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olympialogy · 3 months

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Finally finished my Fourth Wing Birthday Bash fic! It's called A Letter A Day (Keeps You Ready To Mingle), which is a play on both An apple a day keeps the doctor away and I'm single and ready to mingle. The ending is open-ended, though ;)

Here's a snippet:

“I’ll remain standing, thank you very much,” she snipes back, and I cringe back. (Sloane Mairi collapsed with quiet wails by her boyfriend’s deception. He’d told her that she was his first love. It wasn’t true. He had lied. He had loved Liam Mairi, her older—and now dead—brother.) I’m not an inntinnsic— “Thank Dunne for that,” Cuir snorts. —but even I can tell what kind of thoughts are running rampant in her head.

Read Here On AO3, below on tumblr! x

More information: thank you to Alli @justallihere and Amy/Hurricane @skyfallscotland for hosting the Birthday Bash!

the prompt "Do you care at all?" came from @creativepromptsforwriting, so thank you Jana!

roughly 3.7k words of angst; please pretend that Eya died at Resson instead of in the bathroom!

I’ve figured out my life, somewhat.

Mostly.

It’s kind of hard, right after losing the love of my life, but I’m making due. I don’t even have anything of his to keep—except for the little, white lotus carved from wood we found in his pocket—due to Basgiath’s tradition of burning a cadet’s items.

It’s been less than a year, and I’ve been tossed right into war school—Basgiath.

And everyday, I watch people I feel responsible or I care for in some shape, way, or form, die—during school or in my nightmares.

I’m separated from Xaden, Garrick…Garrick, who’s my best friend, a close confidant; Xaden, who’s my literal cousin; and even Eya, who is practically my sister due to our years being fostering together.

This isn’t even mentioning the nightly weapon runs I do.

It’s all unfair to Sloane, but…but there’s nothing I can do. Poromiel needs to help and Xaden’s gone, meaning the responsibility has fallen to me. I get to my room most nights past midnight, and fall asleep, wishing I could hold Sloane in my arms.

The nights I don’t go on runs are spent with Sloane, normally. We rarely fuck anymore—not that we don’t give in to our “guilty pleasures,” as Cuir calls it, as if she doesn’t still have an occasional escapade with a random dragon—but we stay in one of our beds, curled around each other, her back arched into my stomach, her hair spread over the pillow and smells heavenly, her arm bent to rest over my back, a comforting weight. She says that my arms around her stomach are comforting.

I’ve learned that love is complicated.

And it requires effort—it cannot be done from will alone.

Less than a year ago, I would imagine my future with Liam Mairi—tall, muscular, blonde, blue eyes, and the sweetest heart. Less than a year ago, I was riding the love boat, clinging onto the distant dream of happiness. Less than a year ago, I knew myself less than I know now.

It doesn’t mean that part of my heart won’t forever be held by Liam. He’s part of me, a part that won’t—can’t—go.

I’ve accepted that.

At least, I think I have. I hope.

I really fucking hope.

Unfortunately, today isn’t one of those days I get to fall asleep with my head buried in Sloane’s hair. It isn’t a night I can fall asleep without Cuir’s pestering.

I’ve just gotten back from a weapon run, and along with the blood staining my leather jacket (dammit), my eyes are fluttering with exhaustion. Cuir’s presence is a gentle breeze in my mind. My conversations with Syrena and Catriona are barely tolerable and there’s no denying the fear that was pounding through my veins hours earlier—fear I can’t be as good as Xaden.

“I wouldn’t have chosen you if you were weak,” Cuir scoffs.

I don’t thank Cuir, but still, she chuffs easily as if he knows what I’m thinking—well, she should, considering we basically share a mind.

“Though with how you act with the girl…” I can imagine Cuir’s eyes narrowing in her cave in the Vale.

“Not now,” I fling back, shrugging my flying coat from my shoulders and tossing it onto my chair, trying not to wince, knowing that if any blood got onto it, it would stain the wood. My eyes try to close again, and I have to forcibly pull them open with my fingers to keep from falling asleep.

I’d like nothing more than to take a soothing, warm shower, but it’s multiple hours past midnight and I have, A) important classes tomorrow; and B) Sloane is still gone with her squad training. I won’t be able to relax anyways, and there’s a higher chance of me falling asleep than actually getting clean.

“Not my fault all humans are weak,” Cuir scoffs in my mind as I strip down to my boxers. “But you.”

I can’t stop the response that I don’t speak but he understands. “Yet you bonded one.”

“For reasons humans wouldn’t understand. Besides, I said, ‘but you’.” Cuir doesn’t hold a high opinion on humans—and riders—and she’s reassured me multiple times that other dragons think the same. I wouldn’t know. As she thinks, I’m a measly human, the only one worthy of bonding with her. Me and some random female rider decades ago.

That’s always her response when we get to dragon stuff. Humans can’t know. Apparently Sgaeyl and Chradh say the same thing, so it’s not exclusively a Cuir-doesn’t-want-to-tell-her-rider event. The Empyrean is hidden, I know, so I never push.

I close my eyes as I curl under the uncomfortable black blanket, wishing, not for the first time, that I could go back six years to when we were younger, things were simpler, and everyone was alive. But those wishes are fucking futile.

There are people we won’t get back.

Eya.

Her name echoes in my head, the stunning reminder that even if something seems secure, it’s gone.

Liam.

Xaden’s brother. He had a connection to Xaden that even I didn’t have.

Ciaran.

A marked one all the same, even if I didn’t know him well.

“You are being self-deprecating again,” Cuir chuffs, as if it doesn’t bother her. It does, though—evident by her notion—but I close my eyes and try to fall asleep.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but it comes calling.

