#garrick tavis fanfic

[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon

My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.

Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!

The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.

As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.

At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.

The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.

Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.

He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.

‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.” Cedri states.

‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’

You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.

The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.

It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.

“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?

He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.

You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”

“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”

You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”

Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.

“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”

And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.

As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.

You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.

Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?

‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.

‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.

The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.

“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”

“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”

“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.

‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’

‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’

‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’

‘I would never expect anything less.’

You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

Would anyone be interested in a fanfic about an arranged marriage between Xaden and Violet where Tyrrendor wins the Battle of Aretia, Xaden is the crown prince, and Violet is taken by Fen after the war to ensure Navarre doesn’t step over the line? And Violet is raised alongside Liam and Sloane? And Liam doesn’t die? And Xaden is certified simp but Violet hates him because she’s being forced into a marriage without her consent? And there’s a very big secret about Violet only Fen knows about? 👀👀

“Our armies in Aretia have fallen, your highness.”

King Tauri rose from his throne in a swift movement. His hands gripped the fine clothes he wore as he cursed.

“Where is General Sorrengail?” He asked. He looked out of breath, even though he had barely moved.

“She’s returning to Navarre, with her husband,” he hesitated. “They… Fen Riorson—” Tauri growled at the mention of that name. “He… he has taken Sorrengail’s youngest, Violet, as hostage.”

“What?” he all but screamed. It couldn’t be… Could he know about what Violet truly was?

“He said she will stay in Aretia with them, to ensure you respect his demands as the new king of Tyrrendor.”

“For how long?” he asked.

[pvrkacciosan]

Breaks and Bruises

Summary: During a lesson on hand to hand combat, the reader receives a little more of a kicking than she bargained for, Bodhi is pissed to find her injured, having not admitted feeling for her he struggles to grasp with his panic for her safety.

Pairing : Bodhi Durran X Fem!Reader

Word count: unchecked.

Warning : swearing, angst, Bodhi losing his shit at Xaden, suggestive content towards the end, sexual tension,

Part 2

☽⋆❈⋆☾

You stood watching from the side, the mats in the middle of the room filled with bodies that danced around one another, matching hit for hit.

Xaden Riorson circled around the room, he was your Wingleader and one of the few third years present right now as almost the whole of second and first years were here sparring one another. Un unorthodox training session he had planned.

You observed from beside another group of first years all of you picking up ever snippet of information you could from the second years that fought before you.

Fighting stances, patterns, strikes. The older students did well, their bodies toned to become weapons bred for war.

You could be like that too, if you actually practised. The clipped tone of your dragon, Asralethia sided into your thoughts.

You should have put your shields up against Asra as Bodhi has taught you, but watching the other students bodies move in tandem to one another was a dance to be observed and respected. One which you just couldn't seem to look away from.

You have known Bodhi for years, and since arriving at Basgiath, bonding with Asra and surviving towards the end of your first year. You had managed to settle back into the relaxed nature of your friendship.

Not that you could just call it that. The older you both seemed to get the more you seemed to notice just how... Well how much you, desire Bodhi to be more then your friend.

Not that those thoughts had ever been shared beyond your own mind. Apprehension always got the better of you.

Perhaps if he-

You're always thinking about this boy, Focus girl. Asra's voice in your head brought you halting back into your own body once more. Present just as the girl in the mat before you flipped her opponent straight onto his back, his chest racked upwards as he tried to gulp air back into his lungs.

Get out of my head. You could sense Asra's snarl of disapproval rippled through the bond you both shared,

Get on one of those mats and I will. Your dragon's words were final and she seemed to build up her side of your shield.

When the guy on the mat at your front slapped a hand onto the padding beneath him, you tried to avoid Xaden's gaze.

He must have noticed you trying to slip away,

"Y/n you're up next, to the mat now"

You cast a scathing look towards him, Bastard. Xaden's answering smirk was an indicator that he knew exactly of your current thoughts. And found amusement within them.

You would have taken the chance to flip him off but the girl on the mat began to bounce on the balls of her feet, preparing herself as she looked you over once.

You didn't know her name, didn't know anything about her beyond her position as a third year, one of the few to attend this sparring today. She had made mince of the second year boy before you.

Stepping closer, you planted a foot into the circle, shifting to keep the space between your bodies for now, anticipating her movement.

When she didn't immediately swing for you, you feigned to the right, it did little more then rendering your own balance off centre.

Eyeballing from the side she waited for you to right yourself before moving, it was a tactic you should have foresaw and would have had you more time to prepare yourself.

Her balled fist collided with the side of her face, knuckles cracking into the bone of your cheek.

With shock you had little time to release yourself when she gripped your shoulders. Holding you in place as she brought her knees driving upwards into the line of your chest.

Even with the blood roaring in your ears you couldn't miss the sound of the surrounding group when they hissed in unison of your legs giving out under you. The collapse jolting you to your very senses.

Tensing the muscles in your legs, lower back and ass you spun on the mat using your opposite foot to push. Kicking for the girls feet.

Your shin connected with her calf, sending her to back flat land harshly against the surface of the mat. The air whoosing from her lungs with audible affect.

You danced away from her frame, the edge of the padding stopping you from backing up any further, you couldn't be pushed off. It never looked good, for anyone.

Xaden was circling the mats, keeping a close eye on where the two of you were sparring. The girl launched up from the ground, having caught her breath.

You knew she would come at you fast and hard but hadn't expected her to full on tackle you to the ground, trying to dodge it by stepping to the side, you only succeeded in putting yourself in an awkward position. When she collided with you, her shoulder had driven itself directly into your ribs,

Pain bloomed there but you hadn't any time to recover as you both went rolling to the floor.

With the weight of both your bodies you landed hard, the noise seemed to draw in more attention around the room. Other mats slowing to watch as this girl handed your ass to you on a plate.

It was a pathetic attempt to dislodge her from the position she had on you, straddling your torso she pinned your arms down one by one with her knees.

"Marked bastard" she leaned closer to spit the words in your face, her eyes narrowing on the relic swirling around your collar bone that rooted up from your arm.

Desperate to free yourself when she landed the first punch on your face. You could feel the warm rush of blood spilling from beneath the bone of your cheek.

Pushing all the effort you could into willing your muscles to work you drove your heel closer to your ass as much as you could, using the leverage it gave you to thrush your hips upwards.

Her face and upper body came flying towards your own, thrown off her own balance. You heard her curse as she tried to catch herself. Twisting your hips beneath her you used this moment to wiggle out from her grip turning to get upright.

She grabbed for you and despite you launching yourself out the way you felt her hand wrap around your forearm.

She jerked your arm back towards her before sharply twisting it. You screamed out as the muscles stretched to their limit,

Even with him across the room, you watched Xaden spin at the sound, wide steps eating up the space to come back to your mat.

"Cassandra!" His voice boomed but the girl didn't seemed to hear him, instead twisting hard on your arm.

The joint was screaming in protest, you tried to wiggle from her grasp, push against her but even the littlest of movements made you blanch with pain; white hot pain that send your vision rolling.

Somewhere in that time you had begun pleading with her to let go but still she refused to release you, Xaden was nearing the mat now, shadows swirling.

The pain only continues to build, until finally something gave way.

Something in your arm and shoulder ripped free and popped.

Cassandra dropped you in shock as she heard the audible sound that came from your joint, her eyes widening in surprise.

You had begun screaming at the pain that increased ten fold. You were aware of Asra speaking in your head but when you couldn't utter a response her end of the bond fell silent.

You ungracefully landed on the mat, good hand holding your injured shoulder. Breathing was becoming painful as you ribs which were clearly broken ached with even the smallest of movements.

You were struggling to see as the pain took everything, taking over every sense.

You would have cried out in pain when your whole body slumped forwards, giving your consciousness over to darkness.

- �� -

The pain was a dull ache, like a headache building behind your eyes. With the safety of darkness still blanketing your vision you could focus on the pain. Your face, shoulder and ribs, it had slowed the pain not as aggressive. Only when your blood pulsed did you shift in discomfort.

Still with your eyes closed you could only detect the noise of someone else moving when you did, someone sitting beside the bed.

"Y/n?" Heat bloomed in your core, you knew that voice anywhere. Peeling your eyes open and blinking to focus your vision.

Bodhi was up out the chair and beside you in seconds. He went to reach for your hand before stopping himself, expression shifting across the shadows on his face.

"I thought you said you weren't fighting today?" You could detect the concern in his tone, but he hadn't been there. Bodhi was supposed to have other duties to attend to today.

As though he spied your thoughts,

"Asra came to find Cuir when you stopped responding, she was worried about you" his face was clearly saying he too was worried.

He pinned you with his gaze, "What happened? I thought the first years were watching for today sparring tomorrow"

You nodded around the pain in your head that seemed to tether to the top of your spine.

"I thought I was doing alright considering she was third year. And -" you paused remember the words she had spat at you moments before she dislocated your shoulder.

Your hesitation only seemed to snag at Bodhi's attention, he brushed a knuckle across the top of your hand. Warmth coiled on the skin there.

Tell him. The tone of Asra's voice in your head left little room for debate. Even if you could detect the small degree of concern.

"She called me a 'marked bastard' while we were on the mats"

Bodhi sat up a little straighter. Out of many of the marked ones you always tried to be friendly to everyone despite their views on your group. It only seemed to anger him more at the thought.

"Who the fuck even let you on that mat?" He angrily drove his fingers through the dark curls on his hair. You would have got distracted by it if his expression hadn't shifted with utter rage.

"Y/n, who was it?"

The air lodged itself in your throat, you would hate to be the one that caused a fight between the cousins, despite their usual spats of disagreements. With the expression on Bodhi's face you could tell this wouldn't be like their usual arguments.

"Y/n-"

"Xaden."

You could see every inch of Bodhi go stiff. Eyes glazing over in thought, he was communicating with Cuir and you knew it.

Asra, where is Xaden do you know? You hesitantly asked,

The wingleader is on the flight field, she cuts her words off with a little more bite at the mention of Xaden.

Bodhi rose up from the chair and did something he hadn't done since you both were kids, without thinking and leaning closer Bodhi pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Bodhi-" the sudden act, stunned you silent.

"I'll be back shortly" he didn't say anything else before turning and walking out of the room.

