#sawyer x ridoc

[callsign-rogueone]

lean on me

Sawyer Henrick + Ridoc Gamlyn Sawyer runs out of painkiller and drags himself, fully clothed, into an ice-cold shower in an attempt to take the edge off. It works, but once he sits down on the tile floor, he can’t get back up to turn the water off. Feeling that his rider is trapped there, freezing cold and dissociating, Sliseag reaches out to Aotrom, who sends Ridoc to the rescue. words: 3.2k 🏷️: trying something new, so be gentle with me pls, written before the release of Onyx Storm, set 2-ish weeks after the end of Iron Flame. nonsexual nudity, brief description of Sawyer’s injury site (Rid changing his bandages) but no blood or anything, mentions of nausea and skipping meals, the word puke is used exactly once, painkiller reliance, negative self-talk — Sawyer’s self esteem issues re: the injury and not bonding in his first year make an appearance, as well as Ridoc's guilt for letting things get this bad. this could be read either as platonic or as a ship fic, if you want. there’s mutual I love you’s in there, but nothing too romantical — and if you aren’t cuddling with your homies on the regular, wyd?

“Sliseag’s boy needs you.”

Ridoc is out his door and down the stairs in seconds, headed to the first-floor room they’d moved Sawyer into after he’d been discharged from the infirmary. The door is unlocked, the room empty, but he can hear water running in the bathroom right across the hall.

“Sawyer?”

No response. 

Then he sees a person sat against the wall under the spray of one of the faucets — unmistakably Sawyer, from their red-brown hair and pale skin. He’s still dressed. He hadn’t drawn the curtain, seemingly just turned the water on and sat down under it.

“Sy?” Ridoc tries again quietly, not wanting to startle him — nothing. He reaches up to turn the water off, and only then does Sawyer seem to notice his presence, looking up from his blank stare at the opposite wall.

His cheeks are wet, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes red and swollen from crying. His entire body is trembling — from pain or from the cold, Ridoc can’t tell. How long has he been sitting here?

Ridoc steps into the shower and kneels beside him. Water instantly soaks into the knees of his pants, but he’s used to the cold, being an ice wielder. Regardless, he isn’t focused on that right now, just on making sure Sawyer is okay.

Maybe okay isn’t the right word. There’s clearly something wrong if he’s in the shower fully clothed, and okay might be too lofty a goal for him these days after losing more than half a leg. 

Sawyer blinks a few times, coming back to reality and seeing the soft expression on Ridoc’s face — not pity, but genuine concern and love.

Sawyer had pushed him away for two weeks, pushed everyone away and insisted he’d be fine on his own, but Ridoc is here with him now. He was willing to climb in with him, to sit across from him in the cold water and guide him back into reality. He knew something was wrong, despite Sawyer’s reassurances that he was fine, and he sought him out in hopes of fixing it. 

“Hey,” Ridoc coaxes softly. “Talk to me.”

Sawyer can’t form words. Tears start to slip down his freckled cheeks, mixing with the cold shower water that’s still dripping from every inch of him. 

Ridoc moves closer, until he’s just inches away — hesitant, not wanting to cause him further pain. 

Sawyer closes the gap for him, letting his head drop against Ridoc’s shoulder as he continues to cry, quiet little sniffles that break Ridoc’s heart right in half.

“I know it hurts, Sy. I’m so sorry.”

He wraps the older boy in a hug, not minding the cold water that soaks from Sawyer’s clothes into his. His heart clenches as he realizes how thin Sawyer has gotten without the daily exercise, and without as much food — the healers had said something about the pain tonic reducing appetite and causing nausea, but the squad had been too relieved that he was still alive to properly focus on the instructions they’d been given. 

Ridoc can’t help but berate himself for letting it get this bad. He should have been more careful. He should have checked in on Sawyer more often, ignored the boy’s insistence that he’d be fine in his own room at Basgiath, and that the rest of the squad shouldn’t let him keep them grounded. 

Second squad had agreed without too much protest, knowing that the fight was far from over, and they needed as many trained riders as they could get.

Still, it shouldn’t have come to this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, bringing a hand up to smooth down his wet curls. “We should have been there for you earlier.”

Sawyer doesn’t respond, but his breathing has steadied, the sniffling quieted. He’s still shivering, leaning into Ridoc for warmth — he must have been sitting here for some time if he’s this cold. 

“Let’s get you dried off,” Ridoc coaxes. 

Sawyer nods against his shoulder, taking a breath to brace himself for the discomfort of standing again. 

Ridoc rises to his knees, then his feet, hooking his arms under Sawyer’s to help him up. Sawyer pushes up off the floor, a soft cry parting his lips as the movement sends a needle of pain up his spine.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ridoc soothes, the only thing he can think to say at the moment. “Hold on to me, it’ll take the pressure off.”

Sawyer shifts his weight, making the five steps to the small bench more bearable. 

Ridoc finds a clean-enough towel on the counter, extending it to Sawyer. “Dry your hair if you can. I’m gonna find you some clean clothes, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Sawyer makes the slightest nod of understanding, back to his slow-blinking silence. 

Time has been reduced to the slow drip of water down his face. He doesn’t know how late it is, or how long he had sat in the shower. It’s dark out, but it’s January — it gets dark after four. 

Ridoc is back quickly. Sawyer still hasn’t dried his hair, so he takes the towel back from him, working it through the wet red curls gently. His hair has gotten long enough to cover the tops of his ears. Ridoc would offer to do something about it later, but he’s not sure Sawyer would trust him with the task. Rhi, maybe. 

“Arms up,” Ridoc coaxes.

Sawyer complies, allowing Ridoc to peel the soaked tunic off. It’s unceremoniously dropped to the floor with a quiet splat, replaced with a soft towel that Ridoc wraps around his shoulders.

“Alright. How do you want to do the pants?” Ridoc asks gently. “We’ve seen each other naked before, so I don’t care either way, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable — and I don’t want this to hurt.”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Sawyer says distantly, the first words he’s spoken since Ridoc found him. His voice is a raw whisper, hoarse from disuse. “I can take them off myself if I have something to lean on. Putting new ones on is always harder.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready,” Ridoc offers quietly, holding out two hands. 

Sawyer wavers a bit as he stands, holding onto Ridoc’s right forearm with one hand as he finds his balance, then slowly starts pulling down one side of the waistband, then the other, until they drop to the floor, a wet heap of fabric around his remaining foot. 

Ridoc doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to that sight, if it’ll ever stop feeling like a punch to the gut.

It’s not about you, he reminds himself. However uncomfortable and upset you are about this, Sawyer is probably ten times as much — it’s his body, his life that’s changed forever. 

Ridoc guides him back down onto the bench, kicking the soaked shorts aside, next to the shirt, and looks at Sawyer, trying to read the expression on his face. 

“Do you want a break, or…”

He shakes his head. “Pass me the shirt?”

Ridoc hands him the dry t-shirt he’d found in Sawyer’s room, one of the few clean garments he had left. He doesn’t ask if Sawyer wants help with this part — he gets the feeling that this is probably deeply embarrassing for him, and that he wants to do as much as he can on his own.

Sawyer tugs it over his head, easily putting his arms through the sleeves, and stepping through one leg of the boxers, pulling them up to his knee.

Ridoc extends an arm again, a silent indicator that he’s ready when Sawyer is. 

Sawyer takes another breath, gritting his teeth as he stands, but he seems more steady this time — putting more of his weight on Ridoc, trusting the other boy to hold him up as he dresses himself. 

Back down again. Sawyer takes a second to catch his breath, willing himself not to cry again.

“Shorts too, or…”

Sawyer shakes his head no. He doesn’t want to go through the up-and-down again, and he just wants to sleep. That’s all he’s really done this week, because sleep is the only place he’s comfortable — if you don’t count the nightmares, that is. 

“Okay. Can I look at the bandage?”

Sawyer nods, exhausted but knowing that the wrapping needs to be replaced; it’s soaked, the cotton gauze swollen with water. He definitely wasn’t supposed to bathe with it on, but he wasn’t really in his right mind when he’d dragged himself into the shower, just desperate for any sort of relief from the bone-deep ache and the shooting pains that keep coming whenever he moves.

Ridoc unwraps the dressing gently, keeping one hand on Sawyer’s other leg in an attempt at comfort, and bracing himself for the worst, but trying to maintain a neutral expression on his face. 

It’s not as bad as he’d thought. It doesn’t look infected, and the stitches are still holding the skin together in two intersecting, slightly-wavy lines. They’re probably ready to be removed — he’ll ask about that tomorrow morning, when he takes Sawyer to see the healers.

Ridoc tosses the wet bandages into the trash, reaching under the sink for the basic first aid kit that’s kept in every bathroom in the dorms. There’s enough gauze in there to make a passable re-creation of the neat dressing that had been on it before. It’ll only have to last the night, anyway; the healers will put on a new one in the morning. 

“Is that too tight?” Ridoc asks, looking up at him.