It comes calling like Garrick did when I first stepped off Parapet, how Eya, behind a tree, had thrown her arms around me.

It comes calling like a friend I can’t see, but it’s not a nice friend.

Lately, it’s been wrapped in nightmares—nightmares filling the gap of dreams. The dreams had been soothing; new memories taking over the burning fire of General Melgren’s dragon that swallowed my mother and uncle. The memories were good ones of Basgiath: surviving the Gauntlet, seeing Xaden and Eya and Garrick again, teasing Imogen about Garrick…meeting Liam. But the nightmares overtake it, again and again and again.

Resson and Athebyne have been on my mind more than ever.

Like tonight.

When the cascade of sleep finally washes over me, it isn’t pleasant. My eyes are flooded with memories of Resson, flashing behind my eyes so quickly that it merges with the wood landscape from so little months ago.

Resson, Resson, Resson.

Deigh to my right, the thunderous red daggertail flying, his winds pounding the air. Compressions, I remember from some useless class I’d had to attend back in Aretia. My own hair is ruffling back in the wind, floating just over my eyes as the quick air we fly through presses it back, far, far behind my eyesight.

“No one yet,” Cuir reports, though, if you’d ask, she would say that she was simply scouting.

I love my dragon.

The dream is the same every time.

I hear the yell before it happens. Soleil is the first one down. Always. Fuil falls and then Soleil dies, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing to stop the gut-wrenching pain that I know has overtaken Xaden.

The 107 scars on his back. They don’t go away when one of us dies—and plenty of us have. Each one remains, as if to remind Xaden of a failure that doesn’t exist. Sometimes, I wish they’d disappear—but then I wonder:

Would it hurt Xaden more to see each one disappear, to know each one of us is failing and dying…or does it hurt more to have our souls, our names, carved onto his back?

I won’t ask him, but the question lingers in the nooks and crannies of my mind.

“Wyvern incoming!” Cuir’s screech is off. I don’t even blink as dream-me goes into battle, fighting the wyvern. The venin will come soon, I know. Cuir’s voice is like a whisper of her true power. That was the only way I knew it was a nightmare, the first time around.

But…something was off.

Normally, by this time, another wyvern would come, trying to knock me off of Cuir. I knew this. I knew it well. Then Xaden would come, trying to help me.

Where is it? When is it?

Xaden should be coming to my rescue, but—Liam and Deigh touch the ground. They’re touching too early. They only drop later, not now. Liam leaps off of Deigh’s spine with such a well-practiced maneuver that my brain can’t help but think, that’s second year stuff.

“Hey, Bodhi!” he yells. Something about his smile is off, but I’ve never been in this dream before. Ever. I don’t know what to say or do or react. “The ground is safe!” if this was what had actually happened in Resson…I’d be confused out of my mind.

It was only after Liam died that we understood that the venin sucked from the Earth, like Soleil and Fuil when they’d landed.

“I…”

Cuir’s voice has gone silent in dream!Me’s head. Obviously, she can’t respond…I’m alone.

Fuck.

The dream version of me climbs off of Cuir. I—the real me—doesn’t exist here. I’m just a soul, watching from the corner.

Liam is smiling and when I finally reach the ground, the “wrongness” clicks in my brain.

There’s a red ring around Liam’s eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I haven’t had this dream, ever, and no dream similarly like it.

Liam’s gone venin. How? How, how, how?

Xaden lands behind me. I don’t see him, but I feel the familiar, gusty exhale that Sgaeyl gives when she lands. Dream her is a good imitation of the real her.

He’s also the first to speak again, reaching forward to mess with my hair as he walks around to stand next to Liam. Maybe Sorrengail and Imogen are still in the air. I don’t know.

“Hey brother,” Liam says, and the two of them shake hands. I stand awkwardly in front of them, mind racing at the lack of Cuir’s presence.

Xaden turns to me. Something in his eyes is sharp, so sharp that it hurts more than the dagger I was stabbed with on the first-ever day of Challenges. “You,” he hisses out. It’s cold. Freezing cold. Just like his shadows, I distantly think as I stare at him.

“Me.” My voice is shaky. I’m scared…and I’m willing to admit it. Not to this Xaden’s face, though; only to mine, the one who doesn’t judge me.

Or, at least, I hope he doesn’t judge me. There’s no guarantee, but Xaden keeps his promises, and he promised to protect me.

“You,” he repeats, walking closer. And closer. And closer. And closer, until he stands just in front of me. His skin is surprisingly chocolate-y in the beating sun. Why, why, why.

This wasn’t what happened.

This isn’t what’s supposed to happen!

“Me,” I say yet again, my voice shaking even more.

Xaden raises his hand as if to cup my face, and that should’ve been my first sign that something was wrong. He doesn’t cup anyone’s face but Sorrengail’s. His hand falls on my face, a backhanded slap.

Fucking Malek.

My eyes well up with tiny tears that I push backwards. My cheek stings with the remnants of Xaden’s hit, and as he backs away, I see the palms of his hands are surprisingly light, lighter than even my skin.

My skin is described as a toasted coconut, and Xaden’s is more chocolate-like—the only person that I’m related to with that skin tone is…my heart jumps into my throat, clogging it. My goddamned dead father.

And Xaden knows how I feel about my father—fuck it, that’s why my brain chose to depict Xaden like this. It’s all one bad dream, getting longer and longer. Cuir!

It’s not fucking fair, is all I can think as I realize that in this fucking terrifying dream, my own dragon can’t respond to me. I try to reach out to her, pushing deep, but there’s no sign of Cuir.

Please.

“You are a disappointment,” Xaden hisses out, eyes narrowing.

No.

I’m not.

Right?