You tried to push yourself up off the bed with one arm, but every muscle in your torso and spine rippled and screamed in protest.

Asra can you make sure they don't kill each other?. You let her hear the pleading in your tone.

I will keep your one safe. No promises for the Wing leader. It was clear to see exactly where she now stands with Xaden after he put you on that mat.

You couldn't only hope they didn't kill one another.

- ❈ -

Xaden had been hiding from his cousin on the flight field, he knew where Bodhi stood with his feelings on Y/n and he had no real reason as to why he put her on that mat. It was a mistake he shouldn't have made.

Bodhi was ignoring Cuir's encouragement as he strides onto the flight field passing the group from First Wing.

His tunnel vision was focused on the familiar figure near the centre of the field.

Speeding up his pacing, Bodhi reeled all his emotions as he drove back his arm. Xaden only turned quick enough to catch a quick glance of his cousin's fist before it collided with the side of his jaw.

He was sent rocking back as Bodhi scowled down at his cousin, going to forward another punch Bodhi swore out loud as Garrick intercepted and pulled him back.

"Get off me!" Garrick refused to let off, keeping his grip on Bodhi, the older boy had size on him and Bodhi would be stupid to swing for Garrick just to release himself.

There was a boom as two dragons landed nearby, a green and blue. Cuir and Asra. Y/n was probably keeping tabs by communicating through Asra. The blue watching every movement with a lethal precision.

Bodhi finally lifted both hands, palms wide in surrender. Garrick stalled a second before finally releasing him.

Xaden was rubbing at the bruise already blooming like blood along the bone. He wiggled his jaws, face contorting in discomfort.

Bodhi couldn't bring himself to care if it hurt. Xaden had put you on that mat. Couldn't think beyond the reasoning that you were hurt due to that fact.

"What the fuck Xaden?" He didn't need to elaborate further.

"I have no real reason for putting her on that mat" Xaden's head hung a little,

Bodhi looked ready to swing again, Garrick shuffled on his feet, arms folded across his chest firmly. A muscle built barrier to keep the cousins from ripping into each other.

"That's bullshit" Bodhi wouldn't even attempt to hide the anger in his voice, not when he knew both older boys knew his feelings towards you.

"I'm so-"

Bodhi scoffed shaking his head, "Don't even try to apologise. That girl called Y/n a marked bastard."

Bodhi knew it would anger them as much as it had him. You felt things more deeply then other marked ones, who's brash nature tended to defend themselves against petty name-calling. It always ate away at you.

Bodhi knew he was right as Xaden shifted, dropping his hand away from his face when Garrick shot him a gruff look.

The girl is trying to leave the room.

Bodhi glanced across to watch Cuir, his dragon shifted on her front legs, Asra beside her still watching with eyes narrowing in on Xaden, If Sgaeyl wasn't relaxed in the dried grass meter from Riorson, Bodhi might have expected Asra to bite Xaden's head off his shoulders simply from the way she watched him.

"I have to get back to Y/n." he stalked closer a step, Garrick seemed to let him take those inches closer,

"I don't care if you're my family or a Wingleader, You ever pull that shit again and I'll gut you where you stand."

Despite the weight of his words, Bodhi couldn't seem to bring himself to care what strain they put on his relationship with Xaden. Family or no, Wingleader or no. He shouldn't have put you on a fighting mat with a third year with way more experience than you. The resurfacing of those thought simply made his blood boil more.

Asra says the girl has made it to the hallway. Cuir still sounded as relaxed as ever,

Xaden seemed to nod in silent agreement, not reaching to stop Bodhi as he finally turned to leave. Garrick offered the younger boy a quipped smile before he turned towards his own dragon, which landed onto the flight field behind him.

Bodhi had begun walking back towards the building,

Where is she now? he asked of Cuir, knowing Asra would still be within communication reach.

Half way down the hall, her body is weakened. Do something. Cuir was clearly being edge on by your dragon, A demand most likely coming straight from Asra herself. Bodhi should have known you might have tried to come after him, if only to stop him from killing his own cousin.

I'm going. Cuir only seemed to chuff in his head,

Bounding back up the stairwell towards the dormitory, Bodhi slowed sensing you around the corner, funnily enough when he rounded the hallway he spotted you.

One arm brushing the wall for support, the other despite the sling it hung in, a hand was holding your side. The rib beneath screaming in protest of your movements and apparently your breathing as well. It was infuriating.

Bodhi shook off his anger with Xaden for now, you hadn't seemed to notice his approach yet. Stopping for a breather as your head swirled.

"You shouldn't be out of bed yet."

You glanced up at Bodhi, relieved to see him unharmed. You shouldn't have jerked your head up so suddenly, not ready for the sudden rush the blood would cause.

Your hand against the cool stone was the only thing tethering you, squeezing your eyes shut with a hiss of breath breaking through your clenches teeth you were vaguely aware of your body swaying.

"Y/n?" his voice was softer then usual, and closer then he had been moments before. Peeling both eyes open slowly, you could see the worry etched onto Bodhi's expression. His warm palms brushed your hip to limit the amount of swaying you did. Holding you in place, it was an effort to not gawk down at his hands.

You would have picked fun of him had you not believed you might pass out any second,

"Can you... Help me get back?" you pointed a finger behind you, in the direction of your dorm room.

"Of course."

You had been expecting him to loop your good arm over his shoulder and help you pathetically limp back down the hall. You hadn't mentally prepared yourself for him to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground.

You squeaked in surprise, Bodhi stiffens and you felt ever muscles along his chest and torso ripple with immediate affect.

"Sorry I didn't think... D-did I hurt you?"

There was a nervousness lining every edge of his body, It was an unusual characteristic for Bodhi. Even when he blinked down at you in worry, you struggled to push your words past the nervous lump forming in your throat.

"...no."

Bodhi very carefully adjusted his grip on you, the arm supporting your back pulling you closer into his chest, The one tucked under your knees tightened to keep your body as level as possible.

His warmth was encompassing your own, mixing to solidify the fact Bodhi Durran was now carrying you back to your room. Where he was going to lie you down on your bed, The thoughts that swirled your mind seemed to dull the ache of the injuries littering your body.

The bumps and bruises lost as you glanced up to watched him. The words stalled in you once more, as you became oddly aware of the tone muscles beneath his shirt. Your clothes being the only thing separating your hot skin from that direct contact you found yourself craving more and more.

"Is-" you swallowed hard, Bodhi continued walking slowing to let a couple other first years walk past. They eyed you up but said nothing, continuing on.

Bodhi glanced down at you, that usual unwavering confidence masking the nervousness that still clung to him like smoke.

"Is Xaden... Dead?" you couldn't help the hesitation in you. It hadn't been your intention for the two to fight.

Asra had filled you in on snippets of what was happening, but when you asked for the outcome she had fallen conveniently silent. The voices in your head convinced you it was your concern for the wing as a whole if Xaden were absent instead of Bodhi's personal welfare if he went head to head with the Wingleader that had you fighting the pain to leave your bed.

"He will live." Bodhi fought to bite back the word. 'Unfortunately', fearful it may give him away.

You nodded softly, hissing when the blood rush up the back of your head. The sound of your discomfort made him slow and pull you closer to him.

"Almost there." His voice had gone softer once more. As he rounded to the final edge of the hall. Slowing at your door he turned to push it with his back. It swung open, Moving inside he kicked it shut.

You glanced across. Noticing the much nicer interior,

"This isn't my room."

Bodhi moved across to the bigger bed,

"That's because it's mine."

Despite being friends long before every coming to Basgiath, you had never seen the inside of his room, never allowed yourself to get that close. Perhaps in fear of meeting another female inside or retreating our from within the dorm room.

When you went to question him, Bodhi smiles, rounding the edge of the chair

"My bed is far comfier," as if to prove his point, He began lowering you gently, the top sheet met your body first and the mattress under that sunk and molded to the lines of your body was utter bliss lifting your weight from the pressure of your injuries.

A moan of pleasure escaped you, one which you hadn't mean to release and Bodhi froze easing you onto the bed. As horror overtook you.

You had moaned right into his ear.

His face was inches from you, as he unraveled his arms from behind you.

"I know my bed was comfy, but didn't expect it to entice such sounds from you."

You face and body heated and you would have blamed it on the injuries and bruises around you, but the heat that built in your core you couldn't deny it.

Bodhi chuckled lightly, easing himself to sit away from you on the bed.

"I'm going to start accompanying you to sparring practise." That nervousness seemed to have eased away being replaced by something more you couldn't place.

"I could have taken on anyone else." The words were for yourself and him, unwilling to believe you had let yourself and your squad down with your weakness on the mats.

"Xaden shouldn't of had you fighting. Don't worry, It won't happen again." the utter conviction in his tone, it's unbreaking truth, shot shivers up your arm.

Bodhi gave you one final smile, easing up he places a soft kiss to your brow, the air stuttered out of you. You clamped your mouth shut to hide it. Sparing yourself anymore embarrassment for today.

"Get some rest Y/n."

You eased down as he began to move towards the door,

"Wait-"

Bodhi froze, glancing at you from over the curve of his muscled shoulder.

"Where will you sleep? I can't just take your bed"

Bodhi seemed to take a second,

"I'm fine with the chair for a few nights. You need the bed more."

And with those final words, Bodhi gripped the door, knuckles white as if leaving you in this room was a challenge. Nodding once he slipped out.

You sighed settling down into the bed. Letting the silence to calm the roaring he had enticed in your blood, setting it alight.

Outside the door Bodhi exhaled deeply,

When you had made that sound in his ear he had fought all restraint to keep himself from clinging to you for longer, it had taken all his fraying self restrain to leave that room.

Every inch of his skin felt tight with an invisible tension.

"Fine with the chair. Really?"

Bodhi settled his stare to glare at Garrick. The smirking bastard had his relaxed form leant against the opposite hallway wall. Brow raised in amusment.

Bodhi made his way towards him, passing Garrick who began making kissing sounds behind him.

Bodhi tried to hide his own amusement, playfully shoving Garrick's shoulder, as he followed him down the hall.

"Damn man, you're pussy whipped."

"Fuck off"

Garrick's bellowing laugh echoed down the hall.

Despite his defence of it all, Bodhi couldn't deny his friends teasing, he was well and truly fucked because if today's incident had taught him anything it was that he had fallen for you and he had fallen for you hard.

