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soulofapatrick · 3 months ago

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“Just trying to make sure you’re okay,” - Garrick Tavis x female reader

Summary: Oren tries to kiss you but you defend yourself before Garrick can intervene

Warnings: almost non-con kiss; mainly fluff

Words: 3.2k

Y/N's POV

The courtyard is quiet tonight, almost too quiet, as I speed walk through it to get back to the dorms before anyone finds me out of bed. But, of course, nothing can go smoothly because suddenly Oren is appearing in front of me, backing me into one of the darker corners of the yard. His hand clamps tightly around my wrist, blunt nails digging into my skin painfully through my riding leathers as he looks me up and down like some piece of meat.

“What are you doing Oren?!” I grit out, trying to pull my arm free, but his hold seems to only tighten, nails probably drawing blood.

Oren doesn’t listen. Instead, he ignores me completely, yanking me closer, and I nearly gag at the stench that hits me. Up close, he reeks of sweat and stale air, his skin slick with it. His breath is hot and foul, making my stomach turn as he leans in, eyes dark with something I don’t want to acknowledge.

My heart pounds in my chest, the courtyard spinning around me as he comes even closer.

“Stop!” I mutter, but the word is stuck in my throat, barely audible as his lips hover just inches from mine. His breath is suffocating, thick and sour, and I want to recoil, but I can’t. My chest tightens, and my heart is pounding so loud it drowns out everything around me. I feel trapped, the space between us shrinking with each breath, with every disgusting inch he moves closer. My skin crawls under his touch, his nails digging deeper into my wrist, sending sharp waves of pain through my arm. I want to scream, to thrash, but it’s as if my body refuses to cooperate, frozen in fear.

I want to cry.

I feel my throat tighten with the urge, tears threatening to sting my eyes as panic bubbles up inside me. My mind races, searching for something—anything—to pull me out of this moment, to make this stop. But my voice is gone, stuck in my throat like a heavy stone.

I can hear Nyx in the back of my mind, a low growl vibrating through our bond. She senses my fear, my disgust, and it only amplifies her anger. Her presence is fierce, hot like the flames she can command, and it’s enough to remind me that I’m not helpless. I’m not weak.

And then I see it—movement. Out of the corner of my eye, two familiar forms lurking in the shadows. Xaden and Garrick. They’re close. Watching. I know they see what’s happening. The sight snaps me out of my stupor, adrenaline spiking in my veins like lightning. Something clicks in me. No. Not me—something else takes over, something fierce and powerful. Before I know it, my body moves on its own. My left fist swings up, and I don’t even think about the impact before it happens. My knuckles collide with Oren’s face, bone meeting flesh in a sickening crack.

The satisfaction is instant, a surge of power and pride washing over me as Oren stumbles back, clutching his cheek. His cry is sharp, high-pitched, almost girlish. My hand throbs with the blow, but the rush of adrenaline drowns out the pain.

He swears, stumbling as he tries to recover. “You—bitch,” he spits out, the word snarled through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of shock and fury. “Fucking crazy”

“Get the hell away from me,” I growl, voice finally steady, stronger than I thought possible. My arm is still throbbing, his nails having left deep indents, but I don’t care. Not anymore. Oren’s curses fill the air, each word sharper than the last as he stumbles, clutching his crooked, bleeding nose. His eyes burn with rage, and for a split second, I see him move forward, his hand dropping from his face as if he’s actually going to try something. My heart races again, but this time it’s different—I’m ready. My body hums with the rush of adrenaline, my hands balled into fists at my sides.

Then, behind me, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Slow. Purposeful.

Xaden and Garrick emerge from the shadows like predators stalking their prey. They move in unison, lethal grace in every step. The tension in the air thickens, and Oren’s fury falters, replaced with something that looks like fear.

“You heard her.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the night like a blade, low and gruff, full of menace. It’s a command, not a suggestion, and it stops Oren in his tracks. His eyes flick between the two of them, the anger quickly draining from his face. For a moment, Oren looks like he wants to argue, but Xaden’s glare alone is enough to pin him in place. He swears under his breath, a mangled sound of frustration and pain, before finally turning on his heel, scampering away like a beaten dog.

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, the tension in my chest loosening as I watch him disappear into the darkness. The courtyard feels eerily quiet now, the only sounds the fading echo of Oren’s footsteps and the faint rustle of wind through the trees.

Before I can say anything, Xaden melts back into the shadows as swiftly as he appeared, his dark form blending with the night. I barely have time to open my mouth to thank him before he’s gone.

Now, it’s just me and Garrick.

The quiet between us feels thick but not uncomfortable. It’s like the night is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. His presence beside me is steady, a calm strength that I’ve come to rely on without even realising it. But tonight, it feels different. More intense, charged in a way I wasn’t expecting. His hazel eyes settle on me, soft but filled with something that makes my heart stutter, my pulse quickening under his gaze.

“Let me walk you back to your room," Garrick says, his voice deep and low, almost gravelly. There’s a protective edge to it, but also a gentleness that sends warmth flooding through me.

I nod softly, glancing up at him. Garrick is…Garrick. Pale skin that seems to glow in the moonlight, dark, messy curls that tumble around his face, and those striking hazel eyes that always seem to catch the light just right. His broad shoulders seem to take up twice the space as anyone else, his hulking frame making him appear almost too large for the quiet intimacy of this moment. He’s always towered over everyone, but there’s something comforting about it now, like his sheer size alone is enough to keep me safe from anything.

As we start walking, his footsteps slow and deliberate, he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "You handled yourself well back there," he murmurs, the compliment soft but sincere. His voice sends shivers down my spine, but in a good way.

“Thanks,” I mumble, still trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened. My hand instinctively goes to rub the sore spot on my wrist where Oren’s grip had been, the skin tender and red. My heart hasn’t fully calmed yet, the adrenaline still rushing through my veins.

Out of nowhere, I see a flicker of movement in the shadows, and before I can stop myself, I jump, my body reacting before my mind can. My hand flies out, gripping Garrick’s without thinking. My heart slams against my ribs, panic from the encounter with Oren still fresh in my mind.

His hand tightens around mine instantly, strong and reassuring. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate, just holds on, steady and unshakable. The warmth of his palm grounds me, the way his fingers curl around mine making me feel safe, like nothing can touch me as long as he’s here.

“Easy,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “It’s just a shadow.”

I nod, trying to steady my breathing as he leads me toward the dorm building. My heart is still hammering in my chest, but not just from the fear. There’s something else now, something unexpected. The way his hand feels in mine, the way he’s so calm, so present—it makes my stomach flip.

The dorm building looms ahead, dimly lit and quiet in the night. First-year cadets stay on the first floor, second years on the second, third years on the third. I’ve been here long enough to know the routine, and I expect him to lead me straight to my dorm on the first floor.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, we head up the stairs, each step making my pulse race a little faster. My hand stays firmly in his, his grip never loosening as he guides me upward. I glance up at him, confusion mixing with excitement. My nerves tingle as we climb higher and higher, past the first floor, then the second. My heart flutters in my chest, excitement thrumming through me as I realize where we’re heading.

He’s leading me to his floor.

I don’t ask why, and he doesn’t offer an explanation, but I don’t need one. The nervous energy swirling inside me is enough to keep me silent, anticipation sparking with every step.

We stop outside a door near the end of the hall, Garrick’s door. He pulls out a key and unlocks it with a quiet click. The door swings open, and he holds it for me, his broad frame taking up nearly the entire doorway. I duck under his arm, heart fluttering as I step inside.

His room is simple but unmistakably his. There’s a neatly made bed, sheets dark and crisp, and a large window with the moonlight streaming in, casting a silvery glow across the stone floor. A few personal belongings are scattered here and there—a well-worn book on the bedside table, boots tossed in the corner, and his riding gear draped over a chair. The space smells faintly of leather and something distinctly him, something warm and grounding. It’s comforting, yet I can’t help but feel a little out of place, unsure of why he’s brought me here instead of my own room.

Before I can ask, Garrick disappears into the small ensuite off to the side. I stand awkwardly near the bed, glancing around the room, feeling the nervous buzz in my stomach only grow stronger. A moment later, he returns, a small first aid kit in his hand.

It’s only then I notice the blood dripping down my arm, the dull ache in my wrist now sharp and stinging. Oren’s grip had cut deeper than I realized, nail marks leaving angry red trails down my skin.

Garrick’s eyes flick to my arm, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He guides me to sit on the edge of his bed, his touch gentle but firm. I swallow hard, trying to calm my racing heart as he kneels between my legs, settling there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

But my mind goes somewhere else entirely.

The sight of him kneeling between my legs, his large hands carefully rolling up my sleeve, sends a rush of heat through me that has nothing to do with the pain in my arm. He’s so close—so achingly close—that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, the scent of leather and something distinctly Garrick enveloping us. My heart races, each thump echoing in my ears, the quiet of the room amplifying the moment in a way that feels almost intimate.

His hazel eyes flicker to the cuts on my forearm, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s fully aware of the effect he has on me, the way my breath hitches in my throat as he hovers near. It’s as if he knows what this proximity does to me, and a thrill runs through my veins at the realization that maybe, just maybe, I do the same to him. I see the slight dilation of his pupils, the way his breathing slows as he focuses entirely on me, and my body ignites with a mix of nervous energy and undeniable desire.

The sting of the antiseptic pulls me back to reality, yet it only sharpens the knot of yearning tightening in my stomach. I try to remind myself this is just a simple first-aid moment, but the heat in the room feels electric. My mind races with thoughts of how his hands would feel against my skin, exploring in ways that have nothing to do with cuts and bruises.

And before I can stop myself, my fingers find his dark curls, threading through them like they were meant to be touched. They’re even softer than I imagined, silky and thick, each strand slipping between my fingers as if inviting me to pull him closer. I don’t realize how tightly I’m holding on until Garrick lets out a low, choked sound, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, his body freezing for just a moment.

The sound sends a jolt of electricity through me, awakening something primal and teasing in my nature. I can’t help the smirk that plays at my lips as I notice the flush creeping up his neck. He tries to regain his composure, but there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in his hazel eyes as he looks up at me, and I wonder if he feels the same pull I do.

“Sorry,” I murmur, feigning innocence even though my heart races with excitement. But it’s not just an apology; it’s an invitation. I want to see how he reacts, to push the boundaries just a little further.

As he resumes tending to my arm, his hands brushing against my skin send shivers racing up my spine. The intimacy of the moment is almost dizzying, and I can’t ignore the way he leans in slightly, the heat of his body melding with mine, the tension between us crackling like wildfire. I bite my lip, a mix of shyness and daring coursing through me as I realize I’m enjoying this far too much.

Garrick’s fingers linger on the edge of my sleeve, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel if he slid them higher, if he let himself explore the curve of my arm, the pulse in my wrist. The thought sends a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I catch the briefest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Just trying to make sure you’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, that teasing glint in his eye making it hard to breathe. And in that moment, the space between us feels charged, electric—like the very air around us is begging to be ignited.

Taking a leap of faith, I tug gently on his curls again, tilting his head up just enough to meet his gaze. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, the world outside fades away. My heart races, a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty swirling within me. Is this too far? But as I lean in, I can feel the heat radiating between us, a magnetic pull that draws me closer.

Before I can overthink it, Garrick surges up, closing the gap in a heartbeat. Our lips collide softly at first, a tentative exploration filled with the sweetness of newfound desire. His lips are plush and soft against mine, as if they were made for this very moment. I feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both.

As the kiss deepens, the hesitance gives way to something hotter and more fervent. Garrick shifts, rising over me, and the solid weight of him pressing me into the bed sends a thrill coursing through my veins. The sensation of his body enveloping me, so solid yet incredibly soft, feels intoxicating. His hands find my hips, fingers digging in just enough to elicit a gasp from my lips, while the other hand weaves into my hair, tilting my head to give him better access.

Every brush of his fingers against my skin sends shivers racing through me, igniting a burning desire I can no longer ignore. I run my hands up his chest, feeling the strength in his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. My fingers trace over the defined contours, relishing the solid warmth of him. His chest and abs are firm, but there’s an underlying softness that invites me to explore further, to push the boundaries of what’s possible between us.

The kiss grows more passionate, more desperate, as if we’re both trying to convey everything we’ve felt but couldn’t say. My heart races, each thump echoing in my ears, urging me to hold on tighter, to pull him closer. I can feel the heat radiating off him, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as the kiss deepens into something raw and hungry.

Garrick’s hands move with a gentle but possessive touch, gripping my hips as he hovers above me, his body fitting perfectly against mine. It’s as if we were always meant to be this way, lost in each other’s embrace, with every kiss unraveling a new layer of longing and connection.

As we kiss, I feel a surge of confidence blooming within me. This is right—this connection, this spark between us. I pull him closer, my fingers threading through his hair, deepening the kiss as I lose myself in the moment. Time seems to stand still, the world outside fading away, leaving only Garrick and me in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

I never want to stop kissing Garrick. Each brush of his lips against mine sends waves of warmth radiating through me, igniting a passion I didn’t know existed. I get lost in the taste of him, the softness, the way he fits against me perfectly as if we’re two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

But eventually, the kiss softens, and I can feel him pulling away, breathless and heated. His hazel eyes, usually so calm and steady, are now dark with desire, filled with a fire that leaves me wanting more. I see the flush on his pale skin, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, mirroring my own racing heart.

Garrick leans back slightly, though his hands remain resting on my hips, grounding us both in this moment. “We should... probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a mixture of longing and reluctance.

I can hear the unspoken words lingering in the air, the promise of more to come. “We can continue this later,” he adds, a teasing smile playing on his lips, as if he knows just how much he affects me.

A breathless laugh escapes me, the reality of what we’ve just shared sinking in. “Yeah, later,” I echo, feeling the heat radiate between us even as he pulls away fully.

The space between us feels both empty and electric, the remnants of our kisses hanging in the air like an unbroken promise. I watch him, heart pounding, already anticipating the next time our lips will meet, the next chance to explore this new, thrilling connection but knowing he’s mine and I’m his, sinking into his soft, Garrick smelling bed for the night.

