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kazumiku · 3 months

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— STUPID GIRL

NSFW (crossposted on AO3 @Kazumik)

SUMMARY; Wherein Heizou is an all-rounder student. A trusted leader and the teacher's pet. He's reliable in any field—until when it comes to tutoring, that is, before he met you. He's picky and stubborn, so when he gets to know you and your adorable little mind, he couldn't help himself but take matters upon his hand and take you under his wing. With an ulterior motive, of course.

READ WARNINGS; ooc Heizou, reader is a masochist, dumb reader (i am so sorry), sexual content, loss of virginity, minors do not interact !

you have now been warned...

Shikanoin Heizou, a known name at your college. Always topping his classes, best in extracurricular activities, leader of the student board, and the list goes on. He’s practically the campus’ perfect prince, having the looks and brains to prove it. The teacher’s pet, always reliable and helpful. Well, that is until he gets tasked to tutor-lower-than average students whose grades are barely hanging on a string. Heizou dislikes teaching people. If they’re dumb, they’re dumb; that’s what he stands by and his resolve remains unmoving, even after countless of professors’ persistence…

That is before he met you. You stick out of your classes like a sore thumb, not only because you’re lower than what he’d label as unintelligent, you’re one heck of a pretty face as well. So naïve, so foolish, and so damn adorable. He couldn’t help himself but finally accept your professor’s pleading, tired of calling on you whenever you raise your hand during a lecture, only to ask a question that is far off from the current topic.

A girl with a world of her own. That’s what Heizou likes in a person, and how he wants to join that world to top it all off. He surely won’t regret choosing you as his student.

Your dorm was near campus, it was only reasonable that he tutors you there, given the comfortable atmosphere and that it’s not as far than the library that was a building away from the dormitory.

“Come in, come in! Would you like some snacks? Ah… I think I have a few bags of chips here, if you want some,” The way you greeted him as he arrived outside your door made his heart clench. Heizou can’t believe he can be this infatuated over someone so inferior next to him.

“Chips? I feel like you should clean out your pantry and revise your diet if that’s the case.” Heizou snorted as he welcomed himself in, taking off his shoes by the entrance. Your dorm was nothing extravagant—it had a muted atmosphere, shades of pastel pink being your preferred colour scheme, with a fuzzy floor mat and what seemed like velvet sheets on your bed. It didn’t seem like you had a roommate. But then again, who would want to room with you? (Heizou, probably, since he’s such a simp)

You had sheepishly giggled at his remark, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your unhealthy choice of meals, that being junk food, or so he seems. “I’m working on it,” you answered, earning a hum from the redhead as he comes to sit on the edge of your bed. It’s much softer than his, which took him by surprise, but he didn’t bother dwell on it.

He placed his bag on the floor, taking his laptop out to set it on the mattress. Preferably, he would’ve taught you on your desk instead, but he wanted more than to teach you in this session… Plus, he’s sure you won’t question his decision.

Defeated, you just took looked for something relatively healthy; a bag of dried vegetables your parents gave you a day or two ago. Usually, you wouldn’t eat something so bland like this and just leave it to grow molds inside your mini fridge, despite its health benefits, but you had no other choice but to opt for it, just for today.

You then walked to him, nervous as you see him get comfortable on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his laptop perched on his lap, with a textbook or two beside him. Sensing your eyes, he looked up from his screen for his gaze to meet yours, patting the opposite side without the books to invite you to sit there. And so you did, unquestioning, just as he predicted.

“So, before we start off with the topic, I’d like to set ground rules that you are required to follow if you want me to tutor you,” Heizou started, one corner of his lip twitching up to a smirk that only screams mischief. It doesn’t hurt if a good student like him play around just once, right? “One, if I talk, you must listen and keep your eyes on me.”

The first one didn’t seem too much, so you nodded with a smile on your own playing on your stupidly pretty face. “Two, if you want to ask a question, pat my lap, and call me ‘Sir’ while you do so. Got that?” the second part seemed unreasonable, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Oh, and third, I’ll occasionally question you as I teach, so if you get an answer wrong and I punish you, I don’t want to hear any complaints,” He ended it off, and you simply answered with a small ‘alright,’ feeling uncertain at getting a punishment for every answer you will 100% possibly get wrong. Then again, you don’t really have a say in it, do you?

You didn’t expect, in any way, that accepting his conditions would lead you to such a compromising situation.

You swore you just blinked then now you’re nearly nude, only your bra left to serve you a quarter of decency, barely. Other than that, you were bent over on your stomach, ass in the air with your face buried against the pillows, one hand holding a textbook that you could barely read through your watery vision as the other clutches on the sheets under you.

Everything felt hot, especially when Heizou slid his fat cock inside your once virgin hole till it fully resided between your sweetly snug folds, insides as velvet as your bed sheets. “Hm, you got it wrong again… this is the third time in a row. How disappointing,” He sneered, slender fingers descending your bent back to grab the strands of your hair to tug your head up, revealing your face in a shade of scarlet with pearly tears staining your supple cheeks.

“What a crybaby,” he mocked, leaning to kiss the salty liquid on your chin while thrusting his hips forward, bubbling a breathless moan out your throat as his other hand gripped your hip to steady your shaky knees that threaten to give out. “It’s just a simple question… but then again you’re just a little stupid girl, aren’t you? How embarrassing. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

His humiliating words, as degrading as it is, only spurred your pretty little mind on, walls clenching around his length as you whimpered pathetically. “’M sorry… ‘m trying, b-but I can’t… I forgo—“ A hiss ended your sentence as Heizou pumped himself inside you once more, more forceful than the last one that more tears accumulated in your already filled waterline.

“Shut it, baby. Remember, I don’t want to hear any excuses. Just take it, you deserve it for being a bad girl and not listening to me,” At this point, your head was too high up in the clouds to retaliate, chest heaving as you panted heavily like a bitch in heat, getting fucked to the next key by your own tutor.

His hands deliberately detangled from your sweaty strands, going down to wrap itself around the expanse of your throat, squeezing it plenty to elicit a choked moan from you, but not enough to cut off your airway. He then pressed you down once more, his hand on your hip moving to press on the curve of your back instead, making you arch further that he was hitting all the right spots inside you with practiced ease.

The heavenly symphony of your slick squelching whenever his cock plunges inside and skin meeting skin bounced off the wall of your dorm room, possibly even heard from the outside, alongside the high-pitched melody of your calling of his name, face contorted with your eyes rolled and your tongue lolling out of your drooling mouth, and all that. Heizou couldn’t help but let his grin grow into a triumphant smile, seeing how much he’s already broke you, reducing you into a compliant fuck toy.

“That’s it- ah, squeeze around me, baby,” he groaned, pounding you nelson down the mattress, the tip of his cock starting to graze against your cervix, seeking entrance into your womb as he drives deeper. And god, did it sting so bad, leaving you to wail and thrash in a futile attempt to stop the growing pain. He didn’t let you push him away though, one hand moving to grasp your wrist and pinning them on your back as the other went back to your hips to keep you up and fuck into you consistently.

A knot started to tie itself inside your stomach, making your guts churn and your muscles tingle, pussy contracting around his dick as he pumps deeper to bully your cervix, pounding you to his heart’s content.

Though his thrusts eventually became more sloppier and uncoordinated as he nears his edge, though before he could offer his release, you started to shudder from under him, voice hitting a higher octave as you unintentionally squirted, your love juices getting everywhere on his lower half and soaking your sheets. You could barely keep your eyes open at this point, vision white and blurry, and your dazed mind threatening to slip into unconsciousness.

But before you could pass out, Heizou followed right after, spurting out thick ropes of white till you’re filled to the brim, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock as he continued to thrust, albeit slowly, as you both descended down from your respective highs.

“Mmh, I might have to schedule another session with you tomorrow same time as today,” Heizou wheezed softly, not bothering to pull out as he just collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing you but you didn’t complain. It’s not like you could, not when your thoughts were a mush and you struggled to catch your breath, your veins restless, occasionally twitching and shuddering all over from the aftershocks.

“Hopefully you’ll make more mistakes than today,” he added with a breathless laugh, weak arms circling around your waist as he shifted to lay beside you, not letting you go as he pulled you towards his own sweaty body, a hand moving down your tummy to feel the slight bulge, chuckling as you whimpered when he pressed down on it, making you once more aware than you already are by how deep he is.

You’re barely conscious but you managed to offer him a stupidly fucked out smile in acknowledgement. You were sure as heck going to make more mistakes if it meant getting to be fucked so good by none other than Shikanoin Heizou himself.

notes; this isnt beta read help i wrote this in one sitting im so sorry its so bad and its already 3am ?? help

#genshin x y/n #shikanoin heizou #heizou x you #heizou #heizou x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact #heizou x reader #genshin heizou #heizou smut #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut

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burnednotburied · 7 days

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Chapter Three

AO3 Link | Chapter 2 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas

Note: This is not at all how I thought this chapter would start. Alas, I am riddled with religious trauma, and Taylor Swift just released the song “Guilty as Sin?” I mean… “My boredom’s bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks, Throwing my life to the WOLVES” Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. So this started out differently than I planned. But what was I to do? I am just a girl.

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There were many topics on which you had been educated in-depth but were never supposed to experience first-hand.

Sex was one of those topics.

You knew the mechanics of it. The anatomy that was involved. Its purposes and benefits. The dangers of it.

You had been told, vehemently, that it was something that should never be done outside of the safe and proper confines of marriage.

Which meant you could never do it because you could never marry.

The Prophet had to remain pure.

Set apart.

Free from romantic, familial, worldly ties.

You were taught to suppress any desire to do otherwise. A task that you had been mostly successful at upholding.

But there were times when your eyes lingered where they shouldn’t and your own thoughts made you shiver and blush.

It was the sin of lust.

The other major vices were usually easily circumvented. You could be disciplined and selfless, just and kind, modest and brave.

You always did what you were told, and you didn’t ask questions.

You told yourself that you weren’t weak; you just knew your place. You knew what was expected of you, and no other options had ever been made available.

So, like thrown clay, you had allowed yourself to be molded into the person you were today, each piece of you carefully and intentionally shaped by the hands of others.

The Elders created the perfect Seraphite specimen. Quietly devout. Enigmatic. Indelible. Untouchable. Obedient.

A mouthpiece disguised as a leader.

A Prophet.

They made you.

You were not a naturally occurring thing.

Sometimes you didn’t even feel human.

Lust was one sin you knew could be concealed, buried far below your surface, unseen by critical eyes.

It was a small act of rebellion. A hidden glimmer of defiance. Although, you weren’t doing it on purpose.

And it was made especially loathsome due to the regrettable fact that it only ever happened to you when you were looking at or thinking of a woman…

Now the Wolf stood in front of you, hammer held tightly in her right hand.

Demons were quickly descending upon you, and you had just witnessed (and neglected to intervene into) the death of three of your own people. The only person you helped was the Wolf, your enemy, who you were meant to kill.

You could guess what the Elders would say if they were here now. How disappointed they would look as they pointed out your many failings.

For once, you didn’t care.

Strangely, despite everything, you felt like a bird whose cage door was just thrown wide open.

Or a well-trained dog that had been mistakenly let off leash.

You could breathe. Unrestricted.

Your eyes remained glued to the Wolf.

Her back was to you, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. Her shoulders rose with each of her deep, deliberate breaths.

Time seemed to slow as your eyes traced down the length of her arms, taking in her strong form…

See, you knew the sin of lust was bad, if only because it made you stupid.

Or distracted, at the very least.

Demons were coming, and you had just been moments away from gutting this girl.

You definitely couldn’t trust her.

But you didn’t have to trust her to look at her.

A series of snapping twigs and high-pitched shrieks from the surrounding forest instantly brought your attention back to the approaching threat.

Demons were another one of those things that they taught you about but never thought you’d actually encounter.

When you arrived on the mainland that morning, you had been led to the network of Seraphite-built bridges, above the city, concealed in the clouds.

Nearly your entire day had been spent in the sky.

If there were any Demons below, you didn’t see them.

Honestly, you hoped you’d never have to come across the cursed creatures.

The sounds they made were animalistic, but somehow still eerily human. Like a voice that was either enraged or overwhelmed with pain.

You had been told that they were unsavable. Completely consumed by the disease and irrevocably punished for their sins. No longer even human.

As a child, you heard stories of the first Prophet valiantly fighting off hordes in defense of her early followers.

In training, they taught you how to fight both Demons and human adversaries alike. Although the former was always theoretical.

You were shown sketches, detailing the different stages of it.

Foolishly, you thought you were ready.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came running out from the cover of the trees.

It moved faster than you would’ve thought possible, too quickly for you to take it all in, but the glimpses you captured were grotesque.

It went straight for the Wolf, swinging its arms wildly. She effortlessly dodged its attack before striking with the hammer. Hard. It was dead in just three blows.

Two more approached from behind you, closest to Lev, and it was past time for you to be useful.

Lev was a skilled archer, but he was still a kid. And Yara, also a kid, only had use of one of her arms.

Both of the Demons were focused on Lev. He fired an arrow, hitting one of them in the chest, but it didn’t take it down.

Its back was to you.

You couldn’t let yourself freeze again.

You closed the distance between you and the beast, lifting your dagger with both hands and bringing it back down swiftly, piercing deeply through its skull.

It let out one last pained shriek as it fell.

The Wolf had taken out the other Demon before Lev had to loose another arrow.

But there were two more where those came from. One swung at the Wolf, and the other came for you.

You were able to dodge, narrowly missing the impact of its savage attack. Stepping back, you continued to evade its blows.

You swung at it, but the thing was fast. Your blade cut into its shoulder instead of its head. Ripping your weapon out, you tried again. This time, you hit your target.

That was two for you.

“Prophet, look out!” Yara shouted. Before you could discern which direction the threat was coming from, you were brutally thrown to the ground, the wind knocked out of you entirely.

Death wore the grisly face of the Demon standing above you.

You had dropped your dagger, leaving you completely defenseless.

Lev’s arrows pierced its throat twice.

It kept coming.

You blinked and it was on the ground. The Wolf knelt over it, hammer crashing over its skull repeatedly, past when the thing was decidedly dead, until the hammer actually broke in her hand.

You just blinked again.

She saved you.

Why did she save you?

You scrambled to your feet, your breaths coming too quickly.

You tried not to panic.

You had only almost died.

You were fine.

The Wolf dropped the splintered remnants of the hammer and stood, shaking out her hand. You stared as she walked over to where your dagger lay on the ground and bent to pick it up.

She looked at you for—as far as you could tell—the first time since you’d cut her down from the rope.

She walked over, holding your gaze.

You realized that she could kill you now. That that was likely why she had saved you.

So she could end you herself.

Because you were the Prophet, and a Seraphite. Or because you had nearly killed her before.

She could even do it with your own weapon. The one that had been meant for her.

You imagined that would be satisfying for a brutish Wolf.