And as Bodhi went in search of Xaden, he couldn't find any part him that was unhappy by the situation.

Not one bit.

[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:*

[callsign-rogueone]

the archives // Fourth Wing masterlist

welcome to the fourth wing.

these are all reader inserts, using the second person “you”. everything about a certain series, including my fics and things I’ve reblogged that fit their vibe, will be tagged as “#Garrick and Angel”, “#Brennan and Duchess”, etc. see this post for further information. requests are currently CLOSED / VERY SLOW until I get more caught up, but my ask box is always open to chat about FW, the girlfriends, or whatever! last updated: 10.05.24

standalone fics / headcanons

Aaric Graycastle - intimacy alphabet Bodhi Durran - by your side - where were you in the morning? - not that bad at all - the night we met - intimacy alphabet - fractured - defective 🆕 Brennan Sorrengail - you're somebody else - this is me trying - intimacy alphabet - older (agegap!Bren) - you called - rest - defective (platonic) 🆕 Dain Aetos - midnight snow - part of the family - intimacy alphabet Garrick Tavis - all the small things - intimacy alphabet - one for the books Imogen Cardulo - the dress Liam Mairi - harvest day - intimacy alphabet 🆕 1. the spider 2. one too many 3. change of plans Mira Sorrengail - reunited - mercy Ridoc Gamlyn - not joking - love at first fight Xaden Riorson - a brief history of Navarre - intimacy alphabet - together 1. i wish i hated you all fourth wing boys: - excuses, excuses - under the weather - that time of the month - bedtime 🆕 - pet 🆕 all fourth wing boys + girls - study season random thoughts about multiple boys - dragon rings - xaden's birthday

girlfriendverse

Garrick and Angel about Angel 1. keep her safe 2. resson (garrick's version) 3. letters from samara 4. what was I made for? 4.5 thank you (optional spicy chapter in the middle of #4) - misc relationship asks - together (platonic Angel / Gare / Xaden) - he can call me angel if he wants to

Brennan and Duchess about Duchess 1. the last six years 2. allies 3. fireproof 4. the chess game - this is me trying - braids - relationship questions - thoughts about her and Xaden - thoughts about her rings - thoughts about "their songs"

Ridoc and Sweetheart about Sweetheart 1. love at first fight 2. like snow on the beach 3. questions 🆕 4. not alone - relationship questions

Bodhi and Darling (no particular reading order) about Darling - not that bad at all - by your side - the night we met - deja vu - glad it was you

Sawyer and Peach about Peach 1. faking it 2. the south star 3. field work 🆕

Liam and Spark 1. at last 2. alone with you 3. the beginning of the end 🆕 - relationship questions

Dain and Love about Love 1. falling, floating, flying 2. reunification day

Aaric and Sunny 1. conscription day 2. assessments

misc girlfriend stuff - modern!girlfriends' music tastes

poly fics

Dain + Xaden - our girl Ridoc + Sawyer 1. hey roomie Garrick + Bodhi - three in the morning Xaden + Liam - liam's lesson

not reader inserts

Garrick / Sloane - wrong to love you Ridoc and Sawyer - lean on me 🆕

[lovemedarkly29]

Excerpt from my fic The Agreement. Xaden and the guys are replacing Violet’s armoire:

“I guess I do have a question, though,” Garrick said, interrupting my thoughts. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Who busted a nut first — you or the armoire?”

I rolled my eyes as Liam burst out laughing, almost dropping the new armoire back down the stairs. 

[suebswrites]

Xaden's POV of Fourth Wing, Chapter 22!! Spoilers for Iron Flame included.

Have you been yearning for Xaden's POV of this chapter? Have you desperately wanted to read about the moment that he fell (HARD) for Violet? Have you been craving all the deliciously Jealous Xaden you could possibly devour?

Let's revisit the scene we MOST wanted from Fourth Wing in Xaden's POV, the bonus chapter we REALLY needed, the one we DESERVE...the kiss in the snow.

Snippet teaser below!!

--

Like my gaze doesn’t follow her everywhere she goes. Like my shadows don’t tell me every time she moves. Like I don’t beg Liam for updates from between gritted teeth, trying to make it come off as a casual interest, or at least as purely self-preservation. When I know in my chest, in my fucking heart, that it’s because I don’t think I know how to live without this woman in my life, and I absolutely do not mean because our dragons are bonded and we’re permanently tied together.

"I am annoyingly aware of everything you do,” I say, my voice low and full of heat.

[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.”

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 1

Warning: swear language, mentioned childhood trauma, and you know it's a war college so you should be prepared.

Note: I hope you will enjoy this chapter, I'm currently working on ch 2, there will be more excitment as the story goes on, pls bear with me I have so many ideas for this fanfic ;)

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

—Article One, Section One

The Dragon Rider’s Codex

„You’re late.” says General Melgren, when I enter his office. He is staring out of the window, and didn’t turn around when he heard me closing the door.

„I apologise, but…” I try to defend myself.

„I dont’t care about your excuses. This is the Conscription Day and you will not fail.” he starts his lecture for the hundreth times.

As if he let me fail. I had been trained for this day since I was born. I am strong, he made sure of that. He doesen’t know the word love since my mother’s death. I never once received a kind word from him. For me he’s a monster, not a father. I hate him.

„Yes, General.” I answer, while I’m tightening my grip on my canvas rucksack.

„Go, and don’t forget what’s your duty. And do not forget that you are a Melgren! Do not bring more shame on this name, that you already had. The Riders Quadrant the only place the suitable to hide your…disfunction.”

What a kind man, I thought. That’s not my fault that I was born this way.

„Yes, General.”

„You’re dismissed.”

With his last word I walk out of the office and I go to wait for Violet in front of her mother’s office. Voices rose from beyond the closed door. They arguing, again.

It’s not a surprise beacuse everybody knows that Violet Sorrengail isn’t meant to be a Rider. She’s small and fragile. The complete opposite of a Rider. Only General Sorrengail is blind to this fact.

Basgiath War College is famous for its cuelty throughout Navarre. Nonetheless thousands of twenty-year-olds waiting to enter their chosen quadrant. I am one of them.

Every Navarrian officer, whether they choose to be schooled as healers, scribes, infantry, or riders is molded within these cruel walls over three years, honed into weapons to secure our mountainous borders from the violent invasion attempts of the kingdom of Poromiel and their gryphon riders. The weak don’t survive here, especially not in the Riders Quadrant. The dragons make sure of that.

I nearly dropped my rucksack when General Sorrengail’s door opened with such a force that’s matching Mira Sorrengail’s temper. She’s Violets older sister by six years.

Mira Sorrengail is the epitome of the perfect Rider. She has short hair to match the standard Rider’s length. She was dressed in black leather and carried her battle worn rucksack in her hand. She was elegant and lethal.

„It seems that General Sorrengail didn’t change her mind about Violet and the Riders Quadrant.” I say when she realises that I was waiting for them.

„No. She’s batshit crazy.” Mira says without a care that the guards might tell her what she said.

„Don’t worry, I’ll be there for her. I can’t guarantee that she will graduate without a scratch, but I will do my best to protect her.” I try to calm Mira.

In this moment the door opened again a whole lot gentler then before. It was Violet.

We practically grew up together, because my father always left me here in Basgiath when he had left to fulfill his duty as one of the most powerful Generals.

Violet was a kind, gentle but sharp tounged woman. She dosen’t fit any of the criteria that makes someone suitable for a life of a Rider.

„Hi Aelin.”

„Hi, Vi. How are you?” I ask her refering to the talk with her mother.

„We don’t have time for a chit chat. Let’s go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates when I flew over.” Mira says as she starts walking, leading us down the stone staircase and through the hallways to Violet’s room.

„She’s fucking efficient, I’ll give you that.” Mira mutters

All of Violet’s personal items have been packed into crates that now sit stacked in the corner.

„I was hoping I’d be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant.” Mira says while emptying Violet’s rucksack to see what she packed that makes it look so heavy.

„So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.” Says Violet while she stares at her sister with daggers in her eyes. „And what are you doing? It took me the whole night to choose what I want to bring with me.”

„Sorry Vi, but your pack is almost as heavy as you. It would be impossible to carry it across the Parapet, even for me, and I’m stronger than you.” I wince as she try to catch her books that Mira deemed unnecessary.

„Hey, I want those books. You can’t throw all of them away.” Shouths Violet.

„What’s this for then?” She asks holding up one of the books.

„Obviously killing people. If my memory correct that’s a book about poisonous herbs” I say to at least save one of the books for Violet.

„I’m surprised that you even tried to read a book” Replies Mira not even paying attention to what she says.

„I’m not illiterate Mira. I just have problems with reading and you know that too.” I cringe because I really hate this topic.

„Shit, Aelin I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Sighs Mira, then looks at Violet to divert the subject.

„Take off those horrible boots, they are a death trap. You’ll slip right off the Parapet with those smooth soles. I have a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just in case.” States Mira while giving the boots and black leather clothes to her sister. „Now, get changed while I sort out the rest of this mess.”

„And you…” She begins and check my clothes if I too need to change them.

„You’re set.” Mira states in a surprised tone.

„Yeah, you know my father. He never let me embarass him by falling off the Parapet beacuse of something this trivial.” I said as I roll my eyes.

„Than at least he did one thing right in his life.” Mira says harshly while she finish packing into Violet’s rucksack.

„Rider black is supposed to be earned. Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” I hear Violet refer to her clothes and mine, when she emerges from the bathroom in her new attire.

„You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say.” Responds Mira while she laces Violet into a vest-style corset over her shirt.

„Here, this is yours. Put it on too.” Mira say and I get a corset that matches with Violet’s one.

„What is this?” I ask while trying putting it on.

„Something I designed,” she explains „I had it specially made for you two with Teine’s scales sewn in, so be careful with it.”

„Dragon scales?” I jerk my head back to look at her. „How the hell? Teine is huge.”

„I happen to know a rider whose power can make big things very small.” A devious smile plays across her lips.” „And smaller things… much, much bigger.”

„How much bigger?” I ask laughing.

„It’s a secret.” She says while motioning Violet to sit in front of her.

„You’re the worst.” says Violet.

„Oh come on Vi, don’t tell me that you aren’t curious.” I tease her.

