chest, feeling the rise and fall. One long, deep, shaky breath, a whisper of my name, and he stills.

Silence crowds around me, choking the air as I weep into the skin of his neck, holding him close. A scream builds in my throat as his body grows cold beneath me. Rage rises like a tidal wave within me, numbing the pain.

They’ll pay. Every last Venin will die for this. For what they took from me.

I’m covered in sweat, blood, and dried tears by the time the sun sets and the Venin are defeated in Athebyne. For now.

Flames reach towards the sky, flickering and grasping for the stars. I grip my sword, Liam’s sword, tightly in my hand. Blood trickles down my skin across the blade as I stare into the fire.

Liam’s body burns atop the pyre. Ashes scatter in the breeze as everyone stands to watch. We all lived, and it sickens me. We survived, and Liam, the best of us, didn’t.

Bitterness settles next to the grief. It burns like acid in my gut. The last thing I remember is Violet’s hand gripping my own in comfort.

“You’re not alone,” she whispers.

But I am. I’m entirely alone.

The memory is ripped from my grasp, leaving me gasping, heaving, as the ache in my chest burns.

Before I can steady myself, I’m thrown into another.

Arms wrap around my torso, pulling me close to a firm chest as dim light filters through the arched windows.

“Good morning to you, too,” I whisper, groggily.

A breathy chuckle against my spine has my skin prickling. “Morning, love.”

I bask in the warmth of his arms, the feel of his muscles flexing against my skin as he kisses my shoulder. He hums, continuing kissing up my shoulder to my neck, shifting my hair to kiss up my jaw. I shiver, as his fingers trail down my torso to my hips, pulling the hem of my nightdress up my thighs.

“Liam,” I breathe.

I feel him smile against my ear as he nips at it. “Yes, love? Need something?”

His fingers trail up my thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his calloused hand reaches the edge of my underwear, Liam’s lips caress my bottom lip.

I whisper against him, “I need you.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give you,” he smirks before his lips collide with mine.

He kisses me with a lazy, unhurried pace. As if we have all the time in the world.

I shift in his arms, gaining better access to his mouth as I tangle my tongue with his. My fingers dive through his hair as his own slip beneath the lace of my underwear. His skin is warm and rough against me as the tips of his fingers glide across where I want him most.

“Already wet for me, darling?” He growls into my mouth.

I moan as his fingers sink inside me, pumping agonizingly slow. He continues to tease and caress as I melt in his arms. When his thumb rubs smooth circles around my clit, heat begins to prickle at the base of my core. I’m already climbing to my peak, heaving and gasping breaths as he pumps his long, thick fingers in and out, gaining speed the more I moan his name.

“You’re intoxicating,” he groans as he bites my lip. “I fucking love waking up to you like this. Soaked and ready for me.”

A gasp falls from my lips just before he pinches my clit. Light flashes beneath my lids as I cry out, fire blazing up my body as I fall into the rhythm of his fingers. I pulse and squeeze around him as my hands grip onto him tightly. When I come down from my climax, a pounding on the door has me jolting.

“Don’t make me break this fucking door down!” I hear Xaden’s voice yell.

Liam groans, slumping against me. “Shit.”

The bed shifts as he rolls off the bed, covering me with the blankets before throwing open the door.

“What?”

There’s a pause before I hear Xaden’s low chuckle. “Sorry to disrupt your morning, but we have to leave.”

Liam’s shoulders tense. “Now? What happened?”

People are running in the hall, shouts echoing off the walls that force me to sit up, staring in confusion at the chaos.

“Get dressed,” Xaden commands, all amusement gone.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks again.

I can see Xaden’s jaw clench as he stares at his foster brother. “They’re calling us down to the flight field. War Games.”

Liam’s grip on the doorframe whitens his knuckles. “How many minutes do we have?”

Xaden hesitates. “Less than ten, but you need-“

“We’ll meet you on the field.” Liam slams the door shut.

When he turns to me, his eyes are blazing like blue fire. He stalks forward, standing at the edge of our bed. His hands shoot out and drag me to the edge, making me squeal. His fingers tear the lace from me, leaving me bare before him before forcing my legs open. He’s kneeling as I sit up, watching him as he leans forward to lick up my slit in one swift, precise movement. I groan, head falling back as I buck against his unyielding grip.

“But we have to go,” I gasp when he does it once more.

His voice is rough and gravelly as his lips caress my heat. “Guess I have to make every second count.”

The memory fades, like the burning of paper. Ashes scattering in my mind as pain radiates up my spine, throbbing at my temples. I bite my lip to keep myself from screaming as the pressure builds.

My head pounds as I’m thrown further, another memory crashing over me.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” Liam groans against my ear, pumping deep into me. “You’re taking me so well.”

I whine, shifting my hips to meet him with every thrust. He hits inside of me deliciously, stars dancing across my vision as his hands hold my waist, pressing me into the sheets.

An urgency fills us as we stop pacing ourselves and chase that fire slowly burning beneath our skin. It races in our blood as our skin slicks with sweat, breaths gasping.

Liam shifts his hips upward on the next thrust, making me moan into his collarbone.

“Gods, do that again.”

Liam smirks, blue eyes glittering when they meet mine. “As you wish.”

The memory warps, lost to time, as I’m thrown further, again and again, into one memory after another and another.

The mat presses against my cheek as Liam holds me down. I can tell he’s holding back since his weight isn’t entirely crushing me.

That’s a mistake he’ll surely regret.

I twist my legs, elbowing him in the face as I throw my weight onto him. He rolls, falling to the mat as I climb atop him, my elbow pressing into his throat to cut off his air supply. My legs hold his arms down to keep him from moving.

He struggles for a moment, but the shining pride in his eyes is what causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

“I love it when you throw me around,” he chokes out. I raise my elbow slightly to lessen the pressure on his throat.

I chuckle, leaning forward until we’re inches apart. “You like it when I make you do what I want?”

He smiles. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll beg for it.”

Paper crumples in his hand, frustration steeling his jaw as he throws it at the wall.

“Stop,” I say, reaching for his clenched fingers. “Stop blaming yourself. It won’t do anything good.”

His hard eyes meet mine, immediately softening. “I don’t know what to do,” his voice is broken, hushed. “I wish I could find her, hide her, take her as far from this as possible.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “Sloane doesn’t deserve this life.”

Bringing my hand to his cheek, I force him to open his eyes. “You can’t change the future just as you can’t change the past,” I give him a small smile. “She’ll be okay, Liam. She’ll have us.”

Liam’s gaze holds mine as he breathes deeply. We sit there, suspended in time, as he grips me with shaking hands. I know he’s fighting tears as much as he’s fighting the urge to throw a punch at the wall. But with me here, he slowly begins to calm.

When he grabs my hand laying on his cheek, he kisses it. “I guess I should be grateful she’ll finally meet you.”

I smile at the idea. “I hope she likes me.”

He grips me tighter. “She’ll love you. Besides,” he leans forward, inches from me. “She’ll have to since she’ll be putting up with you for a very, very long time.”

I raise a teasing brow. “How long will that be for?”

“If it’s up to me,” he breathes against my lips. “For the rest of our lives.”

The sunset flickers across the horizon over the distant mountains, casting the room in a dim, fading gold light. It refracts off Liam’s eyes, making the blue iridescent, as he smiles against my lips.

“Will you stay?”

I smile back, nipping his bottom lip. “Always.”

“I-I don’t want to wake up alone anymore.” He hesitates, swallowing. “Move in here with me. Share my bed and steal my blankets. Get dressed with me every morning. I don’t want to waste a moment without you next to me. Make this room both of ours.”

Tears gather in my eyes as warmth fills me, settling in my chest.

I kiss him recklessly, leaving us both breathless as I whisper, “Gods, I love you.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

Two cadets with fowl breath and malice in their eyes crowd around me. My heart beats wildly in my throat as I back away. Their hands sharp and insistent as they push me to the corner of the hall. Their hands locked on my wrists to keep me from running.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her.”

The words cut through the air like a knife laced with venom. It startles the men, who bolt upright to turn and see who spoke.

Liam’s face is a mask of fury as he strides down the hall. The second our gazes collide, he unleashes himself on them. He throws a punch at one of their faces, knocking them against the wall. The other, he tackles into the brick, cracking the back of the cadet’s skull. He groans as Liam throws punch after punch, blood spraying, before throwing the man to the ground. The other cadet is there, stumbling forward and hurling himself at Liam.

I scream when I see the flash of a dagger. Liam catches it within seconds. Being the best of our year has its benefits as he twists the blade out of the cadet’s grip and stabs it to the hilt into his arm. The cadet’s eyes widen, blood trickling from his mouth as he screams, falling to the ground.

The other cadet bleeds next to him, panting.

“What the fuck?” He groans.

Liam stands, blood soaking his clenched fists at his sides as he stares them down. “You touched her, tried to hurt her, you even scared her.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to live after that.”

The cadet Liam punched over and over again is now trying to crawl away, but it’s too late. Liam is there, hauling him to his feet and holding him against the wall by his throat.

“Liam,” I whisper, fear rattling my voice.

He stops. Everything stops as he lets go of the cadet and turns to me. He’s there, holding me as he quickly examines every inch of exposed skin.

“Yes, love? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m f-fine,” I step closer to him, cradling his bleeding hands in mine. “Just please get me out of here.”

He nods, not even sparing them a second glance as he whisks me out of the corridor. We walk quickly until we’re outside in a courtyard. Under a stone arch he stops, pressing me against the wall as he holds me close.

“You looked so afraid,” he whispers in my hair. “I-I couldn’t handle it. Did-“ he hesitates. “Did I scare you?”

“You could never scare me,” I hold him tighter as the lingering fear begins to fade. A warmth settling in me from his close proximity. A sense of rightness at the feel of his arms around me.

He pulls back, looking me over once more. “If those fuckers laid a finger on you-“

I smile softly. “You stopped them before it got worse. I’m alright.”

He nods, forehead touching mine in defeat as his shoulders sag, releasing all the pent-up tension inside of him. “If I wasn’t there, if things were worse, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Who I’d become.”

I burrow into him, letting his warmth chase every horrible thought away. “But you didn’t lose me. You won’t.”

Liam shakes his head. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll fight. You’ll fight till your last breath to stay alive, to see the next day. I can’t-“ he swallows. “I couldn’t live knowing I could’ve saved you. But I can’t always be there.”

“You don’t need to be, but I’m grateful you were there today,” I press closer. “I promise to fight and not give up.”

He nods, satisfied. Silence envelops us as the night breeze whistles through the courtyard.

The moon shines on his blue eyes, making them almost silver as he says, “And I promise to fight for you, too. To love you and keep you safe. Till my last breath. You can hold me to that.”

Music floats through the air as Liam holds me close, hands intertwining as he guides me to an alcove covered in shadows. I stifle a laugh as we race through the corridor. We ignore the shouting taunts from Ridoc and Sawyer down the hall as they head back to the party.

Once we’re out of earshot and covered by the dark, Liam presses me against the stone of the alcove. He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are on mine, holding me captive. He’s insistent and intoxicating as he consumes me with just a kiss. He smells of liquor and desire, making me feel lightheaded.

His rough fingers drag the fabric of my dress up as his lips begin to trail down my jaw, neck, and chest. Before I can protest, he’s kneeling, throwing the fabric up to expose my legs to the cool night air.

“Liam!” I whisper-shout. “Someone will see!”

Liam raises a brow. “Then you better keep quiet.”

He grips the back of my leg, tossing it over his shoulder as he disappears beneath my dress. His breath is hot against my skin as he licks up my inner thighs.

I bite back a squeal as he moves my underwear out of the way, fingers toying with my skin.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Liam-“ I’m cut off by the feel of his mouth kissing my heat. His tongue diving deep inside me, causing me to throw a hand over my mouth, stifling a moan. My knees begin to buckle but he holds me in his firm grip, keeping me standing as he continues to twist his tongue deep inside, feasting on me.

I’m delirious with want as he continues to eat me out, thumb caressing my clit lazily. Pleasure spreads up my body, curling around my spine. My hips rock against him, pressure building and building before-

“Liam,” I gasp against my hand as my climax hits me, hard and fast. His fingers and tongue prolong my pulsing as I come all over his mouth. It feels like an eternity before my body gives out, sliding against the stone.

“Gods, I love the way you say my name,” he groans against me. “Especially when I fuck you.”

Liam stands, shifting his hands as I hear the sound of a buckle. Before I can calm my racing heart, he grips my thighs and holds up my legs to wrap firmly around his waist. I obey and immediately suck in a breath. The head of his cock is poised at my soaked entrance.

He suddenly leans forward, surprising me with a kiss on the tip of my nose. My heart swells before he finds my lips, kissing me. It’s consuming, claiming. Leaving me breathless and wanting.

“I love you so much, baby,” he says before pushing into me, stretching me. We moan together, breaths intermixing, as he bottoms out.

Using the wall as leverage, Liam adjusts me so my hips are at the perfect angle, his hands holding my ass firmly before he begins to thrust. My nails dig into his shirt as he hits me just right. This angle allows him to sink deeper and deeper, causing gasps to fall from my lips like whispered secrets.

He stops the sound with his mouth on my own, swallowing my moans. I taste myself on his lips and tongue. It’s incredibly erotic and fills me with immense pleasure as he thrusts harder and harder. I bounce against the stone, clinging to him for dear life as he begins chasing his own pleasure. I’m already climbing with him, breaths sawing through my lungs as I feel myself chasing another orgasm.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos. “You’re incredible.” He hisses as his cock hits me just right. My inner walls fluttering around him as he pumps faster. “Fuck, that feels-“

He groans just as his hips piston into me, wild and untamed as he releases inside of me. I’m right there with him. Like a flower bursting open in the sun, warmth burns through my body at the sensation. I don’t even care if anyone hears us anymore, I’m moaning his name loud enough to echo off the walls as I gyrate against him.

When we both finally come down, we’re twitching and panting, giving one another tired, lazy smiles. Liam towers above me, breathing heavily as he kisses my forehead, my temple, the corner of my mouth.

“Gods, you’re insatiable.”

I laugh before wiggling in his arms, causing his still-hard cock to sink further into me. He moans at the sensation.

“Another round?”

He laughs with me. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” his hands are firm on my wrists as he holds them above my head, trapping them against the cool stone. “As you wish.”

The stars are bright above the flight field as Liam and I lay back in the grass. It prickles the skin of my hands as a breeze flutters over us. The distant sounds of crickets and a nearby river fill the quiet. Both of our dragons lie close by, their sulfuric breathing filling the silence. We’re far away enough from them to feel as though we’re entirely alone.

Liam’s arm is close to mine as we lay, looking up at the constellations.

“What did Ridoc say to you earlier when we were leaving the gym?” I ask quietly. “You seemed annoyed.”

Liam’s breath hitches, his chest stilling. I feel his arm tense as he tries to slowly breathe out, almost like he’s calming himself.

“He, uh, just wanted to know about something.”

That piques my interest. I raise a brow. “About?”

Liam is quiet for a moment. “He wanted to know if you were single.”

“Oh.”

The silence is suddenly suffocating. The presence of our dragons makes this feel incredibly awkward, as if we have an audience. I can feel the weight of my dragon peering at us, like the gossip she is. I ignore her.

