Hi! 👋
My name’s Mathilde, but you can call me Mat/Matilda/Tilly (she/her).
I started writing fanfiction not long ago, and you might have come across Dragonborn on AO3, which is a side story for Fourth Wing.
Although English isn’t my first language, I’ve been reading in English for quite some time, so it felt natural to start writing in it rather than in French (or Spanish… or German—I love learning new languages!). But I always welcome constructive feedback on my writing!
I’ve gotten a few questions recently, so here I am, trying to answer them! Feel free to ask more if there’s anything else you’re curious about. 😊
//
Do you have an update schedule?
Not at all! I update as I go. Sometimes I post a chapter and then end up editing it a few minutes later because I’m always too eager to share it with you all.
How do you write so quickly?
Honestly, I don’t sleep much. I've struggled with insomnia most of my life, but I’ve recently started working on it. So, I might write a bit slower going forward, but hopefully, the content will be better with a well-rested mind!
Is Elysande going to join the Riders Quadrant?
... I'll let you figure that one out.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Hi, friends 💜
It’s been a while. Months, actually. And during that time, so many of you have left kind, encouraging, beautifully patient comments—some funny, some heart-wrenchingly sweet—and I want you to know: I read every single one. They made me smile when I really needed it. I just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to reply.
(Shoutout to imposter syndrome for being the clingiest, most dramatic side character in this whole saga.)
Truth is, I’ve been going through some personal stuff that pulled me away from the story. But this past week, I finally sat down, reopened the draft… and started again. Chapter 51 is the result.
It’s messy. Experimental. A blend of writing exercise and emotional chaos. A new POV. Letters. Some longing. And maybe a bit of unresolved tension you could cut with a dull spoon.
I hope you enjoy it. Truly. And thank you for sticking with me.
in honor of @fairytalebang, this week's word is...
How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.
not sure about that scene yet but it is in my wips. so here we go:
-
"Elysande," he warns, greens eyes boring into mine. "Did I ever, once, make you feel like I thought you were broken?"
The question stills the air between us.
"What?" I blink, thrown off balance.
He holds me tighter. "That letter. What you said. ‘I'm not broken, I'm not scared.’ Like you thought I might see you that way. Like I'd ever treat you like something to be fixed."
"Halden—"
"No. Don't brush it off. Answer me. Have I ever made you feel like that?"
My throat tightens. "No."
"Are you lying to make me feel better?" His hands slide down my back. "Because if I did—if anything I did made you feel that way—I need to know. I need to fix it."
I stare at him. This man who can command an entire army with one word.
"You didn't. You never did. I promise."
Relief flashes through his features. "Thank fuck."
His hands slide lower. And suddenly, I'm weightless. I clutch at his shoulders, barely keeping up with the change in gravity, and then his mouth finds mine again. Slower this time. Surer. A kiss that promises you're not escaping this tonight.
Elysande (teasingly): "I should probably shower first."
Halden (boldly): "Fuck the shower. I want you like this. Sweat, salt, and skin."
...And now I need a cold shower. But if only that was it!
Elysande (mock chastened): "Is this the part where you tie me to the bed, Halden?"
Halden (provocative): "Is that something you think I'd be into?"
Elysande (deadpan delight): "You're very commanding."
Halden (dark smile): "And you have dangerous fantasies."
Game on.
(yes, I write the dialogues before everything else)
Featuring:
– magical burnout
– emotional confrontations
– Garrick being the best kind of bestie
– Bodhi breaking (again)
– Xaden knowing everything (yeah, he definitely heard Bodhi's intentions/thoughts)
Quote of the chapter:
"He better be worth every lie you're choking on."
🥀 I'm so sorry to Bodhi. I love him the most, I swear.
🔥 I started editing next chapter, Halden's POV, getting his hands on our El and boy... I need a cold shower.
Okay, so next chapter happens in Basgiath and I think this is my favourite moment, Elysande calling it!
I scoff, but it's brittle. "Right. Well, sorry to disappoint. Not all of us can have emotionally sterile entanglements and call it a day."
Xaden lifts a brow. "Sterile?"