„Head forward. You should have cut your hair.” Mira says while she pulls the strainds tight against Violets head and resume weaving. „It’s a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention being a giant target. No one else has a hair that fades out silver like this, and they’ll already be aiming for you.”

„You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length.” Says Violet with defiance. „Besides, other than everyone else’s concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that’s perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I’m punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it’s not like I feel the need to hide who I am. Besides it’s not like Aelin will blend into the environment either.”

„So what’s your excuse for not cutting your hair?” Mira asks with raised eyebrows. „Because I know you have one too. You two always come up with something to get out of trouble.”

„I won’t cut it. I can braid it tightly to not distract me in a fight, besides it’s not like I resemble the General. My hair and my eyes come from my mother.” I say while looking into a mirror on one of the walls.

It’s true. I’m nothing like my father. I look just like my mother, as they say. She was a beauty and the only person whom my father loved in his life. Unfortunately that caused her death.

When she was in her last months in the pregnency, she was attacked by a group who wanted to eliminate the General using my mother. But she was a warrior and tried to save us by escaping. That was when someone injured her and left her to die. When they found my mother she was dying. Pregnant with me. The healers tried to save her but they are not gods. They can’t bring back the dead. They were only able to save me. These are the only facts that I know because nobody want to speak about my mother in fear to anger the General.

Between the few minutes that my mother had died and I was saved, happened a lot of things to my body. My hair is supposed to be a natural golden color but has strands of silvery white, just like my eyes. They should be golden but there are tiny circular parts around my iris where the silvery white color appears. The healers said that it was due to lack of oxygen. My father can’t even look at me because I remind him of my mother and my unique coloring is remind him of her brutal death and that he couldn’t save her. I think this is the main reason that he hates me. The other is another consequence of the circumstance of my birth.

When I was old enough that the General brought tutors to start my education, it turned out that my brain suffered some damage too. I was dyslexic. It doesen’t mean that I can’t read, it’s just really-really difficult. As if the words are running away from my eyes, everytime I try to read something. It doesen’t matter if it’s a short or long text. My memory is great enough that I can remember a lot of things after hearing it but not everything. That makes studying a whole lot of harder. The General ordered that we keep it a secret, so outside my father, and the tutors, the Sorrengail children are the only ones who know it. This is the other reason why the General said in his office that I bring shame on the Melgren name.

„Well then there’s nothing that I can say to change either of your mind.” Sighs Mira. „Then listen to me well.” As she starts to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes, barely pausing to breathe.

„Be observant. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You’ve read the Codex?” Mira asks

„A few times.” Violet answers.

„I tried but I don’t remember everything.” I shrug.

„Then Violet will help you memorize it once you begin your classes. Then you should know that the other riders can kill you any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets means better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn’t worthy of a dragon anyway.”

„Except when sleeping. It’s an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three-„ cites Violet.

„Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe at night. Sleep in this if you can.” She taps the stomach of my corset. „Both of you.”

„There’s hidden sheaths sewn diagonally along the rib cage in your corset. For your daggers.” Continue Mira.

„I only have four.” Says Violet, then she grabs them from the floor and slide it into the sheaths.

„I have four and a sword.” I say to Mira while pointing at them at my ribs and thighs, the sword is strapped to my back.

„That’s fine. You’ll earn more.” She nods „Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times.” She points to the sheaths down her thighs.

„Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” Violet says. Clearly she worries too much.

„Come on Vi, remember what Mira said. You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say. We will survive no matter what!” I say trying to calm her down a bit.

„Exactly. You’re both famous Generals daughters. A Sorrengail and a Melgren. You can do what you have to do to survive and never forget that.” Agrees Mira with me. „There’s no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. There’s only survival and death.” The bell chimes – only thirty minutes left. She swallows. „It’s almost time. Ready?”

„No.” Replies quickly Violet.

„My hands are trembling.” I show them that indeed my hands are visibly shaking.

„Neither was I ready.” A wry smile lifts a corner of Mira’s mouth. „And I’d spent my life trainig for it, just like Aelin.”

„We’re not going to die today.” States Violet and slings the rucksack over her shoulder.

The halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as we wind our way down through various staircases, but the noise from outside grows louder the lower we descend. Through the windows, I see thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes ont he grassy fields just beneath the main gate.

From what I’ve witnessed every year, most families hold on to their candidates right up to the very last bell. The four roads leading to the fortress are clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converge in front of the college, but it’s the empty ones at the edge of the fields that make me nervous.

They’re for the bodies.

Right before we round the last corner that will lead tot he courtyard, Mira stops.

„What is – Oof.” I hear Violet’s muffled voice when Mira yanks her against her chest, hugging her tight in the relative privacy of the corridor.

„Aelin, you too. Come here.” Says Mira as Violet makes room for me, and then extends her arms.

„I love both of you. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll. Both of your lives are equally important. Do everything you can to stay alive.” Her voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

„We’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.” I promise.

She nods, her chin bumping against the top of my head. „I know. Let’s go.”

That’s all she says before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress. Instructors, commanders, and even General Sorrengail and General Melgren are gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to become the order within. Out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate is the only one no cadet will enter today, since each quadrant has its own entrance and facilities. Hell, the riders have their own citadel.

„Find Dain Aetos,” Mira tells us as we cross through the courtyard, heading for the open gate.

„Dain?” Asks Violet with a smile. I think she has a huge crush on him, but didn’t admit it yet. I don’t think he’s such a good person as Vi thinks, but I was never that close with him. We always avoided each others company. There’s something in his eyes that’s makes me uneasy.

„I’ve only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he’s doing well, and he’ll keep both of you safe.”

„As if I want to go near him” I say silently

„It doesn’t matter Aelin, just stay alive.” Scolds me Mira

„And you. Don’t smile like that,” she turns to Violet. „He’ll be second-year.” She shakes a finger at her. „Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should” – she lifts her brows – „often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety. This applies to you too Aelin.”

„So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” I say with a smirk. „Just not the second- or the third-years.”

„Exactly.” She winks.

„Then we should definitely find the handsome ones. This is our first task Vi.” I joke with her, in hope that she at least smiles because she seems a little greener the longer she looks at the wagons at the road.

„Let’s cross the Parapet first Aelin.” Says Violet

„Sure Vi.” I wink at her.

We cross through the gates, leaving the fortress, and join the organized chaos beyond.

Each of Navarre’s six provinces has sent this year’s share of candidates for military service. Some volunteer. Some are sentenced as punishment. Most are conscripted. The only thing we have in common here at Basgiath is that we passed the entrance exam – both written and an agility test – which means at least we won’t end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.

The agility test was easy with someone like me who had the „luck” to train under General Melgren’s watchful eyes. But the written exam was a nightmare. I barely passed despite the fact that I practiced for non-stop before it. It’s just the fact that I’m not like the other normal candidates. Give me a weapon and I’ll know how to use it. Bring me an opponent and I will figure out how to win. But I just can’t will my barin to function normally. Which my father likes to remind me all the time.

The atmosphere is tense with anticipation as Mira leads me along the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret.

The majority of the crowd moves to line up at the base of the northern turret – the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the mass heads toward the gate behind us – the Healer Quadrant that consumes the southern end of the college. Then I spot a few taking the central tunnel into the archives below the fortress to join the Scribe Quadrant. Violet wanted to be a scribe for her whole life. But General Sorrengail has other plans.

The entrance to the Riders Quadrant is nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, that we rider candidates will climb.

We join the riders’ line, waiting to sign in, and then I glance up.

High above us, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divides the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the Riders Quadrant on the southern ridgeline, is the Parapet, the stone bridge that’s about to separate rider candidates from cadets over the next few hours.

„And to think, I’ve been preparing for the scribe’s written exam all these years.” Says Violet in thick sarcastic voice. „I should have been playing on a balance beam.”

„Believe me Vi, I’ve been playing on a balance beam for years but I don’t think that’s the same as the Parapet.” I say laughing. „However I’m a little excited about this.”

Mira ignores us as the line moves forward and candidates disappear through the door. „Don’t let the wind sway your steps.”

Two candidates ahead of us, a woman sobs as her partner rips her away from a young man, the couple breaking from the line, retreating in tears down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. There are no other parents ahead of us, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers.

„Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down,” Mira says, the lines of her face tightening. „Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you.”

„Maybe I should let them go first,” whispers Violet.

„No,” Mira answers. „The longer you wait on those steps” – she motions toward the tower – „the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the Parapet before the terror owns you.”

„Mira’s right and you know it Vi. We will be alright. I’ll be there with you until we cross this damn thing.” I try to cheer her up. „If you want I’ll be the first, than you can watch and copy me.”

„Thanks, Aelin.” Smiles Violet.

The line moves, and the bell chimes again. It’s eight o’clock.

Sure enough, the crowd of thousands behind us has separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service.

„Focus,” Mira snaps, and I whip my head forward. „This might sound harsh, but don’t seek friendships in there. Forge alliances. Both of you.”

There are only two ahead of us now – a woman with a full pack, and a man with the woman crying over him. He’s carrying an even bigger rucksack.

I look around the pair toward the roll-keeping desk, and my eyes widen.

„Is he…?” Whispers Violet.

Mira glances and mutters a curse. „A separatist’s kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? It’s a relic from the rebellion.”

„A dragon did that?” She asks.

I nod. „Yes. General Melgren told me once, that it was his dragon that did it to all of them when he executed their parents. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason. Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor.”

It always seemed cruel to me. Punishing the children for their parents actions.

In this moment the blood drains from Mira’s face, and she grips the straps of my pack, turning me to face her. „I just remembered.” Her voice drops, and we lean in to hear her better. „Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

That name…

„That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. „He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” She lifts her gaze to Violet. „Both of you.”

„His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” Violet says quietly. „What is Xaden doing here?”

„All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ cirmes,” I murmur. Yep, my father was really a monster.

Mira whispers as we shuffle sideways, moving with the line. „Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him…” She shakes her head. „Well, there’s nothing much that can be done then. He’s risen to the rank of wingleader.”

„That’s bullshit.” Violet seethes.

„He’s sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don’t think that will stop him where you’re concerned. Once you get across the Parapet – because you will make it across – find Dain. He’ll put you in his squad, and we’ll just hope it’s far from Riorson.” She grips my straps tighter. „Stay. Away. From. Him.” She knew me well enough to feel the need to repeat it. I don’t like this whole rebellion relic thing. This punishment is too curel.

