#fourth wing x oc

[eviesaurusrex]

tale as old as time | X. Riorson

Xaden Riorson x Aurelia Melgren (OC)

summary: Usually, he’s the dangerous, unapproachable wingleader in public, but since a few days, Xaden Riorson can’t bare to be apart from Aurelia Melgren.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none really, mentions of past injuries, dragons, Xaden being touch-starved after admitting his feelings, Xaden’s shadows, Tairn being Tairn, two idiots in love, childhood friends-to-lovers, not entirely proofread

author’s note: Lately, I really am all over the place with my writing for fandoms lol. This could turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested—I can also switch this up into a typical reader-insert starring YN, just let me know!

divider by @enchanthings-a

It started right after Threshing.

First, she almost didn’t heed it no mind, not even realizing a change in his daily routines. Sometimes, she felt his eyes lingering on her whenever they passed one another in the hallways of Basgiath on their way to classes or formation in the morning. Other times, she felt him walking closely next to her, the backs of their hands brushing against one another, letting sparks of electricity travel through her bones, dancing on her skin.

All of those incidents, Aurelia categorized as mere blips in reality—undoubtedly enjoying them, but knowing they would not be present for the remainder of their days at the War College.

But then, the shadows started to act up.

Rea knew how masterfully Xaden wielded his signet, being in total control of it; she had watched him train with Garrick and the others and had even gotten a taste of his skills herself. So, for them to act up all of a sudden as soon as she was near a particularly dark corner?

Highly unlikely.

The day on which she woke up with one of those shadowy, smoky tendrils almost lovingly wrapped around her wrist like a delicate bracelet? She knew something had shifted, that something was certainly different than prior to Threshing. And she started to notice more and more:

Xaden casually walking down the hallway of her dorm floor by utter coincidence when she opened her door to head out for breakfast? The way his hand almost naturally found its spot on the small of her back, resting heavily and comfortingly there until they reached the door to the dining hall, his fingers pressing softly into the fabric of her uniform before letting go?

His long-lingering glances across the tables atop the leader platform now so obvious, she had to be blind (or dead) not to notice them?

The way they sat in comfortable silence on the parapet on a particularly starry night because he knew how much she loved stargazing? Hands brushing against one another on the withered stone, one finger wrapped around the other’s? The heavy feeling of his gaze on her profile while she watched the spectacle in the dark-tinted sky in awe and wonder?

She really had to be blind not to see it.

On this particular morning, Aurelia cradled a cup of coffee between both her hands, eyes focused on the dark-haired wingleader as he ate his scrambled eggs while being in deep conversation with Garrick. Taking a revitalizing sip, she patiently waited, smiling softly as Tairn seemed to wake up and growled in her mind. “Your thoughts of the wingleader disturbed my sleep, Stormy One. Keep this up, and I might not be inclined to continue to tolerate him near me.” The Melgren rolled her eyes at that. “Oh, please. I wouldn’t wager my marital bliss because I keep on fantasizing about incinerating the rider of my mate,” she shot back with a humorous tone down their bond, still letting her smile like a fool.

It was exhilarating to be chosen by a dragon, and Aurelia was sure she would keep on grinning like an idiot until the day of her last ride.

The black dragon huffed into her mind. “First: The bond of mates is far more superior to the human concept of marriage, girl. And second: Do not dare think of your last flight—already. We have years upon years, Stormy One. Your skills are too refined to be wasted on an early death. Instead, continue to dream of the rider who is now staring at you—it’s far less insulting.” It was almost as if Tairn chuckled deeply as her eyes fell on Xaden again, watching his onyx eyes soften ever so slightly as he reveled in the attention she granted him.

A small smile danced across her lips as she took another sip of her cooling coffee, her eyes never leaving his handsome face, remembering his whispered words after Threshing when the healers had worked on her bruised and battered body, thinking she wasn’t conscious enough to recall any of it. Until the day before, she had accounted those words to the delirious state she had been in due to the blood loss, but now, with the shadows accompanying her and the expression on his face? The evidence of his shift in person toward her? Aurelia was sure she didn’t dream up his confession.

They held each other’s gazes locked until most of the cadets had left for classes and training, and only then did the woman rise and leave for Battle Brief herself, waiting for him in the hallway. Leaning against a wall, she had her arms crossed loosely in front of her black-clad chest, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as he finally made his way out as well, spotting her instantly. Xaden walked over to her with long, purposeful strides, graceful and lethal as ever, fingers gently twitching as his stare fell from her eyes, raking over the lower part of her face.

“How are you feeling? Is the soreness bearable?”

His question was asked quietly, his voice soft and filled with a warmth barely anyone would receive within these walls, and that knowledge made the butterflies in her stomach whirl like a tornado. He had always been soft to her, ever since their first meeting as children, and he had continued to be like that until they had been separated by fate. Perhaps he still was the boy she once knew—just buried beneath everything he had to be for everyone else.

“Good. Better. It still somewhat aches when I get up too fast, but other than that…” She trailed off when his hand crept closer and touched the spot right next to her navel where she had been run through with a sword during Threshing, a scar now left behind. “But…,” she started again, making him look her directly in the eyes, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “I would feel much better if you’d explain this.” And with that, she pulled one of her arms out of their hold across her chest, holding up the wrist with the shadow still in place.

She watched Xaden swallow, eyes lingering on the black, translucent bracelet before he stared down at her again. A hand rose and softly wrapped itself around her fingers, pulling her hand close until it landed on his chest, right above his steadily beating heart. It pushed all the air out of her lungs; her breath hitched as she witnessed the vulnerability the fearsome wingleader showed her at this particular moment.

Xaden watched her intently as he murmured: “Do you mind it? Do they… disgust you? Bother you?” Without having to think about it, Aurelia slowly shook her head, never leaving him out of sight. “Why would you think that? I think they’re beautiful. Immaculate. Watching you wield them is like watching art,” she confessed, still slightly breathless, eyes wide with curiosity and… doubt. Did she never show him what she thought about him, about his talents and skills? Perhaps it had been drowned out by everything happening around them, and a pang of guilt settled in her chest. “Art, hm?” Blinking, Aurelia watched his smile grow, and the guilt lessened for now, making her slap his broad shoulder playfully. “Don’t tease me about my choice of words.”

The Riorson chuckled quietly before his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his high-towering form. “So, you want an explanation?” His voice had turned into a raspy whisper, and all Aurelia could do was to nod, eyes enthralled by his gaze, her heart beating against her ribcage, trying to escape. “I wanted to make sure you’re all right, Rea, day and night, when I’m here and when I’m not. I wanted to feel close to you at all times, reminding myself every hour of the day that you’re still here, with me.” The fingers pressed against his chest gripped onto his uniform, burying themselves into the midnight black fabric, holding herself up at his steady confession. “Threshing made me realize something I have forgotten for a while: I cannot lose you. I cannot live without you, Aurelia Melgren. If you wouldn’t have made it, it’s safe to say I would have succumbed alongside you. You…” He took a steadying breath with closed eyes before he bent at his waist, coming closer and closer until their foreheads were gently pressed to one another, onyx black crashed against periwinkle blue.

“You are the keeper of all that I feel, of all that I am. One word and I will never speak of it again. One word and I will lock everything away, remaining your friend as I have always been. But…” And with that, he pulled her even closer. “But if your feelings have changed over the years and I was too stupid or blind to see it… Please, tell me and put me out of this… this… misery.” His voice broke at the last word, and it almost hurt her physically to hear his suffering she never knew about.

When has everything between them changed? Aurelia knew when it had changed for her—years ago during a sparring session with him and Garrick back in Aretia when no one had thought about needing to separate. Yes, her father never liked her association with the Riorson’s, but her mother had been from Tyrrendor and called Fen Riorson one of her oldest friends. And on that day, when Xaden had beamed at her proudly for shooting her first arrow successfully, she had known and protected that little secret of hers until… today.

Softly, almost lovingly, Aurelia let the tip of her nose rub against his, staring into his deep eyes and seeing all the emotions she had always hoped to witness on his face, swimming there, freely visible. “Perhaps stupid, perhaps blind, perhaps a bit of both,” the Melgren chuckled, making him roll his eyes at her but turning serious for this particular moment. “You were never just a friend to me, Xaden. You were never just my most trusted companion and confidant—there was always something different between us. I felt… safe with you, protected even. I could be who I was, not the one others desperately wanted me to be. I was… free. You gave me freedom.”

And freedom was the one thing Aurelia had longed for her entire life.

Xaden stared at her unmoving; he almost didn’t dare to breathe when one of her hands cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“I have always loved you, Xaden Riorson, and I will always love you until my last dying breath as a dragon rider. If you’ll have me…—”

She couldn’t ask the question, not with his lips crashing against hers without restraint, without fear. He was as wild in his claim as he was in his fight, making her his then and there, incinerating every trace of every other man she had allowed to touch her in her life. He unraveled her in a dark corner and put her back together, infusing her with love, passion, and freedom with every move of his lips, with ever raspy sound escaping his throat when her fingers tangled themselves in his dark strands, tucking him closer and closer, until they where almost one.

With a gasp for air, Xaden parted with a heavy breath, chest heaving and heart galloping under the palm of her hand. “If I could, I would make you a Riorson on the spot,” he mumbled, lips pressing kisses to her cheeks and her swollen lips with utmost tenderness. “Slow your dragons, love,” Aurelia’s chuckled words followed. “Let us survive this death sentence of a War College first before we enter a far less superior bond they will most definitely mock.” The man started to grin at her words, pulling her close into his chest. “Did you already get that lecture, hm?” Nodding, she gently pushed back his hair, trying to make it presentable again. “Oh, I have. And I imagine there will be more coming sooner rather than later now that we…” She didn’t dare say the words, but Xaden wasn’t as hesitant—not in the slightest.

“Now that we are in a relationship, mo chroi? You can say it—the title won’t bite you.” Shoving him away, Aurelia showed him her tongue, but letting him take her hand in his, allowing him to hold onto it. “Whatever. Those dragons are menaces, and I’m afraid he will take over the fatherly talk in lack of a present father to do that. And I’m not sure what alternative I would prefer.” As if Tairn had only waited to share his input, his voice echoed through her mind. “I do not know what you dare to imply there, Stormy One, but mind you, I would only propose exceptional measures in order not to procreate ahead of your time. We have goals to accomplish, rider, battles to win, wars to end. No time for… frolicking with your shadow wielder.”

She couldn’t hold back the laugh at the growled words and let go of Xaden’s hand in order to wrap her arm around his waist, claiming her spot at his side, his arm instinctively snaking around her shoulders. “Tairn warned me not to frolic with you, shadow wielder,” she explained at his cocked eyebrow and smiled with closed eyes as he bent down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I will keep that in mind, but don’t you think I won’t put my hands on you, Stormy One.”

Walking beside him felt good. Freeing. Empowering. It got into her head, she thought, but it did not matter. She had rarely felt this wonderful.

“Has Sgaeyl spilled Tairn’s secret?” Xaden chuckled humorously as they walked the empty hallways toward Battle Brief. “She did—unintentionally, I think. But it is fitting. You are a tornado, a force of nature to be reckoned with. And with that dragon at your side now? With me? We will be unstoppable, love.” Teasingly, Rea nudged his hip with hers as they stopped in front of the massive double doors leading into the largest classroom Basgiath offered. “Do not over-exaggerate, Xaden darling. You sound like you have an appetite for conquering the world,” she whispered as he bent down again, lips ghosting over hers. “Oh, I have an appetite for many things, mo chroi. And I’ll show you each and every single one of them.”

Kissing Xaden, Aurelia silenced him with flushing cheeks before opening the door to slip inside the now-settling-down cadets. She intended to make her way down toward her usual seat next to her best friend, Merope. Xaden had different plans, though.