This time Liam approaches, swinging his arm around Xaden’s shoulder. Xaden doesn’t look bothered—no, in fact, his eyes light up with love.

“You suck the oxygen out of the air with your attempts at jokes; you make people feel worse, not better.” His lip curls upwards distastefully. “Loving you was a mistake.”

No.

Garrick, this time, joins in. He stands over Xaden and Liam, and he looks so “part of the family” that the tears threaten in my eyes again.

“You just copy Xaden,” he says. His lips move; his eyes are hollow when he looks at me. “You try to mimic him in every way and everyone knows it. No one appreciates it, too, because you aren’t nearly as close to his power as you think you are.”

No. No. No.

I don’t mimic Xaden.

Imogen and Masen both say something, but I’m too caught up in Garrick’s words and the tears falling down my cheeks in free-flowing rivers.

Next is Soleil, who I used to be close to. She swings her arms over Imogen and Masen’s shoulders so she’s hugging both of them at the same time, as if to say, you’re not welcome.

“We all know you're trying to walk into shoes that are too big for you—Xaden’s, Auntie’s, your dad’s…we all know you’re failing at it, too,” Soleil says.

Soleil—I want to yell out her name, demand she take it back, because she knows it’s not true.

Right?

Eya’s hollow eyes stare into mine, the piercing in her eyebrow glinting in the sun. I can barely make her out, my tears bubbling up and gliding down my rough cheeks, dropping from my chin to the edge of my ripped shirt collar. “You…” she starts. It’s so close to what Xaden said earlier that I flinch, expecting a physical blow, but none comes and Eya acts like nothing happened. “You are failing,” Eya delivers the final blow. “You…

“You are failing so badly, and everyone around you is too polite because you make everyone feel awkward with your horrendous jokes—” I can’t resist the part of my brain that says, you don’t complain about Garrick’s jokes. I’m the polite one “—and we all see you drowning in responsibilities you aren’t ready for.”

Eya. Please.

I can hear soft footsteps behind me, but I don’t turn around, figuring it’s just someone’s dragon…until a pale hand lands on my tensed arm.

Violet’s sweet voice rings in the air, apposing, clear and loud.

“He’s none of that,” she declares…and I feel a flare of appreciation for Violet Sorrengail. Xaden really did pick well with his girl. She’s gusty, I give her that. But she’s only a dream. Would she stand up to Xaden if he was actually hurting me?

Xaden’s lips curl, as if it’s all amusing to him.

Something is amusing to him, something about Sorrengail defending me.

“Really,” he purrs out. He himself doesn’t span the small distance to us, but his shadows reach out to Violet and I can see her heart tugging to be closer to him. “Really, Violet? After what he’s done?”

What did I do?

But Violet steps forward as if Xaden struck a blow, and I can see Xaden’s cockiness spread over his face, even if no one else can see it. I slip a glance to Liam; nevermind. I’m not the only one.

Fucking Liam Mairi can also see it.

Something warm spreads in my chest—warm and uncomfortable.

Welcome, Jealousy, the green-eyed monster.

Or maybe it’s not jealousy, I can imagine Cuir’s chuff so realistically that for a moment I imagine she’s back, but when I reach out, she’s not.

Violet still looks stricken. “I—” she seems to choke, as if not talking, not confessing, will help both of us. “You’re—”

No.

If she tells Xaden “you’re right,” this dream is going to go to shit real quickly. Xaden has an ego, something we all know, and we also know that we’re the ones who have spent time pulling it down. He gets too cocky. But Violet strokes his ego. Too much.

She doesn’t say the words, but she still steps to Xaden, standing between him and Garrick, declaring her alliance loud and clearly: she’s not with me. Sweetly, full of genuine meaning I can’t comprehend, she says, “Sorry.”

My only hope of allegiance in this dream is gone, crumbling away into a chasm beneath my touch.

“Bodhi.” The yell slams into my dreamscape. I ignore it.

“BODHI.” Now it thunders, and it sounds like Cuir in a way I can't describe.

“WAKE UP!”

My eyes flutter open with the final call of my dragon. I’m hesitant to leave the dream, as down-putting as it was, because it meant I could see the people I loved.

“Cuir?” even in my head, the question sounds too unconfident, as if I’m completely, utterly lost.

“Bodhi.” I can imagine the way Cuir purrs the sound, a deep rumbling filling her chest as her tail sways just a bit. “There’s someone at your door.” her tone means he knows who it is, but I’m too focused on a different part: it’s probably five in the morning, an hour before we have to be in formation, but also half an hour after curfew ends. Who in the world would want to talk to me at this time of day?

I only register the fact that the only clothing I’m wearing is black boxers when I open the door. Then I realize my hair is a mess, my breath probably smells bad, and I’m in a horrible mood—but the person who decided to open my door better have a good fucking reason.

I don’t see anyone.

What…Oh.

Realization comes a bit slowly.

I tilt my head down.

When I make eye contact with the person there, my heart stops.

Fuck.

“So,” Sloane Mairi says, “when were you going to tell me you loved my brother?”

No, no, no.

No, she’s just joking. I wait for it to come, but it doesn’t—Sloane keeps standing there, hands on her hips, right fingers crushing small slivers of paper.

Papers that…

“Uh…” my response is not, in fact, eloquent. “Sloane—”

“Shut up,” she barks out, stomping the four steps forward and placing a firm hand on my chest, as if trying to physically stop me. Or maybe she’s feeling my muscles.

Her eyes close, as if she’s trying to count to ten.

Fine, maybe twenty.

It doesn’t work, though, and she opens her eyes with just as much fury in them as before. “Why did I have to find out from letters?” her voice cracks.

There’s nothing I can say. I can only remember that Sorrengail had rescued Liam’s letters for Sloane from his room before they burned all his belongings. Some of my letters to him had been…obviously kept in the same pile.