„Roger that.” I say to calm her down.

„Noted.” Nods Violet.

„Next,” a voice calls from behind the wooden tablet hat bears the rolls of the Riders Quadrant. The marked rider I don’t know is seated next to a scribe, whose eyebrows rise over his weathered face. „Violet Sorrengail?”

She nods, and picking up the quill she sing her name on the roll.

„But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant,” he says softly.

„General Sorrengail chose otherwise,” I answer him.

„Melgren?” He asks.

„Yes, my name is Aelin Melgren.” I say then I sign my name on the next empty line on the roll.

„You look so much like your late mother,” He says while sadness fills his eyes.

„You knew my mom?” I ask amazed.

He turned his head to Violet „Pity. You had so much promise.” So he knew my mother, but won’t say a thing. As usual. But I just want to know what she was like.

„By the gods,” the rider next tot he scribe says. „You’re Mira Sorrengail?” His jaw drops, and I can smell his hero worship from here.

„I am.” She nods. „This is my sister, Violet. And this is Aelin Melgren. They’ll be first-years.”

„If your sister survives the Parapet.” Someone behind me snickers. „Wind just might blow her right off.”

„Shut up, idiot. You have a higher chance falling of the Parapet than her. It seems you don’t have a brain to think with, if you don’t know to not interfere in the adults conversations.” I answer angrily.

„You fought at Strythmore,” the rider behind the desk says with awe. „They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out the battery behind enemy lines.”

„As I was saying.” Mira puts a hand at our shoulders. „This is my sister, Violet and our friend Aelin Melgren.”

„You know the way.” The scribe nods and points to the open door into the turret. It looks ominously dark in there, and I fight the urge to run away.

„I know the way,” she assures him, leading us past the table so the snickering asshole behind me can sign the roll.

We pause at the doorway and turn toward each other.

„Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child. And you too Aelin, I consider you my sister so stay alive.” She grins and walks away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word spreads of exactly who she is and what she’s done.

„Though to live up to that,” the woman ahead of us says from just inside the tower.

„It is,” Violet agrees.

„But at least she’s a good sister.” I say laughing.

My eyes adjust quickly to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows along the curved staircase.

„Sorrengail, and Melgren as in…?” the woman asks, looking over her shoulder as we begin to climb the hundreds of stairs.

„Yep.” There’s no railing, so I gesture Violet to keep her hand on the stone wall as we rise higher and higher.

„The generals?” the blond guy ahead of us asks.

„The same ones,” I answer, offering him a quick smile.

„Wow. Nice leathers, too.” He smiles back.

„Thanks. They’re courtesy of our family.”

„I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the Paraphet,” the woman says, glancing down the center of the staircase as we climb higher.

„Two last year.” Violet replies immediately. „Well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on.”

The woman’s brown eyes flare, but she turns back around keeps climbing. „How many steps are there?” she asks.

„Two hundred and fifty,” Violet answers.

„Oh god Vi, I love your brain.” I said laughing, then we climb in silence for another five minutes.

„Not too bad,” she says with a bright smile as we near the top and the line comes to a halt. „I’m Rhiannon Matthias, by the way.”

„Dylan,” the blond guy responds with an enthusiastic wave.

„Violet.” Vi give them a tense smile.

„Aelin.” I say and wink at Vi, ignoring Mira’s earlier suggestion that we avoid friendships and only forge alliances.

„I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day.” Dylan shifts his pack on his back. „Can you believe we actually get to do this? It’s a dream come true.”

„I can’t fucking wait.” Rhiannon’s smile widens. „I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?”

„Do your parents approve?” Dylan asks. „Because my mom’s been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I’ll have better chances for advancement as rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant.”

„Mine always knew I wanted this, so they’ve been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan’s already living her dream, married and expecting a baby.” Rhiannon glances back at us.

„What about you? Let me guess. With names like Melgren and Sorrengail, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year.”

„Yes, I wanted to come here since I can remember.” I say with a smile. „I’m really excited about this. I mean do you see the dragons? They magnificent.”

„I hear ya girl.” Says Rihannon as we high five. „What about you Violet?”

„I was more like volun-told.”

„Gotcha.”

„And riders do get way better perks than other officers,” Violet says to Dylan as the line moves upward again. The snickering candidate behind me catches up, sweating and red. Look who isn’t snickering now. „Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy,” she continues. No one gives a shit what riders wear as long as it’s black. The only rules that apply to riders are the ones in the Codex.

„And the right to call yourself a supreme badass,” Rhiannon adds.

„That too,” I agree. „Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers.”

„Plus I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants,” Dylan adds.

„True. Right after graduation. If we survie.” Says Violet. „I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines.”

„Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants,” Rhiannon muses.

„I’m not dying,” Dylan says with way more confidence than I feel –  however I practiced for this for my whole life – as he tugs a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. „She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we’re waiting until graduation.” He kisses the ring and tucks the chain back under his collar. „The next three years are going to be long ones, but they’ll be worth it.”

„You might make it across the Parapet,” the guy behind us sneers. „This one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine.”

I roll my eyes. He doesn’t learn.

„Shut up and focus on yourself,” Rhiannon snaps, her feet clicking against the stone as we climb.

The top comes into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. Those clouds are going to wreak havoc on us, and we have to be on the other side of the Parapet before they do.

Another step, another tap of Rhiannon’s feet.

„Let me see your boots,” Says Violet quietly, probably hoping that the jerk behind me can’t hear her.

Her brows puckers, and confusion fills her brown eyes, but she shows her the shoes. They’re smooth, just like the ones Violet was wearing earlier. My stomach sinks like a rock. I know what she will do.

The line starts moving again, pausing when we’re only a few feet from the opening. „What size are your feet?” She asks.

„What?” Rhiannon blinks at her.

„Your feet. What size are they?”

„Eight,” she answers, two lines forming between her brows.

„I’m seven,” Vi says quickly. „It will hurt like hell, but I want you to take my left boot. Trade with me.”

„I’m sorry?” She looks at her like she has lost her mind.

„These are rider boots. They’ll grip the stone better. Your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable, but at least you’ll have a shot at not falling off if the rain hits.”

„Oh hell, don’t you dare Violet Sorrengail,” I hiss at her. „Just minutes ago I promised your sister that you will survive this damn Parapet, and now you want to throw away your best chance? Absouletly no.

„I give you my left boot. It’s the same size.” I say to Rihannon.

„What? No, that was my idea.” Whispers Violet.

„I know, but I will do it.” I reply. „Now hurry up, we don’t have time. It’s almost our turn.”

Rhiannon purses her lips in debate for a second, then agrees, and we swap left boots. I barely finish lacing up before the line moves again.

The top of the turret is bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of my chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. The ravine and its river below suddenly feel very, very far. Every trial in the quadrant – including this one – is designed to test a cadet’s ability to ride. If someone can’t manage to walk the windy length of the slim stone bridge, then they sure as hell can’t keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon.

And as for the death rate? I guess every other rider thinks the risk is worth the glory – or has the arrogance to think they won’t fall.

I breath deeply as I walk the edge behind Rhiannon, and in front of Violet, my fingers skimming the stonework as we wind our way toward the parapet.

Three riders wait at the entrance, which is nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. One with ripped-off sleeves records names as candidates step out onto the treacherous crossing. Another, who’s shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructs Dylan as he moves into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there will bring him luck.

The third turns in my direcion and my heart simply…stops.

He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the  muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jawdropping even – everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carves, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth.

He’s the most esquisite man I’ve ever seeen.

Even the diagonal scar that bisects his left eyebrow and marks the top corner of his cheek only makes him hotter. Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot. Suddenly, I know that I won’t take Mira’s advice that not to fuck around outside my year group.

„See you girls on the other side!” Dylan says over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread wide.

„Ready for the next one, Riorson?” the rider with the ripped sleeves says.

Xaden Riorson?

„You ready for this, Sorrengail? I think Melgren is fine, but you seems a little pale.” Rhiannon says moving forward.

The black-haired rider snaps his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, then he looks onto Violet. That’s when I see it, the rebellion relic. It start at his bare left wrist, then disappears under his black uniform to appear again at his collar, where it stretches and swirls up his neck, stopping at his jawline.

„Oh shit,” I whisper, and his eyes snapped back to mine, as if he can hear me over the howl of wind that rips at my secured braid.

„Sorrengail? Melgren?” He steps toward us, and I look up… and up.

Good gods, I barely reach his collarbone. He’s massive. He has to be more than four inches over six feet tall.

I nod once, while a I make sure that I stand before Violet. To my movement the shining onyx of his eyes transforms to cold, unadulterated hatred. I can almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne.

„Aelin?” Rhiannon asks, moving forward.

„You’re the Generals daughters.” His voice deep and accusatory.

„You’re Fen Riorson’s son,” Violet counters behind me.

Xaden sucks in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexes once. Twice. „Your mother captured my father, and her father executed him.”

„Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”  Oh gods Violet, just shut up please, I beg in my mind.

„Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness.

I hold his glare, as if winning this staring competition will gain us safe entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the Parapet behind him. Either way, I’m getting across. I promised to Mira that both of us will be safe on the other side.

His hands clench into fists, and he tenses.

I prepare for the strike, if I have to protect Violet. He might want to throw us off this tower, but I won’t make it easy for him.

„You all right?” Rhiannon asks, her gaze jumping between Xaden and me.

He glances at her. „You’re friends?”

„We met on the stairs,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

He looks down, noting our mismatched boots, and arches a brow. His hands relax. „Interesting.”

Fuck, Violet and her big heart.

„Are you going to kill us?” Asks Violet behind me.

„Shit, Violet just shut up please.” I hiss at Vi. „I don’t think it is a good idea to tempt someone throwing us off, who is bigger and stronger then us. I suppose you just have a death wish with pissing him off.” I facepalmed.

His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds.

A scream rends the air, and we jerk our attention to the Parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

Violet gasps behind me.

He catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that isn’t there.

„Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouts.

„Oh gods!” In the corner of my eyes I see that Violet’s hand flies to cover her mouth. That’s when Dylan loses his grip on the water-slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below.

Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret.

„Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. „Your turn Melgren.”

Fucking handsome bastard.