His hand snatched hers, and without uttering another word, the tall man tugged her after him, making his row scoot up a seat to create room for her next to Garrick, who watched the interaction with gleaming interest. His cheeky grin was oh so prominent, Aurelia hit his cheek with the flat side of her quill, shaking her head slowly, almost threateningly. “Don’t you dare utter a single word,” she whisper-hissed at him, cocking an eyebrow when he dared to open his mouth, watching him reconsider his next move. “I just wanted to say I told you so, but whatever.” Grinning triumphantly, Garrick winked at her, chuckling when her hand hit him multiple times on his shoulder. “You are unbelievable,” was all she huffed in slight annoyance, forcing herself to look in front, trying to ignore all the stares and the whispers at her new spot. They seemed to increase in volume when everyone bore witness to Xaden Riorson moving his hand in her direction, grabbing her thigh under the small table each seat had sat in front of it, squeezing it tenderly, and leaning in her direction.

“Forget about them, all of them. It doesn’t matter what they think, okay?” He knew her too well, but in their case, she couldn’t give a fuck. Leaning closer herself, Aurelia pressed a lingering kiss to his jawline—it was the only part of his handsome face she could reach without making a fool out of herself—and smiled with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “You won’t get rid of me that easy, Riorson,” the Melgren promised, making him hum in contentment, his hand settling heavily on her thigh—and it would stay there for the remainder of this class and every other they shared.

“I intend to keep you, Melgren. I intend to keep you for a very long time.”

Thank you all for reading! Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog. Tell me your thoughts about this fic and/or ideas for potential new fanfictions ♡

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 36. The Only Mare In His Stable

Summary: With War Games and her first year over, Dahlia finally has the time to seek out Garrick. But maybe he just beats her to it.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links

Of course Xaden had to pick the one spot to defend that had the longest flight there and back. My body was screaming at me to rest. We’d barely gotten time to sleep and fully rest. But it had been worth it. We’d successfully defended our outpost and taken over others in the area. I swear to gods we better have won this. Otherwise Xaden might need to hide for the next few days.

”It will get easier little flower.” Proth drawls in my head. But I can tell he’s just as exhausted as me through the bond.

”I know. And please don’t call me that anymore.” I tell him, my mind going back to when Garrick had used the name as he’d pulled a the first of many orgasms from me that night.

Proth chuckles in my head. “I have always called you that. The large one can find another name, or you can learn to separate the two.”

I can’t help but laugh at his nickname for Garrick. “You say that like it’s going to happen again.”

”I have spent the last five days listening to you think about him like a lovesick puppy even when you think you aren’t thinking about him.” He snaps at me. “So please do us both a favour and sort out whatever this is when we get back.”

Noted. And I’m sure my friends would be bugging me for updates as soon as I’d had time to shower and get back to normal. Damn Bodhi and his inability to keep his mouth shut. I sag with relief as the flight field comes into sight, only a few squads ahead of us as they make their way down to the Rotunda. I can’t see it from here, but I know it will be filled with the rest of the Quadrant waiting for the last of us to return so they can reveal the winner of War Games.

My feet barely touch the ground before Proth takes off, clearly wanting to rest after the long flight. We all fall into a comfortable silence as we follow Xaden through the field and down the stairs. All of us too exhausted to talk amongst each other. As we walk into the Rotunda I can’t help but scan the squads to find him. And due to his height he’s easy to spy down the back of tail section, his body sagging in relief as he sees me alive. I’d like to say unharmed, but I now sport a new scar on my right jaw that extends onto my neck from a well thrown dagger from second wing. And from what I can see he’s unharmed, just exhausted like the rest of us. His squad had been on the opposite end of our area, meaning we hadn’t crossed paths at all in the five days.

As soon as we take our spot Panchek steps forward. We must have been the last squad back. “Congratulations on surviving War Games. Just a small taste of what you will all do one day when you graduate. Tomorrow once all Squads have been accounted for, we will conduct the death roll and graduation. But for now, we must declare a winner.”

The quadrant buzzes with excitement, everyone mustering whatever energy they can. But as I scan the other squads I note a good number of them clearly showered and rested. Lucky bastards.

Markham walks forward, handing a scroll to Panchek who unrolls it, keeping his face void of any emotion as he reads it. His eyes raise to us, scanning the wings in front of him. Everyone going silent as they anxiously await the results.

”The winner of this years War Games after a very impressive battle this year, is Fourth Wing!” He calls out before the Quadrant is deafened by the cheers of our wing.

I’m immediately pulled into the arms of my Squad, Xaden begrudgingly joining us as Bodhi pulls him in. All of a sudden relaxing and a shower is the last thing on my mind, on any of our minds. We’d fucking won War Games. Guess I wouldn’t need to murder Xaden for picking the outpost that he did. Slowly we break apart, my other squad members moving away to congratulate the rest of our wing.

I can’t help but look over at Dain who looks thoroughly annoyed his wing hadn’t won. I’m sure Panchek had read out the placements of the other Wings, but I’d been too lost in the cheers of my Wing to hear it. Dain furrows his brow at me. No, not me. Something behind me. His eyes looking at something above me. I turn to see Garrick pushing his way over to me. My heart starts beating loudly in my chest as he gets closer.

I open my mouth to say something, but he rushes forward, grasping my face in his hands as he crushes his lips to mine. All I can register is the warmth of his hands, the firm pressure of his lips, and the way my pulse thrums like a drum in my ears. My hands instinctively rise, clutching at his flight jacket, half for balance, half in disbelief.

The cheers of my Wing morph into hoots and hollers, but they feel distant, like they belong to a world I’m no longer part of. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and his breath comes in shallow bursts. His eyes, bright and intense, search mine, as though he’s trying to find words but can’t quite manage them. The silence between us feels louder than the noise around us.

“You—” I start, but my voice catches, barely above a whisper. “What was that?”

Garrick smirks down at me. “Making what I want clear. This,” He says as he gestures between us, “Is not just sex. Not anymore. You made it clear what you wanted from me to even consider this being a thing. And I did it.” I swear I note a slight shake in his hand, but it’s hard to tell with how hard we’re both breathing.

”You barely know me.” I say as I look down at where my hands still grip his jacket.

”You know that isn’t true. We might have spent most of the year despising each other, but we both know more about each other than we care to admit.” Garrick puts a finger under my chin, guiding my eyes back to him. “So, what do you say to being the only mare in my stable?”

My heart pounds in my chest, drowning out everyone around us as I look up at Garrick. And after a few seconds where I swear Garrick looks scared, I nod up at him. And for the first time since I was a kid, I beam up at Garrick, unable to hold back the smile at the way he’s asked me. But with the amount of times I’d thrown that analogy at him, it was fitting.

”Imogen! I want my ten gold pieces!” Bodhi yells out, startling us both as he pushes past Austin and Liz, walking towards Imogen who shakes her head and tries to walk away from him.

”Did they-”

”Yeah, they placed a bet on us.” Garrick confirms with a shake of his head.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore @fenixyrie @lagrandeourse @hellodarling1357 @iambored24601  @thegiftofacreativemind @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mysticalfuncollectorus

[malrieldremm]

friends

Pairing: Ridoc Gamlyn X reader

TW: pure smut, smut with feelings.

World Count: 2740

A/N: first smut ever lol sorry if this is shitty. Haven’t read onyx storm yet but I’m FERAL for this man!!

-

you love all your friends…but Ridoc was special to say the least.

With him, it was different.

The way his eyes would always find yours in a room full of person, the way his touch, no matter how cold, always made you heart melt.

You just got each other.

You loved how he was never serious.

Which might be the reason you were laughing your butt off when he suggested that you two use each other to let off steam when you can’t sneak off to find anyone.

Of course you had no idea of the feelings he had for you, and there was no way Ridoc was going to admit them. You layed back on your back into the mattress trying to breathe through your sore muscles from laughing. He rolled his eyes and leaned over, holding himself up on his elbow.

“I’m serious. I think it’d be a good idea.” He said quietly this time. Which was…odd for him.

Very odd.

You propped yourself up as the look on your fefe changed completely, now dead serious.

Ridoc felt his heart skip a beat under the serious look on your face. He took a deep breath and nodded. Yes. Really. He could do this. It was just physical. A way to blow off steam. Right. He gently placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb trailing along your cheek before he spoke. His cold hands sent shiver down your spine, as you looked up at him, unsure if the situation.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“I-“ you stopped for a second.

The feeelings you had for him were undeniable.. perhaps, you could just take pleasure out of this, leaving the heart.. out.

You didn’t really know if tuoi could do it, considering the speed at which your heart was beating.

You looked at his face intently, trying to memorize everything you could.

“well.. How good of an idea would it be?”

Ridoc couldn’t help but to smile at the smirk on your face. He couldn’t read you at that moment. Did you want this? Did he want this? He was worried about being too rough with you- but maybe he was overthinking it.

His hand came up to rest on your hip, gently tugging you, gesturing for you to lay down. Ridoc moved as well, getting on all fours above you.

“Pretty damn good I’d say.”

“Well, how about you show me how much?” You said, a small smile forming on your face.

The smirk grew on his face as his eyes roamed up and down your body. The way you were looking at him- Ridoc felt almost weak. Gods, he wanted you so badly, he had wanted you for so long, but he was scared to push too far. He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head to the side as he moved to straddle you. His head leaned down to your ear as he spoke.

“As you wish. Princess.” His breath was hot your my skin, as he leaned in to kiss you.

He tried to focus on keeping this physical, but when you moved your hands to his hair, his brain stopped working.

He sighed into your kiss and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing you back with the same intensity. Ridoc pulled away for a moment, panting gently before he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, a shaky exhale leaving his lips.

“…Gods.. you’re beautiful” he said against your lips.

You froze for a second, heart thundering in your chest. The words hit you harder than his touch ever could. It wasn’t like Ridoc to be this raw, this unguarded. It scared you, thrilled you, confused you all at once.

Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tightened just slightly as you tried to process the shift between playful and… something deeper. Something you both might not come back from.

“Ridoc…” you whispered, voice soft and unsure.

He didn’t move immediately, his breath still fanning across your skin as if he couldn’t bear to part from you yet. When he did finally lift his head, his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found. Instead, those eyes—those eyes that always found you, even when no one else could—were searching yours, looking for something he wasn’t sure he could ask for.

“I mean it,” he said, voice lower, rougher. “You’re—more than you know.”

Your chest ached at the admission, and every instinct screamed at you to pull him closer and never let go. But there was still the unspoken rule, the idea that this was supposed to be casual. A game. And yet, as you stared into Ridoc’s eyes, you knew neither of you were playing anymore.

“Ridoc,” you tried again, swallowing the lump in your throat, “are you sure you can just… keep this simple?”

He let out a humorless chuckle, thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. “Doesn’t feel simple right now.”

You smiled faintly at that, feeling your walls crumble with every second he held you like this. “No,” you admitted, voice barely audible, “it doesn’t.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The weight of unspoken feelings wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Ridoc sighed and leaned down again, resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, almost pleading.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Instead, you whispered back, “Don’t you dare.”

His lips were on yours again in a heartbeat, but this time, it wasn’t rushed or heated. It was soft. Reverent. The kiss of someone who cared deeply but didn’t quite know how to say it. And in that moment, with his hands holding your face like you were fragile and precious, you realized the truth—you didn’t want simple. Not with him. Never with him.

Ridoc pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “No turning back, you know.”

Your heart raced as you whispered, “Good.”

His grin returned, smaller, but somehow more genuine. And when he kissed you again, it wasn’t about blowing off steam anymore. It was about finally surrendering to something you both had been too afraid to admit.

Ridoc’s gaze darkened the second you gave him that answer. The playful glint you were used to was gone, replaced with something far more intense, something hungry. His grip on your waist tightened, and without warning, he pressed you deeper into the mattress, his body pinning you there.

“Good,” he murmured, voice low and dripping with heat. “Because I’m done pretending.”

Before you could even catch your breath, his lips were on yours again—rougher this time, demanding. The kiss was nothing like the ones before. His teeth caught your lower lip as he pulled slightly, making you gasp beneath him, and that sound only seemed to set him off further.

Ridoc wasted no time, one hand sliding under your shirt, fingertips icy against your heated skin as they traced up your ribs. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he growled into your mouth, before trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

Your head fell back as his teeth grazed your pulse point, and he smirked against your skin. “Sensitive,” he teased, his breath hot and ragged.

You barely managed to respond, too focused on how his cold fingers found the edge of your waistband, playing with it, testing the boundary. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning into you.

“Last chance,” he whispered, voice thick with restraint. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

But instead of answering with words, you grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back down, kissing him harder this time, pouring every bit of pent-up tension into it.