Sawyer shakes his head no, eyes still closed. He’s so tired, even after a day of doing hardly anything.

Ridoc stands, gathering the wet clothes and wringing them out over the sink. He’ll wash them tomorrow — Sawyer is running out of clean clothes, having been pretty much bedbound for the last two and a half weeks and unable to do his own laundry.

“You ready to get back in bed?” — A nod. — “Do you want your crutches, or do you want to lean on me?”

“You,” Sawyer says softly, blinking up at Ridoc. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

Ridoc pushes down the little swell of pride at Sawyer’s choice, draping the boy’s arm across his shoulders and hooking an arm around his waist to hoist him up. He lets Sawyer set the pace for the twenty-foot walk back to his new room, making sure that he’s well-supported. 

Thankfully, Sawyer had never warded his new room, so the door swings open easily, and Ridoc carefully deposits him on the edge of his bed, tossing the still-damp clothes in his laundry basket. 

Looking at the clock on his desk through bleary eyes, Sawyer can see that it’s sometime between ten and eleven. Ten thirty, maybe. A reasonable enough hour to go to sleep.

Ridoc should be going to bed soon, if he wants to get a decent amount of sleep before the standard six a.m. wakeup required of the cadets that hadn’t been permanently injured in the battle — everyone but Sawyer. 

He’s tired of being the exception. He should be out there training with them, not spending his days sleeping in an uncomfortable first-year bed.

Being back on the first floor for the third year in a row has broken him. 

Being in this room all day reminds him of his first first year, when he was one of the only cadets who hadn’t been chosen at Threshing, and thus couldn’t attend most of the classes that everyone else did — leaving him to spend the bigger half of six months entirely alone.

Every hour within these walls is another reminder of his failure. Death by a thousand cuts, or whatever they say. 

“Talk to me,” Ridoc says softly. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice cracking. If Ridoc doesn’t leave soon, if he doesn’t stop looking at him like that, all soft and concerned, Sawyer is going to cry again. The first time was humiliating enough.

Ridoc keeps pushing, deciding yes-or-no questions might be less overwhelming. “Do you want to eat something?”

Sawyer shakes his head no quickly — he definitely doesn’t want food. Even the idea of eating is enough to turn his stomach. At least Ridoc hadn’t seen him puke. 

“Okay. You should probably get some sleep, then.”

Sleep is good. Sleep will numb the pain for a while, and he’s so tired… probably because he’s hardly eaten since he moved out of the infirmary and the healers stopped forcing him to choke down three meals a day. 

That had been torture. 

Sawyer nods, starting to shuffle back from his seat on the edge of the bed. The bed is unmade, as it has been for the last week and a half, so he’s able to scoot under the duvet easily, pulling it up over himself with minimal discomfort.

Ridoc helps him get settled, draping him with an extra blanket, because Sawyer’s skin is still cold to the touch. He quickly pulls his eyes away from the space where Sawyer’s other leg should be, that’s now just flat, only blankets laid over the mattress.

“If there’s anything you need, anything at all, have Sli tell Aotrom, okay?”

Sawyer nods again, the soft cotton of his pillowcase making a whispering sound under his cheek.

Ridoc straightens the books on Sawyer's desk, picking up a few dirty clothing items that Sawyer had dropped — damn tremors caused by that extra-strength pain tonic that he’d been using around the clock — and hadn’t been able to bend down to reach, or even to kick toward the laundry basket. So on the floor they’ve remained, all week — until now.

Sawyer feels a spike of cold move through his chest, his pulse jumping at the thought of Ridoc leaving, telling him goodnight and disappearing for another two weeks.

“Rid?” he asks in a small voice.

The other boy perks up at the sound of his friend speaking. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to sleep over?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment before Sawyer starts to take it back. “Obviously you don’t have to. I just thought it would be nice. The way it used to be, in Aretia.”

If Ridoc catches the panic in Sawyer’s voice, he doesn’t bring it up. “I thought you’d never admit it,” he says with a slow smile that Sawyer can hear, even with his eyes closed. “You miss me.”

It’s unclear if Sawyer can hear the thick guilt covered by Ridoc’s teasing. 

Of course he misses you, Ridoc thinks. You haven’t spoken to him in a week. He needed you, but he didn’t ask for help because he didn’t think you’d care. 

You’re a shitty friend.

“Should I steal some of Imogen’s black nail polish, or do you want to make popcorn and talk about cute boys?”

“Get the fuck out,” Sawyer snorts, and then regrets it immediately — What if Ridoc can’t tell that he’s joking? 

“Alright. GTFO-ing.”

Ridoc closes the door behind him quietly.

Sawyer squeezes his eyes shut, because he knows that if he opens them, the walls will start to press in on him. This room is the same size as the one he’d had in his parents’ home in Luceras, if not bigger, but after spending two weeks in it pretty much non-stop, it feels like a birdcage or a fish tank that he’d been shoved into.

That’s why he’d never warded the door. He already feels trapped here. If he becomes too weak to channel, he’d be trapped for real.

He hasn’t tried to use his signet, or any of the basic magic, since the battle. It’s unclear if he can, but Sli comes and goes in his mind, and that little red string had remained tied to his rib all through the surgery and his delirium afterward, never once fading or faltering, so he should still have access to it, but he might be too weak to do anything significant with it.

When he gets some of his energy back, he’ll try again. Maybe he can do something useful with it. They can park him in a chair and have him make weapons, more of the runed daggers. That way he’d be helping, instead of dragging everyone down. 

That’s exactly what he’d tried not to do, and look where it had landed him. 

Ridoc opens the door again after what’s probably fifteen minutes. He’s pajama-clad, his hair damp from the shower, with a pillow tucked under one arm and his duvet knotted around his shoulders like a cape.

“You came back,” Sawyer murmurs. He’s already half-asleep, his eyes closed and cheek smushed into his pillow. 

“Of course I did. It’s not every day that your adult male best friend asks you for a sleepover.”

Ridoc scoots the desk chair aside, making space for himself to lay down on the small rug there, untying the duvet-cape. 

Sawyer scoots himself over toward the other side of the bed, gritting his teeth. “The floor will fuck up your back. Get up here.”

“If you insist,” Ridoc replies with a grin. 

Sawyer would roll his eyes if it wasn’t such an effort to keep them open, about to jokingly retract his offer — only to wince at the feeling of the mattress shifting underneath him. 

Ridoc apologizes his way under the covers, trying not to jostle him too much. “I’d offer to rock-paper-scissors over who gets to be the little spoon, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

That gets a lazy laugh out of him, finally. 

Ridoc doesn’t think he’s seen Sawyer smile or laugh since before they left Aretia. They’d been in Battle Brief, and Ridoc had made a gods-awful pun around one of Brennan’s serious statements. It had nearly gotten the both of them kicked out of the auditorium from how hard they’d been laughing.

“Thank you for finding me,” Sawyer murmurs. “Probably would have died of hypothermia or something if you hadn’t.”

His hair is nearly dry now, the almost-ginger strands curling up in odd places. Ridoc reaches over to smooth a few of them down, but they spring back up after a few seconds. He keeps doing it anyway. 

“You can thank Sli for that, really. He told Aotrom to tell me that you needed help. He loves you, y’know. And he knows that none of this was your fault.” 

There’s a soft pause. “We all know that you’d be out there with us if you could. It isn’t the same without you, but until you’re healed and you can make yourself a super badass custom prosthetic and fly with us again, we’ll look out for each other. And I’ll help you with whatever you need — I’m really sorry for dropping the ball on that. I was a shitty friend, and there’s no excuse for it, really, but I’ll try my best to make it up to you.”

It’s a lot to process, and Sawyer is too tired to respond to all of it, but he’s able to sum it up in two mumbled words. “Love you.”

Ridoc smiles, moving his hand away from Sawyer’s hair. “I love you too, dude. Get some sleep.”

Later that night, when Sawyer rolls over and tucks himself into Ridoc’s arms, he doesn’t feel cold anymore, and the pain has dulled.

He decides that he wants pancakes for breakfast.

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

It just dawned on me… what if Brennan’s signet is mending because what he wanted most in the world was to help Violet with her pain? They say signets are what the rider is at their core and, despite his many flaws, Brennan loves Violet.

He grew up watching his little sister —someone he should keep safe— always in pain, always breaking, always crying, and it made him wish he could do something about it, so his signet gave him a chance to help her. Because, back then, before the venin and the Battle of Aretia, Brennan was first and foremost a brother, Violet’s brother.

[angstywaifu]

hey sweetie...love ur content btw.....how do you think the fourthwing boys will be after a very bad argument

Oh I like this one, and I have some very solid ideas on how they’d all react. So lets dive in! I am going to do this in the context that you’re in a relationship with them. A/N: If you guys want any more like this, please send them in. I absolutely love doing these.

Bodhi.