[ubiquitouslyme]

Sneak Peak

Working on a little something new. I'll be posting sneak peaks over the next few weeks!

Want to guess where I'm going with this???

Garrick stared at his best friend until Xaden met his gaze again.

“Stop,” Xaden said, his eyes narrowing.

“Sorry, habit.”

Even a year later, Garrick couldn’t help but stare at Xaden’s eyes, checking for those familiar but horrible red rings.  Checking to make sure they weren’t there.  He knew Xaden was cured, but…the past few years, well, things had gotten worse before they’d gotten better.

Even though they’d won the war, even though Xaden had been cured, him turning venin had nearly broken their friendship.

“Not today,” Xaden whispered, his eyes meeting Garrick’s.  There was a pleading look to them that he wasn’t used to seeing in his normally confident best friend. Garrick gave him a small nod. 

. . .

“I thought you said you would stop thinking about it,” Xaden murmured.

“I thought you promised you wouldn’t use your signet on me,” Garrick tossed back.

“I don’t always mean to.  But you suck at shielding, Tavis.”

Garrick smiled.  “That’s true.”  He reinforced his shields.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 8. Prove You Wrong

One tragic day changes Dahlia's life forever. Despised by her father and brother, she's spent her entire life trying to be the child and sister she use to be. But nothing she ever does is good enough. She joins the Rider's Quadrant to prove them wrong. Garrick now in his second year has proven he is more than the mark on his skin to his fellow riders, and taken leadership of his own Squad alongside Xaden. Little does he know the girl walking across the parapet is about to send him on a rollercoaster of a year. Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

I join the crowd of cadets making their way to the gym, the first round of challenges finally here. My staff firmly grasped in my hand. Before I can pass through the door with everyone else, a hand grasps my arm firmly, pulling me roughly from the crowd as I stumble over my feet. I right myself, prying the hand from my arm to look up and see Dain staring down at me.

”What the hell do you want?” I snap at him.

I’d gone most of the last two weeks without interacting with him. Only catching his eyes on me during battle brief and during meals. Luckily our squads had not been paired together for any classes, meaning I got a lot of time away from him. Otherwise I know I would have crossed paths with him already.

”Just wanting to make sure you do your best in there and don’t disappoint dad.” He tells me bluntly.

”Oh don’t worry, father dearest won’t have to worry about that.” I snap before pivoting on my heel and walking away.

”What about those marked ones you’re training with?” He calls out, causing me to stop in my tracks.

Shit. Clearly Dain was paying more attention to me than I thought. As well as training with Austin and Liz, Bodhi had brought along another marked first year called Ciaran . But we weren’t always the only squad in there. Every night there would be marked ones from other squads scattered around the gym, keeping the allocated distance as dictated by leadership. Marked ones weren’t allowed to hang out in groups of more than three. And I knew exactly what it looked like to Dain. I turn back to him, that smug smirk on his face that I had grown to know as a look he got when he thought he had caught me out. Not today.

”I’m not training with them. I’m training with my squad, helping those who need it. No rules against that. And the other squads are more than welcome to use the space as well.” I tell him with the smile I usually used when talking to our father.

”You need to be mindful of the company you’re keeping. Word might get out. Not exactly a good look for us.” The tone almost similar to the one our father used when giving orders. Except Dain hasn’t nailed the commanding authoritive edge to it needed to drive it home.

”Oh yes, because me being a good squad member and helping others is such a bad look. Leadership are definitely going to hate me doing that, and being able to work with others. Maybe you should take some notes if you want to impress dad and have a leadership position next year. Wouldn’t want to disappoint him.” I mock back, before pivoting on my heel to walk inside the gym.

By the time I get inside challenges have already started up. I push my way through the crowd to where I can see Bodhi’s head sticking up above the crowd. And on the mat in front of us was Austin, facing off against a far bigger first year from First Wing. Two weeks ago I would have been a little nervous for the outcome of the fight. But as she ducks under his swing and takes his knee out with a well placed kick, I have nothing to worry about. And I can’t help the slight smile that works its way onto my face. It had only been a bit over a week that we had been training together, but her and Liz had come a long way since then. Both practically sponges with the information and techniques I was showing them. They weren’t perfect, but they knew enough to hold their own more comfortably.

”Durran and Stoll, you’re up. And Cardulo and Huxley you’re up to.” Emetterio calls out, pointing to the boy standing next to me and the pink haired girl I now knew as Imogen from the few times I had seen her in the gym.

I lookover as she pushes through the crowd, drawing my attention to Dain who is looking right at me, with a look that tells me he is not convinced about the conversation we had outside. He was definitely going to go and tell our father about this. And as much as I wanted to say it didn’t worry me. It did. I might be away from our father, but he still had power over me here.

”For someone who apparently took a third year down so easily two weeks ago, you’re looking pretty nervous Aetos.” A voice drawls from next to me.

I turn my head, and standing right where Bodhi had been moments prior was someone I hadn’t been this close to since conscription day. Someone who had shown how much they wanted nothing to do with me every time our eyes met. Garrick. I almost have have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. He was easily the tallest rider in the quadrant. And probably the biggest. And yet he had managed to squeeze into the space Bodhi had once been. But I had seen the way other riders moved out of his and Xaden’s way in the halls. No one wanted to mess with them. And I couldn’t blame them. One look at Garrick and I knew I had no chance against him on the mat. Maybe if I could wear him out, but I could tell that wouldn’t be easy.

”Don’t call me that.” I snap back before turning my gaze back to the challenges in front of me.

”Someone’s touchy about their name.” He teases before chuckling.

Gods I wish I could punch him and shut him up.

”Yes, something you should have learnt on my first day here.” I point out before clenching my jaw.

Something he must notice as he chuckles again. “Oh I did. And before long you and that brother of yours will learn your name will only get you so far here. I can see it in your face, you got lucky with that third year.”

Oh but he was wrong. Very wrong. The emotions that must have crept onto my face were nothing to do with the challenge awaiting me when my name was called. There was no denying my fight against Nari and I had been over and done with quicker than a lot of others during assessment day. And due to Garrick not having shown up to any of the training sessions I had been at in the gym, he was yet to see me actually fight.

”Henrick and Ae- Dahlia! You’re up!” Emetterio calls out, pulling me from my moment with Garrick as I turn to watch another first year from Dain’s squad walk onto the mat, sword clutched in his hands.

Goosebumps work my way onto my neck, causing me to shiver as Garrick leans down to place his mouth next to my ear. “Go on then little Aetos. Try prove me wrong.”

Oh don’t worry Garrick Tavis. I will prove you wrong. Though I don’t say the words out loud, keeping them to myself as I grip the staff in my hand tightly before walking onto the mat. I didn’t need to live up to my name. Didn’t want to be anything associated to that last name. I needed to prove that I was more than just the Colonel’s daughter. That despite my last name I had worked and earned what I was here to do. Not just handed it on a silver platter because of that name. I almost feel sorry for the boy stood in front of me, his light brown hair curling on his head, the freckles scattered on his face giving him a youthful look to his appearance.

With a flick of my arm, the staff that I’d had retracted till now expands to its full height. The one upside to my last name was the weapon smiths. Any idea they had, they were willing to help create. One of which was the staff in my hand. I was good with the staff, even if it wasn’t a popular choice. Especially amongst riders. Mastering a staff meant you had a lot of flexibility in finding something you could use as a weapon. A handy skill to have out in the field if you got caught out. I swear I can hear Garrick snicker from behind me at my choice in weapon.

The boy and I circle each other, eyeing each other up as we look for an opening to attack. I lung forward, testing to see how he would react as I hadn’t seen him fight before. He easily deflects my incoming attack before coming back at me with a series of powerful slashes. He clearly knew his way around a sword. Good. I wanted a challenge. But I could tell he was unsure of my weapon of choice, his eyes moving up and down the staff as he takes in how I move.

I feign an attack to his right before pivoting towards his left as he takes the bait, swinging to block an attack that never comes. I watch as his eyes go wide as I swing low, taking out his legs from under him as he falls to the ground. He quickly bounces back as he rolls out of it before spinning back towards me, sword gripped tightly in his hands again. He comes at me with a series of strikes, trying to closer the gap to gain the advantage. But I block every single strike with ease.

I can see the frustration building in his eyes each time I dodge his attack. He’s skilled, but I hold the advantage with my weapon. I take a moment to catch my breath, waiting for an opening. Which comes seconds later as he charges forward with a powerful swing. I quickly side-step, lashing out with my staff in a quick jab. The impact sends him stumbling back and I see my opening and I don’t hesitate to make my move. I thrust my staff towards the unprotected area, meeting its mark with ease. My staff connecting with a satisfying blow that sends him sprawling to the ground as I sweep his feet out from under him. He hits the mat with a solid thud as his sword flies from his hand. He makes a move to grab his sword, his movements sluggish after hitting the mat. But I’m quicker, pinning him as I place my boot on his chest, staff pushing down on his neck. The boy looks up at me wide eyed, shocked I had pinned him within two minutes, before nodding his head in a sign of defeat.

”Aetos is the winner!” Emetterio declares, before moving to select the next cadets to take to the mat.

I release the boy from beneath me, pivoting on my heel to return to my squad. I can’t help but smirk at the scowl on Garrick’s face before he turns and pushes his way through the crowd. Told you I’d prove you wrong.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94

[quietstormxr]

You'll Survive

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence

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

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

Word Count: 4.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘That is no dragon.’ Diomat replies fiercely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘This can kill them?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘DIOMAT!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Where did the squad go?’

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

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

‘Did Nokass give us any orders?’

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

‘Should I tell them about the wyvern?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bodhi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

So… I actually started writing the au I mentioned in this post. The first chapter is mostly and introduction, but I’m almost done with chapter two and I’ll post it as soon as I can!

Here’s the link for those who want it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58851091/chapters/149991277

(Tagging the people who asked me to let them know when the story was out. If you don’t want to be mentioned, let me know and I’ll take you off)

@writtenbymoon @graaaaaayy @clockworkdreamer @bookaddictedrose @bookwormysblog @mysterylilycheeta @sabu123098 @miminitodoke @crisalidaseason @fatima1012-blog @disneyfqngirl @kat-sumi @aroacemushroom @rainingrainbow @thestarseternaal @thefinalehope @violet-desk @bestbookfriends @theespressooqueen

[pvrkacciosan]

Secrets and Sex

Summary: After your training session with Bodhi had gotten rather... Heated and progression was inevitable. The desire for one another didn't stop there, but keeping it hidden from your friends may have been more pointless than you realized.