Ridoc groaned into your mouth, the sound deep and guttural as he pressed his hips into yours, leaving no room for guessing just how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, losing the last bit of control he’d been clinging to.

His hand slipped lower, tugging at your waistband with more purpose now, while the other slid into your hair, pulling just enough to make you arch into him. He smirked, satisfied, watching how you responded to every little touch like he was learning you in real-time.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he breathed.

“And you’re still talking too much,” you shot back with a smirk of your own.

Ridoc’s eyes flashed with heat. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

And then he kissed you like he meant every word—like you were his, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

Ridoc’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought, his eyes drinking you in like he’d been starving for this. The way his gaze raked over your exposed skin made you feel like you were on fire, and yet, his cold hands left a trail of goosebumps as they roamed your body.

“You’re dangerous,” he growled, voice deep and rough, leaning down to drag his teeth along your collarbone. His tongue followed, soothing the sting, only to bite down again, harder this time, marking you.

Your breath caught as he pushed your hips deeper into the bed, grinding against you with a delicious, deliberate pressure that left you dizzy. You could feel how badly he wanted you, how much restraint it was taking for him to not tear the rest of your clothes off right then and there.

Ridoc pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, smirking when he saw the flushed, needy look on your face. “You’re already so worked up,” he teased, voice dripping with dark amusement. “And I’ve barely touched you.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but your words died in your throat when his fingers slipped past the band of your pants, teasing the edge of your underwear. He moved achingly slow, tracing circles on your inner thigh, watching your every reaction like it was his personal obsession.

“You want more?” His voice was nothing but a sinful whisper in your ear as he nipped at your earlobe.

“Gods, Ridoc,” you breathed out, nails digging into his back. “Yes.”

That was all he needed.

With a low growl, he yanked your pants and underwear down in one motion, discarding them onto the floor. His hands returned to your thighs, spreading them wide as he settled between them, eyes dark and wild.

“Look at you,” he murmured, running a hand slowly up your leg before resting it possessively on your hip. “So perfect.”

Without breaking eye contact, he dipped his head lower, lips ghosting over your inner thigh before finally pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. Each one dragged a shiver from you, but it was the anticipation—the way he hovered just shy of where you needed him most—that had your head spinning.

Ridoc smirked against your skin. “Tell me how bad you want me,” he whispered, voice husky.

When you whimpered, grinding your hips closer to his mouth, he chuckled darkly. “No, no. I want to hear you say it.”

You clenched your jaw, but the ache inside you was unbearable now. “I want you,” you hissed. “I need you.”

His satisfied grin was the last thing you saw before he finally closed the distance, mouth claiming you with a hunger that made you cry out, arching off the mattress. His tongue moved with calculated precision, slow but devastating, while his fingers gripped your thighs to keep you exactly where he wanted you—at his mercy.

Every moan and gasp only seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he groaned against you, clearly just as affected as you were.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were slick, his eyes dark and full of mischief as he crawled back up your body, settling between your legs.

“You taste like sin,” he murmured, voice ragged. “And I’m not nearly done with you.”

Ridoc barely gave you time to catch your breath before his mouth was on yours again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss was filthy, heated, and left you trembling beneath him as his hand slid back down, fingers toying with how soaked you’d become.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, voice gravelly, almost dangerous. He tugged at his own shirt, ripping it over his head before tossing it aside. The sight of him above you—muscles tense, jaw clenched, eyes devouring every inch of you—only made the ache inside worse.

His cold skin pressed against your warmth as he settled between your legs again, grinding into you without any mercy this time. The friction made you gasp, and Ridoc drank it in like it was his lifeline.

“Tell me how long you’ve been thinking about this,” he demanded as he rocked his hips, voice sharp but laced with that teasing tone only he could pull off. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

Your mind spun under the weight of him, but still, you managed to smirk. “Since the first time you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

Ridoc’s breath hitched, and something inside him snapped. His hand shot to your throat—not with enough pressure to hurt, but enough to make you gasp softly as his thumb brushed along your jawline. His other hand slid between your bodies, lining himself up against you.

“You have no idea what you just did to me,” he snarled.

And then, without hesitation, he pushed inside you—deep, slow, filling you completely as your back arched and a moan ripped from your throat. The stretch, the intensity of it, stole the air from your lungs, but Ridoc didn’t give you a moment to recover. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“That’s it,” he whispered darkly. “Feel every inch of me.”

The pace he set was brutal, hips snapping against yours, the sounds of skin meeting skin filling the room as you clung to him. His grip on your throat loosened, hand sliding down to your chest as his teeth found the base of your neck again, biting hard enough to leave another mark.

“Look at you,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect like this, under me.”

You could barely form words, too lost in how deep he was, how rough yet precise every thrust felt. His cold fingers pinched at your skin, teasing, claiming every part of you as his mouth moved lower, tongue and teeth dragging across your chest.

Ridoc’s control was fraying; you could feel it in how erratic his movements became, how ragged his breathing was as he whispered curses against your skin.

“Not gonna last if you keep tightening around me like that,” he growled, pulling back to see your face—flushed, wrecked, desperate for more.

His thumb brushed your lower lip. “You close, princess?”

All you could do was nod, whimpering as you rolled your hips up to meet him, needing more, faster, harder.

“Good,” he hissed, slamming into you with everything he had now. “Because you’re gonna come with me.”

Your nails raked down his back as you felt your body give out beneath him, the wave crashing over you so intensely it left you shaking. Ridoc’s name tore from your lips, and that was all it took—he followed with a deep groan, burying himself inside you as he spilled everything he’d been holding back.

For a few moments, all either of you could do was pant, bodies tangled together, sweat-slick and spent. Ridoc’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm as his fingers absentmindedly traced your sides.

“Yeah,” he finally murmured, voice hoarse. “Definitely not just blowing off steam.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to steady your heartbeat. “No kidding.”

His smirk returned, lazy and satisfied. “Round two later?”

You grinned, pulling him down for another kiss. “Absolutely.”

[fourth-wing-stories]

Mirrorball - Part 2

Warnings: none

Pairing: Ridoc x OC

Words: 923

Summary: After enjoying the company of one another on top of the tower, Ridoc can't wait to hang out with Iris again when he gets the chance. The usual quick witted, talkative man finds he dosen´t feel the need to always perform around her, he can just be him.

Masterlist

A/N: I just love a slow burn guys, I promise it´s gonna get better. Let me know if you want me to make the parts longer xoxo

Part 1 || Part 3

I also make ship imagines, check bio.

Tags: @sweetsugarcoffee

Requests are OPEN, check bio

The next time Iris and Ridoc crossed paths, it was in one of the long hallways of Basgiath. Ridoc spotted Iris first, catching up to her as she walked, a stack of books tucked under her arm. “You always this studious?” he teased lightly, falling into step beside her. The air felt different between them, like something had shifted since their meeting on the tower.

Iris glanced at him with a smirk. “I like to keep my priorities straight. Besides, someone has to study while you’re off charming everyone in sight.”

Ridoc laughed, shaking his head. “You wound me, Draven.”

They walked in companionable silence for a while, their footsteps echoing in the nearly empty hallway. Somehow, without either of them deciding on it, they started heading toward the library together.

As they entered the quiet space, the scent of old parchment and ink filled the air. They found a table in the corner, far from the other students, and without a word, they began to study.

After settling into the quiet of the library, Ridoc leaned back in his chair, glancing sideways at Iris as she immersed herself in her studies. He tapped his pencil lightly on the table, not to annoy her this time, but out of curiosity. There was something about the silence between them that made him want to know more, to break through the small walls she still kept up.

"You ever use your wind magic for more than just to mess with people?" Ridoc asked suddenly, his voice low so as not to disturb the quiet of the library.

Iris looked up from her book, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Sometimes. It’s good practice."

"Fair" Ridoc chuckled before continuing. "But seriously, I’ve seen what you can do. You’re stronger than you let on."

For a moment, Iris considered his words, her light blue eyes studying him. There weren’t many people who noticed how much she held back. Most thought her playful breezes were the full extent of her abilities. “The wind's... tricky," she said finally. "It's more than just making breezes. It can be wild, unpredictable. Sometimes it’s hard to control it the way I want.”

Ridoc nodded, leaning forward with more interest now. “I know what you mean. Ice is... relentless. It doesn’t bend or shift like wind. It’s cold, unyielding. But that makes it hard to wield with precision, you know? Like, once I unleash it, there’s no pulling it back.”

Iris tilted her head, intrigued. "What the most recent use of your power that you've found?”

Ridoc grinned, “I can freeze moisture in the air, create ice walls, blasts... but it takes a lot out of me if I push too far. I’ve shattered a few things by accident.” He looked up, there was a hint of pride in his eyes, then worry. “But don’t tell anyone that.” he added.

Iris smirked, but there was understanding in her gaze. "Don´t worry, your secrets safe with me." She pause before continuing. “It’s not easy, is it? Everyone thinks we’re in complete control of our signets, but it’s a balancing act.”

Ridoc gave her a half-smile. “Exactly. People see us having fun with it and they think we’ve got it all figured out. But they don’t know how much effort goes into making it seem effortless.”

There was a pause as they both sat with that thought, the weight of their shared experiences settling between them.

“Is it ever scary for you?” Iris asked quietly, her voice softer now. “Like, when you’re training?”

Ridoc’s smile faded slightly, and he hesitated before answering. “Yeah. Sometimes it is. One wrong move and I could hurt someone. Or myself.”

Iris nodded slowly. “yeah.. "

The two of them exchanged a quiet look, a shared understanding that went deeper than their usual playful banter. Ridoc placed his hand over hers, squeezed it slightly and gave her a gentle smile. They might have different signets, different ways of controlling their power, but underneath it all, they were more alike than either had realized.

As the night grew later, their conversation drifted to other things—training, classes, and life at Basgiath. They learned more about each other in that one evening than they had in all the time before, and by the time they left the library, it felt like they had always known each other.

[sapchat]

i want to read the most guy wrenching heart shattering liam mairi fanfiction because my baby deserved BETTER and LOVE LIKE NO OTHER (i would also fuck the daylights out of ridoc because i imagined him as stiles stilisnki era dylan obrien)

Okay well you’ve just made me realize why part of me likes Ridoc. Cuz it reminds me of Stiles fucking Stilinski.

ALSO I would love nothing more than to read the most gut punching, heart wrenching, heart shattering, lips of an angel type shit, story about Liam.

Like imagine a story where readers signet is being able to communicate with past souls or some shit, like all they need is an object which is difficult since their belongings get burned. But we have his letters to Sloan, and the dragons he carved so we can still communicate and “summon” him.

[marshmellowrio]

Fanfic Masterlist

From here out, you'll be able to reach all of the chapters from Flight of the Night and Semblance of Control.

ACOTAR

Flight of the Night

Last update: 04/05/2024

Total chapters: 9

FOURTH WING

Semblance of Control

Last update: 05/25/2024

Total chapters: 3

[we-were-beautiful]

Guys, I forgot to post this up here last night once I finished up the edits that needed to be made. But I did a thing. This is the first long fanfiction I have decided to write since I abandoned my first fanfic that was about 90k words. This ended up being 9k words after editing. And I cut about a thousand words before my beta reader went over it.

If you like Fourth Wing you might like this. It is a Xaden Riorson X Melgren!OC fic in which Autumn our leading lady makes her way through all the shenanigans at Basgiath. I really suck at writing summaries; I know I need to work on that.

Also a huge thank you to my lovely Beta for this story @danikasthings. They are a god send and extremely wonderful to work with.

The next little project I am working on is Part 5 of The Fox and The Hounds. Which I am currently trying to figure out how to connect the scene I have currently worked out. I’m shooting to have that one finished up by Sunday and off to the Beta Reader by Monday but I make no promises.

[angstywaifu]

Another Sunday another fic writing day. This time I'm getting through your requests and some ideas you guys have given me from some thoughts you've sent me on a certain boy. Thought this might be fun if you guys want to ask questions about Dahlia or even Ophelia! The inbox is open and ready 🖤

Fandom OC Ask Meme

⟢⋱⟡☾ a collection of asks for OCs belonging to specific fandoms

How does (canon character) feel about your OC?

