#garrick fourth wing imagine

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I don't know if you're taking requests, but I'll take a chance haha, I read His Girl and became completely obsessed with Garrick because of you haha, could you make Garrick possessive/jealous of the female reader he says he hates, pleeease?

Well... I caved in. As always it's not exactly as the request but still something along the lines. 🤍✨🫧

Silent worry

"These are the petrol stations for today, hand them out to the squads", Garrick dropped a stash of papers next to you. You frowned at him instantly, "Our squad is supposed to be on a rest this week", you grunted, flipping through his plan. "Things change, hand them over. The first squad is supposed to leave in fifteen minutes", Garrick said bluntly.

"No they are not", you say firmly, and Garrick instantly raises an eyebrow at you. "I'm second in charge. You run this shit through me. They are not ready and will not fly. End of the conversation, Tavis", you pushed off the wall trying to size him up but in all honesty, who were you kidding? The guy was at least twice your size. His power was lethal. He didn't listen to people ordering him around. Unless it was Xaden or someone from the upper management.

"I gave you an order. You're not gonna follow through?", Garrick leaned over you. You hated that the height difference allowed him to look down on you lime that. You bit the inside of your cheek. You knew that you had to follow his orders but this was unheard of. The same squad that was supposed to fly now had only come back hours ago. Most of the cadets were still asleep.

"I'm telling you that I don't agree with your decision", you said through gritted teeth, "As a section leader you should know better". That was enough to ear a growl from Garrick. "You're getting too comfortable in your own position", he snarled, "Forgot what tasting dirt beneath other's boots felt like so quickly?". You know that Garrick can see the hurt that flashed through your eyes. You flex the muscles in your jaw. No, you were not gonna break beneath this man's gaze.

"Knock it down you two", Xaden's warning voice boomed as he and Bodhi walked towards you both. You drop your gaze yet you could almost swear that Garrick was about to say something but he had chosen against it at the very last minute. "Why are you too bickering once again, huh?", Bodhi draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him playfully but the tight smile on your face didn't ease. More anger, however, flared in Garrick's eyes. Gods, you were done with this. Pushing Bodhi's hand off you. You shoved the papers into Garrick's chest, "I'll form a squad myself and we will leave when I say that we leave", you hissed, sparing him one last look as you pushed past them.

"Was this necessary?", Bodhi asked as he moved to lean against the wall. "No one asked for your opinion, Bo", Garrick huffed as he looked down the balcony at you rushing down the stairs. "You're too harsh on her", Xaden mused. "We don't cuddle cadets, Riorson", Garrick bit back coldly. "Right, but she's a friend. A part of our close group, not some newbie", Bodhi noted firmly, clearly getting fed up with watching you two bickering back and forth no doubt. "She deserves better from you, man", Xaden tapped his shoulder as he turned to step away. As if Garrick didn't know that himself. But he wasn't grown on love. All he had was Xaden and then along the way, they found people they could trust. But emotions... Let's just say managing them had never been his strongest asset. "Fuck it", Garrick grumbled as he pushed away from the railing, turning to the stairs. Bodhi chuckled in the background, "Don't forget to tell her that you love her", he shouted from behind, only earning a vulgar gesture in return.

He had just rounded the corner when Chradh's voice echoed through his mind. Save yourself the running, she already left. Garrick let out a frustrated growl, How many did she take with her? There was a beat of silence. Three, others declined. Declined? How dare anyone decline your orders? The squads were as much under your command as they were under his. Before you blow up and embarrass yourself, she gave them a choice. No, he was going to have a long conversation with you when you came back and Garrick was more than ready to remind you just how you don't ask but give orders.

What he didn't know was that he was going to get long hours of waiting. Filled with nothing but self-sabotage. You should have been back a couple of hours ago. No matter how much he tried Garrick couldn't focus on anything. He was clueless in the class that he paid zero attention to. He didn't hear most of his friend's conversations. Training had taken some of the toll but only for that time. Only while he was punishing. One swift hook under another. The bag cracked through the seams. "Right, tiger, step aside", Bodhi called out but his joke didn't land and Garrick had him pinned against the wall in the blink of an eye. Xaden quickly cut in, pulling at his lifelong friend, "Outside now", there was no question in his voice, this was a demand.

Garrick rubbed his hands over his face. The cool breeze helped but it also reminded him that the sun was setting down. Meaning now it was way WAY past the time you were meant to be back. "She will come back", Xaden said calmly, "So whatever that's brewing inside you now", he gestured to his friend, "let go of it because she will be too tired to deal with your bullshit". Garrick knew that himself without anyone having to tell him.

"You know", Xaden moved to stand next to him, "You're miserable company when Y/N is not around". They both snickered quietly but Garricks's face glazed over first. "And whatever that you're thinking now is not true", Xaden cut In quickly, "Not that you deserve any praise but she likes you just the way you are", "Fuck you", Garrick muttered, turning away from his friend, "Violet made you soft as fuck". Xaden only smirked, "I would do anything for her. We both have sharp edges and scowls but they see right through it".

He sat in the courtyard after that. Glaring at the darkening horizon as if that somehow prevented the night from settling in. You humans are unbearable creatures Chradh mused. Ask her dragon where they are. A chuckle sounded, I enjoyed watching you sweat way too much to do that. Garrick was about to fight back as the sound of the wings filled the sky. It had to be you. It had to. All other squads were back. He had chucked dozens of times. The moment your blue dragon came in view Garrick nearly sank to the floor. You were seated. Your posture seemed strong. You had to be fine.

The moment everyone dismounted Garrick stepped forward. Crossing the distance between you two. Your dragon merely rolled his eyes. "You three are dismissed", he said bluntly to the cadets motioning for them to get on their way. They slowly looked among themselves before their eyes fell on you. "I said...", Gaarick started again but you quickly cut in, "Go you guys, I'll see you in the morning. You did great", you said softly, offering them a tired smile, that they quickly returned. Shooting Garrick a dirty look as they walked past, already engaged in a conversation of their own.

Your shoulders slump slightly, "Let's hear it", you sighed, clearly preparing yourself for Gaarick's harsh words. That flickered guilt within his chest. Had he genuinely been such an ass to you lately, that him getting angry was all you expect? Garrick stepped forward, his arms instantly reaching for your body as he wrapped you up in his embrace. Your body stayed stiff for a moment. The shock of the situation kept you paralyzed before you muttered, "Garrick?".

"Just tell me if you're hurt. Did you get attacked? Does anything hurt?", he pulled away abruptly, looking you over. Your eyes fall on his wind-swept hair, "Have you been sitting here all night?", you asked him softly. He lost a breath himself, halting before he nodded his head. Your face softened as you reached up to cup his cheek, "You didn't have to, everything is okay", "You were meant to be back hours ago and we separated like that and...", a string of frustrated words slipped past his lips. You watched him for a moment before you stepped forward, pressing your head against his chest as you squeezed him to you. Garrick lost a labored breath, his own body relaxing before he pressed a couple of loving kisses along your hairline. Tenderly stroking your back. You looked up at him, "Worrying looks good on you", you teased him softly earning an eye roll, "You sound like fucking Bodhi and Xaden", he huffed but his tight smile curved upwards as you softly giggled. "Come on let's get you fed and washed up", Garrick pulled you alongside him, his grip not loosening on you as you two walked towards the main entrance.

[angstywaifu]

Flight Attendant: Before we take off please make sure that all small items are secured. Garrick: Do you feel safe? Violet: Fuck you.

[soulofapatrick]

The Fourth Wing Boys and their Kinks

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

Words: 3.9K words

Warnings: smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[nomie-11]

Liam Mairi x Reader - The Artist and his Muse

masterlist!

Never once did Liam have the desire to learn how to draw, or learn how to paint, but as he whittled her dragon into another blank piece of wood, he was beginning to understand. He had no clue how to carve a mini figurine of her and her beautiful face, so he would need to learn how to draw. 

The idea had struck him like a bolt of Violet’s lightning—a restless itch that wouldn’t fade no matter how many times he told himself it was impossible or unreasonable. He was Liam Mairi, a warrior, soldier, protector, he had no business picking up a pencil to sketch her delicate lines or smoothing the curves of her figure with tender care. It was already somewhat unreasonable that he spent nearly all of his free time carving small figures of dragons. But when he glances at her, Y/n, laughing softly as her dragon swished his tail protectively behind her, he realized no battlefield could ever compare to the challenging art of capturing her essence. 

The unfinished wooden carving sat in his hands, its shape rough and unrefined, and he really couldn’t even tell that it was supposed to be a human, let alone Y/n. It wasn’t enough. The wood was too rigid to hold her warmth, her fire, her unmistakable spirit. He needed to bring her to life on paper before he could even think about turning that vision into something real. 

So that evening, after drills, Liam approached Violet. 

“I really, really need your help,” He pleaded as they walked towards the dining hall. “I need you to ask Jesinia to get me a book on how to draw from the archives. Please Violet.”

She snorted, suppressing a giggle as they grabbed their trays of food and sat down at their normal table. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied lightly, waving to Rhiannon and Y/n, who sat talking animatedly over something. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow during archive duty before breakfast.” 

“Thank you so much,” He sighed, taking his seat next to Violet and across from Y/n. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Why is Violet a lifesaver?” Y/n asked, tilting her head curiously. 

“No reason!” He replied, just a touch too quickly, hiding his red ears behind his hands in a way too obvious manner. 

—————————————-

Over the next week, Liam carried the drawing book everywhere he went, his new codex of sorts, tucked between his journals and Xaden’s training regimens. The first sketches were more than rough, messy lines that bore no real resemblance to Y/n or anything remotely human. He tore out the worst of them in frustration, crumpling the paper into tight balls that littered the floor of his quarters. But he persisted, staying up late in the quiet glow of candlelight, pencil in hand, practicing strokes, shading, and proportions as if his life depended on it. 

It was her smile that always tripped him up. How could something so effortless on her part feel so impossible to replicate? When she smiled, it was never just her lips; it was the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, the way her nose scrunched slightly when she laughed, the warmth it brought to her entire face. He could picture it so vividly in his mind that it hurt to see the flat, lifeless doodles staring back at him. 

Still, he refused to give up. He filled the pages of the makeshift sketchbook Xaden had scrapped up for him, painstakingly sketching her in every moment of silence they had. The way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while reading; the intensity in her gaze when she strategized during training; the rare softness of her expression when her large blue dragon nudged her shoulder, her hand resting gently on his scales. 

He began stealing glances whenever he could, noting the curve of her jawline or the way the sunlight caught the strands in her hair, a mesmerizing mix of highlights he couldn’t quite replicate. 

“Are you drawing her again?” Violet teased one afternoon, leaning over his shoulder as they sat by the edge of the sparring grounds, Y/n and Rhiannon going at each other just in front of them. He quickly closed the sketchbook, shooting her a warning glare. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled, his ears turning a bright crimson. 

“She’s going to figure it out eventually, you know,” Violet grinned, nudging him playfully. “You’re not exactly subtle.” 

Liam groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just… I can’t get it right. She’s—she’s so—”

”Complicated?” Violet offered with a smirk. 

“Perfect,” he corrected softly, almost too low for Violet to hear. 

Later that week, as they gathered in the common area to relax after a long day, Y/n sat down beside him, close enough that her shoulder brushed his. Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he clutched the sketchbook tighter, praying she wouldn’t notice it. 

“What’s that?” She asked, her tone curious, eyes flicking to the edge of the leather cover sticking out from under his arm. 

“Nothing!” He replied quickly. A little too quickly. 

Her eyebrows rose, a playful grin tugging at her lips. “Oh, it’s definitely something. Let me see.” 

Before he could react, she reached over, snatching the sketchbook from his hands with an ease that came from years of training together. 

“Y/n, wait!” Liam practically lunged after her, but it was too late. She flipped the book open, her eyes scanning the page in silence. 

At first, she didn’t speak, her expression unreadable. She turned page after page—her laughing, her dragon mid-flight, her leaning against a tree in a rare quiet moment. Some sketches were crude, others more refined, and some heartbreakingly detailed, especially the ones of her smiling. 

“You… you drew all these?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I—uh—yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, feeling like his heart might give out. “I know they’re not great, but—” 

“Are you kidding?” she interrupted, looking up at him with wide eyes, “These are… Liam, they’re beautiful.”

“You think so?” he asked, his voice hesitant, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. 

She nodded, her gaze softening as she held the sketchbook closer to her chest. “But… Why me?” 

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. 

Liam swallowed hard, his hands fidgeting in his lap as his ears turned a bright red. “Because… because you’re everything, Y/n. You’re fierce and kind and smart… and gods, you're just you. And I guess I wanted to try and hold onto that somehow. To show you what I see.” 

Her cheeks flushed, and for a moment, the ever-confident Y/n seemed at a loss for words. “Liam, I… I don’t even know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, his voice shaky. “Just… don’t laugh, okay?” 

“Laugh?” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Why would I laugh? No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” 

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes, the vulnerability in his chest almost too much to bear. The air between them felt charged, her fingers still clutching the sketchbook close to her heart as if tethering him in place. His mind screamed at him to say more, to do something, but for once, the fearless Liam Mairi felt fear clamp down hard, rooting him in place. He wanted so badly to close the gap between them, to taste the words that lingered on her lips, but he couldn’t move. 

And then she did. 

Her hand reached out, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and before he could process what was happening, she tugged him down, her lips meeting his in a rush of warmth and fire. It was soft at first, tentative, like testing the waters, but when he didn’t pull away, she leaned in deeper, her other hand dropping the sketchbook to the floor as it rested on the curve of his jaw. 

Liam’s breath hitched, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum as he surrendered to her touch, kissing her back harder than before. His hands hovered for a moment before settling gently on her waist, like he was afraid she might slip away if he held on too tightly. 

When they finally pulled apart, her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled with something he couldn’t quite name. 

“Well,” she said, a teasing smile curling her lips. “That’s one way to say thank you.” 

Liam let out a breathless laugh, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck. “I—uh—yeah, I guess it is.” 

She grinned, leaning in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And for the record, I think you captured me perfectly, Liam.” 

And with that, she kissed him again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to kiss her back.