Pairing: Bodhi Duran x Marked Fem! Reader

Word count:

Warnings: 18+ , !NSFW!, explicit smut scenes, swearing, submissive Bodhi It was an accident I apologise for nothing

A.N: I Definitely got carried away with this...

Part 1 | Part 2

☽⋆❈⋆☾

It has been a little over a week since your initial training session with Bodhi and since then, the tether of tension between you both only seemed to tighten. Ensnaring and constricting until it left you both panting and pining after one another, on more then one occasion.

Today was no different, Bodhi has sought you out this morning, as everyone has been on the move for breakfast, capturing you in the hallway and pulling you away to slip into the shadows.

His mouth has been on your own before you could even voice a single word. Not that you had minded in the time. It had been reckless, in the sense anyone in the College could have walked upon you two, the thrill of being caught giving you a shot of adrenaline.

Especially if your friends found out, you weren't sure why you had hidden this... Thing with Bodhi, you'd known him for years and it wasn't exactly like Violet and Xaden had hidden their affections for one another.

But they were more? Where they not, you were just sleeping with Bodhi, Right? No string attached. He was attractive, you were beyond the point of denying that fact, but there wasn't anything else to it.

The first time you'd gotten together, it had been a heated training session and tension was running high on both ends. And even after he had been inside you, tongue and cock, after all that when you left to go back to your own bed that night you had merely concluded it had been a heat of the moment act.

But what about every time after that?

The thoughts were dizzying, and you could almost be mad at him for getting you this bothered after your morning make our session. Unable to think beyond his touch, the way he could make your body give everything it had to offer and in turn, you could make him crawl. Nervousness had wracked you the first time you took control, but Bodhi had seemed more keen and interested the more you denied him. Keeping him pining until you decided what he could have and when he could have it.

You would never guess your best friend would be for giving into the submission of letting you lead him through his pleasures. It didn't happen every time you guys slept together, but when it did. Let's just say it always worked into your favour when he turned his attention to you.

Breathing deeply you slouched into your seat on Asra's back, the warmth of her reptilian body radiating beneath you.

You humans and your fickle feelings.

Asra's voice in your head was subtle this time, drifting in through the swarm of thought clouding your mind.

"They are called emotions." You grated out aloud, no need to communicate through your thoughts when you knew she could hear you perfectly well up here. In the skies above the War College, away from the bustle of noise below.

It had become your safe haven, in the clouds the cold air nipping your exposed skin, a deliberate act on your part, to leave parts exposed to feel the winds bite.

You can be easily broken by them. They are fickle.

Taking a second to extend a thought to her words, the thunder of your own pulse in your ears drowning out the sound of the wind ripping your hair from the braid that whipped at your spine.

If you are to love him so be it. Love hard, or hate. Simple. You are a dragon rider, you have no time for fickle feelings which take up your time.

You did not require any further poking from her, you knew she spoke of Bodhi. But did you love him?

Yes, You were insanely attracted to him and when he fucked you, Seven hells it was the best you ever had, but...was that love?

You had been friends since you were young and had spent many years stuck in that station of friendship and after that training session nothing has changed between you, other than the nights you spent many nights exploring one another in the most intimate of ways.

With every pounding thought you always rounded back to the same insistently annoying question which left your stomach hollowing out inside you, Were you in Love with Bodhi Durran?

You're doing it again. Your dragons tone was flat in your head, void of all irritation or feeling

When you both finally lowered beneath the cover of the clouds, your eyes began scanning the grounds below. Your attention instantly attracted to where a familiar Green dragon perched. Watching you descend, her rider relaxed between her front legs.

Steeling your thoughts you said nothing more in the topic, voiding all notions of Bodhi from your mind as Asra began circling the college flight field. Decending downwards in a dive that has you squeezing your thighs against her and tucking yourself behind her neck to avoid being ripped away by the wind.

Gripping to your senses you braced for the impact of Asra connecting the ground. Waiting until the dust cloud to blow away before sliding over her shoulder and down her leg.

Turning, you began inspecting Asra's chest. Searching the areas she couldn't to make sure there wasn't any cuts or wounds that might have occured during the flight manvours before you both flew off in a private flight session.

Despite being a mutual routine you did after each flight, you were fumbling trying to ignore the attention you felt watching your back.

The only warning you got for his approach was a low snarl from Asra which rumbled above your head.

Gentle moving hands slide around your waist. The contrast in heat radiating from his hand shot shivers down your spine.

Bodhi's hands rested at your hip when you straightened. Fingers curling under the rim of your flight jacket.

Asra, is there anyone else in the field?

You waited as she surveys the open expanse of land.

No one beyond those Cuir has scared off.

Good.

Turning in his arms, You take all but one second, one for a breath before you stepped up, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. You couldn't give a damn if you were just here for the sex. You needed it, a deathly desire.

Bodhi didn't interject when you planted your lips to his own, hands pulling your body closer to his still. Molding your torsos, you could feel every inhale he struggled to take, forced to pick between you and breathing. A warmth spread to your core when he held his breath.

Bodhi slanted his head, inclining it down to slip his tongue into your mouth, warm sliding along your bottom lip, gravity pushed you back and when you bumped into something warm you stumbled, Bodhi's hand keeping you from crumbling.

Asra grumbled softly, Bodhi jerked his head back, and you could see in his eyes clear as day the alarm in them when he glanced up to Asra. The angle awkward from where Bodhi had you pressed against her foreleg.

You laughed softly pushing to hide your face in his chest.

"Perhaps. We should take this elsewhere." Bodhi whispered softly next to the shell of your ear, eyes unblinking away from your dragons piercing gaze.

Wise choice boy.

You tried to stifle another laugh as Asra continued glaring.

Lips tingling for more as Bodhi clasped your hand and began leading you both from the flight field. Keeping pace, you avoided the sound of other students, to evade their attention.

He led you faster, assuming you would be going to his room you felt the tension rise in your arm when he suddenly pulled you into another direction.

Twisting to keep up, You hugged closer to his arm. "Where are we going?"

Bodhi didn't speak, but led you on further and you caught the peak of a boyish grin gleaming over his shoulder, rounding the corner of the main entrance to the college he walked backwards pushing open a door tucked into the wall.

The room was dark, beyond a small line of light creeping through the cracks of the door, a door which had become so warped it didn't meet all the edges of the frame.

There was shelves, but you didn't give yourself time to inspect the contents. Perhaps a store cupboard.

His hands grasped your neck, thumb working small circles into your jaw, as he walked backwards still. He pulled you closer by your neck.

You allowed yourself to be lead and spun until your back met a solid wall. It was cold against your spine, goosebumps racking.

You felt the hot pant of his breath against your cheek before his lips met yours in the darkness. Needy and fast, You worked a hand up and around the ball of his shoulder, arm resting there so you could thread a hand into the hair at the back of his neck.

His shoulders trembles under your touch, giving into the sensation as you pulled and bit into his lip. Bodhi's head titled back away from your mouth as you tugged his hair. His breathing is heavy and uneven, but even in the dim lighting you can spy the look of desire in his eyes, eyes which darted to blink at every inch of your face.

"Want me to stop love?" The light across his face shifts, his brow was raised. But that word made your heart stutter against your ribs. Love.

"I want you," You hover your lips above his, could almost taste yourself on him, you would have ended the sentence there but instead. "-I want you to do as I say."

Watching his face for a reaction, Bodhi hummed low the sound soft, the edge of his lip curved up. "Then I am at your mercy Darling."

His attempt to kiss you was halted when you tightened the fistful of hair in your grip, Bodhi hissed but his eyes rolled at the sensation.

"Did I say you could kiss me?" Tilting your head to watch him under hooded lashes.

Your pulse was thrumming loud in your inner ear, but through the pleasant roar you could have swore you heard Bodhi whimper. Fucking whimper. Something inside you tightened, tension rising as you slowly loosened your grip and used that hand to push his shoulder, coaxing him to kneel before you.

He did so willingly, eyes ravaging every inch of your body on the way down,

Once he was on his knees, you stepped back, flush against the wall. Hand shifting to unbutton the top of you flight leathers, slowly teasing the clothes from you body, the cold air against your warm skin emitted a small gasp from you.

Stripping, until you stood naked for him. Bodhi's eyes darted frantically unable to take everything in at once, you watched them flicked from your breasts down the valley between them, he stilled at the sight of you completely bare before him.

Extending a hand, you waited until he placed his in yours, His breath was swallow and you watched his expression as he zones in on your face, unblinking as you led his hand between your legs.

"Say the words" Bodhi sounded almost breathless, hand inches from grasping you where you needed him most, You could feel the warmth of those fingers hovering below the wetness between your legs.

With the anticipation you struggle with the words, thoughts fuzzy at the sight of him kneeling for you, waiting so desperately for you to let him touch you.

"Touch me." Even the sound of your own voice sounded foreign, undiluted with the desire that was threatening to make your knees buckle.

Damn him. Bodhi smiles, cocking his head sideways, "Need more description then that Love." His words were coupled with the featherlight touch of his thumb against your clit.

You gasped, nerves pulse painfully, aching for touch. Bodhi kept smirking, but did not touch you again.

"I want your fingers inside me. As many as you can manage. I want to come over them-" he brushed a finger along the folds of your entrance, a pause to catch your breath, "Then I want more."

"Tongue or cock?" his voice was raspy, and low.

You broke through the stupor to nod, "Both. Definitely both."

He paused for a long second, stilling.

"Bodhi-"

The first finger entered you without warning, warmth bloomed and pumping through you. He began slow, driving the singular finger in and out, the pace not changing until he added that second finger. Thumb joining the pair already in use as he stretched you, His thumb encircled the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Throwing your head back you could only ignore the pain, when your skull smacked into the wall, back arching slightly as he kept the pace. Your heart was hammering harder as you breathing came out faster, moans of pleasure which seemed to encourage Bodhi on further.

