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pearlywritings · 2 months

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Wriothesley nsfw alphabet

tw: female reader, established relationship (you two are married), office sex, tiiny mention of consensual somnophilia

word count: 3.9k+ words

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

For a couple of minutes Wriothesley will stay by your side, catching his breath. His palm will always rest on some part of your body, feeling the pleasant heat of your skin under the fingertips. Then, after sharing a little kiss, he’ll promptly leave but won’t be gone for long - with a warm wet towel the man will clean your body and then his (or let you do it if you’d like to). With some briefs on or remaining nude, he’ll bring you something to drink and snack on and as you are leaning into his frame to do just that, he’ll sip some calming tea from his own mug. You share a moment of blissful silence or quietly discussing the most mundane things, like how your days were, and it’s so perfectly domestic, that Wriothesley can’t help but fall in love with you a little bit more.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Wriothesley is not an oblivious person. He is highly aware that once fear from meeting his personа evaporates, many start ogling his body, practically lusting for him. And while he doesn’t feel particularly flattered, he feels pride - after all, he’s managed to build such a physique through the years of heavy labor and exhausting fights. If he has to choose though, then he’ll pick his chiseled jawline, because that’s where you love to leave the majority of your kisses.

When it comes to you, his lovely wife, he’d pick your chest without hesitation. He quickly grew to appreciate burying his face between your soft mounds as you run your fingers through his hair, letting him rest for a moment. He loves how his big hands cupping them look like. He doesn’t fail to moan louder at the feeling of your swollen nipples resting on his tongue. He adores when your breasts move as he is drilling into your pussy. And he cums almost instantly when you give his hard cock a tit job.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cums a lot, emptying his heavy balls with a wild shiver running down his back. Wriothesley likes being a little messy while at home, not shying from smearing the last drops of his cum over your lips or tits, or pussy. If you are in his office, however, he always has condoms stuffed in one of his drawers just to deal with less mess afterwards. If you let him cum inside though, he wouldn’t mind one bit too.

What he loves more though, is how you always tell him that there is surely some more left in his sack and that maybe you should go for another round to release it. There is something thrilling in how you want to milk his aching member dry.

What he loves even more, is when you cum, or better squirt, on his tongue, letting him lick and slurp your liquids to his heart’s content (or till your next orgasm).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This man has quite a number of piercings, both visible and invisible to the eye of a bystander. And every time Wrio sees your bare breasts, he can’t help but wonder if you’d get your nipples pierced to match his. They’d get even prettier and so sensitive, and the metal would roll so wonderfully on his tongue as he’d be playing with them… But he also knows that this thing is not for everyone and that there are people who can’t handle pain as well as he does, so… For now it’s just a fantasy of his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

There is experience, but for the longest time Wriothesley considered sex as nothing more but meeting his body’s needs, which doesn’t grant one with the pleasure of intimate connection. Besides, what love can you find in a prison? And why would you even seek one in the conditions the previous warden enforced?

He was so happy that he was wrong. When, after months of dating, you allowed him to take you for the first time, he felt excitement. He wanted to show you all the ways he could make you feel good, and when you oh so sweetly expressed your desire to return the favor, he practically melted. That night changed everything for him.

He still fondly relishes in the memory of your first time, even now, years later, with more experience under his belt, and yet still learning new stuff together with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Please ride him with your chest in his face or at least hands. He’d beg on his knees if he has to. There is nothing more melodious to his ears than your skin slapping against his and slick making squelching noises as you lift and drop back onto his cock, while also releasing the sweetest moans, and nothing better than feeling the softest curves of your body by his fingers and mouth.

Bending over the table is one of his favorites too, because that’s exactly what happens half of the times when he’s horny and you just happen to visit him in his office. Also has an excuse to put his palms under your breasts because his desk “is too cold”.

However, he can be selfish sometimes and keep you between his spread legs while your throat is occupied with his leaking member. Wriothesley can’t deny that when you are cockwarming him this way on slower sessions, he is on cloud nine.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Your husband is serious, but also so random. While in the process, his mouth runs faster than his thoughts, so he might blurt something stupid out and you’d both share a giggle about it. However usually he’s too focused on your body and making sure you feel good to joke around

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Now Wriothesley is what people may call a “manly man”. He tries to shave his face regularly, yet the stubble is very quick to reappear. His eyebrows are dark and thick, he has chest hair, as well as on his arms and legs.

So, of course he has a delicious, thick, dark, happy trail starting right under his belly button and traveling down to the base of his cock. He grooms it regularly, but never shaves it off completely, because, even though you don’t voice it, he never misses the way that black and gray line disappearing under the waist of his pants always catches your attention. Or how you couldn’t be more obvious while absent-mindedly combing your fingers through the hairs as your palm rests on his stomach during something as sweet as cuddling, or as dirty as sucking his cock.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In a long-term relationship - let alone married to you, - this man is a huge teddy bear and seeks for your smile. So, romantic dinners, or seagazing, or baths with flower petals are a common part of your love-making routine. Even if sex happens randomly - in his office, or on the kitchen table in the morning, - he still doesn’t forget to praise you, hold your body close to his, and murmur an occasional “I love you”, while your fingers are intertwined and the rings are catching the light beautifully.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He grew addicted to you, and with that addiction his attraction and sex drive increased. He doesn’t feel embarrassed about his need to masturbate to relieve some tension when you are not here or do not feel like having sex (he’ll never pressure you). However, Wriothesley finds it endearing, when pleasuring himself is integrated into the love-making process. To see you sitting on the opposite end of the bed, bare, with your fingers thrusting in and out of your squelching pussy, makes his fist tighten around his own wet with pre-cum length and speed up the motion of his wrist.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Scratching. It was by pure accident when he discovered this kink. That night he was giving his all to leave the bed broken by the end of it, fucking into you so hard and animalistically, that you needed something to keep you grounded. Grabbing at the sheets was not enough anymore, so you wrapped your arms around his wide back. With every thrust of his strong hips your nails dug deeper and deeper into his skin, until they raked down in response to a blinding orgasm your lover put you through. Once you both got back to your senses and assessed the damage, you felt like shit for hurting him, but, to your surprise, Wriothesley asked you to do it again next time. And you did, making him cum copiously.

Temperature play. He is blessed with a Vision and is a tease who loves experimenting, so… Enjoys making his palms cold just to make you shiver, especially if you are blindfolded and unaware of where his fingers will end up next. Adores circling around your erected nipples and running the tips of his digits down your stomach or back and then suddenly tap against your needy clit. Makes you mewl every time.