I don’t turn to look at Liam as I bite my lower lip. It’s been months of this constant flirtation. Months of tension that’s been building and building but I can’t tell if he’s just incredibly friendly with everyone or actually wanting a relationship with me. It’s driving me crazy.

Liam’s the type of guy who anyone can love and I hate how I’m one of them. How I’ve completely fallen for someone who probably only views me as nothing more than a friend.

A shaky exhale escapes me as I try and compose myself. “What did you say?”

Liam scoffs. “I told him to go ahead and ask you out.”

I startle, eyes wide and heart beating out of my chest as I turn to look over at him only to find he’s already staring at me. There’s a gleam of satisfaction in his eye as he watches my reaction.

Anger rises, sudden and quick. “Did you just say that to see what I’d do?!”

Liam shrugs before winking. “Just making sure you’re not interested in him.”

The anger dies as quick as it arrived. But my heart continues to pound, nerves sparking in my gut. “Why?”

Liam is suddenly leaning close, breath fanning over my face. He smells of mint, earth, and something so familiar, I ache to be closer to him. “I told him to go fuck himself. That you’re mine and he’d end up with a broken nose on that pretty-boy face of his as soon as he even spoke to you.”

My breath catches in my throat, a squeak escaping my lips. Liam’s mouth twitches at the sound.

“Who said I’m yours?” I whisper, unsure and entirely too hopeful for my own good.

Liam’s smile is beaming and brilliant. “You were mine the second you punched Jack in the throat after parapet.”

A laugh bursts out of me, startling the quiet of the night. Liam joins in, but his gaze is heavy and insistent on me.

“He deserved it,” I huff.

“He did,” Liam’s smile is contagious as his fingers move a piece of hair behind my ear, lingering next to my cheek. “But I also knew when you told me I’m just another big asshole at Basgiath,” he winks.

I roll my eyes playfully. “You came on too strong from the second you met me.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t want anyone to steal you away from me before I got the chance to sweep you off your feet.”

I raise a brow. “And did you?”

He lays his hand against my cheek, no more hesitating. “Depends on if you’re truly mine or not.”

I lean into him, eyes closing. “I’ve been yours for a long time, Liam.”

The nighttime breeze wraps us tighter together as he leans in and kisses me. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt his lips on mine and it sends a spark of fire down my body, lighting every nerve like a firework. I’m electrified, lighting up the night sky as he kisses me like something fragile and precious. Something worth having.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

He startles, pushing himself away before he’s suddenly hovering above me. A smile that rivals the brightness of the stars shines on me as he leans down, our noses touching.

“You love me?”

I nod, my nerves fluttering as he reaches out to caress my cheek. I’ve never seen him so soft, so gentle. No one would believe how trusting, caring, and loving he can be. But only I see it. Only with me does he let down his walls.

He’s kissing me again, but this time, he’s no longer holding back. He’s not gentle as he bites my bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth. I moan as his tongue surges into my mouth, claiming me. I’m lost to the feel of him as his hands tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to gain access to my throat.

Against my skin, he whispers. “Gods, I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for so long.” He licks a strip of my skin, biting my pulse, before sucking my clavicle. “Fuck, I love you so damn much, I’ve been going insane with wanting you.”

My breath hitches as his fingers trail beneath my leathers, finding the skin of my hip. He presses me into the grass as he finds his way back to my lips. Kissing me once more.

Time seems to hold its breath as we kiss under the stars, uncaring of what the next day may bring. All we have is this moment, clinging to one another and sighing with relief. I’ve never felt so happy in my entire life as Liam looks down on me with such adoration.

When he suddenly sits back on his knees, I pout up at him. He shakes his head, laughing as he holds his hand out.

“Come with me.”

He pulls me up with him off the grass and starts racing towards the school.

“Where are we going?” I huff, trying to keep up.

Liam’s grip is unwavering as he turns back to look at me. “We only have a few hours till sunrise and I need all the time I can get to show you just how much I love you,” he winks.

Warmth rises up my neck to my cheeks, making him smile wider as he pulls me after him towards Basgiath.

“Is something going on between you and Liam?” Violet asks.

I startle, choking on my drink. Rhiannon snickers as she pats my back, helping me. Once I can breathe, my eyes betray me. I automatically find Liam across the dining hall, talking with Xaden and Garrick. His face is tight with tension and concern as his hands clench beside his plate. When his eyes meet mine, as if he can sense me, the tension is immediately gone. He softens. A smile playing on his mouth as he nods to me, saying good morning.

I nod back, warmth filling my gut before I avoid Violet’s inquisitive stare and go back to eating. “Nothing’s going on.”

Rhiannon snorts. “Sure. And nothing is going on with Violet and Xaden.”

Violet stiffens next to me. “There’s nothing-“

Rhiannon holds up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t fight it, Violet. It’s way too obvious.”

Violet glares at her best friend, causing me to laugh. I catch Liam glancing at us from the sound.

“It’s just as obvious with you two,” Rhiannon presses.

I prickle at their interrogation. “What do you want me to say? We’re just friends.”

Violet shakes her head. “Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.”

I stare at her, brows pinched. “What do you mean?”

Violet glances at Xaden’s table and smiles. “Like that.”

I whip my gaze back to Liam to find him staring. He doesn’t look away when I meet his blue eyes. There’s an underlying intensity in his stare, something heavy and wanting. It leaves me breathless and trapped, wanting more than anything for us to be alone. To finally tell him how I feel. To see if maybe, just maybe, the lingering stares and touches and late-night talks are more than just friendship.

I break away first, staring down at the broccoli on my plate with sorrow climbing its way up my sternum. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Violet throws her hands in the air, clearly exasperated. “Gods, can’t you guys just shut up and make-out already!”

Her voice echoes around the table and I freeze. Closing my eyes, I hope he didn’t just hear her. I hope to every god that can hear me that he isn’t the one whose chair screeched against the floor. That it’s not his booted feet coming towards our table.

“Ladies,” Liam’s deep octave vibrates against my already rattled nerves.

“Oh fuck,” I mumble. I open my eyes to find Liam hovering above me, leaning his hands on the table.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he winks.

I fight the blush rising to my cheeks by curving my nails into my palms. The pain is sharp and helps clear my head.

“Morning,” my voice catches, sounding winded. “Did, uh, you need something?”

I catch Rhiannon smiling at the exchange in my peripheral.

Liam’s hand reaches back to wrap around his neck, showing off the rippling muscles in his bicep as he shrugs. “I was about to head to Battle Brief and wanted to see if you would join me. I mean, since you’re already heading there anyway.”

I nod, butterflies threatening to rise from my gut and fall out of my mouth as I clench my fists beneath the table. His stupid biceps are all I can focus on as his bright blue eyes burn into me.

FOCUS!

I smile. “Yeah, sure,” I turn to Violet and Rhiannon, who are smiling so big and taunting, I want to throw them off the bench. “Are you guys done? Want to head over with us?”

Violet shakes her head. “Oh no, don’t wait up for us. As a matter of fact, I think you’re looking a little chilly though,” she raises a concerned brow. “Do you need my coat or-“

Liam is draping his jacket over my shoulders before she can finish her sentence. I’m startled and staring as his cheeks redden from the attention.

“Ok, we’ll see you guys there,” he holds a hand out to me, waiting.

I turn back to Violet to see a satisfied gleam in her eyes. I glare.

Rhiannon chokes on a laugh as I take his hand, quickly making our way out of the dining hall.

We shove our way through the crowded halls, Liam close by my side as I hold on to his jacket. It’s warm and smells so much like him that I try and resist burrowing my nose into it. Would he think it’s weird if I keep it?

I shrug out of it, not trusting myself or this sudden burst of kleptomania to keep from me stealing it. “Here, I’m not super cold. It’s okay.”

Liam stops me, shoving it back onto my shoulders. “No, I want you to. Besides,” he winks. “You look good in it.”

I hide my blush as we make our way through the crowd once more.

It’s only when we’re at the door to Battle Brief that I realize I’m still holding his hand and he never let go.

Like knotted string, Imogen unravels my mind. Every knot a memory. She pulls and yanks until I’m fraying at the edges. Pain shoots through my veins, burning me from the inside out. A scream slowly builds in my throat as the pain increases to an all-consuming fire.

Just as the pain rises, it falls, like a cresting wave crashing against the shore. And a strange numbing sensation takes over.

A strange hollow throbbing begins to pulse inside of my head. As if something, or many things, are missing. I can’t place it and as soon as I try to recall what’s gone, it whisks away like a leaf in the breeze.

Imogen’s hands are steady on me as another memory, this one golden and bright, surfaces.

“I could show you a thing or two with those pretty long legs of yours wrapped around my-“

A crunching sound echoes in the courtyard as my fist collides with Jack Barlowe’s nose. His head whips back, harsh and startling. I keep my stance, watching and waiting as he whips back around, fury lighting his eyes.

“You fucking bitch!”

My hand shoots out again, this time slamming into his larynx, cutting off the sound in his throat. He chokes, staggering backwards. He falls to the ground, heaving.

The son of a bitch deserves it for pinching my ass and asking me to meet him in the dorms tonight like I’m some sort of whore. I roll my eyes and walk away from him, ignoring the stares that follow in my wake. I didn’t survive the fucking parapet to be groped and manipulated by some jackass.

“Excuse me?”

I whip around, ready to take on another asshole when I hesitate. My eyes widen at the sight of the man before me. He’s incredibly tall and broad. Muscles line his arms, rippling across his skin as if he’s a statue at a gallery. He towers over me with an impish grin on his face. His golden blonde hair a beacon in the sunlight. My heart races in my ears as I stare up at his incredible handsome face.

“You’re in the Fourth Wing, right?” His voice is deep, hypnotic. I could lose myself to the rhythm of it.

I nod, dumbly. “Flame Section.”

He smiles and I feel a strange sense of gravity slipping from beneath my feet at the sight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

But beautiful men often tend to be assholes. Like Jack.

“Me too,” he shrugs. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

My hackles rise at the compliment. “Why?”

He puts his hands up, showing he’s not a threat. “Hey, I’m just curious. I wanted to know the woman who beat the shit out the biggest asshole at Basgiath.”

I roll my eyes. “All men are assholes here. He just happens to be one of them.”

He cocks his head, leaning forward with a twinkle in his eye. “Am I one of them?”

I step close, glaring up at him. “Most likely, given how you seem to entirely depend on your good looks and charm to get you through your time here. Just like any asshole.”

“You think I’m good looking?” His smirk is intoxicating. “And charming?”

I shake my head. “And apparently brainless.”

He leans closer. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as you keep talking to me.”

My heart gets caught in my throat as I try and swallow. He watches the movement with sharp, knowing eyes. That smirk stretching wider.

“What if I don’t ever speak to you again?”

“You want me to beg, is that it?” His voice is as soft as velvet and it slithers over my skin. “Should I get on my knees for you?”

The image of him on his knees, looking up at me through his lashes, has me jolting away from him. He laughs, which rings through the air like a forgotten melody I only just remembered. It’s frightening how familiar he feels to me.

Annoyance prickles my skin as he continues to laugh at my expense. “You’re just another pompous ass who gets off at the idea of taunting me.”

He shakes his head, his smile never wavering. “Oh gods, you’re entirely wrong. Trust me.” He raises a hand, holding it out to me. “How about we start over, yeah? I’m Liam Mairi and I promise I’m not an asshole. Or,” he shrugs. “Not as big of an asshole as Jack is, at least.”

I can’t help my smile at the words. My annoyance simmers, but something inside of me knows he won’t be like Jack at all. I’ve always been good at reading people and Liam seems like he might actually be the opposite of what I thought he was.

I whisper my name back at him in greeting before reaching out and shanking his hand.

Something golden, like a thread, weaves between us as our skin touches for the first time. Intertwining around the space between our rib cages that has me gasping. It’s familiar, yet frightening. It’s something fragile, but I know it’ll somehow be something glorious. If I let myself curl into it. If I trust it. Trust him.

As I appraise Liam Mairi, I know, deep in the marrow of my bones, that I can trust him. That maybe, just maybe, he’ll become something more. He might be my everything. If I let him.

And that’s the most terrifying thing of all.

As if I’m rising out of water, after drowning for so long and seeking oxygen, I surface from the memories. They fade away with the tide, blinking from existence, as I feel my breath steady me.

Blinking my eyes open, I find Imogen moving back from me. With a quirk of my brow, I stare up at her eyes now brimming with unshed tears.

Why is she crying?

“Imogen?” My voice cracks, roughly, as if I’ve been screaming for hours.

Glancing around, we’re sitting on the stone ground of the courtyard. An arch protects us from the rain. The clouds are dark and ominous above, but I don’t remember coming out here. Weren’t we just having dinner in the dining hall?

Furrowing my brows, I purse my lips. How did we end up here?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I whirl to look at Imogen. “What for?”

That’s when I notice the skin of my cheeks are damp. Touching them, I quickly wipe them with my sleeve. Must’ve been from the rain.

“Can we go back inside? It’s cold.”

Imogen is still staring at me as she helps me from the ground. My muscles ache and pinch as if I were sitting for a long time. Strange.

I stretch my limbs and stare up at the dark clouds. “Hopefully we didn’t miss dinner.”

The last thing I remember was heading to the dining hall with Violet. How did I get here without her?

Imogen is silent as she watches me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She hesitates. “Nothing. Let’s go back-“

“There you are!”

We both turn to find Violet and Xaden heading towards us. Concern is painted across their faces as they approach.

“Are you alright?” Violet asks, stepping towards me.

I tilt my head. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

Imogen flinches in my peripheral, catching Xaden’s eye. He narrows his gaze on her as Violet continues to fret over me.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been there for you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. You never will be.”

I furrow my brows, staring at her. “What are you talking about, Vi? Weren’t we heading to dinner?”

She freezes. Suddenly the quiet is stifling as everyone shifts their focus to Imogen.

“What did you do?” Violet asks, her voice piercing.

Imogen stares at the ground, her eyes brimming with tears again. She doesn’t respond.

Xaden’s dark eyes are heavy on me as he steps closer. He whispers my name like I’m a startled animal and it sets my nerves on edge.

Why is everyone being so cryptic and dramatic?

Violet is the one who steps in front of him, taking my hands in hers. “Do you know who Liam Mairi is?”

At the sound of the name, something strange happens. An echo of something deep inside of me leaves me aching and wanting. I search for what it is that has me feeling this way, but I’m left empty. As if a part of me is missing. As if I’ve been cut up and left to figure out how to pull myself back together again. All I can feel are the ashes of something that used to be there and I can’t understand what it was.

“Who’s Liam?”

Weaver of Fate

[maybemaleksentmeasakindness]

Whittling

Summary - You and Liam have an arrangement of sorts. You patch him up and he makes sure you sleep. It's fine, right? Just two pals, helping each out.

A/N - There is cursing (this is your warning). As always, these characters and places don't belong to me. This is me making up for the lack of Liam Mairi fics in the world. 2k words.

Your POV

A soft light filtered through the curtains of your room. You had watched it since the moment you’d woken up, moving across the shelf where Liam’s carving sat and toward where your toes were tucked away at the edge of the bed. You had been up for a few hours and might’ve gotten out of bed if there wasn’t a beautiful blonde man lying in your bed beside you. Instead, you settled with sitting up against the headboard.