How does your OC feel about (canon character)?

Has your OC ever made (canon character) laugh? / What about cry?

Do your OC and (canon character) ever cross paths?

Which canon character annoys your OC?

What canon character gets annoyed by your OC?

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

Which canon character is pissed off by the general presence of OC? (we all have those people)

Does your OC have a crush on anyone?

Who would probably have a crush on your OC?

Who would your OC most likely to get a puppy-crush on? (but it can’t be the cc they’re actually shipped with!)

Who would your OC say is their best friend?

Who would call your OC their best friend?

Who has brought your OC to tears before?

Who has your OC made cry?

Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

Is there someone your OC liked at first, but then grew to dislike?

Who does your OC hate?

Who does your OC love? (platonic)

Who does your OC love? (familial)

Does your OC love anyone? (romantic)

Has your OC ever had to let a canon character down easy?

Has your OC ever been rejected by a canon character?

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

What is your OC’s ‘‘darkness moment’’ in the plot?

What is your OC’s redemption moment?

Is there a canon character that your OC needs to ask forgiveness towards?

Is there a canon character your OC needs to forgive?

Is there anyone who your OC would die for?

Is there a canon character who would die for your OC?

[quietstormxr]

Favorite

Summary: Xaden never knew he had a favorite.

A/N: FW spoilers, Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Just for fun, because it came to me. Enjoy!

He never realized how much he looked forward to your presence on the day to day. The quick small smile that you would give him in the morning. The way your laugh seemed to reverberate through the halls warming him from the inside out. So many little things and moments that he had taken for granted, hell he hadn’t even noticed them before. 

Not until the morning that you didn’t show up for breakfast. He didn’t even realize he was searching for you until Garrick elbowed him in the side.

“Why the hell do you keep looking at the doors like they’ve personally offended you?” Garrick teases earning a glare from Xaden. 

“I’m not. Just looking around.” He mumbles back turning his head away from the doors to the dining hall.

‘Lying this early in the morning is a new one, even for you.’ Sgaeyl can’t help but slither into the conversation earning nothing but an irritated huff from her bonded rider.

Later that day he just couldn’t shake the dread that had settled into him since he hadn’t seen you in any of your classes or battle brief. As your Wingleader, he knew that if something was wrong someone would’ve told him. He always received notes regarding any cadets that were sick or indisposed in his wing. Unfortunately, no note of any kind had been sent his way.

It went on like that for three long days. Mornings with no smile, classes with no laugh, and evenings of scanning the hall for your eyes. 

On the slow trudge back to the dormitories, a movement in the corner of the rotunda caught his eye. Looking over he saw a figure, bloodied from head to toe, eyes almost swollen shut. For a moment he didn’t give it much thought, until he saw the glint of gold around your neck. In that moment, his heart rate spiked as recognition ran through him. You were the only rider that wore a necklace like that, and then he realized there was no mistaking that hair.

Without registering what his feet were doing, he found himself moving towards you at a speed that surprised even himself. In a few quick strides he was standing in front of you as you went to limp a few additional steps forward.

“What happened?” He breathed, unsure of if he should touch you or not.

You shook your head back at Xaden, your already swollen eyes beginning to water with the obvious pain radiating from every inch of your body.

“Can I take you to the healers?” He rushes out, feeling helpless watching you suffering.

You give him a slight nod and before you can bring your head all the way up, Xaden hoists you up and begins to carry you. A sharp hiss finds it way out of your lips as the pressure of your wounds is aggravated by his calloused hands. He looks down at your face and you don’t miss the apology reflected in the golden flecks of his eyes.

Xaden walks swiftly and with purpose striding faster than normal to get you to the healers. Inside though, he is a tumult of emotion between rage and fear. What the hell happened to you? You weren’t a second year so this wasn’t an RSC exercise.

‘Does Cikeniss know what happened?’ He questions Sgaeyl not wanting to wait for you to give him the answer.

‘No, Cikeniss only confirms that she was somehow cut off.’ Sgaeyl relays with a hint of anger coating her reply.

‘Cut off? How could she be cut off from her bond?’ Xaden questions trying to get more information. 

‘It is apparently something new your leadership is trying out. They have yet to give the antidote. Cikeniss confirms she can’t reach her rider.’ Sgaeyl confirms as he feels the anger at the possibility radiating from his sapphire bond.

Snapping out of his conversation with Sgaeyl, he looks down at you and feels his arms tighten involuntarily. You were cut off from your dragon and something could’ve happened. The thought that no one knew where you were and now that your dragon didn’t even have access to you solidifying the fear he’s been feeling. 

In the next few strides, he’s entering the healer’s quadrant. As he walks into the facility, there are people rushing about, but no one has seemed to taken notice of the two of you. He walks further into the room and still no one notices. 

Patience wearing thin, he snaps. “Is someone going to look after her or do I need to bandage her myself?”

Immediately two healers lead the way to a room as you look up to your commanding Wingleader. Gently lowering you onto the bed, his breath catches when even in pain you give him one of your warm smiles. The anxiety over the last few days seeming to lessen slightly, thought looking at your broken and bruised body it lingers.

The healers gather over your frame that is gently laid on the white sheets of the bed. The stark relief between the mix of the blood and grime that is sliding from your skin and leathers to the sheets has Xaden tensing more and more each second. How much had your body been broken and bruised for three whole days? What the reason that it even happened in the first place?

He tries to turn over what could have possibly happened before his thoughts are interrupted by a small hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he is greeted with the serious face of a healer. 

“She will need to be sedated in order for us to work on her fully. You are welcome to stay, but if so, you’ll have to wait in the hall.” The healer relays. 

Xaden can’t imagine possibly leaving you after seeing you so broken and bruised. And that is why he finds himself pacing the hallway of the healer’s quadrant with a dagger absentmindedly flipping over and over in his hand, thoughts still consumed with the possibilities of why this happed. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but the pacing is doing little to calm the raging storm in his thoughts.

‘Can Cikeniss reach her?’ He questions Sgaeyl wanting to at least know that you’re still holding on.

‘No.’ Sgaeyl confirms with no sugar coating her tone.

Just hearing Sgaeyl confirm you are still cut off causes his chest to tighten further. It seems the gods finally are willing to have a little mercy on him as in the next pass of his pacing one of the healers finally comes out of the room. 

“We’ve treated everything we can. Nolon has been in to make sure to help with any major issues and she’s cleared to go back to her room. She’s going to have lingering bruising and soreness, but overall, she should be cleared for getting back to class.” The healer confirms.

As Xaden stands there listening, the last thing he can possibly imagine is letting you go back to classes with how he just saw you. 

“May I go in and be with her now?” Xaden asks hopefully, dreading being told no and to get back to class. 

“Of course. She may still be a little drowsy, but she should be waking up soon.” The healer tells him, gesturing towards the room your in. 

‘Cikeniss confirms their bond has been restored.’ Sgaeyl startles him as he begins to step towards your door. 

‘Did Cikeniss confirm anything else?’ He asks needing to know what exactly happened to you for his own sanity.

‘She did, but you will have to ask if you want that information.’ Xaden can’t help but feel disappointment and agitation that Sgaeyl won’t tell him what you went through.

‘It’s not as easy as just telling you. The reasons for her laying in that bed is not idol gossip that should be spread.’ Sgaeyl responds tersely, almost as if she is upset on your behalf for everything you endured.

Xaden can’t help the furrow overtaking his brow as he enters the room. As he lays eyes on your form, he can’t help but take stock of all the bruises that are littered across your arms, torso, and legs. The small shake of his head is impossible to stop as he realizes there may not be one patch of skin that doesn’t have a lingering purple tint. 

As soon as he reaches the side of the bed, he can see how your breathing is beginning to change indicating that you are waking up. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he finally watches your eyelids begin to flutter. As soon as he sees your eyes open fully, the breath fully releases from his lungs as he brings his hand to hold yours. The constriction that settled around his entire chest completely breaks when you give him a small smile, disarming him completely in a way he never realized before.

“If anyone saw, they might think you have a favorite dear Wingleader.” His hand tightens on your own at hearing you speak after four days of not seeing you, thought he can’t stop the glare he gives you at your comment. 

“Well, they can fuck right off.” He responds back immediately in a tone harder than he meant to give you.  “Besides, they wouldn’t be wrong, I do play favorites.”

He watches as your eyes flash going slightly wider than before, showing the way the words register in your mind. The smile that breaks onto his face at your reaction is one he knows he hasn’t had in a while, a happy, yet teasing lilt to his lips. 

“What exactly is that supposed to imply?” You ask him as he hears your breath seem to catch in your throat. Slowly Xaden brings himself to stand flush next to the bed you’re still laying in. 

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying.” Ever the confident man, Xaden can’t help but tease you a little at your question. He watches as the annoyed look is now firmly planted on your face due to his ever-elusive responses.

“Please enlighten me, dear Wingleader Riorson. Besides, how am I going to compete with your bonded first year who has made her obvious attractions for you widely known.” Now it’s Xaden’s turn for shock to plaster across his face, its almost as if he’d forgotten how you could give as good as he could.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says hoping that he can escape the daunting topic that is Violet Sorrengail.

The knowing look that you give him does the exact opposite than reassure him. Xaden knew he couldn’t deny Violet’s penchant for looking at him as if he was the hottest man alive. Hell, he knew he even had stoked her attraction on several occasions, making a saddle, sparring with her constantly, and crafting daggers for her. The worst mistake of all was kissing her and thinking of it he can’t help but shake his head with regret.

For the first time, he’s unsure how to proceed. Four days ago, he didn’t even realize he had feelings for you and now he’s trying to convince you. The bravado he had just moments ago seemed to have completely vanished, just like shadows in the noon day sun.  

“Her infatuation is just that. Infatuation.” Xaden says firmly, although he’s unsure if he can even convince himself of that.

The raise of your brow shows him that you know that he’s trying to convince the both of you. 

“Regardless.” Xaden can’t help saying with finality. “That may be her feelings, and I’m sorry if I hurt her, but I don’t return the sentiment.”

Xaden can feel his heart picking up speed in his chest as he waits for you to say something in return. 

Anything.

The moments seem to tick by; a never-ending echo of the clock in the background the only thing that dares to break the silence. Xaden watches as your eyes seem to bore through him as if seeing through every mask he’s ever worn, every secret he’s ever told.

Without saying anything he watches as you rise on your elbows and move to swing your feet to the side of the bed. Your continued silence doing nothing to help the gnawing at his gut that you’re lost to him before he ever even had a chance with you.

Xaden immediately is at your side grasping your waist after you let out a hiss at trying to stand up from the bed.

“Thank you.” You whisper through clenched teeth. Xaden knows that he shouldn’t be waiting on your response, but it feels to him as if everything is still suspended in mid-air waiting for your confirmation or denial. 

As Xaden feels himself beginning to brood, trying to keep the despair that you don’t care for him, he completely misses the way that you begin to turn yourself in his arms.

It isn’t until both of your arms snake around his waist and you bury your head in the crook of his neck that he realizes he may be spiraling for no reason.

‘Do calm down your emotions, your thoughts are more erratic than when we are in battle.’ Sgaeyl claps at him breaking his spiraling thoughts completely.

“If you’re going to play favorites, I’m going to need you to make your claim clear.” Xaden looks down at you as you bring your face up to look him in the eyes.

Xaden brings his hand up to your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your head so he can see the gleam in your beautiful eyes.

“Oh Love, don’t you worry about that. I intend to make sure that everyone in the quadrant knows you’re my favorite.” Xaden teases while bringing his nose to rest on yours, all the while memorizing every fleck in your eyes. 

The answering smirk on your lips is all the confirmation he needs before he brushes his lips against yours, tentatively at first. The way you immediately respond and arch into his touch makes his eyes flash and a groan leave his lips. Xaden can’t believe the way your kiss is searing into his skin, the feeling of you drowning him like no one ever had before.

He immediately deepens the kiss grabbing you firmly at the nape of your neck drawing your face even closer. Your answering moan causing his blood to heat and desire to begin coiling around his entire frame. Breaking the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours trying to calm his breathing. 

“Well then.” You say to him, your breathing still a little rapid. “I guess it’s time for you to show everyone who your real favorite is.”