Fourth Wing Masterlist - To be made Comment to be added to tag list

#Garrick Tavis #garrick tavis x reader #Garrick Tavis x you #Garrick Tavis x y/n #Garrick Tavis fourth wing #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #Garrick Tavis imagine #Garrick Tavis fluff #Garrick Tavis angst #Garrick Tavis smut #Garrick fourth wing #fourth wing Garrick Tavis #fourth wing x you #fourth wing x y/n #fourth wing fluff #fourth wing smut #fourth wing angst

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she-whatshername · 5 months ago

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Rereading a lot of the character descriptions as I polish up the fourth and fifth chapter of Drifted (TBH, some of these descriptions in both books are disappointingly vague), and I have come to the conclusion, Tyrrish men are built like rugby players, right?

From growing up with and having many friends who play, that is all I envision.

Broad shoulders, tall as shit, thick necks (I cackled when I first read that). These are not lean, mean fighting machines. Violet wants to climb Xaden like a tree because he’s physically built like one, right? lol

Also, same goes for Imogen. The lady is stacked.

Just my weird editing thoughts.

New Chapters out this week!

#fourth wing #the empyrean #xaden riorson #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #imogen cardulo #iron flame #countdown to cree #bodhi x oc #tyrrish men headcanons you didn't ask for

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quietstormxr · 25 days ago

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Found You Again

You'll Survive - Part 2

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence/PTSD

Minor Iron Flame spoilers

Summary: After Garrick finds you still alive, you both have to deal with the consequences of torture, the coming war, and your relationship.

Word Count: <10k

A/N: Get a beverage and get comfy, this is going to be a long one. Got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be three parts. I have a few more scenes I want to add and didn't want to cram them all here! Hope y'all don't mind.

All it takes is a moment and you are shooting up from the bed that you had apparently been laying in. A scream still tearing from your throat as you scan your surroundings frantically. There are beads of sweat pouring from your temples and you can feel your heart beating a rapid staccato that you can’t seem to control.

As you continue to heave breaths in and out you wildly search from left to right for any threats, the lingering phantom of hands holding you down ghosting across your skin.

Your eyes finally snag on another pair staring at you with agonizing sorrow. You can’t help the way you scramble back out of the bed and as far away from the figure as you can. Your brain tries to remind you this figure won’t hurt you, but you can’t seem to connect the thoughts with the remnants of your dream that felt more like reality.

Your back finally hits cold stone and that makes you turn and jump again; memories of your head being smashed into the same type of stone only days ago vivid in your mind.

As the present slowly comes into focus and your dream fades away, your heartbeat slowing to a more reasonable rhythm, you finally begin to process the room in front of you.

There’s no longer the smell of rotten earth and the metallic iron of dried blood, the floors are clean and there’s a large window showing the beginning cracks of sunlight rising from the horizon. You try to continue taking deep breaths as your gaze finally sweeps back to the pair of eyes that had you scrambling back before.

You meet the hazel gaze that shines with unshed tears and a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. No one could miss the way that he is holding himself to the chair that he has been sitting in, obviously an effort not to move or scare you. You can hear the wood of the chair creaking under the pressure and his knuckles turning his pale skin even whiter.

You both stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, neither one of you speaking seeming to not want to break the spell that you’re both in.

You slowly begin to straighten yourself from the shrunken in shape you had taken when waking from your nightmare. As you do, you notice that you are no longer in your torn and shredded flight leathers you were tortured in. Now, you are in oversized training clothes that you know must be Garrick’s. Your hand moves to your hair and the strands slide through your fingers. Someone must have bathed and changed you after you were mended.

You continue to look around the room you are in and take in the way that it looks lived in and has notes of Garrick all around. There’s a tapestry over the large inner wall that has a desk in front of it and a weapons rack right next to it. You can’t help the way you notice the number of swords that are littered on the other wall making rainbow of glittering sharp weapons.

Out the corner of your eye, you can see Garrick’s form slowly move from grasping the chair with a death grip to relaxing his hands in his lap. You swallow, noting the scratch of your throat as you do. The memory of the scream you awoke to striking in your mind. You bring your hand up to your throat and tap, hoping that he will understand the gesture and get you some water.

Garrick gives you a short nod before he moves to the small table that is beside the bed. You watch as he pours a glass of water before turning back to you and slowly making his way to where you stand. Neither one of you deigns to speak as if either of you do the spell will be broken.

As he hands you the glass, you give him a curt nod before taking a few steps out of his reach. His eyes continue to look pained, and his arm falls back to his side as if in defeat.

You slowly take sips of the water trying to relish in the way the liquid quells the scratch of your throat. It doesn’t escape your notice that something that was so trivial now seems to be such a luxury. The use of your hands, a mended body, the ability to move away from someone whether a threat or not. You hold onto the glass with both hands as you continue to drink the water while walking back to the bed. You sit on the side and let your body drop back in relief of not being restrained.

Emotions hit you hard suddenly and you look at your hands noticing the way they’ve begun to tremble. You let yourself slide from the bed onto the floor carefully placing the glass at your side. As you finally make contact with the ground, you clasp your hands together trying to steady them. Leaning your head against the mattress, you can’t control the gasp that leaves your mouth as your throat constricts and tears begin to stream down your face. You continue to take gasping breaths as the tears fall and your head stays firmly planted against the mattress.

As the fog of emotion slowly begins to clear, you hear carefully measured footsteps come towards you. Turning your head slightly, you watch as Garrick comes towards you slowly. He crouches down not far from where you’ve melted into the floor, and you notice the tear streaks that mar his pale cheeks. Your gazes collide and there’s nothing but raw, charged emotion hanging in the air. If the last week had never happened, you would be laughing at the way the mountain of muscle before you had become so tentative. Gone was the bravado and over-confident air that seemed to follow him around.

“C-Ca-Can I touch you?” He questions stammering, his tone quiet and reserved.

Your mind is suddenly a cacophony of thoughts. The anger that you’d been clinging onto burning bright, the fear of anyone touching you in any way, and the undeniable want to be held close and safe by the man in front of you waging a war on every front.

“P – Please don’t.” You whisper as the fear and then anger win out over the softer emotions roiling within you.

You know that the fear you’re feeling must have leeched into your voice, because it’s almost as if you can see the heart of the man in front of you breaking as the words leave your mouth.

“What can I do?” He mumbles as he seems to waver on how exactly to move forward.

You look at him with a mix of sadness, resolve, and anger in your features before replying. “Nothing.”

The fear and helplessness you were feeling moments ago morphing into the relentless anger that you had harbored for the man sitting next to you. It’s with that spark of fire that ignites in your body that you find yourself getting up from the floor and marching towards the door.

“Wait!” Garrick calls from behind you as you go to open the door. You’re immediately met with a barrage of sounds that cause you to shrink back. Your eyes wide with pure fear, darting back and forth among the cadets that seem to be milling about wherever you are.

You immediately close the door again, your breaths coming in ragged pants as you plaster yourself to the back of the door. Terrified eyes look back up at Garrick before the questions start rapid firing in your mind.

“Wh-where are we?” The question coming out with pure confusion laced in your words. You knew you couldn’t be at Basgiath, but all those people couldn’t possibly be lieutenants.

“You’re at Riorson House in Aretia.” He says in a calm tone.

“Who are all those people?” Your brows furrow trying to make sense of everything that’s happening all at once.

“They are all the cadets that defected when Riorson and I came for Violet.” As he continues to explain, you watch as he slowly moved forward. His hands are fisted at his sides and look as if they are trying to hold him in place.

“When I finally found you again.” He continues as if the thought of getting to Basgiath for anyone but you wasn’t worth his time to dwell on. His hand starts to reach out for you of its own accord, but he finally realizes, and it falls back to his side.

As the facts start taking shape in your mind, you can’t help the confusion that seems to blanket you as well.

“Defected? Are you telling me that you took me, injured, from the little protections that Navarre does offer?” You incredulously look back at him, your eyes boring into his soul.

Garrick seems taken aback by your phrasing of the question and rage flashes in his eyes. “What protections?” His voice starts to raise slightly as the anger builds.

“Do you really think torturing you within an inch of your life is much protection? Of course, I fucking took you! I wasn’t leaving you with those sadistic fuckers.” He hisses, the switch to anger turning palpable as you see memories haunt his face.

He stops just a few steps from you and brings his face down to be level with yours. “And I would fucking do it again if it means knowing you are safe. I don’t give a shit whether you like it or not.”

Your face contorts into a sneer as the anger you felt before being taken roars back to life. But you aren’t complaining because at least the anger can drown out the fear. With that knowledge, you turn again back to the door and fling it open while Garrick tries to grab your arm, the fear you had shown him forgotten as he tries to catch up with you.

You have no idea where you are going, you are just moving down the hallway trying to get away from the man that is yelling your name. You slink through the cadets that are milling about as fast as you can, using your smaller agile frame against Garrick’s herculean form. You descend the stairs and find a door open to the left and swiftly enter trying to escape.

Unfortunately, it seems Zinhal has other plans for you today. As you suddenly come to a halt you look around and see that you’re obviously now in a training room that regrettably contains Bodhi, Xaden, and Imogen. The three of them turn to you with slight shock on their faces before you can hear Garrick’s voice burst into the room.

“Y/N.” He breathes in an exasperated breath before looking at the other three gathered as well. His eyes seeming to zero in on Bodhi.

You watch as Garrick stomps over to Bodhi with deadly intent. His uncertainty on how to handle the situation with you crumbling all the restraint left to his anger, fear, rage, and powerlessness to fix the torture you had to endure.

“You.” He growls menacingly while staring at him with a murderous gleam.

“You knew she was fucking alive and didn’t think to tell me!” He roars. “I never thought my ‘brother’ would keep something like that from me.”

Bodhi’s face falls completely and that’s when you know that you must step in. You may not be overly friendly with Bodhi, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated badly because of the spot you put him in. You walk in between the two right before Garrick goes to grab Bodhi’s collar. You push Garrick’s hand aside and look up at him with a fire dancing in your own eyes.

“I made that decision for him.” You utter coldly.

Garrick finally removes his gaze from Bodhi and looks down at you, the anger in his eyes softening in some of its sharpness.

“Bodhi told me to write you the minute he saw me land at Basgiath, but I tied his hands.” You explain with no hint of remorse. “You left me behind, all while your little pink girlfriend smirked at me in smug satisfaction. You showed your cards to me, remember?”

Garrick’s anger seems to evaporate, and his entire expression turns into regret, but this time you aren’t swayed.

“Then I went to Eltuval and found myself alone on patrol and learning that venin and wyvern were real. Alone. Something I believe you know a little about.” You add sarcastically as you gesture to the expanse of Riorson House.

Your anger at the whole situation and what you had to face alone comes rushing back. A derisive laugh bubbling up at the predicament you find yourself in.

“You left me behind, told me I would survive without you, then I was left alone on watch and became the number one target for a massive wyvern doing its own patrol of Navarre’s borders.” You revealed while the anger and level of your voice began to rise.

The expression on Garrick’s face is laughable to say the least. You watch as his regret turns to disbelief back to anger and finally lands back on regret.

“That – That’s impossible.” A female voice stammers from behind you.

You huff a humorless laugh and turn towards the voice. You narrow your eyes in a glare at the girl staring back at you in disbelief.

“Tell that to the scars on my back from the wyverns razored feathers.” You say as you stalk towards Violet with an ominous look in your eyes.

“Did you think that your little group was the only one who found themselves the victim of the cadre’s wrath? Did you think they were only after your precious Wingleader?” You spit the derision in your tone obvious as you gesture towards the brooding shadow wielder.

“You are more naïve than I thought if you believe that Colonel Aetos was only going to go after the marked ones alone.” You asserted as you walked into Violet’s space, looking down at the girl who was a few inches shorter than you.

You couldn’t help the mocking laugh that slipped past your lips when you noticed Xaden step up to her back as if you intended on hurting the girl in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Riorson. I have absolutely no intention of hurting your dear girl. I just want her to realize that you weren’t the only ones that the cadre had an issue with.” You sneered with boredom lacing your tone.

“Now if your little family gathering will excuse me.” You gesture towards all the ones gathered there making a circling motion with your hand. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

You take three steps away before you feel a large, calloused hand wrap around your upper arm. You can’t help the way you flinch and your eyes flash at the touch.

“You can’t go out there by yourself. It’s dangerous and anything could happen to you.” Garrick explains sounding like he’s trying to reason with you. You forcefully pull your arm from his grip before turning around.

“No, see here’s where you’re wrong.” You purr with conviction while thrusting your finger into his chest forcefully. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I die,” you shrug your shoulders conveying your nonchalance “then so be it. At least I won’t be haunted by the nightmares any longer.”

“I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.” Garrick barked blocking you from your path.

You take your time looking back directly into those hazel eyes. “You, my dear Garrick, lost your fucking privilege of caring about what I do about five months ago. Why don’t you go rut with one of the other mares in your stable and leave me the fuck alone.”

As you swiftly turn your body and continue your walk, there was no way to avoid hearing the shocked gasps at the words you said. Even though you knew you still loved Garrick, your heart was walled off to him after he became just another one of the men who continued to disappoint you.

Right before you closed the door, you couldn’t help overhearing Garrick’s loud curse and a roaring bang that you surmised must have been a punch to the nearest punching bag or possibly a wall. A small, satisfied smirk crawled across your face when you realized that you could successfully still get under Garrick’s skin.

As soon as you were outside the heavy wooden doors of the fortress, you looked down and noticed the shifting of shadows.

“Leave me the fuck alone Riorson.” You spit while stepping over them.

As you kept walking, you found yourself entering the small, reconstructed town of Aretia. You had heard stories of the burning and due to your interest in geography and history had more knowledge than your average cadet. However, you had no idea where you were going; you just knew that you needed to get away.

You continued along the path, but still noticed the wisp of a shadow that followed you. Clearly Xaden wasn’t going to let you be alone, so you knew what you would have to do to throw off your wisping tail. Without much thought, you walked into the nearest shop that was bustling with townspeople trying to do their daily shopping.

The minute you stepped in, you changed your entire appearance with the aid of Diomat’s power. You made your hair shorter and darker, your eyes a shade of sapphires you hadn’t seen anyone else have and reduced the look of your height. As soon as your looks were fully disguised, you walked back out of the shop. Taking a deep breath when you were finally away from the crowd, and you stepped into the shade of the nearest tree. Looking around for your unfortunate addition, you were happy to find that you must’ve slipped the shadows notice.

When you confirmed there was no longer a wisp following you, you proceeded to continue your walk into town.