When you’d woken up Liam was dead asleep, one arm slung half-heartedly over your middle with not much space between your bodies, considering the bed was technically only made for one person. You pondered if whoever designed the rooms considered how much time some people spent in their peer’s bed, and if they perhaps did this to try and curb that habit. You chuckled quietly, considering how Liam might simply take it upon himself to take his skills with wood and a few tools to the next level and make a larger bed frame so you both could be comfortable. But that would mean admitting that you aren’t just extra good at healing his wounds, and he wasn’t extra good at noticing your exhaustion. That he just showed up at your room at night to clean him up. That he knew you weren’t getting sleep and insisted on staying the night. Just two peers, two friends, caring for each other because a larger bed frame made feelings real. Too real. 

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts as you tugged Liam’s still sleeping form against your body, letting your fingers trace the rebellion relic around his wrist. A low groan left Liam, barely aware of the touch. Your finger traced up the mark, over his arm. It didn’t feel fair to make children suffer for their parents' choices. Liam shifted slightly, but you didn’t stop, fingers tracing higher. Liam tucked himself closer to you with another groan. Your body shook slightly with laughter. 

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you teased.

“You should be sleeping right now,” Liam mumbled back, eyes still closed. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not that you could sleep much these days. Just because you had a decent chance with a dragon and blade didn’t mean you were free of the terrors that came with it. 

Liam responded by tugging you down beside him, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

A tension you didn’t know you were holding in your body seemed to ease up slightly in response before you tucked yourself closer to him, tangling your legs under the sheets. The skin of your face tingled as you felt Liam’s breath fan over it. It was warm and inviting, while giving an odd sensation. A pause, Liam’s eyes still hadn’t opened. “We could get an early breakfast,” you suggested, cutting through the silence.

“I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing.” Liam responded. He opened his eyes for a moment, examining you carefully. 

You smiled before placing yourself closer to Liam. You wanted to say something, to fill the pause. It’s not that you completely disliked the silence but it was more time to run around in circles and for you to do something stupid like kiss him. Ask him what exactly all of this was. “Liam?” 

“Mmm?” Liam hummed out in response, eyes still closed, both arms around your middle. 

You chuckled slightly realizing you had nothing more to say. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

“Sleep,” was Liam’s only response.

It wasn’t that easy, but you would try. If not for yourself, for him. Liam was aware of the whittling he was doing with his carvings, just not the whittling he was doing to your heart. Carving out a Liam-spaced home. 

Liam’s POV

Liam often wondered if there was ever a day he didn’t need something patched up if he would still show up at your door, if you would even let him in. But they were Riders in training, there would always be something to patch up. That always seemed to occupy Liam’s mind. Walking to your room at night. Sitting as you patched him up. Falling asleep next to you. Waking up next to you. 

It was nearly his first thought when he woke up as you pulled him tighter against you. He groaned slightly, not feeling ready to be up, and wanting you to be asleep. Liam, too tired to actually say anything, decided just to let out a low groan. A graon meant to represent the earliness and his displeasure with you being awake. Liam felt your fingers glide up from his wrist, up his arm in intricate patterns. For just a moment he thought you were drawing a picture when he realized it wasn’t any sort of free form. You were tracing his rebellion relic again. He wondered for a few moments what it would be like to wake up in his own bed, no fingers tracing up the marking on his skin. Liam had grown so accustomed to waking up beside you. He just needed an excuse to come call on your meticulous healing skills every night. What would happen if one day he made it out without some injury to be taken care of? What then? Would he still be invited into your room, your bed? The first night you’d ever spent sharing a bed was the best night of sleep in Liam’s life. 

Liam groaned at the thought of losing this opportunity to share a bed with you, preferring your warmth. He curled his body against your’s slightly, as if doing that wouldn’t let you escape, or perhaps his warmth would convince you back to sleep—–which would let him fall back asleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you said, a clear teasing in your voice. He hated when you called him that, like he was your superior. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he heard you respond. 

Liam let out a faint grunt before selecting that asking you nicely was going to get you to try and sleep. He pulled you down so you weren’t sitting up anymore, his body pressed to yours. Liam gently pressed his lips just under your hairline, half expecting you to complain that you didn’t need sleep and you weren’t a baby, but it didn’t come. Instead a soft silence. Liam could feel you curl up against him, tangling your legs underneath the sheets. And for a split second Liam wondered what it might be like to fall asleep, legs tangled every night with you, no need for your healing skills beforehand. Just two people needing each other to sleep. Some part of that was scary, that he had to admit that he needed you as much as you needed him. That he needed you more than just for the night, he needed you all the time––alive and kicking ass. 

Your voice came echoing through Liam’s thoughts. “We could get an early breakfast.”

Liam would’ve shaken his head if you both weren’t tucked together perfectly like two puzzle pieces that would fall apart if one of them moved. “I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing,” he said with a huff. From a sliver of vision he could see you looking wide awake, but it was clear you needed to rest longer. He felt some relief as you smiled and managed to wiggle ever closer against him. 

If there was even an ounce of alcohol in his system Liam might’ve just kissed you right then and there, but something was stopping him. What if one day you didn’t need this? What if one day Liam would be turned away after you’d patched him up? What then? What if these feelings he felt for you weren’t mutual? 

“Liam?” There was your stupid, beautiful voice again, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He screwed his eyes shut, knowing if he opened them he’d just stare straight at those gorgeous lips of yours. Liam needed you to both shut up and get out of his sight and to always be talking, always be in his line of sight. You were maddening.  Stupidly so. Liam restrained a groan before letting out a soft, hum. He was convinced if he tried to do anything more a long trail of words would escape his mouth before it was too late. 

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

LIam chose to quickly mumble out, “sleep.” He paused a moment before cracking one eye open to see you had closed yours. His gaze fell to a few of the carvings he had mde for you a while ago. All of them scattered around your room. Your dragon, a small bunny placed beside each other. Liam felt you shift slightly, face tucking into his neck. His fingers tensed against your back for a split second before relaxing. He could do this. He just needed to clear his head. 

“Liam?”

He looked at you before he realized he was gripping your back tighter than he meant. His eyes followed your face as you lifted your head slightly. “Oh, sorry.”

You only shook your head slightly. 

Liam scanned your eyes then your lips. Your stupid, perfect, gorgeous lips. Liam swore your face got a few inches closer to his. Shit.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and Liam sat up quickly.

“I know you’d never forget about me,” Ridoc calls from the other side of the door.

Liam tenses, eyes scanning to you as you mutter a litany of curses, jumping out of your bed. Liam’s very aware of his hand resting on your lower back as long as it physically could before you were running around your room. 

“Sorry! Give me a minute!” You shouted from the door before glancing at Liam. “Told Ridoc I’d study with him.”

Liam nodded before realizing he ought to get out of your bed and leave, though he knew exactly what that would look like. He watched and waited as you dressed as quickly as you could before swinging the door open.

Ridoc stood there with a shit-eating grin before trying to stop it. “Good morning, Liam. Didn’t expect to see you,” an unnecessary pause as he scanned the both of you, “here.”

You stepped out of your room, smacking Ridoc’s arm in response. He winced, acting like a wounded puppy as you pulled at his arm giving Liam the space to leave. He quickly made his way to the door, unsure how to say goodbye to you. Normally he’d happily walk out into the hallway with his arm around someone’s shoulder. But not today, not this time. You were different. He had too much emotional attachment here. Before Liam could make any more decisions you pulled him into a hug. As you both pulled away from each other he felt that tension from earlier, the moment just before Ridoc was knocking on your door. Before he could think or act on it, Ridoc was half pulling you down the hallway towards someone else’s room. Liam didn’t stand around waiting to find out who, he just briskly walked towards his own room, hearing your laughter just as the door was shut behind him. 

He could still feel your warmth, see your proximity to him, feel how close he was to getting a taste of those lips. Liam shook his head. He needed to clear it. 

Liam spent an hour doing that, trying to do anything and everything to get you out of his head; push-ups, bathing, studying. Nothing worked. He finally gave up, sitting down with a small piece of wood and a tool, and began to whittle away. Whittling your face from memory.

[itneverendshere]

holy ground beneath them- liam mairi (one shot)

★ pairing: childhood best friends to fwb ★ warnings: none; part one

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The sparring ring reeks of sweat and blood. 

Your pulse is still plummeting in your ears, making you recall the last hit—your opponent's elbow slamming into your ribs, your back colliding with the hard-packed dirt. You should’ve yielded, should’ve stopped. 

You move, wincing. Everything hurts.

The cadet across from you— was bigger, eager to prove himself—noticed you were out of it, took advantage, as he should. He got you on your back twice, landed a nasty kick to your ribs, and when he had you in a chokehold, when you should have tapped out you didn’t.

What is wrong with you?

You kept fighting, clawing, even as your vision darkened, even as Liam was yelling at you from the sidelines. You only remember the moment the other cadet’s grip got impossibly tighter, your body screaming for air, and the fury in Liam’s voice when he finally called the fight himself. When he shoved the other cadet off you and dragged you out of the ring, not letting you stand on your own.

“Training’s over. Get your ass to the med ward. Now.”

Liam is pissed, that much is obvious. He shoves you onto the infirmary bench—none too gently—and crouches in front of you, fingers pressing against your ribs. You bite down on a wince.

His nostrils flare. “Hurts?”

No, of course not. You love the feeling of getting kicked in the ribs.

“Not that bad,” you lie.

Liam lets out a slow, measured breath, physically restraining himself from strangling you. “Not that bad,” he repeats flatly. “You couldn’t even stand on your own two feet a minute ago.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” His hands are rough, but practiced, as he tilts your chin up to assess the damage. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

You scoff, wincing as he dabs a cloth against the cut on your cheek. “It was just a challenge match.”

Liam’s glare could set fire to the entire quadrant. “You were losing, you let yourself get pummeled. Why?”

You know why, you think he knows why too. But saying it out loud feels like taking a blade to your ribs, so you settle for silence. The war is coming. The war is here, and there’s no guarantee any of you make it through. Liam, Xaden, Bodhi—they’re your people. The whole squad has turned into your found family, even the newbies, and the thought of losing any of them is unbearable.

You weren’t exactly thinking straight in the ring.

Liam’s fingers pull you by your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. His thumb brushes over the purpling bruise along your cheekbone, his touch gentler than his earlier chosen words. He’s assessing you, studying every scrape, cut, every place you’ve been hurt as if he can fix it just by looking at it hard enough. His fingers trail lightly along your temple, down to your jaw, his calloused thumb grazing over a split in your lip. 

His other hand settles on the back of your neck, “You can’t do this. You can’t go into fights distracted. It’s gonna get you killed, and I swear to every fucking god, I won’t be able to handle that.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he tilts your chin slightly, blue eyes narrowing at the swelling at your cheek. His thumb strokes absently over your skin, his touch so achingly familiar it makes you want to sob. His brows furrow, his lips pressing together, you know he’s holding back everything he wants to say.

“You can’t do that,” he murmurs, voice rough. “You hear me? You hate it when I go on missions, because I could die,” He starts, “You fucking hate it, and you act like you’re the only one allowed to care. But you’re not the only one who gets to be angry or scared.”

Your throat tightens as you attempt to look away, but his grip keeps you still. 

“You can’t throw yourself into fights like you have nothing to lose. You do, you have me, you have Bodhi and Xaden. Garrick. If you die because you weren’t paying attention, because you couldn’t get out of your fucking head, it won’t just be you who pays the price.” His voice drops even lower. “I can’t lose you. Do you get that? I can’t.”

He’s said the words before, a lifetime ago. You were nine, reckless and stubborn even then, climbing where you shouldn’t, running way too fast for the size of your legs, pushing limits that didn’t need to be pushed. That day, you’d taken a nasty fall, scraping your knees bloody, tears burning in your eyes even as you insisted you were fine. But Liam wasn’t having it. He had crouched in front of you, just like now, hands gripping your shoulders, frustrated.

“I can’t lose you,” he’d said back then. You hadn’t understood it fully then, his worry… it was just a silly fall you told him, questioning the way his hands trembled as he helped you up. But you do now.

You don’t know what to say. What could you possibly say to that? You nod, hardly perceptible due to the pain in your face, but Liam sees it. He sighs and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before placing his forehead briefly against yours, long enough to remind you that he’s here. That you both still are.

Then he pulls away, the absence of his touch colder than it should be. “Don’t do it again.”

You swallow hard. “Okay.”

He packs away the infirmary supplies, his fingers are still shaking and you hear him muttering again—to himself. “Swear I’m gonna break that asshole’s fucking face.” Then his eyes lift back to you, narrowing slightly. “Take your leathers off.”

You blink. “Liam, if you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

He does not look amused. “Take them off. Now.”

You hesitate. Not because you’re shy—Liam’s seen you battered and bruised before, vulnerable in ways most people never have. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, a lot. In ways that had nothing to do with stitching up wounds and everything to do with breathless nights, tangled sheets, and the desperation of trying to forget the war outside your door.

Except, this isn’t the version of you that reaches for him in the dead of night

You grumble but obey, wincing as you peel your jacket off and then tug your undershirt over your head. The second the bruises on your ribs are exposed, Liam’s on you.

“Fuck,” he hovers over the deep, angry bruising along your ribs. He’s careful when he finally touches you, fingertips grazing over the worst of it before applying pressure. 

You suck in a breath, and he exhales through his nose in annoyance.

“Guess you’ll have to do all the work for the next week,��� you quip, grinning through the pain, hoping the sarcasm will get you out of trouble. “Since I’ll be out of commission.”

Liam levels you with a glare so unamused. “Not funny.”

“Kinda funny.”

“You almost got your ribs broken.” He grabs the salve again, warming it between his fingers before applying it. “I’m not laughing.”

“I’m fine, Liam.”

You hiss as the cool paste makes contact with your skin, but Liam's fingers are warm, spreading it gently. He’s still pissed, and you feel guilty, knowing you shouldn’t have been so reckless. Shouldn’t have scared him like that.

You don’t like that look on his face—the way his lips are pressed thin knowing he’s holding something back. You hate it.

“I really am sorry,” you confess.

He doesn’t respond right away, just keeps rubbing the salve into your ribs, working methodically. You watch him, how his brows furrow, his fingers trembling slightly when they find the deepest bruise and it makes you lean in, placing the softest peck to his lips.

It’s barely anything compared to what you’re used to, a brush of your mouth against his, a silent apology you don’t know how else to give. When you pull back, he’s stopped moving, his hands still on your ribs, eyes locked onto yours.

He shakes his head, “You don’t get to distract me,” he huffs, but his voice has lost its earlier temper. 

You smirk, wincing as the movement pulls at the cut on your lip. “Did it work?”

You know shouldn’t have kissed him, not here, outside of the four walls of his room where you can both pretend it’s just two friends helping each other out, a habit that won’t mean anything if you never talk about it. You and Liam don’t have rules—not officially. But you’ve never done this outside of your bedrooms.

He glares at first, but then without another word, he dips his head and kisses you again—slowly enough not to hurt you. “No,” he lies, brushing his thumb over your lip one last time. “Now shut up and let me finish patching you up.”