Xaden gives you a knowing smile before grasping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back to the riders quadrant. There is no doubt in his mind that you are just like chocolate cake – one of his favorite things he’ll never tire of.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

[theseinfernalangels]

Princess - Garrick Tavis

Synopsis: Sometimes, nicknames can be a little too accurate. 

A/N: FINALLY something for our man Garrick. This ties into my little OC universe, so give this a read first. I adore Garrick and Cosette’s dynamic, so I’ll definitely write some more for them soon. Happy reading!

It, you decided, was much too bright in the sparring gym. The light beats against your eyes in a way that feels entirely too suffocating, starting from the back of your neck into the expanse of your scalp.

You’re concussed, most likely. You’d taken quite the beating on the mat, although you’d won in the end by virtue of threatening to — and almost actually — slitting another cadet’s throat. It was worth it in the end, but the pounding in the back of your brain made you really start to question if you should have just yielded for the sake of saving yourself.

You slump further into the corner of the gym, where the light just barely reached into the little crevice you’ve inserted yourself into. You felt dizzy and unfocused before, just barely managing to drag your way behind the other cadets to give yourself a moment to rest.

Stupid, you scold yourself. You look like a weak fool. 

It’s hard to watch the rest of the matches when you can barely look up without feeling nauseous. It’s loud, too; the whoops and cries of your classmates combined with the thuds and grunts of people hitting the ground was making you feel worse. You almost wish your father had dumped you with the Scribes instead. It would be boring, sure, but at least it would have been quiet.

You’re just about to drag yourself out of the gym to try and soothe your mind when the aching light is obstructed from your view, dimming the space around you just enough so that the pain isn’t searing. What the hell?

You squint. That’s most definitely a person standing with their back to you; their definition is broad and tall, but it’s a little hard to tell who’s saving you from a wicked migraine until something else catches your eye:

Cloudy, ink-like swirls stretching up an arm. Marked. From their sheer size, to the fact that they’re doing this act of kindness for you at all…

Ah. Your savior of the hour is Garrick Tavis.

You’re not sure how this little…arrangement of yours came about. Garrick, by all means, should probably hate you for a multitude of reasons. You thought he was going to kill you the first (and only) time you actually managed to pin him during a match. Instead, though, he’d just lazily grinned up at you, his (admittedly gorgeous) hazel eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Damn,” he’d said in a low voice. “Who knew a princess could have some bite to her?”

You weren’t even sure if he actually knew your secret. The man was smart, sure, but you thought you were smarter. If he knew who you actually were, he didn’t indicate it. The nickname, the one that pissed you off to new extremes, the one he’d defaulted to using every time he had to interact with you, just felt way too intentional. 

Maybe you were just paranoid.

Glancing back up at him, you smile weakly. “Playing my saving grace again, Tavis?” you tease, wincing as you rest your head against the wall.

He half-turns, keeping you in his peripherals. “No offense, Camden, but you look like you’re about to keel over. You went down pretty hard earlier, no?”

You sigh. You supposed you probably did look like shit. You certainly felt like it. “Fair. You, uh…don’t have to do that, you know. I was about to head over to the infirmary, anyway.”

He scoffs. “Not a chance, Princess. They’re not letting us out of here for another hour, tops. No exceptions.”

Your temper flares a little. You start to rise before another bout of dizziness hits you, sending you directly back on to the ground. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Garrick turns fully, crouching in front of you and searching your eyes to see if you were actually about to faint. Luckily for you, though, he’s tall enough that him crouching is still enough to block out most of the irritating light of the gym. 

“A lot.” He smiles slyly. “But it suits you. You’re no damsel in distress, but if you weren’t here, you’d probably be up in some manor waiting for diplomat studies. You’re pretty enough for it, at least.”

Oh, the irony. You wish you were still in diplomatic studies.

“Well, still,” you say with a scowl. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Of course.”

A beat. His eyes sparkle.

“My Queen.”

Shit. You almost choke.

“How embarrassing,” you hear your dragon muse in the back of your mind. “Say something, Ríoga. The Wind-Wielder will capitalize on any moment he catches you off-guard, you know.”

You try to slow your racing heart (whether it’s from being flustered or panicked, you can’t tell) and just raise an eyebrow, although your fingers twitch. “That has to be some form of Navarrian blasphemy.”

Garrick’s head tilts back as he laughs. “Blasphemy?” he echoes. “Hardly. If anything, it’s a prophecy.”

He leans a little closer, leaving the two of you knee-to-knee. His tone lowers. “I’m serious, Camden. You’re fucking stunning, even when you’re sort of out of it. You hate being called a princess, but it really does suit you.”

You hate that. You despise it. You’ve gone your whole life being reminded time and time again that, even if you did have that Tauri blood running through your veins, you’d never be royal. Bastards, no matter how great, no matter the good they did, no matter the legends they conceived, could never be truly royal. Not in ways that mattered.

Coming from Garrick, though…

Huh. The title felt different. Perhaps because he didn’t spit it the way other, more aware people did. He never taunted you with it, never sneered it, never looked down on you. You weren’t considered a real princess, but you could be a princess to him.

Your lips twitch. “Please. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

His expression falls into one of incredulity. “You’re kidding. Look in a damn mirror.” 

He looks as if he’s about to go on a whole rant before he’s cut off by a sharp, “Tavis! Get your ass back on the mat!”

The both of you falter for a second before you grin. “I guess that’s your cue.”

You think you catch Garrick looking slightly…disappointed before he schools his face into a teasing mask.

“Guess so,” he says before leaning a little closer. His lips brush against your temple, making your heart pound exponentially faster.

“See you around, Princess.”

[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.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia Masterlist

One tragic day changes Dahlia's life forever. Despised by her father and brother, she's spent her entire life trying to be the child and sister she use to be. But nothing she ever does is good enough. She joins the Rider's Quadrant to prove them wrong. Garrick now in his second year has proven he is more than the mark on his skin to his fellow riders, and taken leadership of his own Squad alongside Xaden. Little does he know the girl walking across the parapet is about to send him on a rollercoaster of a year. Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos) WARNING - THIS SERIES NOW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM. I HAVE MARKED THESE PARTS WITH ❗️AS WELL AS LISTING A WARNING AT THE TOP OF THE CHAPTER. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ ONYX STORM, DO NOT READ THESE CHAPTERS.

First Year

No Daughter of Mine

What You Made Me

Bad Idea, Right? - Garrick

Third Squad.

Not A Good Idea - Garrick

Yield

Marked Like You

Prove You Wrong

10 Gold Pieces - Garrick

Keeping Tabs

Glimpse of the Past

Unexpected Feelings - Garrick

I'll Make This Quick

Little Girl Gone

Proven Wrong - Garrick

Mares In His Stable

Jealousy

I'm Trying - Garrick

Manifestation ❗️

Painful Touch - Garrick ❗️

Show Me ❗️

Somewhere I Belong

Aetos vs. Aetos

Would It Matter?

Give Them Hell

Stepping Up

Outsmarted

Frustration - Garrick

War Games

The Hostage

The First Betrayal

Reunification Day (Dual POV)

An Unlikely Hero

About Damn Time 🥵😍

Just Sex?

The Only Mare In His Stable

Disappointed - Garrick

Dragged Along

Second Year/Fourth Wing

39. Familiar Faces 40. Second Squad 41. Assessment Day 42. Without A Doubt 43. Our Family 44. Unexpected Reunion 45. Opening Up 46. Coffee Talk 47. Family Ties ❗️ 48. 49. Doing Great Sweetie 50. Friendly Advice

[malrieldremm]

INTERLINKED chapter 2

I'll tell your secrets to the stars

oc! Xaden Riorson's sister! insert.

Summary: Xaden's little sister finds herself having to survive in the war college of Basgiath, between new truths and the rediscovery of what she really is.

TW: death, fight.

World Count: 912

A/N: All rights to the characters and plot of the book go to Rebecca Yarros, however you have no right to republish or rework this story.

Also out on wattpad!

Masterlist - previous chapter

«a nightmare is just a dream: it cannot harm you directly. But it wears you out from the inside. Slowly. And if you carry that nightmare with you when the sun is high, you risk dying. Don't be fooled. We create our own nightmares»

—page 18 of Eris' diary.

Wood.

I could feel the wood against my fingertips as I gripped the axe tightly and shook it back and forth, repeatedly. I used a lot of strength, a strength given by an emotion that I couldn't put my finger on.And he screamed in pain and cried and trembled and begged me to stop as the ax collided and penetrated his body again and again, but I was in a sort of trance 

I was sweating. My breathing was labored, my eyes wide and fixed on my goal, my mouth slightly open.Blood splattered my face and the clothes I was wearing, making the scene even more graphic and terrifying than it already was.The weapon struck the man's head continuously and insistently, opening his skull and killing him.

Once I let go of the weapon I looked at the helpless body beneath me.There was nothing left of that man.Yet, I felt no sensation, no sense of peace or remorse.I didn't feel anything. Outside the small house I was in, everything was calm and regular, and life went on as normal. My hands were shaking: I didn't know if it was from the adrenaline or from what I had just done.

My heart pounded against my chest, my soul curled in on itself with shame, shame that I had managed to carry out such a violent act without fear or repentance.

"No, no, no, no! I didn't mean to!" I screamed, stumbling backwards and landing on the ground, eyes wide and tears streaming down my cheeks.

"It was all your fault.. what did you do.." my brother's voice said, like an echo, before revealing himself in front of me."

I didn't want to" I replied in a faint voice, while tears flowed from my eyes like a raging river."

It's all- your fault.." his silhouette said, before being pierced by a sword in the chest. Mother's sword.Blood dripped from his mouth as the life left his eyes.

"NO!"

I woke up with a start, with tears streaming down my face and my breath hitching. My legs were shaking, but I didn't care, I needed air.I slowly moved the covers off my body, sitting on the side of the bed, then standing up and tiptoing towards the door.Once outside I immediately relaxed at the sight of the stars, sitting in a hidden corner. If someone caught me out now, I'd be in a lot of trouble.I tried to breathe deeply, keeping my eyes closed, to calm my heart that was still pounding in my chest, threatening to jump out."You can't sleep too?" said a voice next to me.I think I had a heart attack.But when I turned to look at him, I found a similar face."And who the fuck are you?" I said, taking out my dagger, getting up on the ground and walking away from him."Hey hey! Okay, I'm Ridoc! Fourth wing!" He said, raising his hands.And then, I realized. He was little Sorrengail's teammate.What was he doing here at this time of night? And what did he want from me? Wait, what time was it?

"What are you doing out at this hour?"

"What are you doing out at this hour?"

I winced when we asked the same question at the same time. What the hell?"I could not sleep." He immediately answered."Me neither." I replied, before looking at him carefully: he has dark brown hair that flops against the brown skin of his forehead as he moves. He's not very tall, i think just one inch more than me.Christ, everyone in this quadrant is too beautiful. Men, women, even a chimpanzee would look sexy if he walked in here, probably.

"Nightmare?" He asked, and I flinched again. He noticed, nodding his head towards me. "You're sweaty and I can tell you've been crying, plus you look like you just woke up" he explained looking at me.I didn't respond, simply preferring the option of turning my head to the other side, then raising it slightly to be able to direct my gaze and look at the stars.He was silent for a while, and as soon as I started to think that maybe he would go away, he raised his head to look at the stars, and spoke."I have them too" his tone was sweet, vulnerable. Hearing that warmed my soul. In a place like this, where any vulnerability or form of humanity was despised, seeing someone show it made me vulnerable too."It's shitty" I whispered, but my attention shifted when I saw him lower himself, and sit on the ground, looking at the sky decorated with thousands of stars. So I sat down too, at a safe distance, with the dagger still in my hand.

No words, I didn't even give him a look. That night no one found us out late and yelled at us. That night, I spent hours sitting next to what could easily have been my enemy during the day. He could have killed me, but he didn't.And I wasn't worried that this would somehow get out or make people realize how fucking weak I really am.

I know he won't say anything, because now, he knows my secret, and I know his. And here, in this quadrant, is perhaps the worst a cadet could have:

We are human.