You couldn’t help the smile that immediately lit up your face as you watched children playing and mother’s going about their days. Something about seeing this domesticity made your resolve about fighting in the coming war harden. You knew there was no way that you would let these people suffer if you didn’t have to. Especially after experiencing what torture could be doled out from your own cadre, let alone an enemy.

After walking a while, you found a small café and ordered a hot chocolate while sitting at one of the small tables. You sat there watching the calm lives of the civilians outside and continued to smile in your revelry of the small things. You were so engrossed in your own daydream that you startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Looking up in a swift turn, you are surprised to find a pair of liquid silver eyes staring back at you. You couldn’t help the way you appraised the stranger. You had never seen a man with such mesmerizing eyes. You continued to stare at the man in front of you, now noticing his raven hair and warm honey skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you continued appraising the stranger in front of you.

“I’m sorry to bother you. But I had to ask as I was unsure if I was hallucinating. Did you change your appearance in that shop across the road?” He queried you while giving a slight tilt to his head indicating the shop you had left.

You turned a little sheepish not really knowing how much you should reveal to the man in front of you.

“I don’t mean to catch you off guard.” He continues with a placating tone. “I’m a guard at Riorson House and by the clothing, I assumed you were a rider, and obviously noticed you before the hair and eye color change.”

You shake your head in acknowledgement before giving him a reply.

“Yes, I did. I was just trying to shake a little shadow and have some time to myself.”

He nods in acceptance obviously realizing what exactly you are insinuating.

“Ah, yes. The real question is why Lieutenant Riorson is needing to follow you around.” He added pure curiosity in his face.

“If you’re asking if I’m a threat, I can assure you I’m not. After days of torture, I’m not sure how much of a menace I could be right about now.” You muse not afraid to share your misfortunes.

“So, are you the Sorrengail or Lieutenant Tavis’ interest?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the remote possibility you could be Violet Sorrengail.

“I’m not naïve enough to be Sorrengail. Besides, do you really think Riorson would let her out of his sight?” You criticized seeing that you can’t imagine how someone who was hailed at being so smart couldn’t imagine that the cadre of Navarre wouldn’t just take out anyone they saw as a threat in any way.

“So, you’re the one that Tavis thought was dead.” He surmises.

Your eyes widen slightly and then narrow in suspicion.

“And exactly how do you know that?”

He gives a small smile before continuing. “I promise I mean you no harm and I don’t report back to Riorson or Tavis if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“If that’s the case. How exactly do you know all of this? I can’t imagine that the love lives of mere lieutenants are the subject of gossip.” You can’t help but question this man that has seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

He nods in understanding and gestures asking to sit at the table that I’ve taken residence at. You offer the seat, and he immediately sits down across from you.

“You’re right in one instance. People aren’t normally interested in the love lives of the Lieutenants. However, I’m guessing you are aware of why people would be concerned with Riorson’s life.” You give a slight shift of your head confirming your understanding.

“Being that Riorson is the most important person to the Tyrrish people, it does not escape them that Tavis is his right hand. Therefore, both of their lives are heavily scrutinized from the Assembly, hence my knowledge on the subject.”

He goes on to continue to regale you with stories of both men, including Bodhi in the bunch. He takes time to explain how the Assembly learned of your existence since you were apparently a wrench in their plans. No one expected Garrick to be entangled with anything more than physical, let alone a first year.

You also learn that this man’s name is Fabien, and he has been a guard at Riorson House since about two years after the Apostasy. His family owns the café that you are currently sitting in, but they had previously been servants at Riorson House as well.

Oddly enough, you begin to let your guard down and find yourself being drawn into the grey eyes and warm personality of the man in front of you. It has been a while since you had met someone so open and willingly trusting.

You could only think that a person like Fabien would be torn down immediately at Basgiath. The sad reality that the thought even crossed your mind crashing into you.

Soon enough, the light of the sun began waning into the horizon beyond the cliffs. You looked out at the setting sun and something in the shift of your facial features must’ve given away your decision to get back to Riorson House.

“I know it’s getting late, and I imagine that you need to get back. Would you mind if I escort you back to the fortress?” Fabien asks as you both rise from the table.

“I’d hate to be a bother, especially if you weren’t planning on going back today.” You say giving him an easy out from his ask. Although you were hoping he would still want to as you were slightly unsure of how to get back to the fortress.

“I insist. I’m more than confident you can handle yourself, but I will feel better if you’d allow me to escort you.” He declares.

‘I expect you to accept his offer, Bold One.’ Diomat slithers into your mind, reminding you that she’s watching out for you as well.

‘Yes, ma’am.’ You sass back, smiling at the exasperated huff you hear down your bond.

You nod your head in agreement and push in the chair that you had been relaxing in all day. As soon as you step into the night air you can’t help the shiver that crawls up your spine, the oversized training clothes not doing much to shield from the chill of the October air. Fabien must see your discomfort because not even ten steps later, he has thrown his cloak over you and closed the middle clasp. You give him a small thankful smile before you both continue your saunter back towards the doors of the fortress.

As you walk with him, you find yourself continuing to fall into conversation and chat about anything and everything. He takes great care to point things out around the town and let you know little stories from both his childhood and the ‘three musketeers’ that ran terror around the town growing up. In return, you tell him stories of your childhood growing up on the coastline and the scuffles you got yourself into with your siblings.

As you both get to the gates of Riorson House, you can’t hold in the boisterous laugh that tears from you at a particularly funny story involving three small children and a two-tiered chocolate cake. As you round the corner, you see a tall, muscled figure pacing back and forth in front of the wooden doors. The minute the sound of your laugh touches his ears, you watch as he turns to look directly at you.

Garrick’s eyes twinkle at the sound of your laugh before his gaze follows to the person that is standing next to you. His eyes immediately harden at the man standing next to you. You watch as he strides towards you with clear purpose.

Without giving him too much attention, you turn to Fabien and go to unclasp his cloak. However, before you can undo the clasp, Fabien touches your hand stopping you.

“Please keep it.” He says while looking out the corner of his eye, obviously watching the mountain of muscle that is marching straight towards you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You go to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like if you would.” He states. “I’d also like to see you again sometime, whenever you aren’t too busy.”

You go to respond to him, but you are cut off by a gruff voice replying before you. “She’s too busy all the time.”

You turn a glare at the man that has decided he needed to put himself between the two of you. You step around Garrick and give him a glare that he doesn’t acknowledge.

“We’ll see each other again.” You say looking at the man who has treated you as more than a beautiful annoyance all afternoon. “I’ll make sure to stop by when I get some free time. In the meanwhile, thank you so much for the wonderful afternoon, stories, and the cloak.”

Fabien gives you a slight bow and nod with his smile before he turns on his heels and you watch as he walks outside the fortress walls. You spin on your heels and head towards the doors. As you go to open the door, a large hand covers yours and turns your body to face them.

You look up at Garrick with a face of exasperation your eyes turning tired.

“How did you slip past Xaden’s shadows?” He questions.

“That’s none of your business, Lieutenant.” You snap at him.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I’ve been sitting next to that bed for three days waiting for you to wake up. Praying to any gods who would listen to make sure you’d be alright.” He explains while running a hand through his hair.

“Will you ever give me another chance?” He says quietly.

“What chance do I need to give?” You snarl back harshly. “You made your decision and told me that I would survive without you, didn’t you? So here I am, surviving without you.”

You watch as he rakes his hand through his hair again and blows out a growl of utter frustration.

“Yes, I said that, and I was a fucking idiot.” He starts as he moves closer to you. “You don’t know how much I regretted those words the moment you mounted Diomat and left me behind. Hell, the moment they left my mouth.”

His hand rises to your face and cups the side of your jaw, his thumb rubbing lazy circles over your cheek.

“Then I flew back to Basgiath after Resson and the only bright light I could think of was your face.” A faraway look clouds his eyes as the memory fizzles inside his mind.

“When everyone was trying to play their part to make sure no one knew the truth, I kept searching formation for you. I looked up and down every row, every face looking for your eyes.” He recounts. “I was standing there trying to breathe and keep my composure so that we could sell our story. But the only thing I wanted to do was run down to your squad and ask every single person where you were.”

You take a deep breath as you stare into the worried hazel eyes that seem to dart all around your face as if cataloging every detail.

“What do you want from me Garrick?” You ask tiredly not knowing whether you’re willing to give the man in front of you anything anymore.

“You.” He says breathlessly while bringing his forehead to rest on yours. “I fucking want you.”

You can feel how tense his body is from holding himself back from rushing to crush your body to his. Every muscle in his arms seem to sing with want to move and not let go, but you aren’t convinced.

You push yourself back from him and take his hand from your face. You bring it down and let it fall limp next to his body.

“You of all people knew how many men in my life have let me down.” You reply, drawing your gaze down with the tears that are beginning to fill your eyes. You lift them back to Garrick and let him see your eyes shine with held back emotion.

“I was expecting better from you. I was expecting to be your priority, but I wasn’t. Not to mention you were keeping secrets. I feel like I don’t even know you.” You tell him as a single tear slips down the side of your face.

Garrick’s face becomes a whirlpool of emotion as your words crash around him. He knew all the ways men in your life had failed you, yet he let himself do the same.

“I was tortured because of your secrets that you didn’t see fit to tell me.” You can’t help the small shake of your head in disbelief and the haunted look of your eyes. “You knew that I would keep any secret and take it to my grave before putting anyone in danger, especially you. However, you chose to take my agency. You chose what you thought was best, with I’m sure some assistance from your friendly shadow. But, at the end of the day, you made your decisions.”

You begin to walk towards the heavy doors again before turning back towards the man that held your entire heart.

“Now it’s time for me to make my own decisions. It will be on my terms if anything else happens between us.”

As you enter the fortress, the realization that you have nowhere to go dawns on you after remembering it was Garrick’s room you woke up in. As if in answer to your question, Xaden steps out of one of doorways in the hallway in front of you. With purpose written on your features, you walk up to your previous Wingleader.

“I need a room to stay in.” You say unceremoniously to the man standing in front of you.

He looks at you with a hint of confusion on his face, before nodding his head and walking further into the fortress. You follow him and hope that you’ll be able to keep the talking to a minimum.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay where you are?” He asks while continuing to walk forward, though he does turn to glance back at you. “The rooms in the family wing are significantly larger than those in the barracks.”

“I’m sure.” You can’t help the terse way you respond.

Suddenly he turns and faces you. The quick way he moves and turns towards you has you retreating and running into the wall. You can feel the way that your face has twisted in fear at his movements and watch as the brooding man before you softens uncharacteristically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He softly says while taking a few steps back. “We’ll get you assigned a room, but you should know that Garrick isn’t going to like being separated from you after everything.”

Your eyes roll at the statement and Xaden looks at you with a sad understanding.

“Trust me when I say that both of us have said and done things in the past year that we deeply regret.” He starts in a rare moment of vulnerability from the hard man he usually is. “I’m not going to try and convince you to be with Garrick, but I do want you to know that it wasn’t Garrick’s call to leave you for War Games. It was mine.”

“I know that.” You argue. “It wasn’t the not being taken, it was the way he handled it and the words he said.”

You huff a cynical laugh before continuing. “I’m sure even Violet would admit that every girl wants the man that she’s with to show a little fight when it comes to her.”

It was then that Xaden blew out a huff of his own. “You may think that he didn’t fight for you. But you didn’t see him after he saw you in that chamber. When Aetos caught you after you fainted,” He stops shaking his head while recollecting the memory. “I’ve never seen Garrick move so fast to get to you and wrap you in his arms. When flying back here, he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch you.”

“Not to mention, you need to realize that sometimes a man makes a decision purely on the thought of keeping the woman he loves safe.” He catches me before I can open my mouth to argue back. “Whether or not she may like what that decision is. Sometimes he may prefer her to hate him if that means she’s safe.”

You look into the eyes of the man in front of you and his face is nothing but open and serious. You give him a curt nod noting your understanding before he turns back around, and you both continue down the hallway.

Good to his word, Xaden finds you a room and even though you expected to be in the barracks, your room ends up being on the floor underneath the family rooms. You thank him for helping you and close the door to your room.

You heave out a large breath before unceremoniously dropping yourself onto the bed. You turn and let your eyes drift to the ceiling of the room trying to quiet your churning mind.

______

Due to the amount of mending that you had to have after Varrish’s particularly brutal forms of torture, you were given some time off before having to join in with the rest of the cadets. However, after learning of your fate in Eltuval, you were summoned to the Assembly to explain exactly what you saw.

As you walked into the large room, you couldn’t help but notice the long table that ran the length of the room with several members lining each side. However, the thing that really took your attention was the large chair sitting slightly higher than all the rest and not just the chair, but the man lounging in it.

There was Xaden sitting in the half-burned chair, legs stretched out in front of him with a bored look on his face. And if there was any question left in your mind about where Garrick fell, it was answered today. There he was stood behind the chair with his twin swords strapped to his back, arms folded across his chest looking as if he was assessing each and every person and the threat they may pose.

A General guarding his King.

Garrick’s eyes met yours and you watched as his stance softened ever so slightly, the same way it always would at Basgiath. A sad smile sprawled across your lips as you shook your head slightly at the memory.

“Cadet L/N.” You looked up as a man with auburn curls called your name and motioned you to take a seat at the middle of the table. “We appreciate you talking to us about your experience in Eltuval. Feel free to begin whenever you’d like.”

You make your way to the seat and tentatively sit down. You heart begins to flutter in your chest and nerves begin to make you stomach tighten. You place your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I’m not sure how much information that I have to share that will enlighten you more than what you already know.” You start, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with all of these older riders.

“I was given orders to patrol a specific area within the borders of our position at Eltuval. Diomat and I proceeded to the area and began our patrol as normal. About a half an hour into the watch, there was a large roar from the northwestern part of our patrol.” You take another fortifying breath before the assembly seems to fade and your eyes become your memories.

“As I looked towards the sound, blue flames erupted from the mouth of the beast. I consulted with my dragon, as I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking at. Diomat confirmed that it was a wyvern and confirmed that I could kill it with a blade that Lieutenant Tavis had previously gifted me.” As you finish your sentence, your eyes involuntarily flick to the man in question.

“Diomat then flew towards the wyvern as it headed straight for us in return. As we made our way there, I utilized my signet to be able to get down on the wyverns back. Once there, I slammed the blade in and was able to slash through half of its neck while it flailed.”