You allow yourself to really look, you’re too sore to fight the pull, and you almost passed out in the sparring ring today, you’re still feeling a little reckless.

Liam’s hair is a mess, damp from sweat, those golden-blond strands falling into his face like they always do when he’s frustrated. And he is frustrated. His eyes—too fucking blue. It’s unfair, really, how they stand out against the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw. Even when he’s pissed, even when he’s all but radiating annoyance, he’s still—Gods, you hate that you notice.

“Stop it.”

You blink, dragging your eyes back up to his. “Stop what?”

He gives you a look, one that says don’t play dumb with me, before shaking his head. “You’re staring.”

“I just got my ass kicked. Forgive me if I’m a little dazed.”

You’re still tingling when the door creaks open again.

Xaden steps inside, eyes immediately narrowing when he takes in the state of you—bruises blooming along your ribs, the cut on your cheek, your still-swollen lip. His gaze zeros in the salve glistening against your skin, then to the infirmary supplies still scattered across the bench.

“The fuck happened to you?” 

You shrug, wincing when the movement pulls at the bruises. “Challenge match.”

Liam, still crouched in front of you, doesn’t bother to look back. “Relax. I’ve got it handled.”

Xaden doesn’t look convinced. 

“I’m fine.”

Liam lets out a humorless chuckle, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “You’re a pain in my ass, that’s what you are.” He shakes his head before turning toward the door. “I’m gonna go grab more supplies, since someone”—he shoots you a pointed look—“decided to bleed all over the place.”

“Aww, you care.”

Liam mutters something under his breath, it sounds suspiciously like too much, before giving Xaden a look. “Watch her, make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Xaden’s lips twitch, but he nods, stepping further into the room as his brother strides out. His expression doesn’t change, but you know him well—he’s assessing you, reading you the same way Liam just had. He's seen you pull reckless shit before, has probably done worse himself,

“What?” you tilt your head up to meet his stare.

His eyes flicks toward the door Liam disappeared through, then back to you, and something about how he’s looking at you makes you squirm. “You two know what you’re doing, right?”

You blink. “Huh?”

Xaden lifts a single dark brow, “You and Liam.”

Your pulse kicks up for a reason that has nothing to do with your injuries. “I don’t—”

He gives you a look. “Don’t bullshit me.”

Like he has any fucking room to talk. Xaden “I’d Rather Die Than Feel Emotions” Riorson thinks he’s the expert on navigating relationships. As if he’s not out here blatantly pining after Violet Sorrengail like a lovesick idiot while pretending, he’s not. 

Half the quadrant already knows where that’s heading.

You want to say something, something along the lines of, Oh, that’s rich coming from you, dumbass. But you don’t, because despite everything, you like your ribs intact, and Xaden is still Xaden.

Instead, you stare at him, unimpressed. “And you’re the one giving me the talk?”

Xaden turns slightly, the brow still lifting like he can hear every single unspoken insult in your head.  “You’re deflecting.”

“I should be.” You move your arms—pain flaring through your ribs—and immediately regret it. Xaden notices, lips fighting that stupid smirk.

He titles his head slightly, “If you two are going to be reckless, at least don’t be stupid about it.”

 “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face like gods, you’re exhausting. “Right. Okay.” He nods, “And Liam just happens to be the one personally patching you up every time you do something stupid?”

You are so fucking grateful Liam isn’t in this room right now. You’re still pissed at Xaden, for the endless missions Liam gets sent on, for the fact that it’s always him, and for how easily everyone else lets it happen, simply because he’s the best of all of you.

“I get injured a lot,” you counter. “It’s convenient.”

“And the way he was looking at you wasn’t convenient.”

Your stomach jumps around—not in the way it does when Liam’s hands are on you, or when he looks at you. This is the kind of reaction only an older brother figure can incite—the pure desire to throw hands.

“You’re such a hypocrite.” You point at him accusingly. “I don’t see you having this little intervention with yourself every time you look at Violet like she personally hung the fucking moon.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“It’s exactly about you,” you say, pushing yourself up on shaky legs. Xaden doesn’t move, doesn’t offer to help, he knows better. “You’re acting like I don’t know what I’m doing—”

“You don’t.”

“Neither do you!”

“Look,” he says, “I don’t care what you do. I just—” He cuts himself off, his throat working as he swallows. He trails down to the bruises blooming along your ribs, the still-swollen cut on your cheek.

And there it is, it’s not anger, just fear. The same kind Liam had in his voice earlier, the same you’ve seen in his face far too many times, the same kind you understand, because you feel it too. You feel it every time Xaden goes on a mission, every time Liam doesn’t come back right away, every time you remember this is a war, and the people you love are not guaranteed.

“You scared him today.”

He doesn’t mean the fight, or the bruises or the blood or the way you collapsed in the ring. He means you, how you fought like you had nothing to lose, you didn’t care if you lost.

“I know.”

“You don’t even realize it, do you?”

You force yourself not to peek toward the door Liam disappeared through. “There’s nothing to realize.”

Xaden scoffs, “He looked two seconds away from losing his mind when he stormed out of here.”

“Liam always looks like that,” you deflect, focusing on the deep inhale it takes to keep from grimacing as you sit back on the bench. You’re sore, and exhausted, the adrenaline has faded, and you don’t have the patience for whatever lecture Xaden is gearing up to give you. “Don’t you have more important things to do?”

His gaze flicks to your ribs again, then back to your face, “Not more important than this.”

Xaden watches you for a second longer, then nods once. He takes a step back, but not before reaching out—knocking his knuckles lightly against the top of your head, the same way he has since you were kids. He rolls his eyes for good measure and tosses the stolen bandage in your lap before heading for the door again.

“Just don’t be stupid,” he says over his shoulder. “One idiot in the group is already too many.”

“Yeah, you would know, take your own advice.”

“Fuck off.”

 “You first.”

He snorts, shoving the door open just as Liam walks back in, his arms full of supplies. Xaden claps him on the shoulder in passing like he hasn’t just made things significantly more complicated.

Liam frowns, glancing between the two of you. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "Xaden being Xaden."

He eyes you, then Xaden’s retreating, then you again. “Uh-huh.”

You click your tongue in annoyance. “Just patch me up, Liam.”

He sets the supplies down beside you, “Back to acting like the brat you are? Cute.”

You shift on the bench to make yourself more comfortable. “Shut up.”

Liam just huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he kneels in front of you again. His hands find your ribs as he inspects the bruising once more, less frantic worry, more familiarity, more him.

This is a problem. 

You and Liam aren't supposed to be anything more—just best friends who know each other’s bodies as well as you knew each other’s tells in a fight. Fuck what people will think, you're not overthinking it thanks to Xaden’s little speech, but because you don’t know how to pull back. 

You’re here, while Liam fusses over you like you’re fragile instead of a trained fighter who just made a very stupid decision, and you’re realizing each passing day that this might fuck you up for good.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he mutters, dipping a clean cloth into the bowl of water he brought before carefully wiping at your skin.

The warmth in your chest spreads all over, as it does anytime, he looks at you. You roll your eyes and let him work, watching the crease in his brow as he focuses on cleaning the dried blood from your skin.

"Liam—"

"Quiet,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat to it. "Just—just let me do this."

You let your mouth close, pressing your lips together, feeling the sting of the split there.

Your fingers curl into the edge of the infirmary table, fighting against the pain in your ribs, against the pull toward him.

"I wasn’t trying to scare you."

His fingers twitch against your skin. "You did."

Something shatters into a million tiny in your chest. You’ve seen him furious, seen him exhausted, exasperated, amused, smug, cocky, even soft. You’ve seen every single version of him over the years, but this something else.

You lift your hand, fingers brushing along the sharp cut of his jaw, tilting his face toward you. His eyes snap to yours, blue and burning, you swear he leans into your touch like a puppy.

"I’m sorry," you say one more time for good measure, and you mean it this time.

Liam’s attention drops to your mouth, to the split lip he’d just cleaned, then back up. 

You should pull away.

His mouth falls against yours, and you sigh dreamily against his lips, but it turns into a wince when the cut on your lip burns, and he pulls back immediately, cursing.

His thumb brushes over your mouth, “Sorry, baby.”

Liam has only ever called you "baby" in those moments—when things are hot, when it’s just the two of you, tangled up in ways you’re still trying to wrap your head around. This is different. It’s not the breathless, heated intimacy of the bedroom. He just called you baby without even thinking about it and it’s enough to make your chest ache.

You glance at him, watching his hands work, how calm he seems, how oblivious.

He has no idea.

[breezyblossoms]

A/N: Fourth Wing Spoilers!!

The battlefield was silent, the air heavy with the weight of loss. The scent of smoke lingered in the thick night, mixing with the fresh, cold bite of the wind. In the midst of the ruin and the screams of those who had fallen, there was a place where time felt suspended—a moment frozen forever.

It was there you stood, your eyes fixed on the spot where Liam Mairi had fallen. His body lay still, lifeless, but the memory of him—the essence of his spirit—hovered around you like a mist. You could still hear his voice in the recesses of your mind, his laugh, his unwavering support, and his determination. It felt like you were in a dream, one where you couldn’t wake up, no matter how hard you tried.

The night had begun like any other. The skies had been full of fire and blood as the war raged on, but it was on that very night that something had shifted. Something had broken. You and Liam had shared a quiet moment before the battle, a brief pause amidst the chaos that defined your lives. He had always been there for you, your closest ally and friend, always ready with a joke to lift your spirits or a hand to steady you when the world seemed too much to bear.

But now, he was gone.

A tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t wipe it away. It felt wrong to. You didn’t want to erase the grief, the ache in your chest that burned hotter than the fires of war. You didn’t want to forget the moment you had shared. The moment when it all felt like it had just begun.

“I’ve got your back, always.”

His words echoed in your mind, a promise he had made, a promise he couldn’t keep. But you didn’t hold it against him. How could you? He had given everything, and you knew that with his death, he had left a hole that could never be filled.

In the distance, you heard someone approach. It was a soft step, but you didn’t need to turn to know who it was. You could feel their presence before they even spoke.

“You never told me,” Violet whispered softly, stepping up beside you. You hadn’t noticed how close she had been until now, but her quiet voice was a grounding force in the storm of grief.

“What?” You wiped your face, quickly trying to hide the tears you knew she had already seen. But she didn’t say anything, only stood in silence beside you, her presence like a steady hand on your shoulder.

“That he was everything to you.” She paused, looking out over the battlefield, her eyes tracing the horizon, the stars barely visible through the smoke.

“He was everything,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “He was my family. My… everything.”

The night felt still. The weight of it pressing against your chest, suffocating, but you didn’t mind the pressure. It was like the night had swallowed you whole, leaving you here in this place where everything had ended. Where you were left alone with only the memory of him.

The silence stretched, the air between you and Violet filled with unspoken understanding. Neither of you needed to say the words. There were no words that could explain the weight of what had just happened.

“You know,” Violet said quietly, “I’m glad I met him. Even if it was only for a short time.” Her voice cracked on the final word, and you felt a pang of sympathy for her. She had loved him, too.

You nodded, swallowing against the lump in your throat. “He was… he was always there, wasn’t he? Always ready to fight. To protect.”

“Always ready to smile, too,” Violet added softly, her voice light with the faintest hint of a laugh, even as the sorrow clung to her like a second skin. “You know, I think he would’ve wanted us to remember him that way. Not like this. Not in the aftermath.”

You nodded again, feeling the sting of that truth, but also a sense of peace. Liam had lived a life full of light, full of love and laughter, even in the face of the darkest of battles. That’s how you would remember him—not for the way he fell, but for the way he stood, always strong, always unyielding.

“You’re right,” you whispered. “That’s how I want to remember him.”

Violet didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t need to. Her hand brushed against yours in silent comfort, a gesture that spoke more than words ever could. In that fleeting touch, you both felt the gravity of the night. You felt the pull of everything you had lost, but also the weight of everything you had gained—friendship, love, and the fleeting but precious moments that life gave you.

As the stars finally broke free from the haze of smoke, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and remember the night you met. Not the battle. Not the blood. Not the heartbreak.

But the quiet moments—the soft words exchanged, the laughter shared, and the feeling of someone standing beside you, no matter what. The feeling that, for that short time, you were whole.

And in that moment, you could almost hear his voice again.

“I’ve got your back, always.”

The night was still. The world seemed to stand still for just a moment, and you allowed yourself to breathe, holding on to the memory, the love, and the person who would forever live in your heart.

[otsukimidango]

the burden of love | liam mairi x reader

you remember when stars fell, piercing through the deep blue sky on that warm, humid night in april. you’d sat on the parapet with liam, shoulders touching and wearing matching smiles as you watched stars leave shimmering trails as they flew.

having known the kind, beautiful boy all your life, you’d been filled with glee after he asked you to be his wife not less than ten minutes ago.

“an unofficial proposal, until we can graduate and get married,” he said. you linked pinkies with him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your fingers before giving him a wide smile.

he’d then led you off the parapet, so you could dance and spin together in blissful happiness.

sometimes you wonder if it would’ve been better to decline.

would it have prevented the cracking of your heart, as liam lay breathing his last breaths, begging to hear his dragon one last time?

“liam,” you cry, taking his hand in yours. he can’t even stand, and his eyes are beginning to glaze over.

“(name)…” he whispers. “i’ll always love you. find happiness for me, even if i’m not there to see it.”

and he’s gone, just like that. you pray that his end was as painless as it can be. but your own heart shatters, and as you wonder if you’ll ever rid yourself of the pain of losing him, his eyes flutter shut one last time.

[mischiefmanagers]

when the fic warnings are like *major character death* but then also *angst with a happy ending* sign me THE FUCK up

[soulofapatrick]

The Not-So-Secret Secret - Liam Mairi x female reader

Summary: Liam overhears you fantasising about him 

Words: 3.6K 

Warnings: none 

Notes: Who wouldn’t want a friendship like this with Ridoc, Sawyer and Violet??

Y/N's POV

Lunch in the Rider’s Quadrant is supposed to be a brief respite—a small break from the endless training, a moment of peace before we're thrust back into the chaos of Basgiath. But, with my friends around? Peace is a joke.

Ridoc lounges across from me, his smirk too damn infuriating as he stirs his stew with far too much amusement. Violet props her chin on her hand, watching me like I’m the star of her personal comedy show. Sawyer, the unwilling participant in all our chaos, sits next to me, sighing deeply into his cup like he already knows what’s coming.

And, of course, as always, I’m the topic of discussion.

I glance around the crowded mess hall, my eyes scanning for the familiar form of Liam. I swear, I can’t stop myself from looking for him, even though I know full well I’ll just end up making an idiot of myself when he catches me staring.

But before I can spot him, Ridoc speaks.

“You’re so obvious,” he drawls, his voice lazy but laced with far too much amusement. He taps his spoon against the edge of his bowl like he’s conducting some twisted rhythm. “It’s almost painful to watch.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sawyer huffs a quiet laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You definitely do.”

Violet grins, leaning forward with that knowing look. “You want us to spell it out? Fine. You stare at Liam like he’s a godsdamned meal, you turn into a stuttering mess when he talks to you, and—oh, wait—didn’t you walk into a pole last week because he smiled at you?”

I groan, slumping forward and burying my face in my hands. “Once. That happened once.”

