#BFABC

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

First Date..? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: Gepard, after becoming ill to the point of passing out, asked you to go on a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum with him. Today is that day!

▸ Genre(s): fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 5.5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, mentions of domestic abuse

A/N: MY LAST POST SHOWED IN THE TAGS!!!! It brought a ton of new people in <3 hello gepard fans, this is a part of my series! You can find more in the masterlist. (Or don’t. I try to make it so you can start wherever.)

the dividers are being stupid but i decided to keep them

MASTERLIST

Gepard, the heir to the Landau name and a sworn Silvermane Guard, wasn’t sure if he had ever felt this nervous in his life.

From his first interview as a cadet to the ceremony promoting him to the position of “Captain,” his heart had never beat as loudly as it did that day. It sent tremors through his chest that traveled all the way to his throat.

He stood resting an arm on the counter of the Neverwinter Workshop reception desk, paying no mind to his sister as she milled about, rummaging through drawers of tools and combing through filing cabinets.

A heavy sigh escaped the captain’s lips as he tapped his fingers apprehensively. All he could focus on was the antique clock on the wall taunting him as it tick, tick, ticked away. Closer and closer to the time he’d be meeting you.

Serval’s voice drew him out of the thoughts weighing his mind down.

“Earthwork should be good to go,” she said, hoisting the shield device slash guitar case onto the counter with a thump.

The bronze safety goggles resting precariously on the top of her head tumbled to the floor. Those would definitely cost a pretty penny.

“Let me know if the shield deployment acts up again, alright?”

Gepard took the procedural report from her and nodded. “You have my gratitude once again, sister. The guards should send you an invoice soon,”

Suddenly, the bell in the central plaza rang. Its sound sent shivers down his spine, which he tried to shake off by glancing absentmindedly out the window. This did not go unnoticed by his sister.

“You seem a little antsy today, Geppie. What’s messing with your rhythm?”

“Ah?” Gepard responded while tucking the yellow slip of paper into his pocket. “I merely have a few affairs that need attending to. The concern is appreciated, though,”

He straightened his collar, averting his eyes. She stared at him incredulously at this pathetically conspicuous act.

“You know?” she snorted. “You are possibly one of the worst liars on Jarilo-VI,”

She dropped her wrench on the desk carelessly, and he stiffened immediately.

“You never act this distant when it comes to affairs. In fact, most of the time you’re pretty quick to pass them off to me!” Serval shook a finger at him. “I’ve had my fair share of headaches, so you better fess up right now, little brother,” she hissed.

She stomped around the counter over the unfortunate pair of goggles and leaned in a good five or so inches away from his face. Gepard mustered all the will in his body to keep his lips straight and his facade up. “Ah— um,”

“Does this, in any way, shape or form, have to do with (Y/N)?” she barked.

“N-no, I…” His eyes flickered for a second at a pot of indigo flowers behind her. Serval, like her namesake, used this as an excuse to pounce.

“It does, doesn’t it? You broke eye contact!” She accused.

“Anyone would, in that situation!” He defended himself, clenching his jaw tightly. “You need to find better methods of interrogating people than that, sister,”

“Excuse you,” Serval snapped. “I’m just curious! We DO share a lot of friends, but (Y/N) is the only one I don’t work with.” She folded her arms.

Gepard ran a hand from his chin all the way to his hair with a groan. The last time they had squabbled like this, he hadn’t yet graduated from cadet school.

He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t what I was thinking about. As for (Y/N), I happen to be seeing them at the museum today. Are you satisfied with this information?”

His sister rolled her eyes at the biting remark and wiped a hand across her brow, smearing motor oil on her forehead. “Yeah. Fine. Don’t bother telling all the juicy details of how that came to be. They’d just be wasted on me!”

Gepard’s shoulders dropped in exasperation as he stared at her. “Why are you so invested in this, sister? You hardly give a single snowflake about my personal life. What changed?”

If looks could kill, Gepard would be six feet under.

“Hey. I’m trying to help you and your hopeless love life!” His sister nearly exploded with frustration. He quickly took a step back.

“Every time you two are in the same room, your face goes pink and you’re completely paralyzed,” she said, exasperated. “At this rate, you’ll grow old before your feelings reach them!”

She stuck a finger in her mouth with a gagging noise. Gepard blushed even harder.

“My feelings have nothing to do with you, sister,” he sputtered while simultaneously going over every single time you’ve happened to be in a room together in his head.

Serval stopped for a moment, her hackles seeming to fall. Her voice dropped an octave. “They do, actually,”

Serval sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Y’know, Gepard… I’ve seen you go your entire life laying down everything you’ve ever had for Belobog. Isn’t it about time you pursue something— someone, that makes you happy?”

She paused, letting the words linger in his mind. Then she spoke again.

“Y’know, that you love,”

The air between them became thick with silence.

Serval sighed, leaning her back against the counter. Her little brother seemed to lack the words to respond.

“I’ve seen how you light up when you see them. And it hurts me seeing you stamp your feelings down each and every time,”

She searched in his eyes for any sign that her message was reaching him. But she did not find one.

“I’ve told you this before. Love isn’t something you can half-ass. You have to put your all into it—,” she twirled a pen around in her hand to blow off some steam. “—I don’t even care if you don’t want my help. I just want you to feel like you can confide in me, okay?”