The pleasure was building, he curled one of those fingers inside you, you cried out free hand gripping new fistful of his hair. You felt your release drawing closer still,

Words were a struggle so when Bodhi hit this sweet spot, you shook to stay standing, and without vocal command Bodhi somehow knew to keep going. A blessing you were grateful for, release was barreling into you with the next thrust of his fingers, your nail digging into his shoulder to stay standing

Opening your eyes, you were staring at the dark ceiling, the air fighting its way in and out from your lungs. You had to blink back the dark edges of your vision in order to glance down at Bodhi.

"Please" He begged softly, your mind was so fuzzy you could only stare blankly down at him until he gives a pointed look between your legs.

Nodding, unable to get the words to leave your lips, finger still twisted in his hair, your grip loosened when you feel his tongue on the inside of your thigh.

Lapping up the evidence of your release, the anticipation of him making it to the apex of your leg made your heart hammer once more, His tongue ran along your folds when you were interrupted.

Incoming.

Asra's voice in your head ruptured through the atmosphere. You shifted and moved a hand to Bodhi's shoulder, he glances your way concern lacing his expression.

"What's wrong?" His expression stills. Cuir no doubt delaying information to him, someone was coming this way.

It was only a second later you could hear the footsteps approaching. You separated, Bodhi rising to pass you something to cover yourself with. Holding it against your chest you froze.

"Who is that?" You whispered, Bodhi glanced at the door, perhaps waiting for it to open, In this moment you could finally take a second to look around the store room.

The room was filled with spare riding equipment, replacements for saddles. Spare sizes of riding leathers. Shit. After Flight manoeuvrers anyone could need to come in here and you were completely naked and still hazy from your release.

Swaying on legs that still felt to shaky to hold your weight. Bodhi steadied you with a hand, his other free one coming up to cover your mouth. Wide eyed and trying to slow your breathing and heart beat,

When the door begun to open, Bodhi spun away and thumped his foot against it.

"Fuck." The door stopped, Bodhi rounded it, pushing through the gap of its opening to keep you from sight.

There was a shuffle as the person moved backwards, allowing the spacw for Bodhi to stand in the way of the door.

"Xaden, Anything I can help you with?"

You knew Bodhi said his name loud enough for you to hear through the door, as quietly as you could you knelt to reach for your clothes sprawled on the floor around your feet.

"I'm just looking for some new sizes of flight leather, Violence tore a hole in hers flying yesterday."

You stilled waiting for the door to open, or Bodhi to speak up, which ever came first.

"There isn't any there that would fit Sorrengail." You froze at Bodhi's words, the silence from Xaden causing you to silently drag your flight jacket over your shoulders,

Bodhi stuttered over his words, "I was eh.. looking for some for Y/n, There is a limited supply. Was just on my way to put in an order for some more."

Whether Riorson was going to buy it... You bit into your lip awaiting in the darkness.

Xaden grumbled something which was muffled through the door, Bodhi laughed and you were finally able to breath when their voices and footsteps began to retreat from the store cupboard.

You grabbed for your boots, ramming your feet into them and tucking the edges of the trousers around the rim. Tying them up quickly you ran a hand through you hair before moving for the door.

With a quick check to make sure the coast was clear you slipped out and made your way back inside towards the courtyard.

Satsified?

I know you can hear my every thought without the shield, so I'm going to spare us both our sanity by not answering that. Had you remembered to put your shield up whilst Bodhi...

At the memory of his fingers inside you deep and warm, your breath hitched and as you body warmed, an itch that hadn't been scratched. The session in the store room had been a warm up for more... Because Bodhi would have given more.

There was no doubt what your night activities would include, by your hand or his own should he seek you out.

Approaching the corner that would round into the food hall, you picked at the skin on your finger, What if he didn't come looking for you? What if-

You collided with a body when you walked around the corner, Hand landed against your torso to steady you, Grabbing to the persons forearm.

Glancing up, you still as Cassandra roughly shook your grip off her, as though the hint of your touch was toxic. The sneer was already set in her expression and disgust lined her stare.

- ❈ -

Bodhi was sat beside Xaden and Garrick, Keeping to the numbers pushed onto them by the rules. Three and no more marked ones to be found together at any one time. To keep them from building some sort of rebellion, shame is was far to late for that.

Bodhi tried to ignore the ache in his dick, he had so been waiting to be inside you since he had pulled you aside this morning, the memory of his hands of your, he had to clench his fists to keep from getting himself too worked up.

"The fuck got you in such a mood?" Garrick kept his voice low as a group from first wing strolled past their table.

Xaden beside him laughed as he lifted a cup to his lips, "Blue balls" He muttered it, but both Bodhi and Garrick heard him clear as day.

The older boy laughed but Bodhi simply scowled at his cousin, Xaden tried to ignore it by prolonging his drink.

"Just ask her out already." Garrick tapped the table, drumming the surface with his fingers. Bodhi was gritting his teeth so hard, he thought they might actually shatter and then he might even break something in his jaw.

When he looked to Xaden, Bodhi froze, Xaden was giving him a pointed look.

The bastard knew.

[andrealvsbooks]

Until I Found You

“We both knew that this marriage was only on paper and the birth of Xaden is the same for me, just an obligation. I can't love a child who only reminds me of 10 ten years of lack of freedom. I must go and be happy, with the man I love and the baby I carry in my womb from him."

- Recovered Correspondence to Fen Riorson from his ex-wife, Eleanor Winters.

Shortly after Xaden saves Violet from torture and many cadets go to Aretia, Xaden arrives at a village razed by the Venin and discovers a girl who looks like her mother in the rubble.

English isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes or things that look weird please tell me so I can fix them.

Chapter 1

-Why? -Fen Riorson asks his wife as he looks out the window.

His voice sounded rough from all the time he had spent in silence since his wife had revealed her secret affair and pregnancy to him that morning. And there they both were at that moment, in his office, not knowing what to say, while his wife, Eleanor, just stared straight ahead with her usual expressionless expression as she stroked her belly.

-Does it matter, Fen? -asked the woman indifferently.

-Of course it matters, Eleanor! My wife has been cheating on me for I don't know how long and she hasn't even bothered to prevent a pregnancy! That was your intention, to mock me? Congratulations, you've succeeded! -Fen shouts angrily.

-Don't you dare say that, I've spent ten years of my life forgetting my feelings, giving everything to a husband and a child I don't love, counting every damn day for it to be over. Did you ever ask me how I felt? Of course you didn't. So don't you dare blame me for after almost 10 years finding love and prioritizing myself -Eleanor said calmly, as if they were talking about the weather, just as her mother had taught her since she was a little girl.

-Eleanor...I...love you.

-But I don't, and it's time you understood that a marriage is meaningless if the love is one-sided. I just...wish you could find what I found and know what love is, because this isn't -Eleanor said, her voice soft. 

-What about Xaden? I know you don't love him, but he... he adores you, Eleanor. What will I tell him when you leave next week?

-He's smart, tell him the truth, -she said coldly.

-Don't leave on his birthday, please Eleanor, I beg you, don't do this to him, he's just a boy and he's your son too- Fen pleads.

-That child is not my son, it's just a simple duty that I had no choice but to fulfill, nothing else, don't make me repeat it again. Now, if you will excuse me, I am in a hurry -said his wife with annoyance.

-Of course Eleanor, I'm sure your lover will want to know about our conversation  -said the duke sarcastically. 

-Exactly, dear husband -said his wife in a mocking tone before leaving, closing the door tightly on his way out.

And as the woman walked through the corridors she heard in her still-husband's office the glass of probably his whiskey bottles breaking.

                       ---------------------------------

March 6 was the day Fen Riorson would remember most, not only because it was the day his beloved son was born, but also because on that day his wife became a cold woman. 

From the first moment Fen was fascinated by Eleanor, and for the first few months of their marriage, even though Fen knew she did not love him, he tried to have a good relationship and for an arranged marriage that was wonderful. 

But when Eleanor stayed those pregnant attempts at a nice relationship disappeared, giving way to a cold Eleanor, as if she were an empty shell while Fen tried futilely to make her happy. The news of the pregnancy was for the young wife as if someone had poured cold water on her, although that was the purpose of the marriage. 

The birth of Xaden only reinforced that behavior, refusing to touch him when he was born and ignoring his presence. Fen thought he just needed time. He was dead wrong. 

So there they were 10 years later in the gardens of Riorson House, very early in the morning so that the Duchess's farewell would not be a spectacle. 

-You could stay until tomorrow-suggested Fen once again. 

-I don't think Xaden is too sad that I'm not here on his birthday, I haven't been with him for a long time. 

Fen just nods which surprises the woman:

-You won't insist anymore, you? Fen Riorson, resigned?

-I'm tired of fighting for what is not possible, just please go now, I don't want some servant to see you leave and Xaden to find out through gossip," said Fen looking at the horizon.

Without another word they headed for the small carriage Eleanor had chosen to go unnoticed. 

-Where will you go? -asked Fen. 

-It is enough for you to know that it is a small village in Poromiel. 

-Eleanor, you know perfectly well that the venin... -mentioned the duke worried. 

-I know how to take care of myself Fen, besides Éber knows that place very well -interrupted Eleanor referring to her lover. 

-I guess there's no point in trying to change your mind.

-No, it doesn't -agrees the woman as she climbs into the carriage. 

-Then I wish you have a good trip, my dear wife -Fen said with a sad smile. 

-Be happy Fen -Eleanor said goodbye with an exceptional true smile. 

That day a boy spent his saddest birthday to date, a man lost his beloved and a woman began to taste freedom together with her future child and the only man she had ever loved. 

Neither had any idea of all the misfortunes that would occur years later and the destinies would cross.

If anyone has any ideas for a one shot or multi chapter fanfics that are from Harry Potter, the chronicles of Narnia or the empyre saga, I'll be happy if you leave them in my question box to try to write them.

[callsign-rogueone]

keep her safe - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader  This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.

Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”

The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.

He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.

That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.

He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat. 

You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.” 

You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.

He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.

“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.” 

There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.

He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”

You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious. 

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade. 

“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.

“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.

Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.

“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.

“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.

“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”

“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”

“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks. 

“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.” 

“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming. 

You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”

When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”

You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.

There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face. 

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly. 

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you. 

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?” 

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument. 

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something. 

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt. 

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.” 

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting. 

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.”  Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t. 

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

 You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips. 

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden. 

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already. 

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them. 

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.