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codmw2019-2022 · 8 months

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Modern Warfare Character Ages [2019 + 22]

Preface: Just wanted to add before getting into this that this is my interpretation of the character ages based on information from the games, confirmed information, research into the military/CIA and collage/university course information. This is by no means meant to be a definite statement about character ages, I'm happy to discuss or change any of the information here within reason.

I would also like to credit @sleepyconfusedpotato and @oleworldblues posts with their own opinions on the character ages. Which helped base my own thoughts and provided some good information that they had found. You can find Sleepy's post here and Blue's here they are really good posts and they both explain their own reasons for how they perceive the main cast of modern warfare's ages.

Farah & Hadir Karim : 30 & 32 [2022]

Both Farah and Hadir's ages have been confirmed by Taylor Kurosaki who is one of the writers from Modern Warfare 2019. This was confirmed when a fan ask him via twitter/X about how old Farah was during the Barkov invasion.

This means in 1999 when Barkov invaded Farah was 7 and Hadir was 9. In 2009 when they escaped they are 17 and 19 respectively and in 2019 they are 27 and 29. Hadir dies in December of 2022 as discovered in the Atomgrad raids at the age of 32.

John Price : 37 [2022]

Using the information provided from his original operator bio we find that "John Price joined the infantry at the age of sixteen and has served the British Army for 18 years." and that "he was ‘Badged’ a member of SAS in 2005, spending the next ten years in the Middle East, the horn of Africa.".

With this Price's age works out to be about 34 years old, but since it only mentions serving the British army. I added 4 years for him to be able to complete basic training which is roughly 18 weeks basic training.* Followed by Special Air Service (SAS) training with is roughly a couple months, but you must serve at least 18 months in the military to be selected**, and finally his training at the Royal Military Academy to become a Lieutenant and then Captain which is 44 weeks with 2-3 weeks of leave.***

So Price would join the British army at 16 in 2001, be badged a member of SAS at 20 in 2005, become Captain at 25 in 2010. In 2019 he would be 34 and finally 37 in 2022, which to me makes the most sense based on other character's ages.

*[army.mod.uk solider training] **[eliteukforces.info SAS] [eliteukforces.info SBS&SAS] ***[army.mod.uk officer training]

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick : 32 [2022]

We can do the same process as we did with Price for Gaz, his operator bio says "Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, enlisted in the British Army in 2008. Within four years, he passed selection for Her Majesty’s elite Special Air Service where he is currently rounding out a decade of service."

Since his bio never mentions what age he joins like with Price and Soap I'm going to assume he finished school and joined the military at 18. So Gaz is 18 in 2008, 29 in 2019 when he meets Price for the first time and 32 in 2022. I am not taking into consideration the archived Activision blog posts, which say he joined in 2014 because of them being archived. I do use it for some other characters but for Gaz it changed the date he joined not just giving extra information.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish : 26 [2022]

You can blame Activision for why Soap is so young compared to the others. So according to his updated operator bio, "Soap has spent the last seven years carrying out both covert and overt operations around the world." this with the contents of his old operator bio before MW3 "At 16, too young to sign up, but lying about his age, MacTavish enrolled in the Special Air Service…"

Means that Soap would be 23 in 2022, which doesn't make the most sense especially considering he is a Sergeant in 2019 meaning he would be 20 in the MW3 flashback. So I gave him the same treatment as Price and added 3 years, to make up for basic and SAS training. So he would be 16 in 2012 joining the British Army have to wait 18 months to apply for SAS, be roughly 18 when he starts SAS training and finish it at 19 in 2015.*

So making him now 23 in 2019, 26 in 2022 but since he lied about his age TF 141 would think he's 28 during MW2 or 25 during 2019.

*[jobs.army.mod.uk SAS reserve]

Alex Keller : 35 [2022]

Alex is one of the last characters who have dates or years of service in their information. From his Campaign Biography it says he was a part of, "CIA's Special Activities Division," and also has surrendered "his former rank and history of special ops military service with Army Delta, Alex sacrificed traditional contact and association with family to join the SAD. He has spent the last six years living a series of assumed identities to achieve “sensitive” objectives wherever he is needed."

There's also, "Through 2017, Alex’s units played a key role in ensuring definitive victories against emerging terrorist networks." So we know Alex has been working in the military before 2017, now most SAD members are former Delta operators. There's also some reports of SAD members having Master's and law degrees.* So with that we can add roughly 6 years to his age to complete a master's degree in law.**

Now Delta force has some requirements like being over 21 to join and having two and a half years of service remaining, so if Alex joined the US military at 18 after finishing High School and getting his diploma.*** In a couple years he could join Delta Force, so by 26 he would be able to be apart of CIA's SAD. (If studying part time while in Delta Force) Then adding the another six years which is when he is apart of SAD, which is mention in his biography as the last six years. The bio is published late 2019 so Alex would be 32 years old.

So Alex would join the Military at 18 in 2005, would be 32 in 2019 when he loses the lower half of one of his legs and 35 in 2022.

*[CIA SAD] **[coursera.org law school] ***[Delta Force] [US Military Requirements]

Now for the Characters with little infomation

Alejandro & Rodolfo : both 37

We find out they've known each other for 20 years and signed up together. So they are both younger than 38 but older than 30 since Alejandro is a Colonel. Looking at Wikipedia you can/have to join 18 the Mexican military for at least 3 years, this gives them about maybe two years to get to know each other before joining together.

Ghost : 35 [2022]

Honestly just pick an age between Price and Gaz, I personally like the idea of him being the same age as Alex and having them know each other previously. Maybe even before Ghost starts wearing the skull mask.

Laswell & Nikolai : 52 & 45 [2022]

No older that 52 and 45 if we go based on their actors ages, which personally makes the most sense to me. Laswell's Campaign biography mentions her supervising a SAD program in 2008, and her having studied a Master's degree in strategic intelligence analysis and having a BA in International Affairs. This doesn't help much though with figuring out her age.

AN: Hopefully this very long post is some what helpful or at least has some good resources that people can check out, especially fanfic writers or people making their own OCs.

I'm also going to repeat what I put at the top the end here. But what I've written down is not a definitive answer for their ages (minus Farah & Hadir) it's just what I personally think makes the most sense.

Don't let my own opinions/conclusions about their ages get in the way of you having fun with how you view/interpret these characters.

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youcalledmebabe · 5 months

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my favorite bits of web lore from parachute infantry:

he was a new deal democrat and voted for the first time during the war. “I had to walk almost 2 miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked 10, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest president we had ever had, and the only one who ever gave the working man a break.”

he describes Doc Roe as having “a warm, brave heart.” has anybody ever considered webroe…? there’s about as much basis for it as webgott, historically speaking 💀

he seemed to have lone wolf tendencies. “Actually, I was quite happy to be on my own. Looking out for myself was something I always liked to do. It was the one thing I could do better than anybody else.”

he was sooo dramatic. “I should have known better than to dream, for whatever dreams I might have had all ended when I was sixteen, and had run away to Gloucester to ship out on a fishing schooner. The schooners were diesel hulks, so I went back to school. That was the way my dreams always ended. The army was no different.”

noted fan of springtime. “It’s going to be an early spring, I thought, feeling a great relief. Maybe things will be better now; they are always better in the spring.”

believed in/was spooked by the stories of a ghost horse cart following them around the front. “It must be the ghost that’s followed us through Europe, I thought with a shiver, for the sound did not seem wholly real—who would have the nerve to walk a horse drawn wagon along the front in a city under such heavy artillery fire? …Some of the men used to speculate about it. They thought that it was the ghost of a supply cart that had gotten a direct hit, and that the driver was homesick for his old outfit. So every night he’d come back and visit his buddies on the line.” apparently Nixon also believed this… where my ghost story fics at?

allergic to change: “The essence of life is change, not stability, but I can’t get used to it; I want everything to stay the way it is.”

thinks the reason lieb is the way he is is because “he was from the far west.” he and joe actually have very little interaction at all and he doesn’t have much to say about him. Tom Hanks rpf is fine strikes again

was drunk on iced tea and gin all the time at the end of the war

gets so mad about doing a final parade when his points came through that he “was in a mood to bayonet babies and roast both colonels over small fires.” immediately after that says what he “planned for peacock was unprintable.” this is the final time peacock is mentioned… guess they never made up

he really hated the army and the Nazis in a way that I feel like the show dropped by the final episode. like I think the real web would’ve shot the guy on the mountain. but that’s a discussion I’d like to have later

anyway he was smart and funny and a good writer and so full of life and i’m very sad about what happened to him

#band of brothers #david webster

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Pure. (Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), blood, wounds (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): You’re new to sex and John figures that out pretty quickly.

This was a request, you can find the ask here.

You aren't sure how you managed to get yourself into the position you're in now. It started off amazing. You got along well with everyone on base, all of your missions were a success and not many issues had happened since being on base with taskforce 141. Everything seemed to go so well and it was amazing. Until of course, it wasn't.