Morning sex with elements of consensual somnophilia. Wriothesley is not particularly a morning person and after you spoiled him by simply being in his life and sleeping with him in one bed, he awakes very slowly and groggily. However, when you wake him up with a nice blowjob or slow rocking on top of his hips, while his morning wood is nicely warmed up between your walls, the man is guaranteed an amazing mood for the rest of his day. He loves returning the favor too - he is not going to spoil his appetite for breakfast if he eats your pussy out first.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any place that’s hidden from prying eyes and does not make you uncomfortable. This man can adapt pretty quickly to any situation, and even if it’s just an empty room with no furniture to rest your body on, there is nothing stopping him from hoisting you up and making his arms and gravity do their job.

Though he can’t deny that the bed in your bedroom is the perfect option, since it’s the best and biggest space to maneuver your bodies comfortably and then rest between the rounds. And, subconsciously, he knows it’s the one place where he won’t protest should you tell him to take a break and not rush back to finish some of his work.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The morning sight of you in nothing but his shirt makes his cock stir. The soft bourbon material covers enough of your body, but a couple of buttons undone show him your pretty collarbones, painted with his love bites, and when you turn your back to him and reach for something on a shell, he has an appetizing view of of your backside, which he never fails to squeeze, while planting a kiss to your temple. But also, it's the domesticity of you comfortably wearing his clothes that riles him up.

Also he loves your commanding tone, especially when you chide him for overworking and urge him to take a break and get away from his desk. Usually you don't move too far, ending up on the couch in his office either with his mouth on your breasts or his cock balls deep in that tight cunt of yours. Or both.

On a softer side of him, his heart beats faster whenever you call him by words of endearment. His name isn’t truly his, and he doesn’t feel any connection with it, that’s why when you call him something else, especially yours, he wants to cup both your cheeks and kiss you till you both run out of breath.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won’t use his work handcuffs on you. They are for catching criminals and are too heavy and harsh for your beautiful wrists, so if you want restrictions - he obtains ones specifically for sex.

Will never share you with anyone. While he is open to experiments, he does not want to include other people, because your relationship is sacred to him and the man’ll rather die than have his trust in you fluctuate.

No mommy/daddy kink. He…just doesn’t want to bring any parent-related stuff into your sex life.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Wriothesley is a fan of both, yet leaning more into the ‘giving’ area. Your flushed cheeks, glazed over eyes, trembling bitten lips, heavily rising and falling chest, shaking thighs and fingers in his hair… Please, give him more of your reactions while his tongue laps your pussy. Equally loves you being under him and sitting on his face - a meal is a meal.

When it comes to you giving him a blowjob, the Duke feels like the most important person in Teyvat with the way you look up at him with those pretty eyes as his tip rests onto your tongue and then slides down your throat. If you let him fuck your tits while at it - he’ll become completely putty in your hands.

Enjoys 69, and doesn’t avoid it even if there is no way to lie down. You know first hand just how strong this man is and how easily he handles your body.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually he is not rough with you - unless he really is pent up or you ask him to. Though he does prefer faster pace, going for deeper penetration, because it creates the sexiest variation of sounds, reactions and actions. Plus, sometimes you have too little time to finish and he will be damned to let you leave unsatisfied.

On slower nights or in the mornings, his thrusts are not as wild and more sensual, dragging his cock in and out slowly, letting you thoroughly enjoy the rub of his thick veins against your walls. It also gives him more opportunities to stimulate your other erogenous zones with hands and mouth, providing you with the most mind-blowing orgasms. Besides, such pace tires both of you less, so there is a greater possibility to have more rounds than one, and there is nothing more fantastic, especially after long weeks of work, than having you so intimately close to him for longer.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

An integral part of your intimate life. His office is like a second bedroom in the sense of how often you have sex there. You may come just to deliver something to Sigewinne from the city and simply stop by your lover’s office to check up on him, yet still end up on the couch with his face buried between your thighs. With only 5 minutes at your disposal before he has to make the rounds of the Fortress.

Honestly, the melusine nurse (who is obviously aware of what her work guardian and his wife do, she is not dumb) can’t figure out if you two are just this horny, or you have coitus so often pursuing a different goal…

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Admittedly, Wriothesley’s daily routine can get quite boring, so he is always up to something exciting in your relationship. He’ll do his research together with you on the topic that caught either of your attention, might seek advice from his friends if he knows they practice it. All for your safety.

He’ll be open with his opinion once you try something and he’ll heed yours too, of course. Is up to a compromise as well.

Lately, he’s had a talk with Neuvillette, and after some personal discussions, the Iudex admitted that, obviously, the nature of his and his wife’s bedroom activities sometimes is more… primal, given their backgrounds. And while the Duke can’t fully experience it, since he is only human, he can suggest you a roleplay of a kind… The thought hasn’t been leaving his head ever since.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Wriothesley is sturdy and can last quite awhile, so in case of durability he relies on how long you can endure. Doesn’t mind exploiting his hand to finish once you are too spent to go any longer, or, if you don’t mind, using his strong arms to push your thighs or breasts together, trapping his dick for friction.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A fan of restrictions on himself. Entrusting you the power over his body is exciting, and he is always eager to know how you’ll handle him this time. Besides, it’s giving him an opportunity to relax, so he doesn’t complain one bit when you demand to be the one taking care of him tonight and not the other way around.

He has a love/hate relationship with your dildos. On one hand he feels jealous when he sees and hears how this silicone length fills you up and gets to be covered in your slick. On another hand however, you look so hot, lifting and dropping down onto it, or attaching it to the wall and moving your hips back and forth, or sucking on it as he pounds into you with his own cock… Yeah, he can’t make up his mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing is like a second nature to him. It comes easier with words, but actions make you crave and languish just the same.

“What is it, princess? My mouth is not enough? But you came two times already and I only fucked you with my tongue… Oh, it’s empty inside? You poor thing… Do you want a finger? Sure, you can have one.”

And then take his time adding the second and the third, making himself comfortable in such a position, which gives you a perfect view of his other hand stroking the cock you want so desperately.

Or being a meanie and paying you back for riling him up at work when he couldn’t take a break a week ago by walking around the house completely naked, semi hard and leaning onto the kitchen counter so fucking sexily with a mug of his morning tea, while you are running like crazy around the apartment, trying to get ready for work and not stare at his invitingly appetizing body. You can survive a day with soaked panties, sweety, he had to with his messy briefs after all.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Has the sexiest deep moans, that get even more cunt-wetting if hoarsely released in the morning. Plus, he grunts and pants, doing it right against your ear on purpose, because Wrio knows how tightly you clench when he does so. Occasionally there is a throaty chuckle when something you say or do amuses him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Puffs of hot air caress your chest, your lover’s forehead is pressed to your collarbones, gray hairs wet and stuck to the skin. Your hands, suddenly weak and heavy, drop limply to the sides of your body, finally leaving the broad back of the man above you. Next to give out are your legs, yet Wriothesley instinctively reaches to hold onto your knees to unwrap you from around his hips and gently lowering two tired limbs onto the mattress.