As she approached, you noticed that she towered over you, making you doubly aware of the fact that this was not a fight you would win if it came down to it. Especially when you were unarmed.

She stopped when she stood only a couple feet in front of you, turning the dagger over in her hand and simply offering it to you, handle-first.

Dumbly, you slowly reached out and took it.

Her hand fell back to her side.

There was a hint of a smug little smile on her face, like she knew what you had been thinking.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” she said, voice low. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to you, and you resented the way it made your cheeks warm.

Before you could come up with a competent response, Yara interrupted.

“Prophet, Wolf! Come on. We have to move!” She held a lit torch in her uninjured hand. Lev stood at her side, ready to run.

“Where are you going?” the Wolf asked, unsure if she would be following. You were already moving to join Yara and Lev.

“Out of these woods. We’ve gotta run! Now! The coast is this way.”

They took off into the trees with you close behind. The sound of footsteps falling behind you informed you of the Wolf’s apparent decision to tag along, at least for the time being.

You could also hear more Demons, closing in on either side, chasing the torch’s light. Which meant they were after Yara.

You ran faster, trying to close the distance between you just in case.

As she passed an abandoned vehicle, one of the Demons jumped out, tackling her to the ground.

Lev shot an arrow through its head as you ran to her, pushing the dead Demon off and helping her back to her feet.

The horrifying chorus of even more of them, just beyond your vision, made you startle with each screech.

“They’re all around us!” Yara cried, moving closer to her brother.

The Wolf, weaponless after breaking the hammer, quickly looked around, finding a glass bottle. She grabbed it and threw it at the next creature that emerged from the forest.

The Demon slowed, momentarily stunned, and the Wolf wasted no time knocking it over and bringing her foot down on its skull hard and fast.

Just one stomp and it was dead.

You flushed again, transfixed.

Stupid.

You should not find that attractive.

But she was undeniably incredible.

You shook your head in an attempt to refocus as you turned to watch Lev take down another with a couple well-aimed shots.

A shriek behind you revealed the presence of yet another. You turned to meet it, killing the thing easily enough.

It seemed your training in combat had been sufficient after all, at least where Demons were concerned.

“That was the last of them,” Yara said.

“You guys okay?” the Wolf asked, like she might actually care.

“Yeah,” Lev breathed out, bow and arrow still at the ready.

“We have to keep moving before more come,” Yara insisted, taking up the lead again as she pressed forward.

You all ran after her.

“Every direction looks the same,” said the Wolf. You were inclined to agree. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“It has to be this way,” Yara said, quietly determined.

“What the hell am I doing?” the Wolf muttered to herself under her breath.

The four of you picked up your speed as the Demons grew closer.

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Abby seriously had no idea what the hell she was doing.

She was running through the woods, fighting off Infected with three Scars.

And one of them was the Prophet.

Who had been fully intending to disembowel her not too long ago…

Something had to be wrong with her. Maybe it was brain damage from nearly suffocating.

Because this wasn’t like her.

A couple hours ago, Abby was killing Scars. Happily.

Well maybe that wasn’t the best word for it. It didn’t make her happy. She just didn’t feel bad about it.

And now, she was prancing through the forest and going out of her way to protect Scars?

The kids were one thing. They seemed to be just as in danger with other Scars as they were with the Infected.

What had that one woman called them? Apostates?

Abby had done enough reading to know what the word meant. She guessed they must have broken some stupid, insane rule and run off.

Or been kicked out.

Either way, from what Abby had gathered, they had gone rogue and were being hunted by their own people.

Which meant they weren’t necessarily her enemy.

But the other girl. The Prophet…

Abby didn’t know what was going on with you.

Were you going rogue too, or were your friends just dead and you needed help getting past the Infected and out of the woods?

And yeah, you had been about to kill her before. But you’d stopped as soon as there was a distraction. Took the out the second it was offered.

And then you had been the one to cut her down.

So maybe you didn’t want to kill her.

That counted for something, right?

Abby didn’t let herself think too much about how pretty you were.

How stunning your eyes looked when they met hers.

How your fingers felt, lightly grazing her bare skin for just a second, then leaving all too soon.

And how you had definitely blushed when she spoke to you.

See? She totally wasn’t thinking about any of that at all.

And she was probably delusional.

And way too distracted, spending any amount of time or energy thinking about such crazy shit while you were all actively running for your lives.

Abby was bringing up the rear of the group, and she knew a horde of Stalkers was not far behind her.

She really hoped these Scars knew where they were going.

“It’s just up here!” the girl, Yara, shouted from up ahead, leading the way to a wall of hanging vines.

The boy, Lev, pulled the vines aside, revealing an opening behind. Yara carefully but quickly maneuvered through. You waited until both she and Lev were on the other side before looking up at Abby expectantly.

There wasn’t time to argue, so Abby went next. You followed closely behind, then let the vines fall back into place, hiding your path from the Infected that pursued.

On the other side, Abby was met with the sight of several dead bodies, clearly recently slaughtered.

She couldn’t tell from this distance what had killed them. Or if they were Scar or WLF.

“Those are fresh. There another way around?” she asked, maneuvering around the corpses.

Lev spoke up. “If there were, would we be going this way?”

Okay. Fair point.

Yara pointed to a chain link fence with the torch. “Come on, Lev. Get it open.”

The kid tried to bend the steel wires up to create an opening. It didn’t budge, despite his efforts.

“Move,” Abby said. He did.

She strained as the piece of fencing gave way beneath her hands.

“Get in there, Prophet,” she said, teeth clenched.

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You quickly slid through the opening and popped up on the other side.

Finally, you were free of the suffocating forest.

The clearing was illuminated with light of the full moon.

You wandered on ahead as Lev, Yara, and the Wolf came through the fence behind you.

“Prophet?” A new voice spoke out as you turned the corner. The reverence in the person’s tone alone told you that you were dealing with a Seraphite.

You turned toward the voice to see a woman you recognized but whose name you couldn’t recall. She was large and stood tall, the side of her face bloody and a pickaxe in her grip.

She had been part of a patrolling squad in the area. You’d seen her briefly earlier in the day, with Emily, after the Wolf had been captured.

The woman saw that you were, in fact, who she thought you were, and she bowed her head out of respect.

“Are you alright, Prophet? What are you doing out here? Where is Emily?”

You were at a loss for words.

Her voice was calm and concerned now, but you knew that she would kill Lev, Yara, and the Wolf if given the chance.

“I—”

Your two friends entered the clearing behind you, drawing her eyes toward them.

“Apostates,” she hissed, and instantly her demeanor changed.

She rushed past you, ruthlessly throwing Yara to the ground and lifting Lev up by his neck.

You moved without thinking, your dagger still tightly clutched in your fingers. Again, you raised your arms above your head, just as you had done when fighting the Demons. Using all of your strength, you brought the blade down above her head, piercing her skull. The weapon was long enough that it exited through her chin.

Her body slackened and slumped to the ground. Dead.

You stared down at her, feeling the weight of what you had just done.

This wasn’t a Demon. It wasn’t an animal.

She was a living person.

And a Seraphite. One of your own people.

You were supposed to be her Prophet. Her leader. Her new hope.

She hadn’t been watching her back because she never imagined that you could betray your people like that. That you would pose a threat to her.

You continued to stare, holding your breath. You couldn’t look away.

You didn’t deserve to look away.

You felt a sob rising in your throat. Your eyes began to water.

No. You would not cry.

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Abby was the last to enter the clearing.

By then, the Scar was already holding Lev in the air, and you were already approaching from behind, lifting your dagger.

Abby watched as you killed her.

Woah.

You were good with that knife, she’d give you that.

Yara and Lev got back to their feet and watched as you stared down at the dead Scar, unmoving. Like you were frozen.

You weren’t even breathing, and you looked like you might cry.

Abby had been wondering how many WLF soldiers you killed today before you got to her. If the three she’d seen hanging when she first came to were yours.

Now, she was sure they weren’t.

Because based on your reaction, that had to be your first time.

She wasn’t usually one to be especially sensitive to the emotions of others, but when she heard you sniffle, finally taking in a ragged breath, she couldn’t help but move towards you.

Abby thought of her own first kill. How easy it was to do in the heat of the moment, but how torn up she’d been in the aftermath.

She understood that it was necessary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as hell.

She fought the urge to put a hand on your shoulder, or even rub your back soothingly. Reminded herself of who you were and who she was and all the reasons why she shouldn’t even be here right now.

Instead, she bent to retrieve your dagger from the body. She tried to hand it back to you, but you were still stuck, staring down.

“Hey. You did a good job.” She took your hand in hers, placing the handle into your palm and closing your fingers around it. She didn’t let go, allowing her hands to fully encompass yours.

Abby waited until you met her eyes. “You saved them,” she said, nodding towards Lev and Yara, who were both silently watching this unfold. “You did what you had to do.”

You drew your eyebrows together at that, like you wanted to argue. But you seemed to change your mind, ultimately just nodding your head lightly.

She let her hands drop and glanced back down at the slumped body again, her eyes catching on something.

“Wait. Is that my backpack?” Abby asked, looking more closely.

Beside her, you lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“Probably. Emily gave it to her earlier,” you said numbly.

Abby didn’t need to ask who Emily was. She could guess.

She reclaimed her belongings while you pulled yourself together.

“Are you two alright?” you asked the siblings.

“Yes, Prophet,” Lev answered, watching you closely. Abby noticed that you seemed to bristle ever so slightly at his use of your title. You didn’t say anything though.

She held her rifle in her hands again, happy to have her stuff back.

Especially the guns.

Wordlessly, the Scar kids led the way into the nearest building.

Out of habit, Abby began gathering supplies as you went along, taking ammo and medical supplies and anything else that seemed useful.

“How’s the arm?” she asked Yara, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I have it under control,” the girl insisted defensively.

“Okay…” Abby took a box of ammo from a cabinet. “Grab any supplies you find.”

“We can’t touch this stuff. It’s Old World,” Lev said, like that should’ve been obvious.

“Are you fu---? You need supplies. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She opened and then shut a drawer. “Pun fucking intended.”

“What’s a pun?” Lev asked from another room.

Abby didn’t have the energy to answer that question.

Instead she said, “I’ve never seen Scars go after Scars like that before.”

“Seraphites,” you and Lev corrected in unison as you explored different rooms of the building.

Again, she ignored. “So what the hell did you do?”

“I shaved my head,” Lev answered simply.

Abby scoffed. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

The group passed through building after dilapidated building, heading towards the coast. At least in theory.

“We’re almost there,” Yara said. “Just a little farther.”

She led the way down a steep drop-off into another run-down building. One where you wouldn’t be able to get back out the same way you went in.

“Now what?” Abby threw out, tired and frustrated.

“I’m quite confident it’s this way.”

“Quite confident?” Abby repeated incredulously.

“You don’t have to follow us,” Lev pointed out.

“You want me to leave you three out here alone?” Abby shot back.

Your response was an immediate and insistent, almost panicked, “No!”

Everyone else turned to you, surprised.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Lev offered.

Abby found the front doors, but they were held firmly closed by a metal gate on the outside.

Above the door was a large opening, too high for Abby to pull herself out of, but not too high for someone to climb through with a boost.

“If you get us through there, we’ll open the gate,” Lev said.

Abby remembered again that these were Scars she was dealing with. And like hell was she going to boost you all up to safety just so you could leave her stranded here.

“Get them out,” you said, as if you could read her mind. “I’ll stay with you.”

Lev started to protest but stopped after one shake of your head.

Abby nodded. “Okay. Come on.”

He gave you one last look before walking over to her, stepping into her open hands and pulling himself through the opening.

“Your turn.” Abby looked at Yara. “Watch that arm.” She carefully helped the injured girl maneuver up and out.

The all too familiar shriek of Infected sounded off behind you, coming from deeper in the building.

On the other side of the doors, Lev pushed at the gate. It wouldn’t budge.

“The gate’s stuck!”

“Fuck! Hurry up!” Abby looked back and forth between the door and the direction the Infected were coming from.

“We’ll look for another way!” Yara said, and the two of them disappeared from view.

Abby tried to stay calm and prepared herself for the inevitable fight.

“They’re not going to leave me,” you said, drawing her attention. You held your knife at the ready, rolling your shoulders back.

She didn’t respond, not sure if she believed you.

“They won’t,” you reiterated.

“I hope you’re right, Prophet.” She offered one of the weapons from her stash. “You ever shot a gun before?”

You shook your head but accepted the firearm anyway.

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

What Abby hoped would only be a few Infected turned out to be an entire horde. Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and even a couple Shamblers.

You were fighting them off like a champ.

Seriously. She was impressed.

You’d kept the gun, watched her rushed demonstration on how to operate it, but ultimately chose to primarily stick with the dagger.

Both of you had been fighting for several minutes as you moved through the building. No sign of the other two Scars. Abby had pretty much resigned herself to needing to find her own way out.

She cleared the room she was in, lowering her weapon to take a breather.

You were in the next room, and it sounded like you had cleared that one out too.

The only warning Abby had before she felt the blow was you urgently shouting, “Wolf!”

A Stalker that she failed to notice had her pinned to the ground, knocking her rifle from her grip in the process.

It reared its head back as Abby struggled, fighting to get it off her.

A gunshot rang out, and the Infected slumped, lifeless.

She shoved it off her and sat up to see you standing there, borrowed gun still aimed and ready.

“Good girl!” Abby exclaimed, beaming up at you from where she sat on the floor.

Wait.

What the fuck?

She meant to say “good job”…

Actually, she hadn’t meant to say anything.

You lowered the weapon. Based on the look on your face, you were just as taken aback by her use of those words as Abby was. Although, she managed to keep it from showing on her face. Mostly.

She stood quickly and fumbled through a recovery. “Good shot. That was—I mean—It was a good… A good shot. Good job.”

You smiled softly at Abby’s obvious display of nerves, walking over to where her rifle had fallen when she was attacked.

You picked it up and returned it to her.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” you said, mimicking the teasing tone Abby had used when she said those same words to you earlier that night.

She made a face. Something that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement.

“Prophet! Over here!” came Lev’s quiet voice from the next room.

You shot Abby an I told you so look before the two of you ran after the sound.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When Yara collapsed, the Wolf picked her up and carried her.

You listened as she quietly comforted your dear friend, encouraging her to keep breathing and promising to find somewhere to rest soon.

Your heart felt soft for her in that moment.

Or maybe you were just exhausted.

Lev led the group with you in the back, gun drawn and alert to the best of your current abilities.

You entered a clearing, full of enormous metal boxes and small, raised buildings. All things from the Old World that you had never seen before and didn’t have words for.

The Wolf instructed Lev to start checking the doors of all the small buildings. It took a few tries before he found one that was open.

The inside was in noticeably better shape than any other structure you’d seen on the mainland, with a few simple, fully intact pieces of furniture.

You watched as the Wolf moved through the first small room and into the second, carefully setting Yara down on the couch. She went over to the windows, checking again to make sure the four of you hadn’t been followed.

