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callsign-rogueone · 4 months

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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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moongreenlight · 3 months

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Childhood best friend!Gaz

Who you had the biggest crush on growing up.

Who always bitched about not being able to take girls from school on dates because they all thought the two of you were an item.

Who gave you all of his jerseys to wear to his sporting events and made you swear to come to every single one. Insisted you were his good luck charm- even if he lost. “Can’t expect me to play well when I’ve got such a good looking cheerleader to focus on.”

Who took you to formal and took your virginity in the same night. You still have the corsage he gave you tucked away somewhere in a sentimental shoebox in the corner of your closet.

Who is always your date to weddings. So frequently so that people have started addressing the envelopes to the both of you.

Who calls you at least once a week to catch up and chat, even after moving away from home and joining the service.

Who sometimes whines his way into a video call with you. Both of you in darkened rooms, trying to mumble your way through a rushed rendition of phone sex when he’s got fifteen minutes to himself on a mission. Moaning about how he can’t be fucked to sift through a porn website. “C’mon, darl. Call it a favor. Nobody can see. Don’t even have to talk. Please, darl.”

Who still comes back home when he’s got enough time off the base.

Who insists you come stay at your parents when he’s at his.

Who still sneaks over in the middle of the night to watch movies like he did in high school even though you’re both far too grown. Still sneaks in through the small window in the basement despite fully being allowed in through the front.

Who practically moves his shit into your flat every time he’s got a week or two off of work.

“Jus’ a few weeks, darl. Won’t even know I’m here.”

You’ve stopped protesting at this point, but he still likes to make a scene about it when you make a sarcastic snark about his commandeering the entire living room.

“Couch is a bit cramped, though. Could let me sleep in the bed. We can play house like we used to, yeah? Mums and dads are s’posed to sleep together. Mums and dads are s’posed to do loads of things together.”

#gaz my darling my beloved my angel princess sweetie baby #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #cbf!gaz

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micdixart · 9 months

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so hear me out

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #soap #ghost #gaz #john price #cod mw2 #cod #charlies angels

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thegnomelord · 21 days

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Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.

So here's an idea for an au:

Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.

Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.

He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.

And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.

When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.

Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.

He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.

"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.

"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.

With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.

But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.

And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.

Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.

And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)

He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.

You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."

You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.

Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.

Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.

"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.

Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D

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shadow0-1 · 1 year

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"They sent us in half-assed"

#call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #MWII #blender renders #cod mwii #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #hes my baby boy my little sugar pie my beloved my angel my #used a photoshoot of elliot as the inspo

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unspecifiedfigure · 25 days

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but who wants to live forever, babe?🎇

#i stay using these square emojis on my tumblr posts #i’ve been neglecting tumblr 😩 my angels #anyways have this #classic intimacy of lighting a cigarette for someone #aka my favorite thing to draw #soapgaz #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #my art

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call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes · 6 months

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Exfil thoughts with Soap and Ghost

Soap: Do blind people see their dreams?

Ghost: Do deaf people hear their thoughts?

Price: Do you two ever shut the fuck up?

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #soap mactavish #ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #gaz garrick #captain price #john price #Tagging Gaz because I love him and he's probably sleeping like an angel next to them #Such a good boy #The best Sergeant

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killerkillerkillher · 2 months

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Laying here and thinking about an angel/devil!141 au

Like you're living a relatively peaceful life when someone close to you ties you up and tosses you in a summoning circle with full intentions to sacrifice you.

But they fuck up and don't kill you.

So now a devil!Price and devil!Johnny are bound to you and willing to make your dreams come true. Yay!

Too bad your guardian angel!Kyle and angel!Simon can't let that happen :((( you're meant to go to heaven with them! And they're all like "Noo don't sell your soul, you're so sexy!"

Cue you having to go through your day to day life with a literal set of angels and devils on your shoulders, guiding you while also trying to convince you that you should go to the after life to be with them bc the cunts on your other shoulder won't treat you right.

#call of duty #cod modern warfare #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #angel/devil au #killerthoughts #i might write a chapter for this and see how i feel #idk

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natelia-aldelliz · 1 year

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Some Gaz for the necromancer!Soap & ghost!Roach au :

Gaz : You remind me of a cat sometimes

Soap : Yeah? Why? Most people say I'm a dog for some reason.