Ridoc snickers, not missing a beat. “You apologised to the pole.”

Sawyer shakes his head, clearly done with both of them. “You’re aware that most people just… talk to their crushes, right? Instead of ogling them like they’re about to go extinct?”

I lift my head just enough to glare at him. “First of all, I do not ogle him—”

Ridoc snorts. “Oh, babe. You do.”

Violet hums thoughtfully, a smirk playing at her lips. “I mean, to be fair, I’d ogle him too.”

Ridoc grins, his shoulder leaning back casually. “Same.”

Sawyer sighs, running a hand over his face. “I hate both of you.”

Violet nudges my foot under the table, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re so far gone. What is it? The muscles? The whole ‘dangerous but soft-hearted protector’ thing?”

Ridoc elbows her, joining in. “Or is it the way he looks like he could pick you up and throw you onto a bed like you weigh nothing?”

I shoot them both a withering glare, but they’re not even fazed. “You both suck.”

Violet just laughs, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “I bet he’s great in bed.”

And that’s the moment that seals my fate. Without even thinking, I let out a dreamy sigh, my voice soft and full of wistful longing. “Oh, definitely.”

Sawyer’s fork hits his plate with a loud clatter, his eyes wide with shock. Ridoc and Violet exchange delighted glances, both of them far too entertained by this.

“Oh, please,” Ridoc urges, leaning forward with far too much enthusiasm. “Do go on.”

I should stop. I know I should. But the words just spill out, and I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Okay, just think about it,” I begin, my hands moving as I get more caught up in my own thoughts. “Liam’s always in control, right? He’s always calm, always watching out for everyone. But I bet when he finally lets go?” I exhale sharply. “Gods.”

Ridoc presses a hand to his heart, pretending to swoon. “This is already my favourite meal ever.”

Violet grins wider. “Go on.”

And so, I do.

“He’s so strong,” I continue, eyes wide as I gesture in excitement. “He could pin you down so easily. Hold you right where he wants you.” My voice softens, turning almost reverent. “And he would—he absolutely would. And he’s so thoughtful, you know? He’d pay attention. He’d know exactly what makes you lose control, and he’d use it against you.”

Sawyer makes a strangled noise behind me, while Ridoc actually fans himself, looking delighted.

“I bet he loves praise, too,” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s got that heroic streak—he wants to protect, wants to be good at what he does. So imagine what he’d be like in bed if you just—” I trail my fingers along the table, my breath hitching slightly. “If you just moaned his name and told him how good he was—”

Ridoc wheezes, barely able to contain his laughter.

Violet���s eyes are wide, fighting back her own amusement.

Sawyer groans, rubbing his temples like he’s in physical pain.

And that’s when my stomach drops.

I freeze, my mind going completely blank. The atmosphere shifts, and Ridoc’s laughter turns manic while Violet looks far too entertained. Sawyer—traitor that he is—won’t even look at me, staring at his plate like he’s preparing for my inevitable demise.

I slowly turn my head.

And there he is.

Liam Mairi stands right behind me, arms crossed, hazel eyes dark with something unreadable. There’s a slight flush creeping up his neck, but his lips are quirked in the faintest, most infuriating smirk.

I can’t breathe

For what feels like an eternity, there’s nothing but silence. The entire room seems to freeze, and my heart races in my chest like it’s trying to escape. I’m convinced I’ve just combusted, my soul departing from my body as the blood rushes to my ears. I feel like I'm suffocating, trapped in the crushing weight of my own humiliation.

Then, in a voice that’s far too calm, too collected, Liam says, “That’s quite the imagination you’ve got there.”

And just like that, I forget how to exist. My body goes slack, my mind blanking out in the worst possible way. I can't even form a coherent thought. It’s like the universe has decided to prank me on an existential scale.

Ridoc is the first to lose it. He collapses against the table, gasping for breath as he bursts into full-blown, wheezing laughter. I can feel the heat of embarrassment spreading across my face, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Sawyer groans in disbelief, slumping in his seat as though he's praying for an escape. And Violet? Violet just watches me with gleaming eyes, too pleased with herself as she waits to see how I handle this nightmare.

And because Liam is a menace, he steps closer. He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts over my ear, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. His voice is low, teasing, and he murmurs, “You could’ve just asked.”

I’m pretty sure I stop breathing entirely, my entire world shrinking down to that one breath, that one infuriatingly calm whisper in my ear. And then—like he didn’t just completely obliterate my existence—he straightens up, grabs an apple from the table like it's the most normal thing in the world, and walks away without another word.

I’m frozen. I don’t even know how I’m still upright. Every single neutron in my brain is fried beyond repair. The weight of my own existence crashes down on me, and I don’t know whether I want to crawl into a hole and die or just evaporate into thin air.

The silence is unbearable. It stretches on like a taut string, a physical thing, as though everyone else in the room is waiting for me to fall apart. And then—

“Oh, fuck, that was beautiful,” Ridoc gasps, still wiping actual tears from his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath. He barely manages to hold himself up, clearly on the verge of total collapse from laughter.

Sawyer exhales deeply, like he’s been holding his breath for an hour. “I think I need a cold shower after that.”

Violet is grinning like a cat that got the cream, her eyes dancing with wicked glee. “So… are you going to ask?”

I groan, burying my face in my arms on the table. This is it. My life is officially over. I’m going to die here, surrounded by the most insufferable friends in existence, right in the middle of the Rider’s Quadrant.

Ridoc is practically howling with laughter now, unable to contain himself any longer. He slides off the bench, clutching his stomach as he wheezes. Violet beams like she just orchestrated the most spectacular thing in the world. Sawyer—poor, long-suffering Sawyer—just groans, his face buried in his hands like he cannot handle the absolute chaos any longer.

Meanwhile, I am completely frozen in place, still reeling from the fact that Liam Mairi—the man I’ve been not-so-secretly fantasising about—just heard everything. And then, then, he had the audacity to whisper in my ear like he hadn't just obliterated every ounce of dignity I’ve ever had.

I am never going to recover from this.

“Holy shit,” Ridoc gasps, still on the floor, clearly out of his mind with laughter. “That was—I am deceased. Do not revive me. Let me die like this.”

Violet sighs dreamily, clearly still basking in the aftermath of the moment. “Gods, that was hot. The way he just—” She mimics Liam’s smirk, deepens her voice mockingly, “‘You could’ve just asked.’” She shudders, as though she felt it too. “I felt that.”

I groan again, shoving her arm away. “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, I never intended to.”

Ridoc finally manages to haul himself back onto the bench, though he’s still wiping tears from his eyes. “You know,” he says between fits of laughter, nudging me with his elbow, “if you want, I can go find him. Tell him you’d like to—what was it?—moan his name and tell him how good he is?”

My soul leaves my body. “Ridoc!”

He grins, unbothered. “What? I’m just being a good friend.”

“You’re the worst friend.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Violet, still wearing that insufferable smirk, tilts her head with a knowing look. “You do realise you now have zero excuse not to make a move, right?”

I blink at her, not understanding at first. “I—what? No, I absolutely have an excuse. Multiple, actually.” I start counting them off on my fingers. “One: I’ve just suffered a public humiliation the likes of which I will never recover from. Two: I am pretty sure I’ve spontaneously developed a heart condition from that interaction alone. And three: I simply cannot face him after that.”

Sawyer groans, cutting me off with a loud exasperated sound. “For the love of all that is holy, just go after him.”

I blink, completely thrown off by his sudden urgency. “What?”

“I cannot handle any more of this,” he grumbles, dragging a hand down his face like he's dealing with something far beyond his understanding. “I love you, but I am too straight to be forced to think about another man’s dick this much.”

Ridoc cackles like a madman. “You poor, poor thing.”

Sawyer levels him with an exasperated look. “You are thriving in this chaos. I am suffering.” He gestures at me, then at Liam’s retreating figure. “And she’s just sitting here instead of chasing after him like a normal person.”

I sputter, feeling like the world is spinning around me. “Chase after him?!”

Violet hums thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I mean… it would be the logical next step.”

I shake my head, my voice low and shaky. “No, the logical next step is that I pretend this never happened and spend the rest of my life avoiding him—”

Sawyer cuts me off with a sharp, pained groan as he shoves me. “Go.”

“I—”

“Go.”

“I don’t—”

“If you do not get your ass up and go after him, I swear, I will personally tie you to a saddle and deliver you to him myself.”

Ridoc perks up, like he's suddenly interested. “Oh, that sounds fun.”

“Not helping!”

Violet crosses her arms, clearly not letting me off the hook. “Sawyer’s right. You have a literal invitation to make a move. Are you really going to sit here and let it go to waste?”

I groan, slumping further down onto the table. “You all suck so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re the worst,” Ridoc says, rolling his eyes. “Now go get your man.”

I lift my head just enough to glare at them all. “If this ends in disaster, I’m blaming all of you.”

Violet shrugs nonchalantly. “Fair.”

Sawyer gestures toward the door, clearly done with the back and forth. “Please just go before I hear one more word about Liam Mairi’s dick.”

“Don’t forget to suck his-“ 

I throw a one-finger salute over my shoulder, my heart already in my throat. The last thing I need is Ridoc making more of a spectacle out of this than he already has. Still, I can hear him laughing behind me, Violet trying (and failing) to stifle her giggles, and Sawyer groaning in what I can only assume is pure agony.

I try to focus, pushing past the teasing and the anxiety building in my chest. I need to find Liam. I can’t even think about the fact that he—the person I’ve been obsessing over in the most embarrassing of ways—now knows exactly how I feel. I really need to see him again to figure out if what happened was as insane as I think it was.

As I jog away from the dining hall, the crowd thinning as I round a corner, I spot him just outside. His broad shoulders are visible before anything else—impossible to miss, especially when his presence seems to take up more space than necessary. He’s standing near the stone archway, arms crossed, with that familiar soft smile playing on his lips. I stop short, heart hammering in my chest, legs feeling like they’re made of lead as I stare at him.

What the hell am I even supposed to say?

Liam’s eyes flicker toward me, his smile widening slightly, as if he’d known I’d come running after him. He leans back slightly against the archway, his posture easy and relaxed, and I feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with nerves.

“You know,” he says, his voice warm and inviting, “I didn’t expect you to come after me quite like this.”

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Gods, help me. Instead, I shuffle on my feet, trying desperately to act cool, but I can feel the heat creeping up my neck. It’s almost like every ounce of confidence I’ve ever had is being sucked out of me by his gaze.

He pushes off the stone with one hand, his eyes soft but teasing as they meet mine. “I didn’t think I was that irresistible.”

I wince, my blush spreading even further. “You’re not—"

Liam’s eyebrow quirks up, his lips curving into that playful smile I know so well. “Oh, really? Because Ridoc sure seemed to think you were.”

And just like that, the air in my lungs feels like it’s been replaced with stone. Ridoc’s voice echoes in my mind: “Suck his dick, huh?”

Fucking Ridoc.

“I—” I stutter, trying to force words through the haze of panic, but they’re stuck somewhere in my throat. “I don’t—I wasn’t—”

Liam steps closer, slowly, his presence gentle but unmistakable. He reaches out, his hand brushing lightly against my arm, sending a surge of warmth through me. It’s soft, almost tender, like he’s being careful with me, like he’s waiting for something. But the intensity in his gaze tells me that he’s not the least bit uncertain.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost teasing, “I’ve been thinking about this. And I think we’re both tired of pretending we don’t want this.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. The heat between us is building, and my mind feels hazy. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and then back up, and I swear I see a flicker of something darker in his gaze.

Before I can process what he just said, his hand moves quickly—too quickly for me to react—and he pulls me closer, his fingers wrapping around my waist. My breath catches in my chest as he draws me in, his grip firm but gentle, like he’s in control, like he knows exactly what he wants.

Then, in a move so fast it almost takes my breath away, he spins us around, his body pressing me up against the nearest wall. My hands are pinned above my head, his strong grip keeping me in place. The world seems to stop as I feel the heat of his body against mine, his breath warm on my neck.

There’s no teasing this time. No playful smirk. His face is inches from mine, his expression serious, searching. “Is this what you imagined?” he asks, his voice breathless, a hint of vulnerability behind the intensity.

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of his words hangs in the air between us, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at him. This—this is different. This isn’t the playful Liam I know. This is something raw, something real.

The space between us crackles with heat, the air thick with anticipation, and when his lips finally crash against mine, it’s not soft or hesitant—it’s burning, desperate, and hungry. He moves with a primal need, as if he’s been waiting for this exact moment for far too long.

My breath hitches as his hands grip me, pulling me even closer, pressing my body flush against his. His lips are bruising, demanding, his kiss deep and relentless as if he wants to devour me whole. His tongue slides against mine, coaxing, urging, like he’s trying to erase every ounce of hesitation between us. I can’t think, can’t breathe—there’s nothing but him, nothing but the heat of his body and the intoxicating taste of his kiss.

I lose myself in it, my fingers tangling in his shirt as I tug him closer, needing more, deeper. His hand moves back to my wrist, pinning it above my head against the wall again, his grip tight but not painful, a reminder that he’s in control, that he’s holding me here, with him. His other hand slides down to my waist, tugging me even closer until there’s not an inch of space between us.

His lips shift, feverish, his kiss becoming more insistent, more demanding. His breath is ragged against my lips, each exhale a fire that only fuels the inferno building between us. The sensation of him, the taste of him, consumes me, and for a moment, I forget everything else—the world, the noise, the people around us.

Then, just when I think I can’t take it anymore, just when my mind is a haze of desire and need, he pulls away, his lips barely brushing mine as he pants against my face. His eyes meet mine, dark and heavy with unspoken questions.

“Is this what you imagined?” His voice is low, gravelly, the words thick with longing.

I can barely breathe, let alone form a coherent thought, but somehow, I manage to let out a shaky breath and nod, my hands trembling as I rest them on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under my fingertips. I can still taste him on my lips, still feel the heat of him all around me. My head spins, but I can’t stop smiling. “Yeah,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath. “I think it is.”

Liam’s grin returns, wicked and slow, before he leans in again, his lips hovering just above mine. There’s something different in the way he kisses me this time—softer, more intimate, like he’s savouring every second, every breath.

But just as the world narrows down to nothing but him, just as his lips move with that same heated urgency, an unmistakable wolf-whistle pierces the air.

I freeze, every muscle in my body tensing as a familiar voice rings out through the silence, followed by another.

“Damn, Liam! Save some of that for later!” Ridoc’s voice calls out, his tone mocking but amused.

Sawyer groans in the background, dragging a cackling Ridoc and Violet behind him. The sound of their laughter cuts through the haze of heat between us, and before I can even react, Ridoc’s obnoxious whistle echoes again, followed by a loud, exaggerated "Woo!"

I pull back from Liam, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, my heart still racing from the kiss. But the moment has shattered, replaced with Ridoc’s teasing and Sawyer’s grumbling.

Liam chuckles softly, his breath still heavy, though there’s a playful glint in his eyes now. “I guess we’ll have to finish this later,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise.

I blink, disoriented, and turn my head to glare at Ridoc, my heart still pounding in my chest. "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?" I mutter, though a smile threatens to break through.