I feel like Bodhi would feel bad as soon as you’re not there. He’d start replaying the argument in his head, freaking out he’s probably messed it all up and that you’ll leave him. Pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath as he pulls at his curly hair. I can imagine him finding someone to talk to about what happened to try get some ideas on what he can do to make it better Anyone he asks saying to just go and talk to you, but he’s adamant it won’t be enough because he thinks he’s really fucked up. I see him trying to find a gift to give you as a sign of how bad he feels and to try make it up to you.

Liam.

Sweet Liam. He would be in the same boat as Bodhi where he would feel extremely bad after it and instantly regret how it went. I feel like he would be a bit more calmer than Bodhi about it, being able to formulate a plan on his own on how to show how sorry he was. I can see him making you a little figure or something out of wood as a peace offering. He’d either leave it at your door with a note saying how sorry he was, or he’d hand deliver it depending how confident he was you wouldn’t rip his head off.

Garrick.

As much as I love this man and he will always take top spot out of all the boys for me, we all know he’s going to be moody about it for a while. Especially with a very bad argument. He probably went too far and said something he didn’t entirely mean in the heat of the moment. He’d be in a mood for a while after. Spending heaps of time in the gym or training to try let off some steam. I can see Xaden or Bodhi telling him to pull his head in and fix it. Once this happens and he’s probably thought about it all, he would feel extremely bad. He’d come up to you, tail between his legs like a scolded puppy asking for your forgiveness and he went too far. Man would have some serious grovelling to do after this.

Dain.

Dain for me really depends on the context of the argument. If he think’s he’s in the right you know he isn’t going to feel bad about it. He will stick by his point till his dying breath unless you can give him extremely solid proof he was wrong and can sway him. And even then you’re going to need to constantly prove that to him till he’s fully on your side. He is going to be very stubborn in the aftermath of a bad argument.

Xaden.

I feel like we get a decent view on what he would be like. I think just like Garrick he would probably need some time to cool off after, but not as much time. He’d probably need someone to knock a little sense into him, but I think he would most likely come around on his own once he’s cooled off. I can see him sparing with Liam or Garrick to get his anger out or going off on a supply run to do so. I can also see him being stubborn like Dain depending on the context of the fight. But unlike Dain I could see him being a bit more lenient on his opinion and wanting to work with you on it. But yet again, this would also depend on the context of the fight.

Brennan.

I feel like I’ve lumped all the boys who are a little bit stubborn down the bottom together. Brennan is very caring, and would no doubt feel bad for any fight he has with you. But yet again, depending on the context he’s very likely not going to budge on his opinion. I do think after some time to cool off he would be willing to talk through your side of the argument even if he wasn’t going to change his stance. He’d want to understand where you are coming from to see if there is anything he can do to help make it better for you. He would also do something to make it up to you if he wasn’t going change his stance, attempt to make you dinner or plan something for the two of you.

I’m not as confident on Sawyer and Ridoc, but I’m going to give these a crack and hope you guys like this.

Sawyer.

As stated above, I’m not as confident on his character. I really need to do a reread to get a better grasp on him. But we do see how caring he can be. I mean the man went all out on trying to learn sign language to talk to Jessinia (even if he stupidly went to Ridoc for help on this). So I feel like we’re going to get a very similar outcome to Bodhi and Liam where he will feel bad about it and will 100% do something to make it up to you. This man seems like he’s all about putting in the effort for someone he’s with.

Ridoc.

I won’t deny this is the one I’m the least sure on. I think we could put him in the feels bad about it basket. He’d also probably be completely oblivious and say you were over reacting, leading to Rhi smacking him across the head while she tells him he’s an idiot. I can see him going all out on some dramatic plan to apologise to you and it probably falling apart completely and being a complete and utter mess.

[nickeverdeen]

Not saying “I love you too” to the Fourth Wing characters before they leave

Violet Sorrengail

Violet’s mind would immediately race, wondering if something is wrong but trying to keep her cool

She would try to brush it off, telling herself it’s not a big deal, but the hurt would linger

Throughout the day, she’d find herself distracted, replaying the moment in her head

She might overanalyze every interaction leading up to it, questioning if she said or did something wrong

She’d send a check-in later, casually asking if you’re okay, trying not to sound too worried.

She’d confide in Rhiannon about it, seeking advice on whether she should be concerned

Violet’s insecurities would flare up slightly, making her wonder if you’re distancing yourself

She’d miss you more than usual during the day, longing for reassurance

The next time she leaves, she might hesitate before saying “I love you,” waiting to see if you say it first

Violet would gently ask you about it, trying to get to the root of the issue

She might have trouble sleeping, her mind not letting go of the small interaction

She might subtly distance herself, unsure of where you both stand.

Violet might subtly seek reassurance in other ways, like asking if you’re happy with her

Despite the worry, she’d find herself doodling your name absentmindedly

After you finally talk about it and reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a huge weight lift off her shoulders

Xaden Riorson

Xaden would maintain a stoic expression, not letting on that it bothered him

Internally, he’d feel a mix of confusion and frustration, but he’d suppress it

He might briefly wonder if he’s to blame, questioning if he did something to cause it

Xaden wouldn’t talk about it with anyone, keeping his feelings bottled up

He’d become extra protective, channeling his emotions into making sure you’re safe

In his mind, he’d see this as a test of loyalty, waiting to see if it’s a one-time thing or a pattern

He’d throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from the lingering doubt

Xaden might subtly monitor your behavior, looking for other signs of distance

Despite his tough exterior, he’d deeply long for your reassurance

He might start to feel a bit of fear, though he wouldn’t show it

He’d put up a colder exterior, trying to protect himself from potential hurt

Xaden might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection

He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty

He’d show his care through protective gestures, even if he’s feeling unsure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection

Liam Mairi

Liam would be immediately worried, thinking something might be wrong

He’d probably ask you directly if everything’s okay, his concern clear

If you brush it off, he’d try to reassure you softly, even if he’s still a bit uneasy

He’d be extra affectionate the next time he sees you, trying to make up for the missed words

His protective instincts would kick in, making him even more attentive to your needs

He might casually mention it to a close friend, seeking advice on how to handle it

Liam would keep a subtle watch on your mood, making sure you’re truly okay

He’d go out of his way to do something nice for you, wanting to see you smile

He’d worry that you might be pulling away, even if there’s no real reason

Liam would become even more supportive, trying to show you how much he cares

He might plan a small surprise, hoping it will cheer you up and bring you closer

He’d have a heartfelt conversation with you, wanting to clear the air

He might have trouble sleeping, his mind occupied with thoughts of you

After you talk and reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worries melting away

Rhiannon Matthias

Rhiannon would be confused at first, not understanding why you didn’t say it back

She’d start to doubt herself, wondering if she did something to upset you

She’d subtly check on you throughout the day, making sure you’re not upset

She’d be extra kind and gentle with you, hoping to smooth over any potential issues

Rhiannon would definitely overthink the situation, replaying it in her mind

She might seek comfort in small gestures, like holding your hand or cuddling with you

Rhiannon would feel a bit insecure, wondering if you’re losing interest

She might write you a sweet note, hoping to bring a smile to your face

She’d worry that something has changed between you, even if it’s just in her head

Rhiannon would be extra thoughtful, trying to anticipate your needs and make you happy

She might start to subtly distance herself, afraid of getting hurt

She’d have nervous energy, fidgeting more than usual when she’s around you

Once you reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a wave of relief, her usual confidence returning

Dain Aetos

Dain would be immediately concerned, thinking something might be wrong

He’d ask you directly if everything’s okay, his tone serious and caring

Dain would go into overprotective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

He’d plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right

Dain would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated

He’d reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares

Dain would worry internally, even if he doesn’t show it on the outside

He’d subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care

He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you

Dain would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs

He might ask again later if everything’s okay, just to make sure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away

Imogen

Imogen would be confused at first, not understanding why you didn’t say it back

She’d play it off casually, but the confusion would linger in her mind

Imogen would subtly keep an eye on you, looking for signs that something’s wrong

She wouldn’t push you to talk about it, respecting your space

Imogen might give you a bit more space, thinking you might need it

She’d worry in silence, not wanting to burden you with her concerns

Imogen would be extra careful with her words and actions, trying not to upset you

She’d subtly seek reassurance from you, hoping to feel closer to you

Imogen would feel conflicted, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but also feeling uneasy

Doesn’t talk to anyone about it as this is her personal business

She might start to subtly distance herself, unsure of what’s going on

Once you reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a wave of relief, her worries melting away

Jack Barlowe

Jack would feel immediate annoyance, wondering why you didn’t say it back

He’d mask his insecurity with a sarcastic comment, trying to play it off

Jack might overcompensate by being overly affectionate the next time he sees you

He’d seek validation from you, wanting to make sure you still care

Jack wouldn’t talk about it directly, keeping his feelings bottled up

He’d feel internal frustration, not understanding why it bothered him so much

Jack might make sarcastic comments, trying to cover up his feelings

He’d go into protective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

Jack would throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from his feelings

He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty

He might start to feel a bit of resentment, though he wouldn’t show it

Jack might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection

He’d show his care through protective gestures, even if he’s feeling unsure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection

Sawyer

Sawyer would play it off with a joke, not wanting to make it awkward

Despite his playful exterior, he’d feel a sting of disappointment

He might bring it up later in a casual way, just to see if you’re okay

Sawyer would keep things light-hearted, not wanting to put pressure on you

Later, when he’s alone, he’d overthink the situation, wondering if he did something wrong

The next time he sees you, he’d be extra affectionate, hoping to make up for whatever he did

He might check in with a Ridoc, casually asking if you’re okay

Despite his calm demeanor, he’d worry that you’re upset with him

Sawyer would be extra attentive, trying to gauge your mood and see if anything’s off

He’d plan a fun outing, hoping to reconnect and make sure you’re okay

Sawyer would avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light

He’d subtly look for signs that you’re still interested in him, even if it’s just in your actions

He’d feel a bit of internal conflict, wanting to know what’s wrong but not wanting to push you

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a wave of relief, his playful nature returning full force

Ridoc

Ridoc would immediately joke about you not saying it, trying to lighten the mood

He’d briefly wonder if you were joking or if you meant it seriously

Ridoc would pretend not to care, brushing it off with a laugh

Despite his outward calm, he’d think about it later, wondering if something’s up

He might bring it up in a light-hearted way later, asking if everything’s okay

Ridoc would tease you gently about it, hoping to get a reaction

The next time he sees you, he’d be extra playful, trying to keep things light

Ridoc would worry in silence, not wanting to make a big deal out of it

He’d keep things casual, not wanting to pressure you into explaining

Ridoc might subtly check in with you more often, making sure you’re okay

He’d plan a fun day together, hoping to reconnect and make you laugh

Ridoc would feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy

He’d avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light.

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a wave of relief, his usual playful self returning

Garrick

Garrick would feel immediate concern, thinking something might be wrong

He’d ask you directly if everything’s okay, his tone serious and caring

Garrick would go into overprotective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

He’d plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right

Garrick would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated

He’d reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares

Garrick would worry internally, even if he doesn’t show it on the outside

He’d subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care

He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you

Garrick would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs

He might ask again later if everything’s okay, just to make sure

Garrick would become even more protective, making sure you’re safe and happy

He’d feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away.

[fireheartpages]

time of my life | b.d.

masterlist

notes: my brain does things on its own sometimes and i don’t know when to shut the fuck up most of the time, and i have not been able to stop thinking about this little work i made. so although i said it would only be five parts, ive officially made a multi-part, multi-chapter fic because i don’t know when to stop! the series name and every part name is taken from a song off of the dirty dancing soundtrack.

part one & two cover fourth wing, part three & four cover iron flame. tried to keep them all even in length, or as close to it as i could. each part can be read as a stand alone series, but i do recommend reading all in chronological order!

warnings: warnings will be listed at the top of every chapter in the notes. here’s a compiled list of warnings for the whole series as an over view: feminine reader using she/her pronouns, she also has a nickname (dirty dancing inspired stolen) and a last name for continuity purposes, canon-typical violence, mentions of death, allusions to suicide, character death, reader has psoriasis (if rebecca yarros can put her chronic illness in her story so can i), severe daddy issues leading to issues with self worth. i make up a lot of stuff about the empyrean universe as well and do my best writing while tipsy so

part one: say you’ll be my darlin’?

other plans

terrible idea

enough

free falling

survived

part two: big girls don’t cry

never planned on

interlude

part three: the magic between you and i

part four: she’s taken my heart

[spnhunter4life]

Good Morning

Summary: Ridoc is dying to share the latest gossip he's just discovered about a certain squadmate or two.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry in advance for the somewhat lengthy note here. Don't feel obligated to read the whole thing. So, I'm back and writing again! Not only is this my first fic back after nearly 6 months, but it's my first Fourth Wing fic! It is also my first time writing for anything other than Supernatural. After finishing these books I did the only logical thing and started searching out fanfiction to cope with the very real Fourth Wing hangover I was dealing with, and I was a little disappointed that there aren't more Liam fics out there since he is by far my favorite character. So I guess this is me, getting a start on putting more Liam fics out into the world. You're welcome? Maybe? Hopefully? Anyway, this fic is mostly just a lot of banter between the squad. Writing this kind of friend dynamic doesn't come super easily to me, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it too! (Also, big thank you to anyone who actually read this whole thing!)

Masterlist

“Good morning!” Ridoc chirped with the biggest, most knowing grin on his face I’d ever seen. I glared daggers at him as I took my seat at the table next to Violet, Liam setting his plate down and sitting next to me.

His cheerful greeting was widely ignored, acknowledged only by Sawyer who managed little more than a grunt in reply.

Undeterred by this lackluster response, Ridoc continued cheerfully, “It is a great morning, isn’t it? What do you think, Rhi?” 

I continued my glaring, but Liam merely rolled his eyes.

“I think it would be better if you weren’t being so loud,” Rhiannon, who had the misfortune of sitting next to him, grumbled.

“See? Rhiannon agrees,” Ridoc continued, either not listening to her answer or just ignoring it in favor of his obvious goal. “What about you, Violet? Having a good morning?”

Violet looked at Ridoc a little warily, catching on to his tone. “I suppose so,” she agreed.

Sawyer, who was also catching on, began to look suspiciously around the room before focusing back on our table. “What’s going on, Ridoc?” He asked.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” Ridoc replied in a tone that was far from casual. “But since you ask, you know who I hear is having a particularly good morning?” That knowing smile was back, but toned down into more of a smirk than an all out grin.

“Ridoc,” I warned since my glaring evidently hadn’t made my point.

“I heard Sam saying he saw Jesse coming out of Avery’s room this morning.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders and everyone else rolled their eyes.

“That’s old news,” Sawyer said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a great morning for them,” Ridoc countered.

Conversation seemingly over, I turned to Violet.

“Hey, are you still available to help me study for that history test tonight?” I asked her.

“Yeah, of course,” she immediately agreed. “I’ve got some useful tips to help you memorize-”

“You know who else is having a great morning?” Ridoc cut in. My glare returned full force and I kicked him under the table. He yelped and Sawyer looked curiously between us.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” He asked.

“Ridoc caught me kissing Y/N this morning and apparently has nothing better to do than gossip about it,” Liam said, cutting off the ensuing battle of wills and drama before it could really start. Everyone gaped at him. I saw slightly squinted eyes and tilted heads as if they were replaying his words, sure they’d heard him wrong.

“Wait. Seriously?” Rhiannon was the one to break the silence, a grin slowly forming on her face.

I shot Liam a half hearted betrayed look and sighed. “Yes, really!” Ridoc said excitedly before I could say the exact same thing, albeit in a much less enthusiastic tone. It’s not that I didn’t want them to know, it’s that I didn’t want them to know yet. The truth was, we’d been together for just over a week now, and while I was loving it, I wasn’t ready to make the best thing I had going public knowledge to be gossiped about.

“You know how Liam’s been giving Y/N sparring lessons before breakfast?” He asked. While I hadn’t been performing poorly on the mat by any stretch of the imagination, I still had lots of room for improvement and had asked Liam to help me. Those lessons, those quiet times we had together with no one else around were what finally pushed us together. Turns out we’d both been pining for quite some time. 

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, a not so subtle push for more information.

“Well I was up early this morning and decided I’d go see if they could use my help.” This earned a snort from Rhi. “Anyway,” he continued, brushing off the wordless comment about the state of his own fighting skills, “I walked into the room and, what do you know? Turns out ‘training’ was just code for making out.”

“It was not!” I objected, a little too loudly. Several heads turned our direction and I felt my face heat. “He’s really been helping me,” I continued in a quieter voice. Liam, who was usually my go to for help in an argument of any kind, was apparently too busy being pleased with himself to back me up. I could see him fighting the smug smile threatening to take over his face. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.

“So was this a heat of the moment, one time thing, or what happened? You know we need details!” Violet prompted.

“Heat of the moment?” I asked, eyeing Liam as I remembered his arms around me as he encouraged me to break his hold. His eyes heated as he remembered too. “Yes. One time thing? No.”

“So how long has this been going on for?” Rhi demanded.

“Barely more than a week,” Liam answered. “And we were going to tell you. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

“You know what? I don’t even care that you didn’t tell us,” Violet assured us. “I’m just so happy to see you two finally admitting you’re into each other.”

“Yeah,” Rhi agreed. “To be honest, all the obvious staring and longing looks were getting a little old. I was about ready to step in and do something about it.”

“Like what?” I asked warily. She wasn’t one to hold back or do things the easy, gentle way, so if she truly had been planning something, then I’m glad we beat her to the punch.

“I don’t know. Kiss Liam to make you jealous. Find someone dumb enough to kiss you to make Liam jealous. Ridoc, maybe.” 

“Hey!” Ridoc protested at being called dumb, but it was a token protest at best. We all knew he would’ve done it with very little prompting.