A minute passes in silence, which is disturbed by your mutual attempts to catch your breath only. Satisfaction tingles in every cell of your being and a pleasant warmth spreads in your chest, right where the heart is, where his face is planted. Your lover grunts a second later, rubbing his nose against the skin of your cleavage and you smile, forcing your head to lift and kissing the top of his head. Suddenly eyes of bluish steel are gazing at you, and you don’t have time to react when his lips capture yours in a tender kiss. However, the way his body moved forward is hard to miss, when his softened, yet still impressive girth drags against your walls.

Your husband is all too happy to swallow that strained moan, sliding his tongue between your parted lips, lapping at your own squirmy muscle. Archons, he makes you melt.

“How is my princess feeling?” His voice’s murmur caresses your ears and touches the strings of your heart. The lovesick look that appears on your face should be an answer enough for him.

“So-so good, baby… I’ve enjoyed every second of it. Have you?”

“Do you really think I can ever say ‘no’ to such a question?” He chuckles softly when you pout, and in this moment you couldn’t be lovelier.

“Meanie,” you stick your tongue at him and Wriothesley chuckles again, straightening up, sitting back on his heels. Fingers flex on your waist, keeping your pelvises connected as he is gazing down at you, thinking over the next step.

“Who, me? Oh, my dear, I haven’t even started being mean…”

Suddenly your body is tugged forward and with a gasp and a soft moan your chest is flush to his, arms instinctively return to wrap around his shoulders and your ass is firmly planted into his wide palms. All of that with his dick still inside you.

“Now, I have,” his smirk is sexy and is enough to distract you from how he maneuvers you off of the bed and plants his feet onto the ground. Only when he takes an experimental step you realize you are fucked (soon literally).

“W-wrio, s-slow down! If you walk like this, we’ll get horny again!”

“Mmm, didn’t know that’s a bad thing,” he takes a couple more across the room and you have to cling to him and force the needy whimper down your throat.

“The s-semen will le- oh! -ak and get all over the floor again!”

“Nuh, I am plugging your pussy up real good. And even if a couple of drops fall, I don’t mind a little mess.”

“You, dirty man-!”

“You married this dirty man,” he nods at the ring wrapped around the ring finger of the hand on his shoulder. “So, sorry, you are stuck with him.”

And as much as you want to hit him in the chest, you have no way to retort. The best thing you could think of and do is shutting him up with a kiss and letting him carry you to the bathroom as quick as possible.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His dick is not very long, around 6.5 inches, however it’s thick. Hangs heavily just like his sack and has numerous prominent veins running along the entire length.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s HIGH. He is touch starved (and once you started enabling his desire it only got worse), for the huge part of his day - WEEK - he is barricaded underwater in his Fortress, longing for you, yet understanding you have your own job and daily routine. No wonder every encounter you have is full of even the smallest forms of affection and your love-making is filled with passion.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It is not uncommon for him to come back to finishing some of his work. Not to leave you alone, he’ll bring the papers to bed, happily welcoming your arms wrapping around his thigh as you settle close to his sitting figure.

More often, however, he is quite easily convinced to lie down to cuddle and will fall asleep pretty quickly, especially if you run your fingers through his messy gray locks, massaging his scalp and kissing his forehead.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x fem!reader #genshin impact smut #moonlit pearl stories

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digdugg · 2 years

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While I do love that Kate Bush song, I just never really took Max for a pop music listener. I always thought of her as more of a rock and ska sorta fan.

#maybe a tiiny bit of pop but mainly rock esp surfer rock or w.e ?#ooc.

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yourstrulyrika · 3 months

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Leon’s tits appreciation fic ♡

no warnings as usual, just fem!reader. it’s really just Leon’s chest appreciation because damn.

also. a small rant at the bottom of the fic? just a disclaimer btw. it’s nothing triggering me thinks, it’s about Leon so that’s why i’m putting it here i still encourage you to read it.

also this one might be a bit messy i just started taking my new meds and my body is going crazy. i’m really sleepy & dizzy all the time so yeah. sorry if it’s a bit out of my usual style or something ♡

you love Leon’s chest. that much is obvious — because he loves yours too obviously. you two love each other, body, soul, heart and mind. this includes your and his chests. Leon loves sleeping on your chest, and you love sleeping on Leon’s chest, too. it’s common for you two.

but, you definitely love playing with Leon’s chest the most. it’s just so plush, feels so good to touch. Leon’s chest is his soft spot, to say the least. when you touched his chest for the first time, he arched his back so prettily, leaning his head back. his nipples harden under your touch, his body getting warmer and eager for more as his cock grows harder.

“Dear god,”

he sighs out when you touch his chest, and it only makes you grin in return. you rarely get him to such state. sure, he lets out a grunt or two, but this? and he actually blushes. just a tiiny bit, but it’s still a blush! so you decide to take it further, planting little kisses all over his chest, feeling his heart subtly flutter under your lips. Leon is only this vulnerable around you, no one ever sees this side of him — he feels safe around you. safe enough to let himself be the submissive one for once.

Leon is unable to take it anymore. he tugs at your pants, sliding them down along with your panties to expose your pretty pussy to his eager gaze. your cunt is glistening wet, making Leon drool at the sight. he places a subtle slap on your pussy, before repeating it, making you twitch your hips. his cock is hitting against your thigh, wanting to be buried in your warm insides.

“Getting this worked up over playing with my cheee—ngghmh!!” he lets out the hottest whimper one can think of. as he speaks, you decide to shush him, rather effectively. you wrap your lips around his nipple, gently tucking on it while flicking the other one. Leon is actually losing his mind, he’s leaking precum already.

“Fuck, baby, please just let me slide inside you,” he grunts out, guiding his cock to tap against your clit, begging for entry. he’s giving you the puppy eyes, the ones you can’t say no to. besides, with the way the tip of his cock is leaking so much just gets you so eager. once given the permission he almost jumps on you, but you keep him down by biting on his nipple, getting another, louder moan.