The tears have started, small, slick pearls running down her face. “W—why,” she gasps out.

“Sloane—” I cut myself off. There’s no easy way to approach this, not with the memories that are pounding through my head as I remember.

Me and Liam, Liam and I.

Fuck, Liam.

Sloane forms fists, scrunching the papers even more. “Why, Bodhi?!” and this time it’s more of a howl.

I bite my bottom lip anxiously. “In,” I ordered, moving out of the doorframe so she could enter. With a glare, she does, and I close and lock the door behind us.

“Why.”

“Because…” my gaze wanders to the window. There’s so much I can’t tell her, so I say nothing.

Sloane takes it personally. Not only do her fists bawl even more—I doubt the paper is even readable, now—but she draws a sharp breath in, pouting her cheeks adorably.

“Was I just a replacement?” She beats me with the questions, each one hammering into me harder than the last. “Do you care at all?”

Fuck.

The thing is, I do care. And I always thought she knew this. But if she really thought I was just using her as a replacement for Liam, then I’ve been doing stuff seriously wrong.

Like, seriously seriously.

“Sloane—” Her eyes burn bright, as if she’s daring me to contradict her. “Sloane, of course I care.”

“Really?” she fires back, “Because the letters give the impression that you don’t.”

Unfortunately, Cuir takes Sloane’s side, the massive fucking green she is. “She isn’t wrong,” Cuir is too amused for my liking.

“Shut up,” I fire back.

“Sloane…” my eyes close. “Those letters feel like that for a reason. They were written while I was riding on the waves of love.”

“And you aren’t now?” She challenges.

She’s got me there. I sit down on my hastily-made bed. I pat the space next to me— “Sit.”

“I’ll remain standing, thank you very much,” she snipes back, and I cringe back.

(Sloane Mairi collapsed with quiet wails by her boyfriend’s deception. He’d told her that she was his first love. It wasn’t true. He had lied.

He had loved Liam Mairi, her older—and now dead—brother.)

I’m not an inntinnsic—

“Thank Dunne for that,” Cuir snorts.

—but even I can tell what kind of thoughts are running rampant in her head.

“Sorry.” It’s probably the fakest apology I’ve ever uttered.

“Right,” she raises her eyebrow.

“Look, Sloane—” I try, but she cuts me off.

“Look, Bodhi,” she states clearly. “I love you. I fucking love you. But you’ve literally rocked my world upside down, denying that you love me—” No! That’s not true… I want to yell. But she’s on a roll. “…and I don’t know what else you’ve lied to me about. About Ar—home, about here, about your position. This isn’t a right-now thing, but I need you to know that most of my trust in you has completely evaporated.”

My heart stops.

Trust. Evaporated.

Everything is going by so fast I can’t register the words except two: trust. Evaporated.

Sloane, Sloane, Sloane, my heart calls.

Sloane turns around, hiding her furious face from me. Sloane.

“I’m going,” she tosses over her shoulder. “When you figure your shit out, come to me.” The door slams shut and Cuir’s voice fills my head, her voice short and sweet. “I am sorry, Gentle One.”

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #violet sorrengail #bodhi durran #liam mairi #sloane mairi #fourth wing fanfic #Fourth Wing Birthday Bash

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empyrean-thrones · 2 months

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“…Names hold a lot of power where I’m from; the one I used to go by — the person I used to be — is gone. The one I use now is symbolic of the path I must stride: to move forward without looking back on past sorrows. Thus, I am Naolin.”

Tiny snippet of my fic for @rq-gift-exchange. It should be uploaded later today

#Jey writes #fourth wing birthday bash

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we-were-beautiful · 5 months

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Marry me

Xaden x Sorrengail!oc

WC: 816

Warnings: None just Fluff

A/N: Well I decided to take part in a small writing Challenge. I had fun writing this little blurb and while it has the potential to turn into its own series; I am going to show self restraint by not doing that. The prompt was "I can never say 'no to you" From Jana over at @creativepromptsforwriting

Also fair warning; I didn't send this to any of my betas. So we die like men at this point

Thank you to @skyfallscotland and @justallihere for putting together the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash

Last but not least tumbr is being dumb and won’t let me post from my laptop so apologies about the formatting

“We should get married” I comment wrapping my arms around my beloved’s shoulders, fingers gently tracing along the scars at the top of his shoulders. I look up into his gold flecked onyx eyes and smile widely at him. Was the flight field after lessons the best place to have this conversation, probably not, but I couldn’t help myself. It had been an interesting lesson with a storm about to roll in; the thunder off in the distance rolling. But now with the rest of the third years and Professor Kaori heading back to the citadel, I figured given Xaden a small heart attack would be fun.

Where I would expect to see shock and hesitance on his face I only see a fond smile as he wraps his arms around my waist to pull me into his chest.

“When do you want to get married and how do you want to tell your mother and sisters?” I hadn’t thought of that.

It would be pretty easy to tell Violet. If I could get her away from her squad it would be as simple as that. Mira I could just write a letter too. Shed be pissed at first; she had specifically told me to stay away from Xaden. That didn’t work out since we ended up in the same squad with mated dragons; but Mira could get over it. She’d be happy for me eventually.

My mother; however, I completely forgot about. General Sorrengail hadn’t been a fan of the relationship and she had made it known to me once the word had made it to her office. That had been the only time I had formally gotten called to her office to make her displeasure known; but its been three years. Xaden and I work well together and we have been in love with each other for awhile now. Not to mention we are kinda stuck with each other until one of us dies so at one point or another she’s just going to have to learn to live with it.