“Get a ridiculous, teenage version of truth or dare going and either have you kiss each other or force you to admit your feelings,” she continued. “Or maybe just beat you both around the head and tell you how oblivious you were both being.”

“My money’s on the last option,” Sawyer muttered, loudly enough that we all heard him. I was inclined to agree. The other options she’d listed were not really her style. She preferred a more direct approach.

“Well, luckily for us, there will be no beating necessary,” Liam said. 

Ridoc grinned. “Au contraire, my friend. It sounds like some beating was very necessary. Unless you’re going to change your mind and tell me that training was just an excuse to make out after all.”

I huffed in exasperation and Liam shook his head, a fond smile on his face.

“If all we were doing was making out, why would we even come up with an excuse? Why would we not just spend the night together? It would be a lot simpler,” I pointed out.

“It would be simpler, wouldn’t it?” That ridiculous grin was still firmly plastered on his face. A quick look around the table confirmed that the rest of our friends were wearing similar smiles.

“Something to keep in mind,” Liam chuckled. “But in the meantime, I think you’ll all be quite impressed with Y/N’s improvements at our next squad training session tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah?” Violet asked with a sly grin. “Been putting her through her paces, have you?”

Ridoc choked on his water and started violently coughing to expel it from his lungs. Rhiannon thumped him on the back as she snickered.

Liam’s eyes sparked in surprise and then the corner of his mouth quirked up in a rarely seen – and unfairly attractive – mischievous grin. “Why, Violet? You thinking about joining us?” I could practically see the snarky retort forming in her mind, but just before she could voice it, Liam continued. “I’m a little preoccupied with Y/N, of course, but I could always ask Xaden to help you out.”

Violet turned red at the mention of the wingleader.

“Yes, Violet,” I grinned. “You do love seeing him without a shirt on.” I couldn’t help but reference the way she had openly stared at him yesterday while he and Garrick sparred.

“Oh please,” Rhi scoffed. “As if we’ve never seen you ogling Mairi when his shirt’s off.”

Liam turned a surprised look on me, eyebrow raised in question. I shrugged. There was no point hiding it from him anymore. “Guilty as charged.”

Liam’s smile turned back to smug and I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s not exactly news to you that you’re attractive.”

“And that means I’m not supposed to like knowing that you’ve been looking?” He challenged. Then he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Or are you telling me it doesn’t do something to you when you catch me looking at you that way?”

My face felt like it was on fire with how quickly the blood rushed to it. I whipped my head around to stare at him incredulously, surprised he would make such a comment right in front of our friends. They hadn’t heard him of course, but their knowing smirks said enough about their ability to guess at what had been said.

“I thought we were teasing Violet now,” I managed to choke out. Liam’s thumb rubbed soothingly over my knee in silent apology, but the gleam in his eye told me he wasn’t sorry for making the comment, only that there were other people around.

“Her infatuation with Riorson is old news. This is much more interesting,” Ridoc answered.

“Interesting or not, if we’re going to make it to Battle Brief on time, we’d better get going,” Sawyer informed us. I glanced around the room and realized he was right. The morning’s usual mass exit was starting as everyone hurried to make it to class. We all stood up and followed them.

“Seriously, though,” Sawyer said, dropping back to walk beside us for a moment. “I’m happy for you two.” There were echoes of agreement from the other three walking directly ahead of us.

“Thanks,” Liam and I answered at the same time. 

This day hadn’t started out quite how I wanted, what with our friends finding out about us, but I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing. A weight I hadn’t even realized was there was lifted off of my chest with the relief of no longer having to keep a secret from our squadmates. 

I couldn’t seem to keep the smile off my face the whole way to Battle Brief. When I joined the rider’s quadrant, I was prepared for hard work and sacrifice and spending my days miserable and alone. Instead, I had a wonderful group of friends that would do anything for me. I was lucky enough to be in a relationship with the most incredible man I’d ever met. And I was happy, I realized. Happier than I’d been in a very long time. Maybe ever. 

I reached for Liam’s hand under the table. He entwined our fingers without question, and I knew he would hold on until the need to take notes required us to let go. I couldn’t be upset with Ridoc anymore about outing us to the squad. I was too grateful to be a part of this little family we had all created together. I smiled to myself as I remembered his over the top greeting this morning in preparation for teasing us and how annoyed I had been. He was right, though. It was a good morning.

[fourthwingfan]

Madness Masterlist

Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 - coming soon

[nomie-11]

Chapter 3 - Secrets at Sunrise*

<- previous part | masterlist | series masterlist | next part ->

“Where are you going?” Violet’s voice slipped out in a whisper before she could stop herself. 

Genevieve froze mid-step, the soft crunch of gravel under her boots the only sound in the still night. She spun around, her face unreadable in the shadows, though Violet sensed the flicker of annoyance. 

“I’m sorry?” Genevieve’s whisper was sharp, a quiet challenge. Violet immediately regretted her question but pressed on anyway. 

“I asked, where are you going?” Violet shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the unease in her voice. Genevieve looked her up and down scanning Violet, silently begging her to back down. 

Gotcha, Genevieve thought, her lips twitching ever so slightly. 

“I’m going to watch the sunrise,” Genevieve answers, her voice steady, almost amused. “And you’re not going to tell anyone.” 

Violet frowned, unsure whether to be offended or intrigued. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, half taunting, her tone suggesting "You don’t know me at all—I’ll tell whoever I want.”

Genevieve stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Because,” she said, her voice soft but cutting. “I see you wrapping that pretty little knee of yours. You’re hurt, and doesn’t that make you an easy target?” She let the words sink in as Violet’s eyes widened in surprise. “I won’t breathe a word, if you keep my secret. I like to watch the sunrise. Simple as that.” 

Violet opened her mouth, hesitating, then asked, “Why do you like to watch the sunrise?” There was no taunt in her voice this time—just curiosity. 

Genevieve rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Why do you think? Stop asking questions. It’s simple. You tell, I tell. Or we keep each other’s secrets. Yes or no?”

Violet bit her lip, forcing herself to swallow her response. “Yes,” She muttered. “I’ll keep your secret.”

“Great!” Genevieve’s sudden smile was unsettling, genuine but fleeting. “See you at morning formation. And when you wrap that knee of yours, make sure you tuck in the end of the wrap. It’s too easy for someone to grab.” 

With that, the smile vanished from her face as quickly as it had appeared. She gave Violet a final glance, scanning the rows of beds, then disappearing into the darkness without another word. 

—----------------------------------------

The sky was still a blanket of deep indigo, the kind of dark that clung to the horizon before dawn. Morning dew shimmered on the front lawn of Basgiath, catching the faint starlight. It was so quiet, Genevieve could hear her own breath mingling with the night air. The moisture on the ground made her boots slick, and for a fleeting moment, as she climbed the stone wall to the top of the dormitory tower, she feared she might slip. The stones were coated in a thin layer of water, glistening like frost. The windowsills she passed were slick as well, threatening to betray her with the smallest misstep. It wasn’t a high climb, but the thought of falling, of losing her grip without even catching the first light of sunrise gnawed at her. 

As she neared the top, the night sky began to soften. The dark hues gave way to shades of lavender and pale blue. The horizon glowed faintly, signaling the inevitable arrival of the sun. It was then that Genevieve saw him—a silhouette standing on the roof, a figure cut out against the shifting sky. She couldn’t make out his features, but his stance was enough to make her stomach drop. There was something about the way he stood, so still, that made her instinctively wary. Fight or flight stirred within her, but before she could decide whether to retreat down the ladder or confront him, he spoke, his voice smooth but unmistakably commanding. 

“What are you doing up here, first-year?”

That voice. Of course, it had to be him. Xaden Riorson. She mentally groaned, feeling a mixture of irritation and dread settle in her chest. He always had a way of appearing when she least wanted him to. 

“I could ask the same of you, wingleader,” she shot back, surprising herself with the steadiness in her tone. She sounded almost defiant, like she was talking to General Sorrengail instead of the infamous Xaden Riorson. 

He raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see it in the dim light. His posture shifted, radiating authority. “I thought I asked first,” he said, his words dripping with the kind of superiority only someone in his position could muster. “And you shouldn’t talk back to those above you.” 

Genevieve resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His presence was as suffocating as ever, and the power dynamics at Basgiath were always exhausting. “I’m watching the sunrise,” she answered bluntly, her voice laced with mild annoyance. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, after all. “Is that what you wanted to hear, wingleader?” 

Xaden’s dark eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. His gaze was sharp, almost calculating, as though he were piecing together a puzzle. The riders in this quadrant didn’t get up early for trivial things like sunrises. They used every spare moment to rest, knowing full well how grueling the days were. No one with any sense would climb a rock wall slick with dew to see the sun rise. No one, that is, except her. 

“Most first years would rather be resting,” he said slowly, his tone tinged with suspicion. “Yet here you are, alone, watching the sunrise. Why?” 