“Regrettably, I was thrown into its razored mane before I was flung into the air. Luckily, Diomat was able to catch me, and we returned to the outpost. From there, my wounds were tended to, and I told the cadre that I was hurt from falling from Diomat’s back.” As you finish, you look around the room at the eyes staring back at you. A mix of disbelief and astonishment fixed on all their faces, all but one. Garrick is looking as if he might be sick from the recounting of your tale.

“Are you saying that you jumped on the back of a wyvern and killed it with your own hands?!?” A man with a hawkish nose barks out incredulously.

Your head immediately whips to him and your eyes narrow. “Why the hell would I lie?” You challenge the man.

“Why should we believe this tale? The whole thing sounds of fairytales.” A woman with an axe strapped to her back argues back.

“I thought venin and wyvern were fairytales, yet here we are in an Assembly room that is trying to figure out best way to beat them.” You fume as you gesture to the people sitting around the table while standing up from your seat.

“And even though I shouldn’t have to fucking qualify my story for you to believe me, how about I fucking show you.” The anger at their accusations has turned your body into a raging wildfire.

With that fire burning in your veins, you turn around and lift the back of your shirt. There’s no way to ignore the gasps of horror that leave the mouths of the people in the room. You know what they’re seeing, large scars that bisect through the part of the relic that Diomat placed on your back.

“So yes, I jumped on the back of a damn wyvern and killed it. And no, it wasn’t a fucking fairytale.” After you finish speaking you bust out of the room, the fire in your veins still burning brightly.

You know from experience there are only two ways to burn the fire licking at you. You decide that its been too long since you’ve seen Diomat and find yourself immediately making a beeline for the large front doors. Just before you are about to grab one of the handles and swing the door open, a large hand wraps around your arm.

You are immediately tugged around and enveloped in large arms. Your anger is still burning hot on the surface so thankfully the fear of being restrained hasn’t bubbled up.

“Gods.” Garrick breathes as he holds you tightly. “It’s so much worse than I thought it was.”

“What did you think I was making it up too?” You huff out cynically. He moves one of the hands from the hug and pulls back slightly to grab your chin in his hand.

“Of course, I didn’t. I was just hoping it wasn’t as bad as I thought. But apparently, it was worse.” He answers his eyes serious with a hint of sadness. The next thing you know he’s huffing out a small laugh. “I don’t know whether I want to be angry with you for risking your life so recklessly or just be in wonder at how astonishing you are.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You can be both, but I need to get out of here.” With that you turn from the man and make your way outside of the fortress.

You’re thankful that Diomat shares your mind, because without you even having to ask, she touches down in the large courtyard upsetting the guards and garden below. Without caring, you mount your dragon and immediately take to the skies.

After a few hours, your lack of flight leathers begins to wear on you as you become colder and colder.

‘Diomat, how close to town can you get me?’ You ask your dragon hoping that you can finish of this tiring day with a warm cup of hot chocolate.

‘I can take you to the edge of the woods. Due to the civilians, they ask the dragons not to get too close and scare them. If you walk the path, then you should be at the town in about ten minutes from what Chradh says.’ She confirms down your bond.

You look down giving the back of your dragon’s neck a raised eyebrow as you hear her mention Chradh.

‘Why are you speaking with Chradh all of a sudden?’ Your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You hear a huff of amusement in your mind before she replies. ‘I suppose because his rider keeps pestering him about my whereabouts, and therefore yours as well.’

You can’t help the snarking laugh that you let out while Diomat begins to descend into the woods. ‘Well how about you just let him know you’re going back to the valley and leave me out of this one.’

As you begin walking away, Diomat huffs a blast of steam at you before nudging you with her maw. You glance back at her and give a wide smile.

As you begin your walk into town, the anger seems to bleed out of you again as you enjoy the day-to-day activities of the people around you. Soon enough, you find yourself outside of the café again and a smile breaks across your face as you see Fabien wave you in from the window.

“Come in.” He says as he steps out from behind the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you in here so soon.”

“I didn’t anticipate a visit today, but I’m in need of a warm beverage.” You admit. “Preferably, one of those delicious hot chocolates.” You say sheepishly.

A genuine smile breaks across Fabien’s face. “Of course, that’s no problem at all.”

You watch as Fabien disappears behind the counter to make your hot chocolate. Settling into the chair, you let your head fall to stretch your neck muscles from the flight and take a deep breath. Suddenly you feel someone tapping on your shoulder and you go to move your head expecting to see Fabien looking back at you.

Looking up, you are met with a pair of light green eyes. The snarl that formed on your lips was purely instinctive. Why couldn’t this little group just leave you alone when you wanted to be alone?

“Why can’t you all just go the fuck away?” You sighed exaggeratedly.

“Because you are going to stay seated and listen whether you like it or not.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the commanding tone that Imogen takes.

“Well, I don’t like it. So how about I don’t listen.” You were in no mood to listen to anything the girl in front of you had to say.

“Look, I’m not here for you. I’m here because I love Garrick.” You can’t help the way your eyes widen and look back at Imogen when she finishes her statement.

“Oh-kay.” You say unsure on how to proceed. “We aren’t together, so I’m unsure as to why you need to talk to me about him. If you want to tell him you love him, shouldn’t you be saying that to him.”

Imogen rolls her eyes at you while beginning to sit in the seat across from yours.

“The bastard is more than aware of my feelings.” She replies tersely. “But that doesn’t matter when he only has eyes for you.”

“I know that Xaden has already talked to you.” She goes on to explain and you quirk your eyebrow at the girl in front of you. “Don’t look so surprised, we all talk. Besides, its time to get off your high dragon and forgive the man.”

“Excuse me.” You say incredulously. You honestly can’t believe Imogen would have the gall to say that considering she wants to be with Garrick.

“Look, I get it. He was an asshole. Welcome to Garrick and his best friend Xaden for that matter. If you wanted the sweet one, you should’ve gone for Bodhi.” She continues. “I know Xaden told you that Garrick was doing what he thought was best, but it wasn’t only that.”

“He was doing what he wished he could’ve done for his own family. His mother. He’s always pushed women away because of losing his mom, but you somehow broke through that barrier. You’re the only girl I’ve ever seen him care about as more than just a friend or good fuck.”

“I’m not saying you should give him a free pass.” Imogen admits. “But I am telling you to let him in. Let him grovel and work for you. He needs that, needs you, just like Riorson needs Violet.”

You let your gaze bore into Imogen’s and see the hard set of her face and eyes, even though she can’t hide the flash of pain. In that moment, you can’t help but hate the whole situation that seems to have formed between the three of you.

“Imogen, I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.” You say seriously. “But I want you to know I am sorry. I never meant to show up and take anything from you, regardless of if you believe me or not.”

Pale green eyes look straight at you and a sad smile crosses her face fast before it falls, and she moves to get up.

“Don’t throw away a chance at happiness over some heated words.” She urges before sharply turning and walking out of the doors.

As she walks off, Fabien shows up with your hot chocolate and a small smile. You thank him and take a sip relishing the way the warmth of the drink seems to flow through your body.

As you finish your drink and bid Fabien good night, you begin your walk back to the fortress and let Imogen’s words ruminate. Between her and Xaden, you could feel the anger in your heart for Garrick lessening day by day.

As soon as you arrive back at the fortress, you look up to see the man with the auburn curls from the assembly looking back at you.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see.” He says and you look around checking to see if anyone else is there.

“Yes, Cadet L/N. I’m speaking to you. I just have a few more questions to ask.” He explains as he beckons you back into the same room you were in earlier.

You look around and notice that now you are the only two in the room that was previously filled. He turns back around to look at you and motions to a chair.

You sit as he begins to speak. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. I know we didn’t get to introductions earlier.”

“No, he’s my brother, Brennan Sorrengail.” A female voice breaks in from the doorway. You watch as the man in front of you rolls his eyes as Violet moves into the room as well.

“Either way, I wanted to ask you about your signet.” Brennan continues. “You said that you used it to drop onto the wyvern but didn’t explain what exactly it was.”

You look around at both people in the room and can’t help the uncertainty you feel at revealing your secret, even Carr wasn’t privy to all that your signet could do.

“I can change my appearance.” You begin to explain. Both of the faces in front of you widen in shock as you begin to detail the fact that you can change your entire body and clothing to replicate anyone.

“With encouragement from Diomat, I – uh – I shifted to look like a venin I remembered from a book that was read to me growing up.” You say tentatively.

“Tha -That’s incredible.” Brennan speaks up after the shock begins to wear off. “And the wyvern didn’t think anything of you being on top of it while shifted to look like a venin?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t there long before I sliced the blade into it.”

As you look back at the man in front of you, you can’t help as you watch the gears in his head turn through his eyes.

“Could you show us?” He asks curiously.

“I can.” You reply in turn. “But – “

“But, what?”

“You have to remember that it’s me and not an acutal venin.” You croak worried that you’re about to be seen as a threat.

“Understood.” He confirms as Violet goes to stand next to him.

After taking a long deep breath, you reach for Diomat’s power and let it flow through your body. You let your mind drift to the illustration in the book and feel as your fingers tingle. When you look back up, you see two sets of eyes as wide as saucers and know what it must look like to the people standing in front of you.

Before anyone has time to speak, the door to the Assembly room opens and you can sense two people have entered.

“Violence, I –“ The voice stops and suddenly you feel yourself being hoisted up by your throat, your hands reflexively going up to try and grab at the obstruction. However, when you try, there’s nothing to grab onto and you’re left kicking and flailing your arms. As the fear of being held begins to grip you, the hold on your power leaves and you’ve changed back into yourself.

“Xaden! Stop!” You hear Violet shout a second before you are dropped to the floor. You try to take a breath, but the fear has you in a cloud you can’t escape. You hear footsteps rushing towards you as you continue to take gasping breaths, your hands wrapping gently around your neck.

“Y/N. Love, are you alright?” You shrink back as inescapable fear comes barreling in and your eyes blow wide. You look back into hazel eyes, seeing pure concern laced there.

After what feels like hours, your heartrate finally slows again, and you can take full breaths. Looking up, the room around you feels frozen in time. Looks of horror and sorrow gracing each person’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Xaden breathes quietly as if afraid to speak. You sit there with your hand around your neck and stare straight back at the man not really registering his words.

“I – I’m going to go upstairs.” You croak through your abused vocal cords. You try to slowly get up on your feet and as soon as you’re standing, you feel your legs giving out. Before you can fall to the ground, you can feel a strong arm grip you around your waist.

Looking to your side, you see Garrick looking back at you cataloging each blossoming bruise on your neck. His brows furrow as his concern grows. You can feel the bruising already and know that they must be turning a mottled shade of purple.

Before you can think much more, you find yourself being scooped up into Garrick’s arms as his face turns hard and he begins walking up the stairs. Even though you are tense, you try to let yourself settle into his arms. You close your eyes for a second and before you know it, you can feel Garrick dropping to a bed with you still cradled close.

“Why does it always seem that my family and I are always hurting you?” He rumbles lowly while dropping his head.

“It wasn’t Xaden’s fault.” You rasp, your voice feeling like its grating against sandpaper.

Garrick looks back at you and brings his hand to your chin, tilting your neck up. Soon the blue green of his hazel eyes disappears, and they become a molten shade of gold, hard and angry.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He seethes as you watch him catalog the bruises along your neck. A sad smile blooms on your face and you bring your hand to his jaw, moving his face to look directly at you. You shake your head no before swallowing hard to speak.

“It wasn’t his fault. I knew it would be a risk to show them. I just didn’t think anyone would walk into the room before I could change back.” You finish before you end up coughing trying to coat the damage to your vocal cords.

As you finish, you feel the way Garrick’s face nuzzles into the hand that is still placed along his jaw. You look up to see his eyes closed as if he is trying to drink up every moment. A lost man wandering the desert for a drink of water.

Something about the gesture causes a crack in the wall that you’d built around your heart for the man that still has you cradled close. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen the worry, tension, and stress melt from his face since War Games.

A sudden knock at the door brings you both out of the moment. Garrick looks down at you and as if he can’t resist, brings his lips to the side of your head and gives you a quick kiss. He then sets you down gently on the bed and goes to open the door.

“I thought Y/N could use some mending.” You hear a male voice call from the other side of the door. You watch as Garrick nods his head slightly before opening the door and letting Brennan in. Brennan shuffles in and with sad eyes looks at the bruises across your neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I mend you?” Brennan asks tentatively. You give a curt nod before he is standing before you and you tilt you head back for him to get a better view of your neck. You shut your eyes tight as the tears silently flow down the side of your head, the burning sensation of mending filling your head.

Almost as soon as it begins, the pain seems to lessen slowly, little by little. You finally blink open your eyes and slowly lift your head back.

“Better?” Brennan questions as he rises back up to his full height.

“Much. Thank you.” You confirm.

“I know after what just happened, you may want to say no.” Brennan starts. “But I think it would be beneficial for everyone to get the visual of what they may be dealing with on the battlefield.”

You know where he’s going with his comment and your immediate response is to shake your head. However, wading through the panic, the logic starts to win out and you take a deep breath.

“Would you mind doing the same thing when most of the Lieutenants and all the cadets are present? The Assembly all agrees that it would be best for everyone to have a real feel of the enemy.” Brennan finishes in a tactician’s voice.

You go to open your mouth, but you’re immediately cut off.

“NO. You can fuck right off if you think she’s going to do that again.” Garrick growls while stepping into Brennan’s space. “Did you not just see what fucking happened? And then you want to put her in a room with untrained cadets who don’t even know how to use their signets and hope someone doesn’t have a bad reaction.”

Undeterred by Garrick’s reaction, Brennan calmly responds to the threat in front of him. “I understand your reservations Garrick and hers as well, which is why Bodhi and Mira will be on hand to make sure that no one responds the same way.”

You stand from the bed you were seated on and walk up to the two men that are still looking at each other trying to calculate who is going to make the next move. Instinctually, you raise your hand and place a comforting hand on Garrick’s forearm. You can’t help but feel the tense set of his muscles and crack a soft smile to reassure the hulking man.

“Gare.” You say and his eyes immediately dart to you as you use the nickname for the first time in months. “Brennan is right. Everyone needs to see what they’re going to be facing. It’s better than sending everyone out without having any idea.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours looking for any hesitation, seeming to hope that you aren’t really considering this. Immediately his shoulders sag when he realizes that you’re serious.