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml , @acourtofsmutandstarlight , @kylaisra

[writinginatree]

Kisses & Confessions

Relationship(s): Garrick Tavis/fem!Riorson!reader

Summary: Garrick accidentally steals your first kiss, which leads to some long overdue confessions.

Part 2

You wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. Though, really, waking up is an exaggeration. You're blinking at the pale sunlight streaming into the room through the half-open curtains, too sleepy to even sit up. Maybe you're lucky and whoever is at the door will go away if you don't answer.

"Y/N? You still in there?"

You groan. Guess they won't go away. And worse, you hear a click as the bothersome person uses lesser magic to unlock the door. It swings open, revealing — Garrick. You let your head drop back into the pillow and turn to face the wall, whining for him to let you sleep.

"If I do that you're going to miss breakfast," he answers.

You hear the sound of your door being closed again, followed by his footsteps coming toward your bed. Your stomach growls at the mention of breakfast, but you're so warm and comfy right now. If Garrick let you, you could fall right back asleep. Unfortunately, he seems to have no intention of that. The mattress dips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, and you clutch your covers tighter around you, sure he'll try to snatch them away any second.

But he doesn't — not yet, at least. For now, he just pokes you in the side. "Come on. I'm tired, too, but we have to act normal, or people will wonder what we were doing last night."

That gets you a little more awake. You'd been out smuggling weapons to the fliers the night before, and had almost gotten caught returning. Afterwards, you'd lain awake for hours, tossing and turning uselessly. You couldn't have been asleep for much more than an hour or so when Garrick woke you up.

"Xaden won't let you come on these trips anymore if you can't get up the next morning," he adds.

Turning on your back to face him, you rub the sleep from your eyes and explain, "It's not the trip. I just couldn't fall asleep afterwards."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Too many thoughts in my head, I guess. Srian got tired of it and blocked me out so she could go to sleep. I was gonna get up and do some last minute studying, but then I guess I fell asleep for a bit after all."

The last word stretches into a yawn, and Garrick gives you a sympathetic look. You wonder how you look to him right now. Does he think you're cute, all sleepy and soft like this? Or do your messy hair and the dark circles you doubtlessly have under your eyes make you look appalling to him? Not that it should matter. He's seen you in much worse states before — like that time when you were eight and you and Xaden both were down with the flu, or when you got depressed over your mother leaving. But you were kids then. It's different now, and things that never mattered before suddenly do.

"Five more minutes," you grumble. "I'll just skip breakfast."

Garrick laughs. "Alright, sleepyhead. I'll tell Chradh to tell Cuir to tell Bodhi to save you a pastry or something. But if you don't get up in the next ten minutes you'll be late for class."

"Mhh, thank you. Tell him I want something with chocolate, yeah?"

"Right, because he totally doesn't know that. You always want everything with chocolate, Y/N."

"Tell him anyway," you insist. "Just to be sure."

"Okay, okay," he laughs, and after a moment, "I've passed it on."

You close your eyes again for a moment, cautiously reaching out to your own dragon. Lazy thing that she is, Srian is still asleep herself, just like you expected. If only you could afford the same luxury.

"Is this your definition of getting up?" Garrick asks.

"You said I still have ten minutes before I'm late for class."

"Yeah, and I'm guessing you'll need every one of those minutes to get dressed and search that mess on your desk for everything you need for class."

Unfortunately, he's not wrong.

Sitting up, you only now realize just how close he is to you. The fact that you would be sitting on his lap if you moved just a little closer to him shouldn't make your heart race the way it does, but ever since you came to Basgiath a little over a year ago, you've been developing a crush on Garrick — a crush that only seems to get worse with time. You still don't know where it came from. You've known Garrick practically your whole life, and he's always been one of your closest friends, but until last year, your feelings for him were strictly platonic. Maybe it's just that you'd never thought about it before. But on your first day in the quadrant, when you'd seen him again for the first time in what felt like forever, he'd looked so undeniably hot in his new second-year uniform that you saw him in a completely new light. No longer just your brother's best friend, but a very hot and loveable guy. You'd thought it was just a temporary crush you would soon get over, but now that you're a second-year yourself, you're still hopelessly pining after him.

While you're distracted thinking about how close he is, he leans in even closer to kiss your cheek — only you turn your head to look at him better at the same moment, so instead his lips land right on yours. Your breath catches in your throat, and if you weren't awake before, you definitely are now. It's barely a second before he pulls back and apologizes, but that second might honestly have been the best of your life. You can't exactly tell him that, but you do tell him he doesn't have to apologize. You know very well that he only meant to kiss your cheek, like he's done hundreds of times before throughout all the years you've known each other.

And unlike you, he seems to be completely unaffected by your accidental kiss. No trembling, no quickened breathing, not even the hint of a blush. He's as cool as ever, and you kind of hate him for it.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this flustered," he chuckles. "You're almost acting as if you've never been kissed before."

"Well, I haven't!"

"Wait, seriously?"

The shock on his face is almost comical, and it takes all your willpower to bite back your grin so he won't think you're messing with him.

"Yeah, seriously."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

Now you do smile. "It's okay. There's no one I'd have rather given my first kiss to," you admit. It's true — it's certainly not for a lack of opportunities that you've never kissed anyone. You simply refuse to get involved with people who only want you for your last name, and ever since you joined the quadrant, you've only had eyes for Garrick, anyway.

"That wasn't a very good kiss, though. Barely even counts as one." He hesitates for a second, then adds, "I could give you a real one if you'd like."

Oh gods. Did he really just offer to kiss you again? For real this time? If this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

You nod — maybe a little too eagerly.

Garrick cups your cheek with one big hand, turning your head a little to get the perfect angle. "Close your eyes," he softly instructs, and then his lips are on yours again, only this time they stay there longer, moving against yours while you kiss back as best as you can.

You don't think about the consequences this might have for your friendship, of how awkward it might make things. All this time you've tried to ignore your feelings, because this is your brother's best friend, because you didn't want to make things weird, because you thought he doesn't see you like that anyway. And now here you are, chasing his lips when he pulls away after a few seconds.

"You liked that, huh?" Garrick teases.

"Maybe," you say, grinning even as all the blood rushes to your face. "But I think I might need another one to be sure."

Shit. You can't believe you actually said that. You're going too far, you're sure of that the moment the words are out.

"Is that so?" Garrick asks. He's still grinning too, but even so it makes you regret asking. You're making things awkward, gods damn it.

"I mean— you don't have to, obviously. If you don't want to—"

He cuts you off. "Shh, just come here."

Just like that, his mouth is on yours once more, and oh, you're definitely getting addicted. This is bad. But it feels so damn good, so right, even more so when his tongue parts your lips to explore the inside of your mouth. All logical thought leaves your head at that point, and if your mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, you would've blurted out your feelings for him then and there.

"I've wanted to do this for longer than you can imagine," Garrick surprises you by saying when you separate again, both a little out of breath.

"You did?"

Now he's the one looking like he regrets saying anything, and a tiny spark of hope blooms in your chest. Could it be? Could he really feel the same?

"Well— I mean... yeah," he says, unusually reluctant. And is that a blush spreading on his face? You think it is, and gods, if that doesn't make you want to kiss him some more.

"Well, I've thought about kissing you for quite some time, too, to be honest," you say.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

For a moment you sit in silence, both processing what the other just revealed. You want to say more, take the chance to tell him you like him, but at the same time you're scared you're reading too much into this. Just because he's been wanting to kiss you doesn't have to mean he has feelings for you too, does it? If he did, surely he would have said something. Though of course you haven't said anything, either. And you're still not sure you should. This could ruin your friendship.

But damn it, you're a rider, not a coward, so you take a deep breath and admit, "Actually, I've kind of had a crush on you for a while now."

You closely watch his reaction, whole body tense with anticipation. Please don't laugh, you pray. Whatever you do, don't laugh at me. On some level, you know that fear is completely unnecessary. Garrick isn't mean like that; if he doesn't feel the same, he'll let you down gently. But part of you still worries he'll find the thought of you crushing on him so ridiculous he won't be able to help laughing. After all, you're his best friend's little sister. Only a year younger, sure, but when you've grown up together, a year can mean a lot. But if that were all he sees you as, he wouldn't be wanting to kiss you, right?

Slowly, a smile spreads over his face, and no, it's not a mean or disbelieving one. It's soft and genuine and takes your breath away.

"I like you too. I just didn't say anything because... you know..."

"Xaden."

He nods. "Xaden. I was going to ask him for permission before asking you out, but I kept putting it off because I wasn't sure how he'd react."

"Well, I don't care what Xaden thinks." That's not entirely true. In fact, you care a lot what your brother thinks, which is one of the reasons you tried to ignore your crush on Garrick. But even if Xaden does have a problem with you being into his best friend — now that you know Garrick feels the same, you're not going to let that get in the way. "He'll just have to deal with it. Now stop worrying about my brother and kiss me again."

Garrick happily complies, and in the end, you're both late for class.

[scorpioriesling]

I (Almost) Don't Believe You

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Brennan x reader

Warnings: mutual pining, tiny mention of injury

Summary: It was already bad enough to find out your father and brother invaded your best friend's privacy; but sending you on a mission where it nearly killed her? Unbelieveable. What else is unbelieveable? The boy you'd fallen for so long ago would only be waiting for you on the other side...

SR’s Note: Um okay, as I am progressing through Iron Flame rn... like, Brennan is... ooh okay I am liking him quite a bit. He's helping ease the pain of loosing Liam (': Jokes, jokes... I don't think I'll ever get over that reality. Enjoy, lovelies.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The hours you'd been counting seemed to blur together as exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders. Was it exhaustion? Maybe it was just guilt. After everything you'd seen and gone through today, differentiating the two was... well, near impossible.

Your dragon has been all but silent, giving you time as thoughts race through your mind. Would your best friend wake up? If she didn't, the male sitting to your left would be all but gone too. A male you've come around to, especially seeing the way your closest friend reacts in his presence.

Gods, you wished for something like that.

Violet stirrs, her brow furrowing and shoulders moving on the cot where she lay. Both you and Xaden lean forward instinctively at the same time, and he huffs a small laugh as he glances sidelong at you. The two of you haven't spoken much since the arrival, and you're sure his mind is racing just as yours is.

"Vi... I hope you wake soon, you have people who've been waiting forever to see you," Xaden whispers. Your heart warms at his words -- long gone is the fearsome Wingleader you'd met only a year ago, and his familiar warmth is graciously returned in Violet's presence. She rolls to her side, eyes squeezing closed as she lets out a wide yawn. Xaden is on his feet in an instant -- you're quick to follow, flanking to her bedside.

"Violet?" You whisper. Xaden extends his hand, brushing hair from her face as she slowly blinks her eyes open. You can practically count the emotions swirling in her green eyes -- the one she registers and lands on quickly though, is confusion.

"Xaden... Y/N..." She pushes to a sitting position, Xaden clutching her shoulders and helping her readjust. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, and looks around the room in confusion.

"Where... what is this?" She asks. Xaden sighs, hanging his head low. Her eyes meet yours in silent question, and you shrug. "Hey, I could ask the same thing. The more important thing right now is that you're awake..." You say.

"Awake and healing quickly," Xaden adds. His fingers have threaded through hers, and her confusion quickly turns to anger.

"Don't... don't think I've forgotten-" She yanks up the side of her shirt, revealing a dull purple bruise on her side. Angry black veins thread from the injury, and her gaze flicks back to Xaden.

"I haven't forgotten." Is all she says, and you feel sorry for Xaden. Sure; you're grateful your spitfire of a best friend is alive and well, but her gaze could cut right through him.

"I know." Is all he says, so hushed that you barely hear it. You nod once, and begin backing away from the bed.

"I'll... leave you guys for a while." You say. Xaden nods, and Violet shoots you a pleading glance. You can see her asking you not to leave her alone with him, but you know they have a lot to talk about.

You decide instead to head down the hallway outside the door, finding a kitchen shortly along your way. If you were going to give your friends space, you might as well do something productive. A million thoughts raced through your mind; where were you? Where were the others? How far from Basgiath were you? Not to mention the millions of thoughts plaguing your brain about your father, your brother; knowing what they were sending not only this section, but their own family into...

You shake your head. Productive. Rifling through the foreign cabinets, you look for something to make.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The afternoon sun is dipped low beyond the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of violet and navy as night falls. It didn't take long for the others to find you -- perhaps it was the smell of the dinner you'd scraped together that drew them in.

The first two days, Garrick or Bodhi were sent out to retrieve food for the group, and you decided by day three that you should lend a hand. After all, you'd been shown many house-chores like this over the years; your father never expected you to become a rider rather than a housewife, that is. Neither did your brother, and you knew he didn't like it one bit.

Your older brother Dain had always been protective over you; but his overprotection only intensified when your best friend's brother died, and he practically treated the two of you as though you were made of glass. When you'd braced the parapet, he looked ready to hurl, never expecting his little sister (or her fearless best friend, for that matter) to dare entering the rider's quadrant.

But, your appreciation for his overprotection died the moment he used his signet to send your section to certain death. Not only did he send you, his only sibling; but the girl he'd oogled over, swore so many times he loved with all of his heart, right along with you.

It didn't matter now. Everything was different.

"I don't know how you did it," Garrick smiles, sitting on the bench seat near the small dining table in the kitchen. "But you've got some skill, Y/N. I mean seriously, who scrounges all this up in a place they've never been, and produces such a delicious meal?" He shakes his head, shoveling a huge bite of stew into his mouth. You smile as Imogene makes her way into the space.

"Gods, I could simply kiss you for this," Bodhi follows her in, snatching up a bowl and waiting behind Imogene for his turn to scoop from the pot. You chuckle.

"You mean to tell me that you don't enjoy going out and hoping to return with food for us all?" You raise an eyebrow playfully, and before he can answer, Violet enters the kitchen. You instinctively make your way to her, and her pained smile emerges as she pulls you in for a light hug.

"How are you feeling?" Imogene chides, perching in a chair across from Garrick and looking Violet over. You let go of her, and she glances around to everyone.

"I'm... I'll be alright." She says, and you nod. Her eyes meet yours, and she quickly whispers, "We need to talk."