You noticed the feelings you shared for everyone seemed to be the same unless it came to Captain Price. You laughed and joked with everyone else, but when it came to conversating with him, you almost always shied away from him, bright red cheeks and you always tried to distance yourself from him as fast as possible to avoid incriminating yourself anymore than you thought you already had.

John took a liking to you right away. You were sweet and did just about anything he'd ask you to do. He adored that you seemed so submissive, so caring. You always checked up on everyone. If someone seemed like they were having an off day, you were always the first to ask them how they were doing, trying to cheer them up anyway you could, and he loved that about you. John might've stared a little too much. Might've spent too much time thinking about you, analyzing you. Figuring out your each move.

It didn't take John long to realize you acted the way you did because you were innocent. You know a lot about how fucked up the world could be but didn't have much exposure to it on your end. You only had one childhood boyfriend that you dated for around 6 weeks, and only seen him during school. You were still innocent and John admired that about you. But knew it would never last with the military. You would be broken down and worn out like the rest of them, thinking that about you broke John's heart a little. John took a liking to you right away and sometimes he flirted a little more than he really meant to, always complimenting you. Calling you pretty, saying he liked your outfits, how he liked the way your lips looked glossy from a little bit of chapstick. To you it seemed innocent, but to him he really wanted you to notice him.

He knew with the age gap, there’d most likely never be anything going on between the two of you, but it’s the thought that counts. Right?

John always looked out for you. And despite how toxic it may have seemed, he tried to keep the other guys away from you. The couple times he heard them talking about you and how innocent you were, he put an abrupt stop to that immediately. In a way, you were his and that was that. Despite being infantry and on the front lines with the group, you had started out as a combat medic and knew your way around a few wounds. Sometimes when all of the medics were busy, you were alongside helping them patch people up until they could be seen by the medics.

John carried out a mission that had gone a little south, and each member of his team was injured in some way. Gunshot wounds in places that weren’t fatal but still needed attention, gashes that needed stitches.

John was waiting outside of the infirmary, when you arrived. You had been injured as well, but definitely the least out of all of you. “John, it’s your turn to get looked at.” You breathe. “No. I’m fine.” He’s a little stern but you don’t listen to him. “How about I take a look at you? At least?” You look up at him with those doe eyes he adores so much. “Fine.” He sighs. “She told me all of the beds are full. So you can come to my room.” You nod your head, following him along the hallway. John felt like an idiot for leading his team into danger like this. It was his fault they were all injured. Even you. He opens the door to his room and you follow him inside. He closes it after you step inside. You’ve gathered a little bit of medical equipment, some tools for stitching that were packaged and sanitized already. John knows where the worst wound is, the back of his upper shoulder. He pulls his shirt off, it was no good anyways. He sits on his cot with his shoulder to you and you start bandaging him up. Luckily it wasn’t too deep to need stitches. A few other wounds on him needed attention. A couple pieces of shrapnel, gashes here and there. Once his wounds were clean and bandaged, it was your turn. You made a move for the door but he stops you. “Don’t think I don’t see the blood on your clothes Y/N.” He chuckles. “It’s your turn, sit down.” You nod your head.

He starts slow. Washing his hands, cleaning any equipment he’d need. You have to strip down to nothing but a bra and your cargo pants. It’s awkward at first but as he bandages you up, you get used to it. He starts making normal conversation as he helps you out. But eventually, it goes a little deeper. You asked him if he had a wife and he said no. No wife or kids. No relationship in the past couple decades, which made your eyes sparkle just a little when you found out.

“What’s this?” He points to your upper thigh. “Oh.. uh.” He notices the large tear in your cargo pants and sees that there’s a massive gash there. “Gonna have to bandage that. Need to get a closer look to see how deep it is.” You nod your head, standing up awkwardly. “I think I can do this one myself if-“

“Nonsense, I’ve got everything we need here. No worries okay? Nobody will see.” He reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

It’s very apparent to John that nobody had ever seen you in your undergarments before. You take a deep breath. Reaching to your front to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your thighs and off before sitting back down onto the bed. John has to force himself to look away from your panties. They were plain and white, but he still admired them. Maybe that was just because they were on you. He swallows hard as he gets to work. It’s not too deep. “I’m going to bandage it for now, I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches but you need to keep an eye on it. Make sure it’s clean.” You nod your head. Once he’s finished and cleaned up the dried blood on your thigh, he looks down your legs for any other cuts or punctures, not finding any. He stands up. Picking up an army green sweater of his own and passing it to you. “Here, since your shirt’s covered in blood.” He smiles.

“Thank you Captain.” You blush, taking it from him. You slip it on and he has to force his eyes away from you. You looked so good swimming in his sweatshirt. It goes down to about your mid thigh, covering your panties. He breathes out. “You’re a very pretty girl you know that?” He smiles. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. You notice his hoodie has his scent on it. It’s intoxicating.

You’re standing now, having slipped the hoodie on, you needed to pick up your clothes. You stand up straight to look up at him, thank him for helping you out. But instead, he stares at you. He notices a few strands of your hair in your face and doesn’t think before reaching forward to tuck them behind your ear, leaning in closer to you than he intended, and he can see your eyes flicker to his lips.

You thought he was going to kiss you.

And you didn’t panic or shove him away.

John takes the opportunity and leans in, lips brushing over yours. Your eyes close tightly and you’re breathing a little heavier than before. Once he closes the distance between the both of you, lips pressed firmly to yours he moves himself closer, hand still cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. He pulls you flush against him, hands holding your hips as he kisses you. He lowers his hand to your thigh, placing it there. You don’t realize it, but you open your legs just slightly subconsciously. He takes that as an invitation, fingertips gliding over your exposed skin. He doesn’t move his lips from yours and he can tell you’ve not had much experience. You kiss him shyly, lips moving a little sloppily. He doesn’t mind.

When his fingertips glide over your opening through your panties, your lips move from his so that a gasp could leave your mouth. Only now realizing what was happening. You’re panting a little, lips plump and slightly pinker from the friction. Your eyes were wide as you lowered your gaze to where his hand rested between your thighs, rubbing over the wet patch of your panties. “It’s okay. Just relax for me yeah?” He smiles. He’s rubbing small circles into your clit, your hips bucking slightly. His fingers are just barely brushing over your opening, ghosting over your clit in circles.

“Captain I-“

“Call me John sweetheart.”

“John..” you trail off. “I’ve never.. um.” You take a deep breath. “I know love, I can tell.” He let’s out a deep chuckle, your cheeks reddening. “No… I mean.” You swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything, not with anyone. Not by myself either.” John draws his hand back, resting it on your thigh. “You’ve never touched yourself before?” He asks. “Just.. rubbing the outside. But not even that really.” He smiles. “It’s alright love. Do you want me to stop? It’s okay to stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Your brain screams at you. This is a bad idea, he’s your captain. But the heat he’s awoken inside of you tugs you toward him. “I…” John smiles at your silence. You don’t want him to stop, but you’re too awkward to tell him to keep going. Hand gliding up your thigh again. Your eyes flutter closed, giving him the impression you’re okay with what he’s doing. He pushes you back slightly, into the wooden desk behind you. You rest your hands on it, hips pushed out from leaning against it. He rubs gentle circles over your covered pussy and your eyes are still shut, lips parted as whimpers escape your lips. Your knees weaken as he keeps a steady pace. “S’okay love.” He leans in, hot breath attacking your ear as he goes for your neck. You’re panting, and John loves this. When he kisses your neck, you’re on the edge, clutching the desk like it’s a lifeline. Knuckles turning white. You’re sure your hand will leave an impression in the wood, if you can even think about anything else other than the way his hand- oh.

A whimper leaves your lips, stomach clenching up tight. “John- I think I-“

“Shh.. it’s okay. You can let go for me. Show me how you cum, pretty girl.” He breathes. Your chest and stomach are full of butterflies, it feels like millions are swarming your body, you’re sure you’ll burst any minute. The immense amount of pleasure he’s giving you, you can’t take it. His lips attack your neck and while he wants you to be quiet, he doesn’t care. The other part of him wants to hear your moans, when you cum for the very first time. A cry leaves your lips when you cum, pussy clenching around nothing and tears gather in your eyes. John remembers the first time he’d cum too, how intense it felt, how he couldn’t get enough. Sure it was a long time ago but he still remembers it like it were yesterday. So as you pant, hips jumping when he slows his circling fingers, kissing you to hide the pants leaving your lips. If anyone heard you, they didn’t need to hear you anymore.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. Hands on your hips. You’re stuck in another dimension, shot there from your intense orgasm, floating through cloud 9 as your body comes down. He chuckles, seeing the lost look in your watery eyes. “You okay?” He chuckles. “Y-yeah.” You blush. The tingling between your legs overrides the clarity you have after your orgasm. Heart settling in your chest. The fluttering in your clit was hard to ignore. John can’t help but smile to himself. You were so stuck right now, he’s sure if you tried to walk away your legs would wobble. “Sit down on the bed until you’re calm okay?” He helps you sit down and he sits next to you. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathes. John finds it harder and harder to ignore the own throbbing in his pants. But you’re not ready for that yet. “I’m sorry if I forced myself onto you.”