“I’ll just need some forewarning to get myself in the right headspace, so maybe not the next couple of days.” You confirm with Brennan as he shakes his head in agreement.

“You’ll wait until I’m back here.” Garrick asserts as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Brennan. “You’ll do it after I’m back from patrol. She isn’t going to do it without me being present.”

You roll your eyes at his protective demands but you’re grateful that he’ll be there, if only for a sense of safety.

“That can work. We will do it during a battle brief class and will catch the lieutenants while they are switching patrols.” Brennan affirms while he begins to walk towards the door.

You both watch as Brennan leaves and closes the door behind him. Garrick immediately moves forward to you lifting your chin to check for any lingering bruising.

“I’m fine.” You say quietly to try and quell the anxiety burning in his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He quips back.

“You do realize that we’re both about to be thrown into a war that most likely will take both of our lives, right?” You sass back, getting irritated with his hovering.

“Not if I can fucking help it.” He grumbles at you. You snort and roll your eyes at the over-confident man that he’s turned into again.

“Promise me you won’t do that again, unless absolutely necessary.” The earnestness in his eyes a plea for you to listen. “I don’t want you to be a victim just because someone can’t decipher you from friend or foe.”

You sigh and let your gaze soften. “You don’t think I already know that shifting myself to look like a venin is dangerous? You can ask Brennan or Violet, but I was hesitant with them both before I did it. And what followed just proved why my theory was correct.”

“You of all people should know that I’m smarter than that. I wouldn’t shift into that form unless absolutely necessary. Brennan just asked to see why the wyvern didn’t react to my landing on its back, so I showed them.”

Realization dawning on him seems to do nothing to quell the fire in his eyes. Fire to protect and shield evident on every line of his face. You realize that no words seem to be cracking through the thick skull of the man in front of you, so you utilize your best weapon, your touch.

You bring your hands to his face, cupping each side and rubbing soothing circles on his stubbled cheeks. He takes a deep sighing breath and his gaze bores deep into you.

“I don’t think you understand how terrified I am of the actual reality of your death.” He divulges as both of his arms snake around your waist tugging you to him. “Ever since I laid eyes on you again, I wake up every day busting through my door to search for just a glimpse of your form.”

“Having to face a reality again where you aren’t there is the absolute worst thing I can honestly imagine.” He brings his forehead to yours leaning in and breathing a deep, calming breath.

A sad smile begins to crawl across his face. “And being so close to you, but far away at the same time is eating at me more than you know.”

You give him a sad smile back in return. “I know.” You whisper, your walls cracking even more with the tenderness and vulnerability seeping from Garrick’s every fiber.

“I need you to know that I’m working on it.” You tell him while bringing your hands down to grab his own, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles. “We aren’t there yet, but I can promise you the more you let me in, the more you show up for us, then eventually maybe we can get back to before.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours, probing for an alternate meaning. You just look back at him with the honesty you feel at his words. You’re unsure of what you’re looking for to be able to let him completely in again, but you know that you just aren’t in the right space at this moment.

__________

Taglist: @smashee0789 @batboygirlie @gayandfairycore

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #xaden riorson #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick fourth wing #garrick tavis x oc #the empyrean fanfic #the empyrean

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tearsaura · 4 months ago

Text

I love you // Liam Mairi x Tavis!reader

A/N: Based on the prompts by @northspiritstorm under this Post. I am so sorry that you had to wait so long for this one.

I do hope that you enjoy it. :)

Word count: 0.9k

warnings: none? Spoilers for fourth wing and iron flame (messed around with the timeline a little bit)

Picture is from Pinterest: bgtm9d

‘Again.’

‘I-’ she began, but paused, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was already racing, and it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest at any moment. She rested her hands on her knees. Varrish had dragged her up here hours ago.

Stop it, Cuan admonished her. Stop it before something happens to you.

‘I- I can't anymore,’ she groaned, looking down.

‘You're not leaving until it starts raining here. If you want to go, pull yourself together.’ Varrish grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up.

‘Again.’

It was already dark when she was finally released and went back to school. There was no one else in the courtyard when she reached it with trembling legs. Her hair was sticking to her face, covered in sweat, her cheeks were burning and every breath she took felt like being stabbed. Her eyes landed on the large oak tree that stood in front of the entrance and with a relieved smile she walked towards it. She slid down the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes. Her thoughts wandered to blue eyes and soft blonde hair. Rough, calloused hands wrapped around hers, the scent of sandalwood...

Empathic one!

Cuan's human is unconscious in the yard under the oak tree Liam jerked out of his sleep so hard he almost hit his head on the wooden post of his bed. Without hesitation, or even thinking about putting on shoes, he ran down the corridor out of his room.

There was hardly anyone else in the corridors, except for a few couples here and there enjoying their time. As he walked past the third year's corridor, one of the doors opened and her brother ran out of his room. Garrick almost bumped into the younger rider, the two looked at each other for a moment, one more worried than the other, and ran out into the darkness together.

‘Did you see her today?’ Garrick asked, his usually confident voice trembling slightly. ‘Only at breakfast,’ Liam replied as the two of them walked towards the oak tree.

In the moonlight, a motionless body could be seen next to the tree trunk. Before Garrick could even react, Liam approached and dropped to his knees beside her. With careful hands, he pulled her body towards him and placed his fingers on her neck.

‘Her pulse is weak. We should take her to the healers quadrant.’ Garrick nodded wordlessly and helped him carry his sister in.

---

The sun slowly dawned and both riders sat wordlessly side by side outside the quadrant. Winifred had told them hours ago that they should come back in the morning, that the young Tavis sister was fine and just needed some rest to regain her strength.

Liam and Garrick, being the stubborn riders they were, ignored her words and didn't move.

Garrick kept looking at his friend. He wasn't stupid: he had noticed that there was a spark between Liam and Y/N. And as he looked at him, his eyebrows drawn together in concern, the way he cracked his fingers and how dishevelled his hair was, he knew that it probably wouldn't be too long before the couple finally admitted it to each other.

‘Gare, I like your sister.’ Well, that was faster than expected

‘I know, you guys are best friends,’ he replied, trying to hold in his grin.

‘I mean that I like her, like her. More than a friend. Are you- are you getting what I’m trying to say?’ he asked, turning to face him. Garrick raised his eyebrows.

‘No,’ Liam sighed and leaned back in his chair.

‘I have feelings for her, I really like her, and I wish she was my girlfriend.’

‘Ohhhh’ it took a lot for him not to laugh. ‘Have you talked to her about it?’

‘I don't think she feels the same way...’ There was a silence at first before Garrick bursted and laughed out loud.

‘Really? Don't be so loud before Winifred chases us away.’

‘I'm sorry. But are you listening to yourself? Everyone knows you're into each other except for you,’ he brought out between laughter, wiping the tears that threatened to fall out of his eye corners.

‘So you... wouldn't mind?’ Garrick finally managed to stop laughing and, in a more serious matter, put a hand on Liam's shoulder.

‘I couldn't wish for a better boyfriend for my sister…. and I couldn't wish for a better brother-in-law for me either,’ Liam grinned at him.

‘Dude, that was probably the corniest thing you have ever said’ ‘Yeah, I immediately regretted it. The second part at least.’ Garrick gave him another encouraging pat on the shoulder and stood up.

‘Well, I'm off then, she's in good hands with you-’ “Hey, hey wait a minute, you have to help me come up with an idea on how I can confess my feelings to her!” Liam interrupted him and Garrick groaned. ‘No, believe me, I'm the wrong person for this kind of stuff. Ask... Imogen or Quinn, or even better ask Xaden. He's on cloud nine right now anyway and he's unbearable. ‘Violence this’ ‘Violence that’... I even caught him picking flowers.’

‘Flowers?’ ‘Yes! He's gone soft. He's certainly got enough ideas to help ever single rider here with a love confession.’ ‘Okay then, I'll look for Xaden later.’ Liam said slowly. Garrick nodded and left the waiting area with a last encouraging smile.

A few minutes later, Winifried stuck her head out the door to the healer’s quadrant. As her eyes fell on Liam, she started smiling.

‘Hi. She just woke up; do you want to see her?’ Liam nodded immediately and jumped up. With shaking legs, he followed Winifred in and over to her bed. Y/N was sitting up, leaned against the pillows and smiled tiredly at him.

‘Hi Liam, how are you?’ she asked.

‘I love you’

#liam mairi #fourth wing #iron flame #liam mairi x reader

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garricks4thwingqueen · 4 months ago

Note

*Whispers* angry love confession with Garrick after years of pining?

After All This Time Garrick Tavis X Reader

Word Count: 1950

Irish Gaelic for old Tyyrish: Princess - banphrionsa.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angstyness.

Two years prior to Fourth Wing

Y/N POV

You woke up at 5:30 a.m. the morning that Garrick had to leave for Basgiath. You looked over to your right where the gentle sleeping giant teddy bear lay. No you and Garrick weren’t a thing even though you had a crush on him for as long as you remember but you remember overhearing Xaden’s warning speech to Garrick that you as Xaden’s little sister were off limits for well forever. And now after the uprising of parents you and Garrick were now foster siblings so anything more should be pushed to the back of your minds right? Wrong. Your heart felt so heavy this morning as Garrick stirred awake. He was leaving to start the school of hell; and you were going to be stuck here in a foster home that was probably the worst placement for all 107 of you. At least Garrick was going to get to see Xaden again. You just hoped that they would both survive their first two years so you could see them both when you started your first year at Basgiath War College.

Garrick’s POV

“Good Morning Princess.” “Tis not.” Y/N huffed, crossing her over her chest. “Oh come on please don’t be pouty for me. We aren’t going to see each other for another two years.” “Or never.” I sat up in bed cupping her cheek. “Hey let’s not think about that yay?” “Yay ok sorry.” She mumbled with a sigh. “Let’s go get some breakfast before I have to leave in three hours.” She nodded her head slowly getting out of bed. “Come here.” I said holding my arms out. “It’s going to suck for us both but it's going to be ok. I promise. My banphrionsa. I will always find you no matter what and maybe one day we can truly be together.”

Y/N POV

Garrick had said to you after breakfast that morning after breakfast placing a soft kiss on your forehead before leaving for Basgiath. It took everything in you to not run after him and get a real kiss. A real kiss that you may never get.

Y/N POV

633 August AU

It had been almost three full weeks since you had been reunited with your brother and Garrick as well as Imogen, Liam and your cousin Bodhi. But gods was it hard keeping your true feelings for Garrick pushed down. You weren’t 5 year old little kids anymore; even Imogen was starting to pick fun at your not so subtle glances at Garrick or your subtle reactions or over reactions when other girls started to flirt with the now third year cadet.

Garrick’s POV

It was now three weeks since I had seen you again. I was shaking out of my wandering thoughts by Bodhi as I stood watching you spare another first year cadet. “Like what you're seeing Tavis?” Bodhi chuckled. “Lay off Durran. At least she can still fight.” I smirked as I watched you walk towards your water bottle after you had won the match of the Matthias girl. “Like what you see Tavis?” You smirked at me on your way back over. “I-” “Oh he absolutely does.” Bodhi chuckled. “Wanna take a picture so it’ll last longer?” She asked and did a twirl that landed you in front of my chest. I chuckled deeply. “Miss me princess?” “Terribly.” “Careful your brother is in ear shot.” “Maybe I don’t care what Xaden thinks anymore.” “Maybe you should care what he thinks.” Xaden huffed from my right. “Maybe you should stop pining after the Sorrengail girl if you want to care about mine and Garrick’s relationship.” I chuckled at your remark and how quickly the smirk faded on Xaden’s face. “I just care that you're safe. Is that too much to ask of my little sister?” Xaden snapped. “You know I could choose to be with any of these other cadets in this hell hole; say Ridoc perhaps. You should be lucky I’ve been pinning for Garrick since we were kids, foster brother or not.”

I growled at your response to Xaden. “You will not be with any other cadet in this god damns school.” “Overprotective Gary?” She giggled. “Damn straight for gods knows how many years I’ve been wanting you and god forbid that I’ll let being foster siblings or your actual brother get in the way of us anymore Y/N. I swear if anyone tries and stop us now I will have Chradh char them right where they are standing.” “You're mine and mine alone and finally safe with me.”

Y/N POV

Damn this was hot. You thought to yourself. You knew it would be heated, maybe a tad bit of anger in the air when you and Garrick finally confessed feelings for each other. But god's damn was he really your over protective Gare Bear. “Safe in Basgiath. That’s kinda ironic isn’t” You smirked slowly wrapping your arms around Garrick’s waist, making sure to look at Xaden; who now was standing arms crossed angrily over his chest. You smiled as Garrick chuckled softly; “Yeah, I guess it’s ironic, but you're safe with me. No one will touch you while I’m around, no one can say anything harmful. You understand that banphrionsa?” You nod your head burying it into his chest. “No one but you.” You said quietly. “What was that princess?” “No one but you. I’m yours.”

“That’s right, princess. Only I get to be this close to you. Only I get to touch.” As Garrick spoke to you noticed it shifted to a tone that you weren’t quite used to. One that was dominant yet serious, but oh hells did it do things to you.

“I don’t care that you’ll always be my foster brother now. At least you're not Xaden and not my actual brother. But now, we don’t have to push our feelings for each other way down below the surface.” You said in a tone you tried matching Garrick’s with but it wasn’t quite there. Looking at Garrick you could now tell there was a hint of possessiveness in his eyes as he spoke to you next: “Yes my princess, we don’t have to push our feelings down now. I am not pushing my feelings away for you anytime soon love, because you're mine now.”

“I’m all yours Tavis. Whether Xaden likes it or not.” You made sure to glance at your brother who now looked like he was fuming. But you quickly looked back at Garrick as he started to rub his hands against your hip, a wide smile on his face as he spoke: “Damn straight You are. Xaden’s going to have to learn how to share you. Because I won’t be giving you up anytime soon.”

God your heart fluttered. You knew Garrick had always been protective of you and Xaden and those he considered close friends. But damn, now that it was solely directed to you as his; it was doing things to you in your lower abdominal region. “Gods I missed you.” You breathed.

Garrick stood looking down at you which was a good two feet difference with Garrick being 6’ 6” and you just 5 feet even. “And I missed you, princess. A lot. Putting up with Xaden for two years on my own….” “But you; I also thought about you every goddamn day Y/N. I never stopped thinking of you. Thinking of you being stuck in that foster home all by yourself.”