I feel Tairn’s amusement in the back of my mind. The old curmudgeon had been riding my ass this last week about acting like a love sick puppy around Xaden. Like his grumpy ass isn’t the exact same way around Sgaeyl.

‘I heard that’ the rumbling voice flows through my head.

‘You were supposed to.’ I felt Tairn’s snout push at my back sending me further into Xaden’ s grasp ‘Tairn!!!’ I can hear Sgaeyl chuckle in my head.

‘I think I shall go get some sheep’ I’m not sure if it is the mighty beat of our dragons wings or thunder, but as the two dragons fly off the heavens open up above us and cold rain begins to pour down. Xaden lets out a hearty laugh squeezing me tightly.

“When do you want to get married love.” He leans down to whisper in my ear repeating his earlier question.

“Want to grab Garrick, Bodhi, Liam and Vi and sneak down to Chantara.” I would do it; grab our family and secretly get married today if he agreed.

“How about we wait until graduation. We can get our family together, before we fly to our post, and have a small ceremony.” He pushes a soaked strand of hair away from my face. “Then it gives you time to let Mira know, so she can try and get leave” leave it to this perfect man to remember that I wanted Mira there when I got married. While Brennen had Mom and Violet had Dad it had been Mira and I against the world. I still had all of the letters we had wrote to each other while she was in the quadrant and then when I started second year. She had to be there on our special day; she would kill me if I ran off today and got married.

“Ok Graduation it is then.” He looks even more breathtaking in the rain as water droplets roll down his skin.

“Alright then lets go Mrs.Riorson.” He lets go of me and moves towards the hidden tunnel entrance.

“Wait.” I call grabbing his hand to stop him. “Kiss me?” Is it cheesy and straight out of the romance books that I brought into the quadrant, yes. But I had always wanted to be kissed in the rain.

“Have I ever been able to say ‘no’ to you.” He gently cradles my face in his hands tilting my face upwards; his lips crash into mine is a passionate kiss. It starts out innocent enough but my hands quickly find their way to his hair and one of his finds its way to my ass. When we break apart we are gasping for breath; Xaden rest his forehead against mine and hazel eyes meet onyx “Marry me?”

“Yes.” I laugh and pull him into another kiss.

#fourthwingbirthdaybash #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x oc

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widebrimmedhatsblog · 3 months

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Hello!

Masterpost! Masterpost! Masterpost!

In short, almost everyone else in the fandom has one of these, and I love feeling included, so I decided to make masterpost for my blog!

My name is Helena, and I'm 21. My goal is to write and publish my own original works (I've actually written one book already, but publishing is hard!), but I also might go to grad school next year. I love coffee and getting little treats. I do a lot of yoga, I read a ton of books then journal my thoughts on them, and I absolutely fell in love with Fourth Wing this past February.

Fics!

One Night, And Then Another

ONATA was originally written for the fourth wing birthday bash, but a lot of people in the comments asked for more, so I decided to expand the universe into a full length fic! ONATA is complete at 103K words.

Here, Violet has some slightly stalkerish tendencies, and a mild Xaden Riorson obsession (she's just like me for real). But, when Liam sets Violet and Xaden up on a blind date, Violet realizes that Xaden's the key to unravelling the mystery behind her brother and father's deaths. She has to decide if answers are worth the risk of getting close to him. Spoiler alert: they are.

Along with One Night, And Then Another, there's One Night, which is a prequel/prologue of sorts (in that it details the Riorgail one night stand that created the dramatic tension in ONATA) but the two fics can be read in any order. (16K)

I also have my RQ gift exchange fic, in which Imogen and Garrick share a tender moment mid-Iron Flame: Homesick

My prompt was quite literally Immrick and romance, and I like to think I delivered! (6K)

I also have my first fic ever written for this fandom: Of Mothers and Storms

This is a super short work which was basically an excuse to drop in on what life might be like for Violet and Xaden post-war, post-Venin, and post-Navarre. (1K)

And last, but certainly not least, I have some X/V/L porn (though, there are definitely feelings involved, and maybe a teeny tiny sprinkle of plot? If you squint?)

to soothe and be soothed (7k)

I love Xaden, Violet, and Liam together! This scene haunted me for days until I wrote it down.

My road trip fic, On The Road Again (WIP, 30k) in which Xaden and Violet go on a road trip to rescue Bodoc, and deal with feelings!! Also, it IS named after the One Direction tour, not that literally anyone has asked.

Anyway, that's all for now! I'm really hoping to make some friends on here and to chat with everyone more. We have such a lovely fandom community growing, and I really want to be apart of it in a more active way.

I have some other WIPs that I'd LOVE to yap about, such as a plane crash AU, a little Riorgail multiverse fic, and a seasonal/holidays through the seasons series that will explore all of our favorite couples.

I don't have an update schedule, and I'm lucky enough to spend a lot of my summer travelling, but I won't abandon these fics or this fandom, I promise. I have absolutely no idea what I will end up using this blog for, but I'm so excited to find out, and to hopefully connect with more people soon.

#masterlist #fourth wing #fanfic

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taumoebaa · 4 months

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A fic for the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 in which Xaden and Violet go to couples therapy together.

“We’re going to start with sixty seconds today. No distractions. No words. Just gazing.” “What’s this supposed to achieve?” Xaden grumbles, having grown sick of listening to instructions. “It’s an exercise to build intimacy,” the therapist explains, scratching away on his notepad, as if he’d gleaned some vital information from Xaden’s resistance to comply. “We’re intimate,” Xaden says, deadpan. “Xaden! Just let him do his job,” Violet whispers to him, eager to have the session go smoothly. Her voice is laden with shame when she turns to the therapist and says, “I’m sorry about my husband. I know it doesn’t look like it, but we do have sex on a regular basis.” “That…was not the sort of intimacy I was referring to.” “Oh.”