“No- no you didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You face is burning red. He smiles, just as he’s about to say something else, a knock at his door has him flinching. “Captain, there are beds open in the infirmary now!” Gaz calls to him. “Thank you Sergeant!” He calls back. “Should probably get back to them.” You nod your head. “You can keep the hoodie. Looks so much better on you anyways.” He breathes. You blush, nodding your head with a smile.

———

For the next couple of days, everything seems like a blur. You can’t do anything without thinking about what had happened between the two of you. How he could make you feel like that through your clothing, fingers not exploring you anymore than just the outside of your opening. When you pour coffee, you overfill your cup thinking about it sometimes. The overwhelming sensation of your orgasm sending you spiraling. The couple days after it had happened, you tried it yourself. But it ended in frustrated sighs and a cold shower. Interactions with him seemed completely normal. At least to him they did. You couldn’t look at him the same way. His fingers had done such sinful things to your body and he was so casual about it. Sometimes you’d swallow hard when he’s gripping something tightly. A pen, a gun.

Your thigh maybe?

You have to shake yourself out of it. The part of your brain that knows sex exists wonders what it’d be like to have him inside of you. Pushing your walls apart with his cock, tugging an orgasm from you. It would hurt, it’d sting. But what follows makes the fantasy worth it. An orgasm so good it makes the last look pathetic. Crying and clenching around his cock. Hitting such a high that you never come down from it.

A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts, and you stand up hurriedly. Opening the door just a crack so you can see who it is. “Captain?” You whisper. It’s late.

“Hey… sorry to bother you so late. It’s just that gash on my back is starting to throb. I’m worried it may be infected.” He trails off. “I don’t want to take away from the medics so I was curious if you would look at it?” He asks. “Yeah. Of course.” You move aside. John quickly notices you’re wearing just his hoodie again. It didn’t look like you had anything on underneath it. “You can sit down on my bed.” John nods his head, he can see that it’s unmade, so he probably disrupted you. “Sorry if I woke you.” He says. “Oh no. You didn’t. I was just getting ready for bed.” You smile. He nods. He tugs his shirt off, and you pull the bandage off. Seeing that it does look infected. “It doesn’t look too bad, but it’s definitely infected. I’ll clean it out and put a new bandage on but you should probably see a medic for some antibiotics.” You tell him. He nods his head. Once he sees you’re finishing up, he decides to make his next move. He reaches out for your thigh, pulling you closer to him. You don’t make a sound, but don’t move away from him either. “You’re so beautiful.” He looks up at you, fingertips sliding up underneath the hem of the hoodie. You breathe hard. “Thank you.” Your heart starts to race and he can hear it.

John knows he could get himself into a lot of trouble being with you. He knows it. But when he brushes his fingertips up your panties and can feel how wet you are for him, every bit of self control he has goes out of the window. As he rubs circles into your clit again, seeing the way your eyes flutter closed and you clutch his arm for dear life. He loses himself even further. “You.. said you’ve never done anything?” You shake your head. He stands up, moving you back, watching your eyes open in frustration as he draws his hand away to do so. “Why don’t you lay on your bed f’me?” He breathes. You look up at him, and he can see the nervousness in your eyes. “Okay.” You agree, sliding back into your bad. “Relax. I just want to take care of you. Make you feel real pretty.” Your cheeks heat up. What the hell have you managed to get yourself into? “Try to stay quiet for me okay?” You nod your head, he pushes his hoodie up over your hips and you look up at the ceiling in nervousness. Nobody had seen you naked, ever. He slides your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side. When he can finally see you, all of you. He has to stop himself from drooling.

“So pretty n wet for me.” He growls. He leans down, hearing you gulp. “W-what are you doing?” You ask. Confused by how he’s getting closer to your opening as he moves himself down the bed. “You trust me?” He breathes. You nod your head. “So relax. Let me take care of you.” You nod your head, tensing up as he lowers himself into you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning you to the bed so that no matter how much you squirm, you won’t get away from him.

You still don’t understand what he’s doing until he lowers himself into you completely, tongue gliding up your opening and a gasp leaves your lips. Your arousal is sticky and sweet on his tongue. He wiggles his tongue back and fourth over your clit, knowing how sensitive it is since it’s not been too abused. Your hips buck and you try to move away. The direct pressure has you flinching. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at your reaction. He continues as he normally would, kissing your clit and flicking his tongue over it. Loving how wet you’re getting and the tiny mewls that leave your lips with each flick of his tongue. The way your hips jump with every single lick or touch he makes. He draws away for just a second. Looking up at you, “M’gonna try something okay? If I hurt you, tell me.” You nod your head. Worry flows through you, but your arousal blocks it out. Your opening is already soaking with his saliva and your arousal. He slides two of his fingers over it, when the first is wet enough, he pushes it inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp out. You’re tight even on his finger. He has to stop himself from growling out.

When you’re adjusted, he pumps it into you, the sounds that leave your lips are unholy and he has to remind you try to be quiet for him. You’re squirming underneath him, moaning out his name which he adores. It’s music to his ears. He moves his other hand from your thigh, pressing it down onto your pelvis, holding you still for him. The second finger is wet enough, and you’re adjusted to him. He adds the second finger and you freeze, eyes widened as you stare down at him. He lets out a deep chuckle. “You like that hm?” He mumbles. You nod your head. “So pretty.” He mumbles, leaning down and flicking his tongue over your clit while pumping those two fingers into you.

You tilt your head back, pants leaving your lips as you enter a subspace.

Your body is warm, the buzzing in your head is all you can hear as he edges you closer to the best orgasm you’ll have so far. You’re doing so good for him, and he’s reassuring you. But you’re not listening. When he pushes you over the edge, you clamp a hand on your mouth, nearly screaming into it. He smiles into you, not stopping his assault on your sensitive clit. Your legs shiver and he has to hold you still so that he can finish your high, gripping you tightly. The squelch of his fingers entering you is sinful and so loud with how wet you are. The only thing on John’s mind is how he wants to hear you like this when the two of you are alone. Moaning and whimpering out loud for him, it’s a dream. When you finally come down from your high, body relaxing. Your skin is flushed red, warm to the touch. John was surprised the kind of feelings he made you feel. “You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re still a little out of it. He loves it, has you right where he wants you. “You did so good for me pretty girl.” He brushes his fingertips over the bare skin on your stomach. “So so good for me.” He smiles. You notice the bulge he has in his sweatpants. Eyes widening at the size of him. How was he supposed to fit? John catches on quickly to what you’re looking at and smiles. “Hey. Look at me.” He lifts your chin so that you’re looking at him. “Do you feel good honey?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah.. really good. I want to make you feel good too John.” You breathe. “Hey. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I want to make you feel good baby.” He mumbles, leaning in to kiss you. His facial hair scratches you so good, the only thought crossing your mind is how good that same scratch feels when he’s buried his face between your legs.

“John.” You mumble. “Yeah sweetheart?” He asks. “What.. what is sex like?” You ask. He smiles. “It’s hard to explain because I’m sure my pleasure feels much different than yours. But whatever you felt just there? Is probably twice as intense depending on who you’re with.” You nod your head. You’re intrigued now. After a few more minutes of talking to John, you start yawning. He smiles at you. You’re so cute. He helps you get back to bed. You clean yourself up and he makes sure you’re comfortable before he leaves. The complete relaxation your body feels sends you into a deep sleep, sleep so good you can’t remember the last time you slept so good.

Over the course of the next couple weeks, your interactions with John are much more intense. When you make eye contact, you lock eyes. You stare longer than you should at each other and when John makes eye contact with you in a meeting, whatever he’s holding he holds in a death grip, knuckles going white with the force of his hold. You’re driving him crazy and you can tell. The tension in the room when the both of you are there is so intense that that others notice how on edge he is. He has dreams about you. You pinned beneath him, moaning for him. He loses so much sleep over you. Nothing he could do himself would even compare to what he’s felt in his dreams about you. But he would never ever force you into anything you don’t want or put you under any kind of pressure. His interactions with you are normal. Small smiles, waves. Some normal chatting during pass times. John wants to come to your room and touch you every night. He wants to make you feel absolutely amazing all of the time, but he knows there’s a such thing as too much. He doesn’t want to pressure you, so he keeps his distance.