[togeppys]

family line ;

riorson!reader x garrick tavis onyx storm spoilers

xaden's younger sister, who has been in a relationship with garrick since before the rebellion, is meeting her mother for the first time in 13 years in hedotis and dealing with all of the chaos on the isle. based off of the song family line by conan gray & only one use of Y/N because I could not find a way to work around it lol wc: 8.5k whoops cross posted on ao3!

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive

As your dragon makes contact with the sand in Hedotis, you slide down their front leg to finally disembark after the aching 13 hour flight that your squad endured. Your body is tense from the rigid position you were forced to maintain on the ride, so you stretch to get all of the knots out of your body while familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. With a roll of your shoulders, you take in the slightly cooler temperature of this particular isle, and the new greenery that adorns the ground ahead of the group. You turn to look at the sea and the expanse of blue that seems to go on endlessly, relishing in the peace that overtakes you as you watch the waves roll in and crash at the shore.

Raising your arms above your head to stretch out your back, you let out a deep breath as the tension begins to lessen and you finally begin to feel comfortable again. Before you can fully lower your arms back down to your side and move to locate your brother or Garrick amongst the squad, a muscular set of arms wrap themselves around your waist, their owner's head coming to rest on your right shoulder. You don't need to turn to recognize the feeling of Garrick embracing you, and all you can do for a moment is smile, taking in the comfort of the warmth that he presents.

"Beautiful," Garrick comments and you can't help but agree, assuming he's describing the sea that you've been staring at for at least a few minutes now.

"It is, isn't it?" you ask rhetorically, staring down at the horizon where the blue of the sea meets the blue of the morning sky, "There's something inherently peaceful about it all, and it's such a gorgeous shade of blue."

"I wasn't talking about the sea," your boyfriend responds, spinning you around in his arms so that you're now facing him, and you can clearly see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that somehow always seems to make itself visible when he flirts with you. He leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the lips before standing up straight once again.

Despite the fact that the two of you had been dating since right before the apostasy, you still get butterflies when he does things like this, and you feel your cheeks redden slightly despite your brain telling you that it's irrational to be getting this giddy when a man that you've been dating for six years tells you that you're beautiful.

You jokingly smack him in the center of his very muscular chest, and he lets out a laugh, finally untangling his arms from around your waist. You take his hand in your own, beginning to pull him towards the other riders and fliers who had gathered a little ways away. Your eyes skim over the buildings and merchants nearby as you approach them, finally hearing what they were discussing.

Mira and Drake are busy arguing about the Pelson maneuver, and both of you can't help but smile as no one takes Drake's side. It's when Xaden snaps at him that your smiles quickly drop, and you, Garrick, and Violet look at each other alarmed. Something that trivial ticked Xaden off that easily? Anxiety over how quickly your brother's humanity is deteriorating tightens your chest, and Garrick gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You only look away from each other when Violet's head snaps towards a group in tunics that approaches your squad. As you all turn to face them, your boyfriend removes his hand from yours and you almost protest, before he instead wraps one arm around your waist protectively, as if he can yank you behind him at a moment's notice.

The man who approached you compliments your dragons, and introduces himself after Xaden questions who he is.

"I'm Faris, the second of the triumvirate," his introduction begins, and you can't help but stare at the colour of his eyes, a shade of blue bordering purple that you'd never seen on anyone before. Many people on the Continent had incredible eyes, but you had never seen any this colour before.

"Welcome to Hedotis," he greets the group, before complimenting Violet on her eyes. It appears to be a trait that everyone is focused on in the moment.

"I was just thinking the same about you," she admits.

"Mine are quite common on our isle," he responds, "I've brought my household to formally make your acquaintance and escort you through our beautiful city. If you're amenable, we have room for you to rest at our home on the northeast shore."

He gestures behind him and looks over at the group he arrived with. "Darling, won't you come say hello? I apologize for my wife. Talia seems to be overcome by your magnificent dragons."

The name sends a shiver down your spine - hearing your mother's name spoken by anyone brings a sour taste to your mouth, regardless of whether or not it's in reference to her specifically. A woman who seems to be the man's wife walks up to approach him, her face hidden from view. Her gown flows behind her, and she laces her fingers in his hand.

When she looks up and you can finally see her face clearly, you're frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought or will your body to do anything that isn't just stand utterly still and stare at the woman in front of you. Her gaze first catches on your brother who is as frozen as you are, her eyes widening in shock. Her eyes study him for a moment unbelieving, before they flick over to you and you suddenly forget how to breathe as she looks over you in a similar fashion. Your knees go weak beneath you, and if it weren't for Garrick's arm holding you upright, you think that you'd have collapsed into the sand by now. The boy next to you is visibly pale as he mutters, "Oh, shit."

"Xaden? Y/N?" she whispers, raising her hand before dropping it, "Is that really you?"

Upon hearing her speak, you and Xaden seem to exit your trancelike state, your senses finally coming back to you. The moment of shock is gone, and all you can feel is rage. The woman before you is not the woman you spent your childhood looking up to, wishing you could be as graceful and beautiful as her. She's the woman who abandoned you at 8 years old in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. She's alive, been here in Hedotis all this time, without so much as a message. You see red, as Xaden curtly greets her with a tense "Mom."

She looks at you expectedly, and you can't find it in yourself to meet her with the same greeting. She lost the ability to be your 'mom' when she left you at a time when you were a child who needed a guiding feminine figure in your life. She lost the title of 'mom' when she didn't come back for you when your father died and you were forced into a foster home and subsequently Basgiath.

"Mother," is all you can get out, because the woman before you is not your mom, she's just the woman who brought you into this cruel world.

— • —

You sit silently with your legs draped over Garrick's lap on a couch in the bedroom that the two of you are sharing. You haven't said a single word since your first encounter with your mother, and you're grateful that your boyfriend doesn't push you to comment on it until you're ready. One of his hands soothingly combs through your hair, grounding you from the ire that pulses through your veins. Your mind hasn't calmed once since that moment, thought after thought plaguing you, your body essentially acting as if being controlled by an external source.

You were only eight when your mother had left, still a child with your kid-like features dominating your appearance. When you were fourteen, you had once heard Garrick and Bodhi's mothers whispering about how you looked exactly like your mother, only sharing a few features with Fen and your brother. Upon seeing her for the first time as an adult, you realized that they had not been exaggerating. There was no doubt that you were her offspring, your features almost identical to hers, which only made the experience more infuriating.

Xaden had informed you that he had no intention of talking with your mother before he retreated into his room with Violet, and you couldn't blame him. She left on his birthday, and he was the one that was forced to take on the responsibilities that never should have been his to bear. You wanted to do the same, shut the woman down if she tried to talk to you, but something in you also wanted answers; to hear the doubts that had circled in your mind for years confirmed, so that you could either find it in you to forgive her and move on, or conclude that she never was the woman you thought she was.

As if hearing your thoughts, a soft knock sounds on your door, and you know it's her - none of the riders or fliers would knock on the door with so much uncertainty. Garrick's hand freezes in your hair and he looks to you for confirmation.

"I'll go open it," he says, soft enough so that his voice can't be heard on the other side of the door, "Do you want to talk to her? I'll tell her to fuck off if the answer is no."

You ponder the options for a moment as a second knock follows. You can't seem to make up your mind, but your brain is leaning more towards hopefully never encountering her again. You shake your head in response, and he nods in understanding, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as he moves your legs to the side so that he can stand up and walk to the door.

When the door opens you hear a clear "Garrick-" from your mother before the man swiftly steps through the crack in the door and into the hallway, shutting the door behind him so that their voices are now muffled.

"She doesn't want to talk," you can vaguely hear him say in response to a garbled request from the woman, his voice raised enough that you can still hear him despite the wall separating you, "And rightfully so, you abandoned them thirteen years ago and you're expecting for them to what, welcome you back with open arms and cheer for their mommy? A fruit platter isn't going to change you not being there for thirteen years. At this point, you've been gone longer than you were ever there. Besides, if you had been around the whole time you'd know she's too afraid of eating figs ever since Fen had to save her from choking on one."

You can't help but smile at the way that the older boy is defending you through lecturing your own mother. You know this is just as shocking for him - the woman was a frequent figure in his childhood as well before she turned her back on all of Tyrrendor and everyone within it. You're grateful for the protective stance that he's immediately taken, mentally reminding yourself to show him your gratitude when you're no longer in this situation.

"I'm not expecting a jolly reunion, I just want to talk, even if only for a few moments," your mother responds, a strain in her voice as if begging Garrick to convince you to talk to her, "She has the right to be angry, I just… I want to explain."

While you know that you likely can't trust a word she's saying, hearing her say that ignites the spark in you that makes you want to get your answers. Xaden definitely isn't going to talk to her, so maybe you can get answers for you both. You wonder if she had already tried at Xaden's door, and how Violet would have handled this situation. Garrick at least knew the woman before she left so he's able to argue with her, Violet has next to no context to defend Xaden.

"Explain what? That you abandoned your two children in the middle of the night without telling them you were leaving in the first place?" you hear Garrick scoff, "You weren't there to see the two people I care about most in this world fall apart because they lost someone that was supposed to be there for them and love them unconditionally."

Your heart seizes at Garrick's words as he continues angrily berating your mother. You really have to make sure he knows how much you appreciate him standing up for you later. Your heart takes over your head, and you find yourself standing up and making yourself look presentable in the mirror. You're going to go out there and put up with the woman for even just a few moments so you can get your answers.

"I do love them," you can hear Talia protest as you move towards the door, "You don't understand Garrick, you were just a child yourself. Even if it's just at dinner tonight, I need-- I want to talk to at least one of my children."

"Exactly, I was just a child, but your own son was the same age as me, much less your daughter being two years younger, and even I couldn't fathom your rationale for just up and leaving, so just imagine how much they-" Garrick's voice gets louder as you open the door, and his sentence is cut short, his head immediately snapping over to you as you stand in the doorway, eyes blank as you glance between the duo that had been arguing outside your door.

"My girl…" your mother whispers seeing you in the doorway, and you immediately shut her down.

"You lost the right to call me that when you abandoned me and Xaden," you state firmly, eyes boring into the woman before you even as her face falls from hearing your statement, "I wasn't going to talk but you get ten minutes to answer questions I have. That's all you're getting."

Talia frantically nods, agreeing to those terms, "Yes, yes of course, there's a room down the hall where we can sit." She brings your attention to the fruit tray that she has apparently been holding all this time. The hazel eyed boy looks at you with a skeptical glance, as if confirming that this is what you really want. You nod, hand briefly brushing over his bicep as your mother waits for you to follow her.

"Thank you," you whisper to him.

"I'll be right outside in the hall if you need me, okay?" he reassures, and you nod once again, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you move to follow after the woman.

As you walk down the hall, she spares a quick glance back towards Garrick, who hasn't moved an inch as he carefully watches the two of you walk away.

"The two of you really did end up together," the woman says, likely thinking back to when you were a child and you used to proclaim innocently that you would marry Garrick one day, seeing as he was the only boy you frequently played with that wasn't your brother or cousin, "He really loves you to defend you like that."

She doesn't say anything for a few moments as if in thought, before she continues. "Do you love him?"

You furrow your brows, finally looking at the woman in confusion. "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

She's silent once again, not answering your question, and you start to worry that this may be indicative of the conversation you're about to have.

"You and Xaden both… you found people who really love you. I'm happy," she finally says, and you once again look over at her confused. What is she playing at? Is this her way of trying to manipulate you into forgiving her in hopes that Xaden will follow in your footsteps?

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and continue following after her. You're talking to her to get answers on behalf of your eight-year-old self. Nothing more.

— • —

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it All of my pain and all your excuses I was a kid but I wasn't clueless (Someone who loves you wouldn't do this) All of my past, I tried to erase it But now I see, would I even change it? Might share a face and share a last name, but (We are not the same)

"You never told us you were from Hedotis," you state accusingly as you now sit across from Talia in a grand room obviously meant for casual conversation with guests, the fruit tray resting on a small table between the two of you. She had never once explicitly mentioned being from the isle to you or Xaden, though in hindsight it seemed the obvious conclusion. She loved bright colours, and at night she soothed you and your brother with arinmint tea and stories of a purple-eyed race that lived in peace.