Your eyes widen, and you glance to the stove where the awaiting pot sits. "Violet, you haven't eaten in days-"

"It can wait." She rushes, taking hold of your wrist and all but dragging you into the hallway and out of earshot from the others. You glance around, and she sighs.

"Violet, I know you have questions; I mean, so do I, but-"

"Brennan is alive." She stares straight into your eyes, and a wave of adrenaline rushes over you at her words.

"Violet, what are you-"

"He's alive. He's here. Brennan. He's..." She fumbles, her hands clasping and releasing frantically. You place a hand on her shoulder lightly. "He's alive, Y/N." She says in finality. You shake your head, a small smile appearing on your lips.

"Violet, you might be thinking some wild things, they did give you a lot of medicine-" She grasps both of your shoulders with her hands, holding tight and giving you an incredulous look.

"Would I lie about something like this?" She whisper shouts. You furrow your brows at her.

"No! Gods no, I don't think you're lying, I just..." You shrug defeatedly. "He's been dead for six years, Vi. The last time we spoke of him..." Your throat tightens at the memory. "His soul was being condemned to Malek." The way the fire sparked as his belongings were thrown in. The way Violet cried for weeks, you sleeping in her room with her for sheer comfort. The way your heart tightened every time you thought of the way he used to look at you; his soft voice, so contrasted against his mother's uniformed nature. The way he'd lend you his books, sitting and talking with you for hours on end...

"Fine. Go see for yourself." She gestures down the hallway, the countless doors fading to dark as it stretched on. "Fifth door on the left. He's probably still in there." She says. You sigh, looking to her once more.

"Violet-"

"I'm going in to eat." She walks through the kitchen entryway once more, leaving you alone in the hallway. You sigh, wiping your clammy hands on your pants. You head down the hallway, counting the doors as you go. One, two, three... four...

You stood, face-to-face with the fifth wooden door, the only sound this far down the hall was your ragged breaths. You swallowed, raking your fingers through your hair as you remembered you'd been wearing the same, disgusting leathers for three days. If he really was on the other side of this door, you hated that the first thing he'd see of you in six years was... well, not your favorite look.

You knock softly, and the door creaks open. You hastily shove it open, breath catching as you peered around the room. The empty room, that is. Moving inside, you took in various things; tons of papers, many books, quills and ink pots upon the desk-

Your breath catches in your throat as you spot a tome that you'd recognized. It was one Brennan gave to you all those years ago, when you were nothing but a teenager with a crush. Your heart still fluttered at the feeling, the ache in your heart as fresh as it was the day he died.

You huff, not sure why you expected anything but this. VIolet was on many remedies, and there was no world in which a man that had died would come back to life, no matter how convincing your best friend sounded.

A small knock sounds on the door behind you, and your head whips around from the papers you'd begun staring at. Your heart immediately seizes as your eyes meet those familiar brown irises you'd longed for, for so, so long.

"Y/N?" Brennan whispers, and you can't help the immediate sting of tears behind your pupils as you look him up and down. It felt surreal; his cream-colored button down is only buttoned up half way; his fitted trousers outlining every muscle along his masculine legs. Your hand flies to your mouth as you gasp, the words choked behind a sob rising in your throat.

"Brennan?" You stutter, and his eyes widen as he immediately surpasses the door way. You don't stop yourself from stepping quickly toward him, throwing your arms around his neck as a soft cry escapes your lips. He was real. He was really real, he had to be. The ends of his brown curls, longer now than when you'd seen him last, tickle your forarms as you pull him close. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, lifting you on to your tip toes as he stands at his full height.

You can't contain the tears flowing from your eyes as you breathe him in deep; his familiar scent of cedar and cotton bringing you back to all of those special moments you'd shared before; sitting close, sharing stories and thoughts. All of those almosts.

Before he …died, anyway.

You pull back to look up at him, but he doesn't release you. Instead, his fingers card through your hair, stroking lovingly as he continues his embrace. You shake slightly, allowing every emotion taking over your mind to run free. You never thought you'd see, feel him again. All of your greif receeding as you accept the reality that you had only ever dreamed of.

"Y/N I'm... I'm so sorry." He whispers. You cry harder, only wishing he'd keep talking and convincing you this was real. But, you forced yourself to believe it was; the boy you loved, now in front of you once more, holding you, physically touching you-

"Gods, I missed you so much." You retreated from his hold, his hands still braced on your hips as your watery eyes bore into his. Taking him in, you realized he was different. Older. No more was the boy you'd been in love with six years ago; now before you, was a man. A handsome one, nonetheless.

"I... I don't..." you stutter, and a small smile braces his lips as his soft hands brush the few stray tears from your cheeks. "I... I don't know what to say." You admit, and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone.

"Well... at least you're saying something," he says, chuckling softly. The sound is like music to your ears, a sound you hadn't heard in so long. "I was afraid Violet would shread me with one of her daggers when I tried talking to her." You swallow, your gaze drifting to his mouth as he spoke.

"I... I don't say I could blame her," you say softly, your eyes reconnecting with his as shame takes over his expression once more. He sighs, the hands on your waist falling as he takes a step back. You immediately wish he wouldn't have, already hoping to be back in his embrace as soon as you could.

"Look, Y/N, I..." his eyes peer at the wall above you, as he seems to contemplate his words. "I never meant to hurt anyone, alright? I had to do it because-" You step forward, taking his hand in yours. You stare up at him longingly, shaking your head that this was all truly real.

"You can explain it all later," you say, and his mouth closes. You can't help but take in the familiar slant of his nose, his more defined jawline, the golden planes of his skin...

"You can't keep staring at me like that, Aetos." His voice has dropped so low it’s almost gravelly, as his gaze darkens upon glancing toward your mouth. You grin, your deft fingers unlacing his and moving to slide thorugh the mass of curls on his head softly.

"I'm just... I'm really, really happy you're okay." You whisper. His hands slide around you, finding purchase along the small of your back. You suck in a breath as he pulls you against him once more, and you spot the tears pooling along his waterline at your words.

"I thought you'd hate me," he whispers, his breath a gentle caress down the slope of your nose. His perfect lips, ones you'd pined over for years were so, so close. So... real. His chest lets out uneven breaths pushed up against yours, and your nerves threaten to eat you alive as you raise to your tippy toes once more to be eye-level with him.

"I don't think I could ever hate you, Brennan." He smiles, the motion only growing as your eyes search his once more. His perfect teeth are still the same; the sparkle in his eye, the way he chuckles softly. It's as if you're transported back in time.

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did the last day I saw you." A single tear slips, and your quick to catch it with your finger. As you retract your hand, his fingers are quick to curl around yours, holding your hands against his heart. Your brows knit in confusion as you lower your heels, but his grasp on you does not falter.

"You're..." you start. His hand caresses your cheek, guiding you as close to his lips as you could get without touching. Your heartbeat races as his thumb traces soft circles on the back of your hand pressed to his heart. His heartbeat picks up at the closeness, and you can't help but smile. Whether its anxiety, fear, pure love... you've never been quite the expert at sorting out your feelings anyway.

"I'm …what?" He whispers, and you can't stand it any longer. You lean up, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips. He stills, and you pull back, eyes as wide as his in shock.

"I'm so sorry, I-" He tugs you close again, your mouth colliding with his as he kisses you more forcefully. He keeps kissing you, both of his hands now cupping your face as yours grab onto the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. His lips part, allowing you access at your own pace; but you're quick to oblige, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip. A soft groan escapes his throat, and you inhale through your nose sharply at the sound. He's definitely more grown up than he was six years ago; more confident too. Gone was the shy, 19 year old who’d been deemed “too old” for you back then — now, he didn’t seem to mind the 5 year age gap now that you’d finally turned 20.

You continue indulging, before the strike of the clock from the hallway sounds. He doesn't seem to care as he explores your mouth; hands continuing their exploration, too. As the quiet overtakes the room once more, you finally pull back, gasping for air as he smirks down at you.

"I've waited… so long for that," he says, and your face heats. Little does he know, so have you. “Not coming back to find you, tell you I was alright was so hard, Y/N.” He leans back in for more, but you turn so his lips connect with your cheek instead.

"Oh, nuh uh," you hum. "You've got some explaining to do first before any of..." you motion between the two of you. "...this, continues." He rolls his eyes (glad to know he hasn't changed all that much), and backs up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay, okay." He says. "I have to be in a meeting, uh..." He glances quickly at his watch. Your eyes track the movement; wishing his delicious fingers were holding you close again. "Uh, now, actually." He laughs sheepishly.

"Better get to it, then." You fold your arms over your chest, tilting your chin up in mock confidence. His hand slides along your jaw one more time, and he gazes down into your eyes.

"Later, we'll talk. I promise," he says. You continue your confident expression as his hand retreats, and he heads for the door, leaving it open behind him. You wait a few seconds before you follow behind him, but freeze as you enter the hallway and are met with a familiar stare you've come to know all too well. Leaning against the wall is your best friend, a smirk so similar to her brothers plastered on her face as she pins you with an accusatory look.

"I told you he'd be in there."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[pvrkacciosan]

Teeth and Tongues

Summary: After a confrontation with the cadet that landed you in the infirmary weeks ago, her word igniting an anger in you, you prove to yourself the weight of your relationship with Bodhi with more than just words.

Pairing: Bodhi Duran x Marked Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ , !NSFW!, explicit smut scenes, swearing, oral male and female receiving, Unedited part.

A.n: All plot ends here. Hope this makes up for the long wait between these parts. With a sappy ending.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (Final Part)

☽⋆❈⋆☾

Cassandra continued to stare down at you along the bulbous ridge of her nose, her eyes narrowing to a sharp glare.

"Watch where you're going, marked-" her mouth fell open to finish her sentence, until she glanced around at the tables of cadets that had silence their own conversations to listen in on their interaction, All well aware of the fight between the two of you that landed you in the infirmary.

"It really must be uncomfortable for you to have such a self righteous stick up your arse Cassandra." Keeping your words soft and expression even softer as Cassandra turns back, you watched as her expression turned sour to glare at you once more, ignoring the attention of the other cadets.

"At least I don't have to lower my self worth to fuck in a storage closet." You stilled, Cassandra pouted in mock thought, "Or are you that ashamed of sweet Bodhi you won't allow him to show his affections publicly." At the insinuation you couldn't help the rising anger, the liquid fire of the blood in your veins, the unbridled anger as she pouts with mockery

She leaned an inch closer, "I will admit, I certainly would let him do wonders to me, I'm sure I could treat him way better" Cassandra tilted her head closer to keep her voice hushed, "It's a shame he is also damned with the rest of you marked bastards."

As she leaned back, a laugh brushing through her parting lips all your rising anger threw itself at your resolve, she darted her eyes to Bodhi across the hall, "Perhaps I might just see if I can pleasure him better then you, seeing as he only cares enough to fuck you in closets." As Cassandra walked back, triumphantly smiling to herself, Your resolve finally snapped, the tensioned wire of you anger taking full control.

It only took one calculated fast swing to down her, perhaps she hadn't been expecting you to react in the hall full of witnesses but you couldn't give two flying fucks, The crack of your fist against the side of her face was the greatest satisfaction in that moment.

Even as Asra roared in delight through your bond. Triumph thumping from her end. Pride.

Lunging to follow Cassandra's form as it crumpled to the floor of the cadet filled hall, you pinned her beneath you with a knee to her sternum and swung again, and again as the commotion resounded through the hall, drawing all eyes in the direction to the fight, Cadets standing from their tables to watch the scene unfold. Wing leaders jumping to attention as squads leaders ran from every corner of the hall, to break up the fight.

"Y/N!" You register Bodhi yelling, but continued to only see red and your fist yet again collided with Cassandra's cheek as two pairs of hands grab for you,

You fight against them, jerking a shoulder forward to throw a final punch, when that doesn't work you kick out, it lands into her stomach, a whoosh of air exploding from Cassandra.

"Y/n" Bodhi is closer now, the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear, as he continues to pull you back, Xaden positioning himself between you and Cassandra.

Bodhi tightens his arms around your waist, lifting you further back.

"Crazy bitch" Cassandra spat blood onto the ground of the hall as she rose,

You try to lunge from Bodhi's grip, he holds firm, "Y/n" he tried to keep his voice soft, "My love" the name struck something inside you, turning in his arms, you can't ignore how delicately he says it, the way he watches you with such pride and admiration and a hint of desire, the heat of it in his stare is almost overwhelming, it warms you core reigniting the need for him in one second.

There is a soft huff of amusement from Cassandra, turning to meet her with a glare you notice the way she looks Bodhi up and down, noting his hands still encircled around your waist.

It's the only prompt you need, Turning back around in his grip, you clasp the side of his jaw and lean in quickly, thankful he doesn't shy away as you kiss him fully.

His fist balls the fabric of your flight jacket, tugging you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. Tilting your head, Bodhi matches the movement with ease, until someone behind you clears their throat.

Breaking away, Garrick gives you both a pointed look as he turns to glare at any cadet who contemplated making a comment at the public display.

"Bodhi, get her out of here." Xaden commands from your other side, as Cassandra jumps up, spying the blood trickling from her nose and bruising already beginning to bloom across the swelling ball of her cheek you can't help but smirk in ascendancy.

"She started it! She attacked me, She needs to be punished" Cassandra cried out, glancing around and pathetically taking hold of her bruising face,

"And she will." His voice racks your neck,

Even as Cassandra continued to be a distraction you can't ignore the way Bodhi's hand tighten against you waist, perhaps in promise of said punishment, The notion makes your stomach twist in anticipation. Reaching back to clasp one of his hands. He takes it gently into his own,

"Bodhi." Xaden outright ignores Cassandra's pleads, twisting his attention to his cousin, Taking the que Bodhi tugs you with his hold on your hand. Pushing you to walk in front of him, leading out the hall.

Once out of the view, you pull your hand from his and begin walking faster through hallways,

"Y/n" Bodhi begins to hurry after you, concern laced in his tone. When you didn't respond, he continued to follow without question, noting the passages you took, Bodhi simply allows you to lead him to his own room.

You swung the door open, waltzing through the wards of his room with ease, the warmth coating your skin as you passed the threshold. As soon as Bodhi followed over you pivoted, barely giving him enough time to swing the door shut.