She looked back at her brother, who was now staring at the floor, and smiled wistfully.

Well, Belobog wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Serval shrugged. “Anyways. You don’t have to listen to your big sis. I just think you should spend as much time with them before you’re sent away on another campaign.” Her tone became humorous. “Make sure you’re aaa-ll they think about when you’re gone,”

Gepard’s head shot up, his mouth going agape, and he quickly shut it.

“Why would I want to do that??”

“So you two can send each other looong letters about how much you love and miss each other, of course!” Serval chuckled teasingly, sticking her tongue out at her furiously blushing younger brother.

“They— they don’t feel that way about me,” he choked out.

She folded her arms at his defeated tone. “Maybe they don’t, but you two have chemistry!”

She slapped him on the shoulder heartily, which caused him to choke on the breath he was taking. “I can tell they care for you. And since when have Landaus been ones to give up?”

Gepard let out an exhale through his nose at the saying his sister would always repeat when they were kids.

“…never,”

“That’s right, little brother! Now, how long before your little date?”

He sighed again. “I’m going after I put my shield in the barracks,”

This time, it was Serval’s turn to freeze. “Right now?!” Her eyes burned holes into him.

“Yes, right now,”

She launched herself at him and dug her long nails into his shoulders. He stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance. “NO. NO YOU CAN’T. NOT LIKE THAT,”

“Why is that?” Gepard blinked in surprise.

“You’re off duty today and you’re still in uniform? We’ve gotta get you tidied up,” she gasped.

“I sincerely doubt that they care—,” he started, remembering the time you showed up to a cafe with your gardening gloves on and dirt smudged on your face.

Serval bristled at him. He swallowed nervously.

He knew better than to keep talking.

His sister grabbed him harshly by the shoulder and yanked him out the door towards the estate.

Oh Aeons. This wasn’t going to be good.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

And finally, there you were. Gepard spotted you people watching as you waited outside of the Belobog History and Culture Museum, back rested on the handrail languidly, like a tourist.

You turned towards him with one hand gripping a pamphlet, the other shielding your eyes from the sun and—

Oh wow.

Why did he look like that?

He was taking long strides towards you, in an outfit that could only be described as way over-the-top. His hair was slicked back so you could see his forehead and (very strong) jawline, and he wore a brilliant white suit with silver accents that was most definitely meant for something more formal than a trip to the museum.

Additionally, he had on a long white cape that stopped at his ankles. With the bright sunlight shining down, it was blinding.

He looked like a foreign prince, from one of those novels Vaska liked to read. One woman’s jaw dropped as he passed by.

Oh, Aeons. Serval had definitely played a part in this one.

You, on the other hand, wore the same thing you always did. The green florist’s uniform coupled with a beret (which was rather charming, in your opinion). You shook yourself off and walked up to meet him.

“Hiya Captain!” You said as he approached.

Gepard felt something stab through his chest at the formal title, but he brushed it off.

“Glad to see you’re back in shape— and whoa, you look nice today.”

You looked him up and down keenly, and Gepard thought he felt his heart stop.

“Y-yes. I happened to have made a full recovery, thank you. Shall we go in?” He cringed inwardly at his inability to speak.

As much as he hated it, Serval was right. His heart was beating sixteenth notes as he looked at you. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t slow it down.

You nodded. But your eyes darted to the side for a second, showing a hint of uncertainty.

“Yeah! Um… Maybe lose the cape though?”

You gasped as you saw him quickly cover his face with his hand.

“N-not like it doesn’t look good on you! I was just thinking it might catch on the displays, y’know,”

“No, no. I get it.” Gepard let out a small groan, much like an arctic bear cub. “Serval insisted on dressing me up before I left. I should have told her not to.”

He grimaced, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t have made a difference either way. He then unclasped the cape and rolled it up into a tight ball, tucking it under his arm.

Whew. That was most definitely better. He looked less like a prince and more like your average rich noble. Although, if you were being honest, that wasn’t great either.

And so, he showed you into the museum with the hospitality of an attendee (he had worked there, after all). You felt like royalty. And Aeons, the lobby was absolutely perfect. It had an air of welcoming in it, and it smelled like history! Or dust. One of the two, you figured.

In true Underworld fashion, you waltzed up to the reception desk and immediately began making small talk. The blonde woman seemed startled but made nothing of it.

“How much for tickets?” You leaned your elbows on the counter. Her eyes landed on Gepard, who unbeknownst to you, was approaching from behind.

“Oh? Are you two here together?” She gasped. You whipped around, startled. “Volunteers are allowed to bring one guest for free. We appreciate your visit, Captain Gepard,”

She bowed her head respectfully and he nodded. He lightly placed a hand on your shoulder, which in turn, caused you to jump nearly half a foot in the air.

Great. Just great.

“Would you like to accompany me to the automaton section first?” He inquired. You weren’t certain, but you thought you heard a hint of shyness in his tone.

Like I’d run off without my tour guide in a building this big, you thought, glancing up at the huge arching ceilings in the main area.

“Sure! You’d better give me a tour worth a five-star review, Captain,” you chuckled.

That seemed to flip a switch. “I’ll do my utmost,” he declared.