When Yara began to slowly remove her overshirt, you were quick to help, being especially careful with her injured arm.

It was swollen and bright red from her elbow down to her fingertips, visibly mangled. You had to bite back a gasp.

Lev stood on the other side of the room, a horribly worried expression on his face.

It wouldn’t be helpful for you to panic now.

“Hey,” you said to him, light and encouraging, drawing his gaze to you and away from his hurt older sister. “It just needs to be set. Okay?”

You turned your eyes to the Wolf who was still hovering by the window. “You know how to do that?”

The face she made confirmed what you already knew. Yara needed much more than just for the arm to be set.

Still, the Wolf walked over, instructing Lev to cut the discarded overshirt into strips and telling Yara to lean back.

You helped her, kneeling on the floor by the side of the couch where her head lay, ready to assist in any way you could.

“I’m gonna move it, okay?” said the Wolf.

“Okay.”

They were both speaking so softly.

“You ready?” she asked.

Yara nodded, reaching her uninjured hand out for one of yours. You held it, letting her squeeze as tightly as she needed to.

The crunching noise the arm made as it was set nearly made you sick.

Yara let out a series of pained noises, panting and grunting. You used your free hand to gently brush the loose strands of her hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears.

You whispered that the worst was over, and that she would be okay now.

You didn’t know if that was true, but you hoped it comforted her a little.

The Wolf broke a leg off a wooden chair, took the newly cut strips of fabric that Lev offered, and went to work bracing the newly-set arm, using the chair leg as a splint.

Yara watched the Wolf’s face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The Wolf secured the last piece of cloth before she answered, meeting Yara’s gaze.

“Abby,” she said.

She stood, looking to Lev and then to you.

“I should go,” the Wolf—Abby—said.

You stood too, to walk her out.

Lev quickly filled in the space that you left, kneeling the same spot and taking Yara’s waiting hand in his.

Abby grabbed her backpack and followed you into the first room, toward the door.

You paused, turning to face her.

“Are you—” You wanted to ask where she was going. What she would do next. Really, if you were being honest, you didn’t want her to go at all.

But you didn’t have the right to ask for any of those things, so instead you went with, “Are you okay?”

You gestured to your neck, meaning to indicate the dark, noose-shaped bruises that circled her own throat.

It felt like so long ago that she’d been hanging in front of you, unfortunate to find herself on the wrong end of your dagger. But, realistically, only a couple of hours had gone by.

She cleared her throat, her own fingers instinctively ghosting over the marks.

“Oh umm… Yeah. It’ll be fine.” She waited a beat before adding, “Thanks for cutting me down.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, considering it was technically your fault she needed to be cut down in the first place.

You settled on a nod and a tight smile.

She turned to go, twisting the doorhandle and stepping back out into the rain.

Before you could close the door behind her, she looked back and said, “This area gets a lot of traffic. Whatever shape she’s in…” Abby leaned closer, hand on the door frame, “You need to get out of here by tomorrow.”

Again, you nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer before she turned and walked down the steps.

You shut and locked the door.

----------------------------------------------------------------

As Abby walked away from the office trailer, she couldn’t help the images that came to mind.

She kept envisioning you and Lev and Yara, dead.

Hanged and gutted by the Scars.

Or shot by the WLF.

Or ripped to shreds by Infected.

She had real responsibilities. A friend to look for. A whole community counting on her.

She had a war to get back to.

But if she left now, would she always wonder about what happened to you?

The urge to stay near you—to protect you—was so overwhelming. She didn’t know where it was coming from or what she should do with it.

You were not safe, but she knew you were much safer with her.

Isaac had warned her that the first Scar Prophet had been able to make even the most dedicated soldiers turn on a dime. He said that with just a few carefully chosen words, she could make a person question where their loyalties lied.

It had seemed so ridiculous just that morning, but now you were doing the same thing to Abby.

You were in her head.

But this didn’t feel like manipulation.

She didn’t know what it was that drew her to you, but it felt real. Natural. And entirely unintentional.

Or maybe she was reading you all wrong, and you really were a master manipulator.

Abby needed to make a decision. Because she was currently standing still in the pouring rain with the trailer still in view.

She chose to trust her gut.

And her gut was telling her to turn around. To stay with you.

Owen would have to wait.

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Note: Thank you to anyone who’s read all three chapters of this! The fact that literally anyone has is absolutely bonkers to me. I’ve already learned so much about myself as a writer since I started writing fics a couple weeks ago. For example, this week I learned that I DO NOT enjoy writing fight scenes… Unfortunately it was thoroughly unavoidable for this chapter. Regardless, I really hope it was interesting to read, and I’m looking forward to fleshing out the relationship between Abby and my reader more and more!

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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melinoelliones · 7 months

Text

Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course. You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think” Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly.

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

#vincent phantomhive #Vincent Phantomhive x Reader #Vincent Phantomhive smut #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader smut #Vincent Phantomhive x reader smut #black butler x reader smut #melinoelkinktober23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #meli noel work's

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nocturn-warrior · 16 days

Text

Fall onto him like a pillow

Alucard x reader

Summary: Alucard feels sad and you decide to chill him up

Rating: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: oral (male receiving), mentions of traumas, feeding (in a non kinky way), body worship (male receiving), kinda sub Alucard, reader's gender is not specified but i wrote this thinking about a female

This fic was inspired by @kundool 's adorable fanart

sorry if it has a bad writting, i literally lost all my progress because tumblr didn't save it and posted the incomplete fanfic.

It was a normal fall grey sort of day. You and Alucard had bought some groceries at the village. Even though the villagers insisted in giving their products freely to you two after all you and your friends have done for them, Alucard felt it was not fair to simply accept the groceries they put they worked so hard during the year. So Alucard and you would always bring them old itens that were only accumulating mold and memories.

All was well, so far. He greeted the old ladies, played with the orphans who became your children at heart and happilly chose the groceries in the wooden boxes.

But comming back home as you were sniffling a wild rose you have picked from a bush and rambling about funny events and gossips the old ladies have told you during your brief statement, you noticed Alucard stood stoic and silent, just answering your words with quick chuckles, not continuing the conversation and keeping his head bowed down

Usually he would connect your thoughts with his, adding something quirky or an accid comment about the situation, but not today.

"Adrian? Is everything alright?"

You ask, slowing your pace and making him look at you. He takes some seconds to answer a languid "yes, i am just mentally tired". He wasn't alright, you knew. You don't insist, though. Just follow your way towards the castle, trying to pull a true smile from his face but the results are the same.

The wide doors of the castle open as you two approach and close once you are inside. Alucard's behavior is more of the same; he helps you to place the groceries at the kitchen, but remains silent. A deep breath leaves his mouth before he turns towards the door.

"I am going to read a bit, my dear."

Although you wanted to comfort him, respecting Alucard's alone moments was something you tried your best to do. He isn't a child, after all. But you can't resist to the urge of comforting your lover.

"Adrian, here..."

You say, placing the wild rose you've collected behind his ear. You caress his chin:

"If you need me, i am here, alright?"

He smiles understandably before desappearing in the dark hallways of your home way to your chambers.

The hours pass by. You distract yourself sewing some torn spots in your clothes you don't even notice sun is starting to set. You must have dozed off.

Immediatly, your mind goes to Alucard. You fear his isolation was a form of asking for your comfort amd you just left him alone with his thoughts.

Quickly climbing up the almost infinite stairs, you reach your bedroom and before you could even thump your finger onto the door, you hear that unmistakable sniffling you've heard so many times before.

He hated when you saw him like that, no matter if you have already done it one million times. But you had to comfort him.

The dhampir who was knealing down in front of the bed, face buried in the plush cushion, has a little jumpscare when you sudden open the door and quickly wipes away the tears with the loose silk of his shirt. As if a simple motion could hide he was crying for hours.

"Aw, Adrian my love..."

You rush to him, knealing down by his side and placing caressing his back softly as he tries to put himself together. Adrian didn't know why exactly he was crying so no words could possibly leave his throat. It was only a deep, rooted feeling of dispair and grief.

All he did was turn to you, swallowing his tears before they could drown him. In moments like these, all he craved was your touch. You open your arms to him and Adrian quickly attaches himself onto your body, head resting against your chest as he sniffles looking at an empty spot of the room.

While caressing his back in soothing motions like a mother calming down a sobbing baby, you have an idea of how you could calm him down: cooking his favorite treat; strawberry muffins filled with jam, and a nice cup of chamomille tea.

You wait until he has completly calmed down so you could pull off from the hug and prepare the little surprise for your lover.

"You wet all my shirt with your tears, my love. Do you have a water dam behind those pretty eyes of yours?"

You joke to make sure he is completly fine and you can feel the vibrations of his chuckling as he is still with his head against your bosom. Slowly you pull off and tilt up his chin:

"Take some bath, my love. Dress a comfortable nightgown, get cozy in bed and wait for me. I will prepare something that will chill you up"

Curiously, Alucard nods his head, looking at you with those dewy amber eyes which long lashes are glued due to the tears. He already imagines what you are going to do and he would love to help you with the baking, but you insist for him to rest.

You want to spoil him that night in every way possible.

Alucard takes some minutes to put himself together looking at a spot in the room and envying it's emptiness. He wishes he could rest his mind just for a second, forget all of those thoughts that crushed him. But following your sweet order, the dhampir heads to the bathing room. He fills up the tub with huge buckets and relaxes in it.

All the while you are preparing the dough of the muffins, looking in an old book of recipes that belonged to Lisa. Your lover and you always look for an advice in this tome, cooking together is one of your favorite activities.

Fourty minutes later, Alucard is already settled nicely on bed. His hair is wet and loose, he wears his usual white nightgown and hugs your pillow, sniffling it to pretend this is your body. That way, tears wouldn't come back.

Checking out the muffins, you smile widely seeing they are already baked, and with a cooking glove, you pick up the sweet treats. The scent was so good Alucard could feel it from your room.

You place the small cakes in a plate. Four of them: two for you, two for Alucard. And while you wait for them to cool up a bit, you prepare the chamomille tea.

The door delicatedly opens and Alucard's eyes light up seeing you enter holding the plate. If he was crying you couldn't tell, but some little sniffles leave his nose before he sits up properly.

In the moment he smoothly moves, you can see your lover is not wearing underwears, which causes tingles in your groin, but you try to focus on pampering him with you cooking.

"Here"

You sit by his side, brushing his hair behind his ear and placing the plate on top of a pillow. Slowly, you cut a piece of the muffin, the hot strawberry jam drips from it, and takes a forkful towards Alucard's mouth.

The man softly hums, his eyes squinting together adorably as he appreciates the bite. You clean the jam from the corner of his lips and lick it from your finger.

"Do you like it?"

Alucard nods, his expression is no longer miserable as the one he had hours before, though his face is still puffy from crying.

"Thank you for doing these things to me even when i don't deserve"

He says with a sad smile. You hate to see Adrian put himself down like this. It took you so much time to make him forgive himself and perceive his own qualities that every breakdown felt like it all was starting again. Once he swallowed the bite, you gently shove another forkful into his mouth.

“You deserve this and so much more.”

You smile, seeing his cute surprised expression. Leaning your head onto his shoulder, you watch Alucard grab the book he was reading before you arrived and the two of you share the muffins while reading out loud, switching the narrator from page to page.

Alucard gives the delicious muffin a last bite and finishes drinking the chamomile tea. Leaving a pleased relaxed sigh, he leaves the empty cup and the book over the nightstand. Your heart instantly flutters, seeing how your love appreciated your little spoiling.

Through the thin silk of his nightshirt, you could see the pink tone of his cock. You itched to, instead of attaching your lips onto the strawberry treat, suck on his shaft until his so much sweeter seed spilled into your mouth. You wanted to drive him mad with pleasure.

“How do you feel now?”

You ask, finishing your tea. He was visibly feeling better now, though his face was still puffy from the previous crying and his eyes were still red. The dhampir chuckles, softly patting his toned abdomen:

“Full.”

“Show me, then.”

You grin and Adrian knows exactly your game, but he plays is obliviously, slowly rising up the nightshirt and showing his almost imperceptibly distended torso along with that pretty thin waist of his and of course, his pink flushed cock which head rested on the plush bed.

God, you wanted to worship every inch of his body: from his collar, his chest, to his godly abs. how could a being be so magnificently, ethereally beautiful? Alucard looked like the incarnation of Apollo and you wanted to praise that body of his so hard, you couldn’t contain your arousal now.

Your fingers traced around his nipples, travelling down to his stomach. Alucard's heartbeat increased as you felt onto him like a pillow, pinned him down on the bed and started kissing from his neck to down his bellybutton, touching and praising every inch of his skin.

Stopping in there, you looked down at his blushy face, eyes begging for you to slid lower and lower. But you wanted to hear the words coming from his sweet lips:

"Love, please"

He whimpers and you smirk, scooting down until you are knealing but your higher body is over his groin, his cock juts on your chest, hard and urging to be sucked.

When he felt the heat of your mouth meeting his cock, Adrian gripped onto the she sheets. His golden hair was spread on the bed like sunlight in a lake. You begin slowly, twirling your tongue around the pink head as your hand caressed his balls.

Then, with half of the length into your mouth, you sucked it vigorously, making beautiful moans come from Alucard's throat. He is seeing heaven and squirms to the sight of it.

You hold his hips on the bed as he squirms in pleasure and feels the dash of seed climbing up his urethra, the movements you make are sensual but passionated, and all the while you look into his eyes.

His warm sperm fills up your taste buds as Alucard leaves one last but sluttiest moan. You release his cock with an audible popping sound, sitting up on bed and peering down at him with a smirk.

Just seeing your beloved in a trance of pleasure makes you wet. He is receiving the treatment he deserves. A tear of pleasure slids down his cheek as his chest rises and falls.

Putting himself together, Alucard sits up in a swift, smooth motion. He smiles gidly at you, dressing his nightwear again.

You reach out to cup his heated cheeks, they were no longer red because of crying, but because of love. You place a wet kiss on his skin, his long eyelashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly.

Adrian then snuggles onto your bosom as your back rests on the soft pillows against the bedframe. Your hand sinks under his hair, massaging his scalp in soothing, delicated movements as he relaxes to your touch, blushing at your praises.

That way, you two fall asleep for that night. And when sadness knocks on his door, you are willing to pamper him again, no matter in what way it is.

#adrian tepes imagine #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x fem!reader #dom reader #alucard x f!reader #alucard x reader #alucard x dom!reader #castlevania x reader

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clangenrising · 2 months

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Month 13 - Newleaf

“Mama?” Fogkit asked, “Hey, mama?”

Beside her, Smokyrose was talking to Songdust, one paw wrapped around Slatekit’s side. They had been talking all morning and Fogkit had been mostly ignoring them as she cleaned her own pelt - she was old enough to do it mostly by herself now and she was very insistent that she did so - but now she wanted to ask a question and it didn’t seem like her mother had heard.