“Same.” You admitted in a tone that was much softer than Garrick’s. “When I got your first letter knowing that you and Xaden were still alive after you finished your first year here. It was like the greatest breath of fresh air ever.”

You didn’t think it was possible but you could have sworn Garrick’s expression darkened a bit at your words. His hands still on your hips giving them a tight squeeze as he began to speak; “The first year here was a nightmare, Princess. You wouldn’t believe the hell Xaden and I went through during it.” Your eyes softened as you gripped his waist tightly. “I know being the oldest of the rebels you both have-” You started to say as Garrick cut you off “Hey, focus on right now, with me, my banphrionsa.”

You sighed “That whole first year you left. I made a calendar on the wall marking the days so I’d know when to expect the first letter from you or Xaden after your first year here ended and you were able to send letters.” “You made a calendar Y/N? A whole entire year?” Garrick asked, speechless. “Yeah I made two actually. The next one marked every day a letter was sent and received and of course when I could see you again. Right on their cream walls.” You smirked. “I bet they were pissed off by that.” Garrick chuckled. “Yeah I kept it hidden when I was there. I'm sure they could have wished they could punish me for it. Maybe toss some more verbal slurs out about how we are rebel trash.”

Garrick chuckled. “You made two calendars on their precious cream walls just because you missed me, missed us.?” “Yeah all because I missed you. And I knew when we slept together in that house it had just been as friends. But after all that time of almost four years sleeping in the same bed it felt so cold after you left.” “You were alone in that cold house without me… god’s it drives me crazy; Knowing you were alone and cold while I was here. While Xaden was here.” You hummed in response “Like you said we are here now. We have each other finally I get to say I love you and mean it with nothing holding us back.

“Say it again.” Garrick breathed, threw a raspy breath as his eyes darkened and the grip on your waist tightened. “I don’t get to hear it from you first Gary? You giggled. “You want me to say it first? Garrick chuckled. “I mean I’ve said it once it’s only fair if you say it again before I say it twice.” “Stubborn runs in the Riorson bloodline, I swear.” Garrick chuckled. “Then my early threat stands. Should I go find Ridoc?” You smirked.

Garrick let out another low growl. “Damn it no.” He chuckled. “I love you Y/N Riorson. Damn it, I always have and you know how damned hard it's been keeping that to myself all these damned years?” “Yes I know; I’ve had to do it myself and the feeling of finally getting to say I love you. Feels so god damn freeing.” You both earned a huff coming from Xaden but ignored it; as Garrick said earlier he was going to have to learn how to share.

“Say it again.” Garrick said through a rasped breath. “Now I’ve said it twice. Is it really fair for me to say it a third time before you say it twice?” Garrick chuckled; “I love you; Y/N Riorson and your right it feels so gods damn freeing to be able to say it.”

“Take me upstairs, Garrick.” You smirked, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to take you upstairs princess?” Garrick rasped. “Take me to your dorm on the third floor, Garrick. I’m still bunked in a massive room with a bunch of first years so no way in hell is that happening.” Garrick chuckled as he picked you up bridal style and started carrying towards the stairs that lead up to the third floor dorms.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned to a spicy part two! (Also I should apparently not post synopsis before I start writing the physical fan fic lol)

Part 2

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson

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pvrkacciosan · 6 months ago

Text

Akrasia

Summary: Akrasia; acrasia - The state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will. You hated Garrick Tavis. He was arrogant. Threw his size around to please his friend and most of all was so attractive you couldn't ignore. So yeah! You hated him.

Pairing: Garrick Tavis X Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: !NSFW! Unedited part.

☽⋆❈⋆☾

You hated every rippling inch of his muscled body.

Garrick Tavis. The bane of your existence at Basgiath and most importantly the biggest pain in the ass.

Everything he did, if only you could wrap your hands around his throat and reduce the oxygen running to his brain, so you might get some peace from the blood thrumming thoughts that slipped you at the sight of him.

The sheer size, a weapon of his own which he used for Xaden's benefits. You hated it. Hated them both. Strutting around the war college like the gods had shoved the sun up their back sides.

It was infuriating to watch cadets move from their way, many of which were simply unwilling to stand against the wall of muscle that was Garrick Tavis.

And most importantly you hated the fact you had let yourself into this current position. Back pressed almost painfully into the wall, pinned by that same wall of muscle between your legs.

Garrick hadn't seemed to care what your words meant as you spat them at him. Hatefully throwing your rage into them.

"I hate you" You fused your soul to the words, as though speaking them aloud would allow you to remind herself you hated him even as he rolled his hips into you.

The sheer friction of his growing erection against your pulsing core causing your head to roll back against the wall. A soft moan escaping after your words, despite trying to fight it, despite the hate in your tone.

"Shut up." Garrick's words were clipped, quick as he moved his mouth to the expose column of your throat. The warmth of his lips made you curve. Molding to Garrick's will as his hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place.

His tongue flicked against the pulse in your neck, teeth grazing the flesh above your artery. One act from hims could so easily had you bleeding to death, You would have hated it but couldn't find the feeling as his teeth nipped the skin.

Wrapping both legs, pulling Garrick closer by your hold.

He groaned, the pressure in his pants growing at the enclosed space, The space which grew smaller as you needed him closer. He pulled away just enough to breath his words against your throat.

"I thought you hated me."

You tried to speak but his mouth repositioning on your jaw, halted you, his breath ghosting the bone before he began slathering it in kiss after kiss. Flat togue running the warmth further from his hold.

"I do."

His soft chuckle was low, a sound which rumbled into your core causing shockwaves to skitter through your bones. He was an inch from attaching to the divot at your collarbone when he spoke, word a loose breath, "Doesn't seem like it."

Words weren't a virtue you could force right now, tilting your pelvis up in need of friction. Damn him and his stupid mouth for getting you into this position,

You panted painfully at the ache growing, One of Garrick's hands slipped down to cup the curve behind your knee, thumb rubbing slow circles into the muscle of your outer thigh.

"I do." The words were mixed with the pants of air, almost inaudible. Indistinguishable as Garrick twisted, arm bracing the wall beside your torso, caging you in entirely with his body. That fucking body. You hated the way it felt against your own, hated the way he seemed to answer every call of your pleasure with ease.

"Do what? Sweetheart" He pulled back, eyes half-lidded with the sensations he struggled to hide on his expression, His brow was raised in a mock, The arrogance in his tone made your anger rile.

"I hate yo-" You couldn't stop the gasp of surprise as his hand moved suddenly tipping down past the waistband of you leathers, thumbing searching, seeking the bundle of nerves.

Garrick was studying your own expression, eyes squeezed shut. All the air around you had evaporated, eyes finally fluttering open when he stilled, hand unmoving, There wasn't any doubt he could feel the heat emanating from your core.

Looking at you now, you could have smacked him. The cocky half lifted grin almost met his eyes, "Didn't catch that Sweetheart."

The name infuriated you, "I Hate you"

He waited for you to finish your words as his thumb found the bud he sought. Pleasure ignited like a thousand matches had been lit across the surface of your skin as he traces the edges of the nerves.

"My Sweetheart is so tender"

The only sensation you could feel beyond the pulses of pleasure was the dull ache as your head pressed to the wall. Tilting back with gritted teeth, "Don't call me that."

His lips reattached to your jaw, Unyielding against the already hot flesh, he moved to savor the other side of you facial bone. Hands moving to curl around the underside of your ass.

"Sweet" - Kiss - "Heart"

The cool air hit your spine, air creeping in around you as Garrick grunted arms lifting you from the shared position against the wall. What wall or where in the school you were right now. Didn't matter.

You couldn't care less, only that Garrick couldn't multitask very well. Even with one hand holding you up against him, His other had begun to neglect its movement against your clit.

A new ache had begun building, a insatiable need that grew stronger the longer you went without the brush of his touch. Using your arms to hug closer to his chest, you shift to angle your head, Hand deliberately slow in dragging his attention to you, fingers feeling the stubble of his chin.

Garrick let out a needy moan when you roughed his lips with your own, He huffs into your mouth at the need of air. Pulling from you, head tilting as he manoeuvred around the space. Dropping the weight of your body to a surface.

It was solid but something for him to balance you on, A table or wooded units of sorts. It was cold, the new temperature on the furniture enlisting goosebumps across your body.

"Garrick" You weren't sure if you meant for his name to come out as a plea, or threat. Did you want him to stop...

The word were a dizzying challenge. One you couldn't bring yourself to continue. It was easier to offer over to the sensations he beckoned with his touch.

The first few buttons on your shirt had become undone, exposing the valley of your breast, sternum bare to the cold. Garrick ignores your words, smirking he places a lazy kiss to the edge of your mouth.

Your breathing had begun to turn ragged as you watched him, he lowered, head falling below your field of vision, and continues lowers still.

The room was so quiet you could hear your own heart, thrumming like drums in your ear. The first trace of his touch on your bare torso made you writhe. Spine curving until you lay back on the surface.

Garrick ran kisses down the line of your sternum then over your stomach, Pants of air worked their way up through you throat.

He murmured words against your skin, words inaudible to your ears, which had grown so heated in the time from the wall to the table it was a struggle to even hear the sound of your own fast exhales.

As his tongue flitted your navel Garrick's hands worked their way up your legs, coming to rest against your hip, Your head fell back against the hard surface beneath you.

You weren't sure if the sounds leaving you were words or simple noises of plea.

His fingers worked into the bindings of your leathers, his kisses continued rounding, following the lines of your ribs, savouring every inch of your skin that lay exposed. Ripping the clothing off your legs in a single movement, your hate reignited. He had done it so effortlessly, Stripped you bare until you lay exposed, You hated it.

Garrick made even quickly work of removing his own leathers, the sweat already clinging to his musclebound chest, the sight of it made your breathing erratic. It was a reaction he shouldn't have evoked. You hated that he could arise such a...

The hot exhale stilled your every thought, Kisses recontinuing as they followed past your navel. Going lower, Until you arched for his touch, ached to your very core.

Garrick conveniently had placed himself kneeling between you legs, Hands working into the spaces behind your knees. Using his hold there to push you further up the table. So when he leaned down, mouth attaching to your—

Holy burning fucking hell.

His tongue was warm and thrust into you with an unrelenting tempo. Breathing is an insignificant struggle you choose to ignore for so long your chest began to ache in protest. Gasping was your only solace, the only cling to oxygen.

The thrusts were mingling with the exhales, so in tune with one another your heart even joined. Pulse hammering harder into the cage of your chest.

Hate Garrick all you will but he knew how to tongue fuck his way to oblivion. The pleasure was so blinding that even the edges of your vision had grown blurry.

A coil had situated itself low in your gut, an unrelenting force as strong as his tongue which built stronger with each thrust as he tilted his head getting even impossible deeper. A crashing of a wave cresting the surface, Your spine felt pliant when Garrick stroked a hand up the centreline of your torso.

Hand curling to twist, cupping the round expanse of your breasts, Painfully he pinched your nipple in between two fingers and with the next thrust of his tongue that crashing wave barreled into you.

The full force of it rocked the world on its axis around you, Spinning as Garrick rested up on his elbows,

"Still hate me Sweetheart" The haze of your vision made it difficult to glance at that demandable smirk you knew plagued his expression. The same smirk you wanted to slap off his face at all times of the day.

"Yes." You shuffled from the shoulders to reposition on the table.

Garrick's forearm pinned you down when you tried to rise, He steadily lifts himself up in one singular motion, maintaining the gaze he used to rake over your naked exposed body beneath his hold.

"You hate me?" He beckoned the scoff from you lips,

He leaned over you entirely now, body entrapping any escaping heat, You hesitated to even breathe at his closeness, so aware of the ripples of his toned body above your own, the table creaked but held place with the combined weight.

He curled a hand into you thigh, nails tickling the surface of your molten flesh.

"But I am the only one who can make you squirm this much." You wanted to refuse his words, even knowing damn well you forced back the urge to roll your hips up to meet his for the sweet hope of friction.

Still you shook your head, protesting in any way you could, "You haven't fucked me yet" Tilting your head back in a weak act of defiance to the commanding aura that his presence brought, He released you legs to brush below his lip with his thumb, the evidence of your release coating his finger as he cleaned his chin.

You swallowed hard watching intensely as he lapped up the substance off the pad of his thumb. Brow raised when he finished tasting your lingering essence, "Is that so?"

He had forcefully grabbed your legs, standing at the edge of the table he yanked your body to the end. Pulling you to sit up closer to his chest. You ass rested against the edge awkwardly as Garrick lowered below the height of the table.

You tried to not look down as he aligned himself,

"Want me to stop?" He stilled, shoulders shaking with anticipation. Garrick took the second to meet your stare, If you asked now. He would stop. Even through the hate, you felt the pulsing need for pleasure, the craving that lingered in your chest.

You glance down, to where your bodies almost joined, Your legs spread rested on either side of his hip. The erect size of him waiting at your entrance.

The sight was dizzying, Garrick shuffled on his feet, the tip brushing between the folds as he moved. You almost moved towards the touch, waiting the moment he would fill you. Mouth salivating at the thought of what it would feel like to have him down your throat.

"Use your words Sweetheart." Adverting your gaze back to him, Garrick had invaded the space you breathed, could taste the sweet scent of his arousal on your tongue. He was so close you could almost taste yourself on him.

"Don't stop."

and then he slide in slowly, a gasp leaving from you at the fullness. An incomplete feeling that rocked you forwards, arms wrapping to enclose you to him. Chin digging into his shoulder for support.

The unwavering sensation, the length was fulfilling in the ways his tongue had not been.

Yes you hated every rippling inch of his muscles body, but perhaps this could be the inches of Garrick Tavis you did enjoy.

...

A.n: Perhaps I might just do a part 2. They haven't even made it to the bed yet😏 I hope this was okay for now.