You on the other hand, hoped he’d come visit. Wish he’d come by every night. You’ve never thought about sex before, but since he’d touched you the first time, you thought about it constantly. Day dreaming about him, what he must feel like. How gentle he could be. How rough he could be. You’re losing sleep over it, distracted during meetings. You’ve never once thought about having sex with anyone you’ve met in person before, but John successfully changed that for you. You’re laying on your bed, phone in hand. You’re watching something you shouldn’t be. Videos on what to expect when losing your virginity, other videos too. It seems so good, so addicting. Your body feels hot thinking about it. If his fingers felt like that, how good would he feel inside of you? You’d finally get to make him feel good, repay him for him for how good he’s made you feel. The intimacy draws you in. You’re daydreaming about, laying in his bed as he thrusts himself into you. Surrounded by his intoxicating scent, clutching his sheets, hearing him moan out. Thinking about what he’d say.

Your body feels hot, legs sticky from your arousal. You’re not sure how much more you can take. John was on watch, he’d be getting off of it soon. You sit up, sliding a pair of socks on your feet. He has to pass by your room, you’d hear his footsteps. You think to yourself for a second. You pick up his hoodie, folding it up. You wait by your door, listening for his footsteps. After a few minutes, you want to moan out when you can hear his heavy footsteps, boots making them echo. Heat pools between your legs, and you can’t take it anymore. You have to know. You wait a few minutes, opening up your door and peeking out. You don’t see anyone, so you make your way down the hallway to his room. When you get there, you knock at his door. He opens it, smiling when he sees you. “Come on sweetheart.” He smiles. “What can I do for you Hm?” He asks. “I washed this, and wanted to give it back to you.” You smile, handing it over. He stands still for a minute. “Why don’t you keep it Hm? Looks so much better on you anyways.” He smiles. Your stomach fills with butterflies, you didn’t really want to give it back, so hearing this was good. You liked sleeping in it. “Why don’t you come sit down hm?” He pats the bed next to him, so you do. You sit down, and John can see the way you’re clenching your thighs together. He swallows hard. “John… I wanted to ask you something.” You breath, “yeah?”

“I..” you take a deep breath. “I want to know what sex is like.” You breathe. He smiles. “What do you want to know about it?” He asks. “I want to know what it feels like.” You blush. He looks confused for a moment. He freezes for a minute, hand moving to rest on your thigh. “The only way you’ll be able to tell what it feels like is to have sex, Y/N.” You nod your head, eyes meeting with his. “I know.” Those words crash right into him. “Do.. you want me to…?” He hesitates. You nod your head. He looks down. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. “I’ve thought about it, a lot. It’s what I want.” You take a deep breath. His tongue glides over his bottom lip. “Okay. Get up on the bed love.” You nod your head. John can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. You never had these issues until he made the first move. He’d definitely need some reassurance before taking anything too far with you.

He felt nervous, a sense of nervousness he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. John tried at relationships before. He’d been with his fair share of women, but none of them ever worked out. None of them ever made him feel the way that you did. Your smile, the color of your eyes. The fact that despite being in some of the worst situations you could possibly think of, you still tried your best to cheer everyone up. Some of the best times John has had in the military is after you joined 141. It seemed dull, like he was just going through the motions. But you came along. You joked with everyone, your smile and laugh were contagious. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought, not in every aspect anyways. You knew how bad a situation was, but ignored it. Tried your best to help the others around you work through it.

John moved slow. Lingering touches, gentle kisses as he moves himself above you. His lips ghosted over yours and when he tugged your shirt off, seeing your completely exposed chest, it started to hit him. This was real, this was happening. This was no dream, no daydream. You were beneath him and you wanted him. He grasps the hem of his own shirt, pulling it off before returning his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss you may never forget. He rocks his hips into yours, noting the whimper that leaves your lips. He tries to prepare you the best he can. Keeping you occupied with foreplay. Kissing you, nibbling at the skin on your neck. Whispering to you. You start to squirm, getting impatient. He knows you’re ready, but he’s stalling. He doesn’t want you to regret this. He wants to give you as much time as possible to back out in case you’re not ready. He grasps the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs, noticing you aren’t wearing any panties. He takes a deep breath at your exposed mound. Nearly dripping for him.

He reaches down to unbuckle his belt and your eyes follow his hands. Making quick work of his belt and lifting himself off of the bed to remove his cargo pants. Your breath hitches in your throat when he grasps his boxers, tugging them down his legs and revealing himself to you. There wasn’t a single layer of clothing keeping him from you now. Completely raw and exposed to each other, something neither of you would ever forget. You swallow hard when he moves to hover over you once again. Eyes looking deep into yours, waiting for you to stop him. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head, looking down. You wondered how it was supposed to fit, he was massive. John takes a deep breath, lifting himself up until he’s on his knees. He moves himself closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up to move you closer to him. A gasp leaving your lips as he moves you where he wants you. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “You can’t take it back.” He mumbles. “I know. I trust you, John.” You breathe. He nods his head, looking down to where the both of you were about to connect.

The thought of it is like a drug. The thought of being inside of you, sounds so foreign. Yet it’s right here. About to happen. You feel the tip of his cock gliding over your opening. Gathering your arousal on the tip, gliding it over your clit. Your hips buck and a mewl leaves your lips. John bites down on his lip, harder than he means to. He takes in a sharp breath, spitting into his hand and slicking up his shaft, lining himself up with your entrance. “Relax for me okay? I’m going to hurt you, but you have to trust me.” He breathes. You nod up at him, eyes burning into his. The tip of his cock pushes through your folds, stretching your opening. Your nose scrunches up, eyes closing tightly. “It’s okay-“ he breathes.

This seemed unfair. He had to hurt you, someone so sweet and kind. But he felt nothing but the best pleasure he’d ever felt in his life. How tight you felt wrapping around the tip of his cock. A tighter death grip on him with every little bit he sinks into you. He’s trying to keep himself together, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries you want to let out. John hates himself for hurting you so badly. He kisses your cheeks, the small tears that slip from your eyes, he’s kissing those away too. “Take a deep breath for me.” He mumbles. You nod your head. Sucking in a harsh breath. John’s hips are halted, not wanting to push you too far. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he had to. You shake your head. “You can keep going John.” You breathe. He nods his head. Sinking into you further.

Finally when his hips are flush with yours, he gives you a minute to adjust. He leans down, kissing you. Trying to distract you. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod your head. He slides out of you, pushing himself into you again. The first few times he does it, it’s a little rough. It stings a little bit. As you adjust to him, it starts to goes away. You tilt your head up, chest starting to move with your breaths that are getting more frequent. “You feeling good sweetheart?” John asks. You nod your head. “Yeah. F-feels good John.” You breathe. You look down between the both of you. Seeing his girthy cock disappearing into you. How on earth it fit, how it could feel so good. Was beyond you. You felt so full of him, a foreign feeling. A moan leaves your lips, propping yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look. “You like to watch sweetheart?” He laughs. Leaning in to kiss your nose. “Mhm.” You breath. “Feels so good.” You pant. Just when you’re about to ask him to pick up the pace, it’s like he reads your mind. Thrusting a little faster, with a little more force. “Oh my god-“ you moan, letting your head fall back into his pillows. And just like your daydreams, you’re there. Tugging at his sheets as he pushes you into a high you know you’ll never come down from. Sweat covered skin, fluids mixing together, a sinful concoction. John chuckles when you moan out, making him clamp a hand over your mouth. “You’ve got to be quiet for me sweetheart.” He smiles. The fact that he could make you feel so good sends shivers down his spine.

Each sensitive spot he brushes up against, he adds more. Nibbling on that sweet spot on your neck he’d found. Fingers gliding across your stomach to rub small circles on your sensitive nub. He kisses down your chest, attacking your nipples with his lips. You’re on cloud 9 again, but it’s more intense. “Can feel you clenching around me sweetheart. You close?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. Struggling to keep yourself together. John smiles. He rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace. “Rub your clit for me.” He draws his hand back. You take over his place, gently rubbing at it. He keeps the same pace, thrusting right into your spongy spot. You were teetering on the edge. You suck in a sharp breath when you hit your high, and John clamps his hand over your mouth again right as you cum, muffling a moan that leaves your lips. You draw your hand back, clutching the sheets like your life depends on it. Bucking your hips up into him. John rides out your high before his thrusts halt. “Can you handle it?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re dazed as he continues, right on the edge of his own high. The groans that leave his lips are even sexier than you thought, another pit forming in your stomach. “Oh fuck- I’m going to-“ he slides out of you, pumping his cock. You pull him into you, kissing him to muffle his own moans, jumping when you feel his warmth covering your chest and stomach. When he relaxes, hand covered in his cum. He laughs. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes. “No no. You weren’t.” You blush. He’s a little embarrassed just how quickly he had finished, but he can’t even remember the last time he’d been with anyone. He stands up, getting you a towel before returning and wiping his cum off of you. Helping you get cleaned up.