You and Xaden had come to the conclusion that she was hiding among the forces in Poromiel, completely unaware of the grand life that she had been living while her two children faced the possibility of death every day. You can't help but let your eyes wander over the grandeur of the room you're currently seated in; windows framed with intricately embroidered curtains, the shine of a clearly maintained floor, everything placed strategically around the room as if to serve a greater purpose. You have to stop yourself from comparing the room to how she maintained Riorson house years ago, in fear of accidentally letting your walls down in front of her.

"You and Xaden are the heirs to Tyrrendor, it was necessary you grew up with the Tyrrish customs, not those of Hedotis," she responds smoothly, as if her response was practised. You wonder if that was the lie she told herself all those years ago to rationalize hiding this information from the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to properly continue this conversation. You came into this discussion with the intention of getting answers, but now that the truth is within your reach, you're suddenly not so sure you want it. She stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask the question that hangs heavily in the air.

"Why did you leave?" you blurt out, finally finding it in yourself to ask before you become too scared to face the answers you're about to receive.

"I was only wed to your father because of a contract-" she begins, but you quickly cut her off.

"I know about the contract," you dismiss her response, once again immediately identifying this as a part of her rehearsed rationalizations, "I know that you never loved Dad, but you had to have an heir reach ten years old. You only had me two years after Xaden to make sure you wouldn't have to bear another child and stay another ten years if anything happened to him, didn't you?"

She stares at you, eyes wide for a moment, obviously not expecting this to be one of the questions you asked. A few seconds pass before she slowly nods, the first long-unanswered question you had finally being confirmed. You're not sure how to feel- your mother just confirmed that you were essentially just a backup for your brother.

"Is that why it was so easy for you to leave then?" you follow up, voicing the thoughts that swirl up in the back of your head, eyes never leaving her for a moment. You can see how she tenses, this conversation not going in the direction she expected.

"It was never easy for me to leave," she counters, shaking her head, "It was the most difficult thing I've ever done." Sorrow is plastered all over her face, but at this point you can't tell if it's real or just pretend- she'd lied to you throughout your entire childhood, who's to say she wasn't lying in this moment too?

"You didn't have to leave just because your contract was over," you fire back, crossing your arms over your chest, "If you really loved us, you would have stayed and been there for us as a mother would."

"I would have been killed! Either publicly as your father was, or in secret just as Mairi's husband was - I couldn't be a mother to you if I was dead," she tries to argue, but you can't help but roll your eyes.

"You weren't a mother to us either way. Dad wasn't killed until I was 15, there were moments that I- we needed you in the seven years you weren't there," you instantly reply, bitterness seeping from your words "And okay, fine if I play into that narrative, why didn't you come back for us when the rebellion was over? Xaden and I were sent to foster homes while our mother was apparently alive and thriving on the other side of the sea."

The resentment that radiates from you is evident, and the woman before you seems to shrink into herself with each word you speak. She displays regret, but there's no way of telling how sincere those outwardly displayed emotions are.

"I wanted to take you with me when I left," she begins, speaking slower now as if choosing her wording very carefully, "Your father wouldn't let me. I wanted to come back for you when I got word that the rebellion was over too, but General Melgren was watching all of you children too closely. I feared that he would consider it treason if I brought you two here, and would kill all three of us on the spot."

There is some reason to what she is saying - there was no way Melgren would have let the two children of the rebellion's leader flee the Continent and his control, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

"The least you could have done was tell us that you were leaving instead of disappearing in the middle of the night," you state plainly, and notice how she lowers her head as if agreeing with a small nod.

"Yes, leaving on Xaden's birthday was not the best way to go, but you have to understand that you were both very emotionally attached children. You sobbed uncontrollably every time your father had to leave for trips away, I never would have been able to leave if I told you both that I was leaving the Continent." she starts rambling, her excuses falling on deaf ears.

The frustration that had been simmering at a low boil within you has begun coursing through your veins as you hear her explanations, finding it increasingly difficult to stay civil.

"And you didn't stop to think that might have been an indicator that you shouldn't have left?" you snap, earning a flinch from your mother. Before, she had been willing to let you lead this conversation, but now the woman has rebuttals as the conversation approaches the direction that she had been anticipating.

"I felt nothing but love and adoration for both of you, but you were just children. You wouldn't have understood-" she starts, but your frustration has escalated to exasperation over the fact that despite your points, she does not seem capable of seeing the situation from your point of view.

"We understood fully well what abandonment felt like," your voice is laced with even more resentment as you interrupt her last excuse, ready to bring perspective to what life had been like following her departure, "What you didn't understand was how your leaving scarred me and Xaden. I slept by the foot of your bed every night, thinking that you would come back and I'd be there to see you when you returned. Dad noticed after a few nights and let me sleep in his bed until he was sure that I knew he would never willingly abandon me. So yes, I was a child but I had a better understanding of how a loving parent should act because of Dad than you ever will."

Talia looks at you in stunned silence, a tear rolling down her cheek. She reaches for your hand, but you immediately pull it away, unable to share in this emotionally vulnerable moment with her. You can't find it in yourself to pity her as the gravity of her actions seems to finally sink in.

"I- I didn't realize," she manages to whisper, and all you can do is scoff. You're not sure what she expected from you. Did she think you would accept her excuse of wanting to preserve her own life? Your father made sure to compensate extra for the lack of her presence in your life, and nothing she exhibits now comes even close to the love you felt from him when he was alive.

"Of course you didn't," you gesture to the room around you, though monochromatic, it's much more majestic than the life you'd been living before your return to Aretia, "When you have a life like this you don't need to think about your two children running from death on the Continent. What, you got married immediately, had a couple more kids and forgot all about us?"

You meant it as a sarcastic joke, but the pause and brief panic that flashes behind the eyes that are so similar to your own is not lost upon you when she responds, "I never forgot about the two of you."

Your eyes narrow in her direction as you lean forward slightly in your seat. "Did you have more children when you returned here?"

Talia's lips straighten into a thin line as if contemplating whether or not to divulge her next words. Finally, she decides to tell you the truth. "Yes, I have two sons with Faris. Simeon and Gaius."

It's now your turn to be stunned to silence. You have two half-brothers that you didn't know existed. Two more children to replace you and Xaden. You can't help the jealousy that consumes you; the two boys get to have a childhood with the mother that you and Xaden didn't get to fully experience - a childhood that didn't end in abandonment. You were already born to be a replacement for your older brother, and the fact that she had exactly two more children is the icing on the cake. Your next words are spoken coldly, as only fury fuels you now.

"This whole time, I wished you were dead," you start after the prolonged moment of silence that had passed, earning you a bewildered look, "I thought that there was no way the mother I grew up adoring wouldn't come back for us unless it was physically impossible for her to return."

Talia opens her mouth as if to protest, but you continue before she has the chance to speak.

"We might share the same features, but I am nothing like you. You say you love us but someone who loves their children would never make them feel the way you made me and Xaden feel. I will never treat my children the way that you treated us." Standing up angrily, you cast a cursory glance at the fruit tray that rests untouched in front of you. Its contents are all tailored to things you and Xaden liked as children, but don't match your current tastes at all, only further proving that she's too busy clinging to an idealistic past.

"I will be attending dinner but only for the sake of Violet's mission," you begin walking towards the door without so much as a second glance to the woman, "I don't speak on behalf of Xaden, but do not expect anything more of me."

You don't wait to hear her response before throwing the door open and walking out into the hallway. Garrick, who was patiently leaning up against one of the walls waiting for you, immediately straightens up upon seeing you emerge. Immediately noticing the anger plastered over your face, he cups the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb in a soothing manner.

"I don't expect that went particularly well," he comments, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, it definitely did not," you respond, removing his hand, instead lacing your fingers with his, "Thank you for waiting out here for me."

The boy flashes you a sympathetic smile, the dimple just barely popping in his cheek, "Any day, love."

The two of you begin walking back to your assigned room, and you force yourself not to let any tears fall. You wasted too many tears on this woman as a child, and you will not let any more be shed because of her.

"She's somehow more awful of a mother than I remember," you try to joke.

"Really? I was going to nominate her for mother of the year," the boy jokes back as you walk through the doorway back into your shared room, "Though I guess she is the only one left so it's not really a fair competition."

You can't help but laugh, though you do acknowledge the harrowing truth that she is the last parent alive for any of you marked ones. Where there had been a mother-shaped gap in your life, the parents of your friends were more than willing to take turns acting as a second parent whenever you needed one.

When you had entered womanhood, Bodhi's mother was there giving you tips and helping you select any feminine items that you needed. When you got sick while your father was away on a prolonged trip, Imogen's mother brought you soup and made sure that you were well rested. When you first started dating Garrick, his mother was there to give you both a stern talking to about staying safe and making sure that you were both equally embarrassed by the end of her speech.

You didn't need the woman who gave you life to be present in your life when you had a community of people that truly loved you, always ready to stand by your side.

The revelation brings you to double check that the door to your room is closed and locked, before pushing Garrick to sit on the edge of your bed, with you standing between his legs. His eyes widen in shock, before fluttering shut as you go to firmly place a kiss on his lips, his hands reflexively going to rest at your hips. He enthusiastically returns the kiss, before abruptly pulling away. You frown as he looks at you, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"As much as I like what appears to be developing here, I need to know that you're not just doing this because of whatever just happened with Talia-" he begins, his eyes looking between yours for confirmation that you're in the right state of mind.

You cut him off with another kiss, once again lasting only a few more seconds before you pull away to whisper in his ear.

"I spent so long caring about the mother that wasn't there for me, and I haven't been giving enough appreciation to the boy that has been by my side through it all," you say, and you can feel the sudden increase in his heart rate.

You see the corners of his mouth lift up in a smile, as his hands tighten around your hips.

"I won't argue with that."

— • —

How could you hurt a little kid? I can't forget, I can't forgive you 'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me

You and Garrick were the last to arrive for dinner, and much to your dismay, the only two seats left at the table were the two right next to your mother. Garrick gives you a glance and takes the seat next to the woman before you can even open your mouth to comment on the situation. You mutter a quick thanks to him, before taking the seat to his left, next to Aaric. Xaden shoots you a glance as well, a look that he has perfected over the years, silently asking you if you're okay. You nod slightly, and he nods in response, indicating that he's okay as well.

After the conversation you had with Talia, you don't have much of an appetite. At first you only pick at your food, but Garrick leans over to you, whispering in your ear that you should eat so that you have energy to explore the rest of the isle. You can't argue with that, and use a hyper-focus on the plate in front of you as an excuse for avoiding the stare that Talia has divided between you and Xaden.

You only retain bits and pieces of the conversation, cataloguing enough so that you're informed enough for the mission, but not paying full attention in fear of either breaking down or lashing out against the woman to Garrick's right.

You can't help but tighten your grip around your fork as the remainder of your group identifies that this dinner is a test of all of you - a way for them to determine if you're worth their time.

"Talia will serve as witness," Nairi says, "And we thought an informal setting would be best given the… delicate nature of relations."

You can't help the satisfaction that comes from seeing your mother's shoulders slump as she shrinks in on herself at that statement.

"You mean in case my sister and I embarrass our mother in a public setting with our lack of wisdom. Is that your fear, Mom?" Xaden quips back coolly, casting a glance over at you before glaring daggers into the woman. To some degree, she's lucky that you had the conversation with her earlier - you can't imagine how much less civil you would be right now if you hadn't taken out your anger on her earlier in the day. She has two new perfect sons that she can present to the public. You and Xaden are now reduced only to these secluded meetings, her Riorson children not up to the Hedotis standard.

"No." The woman seems to regain her previous composure, realizing how weak she had looked before, "My reticence about tonight is due to my own shame, in that I asked Faris for a personal favour so that you might be more comfortable during the conversation. I don't worry about your intelligence. You were always bright children." She reaches for her goblet, hand shaking, a reminder to you of her cowardice. Despite what she says right now, you know that she's afraid of how her husband and the remainder of the triumvirate will perceive her two children from her past.

You can't help the audible scoff that escapes you, Aaric sparing you a quick look as Faris seems to change the subject, focus shifting to Cat as they discuss gryphons. It's not lost on you that she can only comment on your intelligence before she left, but what value does that measure present? You were eight and Xaden ten, merely children who knew so little of the world. Now you're both adults, riders bearing the burden of a revolution on your back. Your intelligence then is nothing compared to what you know now.