He glanced down at you as you laughed lightly at his fiercely determined demeanor, feeling his cheeks warm at the sound of your voice. And with that, you began your tour through the museum.

First you stopped at the side parlor, which housed numerous automatons borrowed from the Robot Settlement. The models were polished and the descriptions were lengthy, which made you beam with pride. They sure knew how to treat the robots right.

Next you made your way to the main hall. It had an abundance of artifacts in sturdy glass cabinets, and beautifully intricate paintings that stole your breath away.

Gepard made sure to narrate every piece you seemed even moderately interested in. He loved how your eyes seemed to sparkle when he’d quote something he’d read in a history book, giving you a taste of the delves of information he kept stored in his brain as a Belobogian noble.

If it were up to him, you’d have access to every archive on the face of Jarilo-VI.

And you, you loved how he’d get so absorbed in explaining things that the words seemed to pour out of his mouth as he pointed at the displays. Even with the hum of the Geomarrow heaters and the constant chatter of visitors, his voice was the only one you seemed to hear.

Such simple joy it brought you. Here, staring at the photograph of the Eversummer Florists together, and chatting as if you weren’t two whole worlds apart. Gepard’s eyes took in every detail, every flower and every ray of sunlight trickling in through the windows.

You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at your leather shoes just for a moment. Something vague flapped at the corners of your mind, but now really wasn’t the time to try and sort it out, you told yourself.

“Why don’t we tour the projector room next?” Gepard said, leaning down to look you in the eyes intently. You felt your heart leap at his voice.

Boy, were you in deep.

You mustered a smile as best you could, hoping it wasn’t too stiff.

“Sure! Lead the way,”

You had never seen such a wonderful piece of technology before. You both sat down on the velvet benches, entranced by the images flickering across the canvas.

This time, it was Gepard’s turn to stare. He’d seen it all before in his days as a volunteer. But seeing you gazing in awe at the projection as the light reflected in your eyes. That was something new.

Sitting there, shoulder to shoulder. Like equals. Watching the same screen, seeing the same things. It made his heart flutter like nothing ever had.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Wow. I am wiped!” you exclaimed after departing from the museum. “That was a great tour. Do you accept tips, Mister Volunteer Guide?” You grinned at him and Gepard let out an amused huff.

“I simply repeated what they taught me in primary school,”

“Yeah?” You inquired. “It was super immersive, though. I think you’d make a great history teacher,”

He went almost entirely pink at the compliment.

You chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t hard to make him blush, you thought.

“And also, what’s a primary school?” You piped up.

“Oh?” He paused. “It’s the first school kids attend on the surface. They learn to read, write, and all the other various things required of them,”

“Really? I remember Natasha teaching us how to read and write, but then it was straight to the mines for us,” you pondered, reminiscing back on your childhood in the Great Mine.

Suddenly, Gepard’s shoulder crashed into yours, sending you reeling into the Geomarrow heater to your left with a loud bang. You hurriedly grabbed it before it crashed to the ground.

Interestingly enough, the cause of this confusion was a small but speedy child, who had rammed into Gepard’s right leg by accident.

The child with short umber hair didn’t look back once after knocking into you, shouting “sorry,” and continuing to sprint, as a gang of ten or more children trampled after him. Their footsteps echoed along the walls of the lower floor of the Administrative district, which amplified them until it really did sound like a herd of animals.

All of the kids were carrying flags and pinwheels, staple items for the upcoming Solwarm festival, but they were wearing clothes belonging to both the Overworld and the Underworld.

This sent a jolt of surprise to your core. They played together so easily, it was like the past few decades hadn’t even happened.

“Little rascals,” you snickered, pulling away from the bench and brushing yourself off. You both stood and watched the children barrel down the road, knocking unsuspecting grown-ups into the next week. At one point, they stopped in a wide-open area and began to kick around a beanbag, their laughter ringing like bells.

Gepard’s brows furrowed, a pensive look appearing on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” You tilted your head at him with a smile on your lips.

His thoughtful expression had to have been one of your favorites.

He returned your gaze from where he was staring at the children chattering, running, and playing without a care in the world. Gepard felt the pang of a familiar memory in his chest.

“I was just considering… how nice it is to see relationships between the Overworld and the Underworld lessening in tension.”

He sighed. “I know it may sound silly, but some used to discourage interactions between the two,”

The look in Gepard’s eyes became a little more distant. “My father, for instance,”

You looked at him questioningly as he drew in a deep breath.

“I remember he once threw a vase at me in a fit of anger, after discovering I’d been visiting a group of kids from the mines,”

He glanced at the ground, looking quite like a lost puppy. “I had never heard the stories that they were telling before, so I just… kept going back to listen,”

You felt your mouth fall slightly ajar. He kept speaking.

“Thankfully, I didn’t get hurt that day, but the only reason is because my sister stepped in order to protect me,”

Your eyes widened in shock. “How— how old were you?”

“I believe I was five at the time,” Gepard stated. Almost like it was nothing.

“I think that’s where I gained some of my resolve,” he continued. “My own sister stepped forward to protect me without a thought for her own safety. So I grew up wanting to be strong, like her,”

Gepard curled his hand into a fist, letting memories of his childhood wash over him in his usual manner of acceptance. But when he looked back at you, only a glimpse of your face could be seen. You stared at the ground silently, and he could very well tell that your fists and jaw were clenched tight.