“Tease,” he pants out, breathing hitching and getting heavy. he closes his eyes, lips parting slightly, chest heaving up and down. you decide to do something— you push two fingers into his mouth, and he immediately laps at them, sucking them like it’s your pussy that he’s so starved off. he finally guides his cock into your insides, his length already twitching and throbbing as it sloppily moves in and out. he’s mumbling something incoherent to himself, babbling about it feeling so good. this, mixed with you constantly sucking his nipples, kneading his chest while also pushing your fingers into his mouth? it’s heaven. he’s in heaven.

it doesn’t take long for him to cum. in fact, just a few more minutes of you playing with his pretty nipples mixed with your cunt gripping him so well just drives him nuts, cumming inside you after a while. he obviously makes sure to make you cum too— before pushing you beneath him, now cupping your breasts

“My turn, huh? Your chest needs some loving, too.” he says this so confidently, already kneading at your chest.

rant time! sorry guys, today’s one is shorter bc i dont feel so well :( but anyway, here’s my little rant about tiktok and honestly most of the fandom.

i hate the fact that people oversexualize Leon so much. this, and also not understand his character — caring only about his looks. people hate vendetta leon but i literally love this man. he’s fucking beautiful. all the resident evil characters are so misunderstood, oversexualized and ignored. i just hate it, and yeah i know i know — it’s just fiction, sure, but i just don’t like it. i wish more people took Leon seriously because this man is literally so much of a sweetheart, meanwhile people just sexualize him 24/7 :( he’s so much more than his looks. he’s literally so sweet it hurts.

rant over, just wanted to get it off of my chest. i just love him so much and people reduce him to various sex related things. smut and all that is good obviously, i just dislike when people constantly make Leon a completely different character than he actually is. i love both smut and sfw things, but man. tiktok is so full of people misunderstanding Leon, it’s annoying. they reduce him to completely different man — and let’s not even talk about the 18+ audios that they’re posting…. i just.. idk.

anyway. love you all! thank you for reading <3

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

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Hey, um I love your works, especially the angsty-themed 😭. Anyway, here's the prompt :

We know that Law is a very private person, and he just doesn't want people to see any type of affection between him and the reader. So imagine like things get hectic, or like he's too focused on his long-term planning. He becomes cold and indifferent, and the reader is not an exception even if the reader is simply willing to help. Yes, he's a private person, but everyone already knows that the reader is his partner. His crew, or maybe the og member that is older than him, are getting uncomfortable and reminding (or rather scolding) him for his behaviour to the reader. Maybe the reader overheard their argument and gets sad because the reader has tried not to take his reaction personally, but it's not a good sign when others have enough. This ends with Law's realization that his crews support their relationship and wish the best for them, showing affection in front of them won't get him teased or even annoy his crew.

Thank you, Love 🫶

Hiya papaya!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get to this, but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: Law being a tiiny bit of a red flag, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hefty touch of angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"Is that for captain?"

Looking up from where you're setting things on the tray to carry, you find Penguin watching you and you nod.

"How is he? We haven't seen much of him lately."

You hesitate. Penguin knows Law even better than you do, as do Shachi and Bepo ㅡ they're from a chapter of his life you've only ever gotten brief comments about.

"You know how he gets when he's figuring out a plan," you sigh, and Penguin nods. "I'm going to take this to him."

"You're the best at cheering him up," your crewmate calls after you as you walk away, and your fingers curl around the tray.

You wish that was true, that you had an innate knack for easing Law's burdens the way the others seem to think you do. And maybe you did, at one time ㅡ but not lately.

You can't even tell anyone that it's been days since Law even talked to you. It's been a cycle of going to bed without him, waking up alone, and swapping out plates of barely touched food and drink for new.

You know that this is what happens when he gets focused on something, have seen it before ㅡ but it hurt a little less when you weren't his partner. You know you can't expect him to immediately tell you everything, but telling you nothing isn't fair, either.

You knock, then nudge the door open with your hip. Law hasn't moved from where he'd been when you woke up, nor does he look up when you approach.

"I made grilled salmon this time," you say quietly, glancing at the carefully shaped onigiri. "And tea."

Steam curls off the top, but Law doesn't so much as glance your way. This too has not been unusual, but again, it digs the blade further into your chest.

Have you done something wrong? Surely there's more to it than just being busy for him to shut you out so completely.

You turn to leave, stilling when there's finally, finally a murmur of your name from your boyfriend. Your heart leaps, and you turn, small smile on your lips. "Yes?"

He still isn't looking at you. "Stay in the crew bunkhouse tonight. I can't afford to be distracted right now."

Maybe it'd be better if he yelled at you. If he'd be angry with you, be something with you ㅡ because the flat tone and way he still won't actually look at you hurts far worse than anything else.

"Oh," you say softly, "...of course."

You shut the door behind you, back pressed against it as you take a few steadying breaths, willing yourself not to cry. You won't, not when it will get you scolded if he finds out ㅡ so you close your eyes and count to ten, then pull away from the door.

You can do this for him, give him his space, support him from the edges of that barrier he's made around himself.

You can, and you will.

ㅡ

"Not that we aren't happy to have you here [Name], but..." Clione squints at you. "What are you doing here?"

You look up from where you're pulling back the blankets of your bed ㅡ a bed you haven't slept in for months, as your mind is so gleefully cruel in reminding you. "What do you mean?"

"He means that you're usually with captain," Ikkaku says, watching you with a look of gentle concern.

You're not sure how to answer that and you fumble, fighting hard against the flush of your cheeks. "How do youㅡ"

"You're not as subtle as you think," Hakugan chimes in. "I know captain won't say it, but we've all pretty much figured it out already. Not much you can hide on the 'Tang."

He has a point. Ikkaku is still watching you, her head tilting.

"So...is everything okay?"

You blink, fingers curling against your blanket. "Everything is fine," you say, even though it's far from it. Though they may know about your relationship, you highly doubt that Law would be pleased if they knew about any issues. "I just felt like sleeping in here, that's all."

It's clear none of them believe you, sharing a brief look as you slip underneath your blanket and roll onto your side. It's strange now, going from the comfort of a bed shared with someone to alone ㅡ but if Law needs you to do this, you can do this.

You don't sleep well, not at all ㅡ and when you've finally had enough of tossing and turning, you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, mindful not to disturb your crewmates.

Machinery hums beneath your feet as you pad down the narrow hallway, turning the corner ㅡ and nearly bumping into a firm chest.

You stumble back, balance corrected by the hand that reaches out to grip your shoulder ㅡ familiar warmth, tanned fingers stamped by familiar tattoos.

Law.

It's the first time he's touched you in the better part of a week and a half, and you almost hate yourself for how badly you want to beg for more. He doesn't even have to kiss you ㅡ just a hug would do.

You miss him.

Law's lips part like he's going to say something, but the creak of a door opening makes him tense ㅡ and reality washes over you like an icy bucket of water.

So you do what you have to ㅡ you dhrug his hand off of your shoulder, curve your lips into a smile you don't feel, and take a step back.

"Good morning, captain," you tell him, ignore how it rips your chest open to be so formal with him and slip around him to begin your own day.

ㅡ

"Did something happen between you and [Name]?"

The question makes Law tense from where he's putting away medical supplies from the latest supply run, glancing at Shachi who'd volunteered to help him. That, he supposes, should have been his first clue. Not that Shachi isn't helpful ㅡ but that he has an agenda of his own.

Law looks away. "I don't know what you mean."

Shachi huffs. "Don't play dumb, captain." He knows he's treading the line of insubordination, but there's only so much he and the others can take of this. "We know you're together."

Law stills.

"[Name] didn't tell us anything," Shachi continues. "We figured it out. So don't be mad at them."

Law is quiet, trying to process the other man's words before he says slowly, "How long have you and the others known?"