Genevieve met his glaze evenly, refusing to flinch under his intense scrutiny. It felt as though he could see through her, as though his eyes were searching for something deeper, some hidden motivation. “You can’t afford to miss a sunrise if you don’t know when the next one will come,” she replied, her voice steady, almost philosophical. “And maybe I prefer the peace of the sunrise over the tension of the dorm halls.” 

Xaden’s expression shifted, a hint of something darker passing over his features. “Peace,” she said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is a luxury you can’t afford at Basgiath. Especially if you keep making enemies.” 

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “Who says I’m making enemies?” she shot back, the words sharp. “I’m just minding my own business.” 

And trying to carry out my mission. 

Xaden’s lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent a chill down her spine. His eyes, flecked with gold, gleamed in the low light of dawn. “Careful, first year,” he warned, his voice a whisper of amusement mixed with something else she couldn’t quite name. “Minding your own business doesn’t mean the rest of us will mind ours.” 

Genevieve’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t back down. “Is that a threat?” she asked, voice hard. 

His smirk widened, but his tone softened, almost gentle now, though the tension between them was palpable. “No,” he whispered, stepping closer. “It’s a warning. You have no idea what you’re playing with.” 

Her eyes narrow. What does he know?

“And do you?” she countered, her pulse quickening. There was something about the way he looked at her, like he was peeling back layers of armor she’d spent years crafting. 

For a brief moment, Xaden didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on her face, taking in the scar that ran from her jaw to just beneath her eye. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. She wasn’t just a first year cadet. She was someone who had been through hell and returned, a kindred spirit in a way. 

“I’m playing a game of survival, cadet,” he finally said, voice low, almost reflective. 

“My name is Genevieve Hale, not ‘cadet.’” She snapped, frustrated with being reduced to nothing more than a rank, than a number. 

“I know,” he replied, a strange glint in his eyes. “I knew your sister.” 

The revelation struck her like a blow to the chest, leaving her momentarily speechless. Before she could respond, Xaden turned and walked toward a hidden door at the side of the tower. Just as he reached it, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. 

“Oh, and just for future reference,” he added casually, “don’t climb the side of the tower. There’s a staircase for a reason.” 

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Genevieve alone on the rooftop with nothing but the fading stars and the slowly rising sun. The dawn had finally broken, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, but the warmth it brought did little to chase away the chill that Xaden’s words had left behind. 

—---------------------------------------------

The reading of the death roll feels hurried to Genevieve, too rushed for her liking. These are names of the dead—people whose lives were snuffed out in an instant. Yet, they are only granted the briefest of acknowledgments before being commended to Malek, the god of death, for the small mistakes they made. Maybe they missed a step on a slick stone bridge, or maybe fear caught up with them at the wrong moment. Either way, their fates are sealed, and now their names are burned into fleeting memory, only to fade just as quickly. The moment is somber, but it passes almost as swiftly as the names themselves. The cadets are dismissed soon after, the wingleaders and squad leaders shepherding the first years with an almost mechanical precision. For the second and third years, the movements are routine, practiced—this chaos is second nature to them. 

“First years, at least one of you better have memorized your academic schedule but now!” Dain Aetos, Genevieve’s squad leader’s voice booms, carrying over the squad with an air of forced authority that Genevieve can’t help but find slightly ridiculous. She fights the urge to roll her eyes as he continues, “Stick together. I expect every single one of you to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.” 

Sparring. Genevieve’s heart skips with excitement at the word. Sparring? I forgot about that! Genevieve smiles, her time is coming. This is where she excels. 

Meanwhile, Violet, standing just a few feet away, is having the opposite reaction. Sparring? Fuck! I forgot about that. A grimace pulls at her features, and she looks visibly uncomfortable. Rhiannon, caught between the two, shifts awkwardly, trying to manage the whirlwind of emotions on either side of her. Genevieve’s bubbling excitement is more than Rhiannon could ever imagine being on her face, and Violet’s distress couldn’t be more obvious. 

“Sawyer!” Dain calls out, interrupting the moment. Sawyer, a repeat first year, snaps his head up at the sound of his name. Genevieve has heard the rumors—Sawyer failed to bond with a dragon during last year’s Threshing and now faces the grueling ordeal of repeating the first year all over again. Genevieve can’t imagine anything worse. She’d rather die than endure such humiliation. 

“I’ll get them there,” Sawyer says confidently, stepping up as the rest of the squad prepares to move. Dain and the upperclassmen stay behind as the first years break formation, leaving the second and third years behind. Now, all eyes are on Sawyer. 

“We’ve got twenty minutes to get to class,” he shouts at the group. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Grab your stuff and don’t be late.” Without waiting for anyone’s response, Sawyer strides ahead, leaving the rest of them scrambling to keep up. 

“That must be tough,” Rhiannon muses, glancing between Violet and Genevieve, who still refuse to directly speak to each other without her presence as a buffer. “Going through all this again, after anything.”

“Better than being dead,” quips a voice from behind them. Genevieve turns to see a smart-ass brunette from their quad, the first to put into words what she herself was thinking. A grin tugs at her lips—she likes him already. 

“Ridoc Gamlyn,” he replies, falling into step beside her. “You’re Genevieve Hale?” 

She nods, biting her tongue from saying something else stupid. 

“That’s true,” Violet chimes in unexpectedly, clearly agreeing with Ridoc’s earlier statement. 

“I heard that if a first year survives Threshing without bonding, they get another chance if they want it,” Rhiannon adds, still trying to engage Violet. “Isn’t that insane? They could just as easily die the second time around.” 

Her comment hangs in the air, and at some point, Violet slips out of the conversation with a quiet murmur, but Genevieve barely notices. Her attention is elsewhere. 

“Would you rather drop out?” Ridoc asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

Genevieve lets out a short laugh. “As if that was ever an option once you’re here.” 

Their conversation flows easily, without the tension that Violet’s presence seems to bring. Genevieve feels the squad beginning to gel, to form something cohesive and solid. In this moment, she knows that they’ll make it—that this group will stick together. It feels safe, steady, like no one here is going to die anytime soon. For the first time in a long time, Genevieve allows herself a sliver of hope. 

—---------------------------------------

Geneiveve’s eyes swept across the sparring gym, meticulously noting who was present and who wasn’t. She labeled each of the squads, organizing them first by the amount of students per year—one group of first, second, and third years from each wing from various squads. Among them was Jack Barlowe, the boy Violet couldn’t seem to escape. Genevieve expected a fierce match between the two of them, especially since today’s challenges were chosen by the cadets themselves, and she was a Sorrengail—a thoroughly created and purposefully prepared weapon. 

Today was just for assessments, but Violet’s anxiety was tangible, almost electric in the air. An off putting contrast to the preconceived notion Genevieve held of her.

”You’re really nervous about this?” Rhiannon asked, her surprise genuine. “I mean, you’re a Sorrengail, you’d think a Sorrengail kid would be bred for battle.” 

Exactly my thoughts, Genevieve confirmed in her own head, but didn’t say it out loud. 

“My sister and brother were,” Violet replied, her voice edged with frustration. “I was trained to be a scribe. That’s why I’m so good at battle briefings, history, physics, everything that’s based on knowledge. But hand-to-hand? That’s where I suck.”

“I could offer some tips on surviving combat training,” Sawyer chimed in from Rhiannon’s other side. “History’s not really my thing, though.” 

Rhiannon’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “How about a trade? We help you with combat, and you help us with history. Deal, Sawyer? Violet?”

“Absolutely,” Sawyer said, extending his hand. 

“Deal,” Violet agreed, though her throat tightened as her hand met his. She half-smiled, her mind still half-worried. “But I think I’m getting the better end of this.”

Sawyer turned to Genevieve, who had been standing nearby, quietly observing the conversation. “What about you, Genevieve? Are you in?” 

“No,” she replied flatly, her attention fixed on the mats. 

“Oh, come on, you must struggle with something,” Rhiannon teased. “What about battle brief? You didn’t say a word in class. Violet could help.” 

My stamina is more than lacking right now, maybe I should– no! Genevieve, what are you thinking?

“No,” Genevieve repeated, more firmly. “I’m not asking Sorrengail for help, and I’m not training her.” 

Sawyer and Rhiannon exchanged glances, sensing the rising tension between the two girls. 

“What if I need combat help?” Rhiannon pressed, her lie barely convincing. “I could help you with physics. I saw how lost you were in class.” 

Genevieve rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny it. Physics had always been a struggle, and Rhiannon’s offer was more than tempting. She sighed, rubbing her forehead in annoyance before giving in. 

“Fine. But Violet’s your responsibility.” 

Rhiannon and Sawyer exchanged satisfied nods, saying in unison, “Deal.” 

The moment was interrupted when Rhiannon was called to spar with a boy named Tynan, and Violet was paired against a second-year with striking pink hair. As they left for their matches, Violet whispered a prayer under her breath, hoping today wouldn’t be the day she met her end. 

Genevieve remained, her focus unwavering as she waited for her own match to be called. 

“Hale! Barlowe! Third mat!” came Emeterrior’s call, snapping her to attention. 