#fourth wing imagine #fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing by rebecca yarros #fanfiction writing #booktok #iron flame #garrick tavis #rebecca yarros #iron flame by rebecca yarros #books #book tumblr #fourth wing fanfic

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writinginatree · 8 months ago

Text

Masterlist

I'm also on AO3 and Wattpad (@ Ronniewritesinatree on both)

Old masterlist with fandoms I no longer write for Here

Fourth Wing

Bodhi Durran (romantically):

Four Long Years

Broken Tooth

Adaptability (fem!reader) Part 2

I Want You More Than I Want To Die (fem!reader) (18+)

Candlelight, Roses and a Locked Door (fem!Tavis!reader)

Bodhi Durran (platonically):

Out of Practice (Riorson!reader)

Daggers & Distractions (fem!Riorson!reader)

Safe Space (fem!Riorson!reader)

Ridoc Doesn't Like Spaghetti (sibling!reader)

Garrick Tavis (romantically):

Kisses & Confessions (fem!Riorson!reader)

Talks & Tantrums (fem!Riorson!reader)

Let's Fistfight the Sun

Imogen Cardulo (romantically):

Sparring (fem!reader)

Xaden Riorson (romantically):

Sleeping In (afab!reader) (18+)

Too Sweet (fem!reader)

Xaden Riorson (platonically):

Zombie (sister!reader)

Here For You (sibling!reader)

John Wick

John Wick (romantically):

Baba Yaga's Cure for Period Cramps

Saved

John with an S/O with chronic pain

Come Here (fem!reader) (18+)

Safe Where He Belongs

Christmas Drawings

Morning Cuddles

The Hunt

John Wick (platonically):

Loss (daughter!reader)

fresh bruises (daughter!reader)

I Love Halloween (Young!John x fem!best friend!reader)

Nightmare Time Is Story Time (daughter!reader)

Dog Is the Best Babysitter (daughter!reader)

Are You Sick? (daughter!reader)

No Veggies, No Cookies (daughter!reader)

Withered Daisies (daughter!reader)

The Lost Boys

David:

Smells Like You

Dwayne:

Sunshine On My Shoulders

Of Spiders & Mothers

Blood & Lust (fem!reader) (18+)

Star's Best Friend (fem!reader) Part 2

Marko:

Possessive

Paul:

A New Friend

Vampires Will Never Hurt You

Migraine (Marko, Paul)

All or multiple:

Comfort Stories

Turning (poly)

Coming Out (lesbian!reader)

The Death of the Party

Happy Halloween

Breakfast Gone Wrong

Sugared Blood

#masterlist

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months ago

Note

I wish you'd write a fic where reader is xadens younger sister and dating Garrick. But they date in secret (obviously xaden wouldnt be super thrilled at first when finding out) for like 2 years or so before they leave to go to Basgiath . Maybe when reader goes to cross the parapet Xaden notices garricks extra instruction. Maybe a slight brush on the back of the end before stepping on. And then Garrick and reader are caught by xaden and then his mad at first but relaxes off after watching Garrick protect her through out the year

When?

Xaden felt like an idiot. One big absolute idiot. He couldn’t believe that he was able to lead the rebellion but was quite literally fooled by the people closest to him. How did he miss the signs? Why didn’t his consciousness wave red flags back and forth. And he didn’t even figure it out on his own. No, no, fucking Imogen spelled it out for him.

“What are you smiling about all day?”, he had asked her as they counted up the weapons. Getting ready to distribute them overnight. Imogen shook her head as her smirk deepened, “Just Garrick”, she breathed. Xaden frowned, “Why are you smiling over Garrick? You don’t smile over a man”. Imogen rolled her eyes, “it has nothing to do with me, you idiot”, she snorted.

“Out with it, I don’t have time to play”, Xaden grumbled. Imogen placed down the dagger in her hands before looking up at her friend. “Didn’t you notice that he’s been different?”, she questioned. “Is he sick?”, Xaden smacked a question of his right back at her. “You are unbelievable”, she shook her head, “Do you seriously don’t see it?” Xaden blinked a couple of times. Nothing seemed off about his oldest friend. He was fine. Better than ever actually. “Xaden, Garrick looks at your sister as if she hung the moon up in the sky”, Imogen muttered, “He greeted me with a smile today”, her hands met Xaden’s shoulders as she shook him slowly, “A smile. S. M. I. L. E. Do you understand? That man hasn’t smiled ever since I met him”. But Xaden’s mind had clung to the first part of her words. Garrick liked his sister. No, this had to be a joke. Just Imogen didn’t look as if she was joking.

Ever since had made it his task to keep an eye out. Following you both. Sorting out through memories of you both. You had barely crossed the parapet six months ago. And yes Garrick had pulled you from the line when you came up. “Show me your shoes”, he had ordered, bending down to check them himself. Xaden hadn’t thought anything of it then. Had simply muttered, “Fuck you, I got her the shoes myself”, but he was so frightened to lose you that day that nothing else counted. Not the way Garrick had gripped the side of your face right before you stepped on. Not even the fact that Garrick had broken the board the names were scribbled on. Or how they had embraced each other when you were safely on the other side.

“Stop piling food on my plate”, you chuckled lightly, as Garrick spooned more veggie bake from his owl plate onto yours. “You need to eat more”, he stated, “You did well in training today”. Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at him. “You probably just went easy on me”, you shrugged. “I never go easy on anyone, love”, he reached out, brushing strands of your hair behind your ear, “Especially not when I want to impress you”. You hit his chest lightly, as your cheeks went pink, “You’re such a flirt”, “Only for you baby, only for you”, he traced the corner of your lips before picking up a for once again.

Xaden brooded in the knowledge of seeing it with his own two eyes. And then it’s as if someone had ripped the blindfold from his eyes. It was everywhere. Xaden saw it everywhere and it was so obvious. Garrick who was always first to leave the meeting now stood there, waiting for everyone to leave. Every time he walked past the girls he always made sure to brush his fingers along your back. Find contact with you no matter what. In a sea of cadets, his eyes were always on you.

“When?”, Xaden asked, yanking the back of Garrick’s shirt as the male left one of the meeting halls. Garrick didn’t miss a beat at batting his long-time friend’s hands off him, “Shit man you nearly got me”. But Xaden only puffed his chest more, “When?”, he repeated. Garrick frowned because Xaden was tiptoeing on the edge and he never lost his cool. A fear ran down his spine. What if something happened? What if you got hurt? Taken?

“What the fuck is going on?”, Garrick barely managed to grunt as Xaden’s left fists collided with his jaw. “Answer the fucking question goddamn”, he growled, clearly getting more and more frustrated. Garrick shoved him back slightly, “What in burning dragon shit has gotten into you?”.

A bitter laugh slipped past his friend’s lips, “I should be asking you that”, Xaden’s eyes were burning with anger, “you’re the one screwing my sister behind my back”, his voice raised ever so slightly. Garrick’s face blanched for a heartbeat before a wave of frustration ripped within him as well, “Don’t you dare put it like that”, he pointed a warning finger at Xaden who leaped forward, “You didn’t deny it, shitface”.

He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to punch or choke his long-time friend until a voice split the growing. “Stop this right now”, you called out, reaching to move for them but Garrick moved his free hand up, “Step aside Yn”. Yet another huff echoed, “Don’t tell her what to do”, Xaden bit back and it’s as if something shifted in Garrick, “I will because you are insane and I ain’t taking chances with you”, there was that primal almost frustrations in him. One that Xaden recognized because he too got overtaken by it when anyone got involved with Violet.

Yet still, Xaden pushed through, making sure to back Garrick against the wall, “I will make sure you die a painful…”, “Don’t you finish that Riorson”, you hissed from behind him, as you pulled at your brother’s upper arm. “You are grounded”, Xaden yanked his arm out of your grip, turning his frustration back on you.

“Listen to yourself, you sound like a child”, you said through gritted teeth. “Why was I not informed about this”, Xaden pointed between you and Garrick, before shaking his head, “This can’t be happening”. Garrick let out a low chuckle, “It has been for the past year and then some”, “Garrick”, you huffed pinching the bridge of your nose as he shrugged.

“She’s my sister! My”, Xaden shouted right at his friend's face, “And my girlfriend get in the line of being important to her”, Garrick said with a smirk. “I will choke you in your sleep”, Xaden leaned to tower over Garrick but he didn’t miss the beat doing just the same, “You can try”.

“Boys, please”, your voice was barely a whisper now, you could hear the sadness in it. Garrick’s head wiped in your direction instantly, “Don’t you dare get upset over this”, he hated it. Hated the sight of you sad. Of you upset. He could handle anything just not your tears. “Stop telling her what to do”, Xaden howled but this time Garrick was the one to shove him back before pointing a warning finger at him, “Riorson you are starting to get on my nerves”.

“Shut it, both of you”, you hissed, pushing your way between them and putting them at arm's length. “Garrick, I love you but please just stay quiet for a moment”, you glanced at your boyfriend, silently pleading with him, before your eyes turned to your brother.

“I’m sorry i should have told you”, you muttered. “Fuck yeah you should have”, he huffed. “But we had so little time. You both could have died, I could have died. We took a gamble just in case we survived and here we are”, you intertwined your fingers with Garrick’s and he instantly brought your joined hands up to his lips. Xaden inhaled sharply. “I’ve been really happy, Xaden”, you muttered quietly as your eyes glassed over with tears. Xaden reached out, pulling you closer to him, glaring at Garrick over your shoulder as he kissed the side of your head with a low whisper, “I know”.

You pulled back, hopeful eyes looking right into his soul. His little sister. The other half of his world. He only pushed through for you and Violet. A frown deepened between his brows before he managed to pull somewhat of a smile for you, kissing your forehead. “I will serve you your ass on the mats tomorrow”, Xaden shot a tight look Garrick’s way. He wasn’t ready to have a proper conversation with him yet. He will. He will put him from hell of his own. Just not now. “I’m looking forward to it”, Garrick nodded in agreement. Xaden turned to walk away before stopping. “A single hair breaks on her head and I am scattering you in ribbons”, he threatened, turning back to hold a warning stare with him. Garrick simply pulled you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, “Believe me”, he breathed out, glancing down at you for a moment, “If a hair breaks I will go willingly”. And that was enough for Xaden. Because even if he was angry he knew that Garrick would fight till his last breath to make sure that you were okay and for that alone, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis fourth wing #garrick tavis iron flames #garrick tavis fourth wing imagine #xaden riorson #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader #xaden x reader #xaden fourth wing #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

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angstywaifu · 6 months ago

Text

Wrong Advice - Garrick x Sawyer X Reader

As a thank you for hitting 300 followers I decided to write you guys a little smutty threesome. This is my first time writing something like this and for Sawyer, so it might be a little rough. Sawyer decides it's a good idea to take sex advice from Ridoc instead of Garrick, which promptly backfires on him. While regretting his decisions over lunch with Garrick and Reader, Garrick comes up with something that might help you all. Warnings: NSWF. No spoilers. Smut... Lots and lots of smut. 18+. Oral f and m receiving. Threesome. Pet names. Unprotected PIV. Masterlist

“Do I want to know what happened?” I ask as I take my seat across from Sawyer who has his head buried in his hands.

The only response I get is a groan before Sawyer rests his head on the table with a loud thump, Garrick laughing menacingly at him while carving an apple with his knife.

“Sawyer here decided it would be a great idea to take advice from Ridoc didn’t he.” Garrick says with a pointed stare at Sawyer who groans again.

“I said I was sorry ok!” Sawyer exclaims as he lifts his head from the table. “He can be convincing when he wants to be that cheeky bastard.”

Garrick rolls his eyes and shakes his head before carving another piece from his apple. “And you should know better than anyone else here that he has no experience in what he was offering advice on.”

“I know. But he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Like he’d actually tried it. Now I look like the idiot!” Sawyer burying his face in his hands again.

“Serves you right for taking that advice.” Garrick’s eyes narrowing at the boy in front of us even though he can’t see.

I look between the two confused. “What the hell are you two going on about?” I ask finally.

Garrick chuckles. “Sawyer here decided to take sex advice from Ridoc over me” He teases. “How did that go for you Sawyer?”

Sawyer parts his fingers to look at us, a red tinge of embarrassment evident on the more exposed skin of his face.

“She…. She told me to stop.” He blurts out.

“And what else?” Amusement clear in Garrick’s voice as he leans back in his chair, arm draping over the back of mine.

Sawyers skin flushes a deeper shade of red. So red I’m surprised he hasn’t turned into a tomato.

“She walked out on me.” He mumbles out.

I drop my fork, eyes going wide at Sawyers words. I’d never been with Sawyer, but I knew from Rhiannon he wasn’t bad. She’d been satisfied the time she had hooked up with him after threshing. And I’d seen a handful of girls here and there over the last two years leave his room the morning after. So to hear he had been walked out on…. Well it was surprising. Especially if he’d ben getting advice from Garrick. Another person whose bed I had not ended up in despite our flirtatious banter. But the way the girls talked, I knew whatever advice he had given would not have lead to a girl walking out on Sawyer.

“She walked out on you? What the hell did you do?” I ask, leaning forward on the table.

Sawyers eyes go wide before leaning back in his chair and fidgeting with his fingers.

“It’s not important. You don’t need to hear this.” He says, not wanting to meet my eyes.

“No you can’t just leave me hanging like that. What did you do?” I push, Garrick chuckling next to me.

“He told me to try this position and claimed it always got a girl to finish in seconds. Clearly it didn’t.” He huffs out.

“I don’t blame the girl. You pretty much had her doing a handstand as you thrusted down into her. Definitely not how to get a girl to finish in seconds.” Garrick states bluntly.

“Handstand? What… I don’t even want to know what you were trying to do. But never take advice from Ridoc.” I tell his as I gesture towards Garrick with my fork. “Listen to him. Pretty much every girl in this quadrant wants to be with him or can’t stop talking about how good he is.”

I catch Garrick looking very smug out of the corner of my eye. “Good to know I’ve got a reputation amongst you girls. Even then ones I haven’t taken to my bed.” He says as he pulls my chair towards his, voice dripping ever so slightly.

I can’t help the blush that starts to creep onto my face at his words, the smug look on his face only intensifying.

“Don’t let it get to your head Tavis.” i say sternly, a slight shake to my voice I know he picks up on.

Garrick’s eyes flicker between Sawyer and I. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he smirks wider.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Sawyer asks nervously as he notes Garrick’s look.

“I have a proposition. One that might…. Benefit all of us. But mainly you two.” He stated with a shrug.

Sawyer looks at him confused, but my mind puts the pieces together instantly.

“You can’t be serious?!” I exclaim causing Garrick to chuckle.

“Deadly serious.”