“And you’re sure about this, Rose?” Songdust asked.

“Mama?”

Smokyrose nodded, intently focused on the other adult. “Yes, I am. I don’t want to wait any longer, not when I can-”

“Mama? Mama!”

Smokyrose let out a frustrated breath and looked down. “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?” Her smile was tight as she spoke, making Fogkit shuffle awkwardly, but she quickly recovered. This was her chance!

“Um, can you take us exploring today?”

“No,” her mama frowned, “I’m sorry sweetheart. Why don’t you go ask Sparrowpaw if he can take you?”

“Really?” Fogkit brightened after a brief disappointment.

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t go too far.”

Slatekit sat up and asked, “Can I go too?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Smokyrose said, lifting her paw. “Go on.”

“Thank you!” Fogkit cheered, scrambling away. Slatekit hurried to follow and the two of them quickly located Sparrowpaw in the warrior’s den. Barleypaw and Floodpaw were with him. Floodpaw immediately frowned upon seeing them but Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw’s faces lit up with smiles.

“Hey, there, girlies!” Barleypaw purred. “What are you up to today?”

Fogkit bounced on her toes excitedly. “Mama said that Sparrowpaw could take us exploring!”

“Really?” Sparrowpaw sat up in surprise.

Slatekit, who had mostly fallen mute in the presence of the apprentices, mumbled, “As long as we don’t go too far.”

“That’s exciting!” Barleypaw said, glancing over at her brother.

“Yeah,” cut in Floodpaw grouchily, “but he can’t. He’s gotta stay and finish his chores.”

“Aw, what?” Fogkit cried. Slatekit whined softly.

Sparrowpaw glanced over at his brother with a little frown and said, “When I’m done here, we can go exploring.”

“What are you doing?” Fogkit asked, tilting her head.

“We’re changing the beds,” Barleypaw said proudly. “We’ve got to take out the old or uncomfortable bits and replace them with fresh moss.” Floodpaw rolled his eyes.

“Can we help?” whispered Slatekit.

“Sure,” Sparrowpaw said, “Come here, I’ll show you how.”

“If they slow you down I’m not sticking around,” Floodpaw declared. “I’m finishing my portion and then I’m done, got it?”

“That’s fine,” Barleypaw said with a little, disgruntled huff.

Fogkit and Slatekit crowded close to Sparrowpaw who showed them step by step how to tidy the nests, pulling out the rotting or brittle bits, replacing them with fresh moss, and molding them into a proper shape. True to his word, Floodpaw finished early and left as soon as he was done. The others took a good deal longer. Fogkit tried her best to pay attention the whole time but she was very happy when they finally finished and Sparrowpaw checked with Russetfrond to make sure they were allowed to leave camp.

“Alright!” Sparrowpaw purred, coming back to the kits. “As long as we stay in a specific area of the territory, we’re ready to go!” Fogkit cheered excitedly and Slatekit even squeaked in kind.

Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw led them up out of camp and into the tall grass. Fogkit’s ears twitched from place to place, picking up all the unfamiliar sounds. Their mama had taken them out of camp once or twice but they never went very far before coming back. Out here, she could hear bugs moving around in the grass. There were all sorts of cool rocks to look at and even some big enough to climb on.

Barleypaw answered all of her questions and Sparrowpaw even let her and Slatekit cling to his legs for a while, carrying them on his paws as he walked. She laughed and laughed and couldn’t remember a time better than this.

“Alright,” Sparrowpaw panted eventually, “That’s enough for now.”

“Aww!” Fogkit groaned. “A little more?”

“Nope,” he said, falling over sideways. “You’re too heavy.” Fogkit squealed as she toppled with him, finding herself pinned under his legs and Slatekit’s body. She wriggled out and went to poke his face.

“Get up!” she laughed.

He winced. “Hey, please don’t.”

“But I wanna keep going!” Fogkit grinned, giving him another swat to the face.

“He said don’t!” Slatekit cried and yanked on her tail. Fogkit cried out in pain and whirled around to swat at her sister instead. Slatekit wailed and scrambled away and Fogkit went to chase her but Barleypaw’s teeth found her scruff and pulled her back.

“Hey, easy there,” she said, setting Fogkit down between her paws. “It’s not nice to hit people.”

“She started it!” Fogkit pouted.

“Nuh, uh!” cried Slatekit, “You were being mean!”

“Was not!”

“It doesn’t matter how it started,” Sparrowpaw groaned, lifting his head and his voice to try and be louder than the shouting kits. “You’re responsible for what you do, not what other people did, okay? Both of you, say sorry.” Fogkit scowled, side eyeing Slatekit.

Slatekit, for her part, caved immediately. “I’m sorry.”

“Fogkit?” Barleypaw said with a gentle prod.

“I’m sorry…” Fogkit grumbled.

“Thank you,” Sparrowpaw sighed, dropping his head back on the ground.

“Why don’t we play here for a while and then go back?” Barleypaw suggested.

“Okay,” Fogkit said, “but what do we play?”

“Um, we could play Hunting,” Slatekit suggested.

“Okay!” Fogkit brightened.

“Just stay where we can see you, okay?” Barleypaw said, sitting down.

“We will!” said Fogkit.

She and Slatekit moved a few mouse-lengths off into the grass and took turns being the prey and the hunter. It was a fun game but Fogkit realized quickly that she didn’t like being the prey. She tried to convince Slatekit to do it since she was better at it anyways but Slatekit refused. Sighing, Fogkit decided she would have to make it fun by herself.

She crouched down, facing away from Slatekit and waited, pretending she didn’t notice. When Slatekit pounced, she gave a loud, frightening yowl and whirled around to bite at Slatekit’s forelegs. Slatekit shrieked and scrambled back, looking very upset.

“You can’t bite back!” she wailed.

“I’m a fox!” Fogkit explained, “Foxes bite!”

“You’re not supposed to be a fox!” protested Slatekit. “Cats don’t hunt foxes, they hunt mice!”

“Well I’m sick of being a mouse,” Fogkit frowned. “I wanna do something else.”

“That’s no fair!” Slatekit whined, “You got to hunt more times than me!”

“Did not!”

“Girls!” Barleypaw shouted and Fogkit flinched at the sound. Were they in trouble? She looked back at the apprentices and paled at the fear on their faces. Barleypaw’s tail was twitching quickly and before Fogkit knew what was happening, she lunged, paws striking out at something just beyond them. Something hissed in response and Fogkit screamed.

Just past them, hidden among the stalks of grass, a snake recoiled, fangs bared. The kits fled in unison, tumbling back over to Sparrowpaw who had jumped to his feet. The snake lunged after them but Barleypaw’s claws swiped out again, smacking its strike out of the air.

“Barleypaw!” Sparrowpaw cried. “Be careful!”

Barleypaw didn’t respond. From the safety of Sparrowpaw’s legs, Fogkit watched the apprentice stare the snake down. Her tail tip twitched madly, her ears flicking sideways now and then. She stood rigid, waiting.

Then the snake struck again and she lashed out, claws finding its face again. This happened two or three times before the snake stopped moving. Barleypaw cautiously swiped at it again then, provoking no reaction, turned around to look at the others.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Fogkit and Slatekit squeaked.

“Are you okay?!” Sparrowpaw asked, bounding over to her.

“Yeah, I think so,” she nodded. “It didn’t bite me.” Cautiously, Fogkit crept over to inspect the snake’s body, mouth open to the scent of its strange blood.

“That was insane!” Sparrowpaw said, butting his head up against his sister’s. “You were so brave!”

“I guess…” she laughed bashfully. “It was the right thing to do.”

“Floodpaw’s gonna lose his mind!” Sparrowpaw laughed. “Come on, let’s take the snake back to camp.”

“Can we help?” Fogkit asked, tail flying upward.

“Sure,” Barleypaw laughed, reaching over to pick up the snake in her teeth. As she walked, the long body trailed behind her and Sparrowpaw helped the kits grab onto its tail. Together, they carried the snake back to camp, although, by the time they reached the slope of the hill, she had given up on helping, complaining of a tired jaw.

Pantherhaze was the first one to spot them as they dropped the snake on the prey pile.

“Woah!” he gasped, “Barleypaw, did you catch that yourself?”

“Yeah,” she blushed.

“We saw the whole thing!” Fogkit exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

“Really?” Pantherhaze’s eyes widened. “What happened?!” Sparrowpaw quickly explained the situation and Pantherhaze whistled appreciatively.

“That’s quite the story!” he said. “Where’s Yarrowshade? He has to hear this.”

“It’s not that big a deal, is it?” Barleypaw asked, fiddling with her cardinal feathers.

“Killing a snake is really impressive,” Pantherhaze said, padding towards the warriors’ den, “especially if you’ve never been shown how. Hey, Yarrowshade! Get out here!” Fogkit frowned, starting to squirm. She wanted everyone to ask her about what happened, not Barleypaw!

“Oh!” she cried, snapping up as an idea hit her. “I’m gonna go tell Mama!”

“Good idea,” Sparrowpaw said.

“I’ll, um, stay here,” Slatekit said softly, moving closer to his leg.

“Shooting Stars, Barleygirl!” Yarrowshade’s voice filled the clearing as they finished telling him the story. “I’m so proud of you! Everybody! Barleypaw killed a snake all by herself!”

Fogkit frowned. She had to find her mama before someone else told her the story. She wasn’t sunning on top of the dens so Fogkit hurried to the nursery, smiling wide, only to find it empty. She tried the elder’s den - nothing. She poked her head into Goldenstar’s den but that was empty too. Running out of places she could be, Fogkit tried the healers’ den. Sagetooth was in her nest, eyes closed, but otherwise there was nobody. Fogkit let out a huff of frustration.

One eye opening, Sagetooth asked, “Can I help you, little one?”

“I’m trying to find my mama but she’s nowhere!” Fogkit complained.

“I think I saw her and Songdust going out for a walk,” Sagetooth grunted, shifting her sleeping position. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Fine…” Fogkit sighed, trudging back out into the clearing. She climbed the warriors’ den and laid down on the surface to sun herself, hoping her mama would come say hello when she returned. Sunning turned into a nap. When she woke up, the sun was starting to set. She ate dinner with Slatekit who said that she hadn’t seen their mama at all.

Fogkit was starting to get worried. She found Sparrowpaw and asked him where her mama was. He frowned and told her to go back to the nursery while he found out. Begrudgingly, she did as she was told, sitting down in the entrance to the den to watch as he talked to Russetfrond who talked to Goldenstar. All of them whispered like there was a secret, casting little glances back at her. She didn’t understand what was going on.

Eventually, one of them grabbed Ospreymask who came to the nursery. “Hey, little bit! Ready for bed?”

“Where’s Mama?” Fogkit asked, craning her head to look at Goldenstar. She had a little group around her now; Russetfrond, Branchbark, Floodpaw, Pantherhaze.

Ospreymask smiled strangely and said, “We don’t know yet but Goldenstar is gonna go out and find her okay? Right now it’s important that you and Slatekit get a good night's sleep, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Fogkit said distantly. She didn’t like this. She wanted to tell her mama about her snake story. Sighing, she let herself get shepherded into the den and tucked into a nest with Ospreymask and Slatekit but she wasn’t able to go to sleep.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Smokyrose #Songdust #Sparrowpaw #Barleypaw #Floodpaw #Newleaf #clangenrising #Fogpaw #Slatepaw

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throwaway-yandere · 9 months

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What HaPpEneD aT 10:10? (Yandere!"Gepard Landau"/Reader)

Scriptwriter's Note: I implore you to remember what happened at 10:10. And once you do, come talk to three of my associates. For now, let her help you recall what's going on in the present time. You can remember the time, but we need you to remember the murder weapon, who killed who, and the motive.

Synopsis: Trapped in Serval Landau’s basement for so long, you made a deal with the Sampo to escape confinement. As it turns out, your timing is never impeccable. Aka: a Belobog "murder" mystery. (A/n: ansy here, have fun trying to guess what happened! But please. PLEASE do not read this if you're sensitive to the topics below ⬇)

CW: Yandere and horror themes, "most unreliable narrator AND reader ever" - sam, violence, amputation, mentions of domestic (physical) abuse. His smile is stiff as a board. There’s a portal at the end of the story, your choices matter (there are 2 possible endings). Welcome to the Back Alley.

A murder was announced to occur on Saturday, October 2, at the Golden Theater’s back alley, around 10:10 AM.

It was an unidentified note. Short and crudely pasted cutouts from old magazines were its contents. Many believe the Astral Express put it together as a twisted joke. It’s no coincidence that the clocks' little hands near the theater were also forever stuck at 10:10. No one took it seriously. Additionally, a nearby bookshop used this opportunity to "hype" its mystery books by joining the bandwagon. While the Silvermane Guards officially took the "threat" as if it didn't exist, others transformed it into an event by creating crime scene props with March 7th and Stelle serving as the main judges.

Who'd even investigate such a note when the Golden Theater doesn’t have a back alley?

By 5:00 AM, that silly note was not at the forefront of the Silvermane Guards' minds.

It was you.

Sampo shakily exhaled a quick "heya, friend," as his legs continued to speed past the Silvermane Guards, who were all very much ready to fire. The merchanr was forced to inhale sharply and slightly elevate his voice as he worriedly fixed his attention on his 'package.'

"Y-You're good, aren't you?"

Inside the shopping cart (who knows where he got that) he had been pushing was a wanted person. A bit feverish, you nodded without much commitment. Even the slightest movements relieved the dubious merchant as he picked up the pace, avoiding the stray "warning" shots that were fired near.

Today, you didn't awaken in the house where you were held captive. There were no mechanical noises or loud drilling. However, your morning did begin with your flesh awkwardly molding against the metal grid patterns of the shopping cart. There was no complaining when you realized it was your old friend Sampo who had carried and set you down. You didn't even consider asking this man where he was taking you.

Days earlier, he had paid you a covert visit and explained his strategy. So you concluded that he was the one who made the "false" murder announcement public. He also implied that little Hook made the note. Your gut tells you that even while it makes sense to assume that she is the author of that absurd announcement, it doesn't seem to be the truth. But at that point, your fears of being tubed with immoral equipment vanished and you felt gratitude rather than alarm. Not that you'd ever figure out that I made it, anyways.

"S-Sampo…" You groaned, not moving from your position as your friend fished out his homemade bombs from his pocket. "W-Where are you taking me…?"

Anywhere is better than her basement.

"To Nat, of course!" You needn't tilt your head to know that he was smiling wide. "Is there any other doctor more reliable than Miss Natasha?"

You'd insensitively joke about Vache Harrower, but your strength betrays you. Not like he'd give you a chance to drop some smart-alecks when he timed his bombs right.

Just a few short seconds after, your best friend rolled his smoke bombs on the floor and made a larger dash. You heard a tremendous boom from the back, and a silent malicious voice in your skull hoped for injuries.

They worked with her.