Shachi shrugs. "Couple of months." His tone softens, though it still carries an edge of scolding. "You can't just shut everyone out like that, captain. Especially not if you're in a relationship with someone."

Law wants to argue, say that he didn't ㅡ but he did. Pushed you as far as he could, made you keep your distance. He'd backtracked on months of progress, of affection and trust ㅡ and called you distracting.

Ans you'd taken it all in stride. You hadn't gotten angry, hadn't fought with him ㅡ simply nodded, smiled, and let him treat you as he pleased.

You'd let him hurt you, something he'd promised he'd never do ㅡ

"Finish putting this away for me," he tells Shachi, who watches as Law leaves the storage room without looking back, and he grins.

"About time."

ㅡ

You stir to the feeling of being carried. That's funny, you don't even remember falling asleep ㅡ but you must've, curled up on the couch with a book.

You squirm, and the arms around you tighten as your eyelids flutter. "Waking up?"

Your eyes snap open. "Law," you say, staring up at your boyfriend ㅡ or at least, who you hope is still your boyfriend. "What are you doing?"

"You fell asleep on the couch," he says, "and I'm taking you to bed before you end up with a crick in your neck from sleeping like that."

"Oh." You study the curve of black ink on his chest. "To the bunkhouse?"

"No, to myㅡ" He stops, corrects himself. "Our room."

That gives you a glimmer of hope, allows for you to snuggle further against him, which relieves him in turn. You aren't angry with him ㅡ both a blessing and a little bit of a curse, brcause you have every right to be.

As if sensing his thoughts, you sigh softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be." He nudges his door open, shuts it behind him before continuing towards the bed. The bed that's been far too cold over the last couple of days without your presence.

You cling to him, even after he sets you down, coaxing him to lay next to you. "I'm not," you insist again. "Just wish you'd trust me a little more. I want to help, Law."

Your fingers brush his cheek, and he reaches to grasp them, presses soft kisses to your fingertips. "I know. I need to work on that. I shouldn't have shut you out like that, it wasn't fair to you."

You press closer. "We can work on it together," you say, lips against his collarbone, sweet kisses that make him shiver. "Right?"

"Right," he agrees softly, pulls you to him as close as he can, wraps himself around you. "Together."

#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #anonymous #–ml: law.

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bonzeez · 4 months

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Raauuugh

I got a tiiny bit bored so I just

Yeah

This OC is by @zzdoritozz !

#cuphead #cddwtd #cuphead au #cuphead oc #not my oc #mugman #crackhead is silly silly rrrrr #my art #screenshot edit #bonzeezartwork

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yumethefrostypanda · 1 year

Text

Focus

The focus, his eyess, that movement/shoulder roll/in-exhale :3 If it went bad for Soap when he arrived (during that mission) i'm hella sure Ghost won't miss -shooting the guards. You(orjustme) can see he is worried for Soap since Johnny is risking his life entering the lion's den. Tweaked his eyes just a tiiny bit :3

#yes lay down gently #yume shut up #simon ghost riley #simon riley #lieutenant #ghost #call of duty #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #mwii #my ingame shots

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fourthwingfan · 2 months

Text

Madness - Chapter 5

Hello there readers. This is the new chapter, I hope you'll like it. It's a tiiny bit long though. I warned you.

Note: Violence, blood, injuries etc.

Ps: I won't be coming with a new chapter for a while because my best friend has a bachelorette party tomorrow, but I start writing the new chapter at Monday. Thanks for your patience.

Knowing I am in direct disagreement with General Melgren’s orders, I am officially objecting to the plan set forth in today’s briefing. It is not this general’s opinion that the children of the rebellion’s leaders should be forced to witness their parents’ executions. No child should watch their parent put to death.

– The Tyrrish Rebellion, an official brief for King Tauri by General Sorrengail

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief” Professor Devera says from the recessed floor of the enermous lecture hall later in the morning, a bright purple Flame Section patch on her shoulder matching her short hair perfectly. This is the only class held in the circular, tiered room that curves the entire end of the academic hall and one of only two rooms in the citadel capable of fitting every cadet. Every creaky wooden seat is full, and the senior third-years are standing against the walls behind us, but we all fit.

It’s a far cry from history last hour, where there were only three squads of first-years, but at least the first-years in our squad are all seated together. Now if I could only remember all their names.

Liam is easy to remember – he was the first who talked to me after Parapet. Somehow we became friends. But if I want to be honest, I don’t mind. He’s really kind and somehow I feel that I can trust him. It’s strange. My father always told me not to trust anyone. And despite my hatred for him, this sentence become one of the pillars which hold my life.

“In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation” Professor Devera continues her mouth tensing as she paces slowly in front of a twenty-foot-high map of the Continent mounted to the back wall that’s intricately labeled with our defensive outposts along our borders. Dozens of mage lights illuminate the space, more than making up for the lack of windows and reflecting off the longsword she keeps strapped to her back.

“And if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings, but we expect you to graduate with the full knowledge of what we’re up against. It’s not about just knowing where every wing is stationed, either.” She takes her time, making eye contact with every first-year she sees. The rank on her shoulder says captain, but I know she’ll be a major before she leaves her rotation teaching here, given the medals pinned on her chest. “You need to understand the politics of our enemies, the strategies of defending our outposts from constant attack, and have a thorough knowledge of both recent and current battles. If you cannot grasp these basic topics, then you have no business on the back of a dragon.” She arches a black brow a few shades darker than her deep-brown skin.

“No pressure” I mutter laughingly to Liam.

“The most powerful general in Navarre is your father. I think you can manage this class somehow.” He snorts.

“Hey. I’m not a genious, you know.” I whisper.

“And even humble.” He openly laughs at me. “You know all the answers in history. But I don’t think it counts if you only told me and not the teacher when he asked questions.”

“I don’t care what they think of me.” I say in a serious tone.

“This is the only class you will have every day, because it’s the only class that will matter if you’re called into service early.” Professor Devera’s gaze sweeps from left to the right and pauses on me. Her eyes flare wide for a heartbeat, but she gives an approving smile and nod before she do the same with Violet. “Because this class is taught every day and relies on the most current information, you will also answer to Professor Markham, who deserves nothing but your utmost respect.”

She waves the scribe forward, and he moves to stand next to her, the cream color of his uniform contrasting with her stark black one. He leans in when she whispers something to him, and his thick eyebrows fly high as he whips his head in my direction then he looks at Violet.

“Shit.” I mutter as I slide lower on the chair. “Why can’t I be invisible?

“You’re stand out a little bit to that.” Liam answer helpfully. “Maybe if you didn’t dye your hair, you didn’t stand out as much. I mean those silver stripes are a little bit flashy.”

“I didn’t dye my hair. It’s been like this since I was born” I answer while staring straight ahead of me. I don’t like to talk about my mother. I didn’t know her but it’s still painful beacuse of the many what ifs. What if I knew her? Would she loved me? If she were alive would I have a normal family? It’s painful.