Gaz : That's because you're a himbo. I think you're a cat because sometimes you freeze and stare at an empty corner of the room as if you're seeing something I can't see. What are you looking at, ghosts?

Soap : 😀☝️😐😅

Roach : Don't tell him, he's our main source of fun-

Gaz : Hey, I just found out there's a haunted house not that far away and I've been binge watching ghost hunting videos lately, how about we rent some equipment and go try to find ourselves a ghost?

Soap : Oh uh....

Roach : Say yes, please say yes I've always wanted to go ghost hunting!

Soap : Sure.

Then at the haunted house there isn't a single ghost, except Roach, who makes all their equipment go crazy all by himself, and who has the time of his life. Gaz thinks he experienced something huge and Soap doesn't have the heart to tell him that his army of ghosts were actually just a dead Welsh madman cackling like the menace for society that he is from the top of the stairs...

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #ghostsoaproach #soaproach #accidental necromancer soap and ghost roach au #poor gaz he's getting bullied someone call pest control #for the roach cackling scene just picture stitch from the 'send me your nicest angel' scene from lilo and stitch #soap : wouldn't that be human hunting for you actually? since *you're* the ghost #roach : oh yeah i guess i'm hunting humans #soap :.... now that i've said it out loud it's scaring me... please don't hunt people

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angel-ghosts-pet-gremlin · 2 months

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You can also ask me questions about myself, or if you need anything I can try to help! If you need someone there with ya' I can write stories about you and your fav character on almost anything I know! I am from London, so I am British, but I try my best to write normal and not my accent. I hope i get welcomed to the Tumblr Community! I will try my best, if anyone needs anything, you can tell me your problems and I can help!

#cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #soap mactavish #modern warefare ii #cod mw22 #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

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all the small things - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x gn!reader 💌: …would you consider writing something for Garrick that explores some of the little intimate, familiar, or caring details he would do for/with the person he’s in a relationship with? words: 1.1k 🏷: no book spoilers! NSFW at the end, because it’s Garrick and I had to. just some thoughts about Gare being soft and cute (and a little sexy) with his partner. I managed to make this gender neutral. I’m trying a list format this time bc that flows better than a dozen little scraps lol

I feel like Garrick is a quiet partner, that he shows his feelings for you in a lot of little ways that you might not even notice.

He’s just always there.

If you’re studying, he’s studying with you, or working on something else quietly, sharpening his knives, etc.

While you’re chatting with a friend, he’s sitting a foot or two away, slicing a clean dagger through an apple, cutting off a small piece and extending it to you silently.

He is absolutely not afraid to use his stature and his scary reputation to his advantage when it comes to protecting you.

Some guy made you uncomfortable in the laundry room? Well, now every Thursday night is laundry night for both of you, and he’s gonna stand behind you the whole time, brooding at anyone in the room Xaden-style and making sure they leave you alone.

Your safety is his number one priority.

We all know Dain’s philosophy — I’m going to do everything I can to keep you out of harm’s way

Garrick’s is a bit more nuanced — Harm is going to come to you no matter what, because the world is cruel and we’re literally preparing for war. While I’ll still do everything I can to protect you, I’ll also do everything I can to teach you to protect yourself.

He’s strict about keeping your training routine, giving you extra practice sparring near-daily. He knows when you can handle it and when you can’t. On days when you’re truly exhausted, injured, or at your limit, or something really upset you etc, you’ll spend training time resting — cuddles!

I know this man is an amazing cuddler. All that soft, warm muscle… big hands… strong arms to wrap around you… there’s no escape. Not that you’d ever want to leave lol

… Where were we?

He takes responsibility for your safety (as much as he can in this very dangerous school) while still letting you handle yourself.

That said, he’ll take matters into his own hands for small situations. He will not hesitate to pull you out of the way if people run by and might bump into you, etc. (plus it’s an excuse for him to hug you in the middle of the day lol)

He grabbed you by the back of your shirt once to stop you from hitting the ground when you tripped over your own shoelace — he then proceeded to set you upright and kneel down to tie said shoelace for you.

Xaden never lets him hear the end of that. (“How come you never tie my shoes for me, Gare?”)

Big acts of service guy.

He’ll fill your water bottle in the morning, and he expects it to be empty at the end of the day or he will make you chug it because hydration is important. He ignores any eye rolls or complaints — you both know that he does this because he loves you.