When you’re wearing clothes again, he’s got you pulled real close to him. Hand gliding through your hair as you lay next to each other. “Thank you, John.” You look up at him. “For what?” He asks. “For being so gentle with me.” He smiles. “I will always be gentle with you. You already go through enough as is, I don’t need to go and add to it.” He chuckles. “Besides. You’re a sweet girl. And I’m glad you trust me as much as you do.” You lay your head on him again, eyes getting a little heavy. You don’t feel much but relaxed right now, but you’re sure tomorrow will be a different story. When you see the love bites he’s left on your skin. Maybe fingertip sized bruises somewhere on your body. The slight sting between your legs. Sore thighs. The thought of it makes you smile.

Who would’ve thought that out of all of the people you crossed paths with that could’ve taken your virginity, it ended up being your Captain.

I didn’t know if you wanted me to tag you so I’m going to anyways. I hope you like it!

@tamayakii

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

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Madness - Chapter 1

Warning: swear language, mentioned childhood trauma, and you know it's a war college so you should be prepared.

Note: I hope you will enjoy this chapter, I'm currently working on ch 2, there will be more excitment as the story goes on, pls bear with me I have so many ideas for this fanfic ;)

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

—Article One, Section One

The Dragon Rider’s Codex

„You’re late.” says General Melgren, when I enter his office. He is staring out of the window, and didn’t turn around when he heard me closing the door.

„I apologise, but…” I try to defend myself.

„I dont’t care about your excuses. This is the Conscription Day and you will not fail.” he starts his lecture for the hundreth times.

As if he let me fail. I had been trained for this day since I was born. I am strong, he made sure of that. He doesen’t know the word love since my mother’s death. I never once received a kind word from him. For me he’s a monster, not a father. I hate him.

„Yes, General.” I answer, while I’m tightening my grip on my canvas rucksack.

„Go, and don’t forget what’s your duty. And do not forget that you are a Melgren! Do not bring more shame on this name, that you already had. The Riders Quadrant the only place the suitable to hide your…disfunction.”

What a kind man, I thought. That’s not my fault that I was born this way.

„Yes, General.”

„You’re dismissed.”

With his last word I walk out of the office and I go to wait for Violet in front of her mother’s office. Voices rose from beyond the closed door. They arguing, again.

It’s not a surprise beacuse everybody knows that Violet Sorrengail isn’t meant to be a Rider. She’s small and fragile. The complete opposite of a Rider. Only General Sorrengail is blind to this fact.

Basgiath War College is famous for its cuelty throughout Navarre. Nonetheless thousands of twenty-year-olds waiting to enter their chosen quadrant. I am one of them.

Every Navarrian officer, whether they choose to be schooled as healers, scribes, infantry, or riders is molded within these cruel walls over three years, honed into weapons to secure our mountainous borders from the violent invasion attempts of the kingdom of Poromiel and their gryphon riders. The weak don’t survive here, especially not in the Riders Quadrant. The dragons make sure of that.

I nearly dropped my rucksack when General Sorrengail’s door opened with such a force that’s matching Mira Sorrengail’s temper. She’s Violets older sister by six years.

Mira Sorrengail is the epitome of the perfect Rider. She has short hair to match the standard Rider’s length. She was dressed in black leather and carried her battle worn rucksack in her hand. She was elegant and lethal.

„It seems that General Sorrengail didn’t change her mind about Violet and the Riders Quadrant.” I say when she realises that I was waiting for them.

„No. She’s batshit crazy.” Mira says without a care that the guards might tell her what she said.

„Don’t worry, I’ll be there for her. I can’t guarantee that she will graduate without a scratch, but I will do my best to protect her.” I try to calm Mira.

In this moment the door opened again a whole lot gentler then before. It was Violet.

We practically grew up together, because my father always left me here in Basgiath when he had left to fulfill his duty as one of the most powerful Generals.

Violet was a kind, gentle but sharp tounged woman. She dosen’t fit any of the criteria that makes someone suitable for a life of a Rider.

„Hi Aelin.”

„Hi, Vi. How are you?” I ask her refering to the talk with her mother.

„We don’t have time for a chit chat. Let’s go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates when I flew over.” Mira says as she starts walking, leading us down the stone staircase and through the hallways to Violet’s room.

„She’s fucking efficient, I’ll give you that.” Mira mutters

All of Violet’s personal items have been packed into crates that now sit stacked in the corner.

„I was hoping I’d be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant.” Mira says while emptying Violet’s rucksack to see what she packed that makes it look so heavy.

„So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.” Says Violet while she stares at her sister with daggers in her eyes. „And what are you doing? It took me the whole night to choose what I want to bring with me.”

„Sorry Vi, but your pack is almost as heavy as you. It would be impossible to carry it across the Parapet, even for me, and I’m stronger than you.” I wince as she try to catch her books that Mira deemed unnecessary.

„Hey, I want those books. You can’t throw all of them away.” Shouths Violet.

„What’s this for then?” She asks holding up one of the books.

„Obviously killing people. If my memory correct that’s a book about poisonous herbs” I say to at least save one of the books for Violet.

„I’m surprised that you even tried to read a book” Replies Mira not even paying attention to what she says.

„I’m not illiterate Mira. I just have problems with reading and you know that too.” I cringe because I really hate this topic.

„Shit, Aelin I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Sighs Mira, then looks at Violet to divert the subject.

„Take off those horrible boots, they are a death trap. You’ll slip right off the Parapet with those smooth soles. I have a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just in case.” States Mira while giving the boots and black leather clothes to her sister. „Now, get changed while I sort out the rest of this mess.”

„And you…” She begins and check my clothes if I too need to change them.

„You’re set.” Mira states in a surprised tone.

„Yeah, you know my father. He never let me embarass him by falling off the Parapet beacuse of something this trivial.” I said as I roll my eyes.

„Than at least he did one thing right in his life.” Mira says harshly while she finish packing into Violet’s rucksack.

„Rider black is supposed to be earned. Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” I hear Violet refer to her clothes and mine, when she emerges from the bathroom in her new attire.

„You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say.” Responds Mira while she laces Violet into a vest-style corset over her shirt.

„Here, this is yours. Put it on too.” Mira say and I get a corset that matches with Violet’s one.

„What is this?” I ask while trying putting it on.

„Something I designed,” she explains „I had it specially made for you two with Teine’s scales sewn in, so be careful with it.”

„Dragon scales?” I jerk my head back to look at her. „How the hell? Teine is huge.”

„I happen to know a rider whose power can make big things very small.” A devious smile plays across her lips.” „And smaller things… much, much bigger.”

„How much bigger?” I ask laughing.

„It’s a secret.” She says while motioning Violet to sit in front of her.

„You’re the worst.” says Violet.

„Oh come on Vi, don’t tell me that you aren’t curious.” I tease her.

„Head forward. You should have cut your hair.” Mira says while she pulls the strainds tight against Violets head and resume weaving. „It’s a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention being a giant target. No one else has a hair that fades out silver like this, and they’ll already be aiming for you.”

„You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length.” Says Violet with defiance. „Besides, other than everyone else’s concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that’s perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I’m punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it’s not like I feel the need to hide who I am. Besides it’s not like Aelin will blend into the environment either.”

„So what’s your excuse for not cutting your hair?” Mira asks with raised eyebrows. „Because I know you have one too. You two always come up with something to get out of trouble.”

„I won’t cut it. I can braid it tightly to not distract me in a fight, besides it’s not like I resemble the General. My hair and my eyes come from my mother.” I say while looking into a mirror on one of the walls.

It’s true. I’m nothing like my father. I look just like my mother, as they say. She was a beauty and the only person whom my father loved in his life. Unfortunately that caused her death.

When she was in her last months in the pregnency, she was attacked by a group who wanted to eliminate the General using my mother. But she was a warrior and tried to save us by escaping. That was when someone injured her and left her to die. When they found my mother she was dying. Pregnant with me. The healers tried to save her but they are not gods. They can’t bring back the dead. They were only able to save me. These are the only facts that I know because nobody want to speak about my mother in fear to anger the General.

Between the few minutes that my mother had died and I was saved, happened a lot of things to my body. My hair is supposed to be a natural golden color but has strands of silvery white, just like my eyes. They should be golden but there are tiny circular parts around my iris where the silvery white color appears. The healers said that it was due to lack of oxygen. My father can’t even look at me because I remind him of my mother and my unique coloring is remind him of her brutal death and that he couldn’t save her. I think this is the main reason that he hates me. The other is another consequence of the circumstance of my birth.

When I was old enough that the General brought tutors to start my education, it turned out that my brain suffered some damage too. I was dyslexic. It doesen’t mean that I can’t read, it’s just really-really difficult. As if the words are running away from my eyes, everytime I try to read something. It doesen’t matter if it’s a short or long text. My memory is great enough that I can remember a lot of things after hearing it but not everything. That makes studying a whole lot of harder. The General ordered that we keep it a secret, so outside my father, and the tutors, the Sorrengail children are the only ones who know it. This is the other reason why the General said in his office that I bring shame on the Melgren name.

„Well then there’s nothing that I can say to change either of your mind.” Sighs Mira. „Then listen to me well.” As she starts to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes, barely pausing to breathe.