Jolting you up, Sampo made one swift left turn and another to the right, making sure that the last remaining guards that trailed you both were lost in the haze. He didn't stop running, but you can tell he's getting tired. Sampo is a merchant, not the sister of the ex-Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Your nose scrunched.

Serval Landau… that paranoid woman and lousier liar…

The oldest Landau used to be your best friend along with Pela. She had treated you as though you were Gepard's twin at times, much to your discomfort. Even her parents referred to you as their kin.

Since you had no one to care for you as a child, the Landaus happily raised you. Had you not rejected their offers for adoption, your life certainly wouldn't be where it is now.

Back "home", Serval would make suggestions that you were more of a Landau than she’d ever be. In turn, you’d cock your head and look unamused. Then act more like one, you’d reply. Yet these forceful encouragements do not reach her.

Even when you beg her to let you out of the house, she won’t let you.

We’ve been over this before, she’d reply. I can’t let you out on your own. You’re missing your right leg, what if that man finds you?

You’ve never understood that logic. Who was she referring to, your old boss?

Her brother died a year ago.

You once liked him. You'd even go out of your way to say he was worthy of anyone's trust.

Was. That was before you knew that deep in the recesses of his mind that loyalty was the beginning and end of Captain Gepard Landau's character. Uniting men under his leadership, he sought only the best for his beloved Belobog.

Your mind drives memories of Gepard away and you can no longer remember what transpired to cause this. After all, you undoubtedly considered Serval and Lynx to be sisters, but you never thought of him as a brother. You can't exactly pinpoint why you treated him like that since the very beginning.

Based on your shattered memories, you were stripped away of your position as his aide. Serval claimed it was because you didn't harbor traits of self-preservation. She made a show of how unreliable you were on the field, that you were hysterical and a "liability." Their relentless critique went on for half an hour until the higher-ups had given in to her demands.

Worse, they permitted her to surveil your movements 24/7. Using your amputated leg as an excuse, she effectively put you on house arrest– not your home, but hers. She's not an effective caretaker either, despite her attempts. Serval's use of transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation is far more brutal than what a normal practitioner would do, but no one can hear your complaints except for Molly. Her tests are never comfortable. And you loathe this.

She acted like your loss of a leg turned you into damaged goods that only the siblings can see value in. That her giving you a prosthetic was a sign of love rather than a shackle.

They said you were “hysterical”, and that you should be forgiven for whatever sin you’ve committed.

Insulting.

Insulting. Insulting. Insulting.

"H-How closer are we to the underground?" You gripped the cart, your heart racing at the speed.

Sampo coughed after accidentally inhaling his smoke.

“S-Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t change the direction of the cart–”

“What?!”

“The cart won’t turn!!!” Sampo screamed.

With each passing second, the gap between the cart and the theater narrowed. Your heart raced as this was your first experience of real danger after being sheltered for a year or so. Even though you were aware that Sampo had no control over the impending crash, you still glanced at him expectantly.

He smiled, drop-dead nervous and boyishly sheepish.

"Give me two minutes!!!"

"Give me two minutes, Captain!!! We still need a few more."

You beamed, holding your axe to chop wood for your comrades in the Outlying Snow Plains.

At first, you weren't trusted with heavy weapons. Luckily, being "weak" is a curable ailment for everyone. And the cure is called hard work and extreme effort. That, and an axe.

You were the very definition of a model soldier and he found himself incredibly lucky to finally see you join the Silvermane Guards. You had an excellent posture; you were a sharpshooter and a wonderful axeman– even your breathing looks rehearsed.

And for a damn good reason.

When the Height's economy sneezes, the underground catches a cold.

Unfortunately, that means children as young as you were had to bear the flames.

The Landau parents had taken a shine to you after taking you as a servant from the orphanage. Your captain's father adored you, even though his never-smiling voice had not once indicated his affection. Captain Gepard bears resemblances from his old man in appearance but not his military demeanor; you were the one to hold that torch.

It was through Mr. Landau you learned how much metrics and timings make a difference between an animal and a human being. You grew from someone who skitters away dynamically like a gas particle to a person grounded with instructions on how each step in a stride must be measured to perfection. Growing up with the Landaus was by no means a happy life, but it made you more keen on what constitutes "proper living."

To you, being hit by vases and chairs for failing to fold Mr. Landau's clothes in exactly the way he wants them to be was preferable to dying in the streets with your grandmother with nothing to fill your stomach other than the restaurant trash cans nearby. And you were certain you brought more pride and joy to Mr. and Mrs. Landau than you had to your parents who had abandoned you since birth.

People see Mr. Landau when they look at you and not Gepard.

But that's only because they have never seen the way you behave when it's only you and the Landau siblings are together.

“Working hard, I see,” Gerard said in a light joking manner.

You scratched your neck, embarrassed.

“Nah, I’m actually very lazy.”

“Don’t be so self-effacing,” Gepard smiled kindly. “I don’t miss anything. I’ve heard that you’ve made your rounds and even took on some of Pela’s duties while she’s on leave.”

“Eh, we both know I wouldn’t have done it without Pela begging me to do it for her Tales of– nevermind, Captain.”

Gepard had always viewed your abilities with the greatest reverence and approval. Serval was always quick to emphasize how her "favorite non-blood related sibling" is an "uninhibited performer" before everyone else, so Gepard thought this true in every aspect. You must think of this as writing a song to keep your mind sharp. You lose any sense of reservation once in “the zone”, and if Serval fell for the way your brows furrowed when penning down tunes and lyrics, Gepard faltered when he saw the glint in your eye as you pieced all the information needed to catch Sampo Koski’s whereabouts after your promotion.

He had never told you this, but Gepard always felt weird sensations pooling in his chest whenever he saw you hyper-focused on something.

Or someone.

“Do you think I can catch him, Geppie?”

Gepard ruffled your hair and your face brightened up.

"Never falter, (Y/n),” he said firmly. “For I wholeheartedly believe in your strengths. Catching Sampo Koski will be a walk in the park for someone like you."

To think that your first caught infamous criminal is your last true friend… Destiny surely toys with those who say “That’ll never happen.” It's always a fun phenomenon to write a script about.

“Walk in a park”? Try “crash in a theater”.

“SAMPO!!!”

You yelped, clawing his shirt and yanking his upper body like a wild animal. His heels screeched as the cart faced the direction of the Golden Theater.

And what nestled near the Golden Theater was its Back Alley, a place that exists on the border between reality and myth. Whispers among children weave tales that those who enter the depths are trapped in a journey of confronting their unresolved trauma and guilt. It is believed that the alley acts as another dimension where the lost must face their inner demons before emerging back into the real world, scarred forever by the distorted horrors they have confronted.

And for the first time in your life, you saw it.

You saw a fence that was never there before.

Your heart dropped.

“SAMPO!!!”

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact alongside you.

Sampo Koski lived by a particular quote: "True happiness always entails the manifestation of the dignity of mankind,”

And only a few knew that it's only 1/3 of the full quote. The next part includes: “and true guilt is the catalyst for self-reflection and the pursuit of redemption–"

Flickering street lights and unmoving 10:10 clocks cast eerie shadows of dawn. It’s said that the people who traverse its trails encounter manifestations of their inner turmoil, a reflection of their deepest regrets. Some emerge transformed, carrying newfound clarity, while others head on a downward spiral.

He wondered which one you would be.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

Sampo smirked…

And let go of the cart.

“But the Back Alley is waiting for you.”

His hands, calloused but clean, tenderly held yours. You felt ice even without a metal ring wrapped around his finger. At that thought, you blinked.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You don't have a ring on you," you said with an unreadable expression. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

You thought it was funny; he didn't.

We.

What did you mean by “we”?

Him and you?

Or you and someone else?

Surely you and him, right?

But is that really an idea that he needs to know?

The Supreme Guardian was right.

Doubt breeds arrogance.

“W-Well–” Gepard’s breath hitched, awkwardly fumbling his cuffs. “I don’t know about that.”

You muttered. “So the future's uncertain.”

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”

He gulped, realizing that you were mad at his response.

But he can’t let any of this continue any longer.

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

“Nghh….”

You heard the shopping cart roll towards a wall– must be the same one you crashed onto. As you caught a glimpse of your surroundings, you were astounded to see how foggy it was. The wall-mounted advertisement for a love-matching service is hardly visible. It was impossible to see past the surrounding streetlight, even with "un-smoke bombed" eyes.

Doesn’t look like you’re in the administrative district.

You cannot see a single familiar building from this fog.

No heaters in sight and your breath practically singed your throat. The fog prickled your skin, but for reasons unknown, you did not shudder as a feverish man would’ve. Strangely enough, you felt fine.

You tried squinting at the road again.

Your heart dropped.

... There was no road.

You can't tell if it's the snow and the fog– but there's no pavement towards the exit in sight. It's as if wherever you stood floated. It was a literal dead end. As you peaked into the cliff, you did not see the bottom.

There was nothing there.

Even if you tried jumping, you weren't sure if there would be anything to fall on.

Capable arms wrapped themselves around your form. They were far stronger than your eyelids, which would barely open. Semi-automatically, your hand reached for this person’s shoulder, attempting to reposition yourself from their hold. You can barely make out their face, but their hair was slightly darker. This stranger lacked the envy-inspiring golden allure that the Landaus have.

Not processing that information fast enough, you spoke.

“S-Sampo, wh-what happened–”

You went pale.

No.

You pushed this "man" aside and dropped to the ground, barely maintaining balance on your one remaining leg. The man has now grown to be a towering figure over you, his star-bright eyes peering at you, paranoid. The air felt heavy, laden with a palpable sense of the unknown. Only the sound of your lonesome "real" foot scurrying away broke the silence.

“A-Are you alright?! W-What’s wrong....? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The man sauntered closer. His light but lifeless eyes locked onto yours, piercing through your soul. He had dirty blonde hair and he wore a sweater similar to the one that you never got to give to your best friend's younger brother, but–

“G-Gepard…?!?!”

The man tilted his head.

You squinted, hoping to find solace in a detail you might’ve missed or so.

Finally, your shoulders slackened, exhaling a large white cloud.

“No… You’re… not.”

He sent you a fleeting look of pity before making an awkward joke.

“Do I look similar to a past lover?”

His smile is stiff as a board.

“No— my— my deceased… boss…” You spoke bitterly.

This person, who looked eerily similar to the dead Gepard Landau, stared with red-rimmed eyes. Did he cry earlier? With nothing else to focus on except for the thick fog, you remain frozen in place.

“This is…”

Terrifying, you wanted to say but that would be offensive.

“Impressive…” You gawked, slowly forgetting the vulnerable position you left yourself in. Sharply, you drew a breath. “You look like you could be a Landau.”

Your hand reached to touch his cheek, and the stranger leaned into your touch. Far too engrossed by this encounter, you did not care for his slightly hollow eyes and more than elated expression. It was the bigger picture that you saw.

It was the near-perfect image of the deceased Gepard Landau.

His skin was pinkish and his heart raced.

“Your hand is warm…” He commented softly, face red.

“Your face, your voice— it’s just your hair and your sense of fashion that’s different, and—”

“My name is Gerard,” his smile remains stiff as a board, but there's a touch of friendliness to it. “I don’t believe I appear anywhere near ghostlike.”

You’re inclined to believe that he’s lying.

No one can look THIS similar to Gepard.

And that name as well.

You don’t know what to think.

As you were about to retract your hand, he held it back in place, guiding it closer to his lips. He breathed in. His breath marked the fog. “Gerard” inched closer, stepping his foot near your prosthetic right leg. With little distance between you two, your temperature has progressively grown hotter. It’s uncomfortable watching you both like this. I should’ve closed my eyes.

“See?” He mumbled.

“Can you sense how warm I am?”

“So you’re not Gepard… Or a ghost, I guess.”

You laughed to yourself. You’re not sure about your statement, either.

But while this man may appear friendly, his eyes were a haunting reminder that some things can never truly be left behind.

“As I have stated before, my name is Gerard.”

Even his name sounds like his.

“I-I’m sorry, I was dazed,” You pinched your temple. Without his warmth, the cold bit your cheeks which made you turn around. “T-Thank you for carrying me out of that shopping cart, Gep– Gerard.”

You looked around again. Nothing to see but fog. Far from surprising.

“Gerard, where are we?”

The dirty blonde man laughed.

“The Theater’s Back Alley.”

“The Back Alley?” You scoffed quietly, contemplating on how Gepard insisted to you before that it never existed– and now his promiscuous doppelganger is arguing otherwise. “There aren’t any back alleys around the theater.”

This place doesn’t look like an alley.

It’s far too large for it to fit the description. This must be an abandoned town. Unbeknownst to both of you, way before your time, this place was called Chernobog.

“Yes there is,” Gerard hummed. “It’s where we are now.”

“Then can you carry– lead me back to the main district?” You decided to humor him. “I’m not supposed to be wherever this place is.”

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Why not?”

Gerard grinned. His radiant smile baffled you as his demeanor changed from slightly teasing to tender from just the crinkles of his eyes.

“Because I love you, of course. I can't just let you leave.”

You froze.

Why? Why does he speak as if it ever so slightly comes from the diaphragm as he did?

Why does his voice sound so much like Gepard’s?

You thought it was wrong.

Gepard would never say those words.

Not to you. Never.

As Gerard’s casual confession hung amidst the fog, a peculiar heaviness settled on your heart. It wasn't the words themselves that caused this unease but rather the haunting resemblance his voice had to Gepard’s. His voice was rich with authenticity, free of malice, and his confession was short but somehow sweet.

But you didn’t want to hear that from him.

You averted your gaze. A flood of memories had suddenly surfaced at that precise moment, including the hearty sound of Gepard's laughter. It appeared as though the dead had come back to play a cruel game. Unable to bear his comfortable “joke”, you recoiled and feigned deafness, face veiled behind an indifferent mask. Perhaps the Aeon of Preservation may have advocated for this. In a sense, perhaps denial meant safety. Silently, you begged for your thoughts to stop, for the resemblance to dissipate, and for the ache of grief to be buried again.

“Back on the topic at hand, if you wish to exit the Back Alley: I don’t wish to help you,” he smiled.

His smile is always stiff as a board.

“Why not stay here? Are you not a wanted person?”

You glared.

“How did you know that?”

“Murder, right?” Gerard drawled, his eyes softening in what you call disgusting pity. “Someone important. Someone that made you stuck here.”

“Stop making accusations,” you spat, offended by his left-field slander.

“I’m not,” Gerard said. “I know who you killed. How about you? Do you remember who it was?”

Silence.

“But that doesn’t matter now,” he announced firmly. “Why don’t you come with me? Let me shield you from the monsters.”

You froze.

“Mon… sters?”

“Yes, monsters.”

Unexpectedly, a far-off wail of sirens and static radio pierced the air, disorienting. There was nothing to be seen when you lifted your chin to strain your ears in search of the source. Gerard's urgent voice broke through your daze.

"Run."