Thank you to @skyfallscotland and @justallihere for running the challenge, and to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompt!

#FourthWingBirthdayBash #fourth wing fanfic

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littlefirefox · 5 months

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Just posted this for Fourth Wing Birthday Bash!

Prompt credit: @deity-prompts for the prompt used!

Credit to @skyfallscotland and @justallihere for the Birthday Bash that gave me the opportunity to write fanfic again! This was a blast 😊

#fourthwingbirthdaybash

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skyfallscotland · 4 months

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Not me taking a smutty little prompt and building a whole damn world around it—very on brand. The prompt was: "I’ll take good care of you, I promise." from @nightprompts and let me tell you, he does, in fact, take good care of her 😉

“So you’re the one who gave me that scar.” I stare, uncomprehending. “What?” I manage to bite out. He lifts a hand, tapping his finger over the scar trailing from his ear to his collarbone, a match for the one I’d had clawed into me by a gryphon just like his. I bite down on my tongue as I think about the mirror of a burn long-since healed, that mars the skin of my torso. A scar that every man or woman I’ve ever taken to bed since has commented on. And he’s worried about a line on the side of his neck? My blood boils.

— The State of Rider-Flier Relations, now up on AO3, xf

#fourth wing fanfic #mira sorrengail #mira x drake #fourthwingbirthdaybash #fourth wing birthday bash #fw the state of rider-flier relations

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yanny-77 · 4 months

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I Don't Feel Safe with You Anymore

"What makes a dragon abandon her rider?" It's been five days since the Battle of Basgiath and Xaden still hasn't heard from Sgaeyl. The dragon left the college, needing time and distance to reflect on and process the changes to their bond since Xaden reached for power. Xaden is determined to give her that space, even as his magic drains the longer she stays away. He fights the urge to channel from the earth with everything he has but being a rider, his body is no longer compatible with life without magic. He can wait for her to come back. He can hold out. The alternative is unthinkable.

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/M Fandom: The Empyrean - Rebecca Yarros Relationships: Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail, Xaden Riorson & Sgaeyl, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson, Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis, Xaden Riorson & Jack Barlowe Characters: Xaden Riorson, Violet Sorrengail, Sgaeyl (Empyrean), Garrick Tavis, Bodhi Durran, Jack Barlowe Additional Tags: POV Xaden Riorson, Post-Book 2: Iron Flame (Empyrean), Venin (Empyrean), Venin Xaden, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, Primary Riorgail, Secondary Imrrick, Secondary Bodoc, Xaden's Choice, Violet really fucking loves Xaden, So at least he's got that going for him Tasteful Smut in chapter 3

Publishing Schedule:

Chapter 1 - May 23rd

Chapter 2 - May 30th

Chapter 3 - June 6th

Chapter 4 - June 13th

Chapter 5 - June 20th

I had an angst prompt for the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash hosted by @skyfallscotland and @justallihere

Thanks to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompt.

#xaden riorson #xaden pov #riorgail #Xaden Angst #xaden x violet #violet x xaden #Xaden Riorson x Violet Sorrengail #fourth wing #yanny wips #Fourth Wing Birthday Bash #FourthWingBirthdayBash

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hoeelliexx · 3 months

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Finally posted part one of my Fourth Wing Birthday Bash 2024 (organized by @skyfallscotland and @justallihere) Fic!!! No idea when the next chapters will be out but well here is my word vomit bahahahah

My prompt will stay secret until the last chapter so stay tuned!

Special thanks to @yanny-77 and Astro for beta reading!

#fourth wing #fanfic #iron flame #fourth wing birthday bash #fourthwingbirthdaybash #the empyrean #storm in the quiet #brennan x naolin #naolin #brennan sorrengail #academic rivals #enemies to lovers

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bestbookfriends · 4 months

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I was so inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting‘s prompt from @skyfallscotland‘s and @justallihere‘s #Fourth Wing Birthday Bash that I wrote a second piece modeled off Hemmingway’s dialogue-heavy “Hills Like White Elephants”

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #fourth wing birthday bash #imogen cardulo #garrick tavis #immerick #angst

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justallihere · 5 months

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Are you gonna participate in the fourth wing fic exchange?

I haven’t decided yet! It’s a longer challenge and I do good to keep up with my sitq updates, plus I’ve already committed to the birthday bash with Amy. And I don’t do great with being told what to write unfortunately 😂😂 If I feel like I have enough time to pull it off I might sign up later 🫶🏻

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alanaever · 4 months

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I made my choices.

For hurricane, JustAlliHere. For the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash!

Thank you to @justallihere and @skyfallscotland (tumblr) for organizing!

Dialogue prompt:"How does it feel to not get your way?"from Jana-@creativepromptsforwriting.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Brennan Sorrengail, Type of death: violent Age: 24 Sex: male Date of death: assumed 1st July

Comments: shot through the chest with an arrow, death immediate. However unnecessary physical trauma was exerted on the body after death; the lungs, liver, intestines and stomach were fully removed cut up and scattered around the body. The heart and brain are partially removed and the head is partially attached. Blood had been drained and used to paint phases and depictions of Lilith Sorrengail’s other children in similar states of disembowelment.

This is a brutal mutilation suspected conducted by Fen Riorson himself, one that goes against Tyrrish respect for the dead on a great account allowing it to be known the Tyrrish have lost all respect for human life. We all know the gods don’t allow incomplete corpses to enter their kingdom. The corpse was burnt on sight. There was no pressing need to burden a family that has given so much to Navarre’s cause with those images.

Unnecessary physical trauma exerted on the body… heart and brain partially removed… blood drained.