He held your gaze intently as you approached, he hands rising to embrace your sides, a grip slipping around your back, the edge of a finger brushing the smalls of your back as he teased the edge of your flight jacket up across the expanse of your bare skin still yearning for his touch since leaving the supply closet..

Leaning with the encouragement of his hold, you press forwards, and Bodhi allows himself to be pushed back into his door, watching you with hooded eyes, that hazed with desire as he smirked,

"Looks like my training has done you well." Bodhi doesn't even try to hide his amusement,

"You think?" You muse, titling you head back to maintain the heat of his attention. He tugs you sharply by his hold on your waist, closing the space between you, the bone of his pelvis hitting the edges of your own. The friction of your body against his growing erection has Bodhi bristling, his nostrils flaring wide.

He releases one hand to reach for you jaw, a finger uncurling to caress the line of the bone, "I would say so. Though I much prefer watching you beat the shit out of someone that isn't me"

He leans closer, his thumb lifting your head, tilting his own so his lips a line to the rim of your own until you felt the heat of his breath, "I'm sure you'd love to watch me do other things to you."

His eyes widen a fraction as they darken, sharply inhaling you rise up and kiss him, snaking a hand up his arm. Allowing it to rest at the back of his neck to support and control.

Bodhi was first to escalate further, quickly drawing his kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, allowing you to arch into his chest, his hold on your back molding you to his centre of gravity.

His teeth grate against the pulse there, jackhammering your heart harder, faster, as small pants escape you.

Rising your hands, between you and undoing the top of your flight leathers you loosen them before latching you fixation on releasing Bodhi from his own. Finger shaking as he bites the skin covering your collar bone,

"Bodhi-"

His hand clenches at your lower back at the sound of his name falling from your strangled moan, He begins to walk you both back, towards his bed, unmade covers sprawled in every direction, you stumbled on one underfoot as you move blindly backwards, Bodhi wraps his full arm around you now, hoisting you up to prevent you both from falling. Lowering you to the bed now, he begins to unbuckle the top of the leathers straining around the growing bulge,

Freeing his erection, a sound escapes him at the accidental friction as you crawl closer, reaching the end of the bed.

You stretch for him, Bodhi grabs your wrist gently halting before you touch him.

His brow knits together, "What are you.."

"Let me," You ease his hand from off your wrist and push up off the mattress, standing to push him to sit on your previous position on the edge of his bed,

Bodhi watched you slowly slip the remainder of your clothing from your body, its dropped around our ankles, stepping out you kick away the leathers.

Taking half a step you position yourself to stand between his knees, Bodhi watches as you raise a hand, running it along his jaw and curling around the back of his head, gripping a fistful of hair to lean his head back.

Kissing once more you lower until you other hand can slip to cup him gentle. Bodhi retract from your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as he shakily nods to you for permission,

Lowering to kneel at the end of the bed, you kiss down his torso, hand smoothing down the sides of his cock which stiffens further under your touch. Thumb rubbing along the pulsing vein and smoothing over the angry red tip, the bead of liquid warming your touch.

Bodhi's chest rises and falls deeply under you mouth, each kiss igniting a fiery trail that traced lower and lower, exhaling harshly to control his impulse to move into your touch. Lowering to press sloppy kisses to his hips, You drawn lines with your lips, a dot to dot across his v-line.

"My love, your teasing is torture." His words are strained through gritted teeth as the muscles in his legs tense under the soft touch, Bodhi tenses as you cup his balls, so tight he flinches from sheer sensitivity to the soft touches. Cupping them a little more forcefully Bodhi goes to fall back onto the mattress.

You dig your nails into his thigh above his knee, to grapple his attention to you kneeling for him, "I want you to watch me. Crumble for me as you almost did when I kicked Cassandra's ass. "

His hips twitch up as you wrap a hand around his cock, and he struggles to keep his head up. Bracing his forearms along the bed behind him for support, Bodhi offers a shaky nod, Watching carefully as you lower yourself to him.

Unable to stop thinking about Cassandra's words, Like fuck would she ever get the satisfaction of pleasuring Bodhi. You would be better then her in every way.

Flat tongue flicking out to glide down the underside of his cock, You felt Bodhi tension, thighs shaking beside you as you begin to glide along the ridge of the vein, following it like a mapped trail to the base of his cock, sinking down to situate him fully, tip grazing the back of your throat.

Your eyes brimmed with tears, but pulling back you plunged him back in with more ease this time. Cheek hollowing as your tongue flatted against him.

A free hand dragging across the muscle of his thigh until it cups his balls, squeezing lightly, Soft sounds are filling the room as he struggles to keep himself from falling back on the mattress.

The heat of his attention on you, Bodhi's chest rising and falling rapidly as he watched you glide up and down his cock, Fixating on the point which his length disappears from view inside your mouth, the sight is near dizzying as the tension draws like a tight string right through him.

"Y/n" Bodhi choked on your name as you drag your teeth down his length nose brushing his pubic bone, feeling his length twitch in your mouth, He tried to shift, but you held firm against his thighs, until you felt the warmth of him releasing into your throat, Swallowing as much as you can swallowing around the length of him, you finally slip him out from the seal of you mouth, licking the residue from off the tip of his cock, smiling triumphantly as Bodhi finally collapsed back, sweat was gleaming across his sternum, Chest panting rapidly to draw breath.

Easy up from the ground and wiping the trail of evidence from your chin, you meet Bodhi's gaze, its heated and darkness swirls there as he watches your thumb, tracking its movement as it drags to your mouth as you sucked the substance from the pad of your finger.

He shifts onto his arm, pushing up. The muscles of his torso flexing with the calculated movements, Bodhi rights himself up, reaching to clasp your thigh, His palm flattens on your hamstring, tugging behind your knee until your forced to crawl onto the edge of the bed. Blankets padding beneath you,

His hands, tighten and grabs carefully pulling your body to his, Angling his head back so his mouth levels with the round curve of your breasts,

He grates kissed along the bone in your sternum, trailing slowly, his grip pulling you into his mouth.

You can hardly think as he takes a nipple into his mouth, the edge of his teeth catching the sensitive flesh, You gasp rocking forward into him, the flick of his tongue swirling around -

Wrapping a hand behind his neck, you tuck, a scratch, looking for grip as he centred to suck and pull at your nipple. Each tug shooting fire into your belly, deep and rumbling from need.

A pulse building, aching for touch,

Bodhi is smirking as he tilts back, relaxing into the blankets and pillows at the top of the bed, His fingers dig into the hot skin of your waist, a single tug, urging you to follow,

He has eased all the way down onto his back, eye sweeping across every mile of your body that was turning pliant under his touch,

"Sit." His command is followed by another gentle tug, pulling you further up his body, Across that toned torso and higher, "Sit" He urges, both hands now surrounding your thighs and pulling your weight down to his face.

"Bodhi-" You tried to hide the apprehension in your voice, despite the tightening in your stomach, the anticipation making the muscles in your legs shakes as your hover, exposed inches above his face.

He strokes a reassuring circle down your leg, thumb curving around the bone of your knee, "This is one seat that is only made for you, my love"

Lowering down, thighs burning you melt the second his tongue penetrates up into you, A groan vibrating from under, strong and sure Bodhi gets to work.

You can't help the strangled cry, falling forwards to brace against the headboard, "Bodhi" A warning and a prayer.

The power of his name on your lips drives his tongue up into your deeper, building a rhymical pulse in your core with each thrust up. His thumb continuing to delicately stroke your thigh reassuringly.

With each purposeful lap of his tongue, mouth suctioning to your core, You relax rocking your hips in rhythm with each flick, weighing down to chase every dart of his tongue.

Your arms shake as you grip tighter to support, arching to stay stable enough the edges of everything in the room around you blurring, insignificant in every way.

A broad stroke of his tongue, lapping across the clit had you unravelling, completely coming undone over his face.

You could drown in the pleasure as it pulsed in heating waves through you. Every inch intoxicating you movements, it was a struggle to lift yourself on shaking legs, knees holding you up as Bodhi emerged from under you,

He swallows hard, wide eyes meeting your own, His skin was flushed and chest rose and fell quickly. He wraps an arm around you, and you allowed yourself to be flipped onto you back, unable to fight against the manoeuvre, body too dazed to listen to your command.

Reaching up a hand to drag across his chest, the thump of his heart was hammering under your palm,

Bodhi had lowered himself, cocks poised ready at your entrance, hard once more, rigid and posed for action, "Let me fulfill my promise from this morning," his hand falls to guide himself into you,

The stretch is pleasant, the length of him caused you to clench around his cock,

Bodhi groaned, head falling to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his own shaking, the muscles rippling with anticipation.

"Move, " you whisper, a hand ghosting around to rest in his hair, to hold him close. He nods softly, into the crook of your neck hot breath fanning the skin.

His first thrust made you dizzy, it was fast and hard, and the glide out had you whimpering, his hands traced your ribs, knuckles grazing the bones.

He moves again, angling deeper this time, The lines of his cock hitting a spot that had you seeing stars, spinning the edges of the room.

His hips snap to yours, a motion you began to match until his teeth skim your shoulder mouth latching to suck the pliant skin.

Through the haze of your vision you turn to see the sight of his cock plunging into you, the sensation of him dragging out the pleasure inside you was intoxicating, driving himself up hard and faster.

The cardio of being a dragon rider and the associated training really paid off then, Bodhi didn't seem to tire easily, waring you down, your moans spurring him on,

His hand slides down low as his thumb seeks the bundle of nerves, a spark of electricity igniting in your bones as he pressed into it, long a slow circles involuntarily cause you to wither under him.

"Don't stop" you beg as he shifts deeper, cock thrumming in again and again, with the same intensity as his tongue and it was overwhelming, his teeth biting into your shoulder, as you clench.

The muscles in the pit of your stomach spasm, tightening as he slammed into you, Bodhi only emits a small sound, deep in his throat, the only indication he had heard your plea.

His own resolves was growing thin, his cock twitching within you, but Bodhi was tense holding out for you to reach your own climax before he gave way to his own,

A hand slide across your sternum, a hand coming to encircle your nipples, the stimulation of his fingers pinching-tugging.

It threw you into the pounding wall of your pleasure, it tumbled through you, an avalanche of fire pooling low in your gut, the tether coming loose in one quick release.

Clenching down hard around his cock, Bodhi shivered, arm bracing to keep his weight off you as his own release had him pulling out of you, flooding the surface of you stomach as he completely came undone.

The room was silence beyond the sound of you combined breathing, gulping down the oxygen in the shared space between you as the high rocked through you,

Bodhi lifted his head from beside your neck, a startled look in his eyes, a realisation as he savoured the sight of you laying under him, still pulsing with the pressure of his release, cock already tightening for another round at the sight of you there, for him, so willing and ready.

"I think I love you" his words are almost too quiet to hear, his presence filled your entire attention,

"That's your cock speaking" You joke. your words, were taught even if the notion of his affection had something twisting in your chest.

Bodhi smiles softly, more to himself then to your stubbornness, "No, That day when Xaden got you admitted to the infirmary, I realised- "

He pauses, grappling with his words, head still dizzy from his release, "I am only made for one women, this amazing women, who is strong willed, stubborn and my greatest friend. Who I can't imagine my life without, It took me seeing you hurt to realise, I don't want anyone else."

You freeze, all thoughts stilling as Bodhi carefully untangles his arm, and lifts it to gently cradle the side of your face, "The life of a rider is treacherous and sometimes short," His thumb strokes your cheek, still warm,

"And I want to spend that time, however short it may be, with you."

You spurred up, kissing him fully, his hand dragging around to cradle the back of your head, pulling you up as you straddles his lap, hand reaching for his hardened cock.

Whatever time was destined for you both to share, you knew exactly how you wanted to spend it.

. . .

Tagged: @paintedbyshadows @wildflowermooon @kksbookstuff @slaymestark @idkimjusthere100

I thank everyone for their patience and hope this part doesn't disappoint.

[callsign-rogueone]

what was I made for? - g.t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brennan is silent, letting you continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

You sit with the information for a moment.

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

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

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

You aren’t sure.

———————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, you can. You have been for months.

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

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

The sight has you in tears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.

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

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

You nod silently, having run out of tears.

“Attagirl.”

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

———————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhale in relief.

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

You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.

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

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

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

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

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

Empathy.

“Am I dismissed?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

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

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

“Good. I’ve missed this.”

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

“Sure.”  Maybe that will settle your nerves.

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

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

You’re right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.

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

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

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

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

Violet closes the book, setting it down.

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

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

You burn with embarrassment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow that makes you feel worse.

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Fourth Wing Men HCs: nicknames for him

Includes: Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis

A/n: I haven’t wrote some headcannons in a HOT minute, but me and @garricks4thwingqueen have been conspiring and inspired me to take a whack at it again. These got a smidge long, so I will make a part 2 with more characters, and other scenarios, but you know who had to start with! I also included some AI pics I’ve been cooked up that are mashes of my fancasts ideas for the characters. I have the hardest times visualizing a lot of characters and places in stories and sometimes the AIs I’ve seen all look alike or aren’t itching the right part of my brain. Disclaimer: I tried to take into consideration book accuracy, but AI is AI and I only dabble w it on my phone. So I’ll take what I can get. Skin tones, hair, proportions may not be perfect. These just personally help get a better concept, and I find fun to make, and anddd risking forgetting about a free 7 day trail from time to time 🕳️🤸‍♀️ *muah* enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking/smoking (if u squint), suggestive content

Bodhi Durran

Bo/Boh, beau, bowie, Bo Bo, babe, love

Xaden and him are maternal cousins. While the firstborn always had the weight of responsibility growing up being an heir by his parents. The younger cousin was always ‘coddled’ by his. Though he adored his family, he hated how they always doted on him. Mainly because of how much his older cousin and his best friend would tease him about it.

Xaden and Garrick started cooing “Bowie” and “Bo Bo” at him when they were 12, he was 11.

“Bowie, don’t forget to write to me.” “Bowie, be good for your uncle.” “Oh Bo Bo don’t you look so handsome today!” They’d snicker to him under their breaths when he’d arrive at the fortress when his mom would drop him before flying out to an outpost. Watching how his cheeks flushed red, and he had tight balled fists pressed at his sides.