He makes sure you’re eating, knows your favorite and least favorite foods, and will wordlessly move things on / off of your plate at meals, because you’re sitting directly next to him, of course. You know he wants you close and that’s a way you show love back to him. You also give him your leftovers sometimes. The boy can eat; that's half of how he put on so much muscle.

If you have long hair, he’ll keep one of your hairbands or pins etc in his pocket for whenever the need arises. He likes helping you with your hair, too. He's not the best at braiding or doing other hairstyles, but he’s trying and he’s improving! He also absolutely loves it when you sit in front of him and let him brush your hair / detangle / condition it etc.

He will always take the opportunity to wash your hair. He's super thorough with it and it feels so nice and relaxing.

As Ilya Kaminsky wrote: “Soaping together / is sacred to us / Washing each other’s shoulders. / You can fuck / anyone— but with whom can you sit / in water?”

Garrick. Garrick is whom. he loves showering with you after a long day, washing your back or places you can’t reach, being super gentle with any injuries you have, kissing every bruise and scar.

aaand this is getting nsfw, because it’s Garrick;

Don’t get me wrong though — he loves showering with you for other reasons, too. He loves seeing you naked, obviously, loves gliding soapy hands over your skin, kneading the softest parts of you, massaging gently and getting you all pliant and relaxed for him…

He’ll never pass up an offer to press you against the tiled wall and fuck you until you need to take another shower.

Speaking of fucking… Garrick fucks.

He took his sweet time with you in the beginning, when your relationship was just starting, because he wanted to make you feel loved and safe with him of course, but also because he was studying.

He’s learned almost everything about your body. He knows what feels good for you, and recognizes all the signs that you’re about to cum — the cute sounds and expressions you make, the way your breathing changes and you grip his hand a little tighter…

King of praise btw. The boy cannot shut up between the sheets. always telling you how pretty you are, how well you’re taking it, that you deserve to feel so good, just relax and let it out…

But it isn’t all soft and sweet. He's strong, and you’ve put that strength to the test multiple times. He's more than able to pin you down, to keep your legs spread, to hold you in all sorts of positions while he does what he does best.

Being an executive officer comes with a lot of paperwork, and he often gets stuck doing Xaden’s too (they really need to stop using that as a betting chip), but if you sit on his bed all pretty and keep quiet while he works on it, he’ll make it up to you by bending you over the desk when he’s finished.

Remember what I said about keeping you out of danger? There's gonna be consequences if you do something reckless in training or out in the field… That’s all I’ll say on the subject for now 🤭

I got a little carried away there… Can you tell I’m currently working on three different Garrick smuts? gonna be exploring some of those things in more detail ^^ 👀

all in all, Gare is an amazing boyfriend and he loves you so much 🥺 big strong boy is just so soft for you and only you, and wants to take care of you all the time and make you feel loved and protect you from the cruelty of the world. ❤️

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis smut #kinda lol #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #theoretically I could tag this as #Garrick and Angel #bc this all applies to them too #mine

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blnk338 · 8 months

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Rigoreaper gazreaper soapreaper and additionally izzietank angeltank rigotank

#rwys rigo #rwys reaper #rwys tank #rwys navarro #rwys izzie #rwys #rwys gaz #rwys soap #rodrigo cassidy #Isabella Okazaki #angel navarro #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish

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callsign-bunnie · 1 year

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Can we please have a part 3 of demon Alex and angel Gaz? Maybe they’re relationship as they get closer?

Pt 3! Tag is angels and demons cod fic

Gaz stretched his wings out and fluttered them before gasping as water was dumped over his head. “Hey!” He huffed and glared up at Rodolfo, who just glared back at him.

“You’re a mess!” Rodolfo huffed back, his lilac wings ruffling with irritation. “You’re lucky I’m not telling Price that you went out of the garden!”

Gaz winced and turned back to the water, shifting around in the giant tub he was in. “Please don’t…”

Rodolfo paused and then Gaz saw him soften out of the corner of his eye. Soap had apparently informed Rodolfo of everything that had happened. “Gaz… you knew you weren’t supposed to leave… why did you?”