You're brought back to the conversation when you hear Nairi speak up once again. "So many young royals here. So many potential alliances. Why are you not contracted to one another? It seems… foolish not to forge futures and provide heirs who could unite your kingdoms."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you notice that even Garrick can't hide the shock on his face at that statement.

Aaric defends his reasoning from next to you, so nonchalant that he appears as if this is just regular dinner conversation to him. You can't help but respect the way that he treats all of this with grace despite the subtle insult.

When Nairi turns to Xaden, his gaze also flickering over to you, you find yourself holding your breath. The whole situation with Cat and Violet was messy, and you fear slightly for how this will turn out.

"And your excuse? We received news months ago that your title had been restored to you." Your heart seizes, but you don't let it show. They have more current information than you realized; you should have guessed based on the way that Talia mentioned she knew about the rebellion ending, but it still hurts to hear.

"Well then as you know, I'm a duke, not a prince." Xaden responds even-toned, contrasting his action of stabbing a piece of potato on his plate with a fork. Nairi looks over to you, as if expecting your response as well.

"I'm only the backup for Tyrrendor," you sourly look towards your mother, who avoids eye contact at the accusatory statement, "I don't inherit much as long as Xaden stays alive, so I'm free to marry Garrick with no consequences." You toss a small smile over to the boy next to you, who in return has a smug smile light up his face, his arm going to rest on the back of your chair.

Talia rushes to defend Xaden's position, immediately blabbering on about the size of Tyrrendor and how an alliance was supposed to be secured, trailing off as she glances between Xaden and Violet.

"I don't owe you an explanation about my love life." Xaden states, a complete lack of amusement clear on his face.

"Lost that privilege about thirteen years ago," you mutter in response, but the woman hears it, and a dejected look crosses her face before she pivots to Cat, who is now summarizing the situation between her and Xaden, and the benefits of Xaden and Violet being in a relationship. You roll your eyes as the triumvirate seems to argue their points, proposing a contract marriage between Xaden and Cat.

Your blood begins to boil at the conversation unveiling before you. Do none of these people have an ounce of humanity in them? Is everything only done for the sake of a contract? You look between Talia and Faris, and you begin to see how clearly she fits in here, the woman who was willing to abandon her two young children for the sake of contract, married to this man who has no regard for Xaden and Violet's relationship.

"If bloodlines equaled allegiance, we wouldn't be sitting here under interrogation," Garrick pipes up sarcastically laughing, and you can't help but laugh at the truth of his statement. Talia was your mother, if you went by their logic, Hedotis would already be allied with Tyrrendor. "The two of them are your children right?"

A smile ghosts your lips at your mother's discomfort as she downs the tea in front of her in embarrassment.

"Draw up the papers," Xaden says suddenly, and all of your necks immediately snap towards him in shock. Is he really agreeing to a marriage with Cat?

"Ah, there we go! What an excellent decision. Shall we go with three or four years?" Faris exclaims happily, his hands clapping together. Normally, you would have a sarcastic retort, but you're too surprised by Xaden's response to say anything.

"Lifetime. Anything less is unacceptable," you watch as Xaden's hands meet the back of Violet's neck. "And her full name for the papers is Violet Sorrengail. Two Rs."

You almost choke on your own saliva, and Garrick does let a choked laugh out from beside you. Somehow, Aaric doesn't even react.

"My last name is tied to the title, but we could take yours," Xaden says to Violet.

"You could hyphenate? Or combine? Riorgail? Sorrenson?" Garrick proposes to the whole table, and you have to smack him in the leg so that he stops spurring them on. Xaden continues arguing with your mother who is a pleading and panicked mess from across the table.

Garrick turns to you as the others argue, his voice dropping and his dimple ever so present, "We could do that too when we get married. Thoughts on Riorvis? Tavson?"

You scrunch your face up in disgust, "Both of those sound awful."

He nods, "Yeah now that I hear it out loud I agree. Hyphenate? Riorson-Tavis? Tavis-Riorson."

You think on it for a moment, grateful to be having this lighthearted conversation rather than the heated topics the rest of the table are currently facing. "That's kind of a mouthful. I'm fine with just taking Tavis."

He raises an eyebrow surprised, but the smile doesn't leave his face, "You'd abandon the Riorson name?"

You lay a comforting hand on top of his thigh and a warm smile in response, "For you? Definitely."

He removes his hand from behind your chair, moving it to instead rest on top of yours. Your anger has dissipated, your mood significantly improving upon discussing the prospect of you being married to the love of your life. You're not going to let the rest of this table ruin that.

You focus on your food once again, instead taking your fork in your left hand now that your right is trapped under Garrick's. You try not to let your mother's words rile you up again; her spat with Xaden is almost word for word the same as the conversation she has had with you. It's clear that she has rehearsed her excuses, and you give Xaden the space to let his resentment out now, just as you had done in the guest room.

You don't speak another word until it's time for dessert, when your plate gets whisked away to the kitchen, and you lose your source of distraction. When dessert is placed in front of you, you can't do anything but freeze, eyes staring blankly at the slice of chocolate cake in front of you. You can't even find it in yourself to look up at your brother, for you know he's feeling the same sentiment as you right now. Chocolate cake was always his favourite, but it was equally sentimental to you. Every birthday or special event, chocolate cake was your mother's go-to celebration food. Every special occasion in your childhood was marked with this exact cake, and seeing it in front of you makes your mouth go dry.

Garrick has already begun eating the cake, mumbling to you about how it tastes exactly like the one from your childhood. You can't find it in yourself to take a bite - it feels as if you would be conceding to your mother, letting her win, showing her that she can still find a way into your heart.

You're suddenly snapped to your senses, as you see Violet from off to your left snatching the fork from Aaric's grasp. You look up in confusion, even more bewildered when you hear her yell "Stop!"

You quickly look around the table and notice that Garrick is the only one that's eaten any of the cake. Your heart starts to beat faster when you feel him start to sway.

"He said we could start," he says quizzically, before he blinks slowly, "I feel… I feel-" his eyes flutter and he collapses. By this point, your heart is beating wildly out of your chest as you and Aaric both lunge to stop him from completely dropping onto the table.

Holding him in your arms, you go to check his pulse, and you feel pure fear run through your entire body when Aaric, who is helping support the large man exclaims, "He's not breathing!"

Xaden runs over immediately, taking Garrick from your arms and laying him on the floor. You crouch next to him, refusing to leave his side, tears starting to blur your vision. You'd hoped in this kind of situation that you'd be able to remain calm, but seeing the man you love in such a vulnerable state, moments away from death, you lose all ability to think logically.

Your brother is checking his pulse once again, confirming that his heart is still barely beating.

"We need to get him to breathe, he's fucking blue." Aaric comments.

Xaden agrees, before leaning over and breathing into Garrick's mouth. The room feels as if it's spinning while you watch Garrick's chest rise as it's filled with the air from the other boy's breaths. You feel utterly useless as you sit there, watching your brother attempt to save your boyfriend's life.

"You poisoned my children?" you hear your mother shriek from across the room, your gaze snapping up as you hear her angrily berate her husband. You slowly start to put the pieces together. Faris poisoned the cake as part of the test, and Garrick was the only one who fell victim to it. This wasn't her doing, but if it weren't for her husband, you wouldn't be in this situation. You've already let her take enough from you, you won't let her take Garrick too.

"Let me," you say to Xaden, pushing him away from Garrick as he comes up for a breath. He starts to protest, but you cut him off, desperation in your voice, "Please Xaden, help Violet find a cure, I'll keep him breathing."

The boy hesitates before nodding, and he lets you take his place. Your lips meet your boyfriend's, significantly colder than they were only hours before. Tears stream down your face as you find a rhythm, breathing air into his lungs while Aaric sits near you in support. You don't hear a single word being spoken in the room, your frantic heartbeat the only sound in your ears as you work to keep the hazel eyed boy alive beneath you.

It feels like an eternity later when you feel Xaden's hand on your shoulder, urging you off of him so that you can take a break and he can take over for a bit. You look over to see Trager placing his hands on Garrick's chest to keep his heart beating. When did he get here?

You sluggishly look around the room to see that the rest of your group has arrived, and two members of the triumvirate are retching on the opposite side of the room. Tears are still frantically streaming down your cheeks as you stare down at your boyfriend's lifeless body, only being kept alive by the two men preventing him from drifting off to Malek.

"Don't leave me, please Garrick," you mumble, taking his hand into your own, "I can't lose you too, please stay alive." You don't look up when Cat and Maren come join you, the first girl soothingly rubbing a hand down your back, the latter mumbling encouraging words in your ear. You're too consumed with fear to be surprised that Cat is comforting you, though it does make sense to some degree. She controls emotions, it's only reasonable that she's here to comfort you through this. Or girl code or something. Who knows.

"He's going to be okay. Dain's preparing the cure now," Maren whispers into your ear, and you finally look up at the girl, pity in her eyes as she takes in your fragile state.

"They found it?" you whisper, and she nods. Cat's hand is removed from your back as Violet calls her off to do something, but Maren stays at your side.

"It was figs. He's just preparing it so Garrick can consume it. He's going to be fine." she smiles softly, and you finally stop trembling for long enough to her to take some comfort in your current state and go off to help Cat with her orders.

You don't move an inch until Dain comes back with the fig-drink and he and Xaden make quick work of trying to shove it down Garrick's throat. You lean forward, holding your breath once again, waiting to see if it works and if you'll have the man you love back to you.

He suddenly sputters, some of the drink coming out of his mouth, but Xaden is there in a moment telling him to get up and drink it. You feel as if your body is weightless, sagging in relief as your boyfriend takes four chugs to get the remainder of the drink down. He's alive and you're not going to lose him today.

You and Xaden both look at each other, relieved that he was able to at least be conscious for long enough to take in the drink. You take as few breaths as humanly possible in the next three minutes as you and your brother sit hand in hand next to his body waiting for him to wake up.

When Garrick groans and opens his eyes, muttering "This is my least favourite isle," you cry out, burying your face into his chest. Xaden's head falls back as if in a prayer of thanks that his best friend is alive.

Garrick lightly places a hand on the back of your head, as Xaden jumps up and goes to shove Faris against the wall. Deservedly so. You can't find it in yourself to be angry at your mother right now, you can only feel relief and the tears start once again as you remove yourself from Garrick's grasp.

You quickly move to place a kiss on his lips, more desperate than any shared between the two of you before. He weakly kisses you back for a few moments, before you finally come up for air. Your foreheads rest against each other, and he wipes away the tears that are falling down your cheeks.

"I thought I lost you Gare," you cry, trembling in his embrace.

"It's going to take more than a piece of chocolate cake for you to lose me, love." he jokes, and you can't help but laugh as you hold him, tighter than you ever have before, "Ironic the figs that almost choked you to death years ago are the thing that saved me today."

"I love you," is all you can say, despite the chaos reining around you. Fights are being broken out, threats being uttered, but all you care about is the boy in your arms right now that you hope to never lose again.

"I love you too," He kisses your temple with all the strength he can muster, before groaning as he tries to properly sit up, "Can we get the hell off this isle as soon as possible? Your mother's new family is a little psycho."

You smile, nodding as you support him.

"I think I agree, let's never come back."

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep

series masterlist

bodhi durran x fem!oc

next update: TBD

summary: Ania crosses the Parapet into the Riders Quadrant, and finally meets with the marked children of those who got her parents and brother killed. Bodhi Durran is quick to remind her that she's marked too.

current wordcount: 72k

current chapter count: fourteen

tags: slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, she falls first he falls harder, majority canon compliant, some canon deviance, explicit sexual content (🌶️), angst with a happy ending, fourth wing spoilers, iron flame spoilers, additional tags to be added

ao3

F O U R T H W I N G

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten 🌶

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen 🌶

I R O N F L A M E

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

...

ania or Áine (ahn-ya)- radiance or brightness

[sapchat]

Fourth Wing idea

What if, like in House of the Dragon(GOT too I guess) that when a dragons rider was pregnant, their dragon laid an egg?

Cuz like in HOTD, Syrax would lay a clutch each time Rhaenyra was pregnant.