"Emotionally," I correct, grinning even as something twists tighter in my chest. "Anyway, you're not immune, Xaden Riorson. One day, you're going to fall. Hard. So hard your shadow won't know what hit it. You'll find someone who loves you so fiercely, those steel-reinforced walls of yours won't stand a chance."
He gives me a long look. Dark. Unreadable. "I'll take my chances with steel walls, thanks."
"Oh. It's going to be glorious. When that day comes, I will be gloating. With banners. And parades. And dramatic quotes of your dumbest declarations. I've got a pretty good memory."
Xaden shakes his head, but he's smiling, the kind of smile that feels like a sigh disguised as amusement. "Gods, you're hopeless."
"Hopelessly right," I counter, jabbing him lightly in the ribs with my elbow. "You'll see. Some poor, stunning soul is going to fall for all your brooding and emotional scars and your completely unnecessary angst. And when she does—"
"—She'll run screaming," he deadpans.
"She'll ruin you. In the best way. You'll get her flowers in the morning. You'll write letters, just like your father. You'll want to tell her everything you never told a soul. And suddenly, all that duty you cling to? Gone. Because she'll matter more than Tyrrendor. And when you realise she's your entire world, you'll send Garrick to fetch me for the wedding. Because you'll know I'll kill you if you don't."
And Xaden… Xaden lifts his head, onyx eyes flicking between Bodhi and me.
The silence stretches.
"I thought you were resting in Calldyr," Xaden tells Garrick.
"Well, as tempted as I was, I didn't," Garrick fires back, flexing his hands.
Bodhi still hasn't moved. His hands are clenched now around the suture needle, bloodied thread limp between his fingers. "What the fuck?"
I don't answer. I'm too busy trying to breathe through the roaring heat in my chest. The thousand unspoken things between us.
"Sorry Bodhi." Garrick cringes. "I thought Imogen would be stitching Xaden up."
The first thing I feel is the hand on my shoulder. Steady. Urgent.
Then the voice follows, dragging me up from the depths of whatever half-dead state I collapsed into hours ago.
"Hey, kiddo. Wake up."
My brain, still sticky with exhaustion, flinches at the sound. My lashes drag apart, and a blurred shape resolves slowly above me in the dark.
I groan, throat dry, limbs heavy like I've been buried under stone. "Halden, you're supposed to be—" My voice scratches to a stop as recognition finally catches up. I jerk upright too fast. The world tilts. My bed sheets are tangled, my nightgown sticking to my skin with sweat.
Can you guess who's making a beautiful, chaotic entrance next chapter?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"You're mine right now."
(Flirting rights revoked. Arrest this man.)
That's it. I'm arresting him. Life sentence. In my bed.
(Elysande's words, not mine... although... technically...)
Slow burn? Nah. This is a simmering inferno with no release date in sight. ENJOY ☺️
I tried to write something soft... but somehow it turned feral anyway. There are confessions. Kind of. Not entirely honest, but they bleed.
There’s tension. There’s heat. There’s a very personal reading glasses kink (don’t judge me). Also, El says the single most unhinged line ever spoken in a formal meeting. Pull it together, girl. (But maybe… we’ve all been there? Just me?)
Bonus chapter, Osric POV from chapter 48's kiss scene™
(aka: the moment Osric realises he's the side character in someone else's swoony, magical, epic romance)
Because apparently Halden and Elysande decided to have The Kiss™ on a public staircase like the rest of the world doesn't exist??
So here's Osric’s POV, featuring:
🤺 Legendary secondhand embarrassment
👀 A romance novel unfolding in real time
🎭 Eveline casually spiralling
🔥 One epic kiss that alters the gravitational pull of the plot
A line I didn’t think would make the cut: "I think I just spontaneously ovulated." (Disturbingly, not the first time I've said that out loud. Eveline might be more autobiographical than intended.)
This is not a drill. The side characters are not okay.
(Neither is Osric. He needs therapy. Or tequila. He'll knock back whiskey with Halden like a good soldier, sure, but let's be honest, this man was born for mezcal-fueled existential spirals and emotionally-charged bar fights.)