Once the doors closed, after formal introductions with his Uncle and lingering personal staff were done, and once the adults a room away—he would hurl one of his clenched fists at their shoulders.

Starting a playful brawl amongst the three

Spoiler alert: Bo Bo back then lost once or twice…maybe a handful of times

Then as awkward teenagers when problems were simpler the three of the pubescent boys discovered churam and drinking. Bodhi started unironically calling himself Bo Bo and Bowie, mockingly teasing himself as a ‘bit’.

The young men were sat around a fire in the clearing to the outside of Riorson House. Xaden and Garrick in a heated debate over a petty topic. “Bo Bo can’t comprehend what’s going on right now.” He would say, exaggerating and scratching his the top of his head. It had been effective for the most part to ease the tension between his friends

Now from time to time, he’ll still do it especially if you’re present. He always thought you looked cute as you shook your head with a crooked smile spread across your face when he did it

Sometimes fhd guys would find him doing something badass, you’ll hear triumphant whooping from Xaden and Garrick, endearingly using the nicknames they called him as a child

“Go Bowie!” “Bo Bo that was fucking awesome!” “Bowie! Bowie! Bowie!”

But if anyone else besides the select few called him those names, he’d glare daggers at them. Like the time Ridoc tried to call him Bo Bo during lunch while the group was joking around

Bodhi’s boyish grin disappeared instantaneously. “If you ever call me that, I will rip your tongue out.”

The first time he heard you call him Bowie tho, he nearly melted. It was one of the first times you slept over with him and he had to get up early for a leadership meeting

You propped up on elbow, using your other hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Do you have to go, Bowie?” A small pout on your lips watching him get dressed

His other pet names from you were selective, usually just calling him Bo/Boh, but your favorites were Babe and Love

Babe being the one you leaned towards the most

especially when you would catch him doing something ridiculous or he’d press your buttons. Or just when you wanted something

“Babe? Are you kidding me?” “Babe stop!”

“Babe can you get me another drink, please?” You asked, looking up from your lashes with puppy dog eyes. He folded every time no matter if you were closer to the serving station or bar. How could he say no when you gave him that look? Not caring, flipping all his friends off as they’d give him knowing smiles.

He was a simp for you

Love was usually reserved for tender moments with him. When you’d notice he’d be having a bad day, or to calm him down when you’d notice he was fuming silently beside you at something going on

Intertwining your fingers with his giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Love.”

Or holding his cheeks, bringing him to eye level with you. “I’m here, Love. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

Sometimes you broke out the corny double entendre of beau. Very select people would get it, but you thought it was great

Mainly you’d be out to the taverns with your friends when you’d use it. Usually when a girl would approach him, and you’d try to hide your jealousy tho it was plain as day

“He’s actually my beau.” You’d say, a sinisterly sweet smile on your face when a girl tried to introduce herself. Your hand twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. Bodhi would always shiver from the gesture, trying to contain his arousal at your possessiveness

Then later in the night, he’d pin you to the wall of his room. Pressing feverish kisses up the column of your throat. “Are you gonna show me all the way I’m your beau?” He muttered before grazing the delicate skin with his teeth

Garrick Tavis

Gare, Tavis, Gary, Gare Bear, Hon/Honey, Sir

His parents tried to call him Gary at one point growing up, but he always ignored them or begged them not to call him that. It always sounded so stupid to him

Garrick was blunt, dry, and straight to the point not caring for nicknames. Only really preferring to be called by his name or Gare on occasion by his friends and acquaintances. His last name an even better alternative than a nickname

But Xaden, Imogen, and Bodhi took a sick pleasure in all the creative corny nicknames his parents would try to make a thing for him growing up.

“I think we oughta get Gary’s input?” Imogen leaned her chin in her hand as they all discussed weekend plans after school looking over at the towering young man. The side of her mouth crookedly lilting upward, knowing she struck a nerve. Garrick could already feel his eye twitch, clenching his quill as he acted like he hadn’t heard them a few feet away at the table in the library.

“It seems Gare Bear’s not in the mood today.” Xaden would casually lean back in his chair, smirking, and watching his best friend stroll into the dining room late for dinner time after a terrible day

Which would result in Garrick walking by, and tipping his chair back causing the Riorson to flail and fall backwards. “Relax asshole,” Xaden hissed, rubbing his head.

To this day they still called him the silly names. Taking immense pride when you had picked up on the memo, and started to call Garrick the names he despised. Especially because you two weren’t each others favorite people at first

The first time it happened, it was when Garrick pissed you off. He had been criticizing all your sparring movements, and you had enough. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Gare Bear.” You’d sneer, watching the irritation form on his face.

“Do not call me that.” He’d glower, but you’d just smile brightly. “Whatever you say…Gare Bear.”

Seeing how it got under his skin, from that moment on you’d always call him just to pester him. Enjoying the glare he’d shoot your way or awaiting for whatever witty remark he’d reply

Eventually once you two started getting along, you called him his first name, being more considerate towards his feelings. Garrick’s chest filling with disappointment as he awaited the usual Gare Bear falling from your pretty lips.

“Hey Garrick,” it was a rare moment when you found him by himself. None of your mutual friends around for once, and one of the first interactions you had alone. “What?” He looked up from what he doing. “I said hey?” You gave him a weird look. “But you called me Garrick.” He said in disbelief. “That’s your name isn’t it?” “You always call me Gare Bear tho.”

That’s when you realized he secretly liked it despite him trying to act annoyed at you.

Then when you had officially started dating, he had to get used to fact you loved calling him all these terms of endearment. Deep down, loving how you could make him become bashful by your words

“Here you go, Honey.” Leaning down, kissing his cheek, setting down a dish of apple crisp in front of him. You knew how much he liked the dessert and grabbed an extra one when getting your dinner. Garrick’s cheeks tinged red and chuckled appreciatively, “you’re the best.” His friends just silently stared as if you two had three heads. “What’s the matter?” You asked the group unphased, taking a seat. “You broke him.” Imogen replied in awe.

You had changed his perception on being called nicknames. Even letting it slide when his friends poked fun at him with the once despicable nicknames

Out of all the nicknames you called him, his favorite by far was the one you’d use in the bedroom.

“Please,” you begged, while sitting on your knees. “Please what?” Garrick gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You gulped, “please Sir.” A cruel smirk on his face, pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑇𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

His girl

Silent worry

We're in this together

Christmas lights

No longer yours to keep (part II)

Dragon weeks

Scream it why don't you

My terror

Cupid

When?

Constellations

Little sister

Hurt

For what it’s worth (brother Garrick)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[angstywaifu]

Fourth Wing Boys Head Cannons - Accidental/Unplanned Pregnancy

These are based around the battle at the end of Iron Flame. So if you have not read Iron Flame, the below will contain spoilers for some of our boys.

Masterlist | Support Me

Garrick

He would be as still as a statue. You aren’t even sure he’s even breathing as he looks down at you wide eyed. You were both on the tonic, but clearly there must have been a faulty batch. The healers were adamant. You were pregnant.

After a few moments he’d snap out of it, brow furrowing as he thinks everything over in his head. “Are you sure? Did you get-“ you cut him off with a nod, which is all he needs to shut his mouth and nod.

You could tell what he was thinking. This was no time to be having a child. Not in the midst of a rebellion. Not a rebellion you both had prominent parts in. Not when Xaden needed him.

After a few tense moments of Garrick being stoney faced and reserved, a small smile would start to pull at the corners of his mouth. Which honestly surprised you. Before you Garrick wasn’t really the relationship kind of guy. You even falling into that category a few times till another rider had showed interest after you were both sent to Samara.

“Really picked the perfect time to fall pregnant didn’t you?” He teases before to swat his arm, his usual booming laugh breaking through the tension that was now nowhere to be seen.

Despite the teasing joke you could tell he was nervous, worried and unsure. Especially as he pulls you against him, resting his head atop yours as it rests against his chest. His heart beating erratically underneath, a start contrast to calm demeanour he was trying to output.

Bodhi

He drops whatever he was holding, staring at you with shock as he goes utterly still. Wide eyed, mouth open as he just looks at you.

He goes to talk multiple times but keeps shutting his mouth, clearly unsure what to say. Eventually starting to pace back and forth till you grasp his hand.

His eyes snap to yours, some of the panic dissipating ever so slightly as he relaxes at your touch, the small circles you rub onto the back of his hand with your thumb grounding him.

His free hand comes up to run through his black wavy hair. “You’re sure? Like 100% sure?” He asks nervously.

You nod up at him, his eyes going wide again, but you note the corners of his mouth pulling up. You know the nervousness and panic comes from the rebellion. It’s not ideal timing. But now there’s not much you can do.

Panic flares again in Bodhi’s eyes, his hand tightening around yours. “Xaden’s going to kill me”

Xaden

it’s not often you see Xaden caught out or surprised. In fact you can’t remember ever seeing him like that. And yet here he is, staring at you, still as a statue. Not a single emotion or reaction detectable on his face. Almost like he was expecting the news.

“Fuck.” He finally says before walking over to you, his eyes glued on your stomach which currently shows no signs of the baby inside.

You can see him thinking over everything in his head. Every possibility and scenario playing out.

“You have to promise to not be reckless anymore. I can’t risk loosing you two. Ok?” His words coming out almost like a command, but there’s that slight hint of worry that softens his words. You know he just wants to protect you, and that you’ll definitely be tacking a back seat going forward.

Brennan

He pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back and forth as he mutters to himself. It reminds you so much of Violet and how she recites facts to calm herself and focus.

Back and forth, back and forth, you’re sure he’s going to wear a track in the floor at this rate. You reach out and grab his hand to stop him.

His amber eyes instantly soften as he looks at you. “I was doing the thing, wasn’t I?” He asks as he purses his lips, knowing he slipped into planning mode. You nod at him and smile. “Yeah, you kinda did.”

He smiles down at you, and instantly you feel like everything is going to be ok. Is it good timing? Gods no. Especially with the Venin advancing on Navarre. And especially now they know Brennan is alive.

“We’ll make it work. We always do.” He tells you softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek.

Dain

This man is in denial. How could this happen? You were both on the tonic. And that tonic has never failed. Every logical situation runs through his head. There’s no way this could have happened. Unless….

“Did you stop taking the tonic?” He asks, tones almost accusing as he walks up to you, a hand raised towards your face. He lowers it wicking when he sees the anger on your face, answering his question immediately.

He would be spiraling. In a matter of weeks he’s gone from being the golden child, helping to get rid of the marked ones. And now here he was in Aretia, fighting against everything he’s always known, and now you’re pregnant.

He reaches out and takes your hands, grasping them in his as he lets out a shaky breath. “Really took disappointing my dad to a whole new level didn’t I?”

Sawyer

He would be shocked, looking at you like he doesn’t believe you. Like the words didn’t just leave your lips. But they did. You were pregnant with his child.

Despite the seriousness of the situation you were all in he would embrace you immediately.

“You’re not mad?” You ask him as he pulls away. “Gods no. Is it terrible timing? Probably, but we’ll make it work.”

Which feels like it won’t as you sit next to his bed, his leg now missing as you grip onto his hand like a lifeline. Everyone else had gone, leaving just you with him. None of them aware of what was looming over you.

He lightly squeezes your hand, your eyes snapping to his as he lazily smiles at you. You engulf him in a hug, completely forgetting about his injury. You start sobbing all the thoughts tumbling around your head. Sawyer just embraces you tighter, whispering you’ll make it work. It has to. Especially with the ring he wears on a chain around his neck. Waiting for the perfect moment.

Ridoc

He literally thinks you’re joking, trying to pull some prank on him like he does to literally everyone else. But once he sees the way you’re looking at him he goes silent. Ridoc who is never silent. And yet here you are taking the words right out of his mouth.

“Holy shit you’re not joking are you?” He finally asks you. When you shake your head at him he gets so excited.

It might not be the best time with everything going on, but he’s too excited to care right now.

He runs out the door to find Sawyer screaming “I’m going to be a dad!”

So much for keeping that quiet. The whole of Aretia knows with how louds he’s yelling and screaming.

[soulofapatrick]

Always Her - Garrick Tavis x female reader 

Summary: You're sick of Garrick always choosing Violet over you because Xaden says so

Warnings: angst

Words: 2K

Notes: I hope this does the request sent justice and sorry for ant typos this hasn't been proof read

Y/N’s POV

The hallways are eerily quiet as I make my way back toward the Riders’ dorms, the cold stone walls amplifying the echo of my footsteps. Shadows pool in the corners, stretching long and heavy under the faint glow of mage lights. My stomach twists as I think of the untouched meal sitting on the table in my room. It’s gone cold by now, the once-perfect plans I had for Garrick and me unraveling yet again.

He didn’t show up.

Again.

I tell myself not to be surprised. I knew this would happen. Garrick has been distant for weeks now, and every time I try to reach him, to pull him back into us, he slips further away. Still, it doesn’t stop the simmering frustration from clawing up my spine as I round the corner.

That’s when I see him.

He’s sitting on the stone floor outside Violet’s door, his broad shoulders leaning against the wall. His arms rest casually on his bent knees, but I know better. His head is tilted back just enough to suggest he’s relaxed, but the tension radiating off him tells another story. He’s on high alert even now. Watching. Guarding. Protecting.

Always her.

My steps falter, anger sparking like a match struck too close to dry kindling. I pause for a moment, staring at him in disbelief, before the sharp echo of my footsteps announces my approach. His head snaps toward me, his dark eyes narrowing at the sound. At first, his expression is unreadable, that cool, professional mask he wears so well. But the second he catches sight of my face—stormy, unyielding—his shoulders tighten.

He knows.

He knows he’s in trouble.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” My voice is sharper than I intend as I stop in front of him, my arms crossing over my chest.

His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “Forgot what?”

The audacity.

“Are you serious, Garrick?” I snap, my voice rising. “The meal we planned! Weeks ago. You swore—swore—you’d make time for us, but here you are. Again. Camped outside Violet’s room like some guard dog.”

His jaw tightens as he pushes to his feet, the movement slow and deliberate. He towers over me, his height imposing in the dim corridor, but I don’t back down.