Waves of frustration at the realization crashed over you and your breath went hot. You stared back up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“He threw… a vase at you?” You said.

Hurt leaked into your voice against your will and you felt your heart had snapped in two. It seemed like both he and Serval harbored animosity toward their father.

And now you knew why. There was no way this was a one-time thing.

“That’s— wow, I don’t know what to say, Gepard,”

The captain showed little to no reaction. He looked back at the plaza with a soft exhale. One that exuded both sadness and gradual adjustment.

“He’s… always been that way. The Landaus, well, they all have their own sort of stubbornness in their values. His just tended to come out more,” he said.

“Stubborn, maybe.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “But he had no right to throw something at you. That could’ve really hurt a small child,”

You remembered being trapped in a landslide as a kid, and another child had kicked you in the face trying to escape. You were sent tumbling down the canyon where you fractured your shoulder and leg.

But to live with someone who, at any moment, could snap and hurt you? That was something else entirely.

Communities in the Underworld were based on a mutual network of trust. You couldn’t imagine having no one to turn to when you were scared. You stifled a sob.

“If I’m being honest with myself,” Gepard said softly, resting a hand on his chin. “It’s stuck with me well into my adult years. I haven’t quite dispelled all the preconceptions I’ve been raised with,”

“It doesn’t seem like he would have give you much room to, anyways,” you commented. “I think you two have both grown up to be wonderful people, even though you’ve faced so many hardships,”

He nodded solemnly, taking each and every word to heart. “But now, seeing these children at play, it gives me hope for the future… That Belobog truly can heal,”

It was at this moment you remembered, the captain was a kid too at one point. Behind the stoic exterior and steadfast resolve, there was a child that laughed and cried. One that had his own internal struggles, besides leading an army and reporting directly to the Supreme Guardian.

His childhood must have really had an impact on him. How would he have been different, if he had grown up in a happier home, you wondered. Despite the pain, you smiled.

Out of the blue, an idea popped into your brain.

“You know what I think, Gepard?” You chirped. “I think you just might be right!”

In a fit driven by inspiration, you leaped onto the nearest cafe table, offering your hand to your startled companion. He took it and carefully stepped onto the steel chair to join you.

“Overworld. Underworld. Why should it matter?” You shrugged confidently. “We’re here already, aren’t we? Look at us!”

You beamed at him and spun around with your arms outstretched on the wooden surface.

Turning to face him, you took both of his hands in yours. They felt warm. A soft kind of happiness filled Gepard’s eyes as he slotted his fingers in between your own.

“That’s right, we are.” He smiled gently.

You stood there for a moment, ignoring all the passerby and also the confused waitress calling for the shop owner.

If only you could take this sliver of time and put it in your pocket. You both held your breath, hoping that if you didn’t move, you could stay there until the world stood still.

Your eyes trailed to Gepard’s cheeks, which still had a slight blush to them, (maybe from the cold), down to the silver clasps that held his jacket together.

Glancing back up at his kind eyes, you felt something inside you chipping its way out.

—love you.

Your eyes went as round as the shield coins they exchanged at the Eversummer Florist’s.

What?

Oh no— oh no. Hold on. I knew something was, um, off, but is my brain playing tricks on me?

Was I just caught up in the moment? Why did I even think that?

Gepard stared at you quizzically, unaware of the mental battlefield you had just gotten your left arm blown off in.

Your heart began to race faster than one of those antique cars they had at the museum. His hands still clasped yours tightly, even as you tried to drop them gently.

You let out a strangled sound from your throat that sounded like “huegh” while steam poured out of your ears.

“(Y/N)?” He said, confused but seemingly unfazed.

You turned towards the closest brick wall, still holding his hands. Your eyes darted around like a cat after a loud disturbance.

No. I cant keep lying to myself like this.

You braced yourself for the realization as best you could.

I’m… in love with Gepard.

It still wasn’t enough. The sky and the ground seemed to reverse that very second as everything went upside down.

Still holding his hands, the first round of mental gymnastics began. You felt almost dizzy as thoughts flooded your brain, so you looked at your shoes to combat it.

(His were there too so it didn’t help much.)

Thoughts like:

Have… I been in love with him this whole time?

And, When did it start? And why? And, Did he notice? What if I’ve been super duper obvious??

And last but not least, Oh, Qlipoth. Please preserve my sanity—,

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about—,”

You were lifting your head again in order to make your statement seem sincere when, something that was crazier than the time you decided to go crowd surfing on a line of robots, popped into your mind.

Kiss him. A part of you whispered internally.

Every muscle in your body froze.

Do it. You know you want to, the voice spoke again.

Your eyes travelled slightly downward to his lips. All you had to do was—

You yanked your hands away from his harshly, opting to stare at his chest instead of his face in shame.

Oh. My. AEONS. You grabbed your face with both hands. Did I think that? Did I just think that??

No. I don’t think I did, you consoled yourself hurriedly. I think Serval developed a device that projects thoughts into people’s heads, and I’m her test subject!

Gepard made a slight movement. A jerk of the head, which was nothing noteworthy now that you look back on it, but with everything going on at that moment, it was enough to set you off.

You yelped. Just like a snow fox.