But I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@caramelmacchiato07 @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @mariahoedt @marrass @honethatty12 @ladymacbabe

[partoffantasy]

Between Heartbeats - Liam Mairi

⸻ image credits to mybookishdoodles ⸻

summary: reader has always had Liam by her side, but it takes almost losing him for her to realize what he truly means to her. As she fights to keep him alive, she’s forced to face her own feelings—before time runs out for both of them.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: angst, blood word count: 4.6k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

After six relentless hours of flying, our bodies aching from the strain, Xaden finally orders us to take a break. Sgaeyl leads us downward, her massive wings cutting through the air with effortless precision. We descend into a clearing where a small lake shimmers between thick clusters of emerald trees, the water a cool, inviting shade of blue. The moment we land, the dragons waste no time lowering their heads to drink, their massive forms shifting as they settle in for a well-earned rest.

Caelan touches down beside Deigh, his scales glinting in the fading sunlight. As I slide down his leg, my fingers briefly press against his warm hide in silent gratitude.

“Stay close. It’s not safe.” His deep voice rumbles through my mind like distant thunder.

I nod. “Will do. Take a break.” My lips curve into a small smile, knowing full well he’ll remain alert despite my words.

The others scatter across the area, stretching their sore limbs, relishing the momentary respite. Xaden and Violet move slightly away from the group, seeking a rare sliver of privacy. I shake my head, an amused smile tugging at my lips before I reach for my waterskin.

“You good?”

I turn to see Garrick walking toward me, his usual easy confidence evident in his stride. He settles beside me as I take in our surroundings—lush greenery, vibrant wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze, the lake so impossibly clear it looks like melted ice. It’s beautiful. Almost peaceful.

“I am,” I answer honestly. “And you?”

He exhales a chuckle, stretching his legs out as we sit beneath the shade of a massive tree. “Looking forward to getting back. My ass is numb from all that flying.”

A smirk tugs at my lips. “Tell me about it.”

We fall into easy conversation, his presence grounding me. But even as we talk, my eyes betray me, seeking out someone else.

Liam.

The sound of laughter draws my gaze to the water, where Liam, Rhi, and Ridoc are splashing around like carefree children. He peels his shirt off, the golden glow of the sun catching on his damp skin as he kicks off his boots and dives in. I barely notice Garrick falling silent beside me as my entire world narrows down to him.

Liam.

His name echoes in my mind, my breath catching as I watch him resurface, water streaking down his face, his soaked blond hair falling across his forehead. The sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline, once softened by youth, now speak of a man fully grown. I swallow hard, heat rising to my cheeks as my eyes trace the defined lines of his chest, the sculpted ridges of his stomach.

But it’s not just his body that has my heart stuttering in my chest. It’s his smile—the same one he’s given me for years, the one that feels like warmth on a cold day, like safety when the world is crumbling.

Home.

Liam is home.

And for the first time, I realize I’ve been blind.

He was always there. When I stumbled, when I fell, when I broke—he was there, steady and unwavering. So why didn’t my heart race before? Why didn’t I see what was right in front of me?

Now, the fear grips me. Did I wait too long? Did my indifference push him away? Has he realized he deserves better than someone who only now understands what he means to her?

A lump forms in my throat. I force my gaze away, trying to collect myself, but it’s too late—Xaden is already beside me, his knowing eyes following my line of sight before resting on my face.

I don’t even hesitate when I lean my head against his shoulder, exhaling shakily. “I love him, Xaden.”

The words barely make it past my lips, so quiet, so fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.

Xaden hums, a soft chuckle rumbling through him as he drapes an arm around me. “I know.”

I close my eyes, his reassurance both comforting and terrifying. “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

I sigh, my fingers tightening around my waterskin. “I’m scared I waited too long. That my hesitation made him realize he can have better.”

Xaden shakes his head, his grip on my shoulder firm, anchoring me. “I don’t believe that for a second. But you need to tell him, Y/N. And yeah, he’s going to be shocked—because believe me, he doesn’t expect this—but he will be with you. He’s always wanted to be with you. He has loved you for so long.”

Tears prick at my eyes. “I hope you’re right,” I murmur. “I’ll tell him when we get back.”

I have to. Because losing him would be worse than rejection. Losing him would be losing everything.

I glance back toward the lake. Liam is watching us now, his expression unreadable. Our eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, time ceases to exist. It wasn’t my signet—it was him. He’s the first to break the moment, looking away, and my heart clenches in my chest.

I will fix this.

I have to.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I turn to Xaden. “How’s Violet?”

“She’s pissed, as always.” He smirks, rubbing a hand over his face. “But she understands. Or she will.”

“She always comes back to you,” I remind him. “You’re bonded for life. She’ll understand why.”

He nods, exhaling slowly. “Thanks for always having my back, Y/N.”

I meet his gaze, sincerity shining in his dark eyes. “Always.”

We hug, and unexpectedly, I laugh. The sound morphs into a quiet sob, my emotions tumbling over themselves.

Xaden smiles knowingly. “You don’t always have to be tough.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You think I belong here?”

His expression softens. “Y/N, you deserve to be a rider. You always did.”

The words settle deep, warming something inside me. “I’m glad you’re back,” I admit, thinking of the years that stretched between us.

“You had Liam,” Xaden reminds me.

“It’s not the same,” I whisper. “You’re my brother.”

We look back toward the water, where Liam still lingers, his gaze heavy. I meet it, offering a soft smile. Slowly, his lips curve in response, but there’s something distant in his expression. A hesitation.

And for the first time, I truly understand what people mean when they say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

I just hope I haven’t lost him already.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

And then, all hell breaks loose.

"Caelan?" My voice is edged with worry as a sharp pang of unease races down my spine.

"Hurry! You need to get off the ground!" His voice is a thunderous roar in my mind, vibrating with urgency.

I spin, my eyes darting through the trees, heart hammering against my ribs. And then I see it.

A figure lurks in the shadows between the trunks. Pale—deathly so—its skin is almost translucent, veins red as blood spidering down its face. But its eyes—gods, its eyes—are pools of crimson hunger, glinting with something both intelligent and monstrous.

Shock anchors me to the ground.

"Y/N!" Xaden's voice is a raw command, slicing through my paralysis. "We have to go! Now!"

Before I can process it, he's shoving me toward Caelan, his grip bruising, fueled by sheer desperation. My legs finally obey, and I sprint, throwing myself onto Caelan's back just as he leaps into the sky. The moment we ascend, the others follow, wings beating frantically against the night. Below, the creature crouches low, pressing a skeletal hand to the earth. A sickly gray circle pulses outward from his palm, spreading across the ground like a living disease.

"What the hell is that?!" My stomach lurches at the sight.

"A venin. They drain the life from everything around them," Caelan answers, voice razor-sharp with loathing. "They feed from the ground itself."

Then a sound pierces the night—an ear-splitting, inhuman screech. My blood turns to ice.

Wyvern. Six of them, dark shadows slicing through the sky.

"Alloy daggers only!" Xaden bellows from my left, his voice steady despite the chaos. We all carry them—black-hilted blades forged with the only metal capable of cutting through the unnatural flesh of these creatures. I tighten my grip around mine, bracing for the inevitable.

Then Caelan snarls, his voice vibrating through my bones. "Deigh needs help."

My stomach plummets. I snap my gaze toward the left flank just in time to see two wyverns closing in on Deigh and Liam. My pulse stutters, fear gripping my throat like a vice. No. No, no, no.

"Let’s go! Hurry!" I cry, and Caelan veers sharply, wings slicing through the air as we dive. But we’re still too far. Too slow.

A wyvern lunges. Its jagged teeth sink deep into Deigh’s leg, a sickening crunch echoing through the night. Deigh screams, the sound raw and agonized. The second wyvern strikes from the other side, sending them both careening toward the earth.

"Liam!" His name rips from my throat, raw with terror. My power thrums beneath my skin, a violent force begging to be unleashed. Do something. Do something now.

I throw open the doors to my power—Caelan’s power—and reach. My fingers stretch out toward Liam, toward Deigh, toward the descending wyvern. Time bends to my will.

And stops.

The world stills. The night is silent. The wyvern are frozen mid-air, their wings locked in unnatural stiffness. Deigh, Liam—trapped in the moment before impact.

My chest burns. My head pounds. Caelan’s voice is distant, pleading. "We’re almost there."

I can’t hold it. Every second shreds through me like fire in my veins. But if I let go now, Liam will die.

"You need to release it, or you’ll die." Caelan’s voice is pained, but firm.

"No!" Tears blur my vision. "I can’t—I won’t let them—"

Agony rips through me, molten and unbearable. My breath turns ragged, each inhale molten lead in my throat. The edges of my vision darken, tunneling to nothing.

Not yet. Just a little longer—

We’re close. Almost there. Just—

I let go.

Time slams back into motion. The fall resumes. Deigh plummets, his agonized roar tearing through the night. The wyvern shriek as gravity claims them again. I have seconds.

Caelan collides with the first wyvern, tearing through it with ruthless precision. Blood arcs across the sky as he rips its head clean from its body. I don’t stop to watch. I jump.

The wind whips against me as I plummet toward the second wyvern. Its teeth are embedded in Deigh’s shoulder—and Liam’s abdomen.

I scream, fury and fear coiling into something visceral, something deadly. My daggers flash in the moonlight as I plunge them into the beast’s skull. It shrieks, releasing its grip on Deigh, its body convulsing as it falls lifeless.

But so does Liam.

I reach, fingers grasping, catching his tunic just as he starts to slip. "No! Liam!"

Deigh is barely conscious, wings faltering. We’re too low, too close to the mountains. His body collides with the rocky terrain, momentum sending Liam and me flying into a jagged cliffside. Pain explodes through me as we slam into stone, tumbling to the ground below.

Silence.

Pain.

I can barely breathe. My ribs scream in protest. Every part of me aches, but none of it matters.

Liam.

I force myself to move, crawling toward him with shaking hands. He’s deathly still, his tunic soaked in red. Three puncture wounds mar his abdomen, each leaking life with every passing second.

"No, no, no—Liam!" My hands press desperately against his wounds, but the blood keeps coming, spilling between my fingers. "Stay with me. Stay with me."

He groans, lids fluttering open. And then—he smiles.

A broken, dazed smile. "Y/N… you look like an angel."

I sob, my forehead pressing against his. "I love you, Liam. Please stay with me. Please."

He blinks sluggishly. "I… love…" His voice fades.

His body stills.

"Liam?" My breath catches. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t respond. "LIAM!"

I break. Raw, shattering sobs wrack my body as I press myself to him. But then—a flicker of something. A tingling beneath my fingers.

I glance down. The blood—

Frozen. Suspended in midair, locked in time. His wounds are no longer leaking, the flow halted by an unseen force.

My force.

I press my ear against his chest. A heartbeat. Weak, but still there.

"Xaden is coming!" Caelan’s voice is sharp, cutting through my haze.

I’m trembling, exhausted. I can’t hold on much longer. Xaden lands hard, his expression a mask of worry and barely contained fear.

"I think I stopped the blood," I say, voice thin with exhaustion. "But I can’t move. If I let go, he’ll die."

Xaden doesn’t hesitate. "Then we fly."

I nod weakly. "I won’t let go."

Even if it kills me.

Even if I don’t make it.

Because losing Liam would be worse than death itself.

“I don’t know how to do this. I can’t move. I can’t fly with Liam like this.” My voice is raw, trembling, as I fight the overwhelming weight pressing down on me. My energy is slipping away, seeping from my body like sand through my fingers. My vision blurs at the edges, and I clutch Liam tighter, as if sheer will alone can keep him tethered to this world.

“We need to be quick,” Xaden says, his voice urgent. “You’re losing energy. The longer you hold time, the faster you fade.”

Deigh lets out a labored breath from where he lays on the ground. He can’t fly, not with those wounds, but he’s alive—for now.

“Tairn agreed to carry Deigh back,” Violet says suddenly, appearing next to Xaden. Her usually steady voice wavers, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Liam isn’t just another rider to her. He’s her friend, her shadow. Losing him isn’t an option.

“We can use parts of Violet’s saddle to strap you and Liam to Caelan—if he agrees,” Xaden says. His tone is firm, but I don’t miss the way his gaze flickers over me, assessing, calculating. “But it’s dangerous, Y/N. If you lose consciousness mid-flight, you and Liam will fall.”

I nod. “There’s no other way. I will not let go of him.”

Xaden’s jaw tightens, his eyes dark with something I can’t quite name. “Think about this,” Caelan pleads through our bond. “You might die. I can feel you slipping.”

Tears spill freely down my face, my body trembling from exhaustion and pain. “I will not let him die!” I scream, my voice cracking with desperation. My heart is thundering, my entire being thrumming with defiance, and Caelan—my soul, my partner—understands. He bows his massive head in silent agreement.

“Then we move,” Xaden says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “We’re going to Aretia. It’s a two-hour flight. Basgiath is too far. You wouldn’t make it.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry as I meet his gaze. “Are you sure?” I whisper. We both know what this means—Violet will see her brother. The brother she thought was dead for six years.

Xaden doesn’t hesitate. “I will not let you both die.”

The others move quickly. Bodhi, Ridoc, and Garrick lift Liam’s and my body, careful, reverent, while Xaden secures the saddle straps. My muscles scream in protest as they settle me against Liam’s unmoving form, fastening us tightly to Caelan’s back. The moment we’re secure, the dragons launch into the sky. The ground disappears beneath us, and I clutch Liam closer, bracing against the icy wind.

His face is pale—too pale. His light hair whips around, strands tangling over his closed eyes. He looks peaceful, but I know better. He is slipping.

Tears spill onto his chest as I press my forehead against him. “Please stay with me,” I whisper. My voice is nothing more than a fragile breath against the storm.

The minutes stretch into eternity. Time loses meaning. My breaths grow shallow, my limbs numb. Every fiber of my being is focused on one thing—holding on.

“I’m so tired, Caelan,” I murmur through the bond, my consciousness wavering.

“Don’t fall asleep, timeless one,” he urges.

He tells me stories. About the first time he saw me. The moment I touched his mind during Presentation. The way he knew, instantly, that I was his during Threshing. His voice keeps me tethered, even as darkness claws at my edges.

Then, a voice cuts through the haze. “Aretia ahead!”

I blink sluggishly, my vision barely registering the outlines of the hidden outpost. The world around me is distant, muffled, like I’m underwater. My lips are numb, my fingers frozen. I can’t stop shivering.

Caelan lands with a jarring impact, pain lancing through my body. Hands reach for us—urgent voices shouting commands, but I can’t understand them. My thoughts are sluggish, fragmented.

“Alert him! Get them inside, now!”

The hands pulling at me are too warm. The heat burns against my frozen skin, yet I can’t seem to stop trembling. My soul feels hollow, drained of everything I am.

Then, a touch—soft, almost reverent—on my shoulders. A voice, a whisper, slips through the veil of exhaustion.

“Let go, Y/N.”

“N-no…”

“You’re dying. You need to let go.”

“I can’t let him die,” I sob, my voice barely audible.

The voice soothes, a presence wrapping around me like a phantom embrace. “It’s okay. I’ve got him.”

A cold dread pools in my stomach. Is it death speaking? Is he here to take Liam?

Then a sharp voice cuts through my haze, grounding me. “Y/N! It’s Brennan! He can mend Liam—but only if you stop your powers!”

Brennan.