🤺🎭👀
OSRIC
I've witnessed many things in my life.
A wyvern tearing through a cliff face. Well, no, but Daemian did and told me about it. Cam taking me down without breaking a sweat. Not my proudest moment. Violet agreeing to date me… after weeks of relentless charm. But this?
This.
This is the thing that will haunt me.
We stop on the stairs mid-argument, Evie utterly ravishing in that dress that used to send me into… and me just trying not to think about the fact that I could get it off her. Technically.
And then Halden just, swoops in with a "hey."
Simple. Quiet. That voice of his that somehow still manages to command the entire godsdamned corridor.
Elysande turns, and Halden—
Halden kisses her. He kisses her!
Just—
Right there. In front of us. In the middle of the staircase. Like they're the last two people on the Continent and the rest of us are background noise at best.
His hand cradles her jaw like she's made of stardust and poetry. They're both messes. But they look…
Holy shit, they look ruined for anyone else.
Evie, beside me, gasps. I mean literally gasps. She grabs my arm like she needs to anchor herself.
Daemian, on the other side, mutters, "well, shit." And I swear to all the skies, I can hear him actively reconsidering his own deadline for the ongoing bet.
But me? I go still. I feel it. That kiss doesn't just land. It detonates. Quietly. Powerfully. It's the kind of kiss that makes poets weep and cynics believe and me… question everything.
Because I've kissed Violet Sorrengail. Multiple times. Lovingly. Devotedly. I love kissing her.
But I've never kissed her, or anyone for that matter, like that.
And I am not okay.
"Do you…" I whisper, leaning slightly toward Daemian without breaking eye contact with the unfolding godsdamned romance novel, "do you think they even know we're here?"
"No," Daemian deadpans, "they're in a different dimension. One where people ascend from prolonged eye contact."
Elysande moans—audibly—when Halden brushes her collarbone. She's done for.
Eveline clutches my arm tighter, voice low and absolutely feral. "I need a cold bath."
"That makes two of us," I wheeze.
"I think I just spontaneously ovulated."
"Gods, Evie!"
But it doesn't matter. Because Halden is murmuring something into Freckles's skin now, and I catch a whisper of "Elysande," and it sounds like a vow. Like he's offering her the whole fucking world and she's about to say yes.
He brushes her sleeve. She melts. And Halden?
He looks at her like he's been waiting a lifetime for this moment and he's just realised he'd wait ten more if it meant getting to kiss her like this.
I blink. I forget how to breathe. I elbow Daemian, hard. "You lost the bet. He's back."
Daemian grunts. "He's gone. There's no coming back from this."
Eveline nods solemnly, eyes wide and glittering. "I've never seen them like that. I didn't know it was like that… It's my new empire."
Halden's hand slips beneath Elysande's sleeve and she gasps again.
"Oh my gods," I whisper. "Is this what it feels like to be the side character in someone else's epic romance?"
Daemian snorts. "Shut up and take notes."
And I do. Because I know what this is. I know what we're seeing.
We're not just witnessing a moment.
We're witnessing the axis tilt.
And gods help us, if this is what they're like before they sleep together…?
Chapter 48 preview of my favourite moment so far...
There's someone in my bed.
My breath catches. My eyes crack open, just a sliver, because I need the confirmation—
Yes.
Stretched beside me, not under the blankets—of course, he wouldn't—but draped lazily across the top of them like he's always belonged. One arm tucked behind his head, the other holding my book open across his chest.
He's wearing reading glasses. Those damned glasses I found buried in his nightstand nearly a year ago, the ones I'm certain no one else has ever seen him wear. Not in public. Probably not even around his best friends. They shouldn't suit him. But… damn it, they do.
The mage light hovers just above his shoulder, soft and golden, illuminating his face in quiet halos. He's focused, lips tugging faintly into something that might be a smile, and it's—oh—it's the notes. He's reading my annotations.
"If you keep talking like this… this room will not survive it." His eyes dart to the walls, to the old bookshelves, to me.
"That would make the next Small Council meeting much more interesting," he teases, eyes settling on the table.
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