The next few moments were a blur. You had taken a step backward without realizing you were on a table, and the surface was in fact, finite, and ended up toppling onto the cold stone ground behind you.

You narrowly missed a stack of crates, which would have definitely left a mark, had you landed on one of the edges.

Gepard had practically leaped off the table to check if you were okay, but the shopkeeper had appeared, waving his broom furiously at the both of you.

Your companion tried his best to placate the man but he wasn’t having it.

In a rush of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and took grabbed Gepard’s hand, making a quick dash around the corner.

Hopefully the man wouldn’t recognize him. With this particular outfit, you thought Gepard might stand a chance.

In a cruel twist of fate, you both ended up huffing and puffing in a narrow alleyway behind a drugstore. All that dotted the area was a dumpster and a few posters advertising a play that was five months out of season.

“I think we lost him,” you panted, and promptly dissolved into giggles. “Did you see his face? He was all like—,” you cut off, waving your arms around with a wacky expression.

You wheezed once more and doubled over to hold your stomach as cackling erupted from your throat. Gepard was resting against the wall as well, while his chest heaved with effort.

“Ohhh!” You said, raising your head once more. “Now I remember what I was saying— I wanted to thank you for showing me around so often. I hope I’m not being too much of a burden,” you chuckled to yourself.

Gepard pulled the cape out from where it had been caught between his legs before he responded.

“Not in the slightest, (Y/N). I’m always happy to be of assistance,” he responded.

You wiped fake sweat off your brow (even though you really were sweating). “Sweet. I’m gonna go grab a drink from the vending machine, if ya don’t mind. Want one?”

“I’d appreciate it,”

You ran to the vending machine while Gepard waited, keeping a lookout while his back was pressed against the wall. He was certain his jacket would need a fair amount of dry cleaning afterward. You bounded back with two Strawberry Svarog sodas in hand and popped them open.

Gepard threw his head back and drank heartily. He let out a satisfied sigh after drinking the last drop, while you clutched your bottle tightly after only drinking it halfway.

He was almost seen. You were struck with this thought.

You grimaced. There’s no way the higher ups at the fort would appreciate whatever tomfoolery you were dragging him into.

I shouldn’t let these feelings— no, myself, get in his way.

You two were completely different people, after all. He had a job and a reputation to hold down. You were just a florist.

Maybe they’ll fade with time. You hoped. I guess… I just have to hold on until then,

Because… because there’s no way he’d feel that way about me.

For a split second, it seemed like all of your happiness had leaked out of you and disappeared down the storm drain.

You quickly swallowed the feelings that had formed a hard lump in your throat. Hoping to clear up the silence, you whipped towards Gepard with false cheer, in hopes he wouldn’t notice your mood had dampened.

“So, Captain—,”

His lip stiffened. Again with the “captain?”

“Didja hear the news about the observatory?” You chattered, kind of absentmindedly. “They’ve finally been able to repair the main telescope, and soon it’ll be open for public use again!”

“Is that so? The last time I used that telescope, I was just a boy,” he replied, slightly shocked.

“Yep! I’ve seen the sky before, but I’ve never seen it, like… up close. You know?”

He smiled as you spread your arms grandly.

“Do the guards have a telescope?” You asked with a curious look in your eyes.

Gepard thought for a second, before he replied, “I imagine we did, many hundreds of years ago. But I think the Fragmentum threat posed too great a danger on the surface that—,”

He glanced up at the small patch of sky unobscured by the walls of the alleyway. It sparkled in his eyes.

“—we could no longer afford to pay attention to the sky,”

You joined him in gazing at the clouds.

What a world that would be.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus Scene 1

After the events that had transpired, and you both had gone home, Gepard was now focused on unbuttoning the seemly endless number of clasps on his coat.

This clasp in particular was incredibly frustrating. Every time he’d get ahold of it, it would slip out from between his fingers.

The captain was considering giving up and just wearing the gaudy thing forever when numerous alerts from Serval went off on his phone.

From: Serval at 15:19

Serval: geppie

Serval: geppie

Serval: geppie

Serval: hey

Serval: howd it go

You: Well, thank you.

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. Couldn’t she have waited at least an hour or so before barging in on his affairs?

His phone dinged once more.

I suppose that’s a no.

From: Serval at 15:20

Serval: is that all?

Serval: You’re totally leaving something out

Serval: oops. im being nosy again.

Serval: Call me if u wanna talk, ok?

Gepard sighed, debated for a moment what he’d rather do, then finally gave in and hit the “call” button.

[“Geppie! You called!”] Serval’s voice crackled to life through the speaker.

He could hear her smile radiating through the phone. The corners of his lips rose slightly, much to his own surprise.

“Indeed I did, sister,”

Bonus Scene 2

Back at the scene on top of the cafe table!

To keep his hands from trembling, Gepard stayed completely and utterly still.

Probably too still.

Your hands were warm, so warm. Although standing on top of a table at a random cafe wasn’t the most romantic setting, he felt like he could bring you into his embrace right then and there.

Never before had he felt so lacking in control of his own desires. Something seemed to be tugging at your thoughts, as you were looking around anxiously.

Could it be you didn’t want him to be spotted because his face was so well known? Gepard could only guess what kind of thoughts were bouncing around your brain.