Gaz looked over, the gold from Rodolfo’s adornments catching his eye. Large wing piercings hung over his wings, jingling softly as Rodolfo moved. He sighed and leaned against the side of the tub, putting his chin on his arm. “I was curious… I wanted to see…”

“There’s a reason why we don’t leave!” Rodolfo huffed and shook his head. “We’re not warriors, Gaz.”

“I’m not.” Gaz corrected, touching the scar in Rodolfo’s side. Rodolfo had once been a valiant warrior… But he couldn’t fight anymore. Price had brought him to the garden many decades ago… “You could be.”

“Price doesn’t want me fighting anymore. Besides, when would I have time?” Rodolfo tsked and then he was grabbing a wash cloth, scrubbing it over Gaz’s face, gently. “I have my hands full with you two.”

Gaz laughed, softly, and closed his eyes. His mind drifted back to the demon and he hesitated. “Rudy?”

“Yes?” Rodolfo’s hands moved to cleaning the dirt from Gaz’s shoulders and Gaz moved so he could do so better, opening his eyes to look up at Rodolfo, who had his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Tell me about demons…” Gaz requested. He didn’t miss the way Rodolfo’s movements stuttered, but he remained confident.

“Why do you want to know?” Rodolfo mumbled, avoiding Gaz’s eyes.

Gaz smiled. “I know Soap told you about the demon that rescued me.”

“Now I fear that telling you may have you run back to find one.” Rodolfo shook his head. “They’re dangerous.” He murmured. “Deceptive. All they know how to do is lie.” His voice turned bitter and Gaz flinched. Rodolfo met his eyes and then softened. “But they’re beautiful…” His voice softened, almost wistful.

Gaz again reached and touched Rodolfo’s scar. “So beautiful…” He agreed, thinking of Alex’s blue eyes. His black wings… how everything about him drew Gaz in, made him want to drown in his being.

Rodolfo had gone quiet and Gaz looked up, seeing distance in his eyes. “Tell me about them, again?” He asked, knowing Rodolfo would know what he meant.

Rodolfo paused and his hands stopped running the cloth over Gaz’s skin. Gaz again looked at the water, seeing that the dirt from his skin had started to mix with the pink milky water. He ran his hand through it, sending shimmering swirls. Rodolfo was quite adept at potions, so he had no doubt he’d put something in it meant to soothe.

It had worked, there wasn’t a worry in Gaz’s mind.

“Valeria and Alejandro were… beautiful. Too beautiful. Fire and ice…” Rodolfo murmured, moving so he was sitting beside the tub. “Strong, too. Brilliant fighters, so complimentary of each other.”

“They loved you.” Gaz nodded, laying his head on his arm again.

Rodolfo shook his head. “No. They loved… the power they had over me.” He murmured. “That’s the thing about demons, Gaz. You give them a taste of power and they exploit it. It’s their vice, their addiction. Their… craving.” He reached up and cupped Gaz’s face. “They don’t consider us equal to them… They feel themselves inferior so the moment they can get above us, they will.”

Gaz frowned and then shook his head. “But born demons are different-”

“Valeria and Alejandro were both born demons.” Rodolfo sighed. “Horns and wings and everything. From two of the highest born families. Look where it got me.” He shifted, showing his scar. “Please, Gaz. Don’t go looking for demons. Stay here, where you’re safe.”

Gaz looked at Rodolfo’s side and then softened. “Okay, Rudy…” He murmured. Rodolfo was right. Even if Alex had helped him, there was no guarantee he would hesitate to hurt Gaz if he got the opportunity. “Why would… why would one help me?”

Rodolfo considered. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Gaz frowned and then looked down, relaxing when Rodolfo went back to washing him. When he was clean, Rodolfo helped him out of the bath and then he was gently pulling him to Gaz’s bedroom where he helped him dry off and then brushed his wings before sending him to bed.

Gaz laid in bed, unable to sleep. If he was too still, his mind was sent images of that horrible night and he just… didn’t want to deal with that. So, instead, he turned his mind to the demon, turning him over and over. Why would he help him if he didn’t feel empathy?

I would... have been angry if an angel had walked by me being violated and did nothing to stop it. You didn't deserve that. No one does.

Rodolfo was wrong. He didn’t know how, but Rodolfo had to be wrong… Alex had helped him, why would he do that if he just wanted to feel power over Gaz?

No, no, Rodolfo had to be wrong, at least about Alex.