“Oh, I see.” And he didn’t push the subject any further as if he sensed that I’m not comfortable with it.

“It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to relay and record the present” Professor Markham says, rubbing the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Without accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to make strategic decisions, and - most importantly - veracious details to document our history for the good of future generations, we’re doomed, not only as a kingdom but as a society.”

“First topic of the day,” Professor Devera moves toward the map and flicks her hand, bringing a mage light directly over the eastern border with the Poromiel province of Braevick. “The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders.”

Oh shit. A murmur rips through the hall.

“Naturally, some information is redacted for security purposes, but what we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben Mountains.” Professor Devera pulls her hands apart and the light expands, illuminating the mountains that form our border with Braevick. “Allowing the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel and wield sometime around midnight.”

My stomach sinks as a murmur rises from the cadets, especially the first-years. Dragons aren’t the only animals capable of channeling powers to their riders. Gryphons from Poromiel also share that ability, but dragons are the only ones capable of powering the wards that make all other magic but their own impossible within our borders. They’re the reason Navarre’s borders are somewhat circular - their power radiates from the Vale and can only extend so far, even with squads stationed at every outpost. Without those wards, we’re fucked. It would be open season on Navarrian villages when the raiding parties from Poromiel inevitably descend. Those greedy assholes are never content with the resources they have. They always want ours, too, and until they learn to be content with our trade agreements, we have no chance of ending conscription in Navarre. No chance of experiencing peace.

But if we’re not on high alert, then they must have gotten the wards rewoven, or at least stabilized.

“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before the squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons managed to repel the drift.” Professor Devera finishes, folding her arms over her chest. “Based on that information, what questions would you ask?” She holds up a finger. “ I only want answers from first-years to start.”

My initial question would be why the hell the wards faltered, but it’s not like they’re going to answer a question like that in a room full of cadets with zero security clearance.

I study the map. The Esben Mountain Range is the highest along our eastern border with Braevick, making it the least likely place for an attack, especially since gryphons don’t tolerate altitude nearly as well as dragons, probably due to the fact they’re half-lion, half-eagle and can’t handle the thinner air at higher altitudes.

There’s a reason we’ve been able to fend off every major assault on our territory for the last six hundred years, and we’ve successfully defended our land in this never-ending four-hundred-year-long war. Our abilities, both lesser and signet, are superior because our dragons can channel more power than gryphons. So why attack in the mountain range?

“The only logical explanation is that they were looking for something.” I mutter to Liam.

“Are you not going to speak up in this class either?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Come on, first-years, show me you have more than just good balance. Show me you have the critical-thinking skills to be here.” Professor Devera demands. “It’s more important than ever that you’re ready for what’s beyond our borders.”

“Is this the first time the wards have faltered?” a first-year a couple of rows ahead asks.

Professors Devera and Markham share a look before she turns toward the cadet. “No.”

The room falls pin-drop quiet.

It’s not the first time.

Which means they were looking for something for a while? Interesting.

The girl clears her throat. “And how… often are they faltering?”

Professor Markham’s shrewd eyes narrow on her. “That’s above your pay grade, cadet.” He turns his attention to our section. “Next relevant question to the attack we’re discussing?”

“How many casualties did the wing suffer?” A first-year down the row to my right asks.

“One injured dragon. One dead rider.”

Another murmur rises from the hall. Surviving graduation doesn’t mean we’ll survive service. Most riders die before retirement age, especially at the rate riders have been falling over the last two years.

“Why would you ask that particular question?” Professor Devera asks the cadet.

“To know how many reinforcements they’ll need” he answers.

Professor Devera nods, turning toward the meekest first-year in Violet’s squad, who has his hand up, but he lowers it quickly, scrunching his dark eyebrows. “Did you want to ask a question?”

“Yes.” He nods, sending a few locks of black hair into his eyes, then shakes his head. “No. Never mind.”

“So decisive” another first-year in that squad mocks from next to him, tilting her head as cadets laugh around them. A corner of her mouth tilts up into a smirk, and she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder in a move that’s anything but casual.

“He’s in our squad. Show some loyalty.” A third woman chastises.

“What a friendly squad. They like a big family.” I whisper to Liam.

“You’re not friendlier then them, you know.” He smirks at me.

“Maybe.” I cross my arms and turn my attention back to the class.

“If Fourth Wing is done picking at one another?” Professor Devera asks, lifting a brow.

“What altitude is the village at?” Rhiannon asks. I’m sure it was Violet’s question. She doesn’t like the attention.

Professor Devera’s eyebrows rise as she turns to Rhiannon. “Markham?”

“A little less than ten thousand feet.” he answers. “Why?”

Rhiannon darts a dose of side-eye at Violet and clears her throat. “Just seems a little high for a planned attack with gryphons.”

“It is a little high for a planned attack” Devera says. “Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail? And maybe you’d like to ask your own questions from here on out.” She levels a stare on her

Every head in the room turns to her direction. If anyone had an inkling of doubt about who is she, it’s long gone now.

Poor Violet.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to channel” She says. “ It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew the wards would fail, especially since the village looks to be about what…an hour’s flight from the nearest outpost?” She glances at the map. “That is Chakir right there isn’t it?”

Scribe’s training for the win.

“It is.” A corner of Professor Devera’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Keep going with that line of thought.”

“Didn’t you say it took an hour for the squad of riders to arrive?” Her gaze narrows.

“I did.”

“Then they were already on their way,” she blurts, immediately recognizing how silly that sounds. Her cheeks heat as a mumble of laughter sounds around her.

“Yeah, because that makes sense.” Jack turns around in his seat from the front row and openly laught at her. “General Melgren knows the outcome of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn’t now when it will happen, dumbass.”

I feel the chuckling of our classmates reverberate in my bones. I can feel my rage rising.

“Fuck off, Barlowe,” Rhiannon snaps.

“I’m not the one who thinks precognition is a thing,” he retorts with a sneer. “Gods help us if that one ever gets on the back of a dragon.” Another round of laughter has her face flaming more.

Enough!

“You’re so familiar with General Melgren that you know exactly what he’s able to do with his signet Barlowe?” I glare at him. “With you’re level of brain, be thankful if a dragon will choose you at Threshing, if you can make it there. It’s way above your skills to get to know the General.”

“Pff, the same goes for you girl.” Someone shouts behind me.

I glance behind me to look at that stupid man who said that. I found him. He wears a first-year emblem on his jacket, and looks like he’s in Violet’s squad.

“He’s my father, you jackass.” I glare at him.

“He doesn’t have a daughter, you liar.” He retorts.

That’s it. He’s even dumber than I thought. It’s a shame to argue with him.