He watched as you looked, back up from your shoes, to his sheepish face. Your eyes were more beautiful than the clearest ice crystals. Warmer, too. His gaze softened as he saw your eyes flick toward his lips.

And then Gepard did the unthinkable.

He leaned in closer.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

That choice did not end well for either of you.

After checking if you had hit your head and ducking into the nearest alleyway, Gepard wanted to strangle himself mentally.

Why? Why had he made such a stupid decision?

Out of all the choices, that was the most reckless one.

He really should have known better. At this rate, he risked losing your friendship because of his own selfish feelings.

The captain rested his back against the wall in shame as you ran to get drinks from a vending machine.

A man of his caliber shouldn’t be making such mistakes. He should get his act together and court you correctly, for the love of Qlipoth.

But Aeons, he could only ask himself:

What if he had waited a single second longer?

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[jlovesch]

Baju @indonesianeeds dipakai @jojosuherman waktu nonton konser Taylor Swift di SIG.... Wiiiii.... #bfabc 😘 😘 😘

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Porridge for— you guessed it— A Bashful Captain (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After hearing the shocking news that Gepard is sick, Serval entrusts you with the task of making sure he doesn’t burn himself out while no one is watching. Good luck with that.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: I’ve been struggling to get my posts to show in the tags, so let me know if you want to be taglisted! It’s really demotivating seeing my work get demolished by the algorithm.

MASTERLIST

How nice it was to have a moment of respite after a long and arduous campaign.

At least, that’s what the captain wished he could say.

Every muscle in his body seemed to be screaming at him to stay in bed after he woke up that morning. His throat felt like it had been scraped with steel wool and then some. Plus, his body felt chilled, even after piling far more than the usual number of blankets on his bed.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Serval had said. Aeons, she was right.

Gepard vaguely registered the fact that this combination of symptoms spelled disaster, but nevertheless, he had to get up. He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to gather the strength to hoist himself out of bed, but the air seemed to have invisible barbed wire that scoured his already painful lungs. He broke into a hacking cough that echoed throughout the estate and immediately sat up to cover his mouth with his elbow.

A knock on the door drew him out of his misgivings.

“Young master Gepard?” A concerned voice— which belonged to one of the maids— called.

Although the captain felt like his stomach was churning like butter, he shifted the blankets aside and treaded towards the door. Even the estate felt dreary that morning as the sunlight reaching through the window was weak and scattered (Due to a thick cloud covering, indicating an impending snowstorm.) The expensive plush carpet on the floor of the room did little to ease his newfound dislike of standing upright.

How silly he felt, a man who trudged through waist-deep snow on the daily, was now reduced to a sniveling mess in his family home. Gepard, still rubbing his nose, opened the wooden door slightly.

The shock on the maid’s face was evident as she caught her first glimpse of him. He really did look worse for wear, his golden hair was unkempt, his complexion was pale, and he had to lean on the doorframe to keep the room from swaying and bending inwards and—

“Um— young master. I heard you coughing,” she blurted out, eyeing his drooping eyelids. “Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?”

Gepard raised his voice to respond but instead let out a ghastly wheeze followed by coughing that sounded like thunder. He turned his head away so as not to catch her in the blast.

“Y-yes, please,” He resumed looking at her. “That would be much appreciated,”

His voice was uncomfortably hoarse. She glanced up at him. “Would you like it with lemon or without?”

The young man didn’t get a chance to respond. His calloused hand slid down the doorframe, his vision went fuzzy—

—and then everything went dark.

The maid’s shriek echoed off the walls, causing the sparrows that perched on the windowsills to take to the sky.

Her voice turned heads, both maids and butlers alike, all throughout the manor.

(It is said that they still speak about it to this day, much to her chagrin.)

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You were convinced that work was going to give you a heart attack.

With the Solwarm festival upcoming, flower sales practically exploded. Your job as a florist was a source of many joys, but even you had your limits. Your hands were permanently stained with a mix of red and orange from all the Solarflowers you’d been handling. It looked like brilliant flames adorned your arms, but it lost its novelty after you realized you couldn’t wash it off, even with industrial strength soap.

And you had a catch-up with Gepard in three days. Just great.

He’d sent the invitation through a surprise letter a week before he came home. He said he’d be busy for a bit with mission debriefings and yada yada, but he’d like to meet at Serval’s for lunch once he got the chance.

Couldn’t he have just texted me? You snorted when you opened it. Those nobles. (You betted that he’d never gone on a date that was anything other than a fancy matchmaking dinner.)

But then you realized that was dumber than dumb. He wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone on military expeditions. You nearly smacked yourself with the first edition copy of the Gardener’s Almanac in shame.

You cast a mournful, longing glance through the paned glass windows and out at Qlipoth fort. Of course Gepard had ten thousand meetings to attend to after getting home.

A pang of pity reverberated throughout your chest. Didn’t he at least deserve a short break? He was like a herding dog that never got a day off.

You looked up from where your head was resting on the counter, feeling the warmth of a Solarflower bouquet spread across your face almost like a blush. Handing the customer’s change across the counter whilst simultaneously stifling a heartbroken sigh wasn’t much, but it was one of the hardest things you’d done all day.

I am so. Friggin. Tired. You groaned. The overcast weather was really getting to your mood.