Hope flickers, weak but still burning. My lips part in something like a smile, my body surrendering at last. I let go. My arms fall limp at my sides, and the world fades to black.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

—Xaden’s POV—

Y/N’s body sags, her arms slipping away from Liam. And suddenly, fresh blood blooms, pouring from the wounds she had held frozen in time.

“Shit! Take her to the side—I need space!” Brennan shouts, his hands already moving over Liam’s abdomen. Power crackles through the air as he chants, his hands glowing with healing energy.

My gaze snaps to Y/N.

My heart stops.

She’s too still. Her skin is ghostly pale, her lips an unnatural shade of purple. Dark bruises stain beneath her closed eyes. Blood coats her in streaks and splatters.

“Y/N?” My voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. I stumble toward her. She doesn’t move.

She doesn’t breathe.

“Y/N!” I roar, shaking her lifeless body.

Frantic, I press two fingers against her throat.

Nothing.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” My hands fist in her tunic. I drop to my knees and start CPR, my movements desperate. “Brennan! What do I do?” My voice cracks, panic clawing at my chest.

“I can’t help them both.” Brennan’s voice is tight, full of impossible choices. “You have to decide. I finish healing Liam, or I start on her.”

My world splinters. A sob rips from my throat.

Y/N would never forgive me. She’d never forgive herself.

“Help him first,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

Minutes stretch into eternity before Brennan rushes to my side. “What happened?” he demands, his hands already pressing against Y/N’s unmoving form.

“She’s a time-stopper,” I manage, barely holding myself together. “She froze his blood flow—but it drained her too fast.”

Brennan exhales sharply, understanding washing over his features. Then, without another word, he begins to mend her.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

—Y/N's POV—

When I open my eyes, everything hurts. A dull, aching pain thrums through every part of my body, heavy and unrelenting. My limbs feel like they’re weighed down with lead, my head pounding as if I’ve been thrown through the sky and slammed into the earth.

The first thing I notice is warmth. Sunlight spills through the tall windows, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow. Birds flit outside, their wings casting fleeting shadows across the floor. The air is still, carrying the faint scent of herbs and clean linen.

I inhale shakily, lifting a trembling hand to my face, fingertips brushing against my temple before tangling in my hair. A groan escapes my lips as I try to stretch, my muscles protesting the movement. My body feels foreign, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore, like I’m borrowing a shell that’s been through hell and barely pieced back together.

I take a slow, measured breath and force myself to sit up. The room around me blurs for a moment before steadying, revealing what looks like a medical ward. My feet touch the cool floor, sending a shiver up my spine. I’m dressed only in a loose shirt, the fabric brushing against my skin just above my knees. Every movement takes effort, but I push forward, step by step, drawn by something deeper than thought.

Then I see him.

Liam.

A curtain separates our beds, but I round it, and there he is—lying still, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. His face is pale but peaceful, his blond hair tousled, his lips slightly parted as if caught in a dream. He looks so serene, as though he’s untouched by the nightmare that brought us here.

My breath catches in my throat, my vision blurring with tears. I reach out before I can stop myself, my fingers ghosting over his cheek. He’s warm—so warm—and the relief that floods my veins is almost unbearable. A sob rises in my chest, my fingers trembling as they brush his skin.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

I pull a chair close, not willing to put any distance between us. My hand finds his, our fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to fit together. I stroke the back of his hand absentmindedly, pushing away strands of hair that fall across his forehead. Just looking at him, being close to him, grounds me in a way I didn’t know I needed. My exhaustion takes hold, pulling me under, and before I know it, I drift into sleep.

A murmur of voices pulls me back into awareness.

“Looks uncomfortable,” Garrick whispers.

“Well, we couldn’t just put them in one bed, now could we?” Xaden replies dryly.

“I mean…” Bodhi shrugs.

A smack echoes through the air. “They haven’t talked about it yet,” Xaden sighs.

“It’s so obvious,” Garrick mutters.

“It’s between them,” Xaden finishes firmly.

A groggy voice cuts through their hushed conversation. “You’re being loud.”

Liam.

His blue eyes blink open slowly, his expression hazy with pain. His lips part as he exhales a ragged breath. “I feel like shit.”

Xaden lets out a breath of relief. “Man, we thought you died…”

“You nearly did,” Garrick adds solemnly.

Liam frowns slightly, confusion creasing his brow. “What happened?” His gaze flickers around the room before landing on me. He stills, eyes widening slightly as he takes in the way my head rests against his arm, my fingers wrapped tightly around his hand.

His lips part again, and this time his voice is a little sharper. “What happened?”

My head shoots up and I realize I’m still holding him. The moment our eyes meet, my fingers unclasp from his like I’ve been burned. My face heats, my pulse racing.

Xaden clears his throat. “Okay, we’ll leave you two alone.” He shoves Garrick and Bodhi toward the door, muttering under his breath. The door clicks shut behind them, leaving an unbearable silence in their wake.

“Hi,” Liam says softly.

I swallow hard. “Hi.”

My throat constricts, my emotions tightening into a painful knot. I don’t know how to hold back the tears that well up again, spilling over before I can stop them. My shoulders shake, my breath hitching. “I thought I lost you, Li,” I whisper brokenly.

His expression softens instantly. “I’m here.”

The moment he opens his arms, I fall into him, my body wracked with sobs. His arms tighten around me, anchoring me, and I grip his shirt as if he’ll disappear if I let go. “I tried to be there faster,” I cry, my words tumbling out between ragged breaths. “I tried, but I was too far away. I saw Deigh, and the wyverns, and then you—oh god, Liam, there was so much blood. You weren’t breathing, and I didn’t know what to do. I stopped time in your wounds, but your heart—your heart was barely beating, and I thought—I thought—”

“Y/N.” His hands find my face, cradling it gently. His thumbs brush away my tears, his gaze steady, grounding. “I live because of you. You saved my life.”

I shake my head fiercely. “I should have been there sooner. I should have—”

“No,” he whispers. “You did everything. And I’m here. Because of you.”

I let out a shuddering breath, my forehead resting against his. The warmth of him, the steadiness of him, makes my chest ache with something too big to name.

His voice is softer now, almost hesitant. “I remember one thing before everything went black.”

I pull back slightly, blinking away the remaining tears. “What?”

Liam’s eyes search mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. “You told me you loved me.”

The breath is stolen from my lungs. My heart stutters.

I could pretend I don’t remember. I could laugh it off, say it was delirium or desperation. But why would I? Why would I waste another second pretending I don’t know exactly what my heart wants?

“I did,” I whisper, my voice trembling. "And I’m sorry it took nearly losing you for me to realize it. I don’t understand how I never saw it before—how I never saw you. Liam, you have the most beautiful soul I’ve ever known. You have this way of making even the darkest days seem a little brighter, of making the impossible feel possible. You’ve always been there—without hesitation, without expecting anything in return. Every time I doubted myself, you reminded me who I was. Every time I stumbled, you caught me. You believed in me even when I couldn’t believe in myself.

You were the one who made me laugh when I thought I’d forgotten how. The one who stayed up with me on those endless nights when my past wouldn’t let me sleep, holding me, keeping me tethered when I felt like I was slipping away. You listened when no one else did, and you saw parts of me I didn’t even realize I was showing. You never turned away—not from my fears, not from my flaws, not even from the parts of me that I thought were too broken to love.

You are everything, Liam. The best thing that has ever happened to me. And I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t ever want to know. I love you, Liam. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anything in this world."

His hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Then his lips are on mine.

It’s soft at first—hesitant, as if neither of us believes this moment is real. But then it deepens, and warmth spreads through every inch of me. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I melt against him, pouring every ounce of feeling into the kiss.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead presses against mine, both of us breathless, both of us smiling softly.

“Thank you for saving me,” he whispers.

“You would have done the same.”

And then I kiss him again.

[dee-writes-angst]

DROWNING

FEATURING Liam Mairi x reader

SUMMARY seeing the ghost of you hurts almost as bad as watching you go.

CONTENT WARNINGS major character loss, depression, depictions of grief

AUTHORS NOTE I don't know what it is right now, but I am just living for writing about grief. Sorry, not sorry! <3

"Look at me," Liam croaks from where he's splayed out on the ground by Deigh. Violet is sobbing loudly in Xaden's arms on the other side of him, but you can't hear them. Not when your ears feel like they've been filled with cotton when the love of your life is lying weakly on the ground beside you dying.

He's dying.

Oh gods.

As the realization sinks in, a heavy weight presses against your chest, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic rises like a tide within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. You reach out to Liam, your hands trembling as they hover over him, unsure of what to do, of how to help him.

"Stay with me, Liam," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, yet it reverberates with desperation. "Please, don't leave me."

But Liam's eyes are distant, glassy orbs that seem to stare into a void beyond your reach. His breathing is shallow, each exhale a painful reminder of his fragile state. You feel a tear escape your eye, tracing a path down your cheek as you struggle to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to engulf you.

Around you, the world seems to blur into an indistinct haze. The sounds of chaos and anguish fade into a distant hum, overshadowed by the deafening silence that fills your ears. All that exists in this moment is Liam, lying motionless before you, his life slipping away with each passing second.

Memories flood your mind like a torrential downpour, each one a bittersweet reminder of the moments you've shared together. The laughter, the tears, the whispered promises exchanged in the dead of night—they all swirl together in a kaleidoscope of emotions, too painful to bear yet too precious to let go.

You clench your fists, feeling the sting of helplessness gnawing at your insides. You would give anything—anything at all—to turn back time, to undo whatever led you to this moment, to save Liam from this cruel fate.

But time is a relentless force, indifferent to your pleas and regrets. And as you watch the light slowly fade from Liam's eyes, you realize with a sinking heart that there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"Please, Liam," you whisper, your voice cracking with grief. "I love you."

Liam's gaze meets yours, a flicker of recognition dances in his fading eyes. His lips part, words trembling on the precipice of his breath. With a herculean effort, he manages to muster the strength to speak, his voice barely a whisper, but each syllable heavy with emotion.

"Please…," he rasps, his voice barely audible above the din of chaos surrounding you. "You have to… keep living. For me."

His words strike you like a dagger to the heart, the pain of his plea tearing through the fragile facade of composure you've struggled to maintain. Tears stream down your cheeks unabated, hot and salty against your skin as you shake your head in disbelief.

"No, Liam," you choke out, your voice raw with anguish. "I can't… I can't do this without you."

But Liam's hand finds yours, his touch feeble yet filled with a quiet strength that belies his frailty. His fingers intertwine with yours, holding on with a determination born of love and desperation.

"You have to," he insists, his voice growing weaker with each passing moment. "You're stronger than you think… You can't let this… destroy you."

His words hang in the air like a solemn vow, a testament to the depth of his love and the sacrifice he's willing to make for you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the truth mirrored within them—the agonizing realization that this is goodbye.

A sob escapes your lips, a gut-wrenching cry that echoes through the desolate landscape of your heart. You bury your face in Liam's chest, clinging to him with a desperation born of fear and despair.

"I can't do this without you," you whisper brokenly, your voice a mere shadow of its former strength. "Please, don't leave me."

But Liam's grip weakens, his breaths growing shallower with each passing second. His eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, there's nothing but the deafening silence of impending loss.

Then, with a final exhale, he slips away, leaving behind nothing but the hollow ache of his absence. And as you cradle his lifeless form in your arms, the weight of his words settles over you like a shroud, a solemn reminder of the unbearable burden of grief that now lies ahead.

For in that moment, you realize that you've lost more than just the love of your life—you've lost a part of yourself, a piece of your soul that can never be replaced. And as you mourn the emptiness that now fills your heart, you know that nothing will ever be the same again.

There is no respite from the suffocating weight of grief that hangs heavy around your neck, dragging you down into the depths of despair.

You move through the world like a shadow of your former self, hollow and numb, the spark of life extinguished from your eyes. Friends and loved ones reach out to offer comfort, but their words fall on deaf ears, their gestures meaningless in the face of the gaping chasm that now consumes your soul.

Nights are the cruelest, long and lonely stretches of darkness that stretch on into eternity. You lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind consumed by thoughts of Liam—of all the things you wish you had said, all the moments you wish you could relive, all the ways you failed to save him.

The pain is relentless, a constant companion that gnaws at your insides, leaving you hollow and empty. You try to drown it out with alcohol, with drugs, with anything that will numb the ache in your heart, but nothing can fill the void left by Liam's absence.

And so, you continue to exist, day after day, trapped in a never-ending cycle of sorrow and regret. You wonder if it would have been easier if you had died with him, if you could have spared yourself this endless torment.

But deep down, you know that even death would offer no escape from the torment of your memories, no relief from the agony of your loss. And so you carry on, a shell of the person you once were, forever haunted by the ghost of the love you lost.

Days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, but the ache in my heart remained unyielding, a constant reminder of the void that Liam's absence had left behind. I found myself adrift in a sea of memories, unable to escape the relentless tide of grief that threatened to consume me.

Each morning brought with it a new battle, a struggle to find the strength to face another day without him by my side. I would drag myself out of bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, my mind clouded with sorrow, and force myself to move forward, one agonizing step at a time.

But no matter how hard I tried to bury my pain beneath layers of routine and responsibility, it always found a way to claw its way back to the surface, a gaping wound that refused to heal. I would catch myself staring blankly at the wall, lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, my mind a swirling maelstrom of regret and longing.

It was in those moments of quiet desperation that I would feel him—Liam's presence hovering just beyond the edge of my consciousness, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness. I would close my eyes and reach out to him, my fingers grasping at the empty air, longing for the warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice, the comfort of his embrace.

But he was always just out of reach, a ghostly apparition that danced on the fringes of my perception, taunting me with the promise of solace that I knew would never come. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to let go—not when the mere thought of him was the only thing keeping me tethered to the world of the living.

I tried to lose myself in my work, throwing myself into my studies with a fervor bordering on obsession. But no matter how many hours I spent buried in books, no matter how many experiments I conducted in the sterile confines of the lab, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at my soul.

My friends and family tried to help, offering their support and encouragement in the hopes of lifting my spirits. They would invite me out for dinner, take me for long walks in the park, even organize weekend getaways to try and distract me from my pain.

But I couldn't escape the suffocating weight of grief that hung over me like a shroud, a darkness that followed me wherever I went, tainting even the most mundane moments with its oppressive presence. I would smile and nod and pretend to be okay, but inside, I was crumbling, piece by agonizing piece.

It wasn't until one particularly dark night, when the weight of my sorrow threatened to crush me beneath its relentless onslaught, that I finally reached my breaking point. I found myself standing on the edge of a precipice, staring out into the yawning abyss that stretched out before me, the urge to let go—to surrender to the sweet release of oblivion—almost overwhelming.

But then, in the depths of my despair, I felt a hand on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that pulled me back from the brink. I turned, expecting to see nothing but the empty darkness of my own mind, but instead, I found myself face to face with Liam—or rather, a ghostly apparition that bore his likeness.

I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. "Liam?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath in the stillness of the night.

He smiled—a sad, wistful smile that tugged at my heartstrings. "It's me," he said, his voice a mere whisper in the silence that surrounded us.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling with disbelief. "But how?" I asked, my voice choked with emotion. "How is this possible?"