Brennan was dead.

We read the reports, we weren’t supposed to not after Dad’s first heart attack upon reading them. A heart attack I didn't know about till I read the reports and the medical advisement underneath for them not to be shown to the remaining siblings.

I was in battle brief when I heard 20 to his 24. “Squadron 6 of Summerton engaged in battle against the Tyrrish forces on Tuesday evening… they were successful in pushing back the Tyrrish forces to Aretia,” the cheers. God the cheers.

Granted there were Tyrrish in the room and a brawl nearly kicked off but god I cheered not knowing… “During this battle, all members of the squadron were killed. Most notably a siphon and a mender two of the rarest signets in our arsenal.” I remember the dread then, the desperation, the hope that it was someone else anyone else. I sat wishing death upon every one of the five menders in Navarre’s military desperate that this one wasn’t mine.

“The Mender is suspected of being in close combat with Fen Riorson and managed to push him back into the boarders, however, he left himself exposed when he put himself in the way of one of Fen’s arrows to protect a group of civilians both Navarrian and Tyrrish… all of the civilians survived thanks to this. The syphon died channelling power into the mender to aid him in repairing the damage done by the arrow unfortunately it wasn't enough they both died in the process.”

I knew, I don't know how I did but I just knew. Devera’s voice had somehow conveyed some kind of knowledge of my Brother’s demise. I sat staring at my desk not daring to look up and meet eyes with the professors fearful that they would confirm what I already knew. Brennan was dead and so was Naolin the person who meant everything to Bren even if he would never tell.

Brennan was dead.

But someone else asked for me. “Who were the members of the squadron,” a shaky voice, likely another younger sibling.

“The Squadron was comprised of: Antonia Hows - an ice welder, Mayra Rice - an air wielder, Jaxson Wixinstien - a visual manipulator, Brax Sahali” There's a sharp intake of breath from one of the fourth wing squads “- an astral projector, Naolin Velasco” there are whispers with this name Tairn, Tairn’s rider. But all I can think of is the certainty that Brennan is gone. “- the siphon and Brennan Sorrengail - the mender.” I remember breathing in deeply through my nose and swallowing. Eyes were suddenly on me with force the name Sorrengail means something in these parts it always has.

Brennan was dead.

I asked for the report and was told it wasn't being distributed to cadets, I asked if it was being distributed to family. I was told it was at the desecration of the general. The General said no.

That night I crept into the archives I searched high and low until I found it and her. It seemed Violet had got there before me. Her features had changed in the year we’d been apart but they were distorted now through tears as she sat reading long reports. We held each other tightly as we read the autopsy, the battle logs everything. That day burned into my soul the words etched into my brain like I was Violet capable of repeating every word I’d ever read i will never forget it.

Brennan was dead.

Brennan was dead. But he isn’t any more.

Brennan was dead or is alive or was dead or is dead.

Brennan was dead.

I don’t sleep that night. But I wake in the morning from a dream I’m scared to examine. Brennan was dead.

I dress slowly in the unfamiliar room and open the door slowly to find a guard at my door.

“Lieutenant Sorrengail,” I nod.

“Is there a Lieutenant Colonel Brennan here? I don’t recall the surname,” there's a desperation in my voice that I wish I could mask.

“There is no Brennan here Miss. That is a Navarrian name, not a Tyrrish one.” Brennan is dead. “Can I take you to the lieutenant colonel perhaps he can aid you,”

“Yes… please,” the desperation won't go and the guard looks at me with something akin to pity.

I walked through vast hallways that reminded me of Castle Calldyr but I barely paid attention till the guard was rapping on an ornate wooden door and a muffled voice was saying enter.

The guard is pushing open the door and gently cajoling me inside before stepping back and closing it gently. The figure at the desk doesn’t look up from the paperwork on their desk as I enter so I don’t speak I stand still and wait.

Brennan was dead.

The room is familiar it reminds me of Mum and Dad’s office back home in Calldyr but it’s all whites and pale browns and marble where as there had been black and deep mahogany with onyx granite surfaces. It’s sleek and modern Navarrian in styling not Tyrrish and a contrast to the rest of this estate. I wonder if he put it together himself or if it was done as a reminder of who he is by someone else. I like it.

Brennan sits up after about 20 minutes his eyes locking with mine. He stands up but doesn't move.

“You shouldn’t be her Mira,” he says covering paperwork with blank pieces of paper, I’m a Sorrengail after all and he is not.

“What’s your name,” it’s a strange ask, but if there’s no Brennan here then he’s changed his entire identity. The only child of two loyal parents of the Tyrrish Apostasy that kind of thing.

“You’ve known me for 26 years, Mira,”

“You used to be Brennan Sorrengail, no Brennan of any kind exists in Tyrrandor.” He breathes a sigh.

“Damien Aiserigh,” I laugh hollowly and he raises an eyebrow.

“Very clever, Aiserigh - Tyrrish for resurrection, Damien - Tyrrish for loyalty but originating from the name Damon which is Navarrian for Silver, with the letter D meaning 30 in numerals. 30 pieces of silver traitor to Navarre, loyal to Tyrrandor,” I laugh again.

“I thought you never paid all that much attention to Dad’s teachings but you got it as quickly as Vi and she was the first person to ever figure it out.”

“Don’t speak to me about our father, Violet might be happy to reminisce with you but I’m not.”

“Violet won’t discuss it either, you’re not unique in that way Mira.” His tone is dry and I hate it it speaks of boredom and having better. Things to do. “What are you doing here Mira, who brought you there’s sensitive information all over here and I have a meeting in five minutes,”

“Shall I go, find someone to shove me in the dungeons I'm sure there are some promises diplomats around to lock me up or some Tyrrish ones,”

“Mira.” The voice is short.