A clatter came from the back, which caused you to prick your ears.

“Hey, (Y/N)? The plumbing in the upstairs sink broke. We’re missing the right kind of wrench. Would you mind going out and grabbing it?” Meg spoke.

“Sure,” you perked your eyebrows, eager to escape your thoughts for a split second. “What kind is it?”

Your boss handed you a paper with the details, and you swung your florist’s bag over your shoulder with newfound gusto. A trip to Serval’s workshop was exactly what you needed.

The breeze outside the shop was stagnant. It made you shudder. You couldn’t control the weather, but you could sure as hell skip to the shop to spite the bad hand you’d been dealt recently.

The bronze shop bell dinged to announce your entry. And Serval, the owner of the Neverwinter Workshop, was fast asleep on a pile of papers.

That can’t be comfortable,

“Hey, Serv—,”

She shot up from her desk faster than you could blink.

“Welcome to Neverwinter Workshop! What can I— Oh! (Y/N)! Sorry about that, I just uh… dozed off for a bit,”

You chuckled. “Not a problem. I just came by for an 18x18mm wrench. Would you happen to have one of those?”

Molly, the assistant, peeked her head in from the back. “Only a few hundred of them,”

You stared back, flabbergasted. “Why so many?”

“Miss Serval put an extra zero on the order form,” she said with a shrug.

Serval looked at you sheepishly, her blue eyes filled to the brim with embarrassment. You shot her a glance loaded with concern.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” You inquired.

“Yeah, totally! Well… The band and I have been pretty busy with rehearsal lately. Y’know, with the Solwarm festival coming up and all—,” She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “—anyways, the person who’s case you should REALLY be on is Gepard’s,”

You lifted an eyebrow at her attempt to deflect the blame. “Yeah? And why is that?”

She paused, not paying you the slightest crumb of attention before she let out an planet-shaking yawn.

“Huh? Oh, he’s sick. Real nasty case. He got it from Pela,”

“Jeez. Seriously?” You exclaimed. “That sucks. I hope he gets better soon,”

She blinked slowly and tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We do too. He actually passed out this morning,”

Your eyes went wide.

“He WHAT???”

“Ah, well, he passed—,”

“Nope, nope, nope. I got it,” you said, rubbing your temples while staring at the floor. “Holy crap. It must be really bad then. Did he have to go to the hospital?”

Serval shook her head. “Nope, thank Qlipoth. Lynx has had to crash here so she doesn’t catch it,”

You glanced around the workshop. “She has? Where is she?”

Your friend pointed at a stack of cardboard boxes stacked beside a shelf.

“Right there,”

And clear as day, you spotted the white tufts of fur from Lynx’s hat sticking out of her sleeping bag.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Okay… So, let me get this straight. Gepard returned home and promptly passed out,” You gripped the edge of the reception desk so hard you thought it might splinter. “Is anyone keeping him from going to the meetings or… anything?”

“Well, yeah. He knows well enough not to spread his sickness around. What I can’t say for sure though is that he’s not forcing himself to do paperwork… and stuff,” Serval hummed to herself, sorting through another stack of papers that had been rearranged from her catnap.

You let out a withering sigh. “Someone’s gotta stop him,”

Picking up your phone, you hurriedly dialed his number. After far too many seconds, you flopped helplessly onto the desk. No answer.

“Ugh. Can’t we like… call Dunn or the household or something?” You said weakly.

“I thiiink you may be blowing this one out of proportion,” she grinned, showing her pointy canines. “Why don’t you stop by if you miss him so much? You can knock some sense into him or whatever,”

She smirked as she saw embarrassment seep into your face.

Aha! So you DO miss him,

“Yeah, if warp trotters fly, maybe,” you tried to hide your expression by running a palm over your face. “I can’t just show up unannounced,”

“You sure can! I do it all the time,” she said cheerfully. “Usually when the man of the house isn’t there, though,” A look of distaste flashed in her eyes.

“The head butler has a good memory. He should remember you. Say I sent you—,” she perked up. “Oh! Here, I’ll write you a note,”

The blonde-haired woman yanked open a wooden drawer with an ear-piercing screech and lifted a notepad and pen out from its confines. She scrawled something out quickly.

“This should do,”

You squinted at the note skeptically.

I hereby authorize (Y/N), a friend of Gepard’s, to check up on him and make sure he isn’t working himself to death,

Signed,

Serval

[A strange doodle of a smiling face holding up a peace sign]

“Now go!” She shouted, practically pushing you out the door. “Go, go, go! You got this!”

“What—? Serval, I can’t—,”

“Yes you can! Call me if they don’t let you in. Rock on!”

She dropped you unceremoniously on the stone steps outside and slammed the door.

“Cheers!” Her muffled voice called.

I really should become a matchmaker, she snickered to herself.

You looked at the note once more and wilted.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Gepard’s residence was… exactly the same all the other times you had gone, maids and all.

It was still plenty overwhelming though. You brushed the wrinkles out of your tunic as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasted no time swinging open with a force that could’ve flattened someone, had they been standing behind it.

You nearly squawked in fear. Didn’t these people know how to open a door normally?

While gripping your messenger bag, filled with a few things you had brought from home, you requested entry from the broad-shouldered man that answered. You had no trouble keeping your voice steady but your chest felt like it was being crushed under a metal boot as you faced him.