“And they try to become riders. Without the knowledge what’s going around them. I pray that at least a handful of cadets be smarter than them or Navarre is lost.” I sigh in mock sympathy while I turn back. “Maybe General Melgren’s signet isn’t able to identify the when, but if you can’t understand what Cadet Sorrengail implies, then you won’t make it Threshing. I gurantee that.” I smile at Jack while my implied threat still in the air.

“That’s enough. You should know that listening to other cadet’s questions is just as important as asking.” Professor Devera says to Jack. “And Cadet Melgren you should work out that temper in the gym.”

“Oh I can’t wait the challenges Professor.” I answer while glaring daggers at Jack.

“Why do you think that way, Violet -“ Professor Markham winces. “Cadet Sorrengail?”

Nice distraction.

“Because there’s no logical way they get there within an hour of the attack unless they were already on their way” Go, Violet tell them. “It would take at least half that long to light the beacons in the range and call for help, and no full squad is sitting around just waiting to be needed. More than half those riders would have been asleep, which means they were already on their way.”

“And why would they already be on their way?” Professor Devera prods, and the light in her eyes tells me she’s right.

“Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking.” She lifts her chin

“That’s the most-“ Jack starts.

“She’s right” Professor Devera interrupts, and a hush falls over the room. “One of the dragons in the wing sensed the faltering ward, and the wing flew. Had they not, the casualties would have been far higher and the destruction of the village much worse.”

I snicker at Jack who looks completly baffled.

“Second- and third-years, take over” Professor Devera orders. “Let’s see if you can be a little more respectful to your fellow cadets.” She arches a brow at Jack as questions begin to fire off from the riders behind us.

How many riders were deployed to the site?

What killed the lone fatality?

How long did it take to clear the village of the gryphons?

Were any left alive for questioning?

I write down the important questions and answers, my mind memorizing the facts, organizing into logical sequences.

“How can you make notes when you don’t even look at the paper in front of you?” Liam wonders

“Years of practice.” I cut it short.

“What was the condition of the village?” A deep voice asks from the back of the lecture hall.

The hairs on my neck rise, my body recognizing the imminent threat behind me.

“Riorson?” Markham asks, shielding his eyes from the mage lights as he looks toward the top of the hall.

“The village.” Xaden restates. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

Professor Devera smiles in approval. “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

“They were looking for something,” Xaden says with complete conviction. “And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”

„Wow. You said that they were searching for something too.” Liam stares at me with surprise.

„Yeah, so? It was obvious.” I blink at him.

„No. It was not. You really have a sense for it, haven’t you?” he whispers.

I just shrug, then turn back my attention to the class.

“Exactly. That’s the question.” Professor Devera glances around the room. “And that right there is why Riorson is a wingleader. You need more than strength and courage to be a good rider.”

“So what’s the answer?” a first-year to the left asks.

“We don’t know,” Professor Devera answers with a shrug. “It’s just another piece in the puzzle of why our constant bids for peace are rejected by the kingdom of Poromiel. What were they looking for? Why that village? Were they responsible for the collapse of the ward, or was it already faltering? Tomorrow, next week, next month, there will be another attack, and maybe we’ll get another clue. Go to history if you’re looking for answers. Those wars have already been dissected and examined. Battle Brief is for fluid situations. In this class, we want you to learn which questions to ask so all of you have a chance at coming home alive.” Something in her tone tells me it’s not just third-years who might be called into service this year.

After class the cadets started to flow out from the lecture hall. I packed up my things and when I turned to Liam, Professor Devera said my name.

„Cadet Melgren. For a word.”

„I think you’re in trouble.” Whispres Liam. „I’ll wait for you outside.”

I nod then turn toward the Professor.

„Yes?” I ask.

„General Melgren sent a message that he wants to speak to you after today’s classes are over.” She answers

„Understood. Where?” I ask tensly.

„In his office.”

„Then if there is nothing else, I would like to go. I have gym.”

„Yes, go ahead.” She dismisses me.

Outside of the hall I see Liam talking with Xaden at the corner of the courtyard.

That’s my luck. I have one somewhat of a friend and he’s just coincidentally a big buddy of Xaden it seems.

They must realised that I finished talking with Professor Devera beacuse they make their way to where I stand.

„Is everything all right?” Liam asks worriedly when they aprroached me.

„Yeah, she just wanted to pass on a message.” I shrug.

„A message? From who?” Xaden asks suspiciously.

„It’s not your business Riorson, but is seems that General Melgren wants to see me after classes are over.” I say with a forced smile.

„General Melgren?” He raise an eyebrow.

„You’ve got a problem with that?” I narrow my eyes at him.

„No, it’s just interesting.” He says. „But I think you don’t have time to chat with me. If I remember correctly you have gym class soon, and Professor Emetterio doesn’t like latecomers.”

„Shit. Then we should go Liam. I really don’t want to be late because of Riorson.” I fake a horrified expresson.

„Ah, and I thought we could converse once without your insults.” He smirks.

„In your dream Riorson. If you don’t like my style then you would be doing a favor for the both of us if you would avoid me in the future.” I say while grabbing Liam’s arm and start pulling him in the direction where the gym class will be.

„Then we will definitely see each other later.” He stares at me with an unreadable expression. „I almost forget. Have fun in the gym, Sunshine.” I hear him laughing.

When I try to turn around, this time Liam grabs my arm and pulles away faster.

„We need to hurry if we don’t want to end up late.” He drags me with him.

---

„You seriosuly knew every answer in histroy and apparently every right question to ask in Battle Brief.” I hear Rhiannon says it to Violet. Coincidentally their squad are standing behind our sparring mat. „You’re not even going to have to study for tests, are you?”

There are already two first-years on the mat from our squad. They’re evenly matched in size. One of them is Ethan whom I have seen talking to Liam. He has a rebellion relic too. I don’t remember his opponent’s name but I’m sure he’s a little less irritating than the others in our squad.

„You seem pretty calm. Are you not worried about who your opponent will be?” Liam watches me with interest shining in his eyes.

„No. I’m sure that I can beat most first-years. Quite a few have developed muscles if you look them closely. You’re one of them so I’m curious how well you can fight.” I look over him.

„Maybe we will be paired up.” He winks at me.

„Yeah. Who knows?” I shrug, and the vest Mira made us shimmers slightly with the movement. Other than the times the scales catch the light under the camouflaging mesh, it fits right in with the tops we’d been given from central issue yesterday. All the women are dressed similarly now, though the cuts of their leathers are chosen by preference.

The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto. Personally, I’m not arguing with their logic, just enjoying the view…respectfully, of course, which means keeping my eyes on my own squad’s mat and off the other twenty mats in the massive gym that consumes the first floor of the academic wing. One wall is made entirely of windows and doors, all left open to let in the breeze, but it’s still stiflingly hot. Sweat trickles down my spine under my vest.

There are three squads from each wing here this afternoon, and lucky me, First Wing has sent their third squads, which include Jack Barlowe, who’s been glaring at me from two mats over since I walked in.