With a swift and practiced motion, he swept you off your feet, cradling you in his arms back to the position you woke up in. He knew your current prosthetics were not meant for running. A prosthetic limb is like a new fingerprint and Serval would never make your new identity one similar to escapists. At the moment, you had a prosthetic leg for everyday use, and not blades for running.

As Gerard hurriedly carried you through the dense fog, you felt no sense of security as you had before. Something lurked just beyond your line of sight. In an act of spur-of-the-moment bravery, you stole a glance over Gerard's shoulder, and thus, you were paralyzed.

What emerged from the depths of the fog were grotesque “figures”.

Their bodies were mutilated, with their arms hanging loosely at their sides. They reared their heads, twisting and contorting. It was humanoid in stature, blanched and nearly armless. If it were not for some tissues, you were certain they wouldn’t have arms to begin with. Their flesh seemed boiled together like patchworks of human remains. They started to inch closer, their movements disjointed.

Fear coursed through your veins as you realized their intentions were set upon you and Gerard. But his voice cut through, his words not faltering.

"Hold on tight," he said steadily.

“Whatever you do, don’t let them get to you, (Y/n),” Gerard whispered.

“Please, do it for me.”

For the duration of “dawn”, Gerard carried you to safe locations. You have not met a single human person throughout the day. This was a concerning observation after knowing how large the “alley” was. He knew the area like the back of his hand and successfully guided you to hospitals (which, unfortunately, had more of those monsters from before) to patch some minor wounds from Sampo's “shopping cart trip” mishaps.

Before you could walk to the hospital bed, he grabbed your wrist in a tight hold.

“Shhh…” Gerard tugged your arm. “You don’t need to walk. Please, permit me to carry you.”

Despite your whispered protests, he rarely let you move around. Which made sense since your staggering did alert them of your location.

But you don’t like the way he touches you.

Those Gepard-like eyes lingered on you as if he were trying to memorize every inch of your skin. His actions were marked by an unwavering vigilance, always on guard for the slightest sign of danger even when you encouraged him to relax a bit. It was as if he was driven by an unspoken longing or unresolved past experiences. And you've only just met.

This time he made sure to turn off his radio. Suspiciously enough, "Gerard" carried a Silvermane Guard issued radio but it only seemed to make sounds whenever danger lurks by.

You tried not to think about that. Save for the dusty bed and wispy drapes, the posters strewn across the hospital walls caught your attention. The wall didn't have anything else notable other than those prints. They must be the same ones you saw on the streets, yellowed with age. The prints ranged from love hotlines, anger management tips, and a wanted poster.

Your poster.

Unlike the previous ones, this one was preserved thoughtfully, plastered right at the center amongst all the prints. Intriguingly, floral stickers were peppered around your images. Not the childish ones you'd buy for a cheap price, but more refined illustrations. You're not too versed in the language of flowers, but they did look like blue roses and marigolds. If only you could recall what Gepard said about what those flowers meant...

For now, you hazarded an astute guess as to why it was cleaner than the rest, staring unamused at Gerard. He sheepishly smiled, face flushed as he tried not to notice your glare. Gerard seemed proud of his handiwork.

It was nearly cute.

If it weren't for the fact you seriously don't know who he is.

“Gepard—”

“Gerard,” he corrected you in a commanding yet soft tone, ironically similar to your old Captain.

“You don’t have to patch my wounds.”

“Just let me,” he pressed on, wrapping your scrapped arm with gauze. “This was part of my combat lifesaver course.”

You shifted from the bed.

“You’re a soldier?”

…

He didn’t answer.

You tilted your head.

“Are you sure you’re not a Landau–”

“Affirmative.”

He could’ve twisted the gauze tight enough to make you wince in pain, but he delicately wrapped it and added immense pressure not to your wounds, but in his gaze.

“I am not your “Geppie” and I am not your old employer.”

With a voice that commands resolute clarity from you, you doubt he’s telling the truth.

You paused.

“How?”

“How what?” He muttered.

“How did you know that nickname?”

You gulped.

“How much do you know about me?”

You were on high alert the moment he called you by your name when those monsters chased earlier– you have never introduced yourself. Couple that with the fact that he was to accuse you of murder, you didn’t know what he thought of you.

This time, he didn’t smile.

“Enough to know that I love you.”

“You say that like it makes any sense!” You snapped.

“I know everything because you wanted me to love you, and I do love you too. I am not a shield for the people like him. I don't have the burden to protect anyone else, doesn’t that make me a better man for you now? There's no need to make sure the Silvermane Guards are always at the ready. I don't have to worry about pride- about being a Landau.”

He delicately reached out, guiding your hand to rest against his cheek. His softened features conveyed a love for your "warmth", but the pool in your stomach made this experience unbearable.

“My life is reserved for only you. That is my oath.”

You ripped your arm away from him with disgusted eyes.

“Just tell me the truth already!!!”

He looked down, frowning.

“You don’t need the truth...”

Gerard's eyes glistened with a bittersweet melancholy as he watched you, a faint smile tugging his lips. He had a look that says he knew all too well that you are unaware of the depths he was willing to go to protect you. The dirty blonde man reached out, his hand instinctively yearning to rest upon your shoulder, but he withdrew it quickly, his fingers curling inward.

“That’s why you’re here. In this foggy back alley.”

He scooted beside you. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to comfort you enough, you knew he spoke the truth when his voice cracked in a small whisper of: "I’m with you."

Gerard grabbed your hand again and softly kissed your fingertips.

No one could miss his sharp gaze. The man has deluded himself that you were his to protect at all costs. A nature that stemmed from a deep-seated desire to control something that he couldn't acceptably justify. A pure obsession that defied reason at its finest.

You know that look all too well.

But you can’t put a finger as to where you’ve seen it. What a shame.

You looked at your hands.

... Strange.

Since when were you wearing a golden ring?

Your eyes intuitively gazed at Gerard's hands.

All of the sudden, your throat dried.

You're both wearing wedding rings.

“You don’t have to be alone again,” he mumbled. “We can live here. You could plant and look after flowers with me– though I’ve never been good at it. It’d be a quiet life, just as you’ve always wanted.”

“If that’s what you’re offering then you’re no different than Serval,” you laughed to yourself.

His eyes darkened.

Before you could comment on it, he cut you off with another considerate smile.

“You must be hungry. There’s a cafeteria downstairs, I’ll procure some rye bread.”

“(Y/n), babe, where are you?”

You looked up. An alarmed woman’s voice called out.

“... Serval?”

No reply.

The voice seemed to be coming from the door.

“Serval, are you there?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down,” the voice continued. “Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

It made a sound far too damaged to be called a soothing chuckle.

“What are you on about?–”

The broken voice began to sing, sounding as though she had been clinging onto a husk of someone who’s been too far gone.

“C-Calm your nerves, my p-precious friend,

For "tomorrow"'s problems will never end.

In this short song, I s-softly sing,

You're cherished, my dear, in e-everything.”

You reached for the bed railing and supported yourself upright. Prepping your leg for a short walk, you placed your foot down–

THUD.

The door swung open, making you jump slightly.

Gerard came back, his breath nearly stripped away as he sauntered over. His only saving grace was his stamina, but otherwise fear would've dragged him down. There was not a single piece of bread in his hand. I’m glad he came, you would’ve been out of the alley immediately otherwise. And that's not good for us.

The voice was gone.

The sounds from afar now ring more of an animal than a human.

"(Y-Y/n)," he called out. "We need to leave."

You tilted your head, about to question what was wrong but you were cut off by his abrupt scream.

"NOW!!!"

He took you by the waist, carrying you in a way there was regard for your amputation but fast enough to make you feel unease. You gasped as Gerard's hold on you tightened, sprinting out of the "safe location."

"W-What's going on–"

"They're close," he whispered. "They're coming. It knows we’re here."

With one free hand, he pushed down passing cabinets as he bolted. Nothing was on his mind other than to flee with you. You didn't dare look at what was behind. You didn't want to face the truth.

"Gerar–"

Despite your desire not to see these creatures, a lone monster stands at the end of the hall.

It loomed before you, a grotesque fusion of flesh intricately molded together like human flesh sewn tight to a Silvermane Guard uniform, its form twisted and contorted while multiple unnerving eyes peered from its misshapen visage. Although it may have eyes more than you have fingers, you have a sneaking suspicion that they are completely inoperative. Its skin bore an unsettling array of intricate carvings, etched like cryptic scars across its entire body.

Something about its appearance resonated with you.

It slugged closer, staring. As to “where”, you can't tell. Each inch of its body had slits for eyes enough to instill paranoia. At least one pair must've been staring at you. Yet, most of it was on him.

Gerard.

"Tch..." His eyebrows furrowed, troubled.

He ran towards the end of the hall and miraculously swerved to avoid its axe. His pace quickened.

"(Y/n), whatever you do, don't think about why these creatures exist. Even when I'm gone."

“What do you mean?”

“Just don’t. That’s an order.” He said, sounding more of a plea than a warning.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as you struggled to keep up with Gerard's swift pace.

As he ran, questions burned in your mind, desperate for answers. His words echoed in your head, but your curiosity had implicit demand for a shred of understanding. You couldn't help but glance back, catching a glimpse of the creature still in pursuit. It persisted in its relentless pursuit of you, unwavering in its resolve.

"F-Faster!" you gasped between labored breaths. “It’s closing in on us!”

Gerard's expression remained stoic, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

He ran towards a door and pushed it open with a kick. You both stumbled through the threshold, entering what appeared to be the cafeteria, but the sterile scent mingling with the food made that guess somewhat unconvincing.

Gerard quickly assessed the room, searching for any signs of danger. The sound of distant alarms and muffled screams echoed through the corridors.

“Just what the hell is that?!” The words escaped you unintentionally in a mortified whisper.

Gerard cupped your mouth.

You both forgot to close the door.

What a horrible mistake.

The unsettling monster began its search. It emanated shrill sounds that pierced through your ears, making you almost move to cover them. The cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. The mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. Its speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

It turned around, but it also had eyes on its back.

Cowering in terror, you huddled close to Gerard behind the counter of the desolate cafeteria, seeking refuge from the approaching monster.

As the creature drew nearer, its grotesque eyes fixated on you and Gerard, its elongated limbs reaching out with chilling anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you heard Gerard’s breath hitch as you both clung to the faint hope of survival.

But to your horror, as the monster approached head-on.

Its rotting flesh bypassed you, swerving past your trembling form, and seized Gerard instead.

“(Y/N)!!! RUN!!”

Gerard pointed at the nearby mop.

He wants you to leave him.

A gasp of terror escaped your lips as you watched in disbelief.

His blue eyes widened, mirroring your panic but worse, as the monster's grasp tightened around him. Gerard yelped, his voice trembling as his fear of death loomed. Its grip was not merciful.

It smacked Gerard against a desk.

Again.

And again.

Blood streamed in his scalp.

The monster took his arm.

And ripped it apart.

And soon.

Nothing.

Thud.

You went as silent as the corpse as you watched it extinguish his life in a quiet finality.

Tears streamed down your face, unable to look away. Maybe it's a trick of the mind, but you were starting to feel a pain from where your leg was removed. Your brain was still convinced that you still had it- and that it is in danger. You feel as if your ankle was angled downwards, hiding from the monster. Such sensations made your skin crawl, especially considering the circumstances. It was not the best time to experience phantom limb pain.

The monster briefly met your gaze as if to mock your survival. It limped away, leaving behind you with nothing but a corpse.

Hours felt like mere minutes before you were snapped out of your prolonged emptiness. Gerard remains on the floor, dead-eyed and bloody. Thankfully, your current PLP was manageable at best but the throbbing sensation distracted you for a while. Your mind was blocking out the blood on his face. It did not process how mutilated it had become, nor did it care to acknowledge his arm that lay on the checkered floor.

His cheeks looked warm, alive.

You fixed his hair.

“Gep– Gerard…”

…

You need to leave.

YOU NEED TO LEAVE.

Since that incident, you've been by yourself in the Back Alley, even though you sense that there may be other lost "people" like you nearby, you chose to act alone despite this.

There's no need for another Gerard.

You followed the walls every time you had the nerve to step outside, cursing Serval occasionally for failing to provide you with a prosthetic running leg. That, and her garbage methods she calls "physical therapy."

You have overstayed your welcome despite not knowing how long you have been in this dense fog. Oddly, you've never experienced hunger in your time here. You are unable to move around freely, and worse, you are unable to scream for help, unless you want the people who are still present in the dense fog to find you.

You don’t have time to grieve for a man you barely knew.

You sighted a police station. Much like every building in this surprisingly large “alley”, it had been abandoned. It looked like the one you worked for, down to the paint job and the door frame. Funnily enough, the door was open, and thus, it was temporarily yours.

What greeted you first upon entering was a creature similar to the monsters you’ve crawled away from– but it did not move.

The still creature lay on the floor, staring at its hand. Its bottom half was similar to a mermaid's. You did not see two legs. When you approached, there was no reaction. You can only presume it was dead. Or that it never had a life to begin with.

You heard radio static as soon as you tried approaching it. But you don't recall ever having a radio in your possession.

“You poor thing…” You found yourself uncharacteristically sympathizing with a monster. The fatigue was eminent in your voice. “What happened?”

You're so stupid. Don't you think that "corpse" looks familiar?

You looked at its other hand and saw it holding an axe.

You took it.

As you brandished the weapon, its Silvermane engravings became more apparent. This was a soldier’s model, one you used back when you were an intelligence officer. Perhaps it will come in handy later.

“I’ve never heard of this station before, then again, I doubt many knew there’s a back alley in the first place,” you scoffed. “But, hmm…”

You turned your head to face the monster once more. You don’t know why you feel oddly calm facing the monster this boldly. With the axe acting as your new makeshift cane, you pushed it down. Nothing happened.

You got back up and took a look around.

For a police station, there were tons of love-related posters hanging around with half of them viciously vandalized. Some of them made you laugh as you read them. The handwriting seemed to belong to someone, but you can't recall whose.

LOVE ISN’T REAL.

I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT ██████.

“Pathetic,” your emotional equivalent of a snort was a slight huff. “And you’re all supposed to be Silvermane Guards? Guess this place was deserted for a reason.”

You hate how you sounded exactly like Mr. Landau just now. Out of all the children in the Landau household, you had it the worst with Md. Landau. Hearing yourself mutter something he would say... you're not sure how you feel about that.

Scoffing, you walked past the corpse and onto the break room.

Missing just a few posters in your way.

IF I CAN’T HAVE ███,

THEN I’LL JUST REMOVE ███ LIMBS.

Hours passed. You haven’t found the exit.

You heard Serval’s voice again. She was apologizing to you. Then, silence.

Nothing happened on what you presumed to be the “next day.” You cried to yourself until you saw the same monster who killed Gerard. It was ready to give chase until suddenly, it stopped when you were incredibly focused on escaping.

You tried thinking about why it did what it did. But it left more questions than answers.

Tore down a couple of posters. They were starting to get to you.