Jack Barlowe, despite already having fought earlier, looked ready for another round. He stood at the edge of the mat, grinning with overconfidence, his body loose as he stretched. He’d already killed one opponent today, and his newfound reputation for brutality hung in the air like a dark cloud. But Genevieve wasn’t shaken. 

Her muscles coiled with anticipation, her heart hammering a relentless rhythm in her chest. She lived for this—the clash of fists, the thrill of the fight. She rolled her shoulders, loosening up as she locked eyes with Jack. His grin widened, a mockery of what was to come. 

“Ready to dance, traitor?” he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. 

Genevieve didn’t respond. Her silence was her answer as she shifted into a fighting stance, light on her feet. The signal was given. 

Jack struck first, a quick jab aimed at her head. Genevieve dodged it effortlessly, countering with a swift low kick. He blocked it with his shin, the force of the impact vibrating through both of them. They circled each other like two predators stalking their prey, exchanging blows without yielding ground. 

Jack had power, each of his hits packed with raw strength, but Genevieve was faster. She wove through his attacks, ignoring the thrum of her heart and how out of breath she was, slipping just out of reach with each lunge. Jack tried to grab her, but she spun away, delivering a sharp punch to his ribs. He grunted, momentarily winded, but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing. 

“You’re out of breath,” he muttered through gritted teeth, taunting her. “It’s not even been ten minutes. You can’t keep this up.” 

He advanced again, more calculated this time. Genevieve could see his tactic—he was trying to corner her, limit her space to maneuver. She let him think he was succeeding, catching a few fleeting breaths as she backed up toward the edge of the mat. His confidence swelled, and as he prepared for what he believed would be the decisive blow, she made her move. 

In a fluid spin, Genevieve swept her leg low, knocking Jack’s feet out from under him. He hit the mat hard, breath rushing from his lungs. She followed with a precise knee to his chest, pinning him down, her forearm pressing into his throat. His eyes widened in shock, the weight of defeat settling in. 

Leaning in close, Genevieve’s breathless voice was cold, barely more than a whisper. “If you ever even think about going after Sorrengail, I’ll make sure this mat is the least of your worries.”

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Jack’s chest heaved as he struggled for breath, his gaze locked onto hers, searching for any sign of mercy. But there was none. She was unrelenting, her grip firm. 

Finally, with a tap on the mat, he surrendered. 

Genevieve stepped back, releasing him. Jack coughed, scrambling up to his feet, his pride more battered than his body. She extended a hand to help him up, but he ignored it, mumbling, “you’re lucky this ended before your lack of air caught up to you.” 

“And you’re weak,” she shot back, her voice sharp as steel. “Next time you call someone a traitor, make sure you can back it up.” 

As she walked off, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Rhiannon shared a glance, none of the daring to say a word as she passed. 

“Remind me never to get on her bad side,” Sawyer murmured, still processing the scene. 

“Poor Violet,” Rhiannon added, imagining what awaited her friend in the upcoming challenges. 

Ridoc grinned. “Was it just me, or was that kind of hot?” 

Rhiannon cast a side-eye at the boy standing next to her. “You’re weird.” 

—---------------------------------

On the rooftop the next morning, Genevieve sat alone, a small, rare smile tugging at her lips. Above her, the sky was still painted with stars, shimmering clear against the deep blue of pre-dawn, and a silence enveloped her in a way that felt almost sacred. The world lay in a still slumber, save for the gentle calls of morning doves echoing from the treetops. This quiet moment felt like a glimpse of peace—a fleeting grace amid all the turmoil, a reminder of something she’d nearly forgotten.

The creak of the stairwell door broke the silence, followed by the soft thud of heavy footsteps. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. 

“I didn’t realize this would become a morning ritual, Hale.” Xaden’s deep voice broke the silence, and he settled beside her, leaving enough space for comfort. Together, they dangled their feet over the edge of the roof, letting the wind brush past them like a shared secret. 

She shrugged lighty. “Neither did I.” Her voice was soft, stripped of its usual edge, as if it, too, was still waking up. 

They sat in silence for a while, the sky brightening with every passing second, casting the world in a gentle glow. 

“What happened yesterday, on the mat?” he asked, his voice almost hesitant. 

Genevieve’s expression tightened. “Barlowe called me a traitor,” she muttered, bitterness lining her words. “I’ve done nothing to betray Navarre. Whatever my father did or my sister had done, I was kept in the dark.” 

Xaden gave a slow nod, his gaze distant. “Yeah, it’s hard to be called a traitor, believe me I know,” he murmured. “You really don’t know anything about them? About your father, or your sister?” 

“I mean, I know who they are, I just don’t know what they did.” She shook her head, her mind turning back to memories she rarely revisited. “When my father became a general, I was nine. My mom didn’t want us following him around, so we moved in with my grandmother in Aretia. My father visited maybe once a year after that. My mom trained my sister and I at her mother’s house until my sister had to leave for Basgiath, and the same week she left for Basgiath, the entire rebellion collapsed. My father died fighting General Sorrengail and my sister was somewhere along the road on the way to Basgiath. Three years later, my sister was killed in some petty skirmish.” She looked away, her gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden warmth over her face. 

Xaden was quiet, watching her. Then, he spoke carefully. “Our fathers believed in the same vision, the same freedom.” 

And she looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as a surge of emotions overwhelmed her—confusion, betrayal, anger. She’d been kept in the dark her entire life, punished for things she’d never even know. Her fists clenched, nails pressing into her palms. 

She was always hidden from that world. She didn’t know anything. 

“So everyone hates me because of his choices. I’m guilty by blood.” 

“It’s more than that,” Xaden nodded. “To them, we’re a symbol. A reminder of the wounds they carry—wounds that are still bloody and raw.” 

Genevieve’s jaw tightened. “But I had no choice in this. I didn’t even know.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of understanding—or was that… guilt—flashed in his eyes. “I know. So I’m telling you now. You deserve to know just as much as I do. But it won’t change how they see you. You’ll always be fighting against their perception, their hate.” 

She looked away once more, her gaze on the dawn’s growing light. As she took in the world bathed in the morning glow, she felt a strange clarity settling within her. “I won’t be defined by their hate or my father’s actions. I want to be my own person, make my own choices.” 

Xaden’s tone was firm, almost challenging. “Then you need to decide what you’re going to do with your truth. You can let it weigh you down, or you can use it to prove them wrong. To rise beyond their hate.” 

The words hung between them, and for a moment, she felt everything she had lost, and everything she had yet to gain. She took a shaky breath. “Easier said than done.” she huffed. 

Xaden’s gaze flickered to her shoulder, but he remained fully in place, steady as stone. “You can.” 

She met his gaze, feeling the fire in his eyes light something within her. “I guess then I’ll survive. And I’ll fight. But for me this time.” 

A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “You’re so weirdly confusing and cryptic.” 

She shrugged. “It takes one to know one.” 

Silence settled once more, and the sun finally broke the horizon. 

“I guess we’re both just trying to outrun our fathers’ shadows, aren’t we?” 

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice gruff. “But maybe it’s not about running. Maybe it’s about learning to live with them and become something more.” 

The golden rays of light stretched across the world, filling her with a quiet, determined strength. “So I’ll become something more. Something better.” 

And as the morning rays of the sun crested the horizon, casting their warmth over Basgiath, Genevieve felt a new resolve settle within her heart. With each dawn, she would rebuild herself from the ashes of her past, a phoenix forged from fire and defiance.

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

Hey everyone! New update here~ I tried to get this out within a timely manner because I knew you guys were waiting!

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, kudo, heart or whatever it is called and comment! I want to know what everything is thinking!

see you guys soon~

[mrsjoeythehurler]

･✧ﾟ♡*✧･Fics ✧* ♡ ﾟ･✧

When I Met You (Fourth Wing)

Aurora Sallow (OC) x Liam Mairi

Chapter One: Old friends, New beginnings

Chapter Two: The Parapet

Chapter Three: At First Sight

Chapter Four: Fourth Wing

Chapter Five: Sparring

Chapter Six: in progress …

Chapter Seven: in progress …

[inky-writing]

Bodhi Durran

Brennan Sorrengail

Dain Aetos

Garrick Tavis

Imogen Cardulo

Jack Barlowe

Liam Mairi

Ridoc Gamlyn

Sawyer Henrick

Xaden Riorson

[marshmellowrio]

Semblance of Control | Masterlist

A Fourth Wing fanfic.

A/N: Here's the aesthetic for my new fanfic on Fourth Wing along with a sneak peek preview of the dialogue. When I post a new chapter, you'll also be able to find them here. I'll also update my Masterlist to include both this story and Flight of the Night.

Disclaimer: I do not own these pictures, nor do I own Fourth Wing. Those rights go to Rebecca Yarros. However, the story of my character and how she is interwoven into the story is all mine.

"Are you insane?" My breath catches in my throat. I can almost hear the laughter in his voice as he responds, "Do you really want me to answer that, love?"