Sawyer looks between us, still not catching on to what Garrick is hinting about. I couldn’t deny I’d wanted to know if Garrick was as good as the other girls said. Hell I found him insanely attractive. But Garrick was one to approach the girls he wanted. And not once had he approached me. Till now.

“Do you two want to clue me in as to what’s going on?” Sawyer asks as he leans forward.

“We’re going to kill two birds with one stone. I’m going to show you how it’s done. And Y/N here is going find out if all that talk about me is true.” Garrick states as if this is normal every day conversation.

A strangled coughing sound comes from Sawyer who had tried to eat some food as Garrick laid out his idea. His eyes flicking to me and going wide, his cheeks that had started to go back to a normal colour returning to the deep read from earlier.

“Well if no one has any objections I will see both of you at my room tonight.” Garrick states as he stands from his chair before leaving Sawyer and I to stare at each other in silence.

“You ready sweetheart?” Garrick asks as he steps forward, pulling me against him as he grasps my chin between his fingers.

He chuckles as I let out a shaky breath. Once we started there was no going back. But in some strange way that excited me.

I feel Sawyer’s eyes on me as I nod. Knowing he’s just as nervous as I am. “Yes.”

Garrick leans in as if he wants to kiss me, my breath catching in my throat. But at the last second he swerves and looks Sawyer in the eye.

”You can start. Undress her.” Garrick’s tone commanding as he pushes me towards Sawyer.

He still looks scared, but there’s something new in Sawyer’s eyes when he looks at me. He reaches out, grasping my hand in his as he pulls me to him.

“You ready sweetheart?” Garrick asks as he steps forward, pulling me against him as he grasps my chin between his fingers.

He chuckles as I let out a shaky breath. Once we started there was no going back. But in some strange way that excited me.

I feel Sawyer’s eyes on me as I nod. Knowing he’s just as nervous as I am. “Yes.”

Garrick leans in as if he wants to kiss me, my breath catching in my throat. But at the last second he swerves and looks Sawyer in the eye.

”You can start. Undress her.” Garrick’s tone commanding as he pushes me towards Sawyer.

He still looks scared, but there’s something new in Sawyer’s eyes when he looks at me. He reaches out, grasping my hand in his as he pulls me to him.

His fingers tremble slightly as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, his gaze seeking approval in my eyes. I nod encouragingly, and he slowly lifts the fabric, breaking the barrier of apprehension that hangs in the air. As the material slides over my head, I'm left standing in just my pants and bra. There's a moment of silence, then Garrick's approving hum fills the room. "Continue," he prompts, his voice low but undeniably commanding as he leans against his desk. I can tell he’s holding back. The slight twitch of his hand as if he wants to reach out and take over, the lust and desire in his eyes. Sawyer’s hands caress my bare skin, drawing my eyes back to him as his hands move to the ties on my pants.

He hesitates for a moment before slowly untying the ties, his fingers brushing against my skin in the process. His actions are slow, careful, as if he's afraid to make a wrong move. But with every second, he seems to grow more confident, encouraged by the approving look in Garrick's eyes.

As Sawyer loosens the ties, another pair of hands starts to pull them down from behind along with my underwear. Their lips kissing down my back as they kneel to pull my pants off. I turn around as I step out of them, to see Garrick now shirtless and standing behind me. Clearly his want to be involved took over trying to sit back and watch.

His hands reach behind my back, undoing the clasp of my bra and pushing the straps down my arms. Leaving me bare before him and Sawyer. Sawyer whose hands now rest on my hips, his thumb rubbing circles into my skin. I shudder and go to jolt into Garrick as Sawyer places light kisses across my back, his hands tightening to keep me in place. Despite the cooler temperature and being naked, I felt flustered and warm, wedged between their bodies.

“Sit down and pull her into your lap.” Garrick says to Sawyer.

Sawyer immediately complies. Walking us backwards to the bed, and pulling me down into his lap as he sits. Pushing my legs open to rest either side of his, his cock pushing into my back. It’s then I realise he’s also taken advantage of Garrick distracting me, and has stripped down. I Turn my head towards Sawyer, pulling his head towards mine before pulling him into a kiss. His hands tighten on my hips, before one roams up to my breast, cupping and needing in in his palm. Garrick hums in approval as I moan at Sawyers touch, craving and wanting more of it as I do my best to push back onto him.

”Such a needy girl.” A hint of mischief in Garrick’s voice as I feel his presence in front of me.

I look over to see Garrick kneeling in front of me, eyes glazed over with lust as he takes me in spread bare before him. I shiver under his stare, as Sawyer kisses my neck as I clench around nothing. These two already had me on edge and they had barely done anything. Clearly Sawyer had learnt at least something from Garrick before taking on Ridoc’s advice. Garrick reaches out, I gasp and squirm in Sawyer’s grip as his fingers run up my centre. His fingers teasing my entrance before lightly tracing my clit.

“Garrick. Please.” I mew, my eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his movements.

”Please what?” His voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

”Need your fingers inside me. Please.” I beg as my hips jut forward.

“Good girl using your manners. How can I say no to you?” His cocky smirk on full display as his fingers slowly makes it’s way to my entrance. “Make sure you have a good hold on her.”

”Wait wh-”

Garrick wastes no time, immediately inserting two of his very large fingers inside of me. My hips immediately bucking out of Sawyer’s grip, who quickly adjust his grip and secures me in his lap. Garrick merely chuckles as he pumps his fingers in and out, curling at just the right time to hit the perfect spot. My head falls back onto Sawyer’s shoulder as I whimper and squirm against his hold.

”Relax darling.” Sawyer whispers in my ear as he continues to kneed my breast in his hand. “We’re nowhere near being done with you yet.”

I clench around Garrick’s fingers at his words, hearing Garrick’s hum of approval. “He’s right sweetheart, this is only the beginning. Think you can take more?”

”Y-yes.” I whimper out as Garrick curls his fingers inside me again.

Garrick’s eyes move from mine to something behind me before nodding. I turn to look at Sawyer who use’s both hands to grip my hips, holding me tightly against him. My words die on my lips, replaced by a loud moan as Garrick’s lips lock around my clit. His tongue lazily circling the bundle of nerves. Mixed with the perfectly timed curl of his fingers on that special spot, I could feel the pressure building quickly between my legs. My hips wanting to break free of Sawyer’s hands to grind on Garrick’s face.

“You getting close darling?” Sawyer mutters in my ear.

I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please let me cum.” I pant as I nuzzle into his neck.

Garrick sucks harder on my clit, inserting another finger inside of me. I don’t know if either of them said I could finish or not, but there was no stopping the waves of pleasure that wracked my body. I vaguely register Sawyer rushing to tighten his grip on me as my back arches off him, my hips grinding further onto Garrick’s face. Garrick whose moan vibrates through me as I do so, adding to the pleasure. Garrick removes his mouth from me, his fingers slowly pumping in and out as he removes one at a time. Sawyer loosens his grip on my hips as I slump back into him, his fingers lazily tracing patters on my hip.

”You still alive sweetheart?” Garrick asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

I nod slowly, trying to catch me breath. Which I quickly fail at as I open my eyes, to Garrick fully bare in front of me. His hand lazily pumping his very erect cock. Holy shit. My eyes must go wide as both boys chuckle at my silence.

”Seems that woke you up.” Sawyer teases as he pushes me up from his lap.

I stumble, my legs still not fully recovered from the ordeal Garrick had put me through. Garrick’s hands grasps my hips, steadying me before I can fall to the ground. My eyes lock with Garrick as he backs us up towards his bed, spinning me around to face Sawyer who is kneeling on the bed waiting.

”Think you can take both of us sweetheart?” Garrick growls in my ear kisses just below my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

Sawyer smiles as I nod eagerly at Garrick’s words. “God’s yes.”

”Good. On your hands and knees facing Sawyer.” Garrick instructs, his usual commanding tone slipping in.

Sawyer opens his mouth to object, but Garrick must give him a look to shut up as he quickly shuts his mouth and nods. Garrick was in control here. What he said went. Especially after Sawyer had taken Ridoc’s advice over his. This was his punishment. Only Garrick would get to properly fuck me tonight.

I crawl onto the bed towards Sawyer, Garrick quickly behind me as the mattress sinks under his weight. His hands resting on my hips as he settles behind me, his top sliding easily through my folds, coating himself in my arousal. I shudder as he slowly rocks back and forth, his tip nudging my clit. I reach out and grasp Sawyer’s cock in my hand, slowly moving my hand up and down, my thumb rolling over the tip as Sawyer’s head rolls back as he mumbles words I can’t make out. His hips jolting forward as slightly tighten my hand.

“Go on pretty girl, show us what you can do with that mouth of yours.” Garrick purrs in my ear as he leans over me.

”Bloody hell!” Sawyer moans as I lick up the underside of his cock before circling the tip with my tongue.

A string of curses fall from his lips, his breathing becoming uneven as I wrap my mouth around his cock, my hand working the rest of him. Slowly he starts to rock his hips back and forth in time with my movements. I’d nearly forgotten about Garrick till he uses the distraction to sheathe himself inside my fully. My scream muffled by Sawyer’s cock in my mouth.

”That’s it Y/N. Taking both of us so well.” Garrick praises from behind me as he starts to thrust back and forth.

Sawyer’s and Garrick fall into a rhythm, matching their thrusts perfectly as I become a moaning mess between them. I couldn’t have prepared myself for the pleasure of taking them both at once. The force of Garrick’s thrust already had me clenching and spasming around his cock. While Sawyer tangles his hand in my hair to desperately chase his own release. Sawyer is the first to tip over the edge, his cum spilling down my throat as he holds in place against his hips as Garrick fucks me onto him.

As soon as Sawyer’s grip on my head loosens, Garrick wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest, his fingers rolling my nipple between his fingers. ”You’re not done yet Henrick. Put those fingers to use. She’s close, aren’t you darling?”

Sawyer complies immediately, shuffling forward on the bed till he’s right in front of me, sandwiching me between them. His hands taking place on my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles around it. Luckily Garrick is holding me up, my body becoming liquid with the amount of pleasure these two are giving me.

”P-please.” I moan out, head rolling back onto Garrick’s shoulder.

”Please what darling?” Sawyer coos at me.

”I-I need t-t c-cum.” I stutter out as Garrick nips at my neck.

”You’ve been such a good girl. Cum for us darling.” Garrick whispers in my ear.

Garrick thrusts up into me so hard I fall forward into Sawyer, who catches me with his free arm while still playing with my clit. With in seconds I cum undone, screaming out both their names as I writher in Sawyer’s arms. Seconds later Garrick pulls my hips flush against him as he moans loudly. For a moment all of us are still. Sawyer holding me in his arms, while Garrick stays buried inside me, head resting on my shoulder. All of us trying to catch our breath, and also come to terms with what we’ve just done. As I push my self upright, I’m immediately met with Sawyer’s smile. And I know, just like me he doesn’t regret this in the slightest. Garrick moves behind me, slowly pulling out of me as I shudder at the loss of him inside me.

”So, whose advice are we no longer taking?” Garrick teases as we all burst into fits of laughter.

”I mean I won’t complain if he does if it leads to this again.” I say in what I mean to be a joke, but gods I wanted this again.

Garrick chuckles behind me. “So, same time next week?”

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis #sawyer henrick x reader #sawyer henrick #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis smut #sawyer henrick smut #fourth wing smut #fourth wing imagine

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soulofapatrick · 16 days ago

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The Fourth Wing Boys and their Kinks

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

Words: 3.9K words

Warnings: smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

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she-whatshername · 2 months ago

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Another Sleepy Tyrrish Men Headcanon

I should be sleeping but instead here’s Garrick

How does he sleep? It’s the letter X, yall. He’s sprawled out taking all the space. At Basgiath he was crammed in small beds that didn’t fit his frame so if he’s back in Aretia, he’s got his body taking up all the bed space.

Any pillows? One. A single pillow is all he needs. When you stay over and ask for a pillow he’s going to be cheeky and say “I’ll be your pillow.” But he’s also serious, he only has one pillow…

But he’s Garrick and always has a plan to take care of everyone so once he finds out how awkward it was to have you over with no spare pillow he secures one for you

How many blankets? Just one. A semi thick blanket. But bonus points is that it’s big. The Tavis family were all tall so his family blanket in his room is so big you both can easily share without fighting for warmth.

Does he snore? Oh yeah. Lumberjack Garrick is sawing logs over there. Xaden makes mention that Garrick runs his mouth even in his sleep. Yes, It’s loud but it’s like, cute lolol. If you give him a little nudge to roll over on his stomach he’ll stop.

He makes you a pair of earrings that have noise canceling runes on them, because he’s Garrick

Nightmares? Yes. More on that below

Cuddler? He’s grabbing you up and tossing you on the bed and grabbing you again once he gets under the covers. He loves to fall asleep with you held close, preferably with your face against his chest. Though, after he’s asleep he rolls off if you and sprawls out on the bed.

Goodnight kiss? Yes.long, slow, intimate as hell and you two usually find yourselves….a bit more active before sleeping due to that level of loving

Is he waking up for late night smoochies? Yes sir. Though I’d like to imagine the nightmares wake him up and he’s so scared and startled he can’t go back to sleep right away. But, he sees you next to him and starts cuddling you again, kissing your shoulders, back, neck, face, wherever.

Is he a shameless flirt who wants to love on you every moment of the day? Yes. Is he also a man with trauma that wants to be comforted but is too prideful to ask for help so he just wants your touch to ground him and intimacy is the only way he thinks he can do that? Also, yes.

#fourth wing #the empyrean #garrick tavis #tyrrish men headcanons you didn't ask for #iron flame #garrick taking up all the room in the bed and in our hearts

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quietstormxr · 2 months ago

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You'll Survive

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence

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

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

Word Count: 4.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘That is no dragon.’ Diomat replies fiercely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘This can kill them?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘DIOMAT!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Where did the squad go?’

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

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

‘Did Nokass give us any orders?’

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

‘Should I tell them about the wyvern?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bodhi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis #xaden riorson #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing xaden

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callsign-rogueone · 11 months ago

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keep her safe - g.t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face.

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly.

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you.

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?”

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument.

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something.

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt.

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.”

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting.

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take.

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.” Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t.

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips.

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden.

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already.

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them.

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #reader insert #fourth wing fanfic #iron flame fanfic #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #throwing this into the void for the three Garrick girlies out there!#liam fic next??#mine #Garrick and Angel

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