You think there is no exit. You made a quick mention about how Gerard probably knew where it is to yourself, but the same monster must've heard you. You felt eyes watching you and it made it's appearance by narrow alleys. You bolted.

You found another human. But he was long dead. You wondered if he was the same person children loved to talk about. The anxious man who lingered at the gates of the Back Alley. If I remember correctly, Stelle encountered this man before. Wonder what she thought of him at the time.

You heard the radio static again when you approached him. You decided to ignore him for now.

You mopped the man's dried blood. Who knew the mop Gerard pointed at in his last moments had it's use.

He looked stiff as a board. He was reeking, but at least he had a smile on his face.

You obtained a key after cleaning up the puddle.

“Was there ever an exit?”

Nothing happened in this timeframe. But you think you have an idea as to why these creatures exist.

Specifically, why they exist because of you.

How long have you been here? Sorry, I wasn’t keeping track.

You also weren't sure how long you'd been searching the town. Quite frankly, I was getting bored of watching. You tried to play this off like a maze game, constantly following the walls to your right as though it would magically lead you to the exit. Did you know that Lady Luck is not particularly lenient when bestowing favors? Your life here is slowly becoming more stale and your constantly improving ability to strategize your routes to avoid monsters has been making your adventure more of a chore to follow.

It's admirable that you were so tenacious in clinging to life in such a dangerous environment with a single leg, but it was extremely frustrating that you couldn't see this alley for what it was.

As if to cure such boredom, you entered another abandoned building. Turns out, the key you pried off a dead man's corpse fits perfectly. It was a psychiatric clinic owned by one Dr. Kauffman, a licensed therapist who received teachings from Dr. Kang Tu via the Astral Express. I never cared about those people. They're just cashing in on the occult, the easily "hooked", and the disturbed. You harbor at least 2/3 of those qualities. Congrats.

The walls are more notably filled with the same set of posters you've seen scattered around time. This time, you weren't feral enough to tear the posters down. However, you didn't grasp the meaning behind them either. You refused to look deeper, even when you don't recall what would stare back at you.

Mindlessly, you staggered inside a room. There were no professionals inside as far as you could tell without any of the lights on, just a cold sofa. You walked slowly and sat down.

As soon as you comfortably secured a position to take a rest, you realized you weren't alone.

Star-bright eyes followed your movements as soon as you entered the room.

“Gepard?”

You blinked.

“Oh. Gerard, it’s you. I thought you were–” You paused as Gerard shook his head, eyebrows furrowed with a smile that repressed his frustration. “Sorry.”

“Anyway, I’m… confused. How are you alive?” You asked. “Your arm– it’s back. What’s going on?”

Desensitized, you no longer knew what to think.

You're being strangely calm, don't you think?

But one thing was for certain: this “man” is not supposed to be standing.

Gerard pursed his lips.

“Anyway?” He mimicked you bitterly.

“What do you mean “ANYWAY”?!?”

You flinched as he took steps forward.

“You didn’t even care about me, didn’t you?!? It’s Gepard this, Gepard that– Gepard is DEAD!!!”

Gerard screamed at your face, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Why… Why is it always him first? When I am everything he couldn't be?”

Gerard chuckled lowly.

“I-I was so afraid. I was so afraid that I won’t be able to see you again– that I’d disappoint you– but no, it’s always Gepard first. Why can’t you be obsessed with me in the way you were so– so…”

He cried. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as his shoulders deflated. Gerard cast his gaze to the ground while his hands reached to wipe his sorrows off his face.

“I would die for you. Why can’t you do the same?”

You tilted your head.

“Strange, now that I think about it–” you said nonchalantly.

“Didn’t I watch you die?”

Silence.

You should comfort him.

“Gepard,” you started.

Wrong name.

“No, it’s Gepard.”

Wrong name.

“It’s not the wrong name. I know what I’m saying.”

Wrong name.

I continued to correct you.

“It’s not–” You took a shaky breath. “It’s not the wrong name, you fucking idiot.”

He remains still, quiet.

Almost frozen.

Stiff as a board.

You laughed.

“I get it now. Haha. I get it now.”

You look down, staring at the human corpse. Human corpse? No. That’s not a human. A human cannot die twice.

You get it now.

You’re in the Back Alley.

There are always eyes that watch the Back Alley.

You look above, particularly to no one, but you believed the scriptwriter must be listening.

“He’s listening, isn't He?”

Yes. He is.

It's time for us to talk.

The clock struck 10:10.

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cerealboxlore · 1 year

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hey so to add on to deaged billy, what if he as captain marvel often says “do good and good will follow” to the league, but as billy he ends up saying “no good deed goes unpunished”

i wanna see the league’s reaction to that

i also want him to have a super emotional scene where he saves someone despite the danger it puts him in and says with a breaking voice “sure no good deed goes unpunished, but it makes a difference. a small difference but a difference”

another thing i want is for when he turns back into marvel (assuming his identity isn’t discovered) that one of the leaguers (i’m imagining hal? idk tho) remarking on how feral he was as a child and marvel responding with the most feral grin to ever grin “who says i ever stopped?” and then switching back immediately to his normal marvellous self

I apologize for not getting to this ask soon enough, but wowie it has been dancing a real show stopping number in my brain cells for some time now.

First of all, I absolutely adore the "no good deed goes unpunished" motto for Billy as himself, seeing as when he is not Captain Marvel, he is more vulnerable to the truths and dangers of the world, and his experience in it has molded him into the pure of heart, yet bitter, child, he is today. Billy believes in the best in people and believes in doing good for others, but he doesn't believe in himself (to be worthy or deserving of anything good in return).

And I can totally see a scene happening where Billy continues to stand up against major threats and villains, despite only being in his mortal form with no magic or strength to him.

Maybe he's in Metropolis when a magical disturbance problem happens, and knowing Lex Luthor, he'd take advantage of a situation to take down superman with something he isn't good against. Lois Lane could be in danger while Superman is busy fighting a magical foe that Billy can't fight for once due to his inability to transform back into Captain Marvel, and seeing her about to get hurt pushes Billy to help her. He pushes her out of harms way but in doing so, leaves himself vulnerable to an attack and gets himself blasted across the room, injuring his tiny mortal self.

The pain is immense. It's worst than anything uncle Ebeneezer or muggers would make him feel. He knows that he's bleeding, he knows that his ribs cracked and heard his bones snap, but he refuses to lay down. Billy Batson may not have the powers of Captain Marvel at the moment, but Billy Batson, has the courage of Billy Batson.

He willingly stands up for what he believes in and is willing to fall for it, too. He doesn't care what others think, he just cares if they are safe.

Gosh, Imagine Billy Batson standing up to fist fight Lex Luthor. Small child gonna be roasting him for being bald and having an inferiority complex, haha. Or just kick him in the groin and run away 🏃‍♂️

As for the last thing you mentioned with Billy being a feral child, both in his mortal form and champion form, I love it. I am here for Billy being feral 24/7.

Superman: It's good to have you back as yourself, Captain. I have to say though, it was strange seeing you as the child you were. You were...how do I say this...

Hal: Feral. Rabid. An ungodly child who bit plastic man for stealing his doughnut.

Superman: Yes. What he said. If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you as a child that encouraged such good behavior and manners that we see in you in the present??

Hal: Pft, yeah, I think spooky wouldn't mind some advice on how to become a tame boy scout for his own herd of feral kids.

Captain Marvel, smirking: Well, hold on. You're assuming I stopped. I never said I did.

With the spirit of Billy in him, he gives them a wink with a cheeky smile, warning them of what was to come if he ever felt like it.

Feral Billy showing up in his Captain Marvel form reminded me of this fic on AO3, where Captain Marvel plays a prank on his coworkers about telling them his real age, then when they freaked out, said it was April Fool's. Cyborg knew though. Cyborg suffered in knowing the truth.

I'll reblog this with the link to the fic when I find it! I think you'd like it (if you haven't already read it).

#This was a lovely ask #Tysm #Your asks are always something I look forward to #Billy batson #dc captain marvel #Shazam #justice league #Superman #Clark Kent #lois lane #lex luthor #green lantern #hal jordan #Writing #If you see spelling errors #no you didnt

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lootthekey · 9 months

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Duskmourn- The Living Horror Plane Theory

Art by Antonio José Manzanedo

Hello, this is me making another big post, but this time related to an upcoming set we know almost nothing about other than its loose themes. Duskmourn, a set themed around modern horror, or more accurately horror from the 70’s and 80’s, is extremely unique in that it takes place on the plane of Duskmourn. Why is that unique? You see, Duskmourn, the plane, is not like other planes at all. Even the most corrupted of Magic’s natural worlds, like Innistrad and Amonkhet, have a natural appearance to them. They have wildlife, a difference between civilization and nature, and overall are just standard worlds with differing cultures and ecosystems.

Duskmourn is extremely different from that.

Duskmourn is just one, absolutely gigantic, haunted mansion. As far as we know, this plane has very little in terms of an actual “world” and is just this massive house of horrors, hence the name of the set “Duskmourn: House of Horrors”. What is so interesting about this is the potential implications of this. As said, Magic’s planes almost universally follow the basic blueprint of being an actual world not unlike our own aside from the magical aspects of them, like Kamigawa’s Spirit Realm and similar.

The only plane that comes close to not being an actual “world” is Mirrodin, now better known as New Phyrexia. Even New Phyrexia, a world molded to its core by Elesh Norn and the other praetors of New Phyrexia, loosely imitates a natural world with its various spheres each having their own… ecosystem if they can be called that.

Duskmourn, until it is shown further and they say otherwise, has none of this to our understanding. It’s ONLY this big mansion. This leads me to my main theory I have today:

Duskmourn is an unnatural world.

And I don’t just mean this by how different it is. I mean to imply either this plane was created, similar to Mirrodin, by an extremely powerful entity, OR has been so heavily corrupted/modified/etc by a similar entity that it can no longer be called a “natural plane”.

The first possibility is interesting, but there isn’t much to further analyze with that possibility. We don’t know of any characters currently that can CREATE planes that aren’t just some random oldwalker we probably haven’t met yet or some all powerful demon potentially.

The second possibility, that the plane was corrupted and shaped into its current form by an extremely powerful entity, does have more interesting implications, as there are hilariously several beings in Magic’s modern lore capable of doing so. This is mainly because it seems to take much less effort to corrupt an individual plane, especially if you have a lot of help, than it is to create a full plane. Not that it still isn’t world breaking power at play, but its possible. We saw the New Phyrexians do it to Mirrodin, and they probably could have done it to other worlds if they weren’t met with heavy pushback.

Let’s revisit the image that I posted above and has basically been WotC’s chosen image to showcase the plane in its little time slot on their release timeline.

This is an extremely large, very eldritch and/or demonic looking entity that dwells on Duskmourn… or perhaps more. If you study this art, its “body” naturally flows into what can be called doors, staircases, pillars, and windows. The sheer size of this thing is awe inspiring, and it is extremely eldritch in appearance. Its really only a little different in appearance to another cast of very eldritch entities in Magic’s lore that I also made big posts about.

Art by Eli Minaya

The Eldrazi Titans. Very similar bone-like appearance to Ulamog, very similar “multiple limb” design of Kozilek, and a similar “glowing eldritch hole(s)” design to Emrakul. You might see where I am going with this, which is:

Duskmourn is a giant, living plane, who’s World Soul has been supplanted by an Eldrazi Titan.

Now, you might say, “But Colin, Eldrazi’s do not do that. They eat worlds.” But how do we know that? Emrakul, in Eldritch Moon, was fully capable of taking over Innistrad. She had the entire plane in her grasp and there were no signs of her losing. She was delayed by the Gatewatch, but by the end all of them had been mentally overwhelmed by her powers. Emrakul sealed herself into Innistrad’s moon at the end of it all, clearly with a larger, more complex goal in mind that has haunted us to this day.

Duskmourn, I believe, is a world that has been completely corrupted by an Eldrazi not unlike Emrakul.

The inhabitants, who I don’t even know how they survive in such a world, are constantly bombarded by mental attacks from the world itself. This is not unlike what happened when Emrakul fought the Gatewatch. Every inhabitant of Duskmourn is a captive in Duskmourn’s corrupting grasp, and that will be central to the plane I believe. This is an unnatural world run by an eldritch entity, and the nature of it could be the key to learning more about the Eldrazi and/or how the World Souls of planes function.

I am very excited to see what Duskmourn has in store, and I hope it does not disappoint.

#mtg #spoiler #duskmourn

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bronx-bomber87 · 8 months

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Evening all :) This is the second to last ep of s2. Unreal. I LOVE this episode. For so many reasons. I think its underrated which tends to be some of my fav moments and eps with them. Love this one for couple reasons. One of them being we’re re-tapping into why Tim is the best T.O. for Lucy. Little more look into Tim’s growing feelings for her. Also their continual growth as friends and their deepening bond. I love them so much. Like I said already this ep is underrated and one of my favs and you’ll see why. Let’s get started on this goodie.

2x19 The Q Word

We start off with Lucy's alarm going off for her shift. She turns it off saying how she doesn’t want to work today. (Me either girl...) We see she has a special guest with her. Heh. It's Emmett. Dude still fine as hell. Guess she finally took him up on his offer. Damn girl proud of you cashing that card in haha Way to come back into the dating world.

He tells her to be few minutes late continues on to say ‘Bradford's chill’ LMFAO Not even a little and definitely not with training Lucy. You'll experience that soon enough and see how wrong you are sir. Lucy tells him she’s in the final stretch of her training. Just 30 more days and she’ll be free. (Like you really wanna be free of Tim…we'll let you believe that though.) She is excited to be free of the mind games, Tim tests and being chewed out in public. I can’t blame her there even though it molded her into who she is now as a cop.

Emmett jumps on the chance about making her late after her probation. Lucy has to basically say down boy LOL It’s honestly really nice to see how happy she is. Like I said in the last ep with Tim. With not being Lucy level happy. In this case not Tim level happy or comfortable but nice to see none the less. She clearly has allowed herself to not let Caleb drag her down as much anymore. That's a massive victory for her. Should be noted and appreciated.

Can truly appreciate the relationships they had prior and what they had to give to them before they’re together. Lucy NEEDED someone like this post-Caleb. Needed a sweet goober. I am thankful for the role Emmett played in that. Helping her start to move past Caleb and the damage he inflicted. Her commitment issues showing themselves hard when she asks him to play it cool if they run into each other. To keep them on the DL. Also I don’t blame her she’s in the home stretch of this. Wants to do a final focused push to complete her training as well.

We get to roll call. Grey announces today is the rookies one year mark in the program. He tells them congratulations on not washing out. Tim can’t help himself and poke the bear. Saying ‘We’ll see’ that shit eating grin of his and heart eyes I can not. How proud he is of her projecting off him.