“Yes, Damien,”

“Don’t call me that,”

I’d have said something else in the past but the idea of getting into a petty name argument is to siblingy to Bren and Miry, not Mira and Brennan.

“don’t you care how many people you’ve killed, don’t you feel remorse for the families you’ve torn apart.” He accuses.

“It happens on both sides of the border Damien, they killed my friends as well,”

“You don’t have friends Mira, you never have,”

“I had friends. Had friends. Get it because they're dead. I’m not ashamed of what I did to avenge them and protect myself,”

“You killed innocent people, innocent flyers,”

“What’s the difference between a flyer and a rider Brennan do explain it to me, they fought to protect their home we fought to protect ours we didn't have the full story that’s the only fucking difference,” I’m raising my voice now his disregard for me, for his fucking sister hurts.

“You killed civilians Mira, battle of Strythmore, I read the reports,”

“So did they, attack on Draithus, a school was blown up with their explosive arrows,”

“It’s propaganda Mira use your fucking head.”

“I WAS THERE. Don’t you fucking tell me to use my head? You use yours there is no good and evil not with soldiers were weapons used by the elites to fulfil their agendas, they killed civilians to Brennan.”

“You personally, singlehandedly slaughtered a village. They did not.”

“I have never laid hands upon a child don’t you dare accuse me of such a thing.” “You have killed more children through your strategies with the flyers than I ever have. Read the fucking report at Strythmore if you know it so well I didn’t do it for Navarre I did it because they killed my friend, stripped the skin of her back and burnt her to death, I killed them for it. I have no remorse.”

“Mira,”

“Don’t you Mira me, don’t pretend to care.”

“I do care,”

“No you fucking don’t, if you did your first words to me this morning would have been an apology or asking me if I’m alright but instead it’s ‘Why are you here,’ let me cover up my paperwork because I don’t trust you,”

“Do you blame me,”

“Who else is there to blame, you left us Brennan, you destroyed our lives for what? This is not a successful revolution in a thriving city you’ve accomplished nothing in six years but destroying your own family,” he shoves me hard and I smack my head into the wall.

“Scared of the truth, don’t want to hear it. You killed our father,”

“He died two years later,”

“He died six months later after a series of heart attacks that followed reading your gruesome death autopsy,”

“Six months,” “well that autopsy was a fabrication as well so that’s hardly my fault,”

“You stayed dead Brennan, you choose strangers over your family,”

“Yes because our mother was such a good-” “Don’t you fucking pretend to be hard done by her your not Vi you can’t claim that accolade, she loved you more than anything in the fucking world Brennan,”

“She sent me to die,”

“She fought on the front lines all her life Brennan she was there up until you left the quadrant or did you forget this in your desire to feel mistreated and betrayed,”

“We were your family, we mourned you,”

“I mourned you, I missed you,”

“You didn’t miss me enough, didn't miss Violet enough,”

“Violet is not acting like this, she gets it,”

“Is that what you say to let you sleep at night, you don’t know anything about Violet. You don’t love her like I do. I’d die rather than leave her, rather than betray her.” I take a shaky breath. “You are ten years older than her Brennan anything you know is outdated information, you are four years older than me but six years changes people a great deal you know. You’ve changed beyond recognition. Have I?”

“I made a choice Mira I weighed the odds, and I chose what was right for the continent,”

“No Brennan you choose the easy option don’t kid yourself stay in Tyrrandor have a cushy job making treaties and patting yourself on the back with your fucking assembly that you're doing the right thing. Well, I’m sorry the right thing would have been to come home and use your social standing as the eldest child of a dynasty descended from the first 6, as someone from one of the wealthiest Navarrian households to make a fucking stand. Violet has made more of a stand in the last 3 days than you have in three years by forcing Riorson’s hand and making him tell the cadets.”

“You know who had social standing Fen Riorson,”

“You know who had more YOU.” “We like to pretend that were an honest good military family, we had more fucking resources at our disposal than the Tauri dynasty. Nobody had really heard of the Riorsons until the succession unless you were Tyrrish or involved with the aristocracy, everyone has heard the name Sorrengail. So get the fuck off your high horse,”

“I’m late for my meeting Mira we can finish this another time, I’ll find you later,”

“Please don’t bother Brennan, you made your choices I made mine, Violet made hers. You just made shitty ones, but you won't admit it. Go to your meeting you chose them after all not us. Riorson and Tavis and the rest there your replacements for me and Violet goes strategies with them instead of cleaning up the mess you made of your family,”

“Your acting out Mira like a fucking spoilt brat,”

“You acting like we mean nothing to you Brennan and that hurts.”

“You mean something to me,”

“Not enough, you were everything to me and you abandoned me,”

“Mira,”

“How does it feel to not get your way, Brennan?”

“I never pretended this was an easy decision,”

“No, you didn’t you implied it, GO on get to your meeting fuck off,”

“I can’t leave you in here with my paperwork,”

“Why because I’m a Sorrengail, well Brennan you are too,”

“I wish I wasn’t every day,”

“Glad you finally admitted it so I’ll leave and let you get back to the city you loved more than us,”

“I did miss you, Mira,”

“Don’t kid yourself,”

“Mira,”

“Miry,” I turn then and smash my fist into his jaw.

“Don’t you fucking call me that, you're not my brother or my sister you can’t call me that,”

“I’m your Fucking brother,”

“My brother died a long time ago,”

“Mira, let me make it right. Sit down we can talk we can do anything please,”

“I wanted to talk earlier you didn’t, thank you for your time Lieutenant Colonel” I walk out the door to the panicking shout of:

“MIRA”

#the empyrean #fourthwing fanfic #Fourthwing birthday bash

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