„Stop circling each other like you’re dance partners and attack!” Professor Emetterio orders from across the mat, where Theo watches Ethan and the other guy’s match – maybe his name is Lucas? Or Luke? Something like that – with our squad executive leader, Zanaya.

Ethan launches toward Lucas – I think I will go with this name until someone tells me his name – but he ducks, sweeping out his leg and tripping Ethan. He staggers but doesn’t go down. He pivots quickly, palming a dagger in his hand.

„No blade today!” Professor Emetterio bellows from beside the mat. He’s only the fourth professor I’ve met, but he’s definitely the most intimidating. „We’re just assessing!”

Ethan grumbles and sheaths his knife just in time to deflect a right hook from Lucas.

„What about you? You don’t seem worried either.” I ask Liam as Ethan lands a jab to Lucas’s ribs.

„Shit!” He shakes his head and backs up a step. „I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lucas holds his ribs but lifts his chin. „Who said you hurt me?”

„Pulling your punches does him a disservice” Theo says, folding his arms. „The Cygnis on the northeast border aren’t going to give him any quarter if he falls from his dragon behind enemy lines, Ethan. They’ll kill him just the same.”

„Let’s go!” Lucas shouts, beckoning Ethan by curling his fingers. It’s obvious he had a proper trainig before entering the quadrant, when he slips a jab from Ethan and twists to land a quick jab to his stomach.

Ouch.

„I’m pretty good on the mat. My foster brother whom I grew up with taught me many things.” He answers while watching the match.

„You have a brother? I didn’t know.” I look at him.

„He’s not my brother by blood, we grew up together after the apostasy and that made us close friends. That’s why I said he’s my brother.” He shrugs. „Now watch the match.”

Apostasy is the Tyrrish term for rebellion. I rarely heard it mentioned this way.

That’s when Ethan charges Lucas taking him to the mat with enough force to make me observe him more. He’s surprisingly strong for his light build.

Lucas hooks his legs around Ethan and somehow leverages him over until he’s the one on top, landing punch after punch to the side of his face. Blood spatters the mat.

A tooth goes flying. Ouch.

„Enough!” Professor Emetterio shouts.

Lucas rolls off Ethan and stands, touching his fingers to his split lip and examining the blood, then offers his hand to help Ethan up.

He takes it.

„Zanaya, take Lucas to the healers. No reason to lose a tooth during assessment” Emetterio orders.

A couple of mats over, someone shrieks, and we all turn to look. Jack Barlowe has another first-year in a headlock. The other guy is smaller, thinner than Jack, but still has a good fifty pounds on me.

Jack yanks his arms, his hands still secure around the other man’s head.

„That guy is such an ass-„ Rhiannon starts behind us.

The sickening crack of bones breaking sounds across the gym, and the first-year goes limp in Jack’s hold.

“Sweet Malek,” I whisper as Jack drops the man to the ground. I’m starting to wonder if the god of death lives here for how often his name must be invoked.

“What did I say?” their instructor shouts as he charges onto the mat. “You broke his damned neck!”

“How was I supposed to know his neck was that weak?” Jack argues.

“Eyes forward,” Emetterio orders, but his tone is kinder than it has been as we all look away from the dead first-year. “You don’t have to get used to it,” he tells us. “But you do have to function through it. You and you.” He points to Liam and another first-year in our squad, a man with a stocky build, black hair, and angular features. Shit, I can’t remember his name. Trevor? Thomas, maybe? There are too many new people to remember who is who at this point.

Liam makes quick work of the first-year, stunning me every time he dodges a punch and lands one of his own. He’s fast, and his hits are powerful, the kind of lethal combination that will set him apart.

„Do you yield?” he asks the first-year guy when he takes him to his back, his hand stopped mid-hit just above his throat.

“No!” he shouts, hooking his legs around Liam’s and slamming him to his back. But he rolls and quickly gains his feet before putting the first-year in the same position again, this time with his boot to his neck.

“I don’t know, Thomas, you might want to yield,” Theo says with a grin. “He’s handing you your ass.”

Ah, that’s right. Thomas.

“Fuck off!” Thomas snaps, but Liam presses his boot into his throat, garbling the last word. He turns a mottled shade of red.

Yeah, Thomas has more ego than common sense.

“He yields,” Emetterio calls out, and Liam steps back, offering his hand.

Thomas takes it.

„You-” Emetterio points to one of the second-years with a rebellion relic. „And you.” His fingers swings to me.

He’s at least a head taller than me, and if the rest of his body is as toned as his arms, then I can’t let him to touch me. I need to be faster.

I nod and step onto the mat.

„You’ve got this.” Liam says, tapping my shoulder as he passes me.

„Melgren.” The man looks me over like I’m something he’s scraped off the side of his boot, narrowing his pale green eyes. „You really should dye your hair if you don’t want to stand out like this. Soon, everybody will know who is your father.”

„Never said I cared if everyone knows who my father is.” I circle the second-year on he mat.

I say while trying to distract him. General Melgren often says the minutes you let emotion enter a fight, you’ve already lost.

„You bitch” he sheethes. „Your father murdered my family.”

He lunges forward and swings wildly, and I quickly sidestep, spinning then landing a hard punch where his kidneys are located.

He grunts then turns around and we start it again. We do this for a few more rounds, and I land a few punches here and there. Always moving faster than him.

After another punch he stumbles and I kick his leg out from under him and I pin his legs down so he can’t move. That’s it when he manages to land a punch.

I can feel my head snapping to the side, my ears ringing, but I don’t move. I’ve endured worse. If I move now then he can use his legs and I will be in trouble.

I punch him in the face. When he raises his hands to protect it, he leaves defensless his neck. I hit the side of his neck causing him to be momentarily unable to breathe and he puts his hand to his neck, then I punch him in his face, and I can feel the bones breaking. I broke his nose. I hit again.

He starts coughing while his blood is dripping from his nose. He can’t do anything in this condition.

„He yields.” Emetterio calls out, and I back off from him. „Hey you” he points to another second-year „Escort him to the healers. We don’t need him bleeding all over the mat.”

I step next to Liam and a new match starts.

„Gods, Aelin. You were really scary on the mat.” Liam says looking at me. „And your face, are you all right? Want me to accompany you to the healers?”

„I won’t go the healers, Liam. I’m fine.” I look at him confused.

„What? No way. You’re bruse is already turning black. That must have hurt.” He looks at my face with concern.

„A little bit. It’s not that bad, really. I have much worse bruises when I started to train.” I try to calm him.

His eyes widen and opens his mouth to further question me when…

„Yield, Violet!” I hear Dain yells.

What? Violet? I turn around quickly and I see Violet and a pink-haired second-year on the mat. With a rebellion relic. Shit.

„She yields.” their instructor says. „That’s enough.” I hear it again – the macabre sound of snapping bone – but this time it’s hers.

#fanfiction #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc

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