“I’m following orders,” he says evenly, though the edge in his voice betrays his irritation. “Xaden asked me to—”

“I don’t care what Xaden asked you to do!” I cut him off, my voice breaking with frustration. The words spill out faster than I can stop them, raw and unfiltered. “You’re so focused on her that you don’t even see what you’re doing to me! To us!”

“This isn’t about you,” he says firmly, his hands flexing at his sides like he’s trying to rein himself in.

I laugh, bitter and sharp, the sound echoing between us like a slap. “Isn’t it? Because it sure as hell feels like it’s about me when I’m constantly being pushed aside. Do you even realise how much you’ve been ignoring me? Or is Violet’s safety just more important than the promises you made to me?”

His eyes darken, frustration flashing like lightning across his face. “This is bigger than you and me,” he says, his voice rising slightly. “Violet’s not safe. Not after what happened to Liam. She needs someone looking out for her.”

“And that someone has to be you?” I step closer, my voice trembling with barely-contained anger. “Every second of every day? She’s not a helpless child, Garrick. She doesn’t need you to hold her hand and tuck her in at night!”

“You don’t understand,” he growls, his composure slipping.

“No, I do understand,” I snap, my fists clenching at my sides. “You think it’s your duty to carry everyone else’s burdens, to play the hero, and you don’t care who you hurt in the process. But guess what? I’m done being an afterthought. I’m done being the one left behind while you break every promise you’ve made to me.”

The air between us feels like it might shatter under the weight of my words. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but no sound comes out. For a moment, the only thing I can hear is my own ragged breathing.

I shake my head, my chest aching from the effort of holding back tears. “Forget it,” I whisper, the words hollow and final. Turning on my heel, I force my legs to move before he can stop me.

“Y/N,” Garrick calls after me, his voice rough and pleading.

I falter for the briefest of moments, but I don’t stop. Not this time.

Let him sit with the emptiness I’ve felt for weeks. Let him wonder what it means to be left behind.

By the time I reach my room, my vision blurs with tears. The weight in my chest feels unbearable, pressing down on me until I can barely breathe. I slam the door behind me, the sound echoing in the hollow silence, and collapse onto the floor. My hands shake as they press against my face, desperate to contain the flood of sobs I’ve been holding back for far too long. But the dam breaks anyway.

The tears come in heavy, wracking waves, each one a testament to the hurt and frustration that’s been building inside me. I clutch my knees to my chest, feeling as though the walls are closing in.

I don’t know how long I sit there, trembling and broken, before there’s a hesitant knock at the door. The sound barely registers through the storm of my emotions. I don’t answer. I can’t.

The knock comes again, softer this time, but I remain frozen. A moment later, the door creaks open. My heart stutters, but I keep my face buried in my hands. I don’t need to look to know who it is—I can feel his presence like a pulse in the air.

“Y/N.” Garrick’s voice is low and raw, his tone steeped in regret. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t respond. The effort to speak feels insurmountable. Instead, I stay hunched over, my shoulders shaking with the force of my grief.

He steps inside, his movements careful, almost hesitant. The door clicks shut behind him, sealing us in the same space, though the chasm between us feels immeasurable.

Garrick kneels in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. His hands hover in the air, uncertain. “I screwed up,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did.”

His words hit a nerve, but I keep my head down, my tears falling freely.

“I’ve been so focused on protecting Violet,” he continues, each word weighted with guilt. “So caught up in trying to do the right thing for everyone else, that I stopped seeing what it was costing me. What it was costing us. And I hate that I’ve made you feel this way.”

His words are a balm and a fresh wound all at once. They dig deep, unearthing the raw ache inside me. “Do you even care, Garrick?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Or am I just… another thing on your list of priorities?”

He inhales sharply, his hands finally settling gently on mine. His touch is warm, grounding, but it’s not enough to ease the ache in my chest.

“I care,” he says firmly, his voice steady despite the crack I can hear beneath it. “More than anything. You’re not just a priority—you’re everything to me. And I hate that I’ve made you feel otherwise.”

I lift my head then, my tear-streaked face meeting his. His storm-gray eyes are wide, almost frantic, as though he’s afraid I might disappear right in front of him.

“You can’t just say that, Garrick,” I choke out, my throat raw. “You have to prove it. I can’t keep doing this if I’m always going to come second.”

“I will prove it,” he says, his gaze unwavering. His fingers tighten around mine, a silent plea. “I’ll make this right. I don’t know how yet, but I will. I can’t lose you, Y/N. Not over this.”

The desperation in his voice gives me pause. I search his face, trying to decipher the truth in his words. His usual stoic mask is gone, replaced by an unguarded vulnerability that cuts through my defences.

“Okay,” I whisper after what feels like an eternity. “But this is your last chance, Garrick. Don’t make me regret it.”

Relief floods his expression, and before I can say anything else, he pulls me into his arms. His embrace is fierce, almost crushing, like he’s afraid I’ll slip through his fingers. I let him hold me, my cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t care,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “Because I do, Y/N. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

I pull back just enough to meet his gaze again, my hands still clutching the front of his shirt. His eyes are searching mine, filled with something raw and desperate, something that looks like it’s tearing him apart.

“Then why do you make it so damn hard to believe that?” I ask, my voice soft but no less cutting.

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks away, as if he can’t bear the weight of my stare. “Because I don’t know how to balance it all,” he admits, his voice heavy with self-loathing. “I’ve always been the one who follows orders, who puts the mission first. And now… now I’m trying to figure out how to be the guy who puts you first, too. But I’m screwing it up.”

“You are,” I say bluntly, though there’s no venom in my voice anymore. “And it’s not just about Violet or Xaden. It’s about you deciding that what I need isn’t as important as what everyone else needs. That’s what hurts the most, Garrick. Feeling like I’m not worth the effort.”

His throat works as he swallows hard, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You’re right,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me. But if you’ll let me, I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the most important thing in my world.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. My walls begin to crumble, brick by fragile brick, as I let myself hope.

“Words are easy, Garrick,” I say, my voice trembling. “Actions are harder. And I need to see that you mean it. I need more than promises right now.”

“I know,” he says, his hands cupping my face with a tenderness that steals my breath. “I’ll show you. I swear I’ll show you.”

Before I can respond, he leans in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s desperate and raw, filled with all the things he’s been unable to say. For a moment, I freeze, overwhelmed by the intensity of it. But then I melt into him, my hands fisting his shirt as I pour everything I’m feeling—hurt, love, anger, and hope—into that one moment.

When we finally break apart, we’re both gasping for air, our foreheads resting together.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

My heart stutters, and for a moment, I can’t speak. But then I let out a shaky breath, a small, tentative smile tugging at my lips. “I love you too, Garrick,” I whisper. “But you need to stop breaking my heart.”

“I will,” he promises, his lips brushing softly against my forehead. “I’ll prove it to you. Every day. For as long as you’ll let me.”

For the first time in a long time, I feel something like hope flicker to life in my chest. It’s fragile, uncertain, but it’s there.

And for now, that’s enough.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[nomie-11]

Liam Mairi x Reader - Not Just a Flirt

masterlist!

The clash of swords reverberated through the training gym as Y/n expertly dodged another one of Liam’s swings, a smile on her face as she dipped out of the way before his sword could make contact with hers. 

“Nice swing,” She grinned, sweat glistening on her skin as she lunged forward, swinging her sword down to his right where he met it with a parry. “But not enough to hit me.” 

“Don’t get too cocky, Y/n,” Liam warned with a mischievous grin, easily sidestepping her attack. “You know, I’ve been holding back just to see how long it takes for you to start talking more than swinging.” 

Y/n laughed, her breath quickening as she spun, bringing her sword up to block his next attack. “I’d say you’ve been holding back since the first time we spared. What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll outclass you?” 

Liam’s grin widened, his blue eyes gleaming. “I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.” 

“Oh really?” she teased, her eyes flashing with challenge. She squng again, this time aiming for his midsection, but he parried and countered with a swipe that just barely grazed her side. 

“Close,” he said, voice low, as his blade hovered near her, but not quite touching. “But still not enough to take me down.” 

Y/n’s heart beat faster than she’d expected, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. They’d been sparring like this for weeks now—lighthearted, playful, filled with banter—but lately, the tension had been building between them, crackling in the air like electricity. 

She stepped back, wiping sweat from her brow, a knowing smirk crossing her face. “I don’t know, Liam. It’s like you’re getting slower with each round. Maybe I’m just that good.” 

Liam raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes. “Are you sure it’s me slowing down, or are you just catching up?” 

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in mock concentration. “Could be both, but I’m willing to bet I’m getting the better of you.” 

His grin softened, and for a moment, Y/n caught a glimpse of something else in his gaze. There was admiration in the way he watched her, a depth to his attention that made her stomach flutter unexpectedly. 

“Maybe you are,” he said, his voice quieter now, as if the teasing had dropped away entirely. “Maybe you’ve always been better than me, but I wasn’t willing to admit it.”

Y/n blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in tone. She tried to play it off with a laugh, but there was an underlying current now—something real. Something that had grown between them over time, hiding behind their banter, beneath their playful rivalry. 

She raised her sword again, a grin tugging at her lips. “Is that so? Well, guess I’ll just have to keep proving it, won’t I?” 

Before she could strike, Liam stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single fluid movement. His hand shot out to catch her wrist mid-swing, stopping her cold. His chest was so close to hers, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek, and for a second, neither of them moved. 

“Liam—” she started, but his hand gently but firmly pulled hers down, his touch lingering longer than necessary. 

He looked down at her hand, then back up into her eyes. “I think we both know what’s going on here, Y/n.” 

Her heart pounded in her chest. “And what exactly is that?’ 

Liam’s gaze softened, his expression unusually serious as his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. “This—us—this flirting, this… banter… it’s not just that anymore, is it?” 

Y/n’s breath hitched in her throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He stepped even closer—if that was even possible—his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I think you do.” 

For a long, lingering moment, she couldn’t speak, his words echoing in her mind. Was it really just playful teasing anymore? Or was it somehting else? Something… deeper?

She swallowed hard, her heart thundering as she slowly realized what had been building between them. She didn’t have to say it out loud; the understanding passed between them in a single, undeniable glance. 

“I think… maybe you’re right,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a breath. 

A slow smile spread across Liam’s face—the same stupid, cocky smile she was used to— and he leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over her lips. “Aren’t I always right?”

Before she could even retort, he closed the space between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was gentle at first, tentative, like testing the waters. But as soon as Y/n kissed him back, it deepend, the weight of everything they hadn’t said falling into the kiss. 

The sword in her hand dropped to the floor with a quiet clang, forgotten in the heat of the moment as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands came to rest on the small of her back, the playful flirting they’d shared over the weeks finally transforming into something real. 

When they pulled apart, breathless, Y/n smiled up at him, her voice teasing again. “I guess I’ll let you off easy for being right this time.” 

Liam laughed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Only because I’ve been waiting long enough to hear you admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything,” she grinned, stepping out of his embrace, but her hand dropped to linger on his broad chest for just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’m still better than you, Liam.” 

He raised an eyebrow, a spark of challenge in his eyes again. “Are you sure about that?” 

Y/n giggled, feeling the warmth of his presence still linger in the air between them. “Maybe not. But I’m definitely catching up, I’ll be better than you with just a little bit more practice.” 

“Is that so?” Liam smirked, his tone teasing once more. “We’ll have to work on that, won’t we?” 

And just like that, the playful banter returned, but there was something different now—something deeper, something they both knew had shifted for good. 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml , @acourtofsmutandstarlight , @kylaisra

[writinginatree]

The Taste of Home

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis & Riorson!reader, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: When the first snow falls in Aretia, that means it's time for baking cookies, building a blanket fort, and lots of playfulness.

Warnings: Swearing, one tiny injury, the reader is implied to be on the smaller side physically and kind of a brat (sorry, I just got very self-indulgent with this 😅)

A/N: Since I mostly only bake recipes in my first language I'm not that familiar with English baking terminology, so please feel free to correct me if anything doesn't make sense the way I phrased it!

It's 4:32 in the morning when you burst into Bodhi's room — and that's entirely his own fault for not locking the door. He jolts awake, immediately reaching for a dagger as you jump onto his bed, excitedly whispering, "Wake up, it's snowing!"

With an exasperated groan, your cousin drops his weapon and sinks back into the pillows. "It's the middle of the fucking night, bubs."

"No, it's not," you insist, shaking him slightly. "You have to get up in an hour or two anyway. And it's snowing! You hear me? It's finally snowing enough to not immediately melt away again!"

Bodhi tugs on his covers, trying to pull them over his head, but he can't with you sitting on top of him. "Mhh, I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "Now can I please go back to sleep?"

"No."

"Don't be a fucking brat." He's trying to sound strict and commanding, but he's still sleepy and it sounds more like a whine than anything else. "Can't you go bother someone else with your snow?"

You know you kind of are being a brat, but that's never stopped you before, so why should it now? Fully yanking the covers from his grasp, you pout down at him. "Nope. No way am I entering Xaden's room uninvited. I really, really don't want to know what him and Violet are doing in there."

"Probably sleeping, like any sane person," Bodhi grumbles. "What about Garrick? I'm sure he'd love to be woken up just because it snowed."

"Better not..." Unlike Bodhi, Garrick would certainly win a tug of war for the covers. "You're awake anyway now, so you might as well do me the favor and get up," you reason. "Please!"

Bodhi makes another attempt to get his comforter back. "Why do you even want me to get up? It's still dark and it's cold. You can stay here if you just let me sleep some more, how about that?"

For a moment, you consider it, always tempted by the prospect of cuddles. But there's a fresh layer of snow waiting outside, glittering in the fading moonlight and just about begging you to be the first to leave your footprints in it.

"Nope. Get up, we're building a snowman."

Knowing when it's time to give up, Bodhi stops fighting and drops his hands. "Ugh, fine. Get off me, then."

"Can we bake cookies today?" you ask Xaden later that morning, coming up behind him in the line for breakfast and jumping onto his back.

"I have to—" he starts, shaking his head, but you interrupt him. Whatever oh so important stuff he thinks he has to get done today, it can't possibly be more important than cookies.