Gaz woke up with resolve. He was going to try to find the demon. Of course, that meant he’d need to leave the garden again which scared the shit out of him but… He was positive he could.

So, he’d snuck outside when no one was paying attention. Rudy was apparently busy helping Soap organize the library, which… Gaz wasn’t sure he believed Soap was actually doing that, but he decided not to question it.

And he went to where he’d snuck out of the garden before. He found the break in the fence, though the warding stone nearby made it so only angels could enter. He slipped through, wincing as his wing got snagged for a moment, before shaking them out.

He didn’t have any adornments like Rudy. He’d considered getting them at some point, but… getting a giant needle stuck in his wings sounded frightening. He glanced around before carefully starting to head through the trail into the forest.

Technically, he was still in angel territory, but humans occasionally walked through, that was how he’d gotten grabbed last time. He stayed on high alert, glancing around as he walked.

“Why did you leave the garden?” Gaz jumped, startled, and whipped around. There the demon was, his arms crossed and only five feet away from Gaz. “You know it’s not safe.”

Gaz’s face broke into a smile. “Were you watching me?” He asked, curiously. How had the demon just known he’d left?

Alex shifted his weight and then looked away. “Maybe. I worried you’d make the same mistake you’re making right now.”

“I was just trying to find you.” Gaz informed Alex. “And here you are!”

“You shouldn’t do that. It’s dangerous, you’re not a warrior.” Alex sighed, before softening. “Here I am…” He nodded, coming over. “Now go back into the garden-”

“No.” Gaz shook his head. “I want to get to know you more.”

Alex pinned him with a look and Gaz flushed and averted his gaze, unable to help shrinking back from its intensity. “Please?” Gaz tried.

Alex sighed, a moment later, and then nodded. “Fine. But… just for a few hours and then you go back.”

Gaz perked up, grinning. “Of course!” He’d push that time, later, if need be. He decided to grasp what he had, taking Alex’s hand and pulling him to a nearby rock.

Alex seemed almost amused, sitting on the rock. Gaz glanced over him, seeing he had a fairly similar outfit as he had the day before. Same black leather jacket, but the new shirt was a maroon color. “Why do you want to get to know me?”

Gaz scrambled for an excuse. “You saved me.” He settled on. “I’d like to know my rescuer.”

“You do know me.” Alex shrugged. “My name is Alexei, isn’t that good enough?”

Gaz shook his head, being earnest. “Nope.”

“Of course not.” Alex chuckled. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Gaz immediately asked. It was his go to.

Alex seemed to pause. “Blue. Dark blue.”

Gaz nodded. “I like that color. I like green. Any green but mostly soft greens.” He laid back on the rock, stretching his wings out. “Are you from an important family?”

“No.” Alex laughed and shook his head. “No, my family was bottom of the barrel.”

Gaz nodded. “So was mine. It wasn’t until General Price took me in-”

“General Price?!” Alex jerked away from him, almost like Gaz had stung him. “I should have put the pieces together with the garden but… Fuck! No, no, I cannot be here with you.”

“He won’t do anything,” Gaz frowned and lifted. “I promise.”

“If he even suspects that I, a demon, am here with you, he’ll fucking kill me!” Alex shook his head.

“Please stay…” Gaz’s wings dropped. He really wanted to get to know Alex and he couldn’t do that if Alex left. “Please…”

Alex stopped and stared at him. “Fuck… Don’t look so sad.”

Gaz looked down and put his hand on the rock. “Please?” He tried, again, knowing that that had worked last time. “I promise I won’t tell him…”

Alex sighed. “You are so unbelievably dangerous. Fine, fine, I will stay but the first sign of him and I am gone.”

Gaz again perked up and smiled. “Okay!” He pat the rock so Alex would sit down, fluttering his wings when he did. “Tell me more about yourself.”

Alex seemed to hesitate. “Okay… Well, I have two friends, actually they’re from important families. I have a cat that you probably didn’t get to see because she’s shy. She’s a demon cat, obviously, and she doesn’t tend to like angels much.”

Gaz gasped. “I’ve never seen a demon cat.” He shook his head. “What’s her name?”

“Lilith.” Alex chuckled. “A bit cliche, I know, but I like the name. She’s a black cat, but she has green eyes.”

Gaz smiled, thinking she sounded cute. He then hesitated. “I… I have to know… what did you use to kill the human?”