„Be observant. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You’ve read the Codex?” Mira asks

„A few times.” Violet answers.

„I tried but I don’t remember everything.” I shrug.

„Then Violet will help you memorize it once you begin your classes. Then you should know that the other riders can kill you any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets means better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn’t worthy of a dragon anyway.”

„Except when sleeping. It’s an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three-„ cites Violet.

„Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe at night. Sleep in this if you can.” She taps the stomach of my corset. „Both of you.”

„There’s hidden sheaths sewn diagonally along the rib cage in your corset. For your daggers.” Continue Mira.

„I only have four.” Says Violet, then she grabs them from the floor and slide it into the sheaths.

„I have four and a sword.” I say to Mira while pointing at them at my ribs and thighs, the sword is strapped to my back.

„That’s fine. You’ll earn more.” She nods „Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times.” She points to the sheaths down her thighs.

„Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” Violet says. Clearly she worries too much.

„Come on Vi, remember what Mira said. You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say. We will survive no matter what!” I say trying to calm her down a bit.

„Exactly. You’re both famous Generals daughters. A Sorrengail and a Melgren. You can do what you have to do to survive and never forget that.” Agrees Mira with me. „There’s no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. There’s only survival and death.” The bell chimes – only thirty minutes left. She swallows. „It’s almost time. Ready?”

„No.” Replies quickly Violet.

„My hands are trembling.” I show them that indeed my hands are visibly shaking.

„Neither was I ready.” A wry smile lifts a corner of Mira’s mouth. „And I’d spent my life trainig for it, just like Aelin.”

„We’re not going to die today.” States Violet and slings the rucksack over her shoulder.

The halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as we wind our way down through various staircases, but the noise from outside grows louder the lower we descend. Through the windows, I see thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes ont he grassy fields just beneath the main gate.

From what I’ve witnessed every year, most families hold on to their candidates right up to the very last bell. The four roads leading to the fortress are clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converge in front of the college, but it’s the empty ones at the edge of the fields that make me nervous.

They’re for the bodies.

Right before we round the last corner that will lead tot he courtyard, Mira stops.

„What is – Oof.” I hear Violet’s muffled voice when Mira yanks her against her chest, hugging her tight in the relative privacy of the corridor.

„Aelin, you too. Come here.” Says Mira as Violet makes room for me, and then extends her arms.

„I love both of you. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll. Both of your lives are equally important. Do everything you can to stay alive.” Her voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

„We’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.” I promise.

She nods, her chin bumping against the top of my head. „I know. Let’s go.”

That’s all she says before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress. Instructors, commanders, and even General Sorrengail and General Melgren are gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to become the order within. Out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate is the only one no cadet will enter today, since each quadrant has its own entrance and facilities. Hell, the riders have their own citadel.

„Find Dain Aetos,” Mira tells us as we cross through the courtyard, heading for the open gate.

„Dain?” Asks Violet with a smile. I think she has a huge crush on him, but didn’t admit it yet. I don’t think he’s such a good person as Vi thinks, but I was never that close with him. We always avoided each others company. There’s something in his eyes that’s makes me uneasy.

„I’ve only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he’s doing well, and he’ll keep both of you safe.”

„As if I want to go near him” I say silently

„It doesn’t matter Aelin, just stay alive.” Scolds me Mira

„And you. Don’t smile like that,” she turns to Violet. „He’ll be second-year.” She shakes a finger at her. „Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should” – she lifts her brows – „often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety. This applies to you too Aelin.”

„So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” I say with a smirk. „Just not the second- or the third-years.”

„Exactly.” She winks.

„Then we should definitely find the handsome ones. This is our first task Vi.” I joke with her, in hope that she at least smiles because she seems a little greener the longer she looks at the wagons at the road.

„Let’s cross the Parapet first Aelin.” Says Violet

„Sure Vi.” I wink at her.

We cross through the gates, leaving the fortress, and join the organized chaos beyond.

Each of Navarre’s six provinces has sent this year’s share of candidates for military service. Some volunteer. Some are sentenced as punishment. Most are conscripted. The only thing we have in common here at Basgiath is that we passed the entrance exam – both written and an agility test – which means at least we won’t end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.

The agility test was easy with someone like me who had the „luck” to train under General Melgren’s watchful eyes. But the written exam was a nightmare. I barely passed despite the fact that I practiced for non-stop before it. It’s just the fact that I’m not like the other normal candidates. Give me a weapon and I’ll know how to use it. Bring me an opponent and I will figure out how to win. But I just can’t will my barin to function normally. Which my father likes to remind me all the time.

The atmosphere is tense with anticipation as Mira leads me along the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret.

The majority of the crowd moves to line up at the base of the northern turret – the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the mass heads toward the gate behind us – the Healer Quadrant that consumes the southern end of the college. Then I spot a few taking the central tunnel into the archives below the fortress to join the Scribe Quadrant. Violet wanted to be a scribe for her whole life. But General Sorrengail has other plans.

The entrance to the Riders Quadrant is nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, that we rider candidates will climb.

We join the riders’ line, waiting to sign in, and then I glance up.

High above us, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divides the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the Riders Quadrant on the southern ridgeline, is the Parapet, the stone bridge that’s about to separate rider candidates from cadets over the next few hours.

„And to think, I’ve been preparing for the scribe’s written exam all these years.” Says Violet in thick sarcastic voice. „I should have been playing on a balance beam.”

„Believe me Vi, I’ve been playing on a balance beam for years but I don’t think that’s the same as the Parapet.” I say laughing. „However I’m a little excited about this.”

Mira ignores us as the line moves forward and candidates disappear through the door. „Don’t let the wind sway your steps.”

Two candidates ahead of us, a woman sobs as her partner rips her away from a young man, the couple breaking from the line, retreating in tears down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. There are no other parents ahead of us, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers.

„Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down,” Mira says, the lines of her face tightening. „Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you.”

„Maybe I should let them go first,” whispers Violet.

„No,” Mira answers. „The longer you wait on those steps” – she motions toward the tower – „the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the Parapet before the terror owns you.”

„Mira’s right and you know it Vi. We will be alright. I’ll be there with you until we cross this damn thing.” I try to cheer her up. „If you want I’ll be the first, than you can watch and copy me.”

„Thanks, Aelin.” Smiles Violet.

The line moves, and the bell chimes again. It’s eight o’clock.

Sure enough, the crowd of thousands behind us has separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service.

„Focus,” Mira snaps, and I whip my head forward. „This might sound harsh, but don’t seek friendships in there. Forge alliances. Both of you.”

There are only two ahead of us now – a woman with a full pack, and a man with the woman crying over him. He’s carrying an even bigger rucksack.

I look around the pair toward the roll-keeping desk, and my eyes widen.

„Is he…?” Whispers Violet.

Mira glances and mutters a curse. „A separatist’s kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? It’s a relic from the rebellion.”

„A dragon did that?” She asks.

I nod. „Yes. General Melgren told me once, that it was his dragon that did it to all of them when he executed their parents. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason. Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor.”

It always seemed cruel to me. Punishing the children for their parents actions.

In this moment the blood drains from Mira’s face, and she grips the straps of my pack, turning me to face her. „I just remembered.” Her voice drops, and we lean in to hear her better. „Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

That name…

„That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. „He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” She lifts her gaze to Violet. „Both of you.”

„His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” Violet says quietly. „What is Xaden doing here?”

„All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ cirmes,” I murmur. Yep, my father was really a monster.

Mira whispers as we shuffle sideways, moving with the line. „Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him…” She shakes her head. „Well, there’s nothing much that can be done then. He’s risen to the rank of wingleader.”

„That’s bullshit.” Violet seethes.

„He’s sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don’t think that will stop him where you’re concerned. Once you get across the Parapet – because you will make it across – find Dain. He’ll put you in his squad, and we’ll just hope it’s far from Riorson.” She grips my straps tighter. „Stay. Away. From. Him.” She knew me well enough to feel the need to repeat it. I don’t like this whole rebellion relic thing. This punishment is too curel.

„Roger that.” I say to calm her down.

„Noted.” Nods Violet.

„Next,” a voice calls from behind the wooden tablet hat bears the rolls of the Riders Quadrant. The marked rider I don’t know is seated next to a scribe, whose eyebrows rise over his weathered face. „Violet Sorrengail?”

She nods, and picking up the quill she sing her name on the roll.

„But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant,” he says softly.

„General Sorrengail chose otherwise,” I answer him.

„Melgren?” He asks.

„Yes, my name is Aelin Melgren.” I say then I sign my name on the next empty line on the roll.

„You look so much like your late mother,” He says while sadness fills his eyes.

„You knew my mom?” I ask amazed.

He turned his head to Violet „Pity. You had so much promise.” So he knew my mother, but won’t say a thing. As usual. But I just want to know what she was like.

„By the gods,” the rider next tot he scribe says. „You’re Mira Sorrengail?” His jaw drops, and I can smell his hero worship from here.