Excuse me sir you’re doing a work flirt right in front of everyone. Look at the way he’s looking at her when he says it. A blind person could read his intentions. Her reaction is perfection. Like she can’t believe he’s doing their banter unabashedly in front of roll call… for all to see LOL Our marriage scene of the episode please enjoy.

Grey says this is the start of their 30 day push. To remind them they’re not there just yet. That they shouldn’t be celebrating until they cross the finish line. Pretty much a foreshadowing for Lucy in this ep. All of them but mainly Lucy and the SL her and Tim have in this one.

Immediately following roll call we join them in their shop. Lucy mentions it’s weird they haven’t had any calls yet. Tim puts on his T.O. hat and barks ‘Crime doesn’t have a schedule boot.’ Lucy just smiles his T.O. company line having no effect on her. Tim notices it right away and asks ‘What she’s so happy about?’ Lucy plays it off says nothing. Can’t she just smile? Tim doesn’t let it go. (Wonder who he learned that from?)

Tells her she’s been doing it a lot lately is all...Lucy bites back she didn’t know being happy was an impediment to being a good cop. Tim remarks he’s just surprised she hasn’t talked his ear off about whatever it is. Tim Bradford speak for he actually wants her to. Whether he likes it or not he’s come to enjoy her sharing things with him. When she doesn't he gets antsy like in this scene. Questions what's going on with her.

Tim acts like he can’t stand how chatty she is. When really he can’t handle it when she isn’t sharing stuff with him. Doesn’t want to feel left out in her life. Especially since she "granted" him re-access to it in 2x17. (He always had it she just had to remind of that fact) Lucy doesn’t budge on any info. So Tim starts taking shots in the dark. Asking random questions. 'Did she rescue a kitten?' 'Adopt a star?' LMFAO Timothy what? Haha god I love this man.

Lucy tells him what early s1 Tim would’ve been thrilled to hear. That her personal life is none of his business. He smiles and says there’s hope for her yet. Ok Tim I’m sure that’s EXACTLY what you want. Smh. My god these two. Do they even realize how much flirting just went down in that interaction? The banter, the looks, the cute little smiles. Look at them in those last two gifs above. As transparent as glass. These idiots I love them so much.

If you needed to see their chemistry in one glorious shot. This is it. What a beautiful shot of these two. How the sun shines mostly on her is lovely nod to them as characters. They're checking in with one another silently as they hear a ‘shots fired’ call come over the radio. Processing the severity of the call together. The lighting is beautiful, the looks glorious, that silent communication ever present. I adore it.

They can hear how amped up the rookie on the radio is. Tim attaches them to the pursuit. Harper and Nolan attach themselves as well. Jackson hears his friends panicked voice. Tells Angela they we’re in the academy together. He the follows suit of the other two. Such an intense drive to where Chris and his T.O. are in pursuit.

Sadly Chris disobeys his T.O. to stay in cover while backup arrives. This kid has something to prove and leaves cover. His T.O. shouting at him to stay back. Unfortunately he’s shot instantly in the chest multiple times by their assailant. The guy takes off leaving Harper/Nolan to chase him as they arrive on scene. Tim and Lucy show up after all the chaos has ensued. Tim pulls Martinez Chris’s T.O. to the side. Says he’s going to need to talk to him since he was a witness to the shooting. Jackson decides to ride with Chris easing Martinez to go talk with Tim.

Tim then does what he does best. Deescalates the situation. This man is trying to justify himself to Tim. Tells him how he taught Chris better than that. That he’s made mistakes before but not like this. Tim is incredible in this moment. This scene shows us how good Tim is at his job. How important he knows training rookies is to T.O.’s Why Martinez is panicking like he is. Feels like he failed this kid and is spiraling.

Tim uses that common bond to get through to an emotionally heightened officer. He's coming off his rookie being shot. He's not seeing straight and blaming himself. So Tim calms him down using logic and listening to get the statement from him. The empathy and understanding that follow are a skill that was sharpened by a certain rookie of his. (So damn proud) He's trying to relay to him this wasn’t his fault. He doesn't need to defend himself to him.

I love how he relates to Martinez in this moment. All the while he is looking at Lucy. His words carrying extra weight to them. Almost like he's telling himself this as well as his fellow T.O.. This is hitting closer to home for him than he'd like. His look says so very much to anyone who is watching closely. Eric crushing it per usual saying so much with so little. The depth of how much he cares for her at this point. The man was gone for her long before they got together. (He just hasn’t been clued in yet about that fact.)

The way his eyes dart over to her while he’s comforting Martinez. What happened to this man is Tim’s greatest fear on the job. Not preparing Lucy enough and she gets hurt as a result. If he could only realize how much he’s already impacted her. She would not have survived 2x11 if not for his training of her. 'The Cop Eyes' he instilled in her to drop that ring for him.

She had the grit and determination all her own to survive no doubt. That 'No quit' paired with his training is why she made it. If you wanted to see Tim’s PTSD in action it’s this next portion. That deep fear of losing her the way he almost did back in 2x11. This next entire scene is screaming that PTSD from that. This moment a stark reminder for him that he could lose her just as quickly on the job due to a mistake. That it would be his fault. Again.

Some may think Tim is too harsh here. He’s being a dick etc. That’s not what I see here at all. I see a man in emotional panic. A spiral really. Talking to Martinez shook him more than he’s leading on. Watching his biggest fear happen to someone else is triggering his PTSD more than he'd like. We all know even with Lucy’s forgiving him how he’s still haunted by her almost death. Tim is still learning how channel his emotions. Lucy has opened a floodgate of having them and he hasn’t learned to control them just yet.

I can relate so very much. When you’ve repressed feelings for so long, then allow them to the surface they can be overwhelming. The anxiety of drowning in those emotions comes out in one of two ways. Anger or a complete shut down. For Tim anger is an old friend of his. He can’t seem to tamp down how this situation is making him feel.

Nor does he know how to deal with why it is. So he sees a small mistake she makes and lashes out. His current anxiety is manifesting into anger right now. His fear taking a life of it's own. Losing it on her over something he wouldn't necessarily been happy about but not to this current level of anger.

He is panicking because after the final 30 days elapses he won’t be by her side to protect her anymore. Its a harsh reality he isn't handling too well right now. Rios being shot bringing that into sharp focus. That this could happen to her without him there to guide her. So naturally he’s going to be hard on her especially in this moment. His way of controlling it and his emotions. He just watched a rookie get fatally shot and carted off to hospital due to a small error in judgement.

All those emotions and all that panic are coming through in spades in this moment. Tim isn’t handling his emotions about potentially losing her well. It more than shows in this scene. If he was trying to hold his emotional cards close to his chest about Lucy in this scene he failed miserably. It comes out when he asks her if she wants to end up like Rios? Showing his hand so much in this scene emotionally.

Now Emmett making the mistake of trying to intervene bites him in the ass badly. It’s bad for a couple reasons. The road to hell is paved with good intentions as they say. Reason one it was a terrible idea. Don’t get between Tim and his person. Emmett caught an emotionally exposed Tim and ran into an actual buzz saw doing this. Today was the WRONG day to interfere with him. Not gonna lie I do love Tim going all alpha on him. Saying she’s HIS boot. Destroying Emmett completely asking if 'He's got it? Before walking away.

Second reason it was not his best idea. Lucy. I adore her telling Emmett she didn’t need him to save her. Damn right you don’t. She is capable of defending herself especially with Tim. That's one of her super powers really. It was more embarrassing for Lucy he tried to step in to "protect" her. Not only that but mess with her work dynamic with Tim. She asked him to be cool at work and he wasn’t. Lucy makes sure he knows that before she takes off herself. She isn't a damsel in distress and lets him know. Leaving Emmett stunned.

Nolan and Harper get a finger print ID off the ditched car they pursued. They’re gearing up to break into Serj Derain's. Tim knows Lucy is shaken up for multiple reasons. Her friend Chris being shot, Him chewing her out and her mini fight with Emmett. He is always thinking of her first even when he doesn’t even realize he’s doing so. It's second nature at this point. He does this by resetting her mentally before they walk in the door of this man's house.

Saying how they already lost one cop today. She’s not going to be another. He refuses to lose Lucy by her potentially losing focus in this moment. This man just knows her like the back of his hand. It always floors me. Knows innately she needs these words of focus. That her mind is elsewhere and he needs it shifted back to the task at hand. The continuous proof of why he was the perfect T.O. for her. Tim reading her emotional state and directing her emotions. This is his version of taking care of her. By telling Lucy exactly what she needs to hear before they start this.

Her look of understanding after he dispenses his words of wisdom to her is perfection. Complete understanding of what he's saying and doing for her in this moment. ❤️ Everything this man does for her has her best interests at heart and ultimately to protect her. (Just like she does for him) It’s a beautiful thing to watch honestly. The two way support these two have for one another. This is an underrated moment for them. I wanted to expound on it. It shows that bond they have.

That even though they’re closer than they used to be with how she can sass him from time to time when it comes down to it that instant respect she has for Tim and his guidance. It is evident in this scene. His wisdom is guiding her right now emotionally and she knows it. That when he is serious like this she takes notice and listens immediately. She would follow him into hell if he asked her to.

They get inside with no issues. He isn’t home and the house is cleared. They’re searching his home office. Lucy asks Tim what they’re looking for? He tells her anything that can tell them where he is. It’s then Tim runs across some disturbing info. Confidential Police files on the Derian’s. Makes sense why nothing has stuck to them now. Someone’s been leaking info to the Armenian mob. A dirty cop in their midst…

We rejoin them in their shop. Lucy asks if they can talk about earlier? So much has happened today he’s not sure what she means. Lucy says about Emmett. Tim is immediately defensive. Tells her nothing to say about it. He tried to tell him how to do his job. On today of all days. Tim says he doesn’t care if he’s her BF. Lucy instantly cuts him off and corrects him. Says he’s not. (ahhh Lucy your commitment issues are showing again my dear) Tells Tim he’s a little dead to her right now anyway. I’m sure in the back of Tim’s mind that gives him a little peace.

Then comes one of the best parts of the episode for them. In not so many words this scene is Tim revealing something. Showing Lucy he cares about her in the most Tim way possible. He voices in a much kinder way his fears from earlier in the ep. That yes she’s only 30 days from the finish line. What scares him is when she crosses it he won’t be there to keep her from washing out anymore. 'Or worse...' The way she looks at him when he says this *heart clutch* Tim Bradford speak for I don’t want to lose you.

He solidifies it by reinforcing yeah he’s going to be tough on her. That is a straight fact. Then rolls a compliment into it as well. (How far we’ve come. *wipes tear*) Tells Lucy he’s only doing that because he KNOWS she can handle it. No one one knows her better than he does. No one will ever look out for her best interests better than he will. Or will prepare her the way he can. He only has 30 days left with her. Tim is going to make her as sharp as possible. So he can let her go when the time comes. Only way he will have peace of mind is if he does it this way.

Lucy’s reactions says it all. Beaming a little as she explains how sweet it is. She knows how he struggles with his emotions. That he tends to show them through actions rather than words. The fact that he told her this means so much. Tim in a roundabout way, told her he cares so much for her he’s afraid losing her after they're no longer riding together. That he can't protect her anymore after that. So he’s going to do everything in his power to safeguard her from this jobs worst moments and possibilities like today.

She makes sure he knows how 'oddly sweet' she finds his words. Tim is trying to bite back a smile above. That sunshine of hers seeping in just a little bit more. Trying to be a grump and be like 'That's not what I meant' when that's exactly what he meant. Revealing more cracks in that emotional wall of his. God I love it so Much.

Lucy continues on and says he’s not the one she’s mad at right now. That’s she’s used to Tim. Then he does something S1 Tim would be appalled at. Gives her advice on her personal life. Doing it not to please her or get her to stop talking. But because he genuinely cares about her. Giving me all the feels in this one. My shipper heart may implode.

Tells her Emmett is a fireman. So naturally they’re idiots LOL He makes Lucy smile in a way only he can. Tim forges on saying they mean well and Emmett is a 'not bad fireman'. Tells her not to write him off just yet. That he meant well by it. Look at our boy. I’m legit beaming with pride as I write this. How far this man has come in 2 seasons hell just this season alone. Leaps and bounds all due to the the sunshine human to his right.

Lucy being herself can’t help but rib him about this. That the reason he’s giving her this advice is cause they’re friends. Honestly yeah. At this point they are. S1 finale was the start of the friends foundation but they weren't there yet. It was the beginning of that deeper bond of theirs and we’re nearing the end of s2. All that foundation has now been laid. The fruits of it are they are friends now.

Best part of this section Is he doesn’t even deny it really. He scoffs a little af first (denial isn’t just a river in Egypt Tim) but concedes at the end. The light in his eyes and the crooked smile. You know this man is happy to be considered her friend. Her confidant. Once again Eric saying so god damn much with so little. I’ll never be over how good he is with that. Like ever. Could go on for miles and miles but I won’t do that to you all haha That wraps up their scenes together in this one. SO much good content thought. Oh my lord.

Sadly Chris passes away and Jackson is distraught. Lucy being there for Jackson is so sweet. Taking care of her business with Emmett but putting him first. I love their friendship. I do admire he came over to apologize and say he was wrong. Saying she’s the strongest woman he knows. That the last thing she needs is a protector. Well you as her protector yes. sorry Emmett lol That role is not meant to be yours. She has her fierce protector already. Tim is that but her emotional protector first and foremost. I mean he would smash a dude's face in for her LOL but she doesn't need that. That's it for this one. Such a good episode for them I can not.

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Side notes-Non Chenford

Longer than normal cause the entire episode is so good. The Chenford would’ve been enough but the ep being so good on top of it I’m happy.

Angela seeing Smitty’s cam footage LOL he’s such an idiot and we all love him haha sadly how she finds out Erin Cole is a dirty cop though. Or one of them…

The whole SL with Chris, Derians and Armstrong it’s so solid and stressful to watch baha his SL was shocking when I watched it the first time. Watching this squeaky clean cop fall from grace and become a dirty cop. Tragic af but compelling as hell.

Rewatching it through the eyes of knowing you can see how much he was giving away in his scenes. So sad the ending for Cole. Debt erasure is a huge motivator for most it’s truly so sad.

Watching John and Grace continue to fall apart sucks. I truly liked them more so than him and Bailey TBH. Their chemistry was evident.

Harper thanking John for all his help in getting her kid back. That she wouldn’t be here if not for him. The impact he had. Such growth for her. Since day one she has marched toward growth and where she is now. I adore her arc and how far she has come in this moment. Such an overall amazing episode. Hell of an ep before the finale.

Thank you all for the continued support through likes/comment and reblogs. Means more than I can ever say. Our next ep is the finale. Woo. I’ll see you all then :)

#Caitlin Rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #waiting on s6 #summer rewatch #s2 #2x19 The Q Word #the rookie 2x19 #otp: doing my job #otp: you know me so well. too well #otp: some things matter more #tim x lucy #lucy x tim #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie #eric winter #melissa o'neil #tim bradford x lucy chen

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