"Nuh-uh. Fuck that. You can take a break from all your big bad responsibilities."

"You do remember we're at war, right?" He shakes you off, turning to lift a brow at you.

"War can wait!"

"That's not how that works."

"You're not going to bring on the end of the world by taking a day off, Xaden. Give yourself a break. You deserve it."

"You know how useless it is to argue with her about when to bake," Bodhi comes to your aid. "If there's snow, there have to be cookies, too. And she's right, you really fucking deserve a day off."

Xaden scowls, but you can tell how much he wants to give in. "Teaming up on me now, are you?"

"We always baked cookies as soon as it properly snowed," you insist, barely stopping yourself from stomping your foot like an angry toddler. "It's bad enough that we couldn't do it the last six years, but now we're finally home, so we have to do it again! Please!"

Xaden looks between you and Bodhi, both giving him the same pleading look, sighs and raises his palms in defeat. "Fine. But only if Violet can join, too."

"Of course." You grin, throwing yourself at him in a hug. "Thank you! I'll tell Garrick."

Xaden grabs you by the back of your shirt before you can run off. "Breakfast first, though. Let's just meet in the kitchen in about an hour, okay?"

You agree, and leave them standing there when Xaden lets go of you.

"—dragged me out of bed to play in the snow at five this morning," Bodhi is complaining when he walks into the kitchen with Xaden, Garrick and Violet an hour later, but the smile he can't quite hide gives away that he didn't mind it nearly as much as he's pretending.

You've already prepared the dough for one of the recipes you plan on making while you waited for them. Wiping your hands on your apron, you turn to face them, hands on your hips. "You guys are late."

"Looks like you're doing just fine without us," Xaden remarks with a pointed look at the ball of dough before you.

"Yeah, well, as you should know, this has to be in the cold for at least an hour or two before we can roll it out and cut the cookies without it crumbling," you say and open the window, placing the dough outside on the snow-dusted windowsill. "Let's make the white almond ones in the meantime, yeah?"

Bodhi scrunches his face in thought. "Almond ones? What almond ones?"

"I think she means those ugly cloud looking blobs that fall apart when you bite into them," Garrick says.

"Ohh, fuck yeah! I love those," Bodhi agrees, reaching for one of the aprons hanging on hooks in the corner. "Let's go!"

You nod, but before you can get started, the others need aprons too. Garrick and Violet obediently put on the ones you hand them, but a certain someone decides to be difficult.

Folding his arms across his chest, your brother glares down at the brightly striped fabric you hold out to him. "I don't take orders from first-years. And I'm definitely not wearing a fucking apron."

"Yes, you are. If you don't, you can get right the fuck out, and if you don't help, you won't get any cookies, either."

Xaden might be in charge on the battlefield, but in the kitchen, you are the boss. He knows it, too, snatching the apron from your hand and tying it around his waist while grumbling something about you being a brat under his breath. Everyone seems to agree on that today, but as long as they do what you want, that's fine with you.

You grab a fresh bowl and instruct Bodhi to hand you four eggs while Garrick searches for the whisk.

"Did everyone wash their hands?" Violet makes sure, and you all nod.

"Okay, so what's first?" Bodhi asks, placing the eggs on the counter before you.

"First someone has to separate four eggs for me."

"Still haven't learned how to do it?" Xaden teases, cracking an egg as Garrick takes another to do the same.

"I have, actually," you inform him. "It's just that you're better at it."

"Are we? Or do you just not like having sticky hands from the eggs running over them?"

"Both." You shrug with an unapologetic grin. "You can put the yolks aside, we only need the whites for this."

"What do we do with them?"

"Beat until very stiff, and slowly add in the sugar," you reply, taking the whisk and getting started once all four egg whites are in the bowl. Needless to say, your enthusiasm doesn't last long. "My arm hurts."

"Seriously?" Xaden laughs. "You're a bonded rider, strongest of your year, yet you still can't whisk a bunch of eggwhites?"

"I didn't say I can't. I just said my arm is tired. If you don't want to help me, I'm perfectly capable of finishing this on my own."

"Just give it here," Xaden says, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he takes the bowl from you and continues whisking with an efficiency you can only envy. Soon the eggs turn into a fluffy foam, and you slowly add in the sugar while Xaden keeps mixing.

"Okay, now to carefully fold the almond slivers into the mass."

You take that task upon yourself, Violet slowly adding in the almonds for you while Xaden prepares the baking tray and grabs some teaspoons with which to transfer the mass.

The three of you scoop it onto the baking tray in small piles, while Bodhi goes poking at the dough on the windowsill. "Should we start rolling this out while you get those into the oven?"

"You can check if it's cold enough, but it's probably still too soft." Garrick opens his mouth, and you whirl around to point your spoon at him. "Don't you dare make a dick joke," you warn.

"I'd never!"

"Then what were you going to say, huh?"

Garrick clears his throat and looks away, damning himself with his lack of answer.

You nod. "That's what I thought. Close the window, Bodhi, there's no point cutting those yet if we have to wait until these are done to put them in the oven, anyway."

While you place the baking tray in the oven, Xaden offers the batter rests to Violet behind your back — predictable, but still disappointing.

You jump to their side. "Let me too!"

Xaden rolls his eyes, and Violet laughs. "Don't worry, there's enough for all of us. We could've probably gotten a couple more cookies out of this."

"Probably, but we've earned a treat."

"I thought the cookies are going to be our treat?"

"Well, yeah. But we also deserve a treat now."

"So, how long do these have to be in the oven?" Garrick asks.

"About an hour."

"Great, and what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Wait for them to be done?"

"I'm not going to sit here doing nothing for an hour!"

"We could have a snowball fight," you suggest.

"Absolutely not," Xaden immediately shuts you down. "The cookies would be ashes by the time we make it back inside."

"Let's play memory," Bodhi suggests. "You still have one somewhere, don't you?"

"More like half a dozen of 'em," Xaden scoffs under his breath.

"Yeah, I think so," you reply.

Since Xaden isn't entirely wrong about a snowball fight taking too long, you go with Bodhi's idea. Five minutes of digging through a sideboard you haven't touched since your return to Aretia turns up a whole pile of old board and card games, Bodhi's favorite memory among them.

"Xaden, you keep an eye on the time," you order, laying out the cards under the boys' watchful gazes. It may have been years since you've played any games together, but apparently they remember all to well how much you used to cheat at most of them.

"Always me," your brother complains, but dutifully takes out his pocket watch.

It doesn't take long until you regret that you didn't even try to cheat. You'd never had to, always the champion when it came to memory. But then of course, you'd never played it with Violet before. She's crazy good at this. While you have a meager three pairs so far, she is collecting pair after pair, her stack of cards already bigger than all of your and the boys' put together.

Twice she wins, leaving you in second place. You're about to demand you play another round, but the time is up, and Xaden drags you to your feet.

"Stop sulking and come take the cookies from the oven."

"Fine, but I want a rematch later," you insist, still pouting a little as you follow him to the kitchen.

Violet offers you a smile. "Sure. We can play as many rounds as you want."

"Oh, you'll regret that," Xaden laughs. "She'll keep you up till morning, or until you let her win."

You gasp. "Let me win?! No, no, no. Don't you dare!"

Violet laughs, putting her hands up. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on it."

The almond meringues turn out perfect, and after everyone tries one and the rest are put away, you start on the butter cookies. By now, the dough is perfectly chilled, and Xaden easily rolls it out as thin as possible.

There's only one problem.

"Where the fuck are our cookie cutters?!"

"They're not in the drawer," Bodhi reports, shrugging apologetically when your glare darkens even more at his words.

You look from him to Xaden to Garrick, skipping over Violet, since she certainly had nothing to do with this. "Okay, which of you idiots—"

"Oh, no," Xaden interrupts you. "Don't blame this on us. As you said yourself, you're the one in charge of the kitchen, and you were the last one to put them away before the apostasy."

"Yeah, well, I definitely put them in the drawer where they belong, so—"

You stop short as Violet takes a small tin box from one of the cabinets, holding it out to you so you can see inside. "Are these the cookie cutters we're looking for?"

"Yes!" You beam at her, grateful she had the sense to just search while you others stood and argued. Then your face darkens again as you realize none of you would've put them into that particular cabinet, with the fancy tea service of all things. Which means— "Someone used our cookie cutters while we were gone."

"Apparently." Bodhi shrugs. "So what?"

"Those are ours!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, baby. And they're all still here, so it's not a big deal. Now do you want to throw a tantrum or are we going to make cookies?"

Thus made aware of how childish you're being, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down and mutter, "Make cookies."

Bodhi nods. "Thought so. Come on then, you can cut the first one."

You don't have to be told twice, deciding on the star-shaped one. The others grab cutters too, and soon the first tray of cookies is in the oven.

"When we were kids we did this every winter," you tell Violet, grinning at the memory as you work side by side, filling a second tray. "It was a whole tradition, with Garrick coming over for the weekend and the four of us building a pillow fort in Xaden's room and sleeping there in a huge pile of fluffy blankets and cookie crumbs."

"Sounds fun."

"It was. Is. I think we're too big for the pillow fort part, though." When Bodhi gasps and stares at you as if you just declared the end of the world, you amend, "Well, at least Xaden and Garrick are. I guess we could make one without them and put a sign in the entrance that says 'no giants allowed' or something."

"Excuse you?!" Xaden crosses his arms, glaring down at you. "No way you're building a blanket fort without us."

"It's not my fault you'd bring the whole thing crashing down!"

"We wouldn't!"

"Sure you would!"

"We'll just have to make it a big pillow fort," Bodhi tries to dissolve the argument. "Then we can all fit inside."

"But a big pillow fort isn't as cozy as a small one!"

"If we use enough blankets and pillows it will be," Garrick insists, adding, "Now stop being a brat and take those cookies from the oven before they burn."

You pivot to look into the oven, and sure enough the first batch is already a little darker than the soft golden shade they're supposed to turn. Cursing Garrick for not taking them out himself upon seeing this, and muttering about how he isn't the boss of you, you hurriedly rescue the poor cookies.

The rest turn out better, and time seems to fly until all that's left to do is decorate them.

"Don't you think that's a bit too much chocolate?" Violet asks, looking over your shoulder as you melt it on the stove.

"Probably," you admit, "but better too much than too little."

"Especially since more of it will end up in two certain someones' stomachs instead of on the cookies," Garrick laughs.

Bodhi nods, adding, "Between Xaden and Y/N, getting rid of leftover chocolate definitely won't be an issue."

"Oh, shut up, Bodhi, you're no better!"

When your cousin tries to object to that accusation, you grab another cookie and shove it in his mouth. It earns you a kick against your shin, but at least you get the last word.

Not that him and Garrick were wrong, exactly, you silently admit as you catch yourself licking chocolate from your fingers for the umpteenth time a little later. But it's hardly your fault that decorating always makes such a mess, and covering everything in chocolate-fingerprints would be worse.

And there! A whole spoonful of chocolate glazing disappears into Bodhi's mouth, hypocrite that he is! Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow at him, but he just grins and shrugs.

You blow a raspberry at him, and focus back on the cookie you're decorating.

"We should have dinner and finish this later," Garrick suggests when about half the cookies are decorated.

You blink at him, taking another cookie and slowly shoving the whole thing into your mouth while staring him down from your seat on the counter.

He blows out an exasperated breath. "No, Y/N, we can't have only cookies for dinner."

You share a look with your brother.

"I mean, we could," he says slowly, like he's only just realizing it. "Who's going to stop us?"

"Common sense?" Violet suggests, but judging by the way she's eyeing the fresh cookies, you doubt it'd take much to convince her.

"We already had nothing but cookies for lunch," Garrick gripes. "I need some real food!"

"He's not wrong," Bodhi admits.

Violet also nods, giving Xaden an apologetic smile. "I could use a proper meal too."

Xaden looks at you. "Guess we're overruled."

"Fiiine," you sigh. "Let's eat some real food."

After your dinner break, it takes another hour to finish decorating the cookies, and by the time you've cleaned up, it's full night outside.

"Okay, so are we serious about doing the sleepover, too?" Garrick asks.

"Of course! Right, Xay?"

He shrugs, pretending nonchalance, but you know him too well to fall for that. He loves the blanket fort part of this tradition. "If you insist."

Damn right you do. Someone has to, after all, and if everyone else is too used to playing the responsible adult, well, you have no problem being the childish one and forcing happiness upon them.

The others agree too, and Bodhi slaps his hands. "Okay, let's go then."

"Wait, but we're not done," you hold them back. "I want to make those nougat thingies too!"

"Those aren't cookies," Bodhi says.

"I don't care what they are, I want them."

Xaden ruffles your hair. "We'll make them tomorrow, okay? It's late, and we still have to put up the pillow fort."

"And don't forget that you wanted to play another round of memory," Garrick reminds you, "though why you would want to torture yourself like that is beyond me."

You reluctantly give in, since you know Xaden likes the nougat treats just as much as you do, and will probably keep word about making them tomorrow. It really has gotten late, you realize, yawning wide around another cookie.

Bodhi is already piling more onto a plate to take up to Xaden's room for later, along with a teapot full of hot chocolate.

"Okay, everyone get all the blankets and pillows you have and bring them to Xaden's room." Pointing at Violet and Xaden you add, "You take the cookies and hot chocolate, but leave some for us!"

No sooner said than done, you're all gathered in Xaden's room a few minutes later, a huge pile of blankets and pillows dumped onto his bed. You stand around it in a rough circle, staring at your building material in thoughtful silence.

"Sooo... How did this work again?" Garrick finally says.

Xaden scratches his head, then slowly walks to his desk and takes the chair, moving it so it's a few steps away from the desk. "We definitely need this over here to hold up the blankets."

"I think we always used to tuck one side of the top blanket into the armoire," you say, "and then tie the other end to the chair, right?"

Bodhi nods. "And then we drape another one across from the desk and also tie it to the chair."

"Okay, let's try that and then go from there," Xaden decides. "Just keep in mind that it has to be bigger than it used to."

"Yeah, yeah. We know."