„I am.” She nods. „This is my sister, Violet. And this is Aelin Melgren. They’ll be first-years.”

„If your sister survives the Parapet.” Someone behind me snickers. „Wind just might blow her right off.”

„Shut up, idiot. You have a higher chance falling of the Parapet than her. It seems you don’t have a brain to think with, if you don’t know to not interfere in the adults conversations.” I answer angrily.

„You fought at Strythmore,” the rider behind the desk says with awe. „They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out the battery behind enemy lines.”

„As I was saying.” Mira puts a hand at our shoulders. „This is my sister, Violet and our friend Aelin Melgren.”

„You know the way.” The scribe nods and points to the open door into the turret. It looks ominously dark in there, and I fight the urge to run away.

„I know the way,” she assures him, leading us past the table so the snickering asshole behind me can sign the roll.

We pause at the doorway and turn toward each other.

„Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child. And you too Aelin, I consider you my sister so stay alive.” She grins and walks away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word spreads of exactly who she is and what she’s done.

„Though to live up to that,” the woman ahead of us says from just inside the tower.

„It is,” Violet agrees.

„But at least she’s a good sister.” I say laughing.

My eyes adjust quickly to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows along the curved staircase.

„Sorrengail, and Melgren as in…?” the woman asks, looking over her shoulder as we begin to climb the hundreds of stairs.

„Yep.” There’s no railing, so I gesture Violet to keep her hand on the stone wall as we rise higher and higher.

„The generals?” the blond guy ahead of us asks.

„The same ones,” I answer, offering him a quick smile.

„Wow. Nice leathers, too.” He smiles back.

„Thanks. They’re courtesy of our family.”

„I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the Paraphet,” the woman says, glancing down the center of the staircase as we climb higher.

„Two last year.” Violet replies immediately. „Well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on.”

The woman’s brown eyes flare, but she turns back around keeps climbing. „How many steps are there?” she asks.

„Two hundred and fifty,” Violet answers.

„Oh god Vi, I love your brain.” I said laughing, then we climb in silence for another five minutes.

„Not too bad,” she says with a bright smile as we near the top and the line comes to a halt. „I’m Rhiannon Matthias, by the way.”

„Dylan,” the blond guy responds with an enthusiastic wave.

„Violet.” Vi give them a tense smile.

„Aelin.” I say and wink at Vi, ignoring Mira’s earlier suggestion that we avoid friendships and only forge alliances.

„I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day.” Dylan shifts his pack on his back. „Can you believe we actually get to do this? It’s a dream come true.”

„I can’t fucking wait.” Rhiannon’s smile widens. „I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?”

„Do your parents approve?” Dylan asks. „Because my mom’s been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I’ll have better chances for advancement as rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant.”

„Mine always knew I wanted this, so they’ve been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan’s already living her dream, married and expecting a baby.” Rhiannon glances back at us.

„What about you? Let me guess. With names like Melgren and Sorrengail, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year.”

„Yes, I wanted to come here since I can remember.” I say with a smile. „I’m really excited about this. I mean do you see the dragons? They magnificent.”

„I hear ya girl.” Says Rihannon as we high five. „What about you Violet?”

„I was more like volun-told.”

„Gotcha.”

„And riders do get way better perks than other officers,” Violet says to Dylan as the line moves upward again. The snickering candidate behind me catches up, sweating and red. Look who isn’t snickering now. „Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy,” she continues. No one gives a shit what riders wear as long as it’s black. The only rules that apply to riders are the ones in the Codex.

„And the right to call yourself a supreme badass,” Rhiannon adds.

„That too,” I agree. „Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers.”

„Plus I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants,” Dylan adds.

„True. Right after graduation. If we survie.” Says Violet. „I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines.”

„Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants,” Rhiannon muses.

„I’m not dying,” Dylan says with way more confidence than I feel – however I practiced for this for my whole life – as he tugs a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. „She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we’re waiting until graduation.” He kisses the ring and tucks the chain back under his collar. „The next three years are going to be long ones, but they’ll be worth it.”

„You might make it across the Parapet,” the guy behind us sneers. „This one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine.”

I roll my eyes. He doesn’t learn.

„Shut up and focus on yourself,” Rhiannon snaps, her feet clicking against the stone as we climb.

The top comes into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. Those clouds are going to wreak havoc on us, and we have to be on the other side of the Parapet before they do.

Another step, another tap of Rhiannon’s feet.

„Let me see your boots,” Says Violet quietly, probably hoping that the jerk behind me can’t hear her.

Her brows puckers, and confusion fills her brown eyes, but she shows her the shoes. They’re smooth, just like the ones Violet was wearing earlier. My stomach sinks like a rock. I know what she will do.

The line starts moving again, pausing when we’re only a few feet from the opening. „What size are your feet?” She asks.

„What?” Rhiannon blinks at her.

„Your feet. What size are they?”

„Eight,” she answers, two lines forming between her brows.

„I’m seven,” Vi says quickly. „It will hurt like hell, but I want you to take my left boot. Trade with me.”

„I’m sorry?” She looks at her like she has lost her mind.

„These are rider boots. They’ll grip the stone better. Your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable, but at least you’ll have a shot at not falling off if the rain hits.”

„Oh hell, don’t you dare Violet Sorrengail,” I hiss at her. „Just minutes ago I promised your sister that you will survive this damn Parapet, and now you want to throw away your best chance? Absouletly no.

„I give you my left boot. It’s the same size.” I say to Rihannon.

„What? No, that was my idea.” Whispers Violet.

„I know, but I will do it.” I reply. „Now hurry up, we don’t have time. It’s almost our turn.”

Rhiannon purses her lips in debate for a second, then agrees, and we swap left boots. I barely finish lacing up before the line moves again.

The top of the turret is bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of my chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. The ravine and its river below suddenly feel very, very far. Every trial in the quadrant – including this one – is designed to test a cadet’s ability to ride. If someone can’t manage to walk the windy length of the slim stone bridge, then they sure as hell can’t keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon.

And as for the death rate? I guess every other rider thinks the risk is worth the glory – or has the arrogance to think they won’t fall.

I breath deeply as I walk the edge behind Rhiannon, and in front of Violet, my fingers skimming the stonework as we wind our way toward the parapet.

Three riders wait at the entrance, which is nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. One with ripped-off sleeves records names as candidates step out onto the treacherous crossing. Another, who’s shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructs Dylan as he moves into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there will bring him luck.

The third turns in my direcion and my heart simply…stops.

He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jawdropping even – everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carves, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth.

He’s the most esquisite man I’ve ever seeen.

Even the diagonal scar that bisects his left eyebrow and marks the top corner of his cheek only makes him hotter. Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot. Suddenly, I know that I won’t take Mira’s advice that not to fuck around outside my year group.

„See you girls on the other side!” Dylan says over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread wide.

„Ready for the next one, Riorson?” the rider with the ripped sleeves says.

Xaden Riorson?

„You ready for this, Sorrengail? I think Melgren is fine, but you seems a little pale.” Rhiannon says moving forward.

The black-haired rider snaps his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, then he looks onto Violet. That’s when I see it, the rebellion relic. It start at his bare left wrist, then disappears under his black uniform to appear again at his collar, where it stretches and swirls up his neck, stopping at his jawline.

„Oh shit,” I whisper, and his eyes snapped back to mine, as if he can hear me over the howl of wind that rips at my secured braid.

„Sorrengail? Melgren?” He steps toward us, and I look up… and up.

Good gods, I barely reach his collarbone. He’s massive. He has to be more than four inches over six feet tall.

I nod once, while a I make sure that I stand before Violet. To my movement the shining onyx of his eyes transforms to cold, unadulterated hatred. I can almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne.

„Aelin?” Rhiannon asks, moving forward.

„You’re the Generals daughters.” His voice deep and accusatory.

„You’re Fen Riorson’s son,” Violet counters behind me.

Xaden sucks in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexes once. Twice. „Your mother captured my father, and her father executed him.”

„Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.” Oh gods Violet, just shut up please, I beg in my mind.

„Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness.

I hold his glare, as if winning this staring competition will gain us safe entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the Parapet behind him. Either way, I’m getting across. I promised to Mira that both of us will be safe on the other side.

His hands clench into fists, and he tenses.

I prepare for the strike, if I have to protect Violet. He might want to throw us off this tower, but I won’t make it easy for him.

„You all right?” Rhiannon asks, her gaze jumping between Xaden and me.

He glances at her. „You’re friends?”

„We met on the stairs,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

He looks down, noting our mismatched boots, and arches a brow. His hands relax. „Interesting.”

Fuck, Violet and her big heart.

„Are you going to kill us?” Asks Violet behind me.

„Shit, Violet just shut up please.” I hiss at Vi. „I don’t think it is a good idea to tempt someone throwing us off, who is bigger and stronger then us. I suppose you just have a death wish with pissing him off.” I facepalmed.

His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds.