Liam's smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sadness. "I'm not really here," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm just a figment of your imagination—a manifestation of your grief."

I shook my head, unwilling to accept the truth. "No," I protested, my voice rising in desperation. "You're real. You're here with me. I can feel you."

But Liam's expression remained unchanged, his eyes filled with a quiet resignation. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible above the sound of my own heartbeat. "I wish I could stay, but I can't. You have to let me go."

I felt a surge of panic rise within me, a primal instinct that screamed out in protest. "No," I cried, my voice echoing in the emptiness that surrounded us. "I won't. I can't. I need you."

But Liam shook his head, his features fading into the darkness like smoke on the wind. "You don't need me," he said, his voice a distant echo in the recesses of my mind. "You're stronger than you think. You have to find the strength to carry on, even without me."

And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the darkness, the emptiness of his absence a physical ache that echoed in the depths of my soul. I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face, my heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.

But even as I wept, a small seed of hope took root within me—a tiny flicker of light amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. I realized that Liam was right—that I couldn't continue to cling to him, to the memory of what we once had.

I had to find a way to let go—to honor his memory by living my life to the fullest, by embracing the future with open arms, even in the face of uncertainty and pain. It wouldn't be easy, I knew, but I was determined to try—for Liam, and for myself.

And so, with a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, I picked myself up off the ground and began to walk—away from the edge of the abyss, away from the darkness that had threatened to consume me, toward a future filled with possibility and hope.

It wouldn't happen overnight, I knew. The road ahead would be long and difficult, fraught with challenges and setbacks that would test my resolve at every turn. But I was ready—ready to face whatever the future held, armed with nothing but my love for Liam and the knowledge that he would always be with me, guiding me every step of the way.

And as I walked, the darkness began to recede, slowly but surely, replaced by the warm glow of dawn breaking on the horizon. I smiled, tears still streaming down my face, but now they were tears of hope, of gratitude, of a newfound sense of purpose.

For even though Liam was gone, his love remained—a beacon of light that would guide me through the darkest nights and lead me toward a future filled with possibility and promise.

And with that thought in my heart, I took my first steps into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that I would never truly be alone. Liam would always be with me, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness, a love that would never fade away.

[suebswrites]

Liam sits on the hallway floor, carving his little wooden figurines, pretending he’s just doing what he’s told. Not wishing he was on the other side of the door.

[saintsanddevils]

Weaver of Fate

Liam Mairi x Fem!Reader

Summary: No matter how long it’s been, every part of you mourns Liam. You can’t let him go. With the help of your signet, you rewrite his fate. But at what cost?

Warnings: angst, grief, mentions of death & blood, eventual happy ending

Author’s Note: I think this can be seen as an alternate universe to my “Unravel Me” fic

Word Count: 2.8K

Posted on AO3

Masterlist

Fog envelops my steps as I walk across charred earth. The chill of the night clings to my cloak. It’s quiet, a stillness settling over the field where hours earlier, it was complete chaos.

Sulfur and ash still fill the air of Athebyne. Rot and the coppery smell of blood cling to me as I force myself to not look at the destroyed city. Sharp memories from hours ago hit me like a tidal wave. The roaring of dragons. The palpable panic coursing through our squad as Xaden barked orders. Violet’s lightning cracking across the sky. Cloaked Venin swarming the city. The screams of Athebyne’s citizens.

The echo of their cries is still here, haunting every step I take as I turn away from the city. I’m not here for Athebyne. I don’t wish to relive what will surely bring me nightmares for years to come. No. I stay as far from the city as I can.

Instead, I go to the last place I wish to be.

The earth here is stained in crimson, scorched by dragon fire. A strange sense of dreadful awareness fills me as I stare at the ground.

This is where Liam Mairi died.

Where I watched him choke on his last breaths, clinging to the red scales of his dragon, Deigh, before death finally came for him. Seconds away from entering the afterlife and he still had a smile rivaling the brightness of the sun.

That’s who Liam was. He was the light of a new dawn, the feel of fresh dew on grass, the racing of a pulse. He was the embodiment of life.

How cruel to die so young, fight a war he never should be apart of. He was the best of us. He is the best of us.

Flashes of stolen kisses in corridors, hands clasped tightly, and whispered affections plague my mind.

“We’ll be together again, in the next life.”

I flinch at the memory of his breath on my lips. His hands losing their grip on me as his eyes dimmed, his soul fading.

“I wish we had more time.” I choked through my sobs, clinging to him, begging every god who could hear me to let him stay.

Liam had only given me a soft smile. The sort of smile he only reserved for those early mornings when we awoke in one another’s arms. It was full of something so hopeful and soothing, it stabbed my gut like a jagged knife to see it when he lay dying.

“Death cannot stop me from seeing you again,” he gave me a swift, soft kiss. It burned my lips. “I will always love you.”

The burning behind my eyes is unavoidable now as tears stream down my cheeks, dripping to the dirt stained by his blood. My eyes are swollen from hours of crying and I’m shocked to find I still have tears to spare.

I don’t have time to cry. I only have a few hours to get this right.

Kneeling to the ground, I lay my hands atop the bloodied soil, closing my eyes. Breathing deep and slow, I open the door to the power lying in wait beneath my skin.

I’ve never done this before. It’s new and desperate of me, but I have to try.

Hope clings to me like a second skin as I breathe, in and out, concentrating on the feel of the earth beneath my skin.

My signet is healing, but something crawls beneath my skin that is not of this world. Every time I heal and mend, the power hungers for something more. I feared, for a long time, this was something pulling me to become Venin. Something that takes and takes, wreaking havoc and stealing life. But it only occurred to me after Liam’s death that it wasn’t anything like that. It wasn’t a hunger for power, but a sense of not reaching my full potential. Like having a set of keys and a locked door before me. I only need to find which key will open the door.

Taking a vial from my pocket, I don’t look as I coat my hands in the substance within. It feels grainy and powdery. I know without looking it’s dark, coating and staining the skin of my palms.

It’s the ashes of Liam’s body.

After his death, his body was brought back to Tyrrendor after the battle and stacked upon a pyre. He was burned, as is custom, and I can still feel the cloying smell of burned flesh choking the air. I had stood there for hours until the flames were mere cinders and his body was nothing but ash.

Every second since his death, I’ve become a ghost. There’s a pain that lingers, hanging between my ribs, that sharpens and intensifies with every breath. The idea of continuing this life without him tortures me. After all the love he’s given me. Every smile, every touch, it was all stolen by time.

I don’t know what made me do it. Something clicked inside of me as I watched the flames of his pyre. An instinct I trusted immediately as a plan slowly began to form. When Xaden finally left my side and I was left alone, I bolted forward, grasping an empty vial from my jacket and filling it to the brim with his ashes.

That was an hour ago.

Now, I’m holding on to every instinct I’ve been following since his death. Concentrating on the ash coating my hands, I pour everything, every ounce of my power, into the earth. I’ve always imagined my healing signet to be a tapestry of golden threads, weaving the body to mend at my will. Now, I see traces of withered, dead strands in my minds-eye, lying in wait as the golden threads of my power reach for them.

Pain pricks up my spine as my power extends, those golden threads stretching as far as they can. My pulse beats heavily in my blood, breaths heaving from my lungs as I push myself to the limit. Burnout isn’t an option.

Like the snap of broken rope, I’m untethered, my power sparking from my fingertips as I fall to the ground, heaving. Gasping breaths, I finally open my eyes, staring at the blood-stained dirt beneath my splayed fingers.

It didn’t work.

I try again. The dirt caking under my fingernails as I dig deep. I pour myself into my power, straining to catch anything that will reach back.

Nothing.

I shake my hands out, flexing the muscles and tendons, and do it again.

Nothing.

It’s not fucking working.

Rage slowly rises, burning like acid in my stomach as I let every frustration, every ounce of bitterness, consume me.

A scream escapes my lips. And another. Until I’m left screaming and heaving in the dirt.

I scream and scream and scream.

It’s hoarse and echoes through the valley. I sense my dragon’s distress, but I block them out. I need to stay focused.

I can’t let Liam go. I won’t let him go. Never again will he be separated from me. In this life or any other.

This time, once my voice lets the last of my frustration die in my throat, making it rough and hard to swallow, I close my eyes and picture Liam. Every dip and curve of his face. Every freckle, mole, scar, and dimple. Muscles lining his arms, his relic tattoo stark against the skin of his arm and collarbone. The way his hair gilded the sky in the afternoon sun. His infectious laugh. How his teasing and flirting were intoxicating and thrilling. His attention a drug as his crystal blue eyes would trace me, holding me captive.

Warmth seeps into my bones as I grip the dirt, desperately. I cling to every memory I have of him. Every trace of life within him, pulling him back to me, like an anchor.

The memory of his smile, so carefree and brilliant. The way he lit up the darkest parts of me with every tilt of his lips, his eyes glittering with mischief. I always felt privileged to be able to see him smile at me so freely. It was always there for the taking and he gave them to me without ever holding back.

The memory of his hands clasping my hips for the first time, adjusting my stance on the mat during training. How a blush rose to both our cheeks when our eyes met. His flirtatious smile consuming his face, brightening the world with it.

The memory of the first time he cornered me in the hall, longing and desperation clinging to him as he confessed how much he wanted me. How much he needed me in his life as more than a friend. I remember returning his affections with a soft kiss that had him easily confessing how much he loved me. My laugh echoed in the hall before his own joined mine.

Every memory of his lips against mine, soft and searching, insistent and desperate, strong and sure. Even our last kiss, the morning before we left for Athebyne, where he kissed every inch of my skin until I was blushing and swollen with them. His tongue tracing my collarbone before whispering sweet nothings into my skin, sending goosebumps down my body.

The feel of his hand in mine is the last memory that keeps me centered and focus. The way his palm slid against mine, fitting entirely too well to not call it fate. To not call what lay between us a form of love so true and destined, it felt like breathing.

“Death cannot stop me from seeing you again. I will always love you.”

And just like that, I breathe. I breathe long and slow, letting my memories consume me, carry me, guide me.

With every memory, every brush of his presence in my minds-eye, the glittering golden threads of my power slowly begin weave together. I’m so lost in the depths of my mind, clinging to the lingering imprints of Liam, that I don’t notice the spark.

I open my eyes, gasping as I see light shining from beneath my palms. It’s a wondrous sight, something I can’t look away from. And I feel…. I feel the soul of the earth, the roots far below, responding to my touch as something beats beneath my skin. A steady rhythm.

Almost like a heartbeat.

I’m doing it. I’m doing it!

I can’t help but inflate with hope, smiling at the strangeness of my power as it buries further and further until I feel every rock and blade of grass around me.

A sudden flare of blinding light, chaotic and bright, breaks across the field from beneath my palms, stealing the last of my energy, before I fall to the dirt like a puppet cut from their strings, darkness clouding my vision.

The last thing I sense, before I let the darkness wash over me, is a slow heartbeat and a firm chest beneath my hands.

———

I wake to the sound of my name. It’s desperate and unsure, breathless and hopeful. Rough, shaking hands hold me, arms firm around my body as those hands cradle my face. My eyes blink slowly until I’m staring up at a predawn sky, the night and stars disappearing as the sun slowly rises in the distance.

It takes a moment for me to remember someone is holding me. That I’m not alone.

I jolt when my eyes lock on blue ones.

“Liam?” I choke, voice hoarse.

He smiles, tears in his eyes as he stares down at me, holding me closer. “It’s me.”

My hands shoot out, tentatively touching his cheek, his nose, his jaw. He closes his eyes at my touch, leaning into it. My heart soars as I feel his skin, warm and full of life. The smell of him washes over me, so familiar I breathe it in greedily. I leap from his hold, wanting to get closer to it, to him. I wrap my arms around his neck, grasping on to him as a sob tears from my chest. Liam holds me just as tight, arms banding around me, as if reassuring me that he’s really here. Maybe even reassuring himself.

“How?” He whispers against my hair.

I shake my head, never leaving the comfort of his chest as I bury myself in him.

“I couldn’t do it,” I whisper. “I couldn’t let you go. I knew I could bring you back, so… I did.”

Liam pulls away, his fingers tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. It’s still dark, but the small traces of dawn light his eyes a calming blue that reminds me of the sea in sunlight. Glittering and beautiful. It’s so familiar, the ache in my chest slowly ebbs.

“You brought me back?” His whisper is uncertain, but his face tells me everything. It’s as familiar as my own. The way his eyes hold traces of hope and longing.

I smile brilliantly up at him. “Death can’t keep us apart.”

A breath escapes parted lips before he surges forward. His lips find mine and nothing about this kiss is soft. It’s desperate, like clinging to life with bare hands, trying to keep oneself from leaving this world and on to the next with every breath. It’s aching, like the hollow in my chest that is slowly knitting itself together with every brush of his skin, every breath he takes. It’s consuming, like the love that surges between us, real and everlasting. Something so unbreakable, even death can’t stop us from being together once more.

That thought alone has the tears stream anew down my cheeks as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, opening my mouth to let his tongue remind me what it feels like to live. To love. To cherish.

I climb atop him, something desperate clawing its way beneath my skin, as I cling to him, hands grasping at his hair. He’s just as rough, just as searching and overcome with this need to feel alive. His rough, calloused hands dive beneath my shirt, touching my skin. I moan at the feel of him, his skin so familiar, it’s imbedded into my own.

The slide of his skin against mine, his hands inching up my spine, makes me shiver. He pulls me even closer, lips now tracing my jaw, nipping my throat, sucking the skin of my collarbone. He groans as my breaths come out raggedly. His hands now pressing into me, forming bruises. It grounds me.

He’s here. He’s actually here.

With my hands in his hair, I pull him back to my lips, kissing him with abandon. Reminding me this is real.

When his hands slide down my skin, I moan once more at the feel of his callouses. Gods, I need him. I need-

He pulls his skin away from me and I grunt in frustration.

He laughs against my lips, before kissing me anew, this one sweeter, gentler. The racing of our heartbeats echoes between us as we slowly come up for air.

When he gives me another slow, burning, lingering kiss, he smiles against me. “Whatever you did, however you did it, thank you.”

I shake my head. “You don’t need to thank—“

“I do.” His grip tightens, holding me closer still. “How can I not? You brought me back. It’s a gift to be in your arms again. To be breathing.” He shakes his head before touching his forehead to mine, closing his eyes and breathing deep. “I’ll never stop being grateful. I don’t deserve you.”

I soften, my hands tracing his jaw as I lean in, kissing him once more. “We deserve each other.”

With his hand clasped in mine, everything is as it should be. The beat of his heart beneath my palm is the calm in the storm, reassuring me I will never be alone. Never again.

Sunlight breaks through the clouds ahead and if sparkles across the morning dew. I can’t help the hope rising inside of me at the sight. A new dawn, a new beginning. Together.

I close my eyes, basking in the sun, holding Liam close. Its warmth is similar to his touch. All-consuming, reassuring, and constant. A beacon in the darkness.

For the first time, I take a long, deep breath, knowing this is not our end. With him by my side, I can face anything.

Nothing will keep us apart now. Not the Venin. Not the looming war ahead. Not even death.

Not even when my eyes open, blinking in the sunlight, and traces of red, the color of blood and sacrifice, glimmer in the depths of my irises.

Unravel Me