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

I gasp at the quiet. The void. And drop to my knees, not caring Xaden is right beside me, trying to hold on to me.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

"Oh, so I'm second choice? All right, I see how it is." She winks and the two of them laugh.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

"If you want to fight me, just say so. You don't have to be mean about it."

Last update: 09/13/2024 Total chapters: 4

★・・・・・・★

Chapter 1 05/08/2024 Chapter 2 05/25/2024 Chapter 3 06/10/2024 Chapter 4 09/13/2024 Chapter 5 - in progress

★・・・・・・★

[callsign-rogueone]

bedtime

🏷️: some bedtime / cuddle headcanons for our 8 boyfriends, presented for your consideration in no particular order. implications of a sexual relationship between y’all in some of these, but it’s very mild. all of them are gender neutral as well!

Garrick holds you like you’re his teddy bear. it’s so easy for him to loop his arms around your waist and tug you into his chest and put his chin on top of your head and keep you there all night. you fit perfectly in his arms, since he’s an absolute giant. but he doesn’t want to let go of you all night, so if you need to get up… no you don’t. he gets up at the crack of dawn every morning to go lift weights, but he won’t wake you up — he’ll just tuck you in and give you a little forehead kiss before he leaves. he’s always so happy to see you in the morning when you’re up and ready, greeting you with another kiss and a gentle squeeze of a hug and asks how you slept. he’ll tease you lightly if you were drooling or snoring when he got up, but he finds it cute.

Dain is annoyingly responsible, so he’s getting you both into bed by ten every night. but he’s going to help you get ready — picking your pajamas and laying them out for you, packing your bag for the next day while you’re in the shower… makes sure that you brush your teeth and all that, and then tucks you in next to him. he likes having you wrapped up in his arms for a while, your head resting on his shoulder while you drift toward sleep. he’s always so happy when you choose to sleep in his bed, because that means you trust him — both not to hurt you, because it’s kill or be killed in the riders quadrant, and not to read your memories (because MY version of Dain would never 🥰) and also you’re making a conscious decision to choose him, over everyone else you could be with. (our boy’s a little insecure. probably because daddy dearest is such an ass.)

Brennan needs to be bribed into bed because otherwise he’ll work through the night and fall asleep at his desk. method that always works: show up at his office in your cute little jammies, stand behind his chair, gently massage the stress out of his shoulders and use that soft sweet voice to ask him to come up, because you can’t sleep without him :( and he’ll fold immediately. paperwork: abandoned. just let him drag himself through the shower and he’ll be ready to curl up with you. he likes to rest his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat as a reminder that you’re alive and well. like Garrick, he’s not letting go of you any time soon. you’re stuck there, sorry <3

conversely, Bodhi is the one tugging you into bed. he wants to lay down and cuddle as soon as you’re done with dinner. he likes to alternate between big spoon and little spoon, because there’s perks to both. as the big spoon, he gets to keep you nice and safe and warm in his arms (this boy is SO toasty warm at all times) but also he needs to be touching you at all times. and as the small spoon, he gets to be held the way he deserves! he likes to be facing you, though (I know that’s not technically spoons, but idk the name). put your arm around his waist and play with his hair and let him nuzzle his cheek into your shoulder and give you a few lazy neck kisses before he knocks right out.

Ridoc is absolutely shameless. yes, he likes being close to you and showing love, holding you and keeping you safe and warm, but his favorite part of snuggling is the access to your body. you’re right there — and so are all the soft parts of you that he loves. he can squeeze your hips / thighs / ass / chest, and rub his hands all over, under the guise of helping you wind down. he’s respectful though — if he knows you’re truly exhausted, or you tell him to quit it, he won’t do any of that. maybe one little affectionate pat on the hip, or him rubbing your back a little, but otherwise he’ll be hands off and just go to sleep, holding you gently. apart from the feral side, he’s very sweet, and wants to make sure you’re comfy. he’d let you have more of the pillows and blankets / the better ones, because he loves you and knows you need your sleep.

Liam is another that is tugging you into bed. he gets pouty when you stay up too late doing other things bc he wants to cuddle. likes to lay his head on your chest for, wrap his arms around your waist and let your heartbeat lull him to sleep while you give him head scratches, sweet puppy baby. he’s also subconsciously protecting you this way, curling up on top of you to shield you from danger. you don’t sleep like that all night though, because you need to move around and get more comfy, but you’ll find yourselves cuddled together in the morning, you laying on him, or spooning or something. he always wants to be close to you for a while before he goes off to follow Violet around, so he’ll purposely wake up 10-15 mins early. if he accidentally wakes you up, he’ll whisper like… “Get some more sleep, honey. I love you.” and then when you settle back down against him, he’ll lay there for a while just silently appreciating that you’re his partner and you’re so pretty and sweet and soft.

Sawyer would be a little shy at first, but once you’re in an established relationship, he’s shameless about it. if you get in bed first, he’s tugging you into his arms, or if he gets in first, he’s making grabby hands and opening his arms to you like — ’mere. lemme hold u. when he has his injury, that complicates things a little since you don’t want to put pressure on his leg or cause him pain. you settle for holding hands, like sea otters, and make up for the lost physical contact with plenty of hugs and kisses. once he’s finally healed, though, it’s back to snuggling every night. he likes to be the one to hold you, because he wants to feel like the more masculine partner in the traditional sense (the same with Dain. idk. they just give me the vibe that they want a sweet little partner to protect and hold. that’s why I gave him peach).

Aaric… I’m torn on him. I feel like he’s a little prissy about his beauty sleep, but he’d still cuddle with his partner a bit and share a bed. maybe not every night, though. he’d have a very comfortable bed, both in the castle, because duh, but also in Basgiath and at Riorson house, because he’s somehow acquired extra pillows and blankets; the softest ones, too — rich boy habits die hard. he’d like to be the one holding you, though. letting you rest your head on his chest / shoulder, or being the big spoon for you. he’s pretty tall and pretty built, so it would be nice to have him completely cover you like that. he’d probably also be up super early, like Garrick, and would also give you a soft little goodbye kiss and let you sleep another hour. he really likes the sight of you in his bed (not like that, but also yes like that — I mean more in a sense of: this person is mine, they’re sleeping in my blankets and making the bed smell like them, and nobody else gets that.)

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

Rhiannon, Sawyer and Ridoc are the type of friends that constantly call Violet a nerd and a loser but as soon as some else insults her they’re like “ayo 🤨🤨🤨 tf did you just say to our keychain rider??”

[angstywaifu]

Violet: If I fall… Xaden: I’ll be there to catch you. Ophelia: *looks at Garrick* What if I fall? Garrick: Then I’ll fall with you, never leaving your side. Ridoc: *watches these two interactions* Ridoc, to Sawyer: And if I fall? Sawyer: I’ll be the one who pushed you.

[philokaliist]

Feelings that come back,and feelings that never left.

Xaden Riorson x OC (Irellya Aetos)

A small peek at my new fanfic + quotes.And yes,I’m alive,apparently,lol.

“…What happens when the girl who is described as the embodiment of winter - cold,icy,detached,deadly…yet so incredibly beautiful,falls in love?The only right answer:chaos.”

-

“…But that girl…could it be?Indeed it was.The tiny clumsy girl he had saved from drowning all those years ago.Now standing in front of him,shooting him the darkest glare he had ever received from a woman.Well…some people never change,so it seems.”

-

“Emptiness in her eyes.But a storm in her soul.”

-

Irellya Aetos. Sister of Dain Aetos. Adopted (p.s:She LOATHES Colonel Aetos,so yeah,get ready for that).Born on the 21st of December,on the Winter Solstice.

Irellya,having wished to be a healer,and having spent most of her years studying herbs and magic,alongside other topics she simply found fascinating,is forced by her father to enroll into the rider’s quadrant.Just as Violet,her best friend,had been,by her mother,which,honestly,Irellya wasn’t particularly fond of either.

Although she is…odd…and does not look as one would perceive ‘normal’,that doesn’t mean she will be stepped on.

Because those who mess with her,or anyone she loves,end up in two ways:Dead…or damaged beyond repair.

-

Irellya:Aesthetic board

[amanita-muscaria-lover]

Iron Flame lines that have altered my brain chemistry:

"She made her choice, and it wasn't you. It will never be you."

"I'd rather you scream at me than pretend everything is all right with silence."

"then what about the wabern, or whatever you called them?"

"Do I know something about the Archives that you don't?"

"And I still don't regret it, Vi. Not one second."

"You're all right... I'll be right here. I'm not going to leave you."

I look up into the wrath of Dunne in the form of gold-flecked onyx eyes.

"My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I'll meet Malek at your side."

The entire cliff, above and below, echoes it, as if the gryphons grieve the loss of the flier as one.

"You've earned an honorable death."

"My house. My chair. My woman."

"Look at how beautiful you are, Violet, coming for me on Tyrrendor's throne."

"That trick you mentioned? You know, with the fingers? Thanks."

"I fucking love you."

"I'm sorry. I choose your life, too. You are mine. I can't let you die."

"Less than a minute."