A scream rends the air, and we jerk our attention to the Parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

Violet gasps behind me.

He catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that isn’t there.

„Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouts.

„Oh gods!” In the corner of my eyes I see that Violet’s hand flies to cover her mouth. That’s when Dylan loses his grip on the water-slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below.

Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret.

„Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. „Your turn Melgren.”

Fucking handsome bastard.

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #the fourth wing #the empyrean #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #dragons #fanfiction #liam mairi

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c0smiclatt3 · 1 month

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GEPARD LANDAU: Devotion. - part 1.

"you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath."

(a royal au!) after your uncle's betrayal and assassination, your father takes his place as king, thrusting you in the public eye as the crown princess. as you leave your days of dreaming behind you, you zero in on your duty: to earn your citizens' trust, to restore your family's tarnished reputation, to elevate your kingdom to the place where it once was through a political marriage. but as the days loom nearer, your bodyguard is torn between his duty to your kingdom and duty to your happiness as he realizes - this isn't what you really want.

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: royal!au, fem reader, bodyguard gepard, friends to lovers, unwanted arranged marriage trope, 16+

Adoringly, the maids used to tell you that when you were born, the first thing the midwife exclaimed was that you had the biggest, prettiest eyes she ever did see.

You were born into wonderful fortune, living a life comfortable and free as the daughter of a duke and duchess, your father next in line to the throne. Your immediate family was not the main royal branch, - it was your uncle who was the king - leaving your side of the family much more freedom to enjoy their wealth.

As a young girl you spent your childhood alongside your brothers, all much older than you, gazing in awe as they prepared to be soldiers, generals, inventors. Your early days were spent waddling around the estate, your fat, clumsy toddler feet pattering on the marble as you toddled excitedly upon hearing the governess' heels clicking their way to the library, promising to behave so you could listen to some wonderful tale of a land far away.

As you grew older you accompanied them on their trips outside, relishing in the hustle and bustle of the seaports as you watched the merchants bark their offers for their fresh catches of the day, the unfamiliar smells of spices, the heavy, dusty crates filled with treasures from abroad.

You learned just as quickly as your brothers: growing into a quick-witted, sharp-minded, intelligent, and ambitious young lady. Once upon a time you aspired to be a governess, to perhaps open a school, to travel the kingdom to impart this knowledge on other bright-eyed young pupils, and spend the rest of your waking hours devouring knowledge in books. The maids doted on you. The butlers adored you.

But your uncle died in the last war leaving your father to suddenly fill the throne in his wake. With the sudden shift in power, your life was thrown into disarray - and as was the kingdom. Yes, your uncle had died, but what died with him was the reputation of your family dynasty as well: at the crux of the last war, your uncle abandoned the battlefield, perishing following a uprising by his outraged infantry, leaving your family walking a delicate tightrope between exile or revolution.

With your father's inexperience as a leader and your immediate family's life up to this point relatively out of the spotlight, it would take a miracle for the citizens to trust their new king and his family, especially as the kingdom was reeling from a humiliating loss at great political and economic cost -

A miracle like a young princess, wedding a well-off prince with just the right connections, just the right charm, with just the right love story to boot. And there was nothing the public loved better than a love story.

So while your brothers were off sailing across the seas, travelling to lands far and wide to really experience the world for all it had to offer, to see with their eyes what they had only learned through pages, were permitted to be brave, to be curious, to be daring... You were left to the balls to smile pleasantly and bat your eyelashes at the flattery of your long line of suitors. Your hopes and dreams of education were dashed and replaced by an education more befitting of a bride-to-be: housekeeping, sewing and embroidery, music and arts, and just enough maths to be able to maintain finances and go shopping. These were all things you enjoyed and excelled in, most certainly. But what your heart yearned for most of all was to crack open the spine of an encyclopedia and bury yourself in it: to get lost in an adventure somewhere halfway across the world, to decipher every formula that went into keeping a ship afloat, to walk through the woods and identify every track left behind by every passing animal.

Few things brought you solace in those lonely days that followed your father's coronation, for now you were the crown princess.

Except for him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He arrived with a firm knock on your door. Two knocks. Precisely timed. Kneeling on the floor of your new room, head in your hands, you lift your head, a stray lock of hair stuck to your tear-streaked face. You rub your cheeks, only adding to your red flush more so than hiding anything. "Yes?"

The first thing Gepard saw when he pushed the door open were your eyes - glistening with tears and the twinkle of a fresh-faced young girl. This was the first time he's seen a young princess in the palace. Your uncle had no daughters.

Your father stood behind him, his hand on his shoulder. "Gepard Landau," he says, "Captain of the Royal Guard."

The boy stood at perfect attention in his suit of armour, adorned with the family crest. His helmet tucked under his arm, his sandy blonde hair is freshly ruffled, cheeks dusted pink from the heat of his helmet, blue eyes gleaming like a sharpened sword.

"I thought the captain was dead," you mumble to yourself. From reading the papers you knew the previous captain, a stern and ruthless man, had by some tragedy perished on the battlefield of the last war. Oh, yes, you suddenly recall that he had died as his commander abandoned him, as the king, your uncle, abandoned him-

Gepard speaks.

"He is." If he felt bitter his voice betrayed no emotion. Landau. Landau. You realize too late that you made your comment too soon.

"I... I'm sorry."

He only shakes his head. Was he always this stiff? "I've been preparing to take this position my whole life. It's an honour if anything."

His face was unburdened by the lines of age, still just as fresh-faced as you were, the remnants of boyish features fading to young manhood, just as you began to bloom into your womanhood. He must be a formidable young man to take up a position this important, and to be trusted so faithfully by the royal guard at his young age. He couldn't have been a day older than you.

"... I see."

Your father interjects the suddenly tense air. "He is to be your bodyguard from now on. It's palace rules to ensure that you never leave his sight from the moment you step into your bedroom to the moment you rise for breakfast."

You dreaded this. And your father knew and would be lying if he said it didn't hurt a piece of him to have to confine his little explorer of a daughter to the cushy life of a princess. But he had to set an example now. And you understood that too.

You swallowed, hard, before you nodded, and rose from where you knelt as you watched a small crowd of guards stand by the doorway. You had read enough royal history books to know what came next. Gepard approaches you.

He had known all his life that to be sworn in as a personal protector of a royal family member was a momentous occasion. To hold the life of a kingdom's future in your hands. It was one of the highest honours, to be trusted with a responsibility like this, and one he never imagined taking up this early, not expecting his father to leave him so soon. In some ways he knew he was just a boy, sixteen and growing into his body, but in each footstep he took he stepped into becoming a man.

A young boy grown up too soon. A young girl grown up too soon.

He walked towards you.

The weight of the guards and your father behind him bore down on his back. They were here as witnesses. In any other scenario this would be a ceremony done before the kingdom, a pledge made publicly to declare his allegiance to the royal family, leave no shred of doubt in the kingdom's mind that he was bound to his duty. But with how hasty the shift in power was, there was no time for a grand ceremony.

And yet still, when he looked at you, watching him as you stood in the centre of your room, the curtains of your bedroom fluttered in the summer breeze in a way grander than any royal cape or train of any dress. The cicadas chirping outside, the gardens in full bloom below, and you, standing there, hair fluttering loosely around your face, he knew - this was a princess.

"Forgive me," Gepard says, voice soft enough that only you two could hear, "I know this is a bit unorthodox, but the urgency of this transition leaves no time for formalities."

He descends to one knee, his eyes bright as they looked up at you. From this distance you can see just how bright they seem to twinkle, peering through loose locks of blonde like fresh-cut gemstones. A richer blue than the royal blue of his uniform. Sapphire. He clears his throat.

"I, Gepard Landau," each word is spoken with purpose, reverberating with centuries of history, speaking as one with all his predecessors before him. "Hereby swear my devotion to you." He offers his palm to you, which you take in yours, what you knew was a symbolic gesture of a blood pact. His grip is firm, and yet in it you feel a hint of a tremble. "I bind myself to you in body and in spirit. Your pain is my pain, and I will protect your life as if it were my own. So long as you reside under this royal roof, I give to you my life in whole." He meets your eyes for the final words of the oath. "I offer in life my body, in death, my soul."

You bow your head in accordance with tradition. You know the words by heart, and yet speaking them out loud feels unfamiliar, different somehow, looking at this boy on his knees before you.

"Captain Gepard Landau," you speak. You wonder if he can feel your pulse in your wrist, "I entrust myself to you."

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: this was going to be one long long long fic but then i a. didn't even know if there would be enough demand for me to warrant spending all this time on this fic LOL b. was not about to sit down and write like 10k words in one sitting i am not that insane. so if you liked this please please let me know by liking + sharing + commenting so i know that here are still geppie fans out there ;w;w;w;

#gepard x reader #gepard landau #gepard #gepard hsr #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #hsr imagines #hsr fanfiction #hsr fanfics #ao3 #gepard landau x reader

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