Alex paused and then shrugged, reaching behind his back and pulling a crossbow from it. “It’s my preferred weapon.”

Gaz at first flinched back before looking at it, curiously. He reached to touch it, but Alex quickly pulled it back. “Careful, I don’t know if any of the poison is on it.” Alex frowned.

Gaz knew a small amount about the poison. Devil’s blood, most angel’s called it, because in liquid form it looked very similar to the inky black blood that most demons bled. It used to be a myth that demons would use their own blood to make it, but Gaz knew that wasn’t true, now.

But, he didn’t know exactly what was used. Even still, touching it wouldn’t kill him, but it could make him very sick and he didn’t want to be sick, so he pulled his hand back.

“Mine is a scythe.” Gaz smiled, watching Alex put the crossbow back behind his back.

Alex had an impressed expression so Gaz stood and moved his hand in a circle before the weapon appeared, twirling in his hand a moment before he caught it and put the base of it in the ground. It was a bright silver.

Alex seemed to watch him almost in awe, which had Gaz’s skin turning dark red. “It’s beautiful…” Alex murmured. “Why didn’t you use it to defend yourself?”

“I didn’t have a chance!” Gaz exclaimed, half slashing the scythe in frustration. “I was grabbed too fast or I would have!”

Alex shook his head. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened, you didn’t deserve that.”

Gaz paused and then melted. How could Alex be bad if he kept saying those things? And he had full opportunity to hurt Gaz, right now, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was watching him in awe. “Rudy says all demons know how to do is lie.” He admitted, moving and sitting on the rock again, twisting his hand so the scythe disappeared.

Alex shrugged. “He’s probably right.” He sighed and leaned back on his hands. “Not me. Or my friends, I promise. I… I vow it.”

Gaz stared at Alex in surprise. Vows were sacred, even for demons. No, Rudy was definitely wrong! Why would Alex just vow that if he was bad?! He relaxed. “I believe you. I don’t think you’re bad.”

Movement caught Gaz’s eye and he glanced at Alex’s wings, seeing they had appeared to almost… shiver. Or… flutter? Gaz’s face turned red again and he softened. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m bad.” Alex nodded. “But, you can’t see me after this.”

“Why not??” Gaz shook his head. “I want to!”

“You can’t.” Alex sighed. “There are many reasons, but the main one is your safety. You’re not safe out of the garden. And General Price will kill me if he finds out you and I have been spending time together.”

“I won’t let him,” Gaz shook his head. “Please… you saved me, I… don’t be so cruel and leave me…” He pleaded. “I want to be friends with you…”

Alex watched him and then softened. “We can’t be friends…”

“Please!” Gaz pleaded. He hesitated, trying to find some way to make Alex stay near. “I’ll… I’ll…”

Alex shook his head. “It’s not safe,” he insisted.

Gaz started to panic. He could see the resolution in Alex’s eyes and he was desperate! He shook his head again, scrambling for some way to make Alex stay, to make him want to be near Gaz. “Please, please, I’ll do anything, don’t leave…” He promised. “I’ll… I’ll…”

He moved close to Alex, touching his leg. “I’ll do whatever you want…” He looked at Alex through his lashes, trying to do what he’d seen Rudy do several times.

“Woah, no-” Alex immediately was up and away from him. “I don’t want that. I do not want that.”

Gaz paused and then moved back. “You… you don’t?”

“No!” Alex shook his head and then ran a hand down his face. He hesitated and then sighed. “You’re dangerous.” He muttered, repeating his earlier sentiment. “Fine. Fine, we can be friends.”

Gaz perked up and then was pleased with himself. Well, he’d done it wrong, but hey it worked! “Awesome..” He smiled. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow.” Alex shook his head. “I’m busy.”

Gaz paused and then considered, furrowing his brows. “Friday?”

“Friday works,” Alex nodded. “Now, please go back to the garden!”

Gaz hesitated and then smiled. “Okay!” He quickly stood and left, pleased. He’d made the demon his friend. Now to convince Rudy and Soap that Alex wasn’t so bad…

#Kyle Gaz Garrick #Gaz Cod #Alex Keller #Alex COD #Gaz x Alex #Alex x Gaz #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare II #gazalex #the gazalex agenda #queue for dinner again hunny?#angels and demons cod fic

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