After forty minutes, two failed attempts and half a dozen arguments about the correct layout of a pillow fort, you're finally finished, and this time, it's sturdy and big enough that everyone is satisfied with the result.

"Perfect." You spread out on a pile of pillows, admiring your handiwork. "I think this might actually be the best blanket fort we've ever built."

Xaden nods, but then nudges you with his foot before you can get truly comfortable. "You have chocolate all over your sleeve, bug. Go get changed before you get everything dirty."

Since pajamas will be much more comfortable anyway, you all head back to your own rooms to get changed, before meeting back in Xaden's room.

"Not a fucking word," you growl after a single look at the barely suppressed grins on the boys' faces upon your entering the room.

"You've had those pajamas since you were, what, ten? And you still have to roll up the pants' legs?" Garrick laughs.

"It's not my fault they made these for fucking spiders or something!"

"Spiders?" Bodhi chokes out, laughing so hard you're sure he'll bring the whole pillow fort crashing down any moment.

Even Xaden is laughing, though he tries to hide his face against Violet's neck. She's chuckling too, but there's a look on her face that tells you that too long pants are an issue she, too, is familiar with.

"Yeah! No one who isn't a spider has legs so abnormally long!"

The boys only laugh harder, and yeah, okay, the spider comparison is ridiculous. Whatever.

Since you're not going to just stand there and let them laugh at you, you grab one of the pillows not yet inside the fort and hurl it straight at Garrick's face. He's the one who started making fun of you, and the only one standing far enough away from the pillow fort that you can be sure you won't accidentally tear it down.

Your aim is true, and Garrick takes a step back with an angry yelp, catching the pillow before it can hit the floor to fire it right back you. You duck beneath it, jumping behind the bed for cover and grabbing the last two pillows left on it.

Garrick ducks into the pillow fort for ammunition of his own — a perfect target. One pillow hits his behind just as intended, but the other flies past him, hitting Bodhi instead. Your cousin narrows his eyes at you, picking up the pillow and nodding at Garrick.

They're ganging up on you — and you're out of ammo.

Ducking behind the cover of the bed again proves useless, as they come rushing around it seconds later, both of their arms loaded with pillows they start firing at you as soon as they're in range.

"Xay, help!" you squeal, picking up one of the pillows they threw at you to defend yourself as you retreat toward the wall.

Your brother takes his time coming to your rescue, but his picking up a pillow and slowly walking over is enough to draw Garrick's attention away from you. Faced with only Bodhi now, you have room to go into the offense yourself.

"Every time," Xaden grumbles, his shadows saving you from getting hit on the head by a bunch of books a stray pillow knocks from the shelf above you. "They do this every fucking time."

You grin, jumping on top of Bodhi, who has fallen onto Xaden's bed, and think to yourself that that's exactly why you always have these sleepovers in Xaden's room and not yours. He doesn't have nearly as much fragile knickknacks on his shelves as you do.

Bodhi puts his years of sparring experience to use and easily breaks your hold on him, rolling both of you to the side — and right off the bed.

You slam into the floor with a loud thud, the carpet doing nothing to cushion your fall as Bodhi's weight on top of you crushes the air from your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes at the pain shooting through the back of your head.

"Ow," you whimper, the sound embarrassingly high pitched and whiny.

Shadows grab Bodhi by the back of his shirt and lift him off you before he can react as Xaden rushes to your side. You swat his hands away from your head, blink a few times to clear your vision, mumbling that you're fine.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three." You slowly sit up, slowly regaining your composure. "Now get out of my face, I'm fine."

"Let me see your head," Xaden insists. "The way it sounded, you hit it pretty hard."

Since you know the stubborn ass won't back off, you let him inspect the back of your head, waving Bodhi's apology aside. Gods know your roughhousing has lead to this kind of accident often enough over the years that it's no big deal.

"Doesn't look too bad," Xaden decrees. "But you'll probably get quite the bump."

"Told you I'm fine."

"Still, you should probably—"

Spotting a pillow on the floor just inside your reach, you grab it and hurl yourself at Bodhi, ignoring whatever your brother is trying to say.

"Haven't you had enough?" Bodhi asks, struggling to fend you off.

"No."

"—rest." Xaden sighs. "Right. Never mind, then."

You jump to your feet, bumping your brother's shoulder. "Come on, you, me, and Vi against Bodhi and Garrick!"

"Hold up, why should it be three against two in your favor?!" Garrick complains.

"Because Vi and me are small."

Bodhi rolls his eyes. "As if that makes any difference! Everyone against everyone would be fairer!"

"I don't care, I want teams!"

You don't give them the chance to argue any more, throwing one pillow at Garrick and hitting Bodhi over the head with another.

Violet shrugs and joins you, leaving your brother no choice but to go along too.

You're very glad Violet is on your team; her aim is immaculate, every pillow she throws landing right on target — unlike yours, which uselessly smack against the wall half of the time. But you do your part too, keeping hold of your favorite fuzzy pillow and hitting your opponents with it every time they come within your reach.

Finally, Bodhi and Garrick surrender. After moving all the pillows back into the blanket fort, you flop onto them, thoroughly exhausted. The memory rematch will have to wait until morning, you decide. Tired as you are, your chances of beating Violet at it are worse than ever.

"Good night guys," you mumble, feeling one of the others settle down at your side. You don't hear their reply anymore, already drifting off.

When you wake up, your arms have both fallen asleep, trapped underneath yourself and Bodhi respectively. You try to untangle yourself without waking anyone, but Bodhi stirs.

"Not this again, Y/N," he mumbles, clearly remembering your shenanigans from the morning before.

"No, we can sleep some more," you whisper back. "I just have to pee."

Bodhi grunts and rolls over to go back to sleep, leaving you to try and pick your way between the others without stepping on anyone in the dark somehow.

On the way back from the bathroom, you decide to grab a snack while you're up anyway. But as you approach the plate of cookies, a sound coming from its direction has you stopping in your tracks. It almost sounds like... chewing?

Yes, it's definitely chewing. A cookie thief, beating you to your midnight snack.

Tiptoing closer, you try to make out the person's silhouette, but it's too dark. Well, whoever it is, they're in for an unpleasant time if they took the last of the cookies. You're fully awake now and craving sugar, and you absolutely refuse to walk all the way to the kitchen for a cookie.

Your stretched out hand makes contact with someone's head, an annoyed huff their only reaction. Recognizing your brother when your fingers skim the line of his eyebrow-scar, you remove your hand from the proximity of accidentally poking him in the eye and instead feel around for the plate of cookies.

Of course it's Xaden. And of course your approach didn't startle him, what with his shadow powers. He's probably been silently laughing at you the whole time as you clumsily felt your way through the dark. Well, just wait until you get a signet, too. Then you'll show him.

But for now, cookies. You're convinced Xaden is deliberately moving the plate from your reach, otherwise you certainly would've touched it by now. Hearing him bite into another cookie as you still unsuccessfully feel around, you've had enough.

"Share!" you hiss, hand finding his arm and moving along it in hopes of finding the plate, but no luck. His hand is empty.

"The plate's right in front of you," he whispers back, and you swear you can hear him smirking. "Just take one."

"Asshole."

But this time you listen closely to his movements when he takes another cookie, and reaching into that spot, your hand closes around one too. And it's the last one, you realize, sliding your other hand over the plate as you bite into the cookie. It's Xaden's luck he let you have it, otherwise you might've had to draw a dick on his face as revenge while he slept.

Speaking of sleep, you really should go back to bed.

Xaden seems to have had the same thought. His hand brushes over the top of your head as he steps around you, then shadows wind around your arms and guide you back into the pillow fort after him, saving Bodhi from getting your foot in his face and tucking you in as you snuggle into your cousin's side.

[kingdom-of-sins]

hii how do u think the fourth wing boys would react to finding out your dragons are mated? 👀 (pls pls include aaric?)

(I have only read till half of IF so forgive me if something doesn't align with the characters)

Ridoc: You both are first year and this guy has been flirting with you from the moment he saw you cross the parapet. You were a challenge to him and you enjoyed the game as well. You both made a bet that if both of you survive thrashing and bond with dragons there will be some serious celebration which will not involve any clothes. Imagine Ridoc surprised, happy, horny, confused at the same time. That's how he was when you both found out your dragons are mates, and the celebration certainly happened sooner because both your dragons started "celebrating" as well. Ridoc is especially happy about the connection he has with you now...sending "wild" thoughts in the middle of a series class or the continuous mental fighting. He also pouted an entire day when he realized you successfully learned to shield your mind and used it against him, but luckily for him he knows how to get your shield down. Ridoc is also very grateful that his dragon prefers to stay with his mate all the time.

Liam: Okay for this I have an entire scenario in my head. You as the daughter of the king but you hid your identity well and no one in that death hole war college knows who you really are, except for violet. You and Liam have fought each other during training, obviously Liam always winning and ending up on top of you. The subtle flirting and caring could almost go unnoticed, but still enough to make both your hearts crave something more. But you know you have to stay away from the marked ones and can't develop feelings for any of them, maybe that's why you sometimes act rude towards him just when things start to get a little more than a mere friendship. After the threshing, Liam immediately figured out that both your dragons are mate (Xaden helped him). But you couldn't figure out what's going on, and let's just say your dragon has a mischievous side and is enjoying your confusion and frustration. Liam's has suddenly developed an urge to be with you all the time (not really, he felt this way before but the dragons gave him a good reason now). Because of the bond Liam soon found out your true identity, maybe he read your mind or his dragon told him because your dragon can't keep a single secret from his mate. Out of loyalty Liam told Xaden and it became a whole mess. A big fight happen between you and Liam and at that moment both your dragons thought it would be funny to hook up. So all that emotions let to angry hate sex with you and Liam. A marked one and the princess. The hate sex didn't last long and it soon turned into something more passionate and emotional. The next day Liam happily sat next to his dragon as he watch you scold your dragon for getting horny at the worst time possible. You still have a lot to get used to but you don't regret your time with Liam. Liam thinks its the best thing that has happened to him.

Imagine Liam using his signet to watch you when you are a little bit far away. Imagine his love sick smile and everyone is like "what's he smiling about?"

Bodhi: You being a first year and Bodhi a third year. Bodhi was not expecting you to bond with his dragon's mate, especially when everyone knows your dragon has an attitude and is very picky. Bodhi was literally going "no no no" when he was observing the thrashing and his dragon is like "my mate choose well, she is pretty and strong". Up until then Bodhi never really care about you but now suddenly there is this big twist. Imagine you are one of those people who thinks that rules should always be followed, it certainly doesn't work when Bodhi is literally part of the rebellion. So what does Bodhi do? Get you in trouble first which could get you kicked out or worse, and then tell you that your dragons are mates. It's the only idea he can come up with in short time to protect the rebellion and to make sure you don't do blabbing away, not that you were ever going to because even though you follow rules you know what is wrong and what is right. Your dragon doesn't like Bodhi much but tolerate him because of his mate. Bodhi's dragon however adore you. When your dragon started mating you stay away far away from Bodhi, maybe even seek the comfort of another and lets just say Bodhi has a hard time hiding his jealousy, especially when his own dragon is also jealous on his behalf

Garrick: "I am fucked" That's the words that came out of Garrick's mouth when he realized you bonded with his dragon's mate. And why he reacted that way? Because you two hooked up shortly after you started your first year and he ended things because you caught feelings and he didn't, at least that's what he believe. Now it didn't take you long to move on (that's what he believes) but he is certain that this new change between you two will make everything more complicated. Garrick trying to explain you the enter thing, mated dragons, him and you never going to happen and all that. He was kind of disappointed when you only replied "cool". He can hear his dragon laughing with its mate about the entire situation. The fact that you are so chill about all this made him even more frustrated and he just keeps lying to himself that the frustration is because your dragons are about to "mate" again, and you are like "then why am i not feeling it?" and just walk away. You will be in hell before you let yourself catch feeling again, and Garrick is terribly regretting not giving you his heart when you first confessed. "I am fucked", and his dragon is like "yes you are and me and my mate are enjoying this". The direct mental link is another thing that has disrupted his entire life when you just simply indifferent to him and flirt and hook up with others. And when you learned to shield your mind Garrick was losing it. He can't even imagine not able to have the constant connection with you, but of course he tried his best to hide it

Dain: Yeah this guy felt like he lost all control when you bonded with his dragon's mate. "is that even possible?" he is in complete disbelief. But he immediately, like second later after the thrashing, got extra protective. Maybe you two knew each other from childhood, maybe you two were friends, or maybe you were never able to tolerate him. But now your life is tied to him in the most annoying dramatic way. Instead of trying to teach you to protect yourself and fight Dain is like "maybe you and your dragon should sit this one out", and like hell you are going to listen to him. It's an endless cycle of you getting on Dain's nerve and Dani getting on your nerves while both your dragons are hopelessly cheesy romantic. But like imagine Dain slowly realizing he can't always ask you to step back and not like you ever listen so he trains you. You are not happy but accept his offer. "but if you touch me without gloves i will chop you hands into tiny tiny pieces, fry them in hot oil and feed it to my dragon." Dain just roll his eyes and is like "do you always have to be so violent?"

Aaric: His real identity was revealed to you the day you bonded with your dragon. Aaric was somewhat chill about it but he had to calm you down because you are one of the marked ones and he is the king's son. There may have been some hurtful words from you side but he is just calm and let you work you emotions out. And then came the mind talking thing. "get out of my head" "i didn't even realize i was in...okay okay, i am getting out...i think we are never getting out of this." It's almost unbelievable how fast your friendship developed after this. Sure there is always something more than friendship between you two but you both have mission but Aaric always tell you "I think you will be happier with someone else" and it always confuses you because you have no idea what his signet is

Jack FUCKING Barlowe: Okay but imagine his dragon choose him because you bonded with your dragon first and his dragon is somewhat unhealthily attached to your dragon, just like Jack has an unhealthy infatuation with you. It's not a typical mate thing but there is something and its kind of scary. The type of scary that you always feel in you bones but it send chills but also a strange comfort of knowing he wont hurt you. Jack was grinning like a maniac when he realized his dragon is your dragon's "mate". Since that moment onwards your mind was never safe and you were never alone.

I didn't add Xaden because we already know how he reacts and I don't think i can write something different for him