“Ah, yes. Anything for a friend of the young master!” The butler smiled warmly at you. He didn’t show any sign that he had picked up on your nervousness. Hah, you didn’t think you’d ever get over all these pairs of eyes on you each time you came.

But wait— a friend? Hadn’t you told them each and every visit that you were a gardener he hired?

You bit the edge of your lip but kept your mouth shut.

He motioned you inside. “He’s been resting. Please, let us walk you up!”

You kept your eyes trained on the velvet carpet draped on the stairs as you followed him up. The floorboards squeaked softly under your soles.

When you got upstairs, the curly-haired man stopped in front of a particular door. “Just go on in,” he instructed.

You thanked him and rapped on the door lightly.

“Gepard?”

He looked up from his paperwork hurriedly from where it was bent over the desk to the source of your voice.

“It’s me. Serval sent me over to check if you were doing alright,” you said, leaning your head closer to the wood.

Gepard’s brows knitted together.

If she really wanted to, she could have busted my door down like last time.

He switched off the lamp and got out of his chair.

You heard a croak that sounded like “coming” and winced away from the door. Eek. He must be in really bad shape.

The door opened, causing a breeze to hit your face. After not seeing his face for a month, this wasn’t how you expected your first meeting to go.

By Qlipoth’s grace—, you clapped your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from saying it out loud.

Gepard’s hair was messy and his cheeks were crimson. Locks of his golden hair covered his eyes, which were puffy and red. Better yet, he was wearing a matching set of blue and white striped pajamas. You nearly gawked. At least he wasn’t wearing his uniform if he wasn’t working.

He took in a quick breath to greet you but a harsh bout of coughing cut him off. Turning away from the door, he hacked into his elbow and tried to shut it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you wedged your buckled boot into the space between the door and the frame. That swift action shocked him out of his coughing fit.

“A-apologies, I wasn’t expecting a visit. Please step away before I give you my illness,”

“Oh! That’s why you shut the door,” Your mouth went wide. “I thought you knew the real reason why I came!”

His eyes went wide as you used your forearm to force the door open wider, a vaguely threatening gesture.

What real reason?

“Forget what I just said,” you grinned while sauntering into the room. “Anyways, my immune system is great! I used to eat dirt when food was scarce in the Underworld. It’ll take a lot more than a cold to kill me,”

“Oh my. Is— is that so?” Gepard cleared his throat, forming a fist over his mouth. He followed a few steps behind you as you went about the room.

“Yessir. I came to say hi! Nothing more. Definitely not,” You chirped, looking around his quarters (not at all suspiciously, by the way.) “How are you feeling?”

Wait, didn’t you say Serval—?

He didn’t get to finish that thought.

“Well— all right, I suppose. A little lightheaded and feverish,” his eyes trailed your form moving about. “I took some medicine earlier, and my condition has improved some. Nothing a little rest won’t fix,”

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. “Yes. Rest. Glad to see we’re on the same page here, Gepard. Hey— you moved your bamboo plant in here!” You spotted a joyful little green plant in a pot on top of his desk.

He gave you a puzzled look. Your behavior was…strange, to say the least.

“Ah, yes. I moved it because—,”

—it reminded me of you, he narrowly stopped himself from saying.

“—I read that bamboo didn’t need as much light as I was giving it, so, I figured it would be fine if I transferred it,”

You bent your knees a little to take a closer look at it. “I see. The soil looks nice. Mind if I turn on the light to take a closer look?”

“Be my guest,”

You rotated the little key that controlled the lamplight. It flicked on, spreading a warm glow onto the books and papers on the desk. A glint reflected off a dollop of ink resting on a half-written paper.

You froze. That ink is fresh.

Bristling indignantly, you whisked your head towards him. He picked up the change in mood immediately and blanched.

“I thought you said you’d been resting,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I have,” He paused, confused. “Well—,”

“AHA!” You shouted. “I gotcha! This ink is fresh, Captain. Don’t think you can fool me,” You said triumphantly, placing your hands on your hips.

“Serval— she did send you, didn’t she?!” He sputtered. The usual stoic captain was nowhere to be seen as he rubbed the back of his neck in shame.

“Yes. She did. But also I would’ve come either way to make sure you weren’t wearing yourself out,” you snorted playfully. “She said it was highly likely you were doing paperwork. And paperwork IS. NOT. REST.” You shook a finger at him accusingly.

Gepard flinched slightly. “I’m not exerting myself physically, so there’s no need to worry, (Y/N). Really,”

The air around you seemed to grow dark. You cracked your knuckles, staring him straight in the face.

“Sit down. Now,”

He obliged, choosing to plunk down on his bed.

“I know it feels like you’re wasting time doing nothing, but your mind needs to recover too,” you shook your head disapprovingly while giving him an exaggerated sigh. “You should know that,”

You pulled up a chair in front of him and took a seat, facing the window so he was looking at your side profile.

“I don’t care if you’re the most capable man on Jarilo-VI—,”

—and it was pretty likely that he was,

“You need time to rest, just like everyone else,” you lectured, opening one eye to peer at him teasingly.

“Right,” Gepard replied, defeated. He had nothing against you.

“Did you even wear the scarf I gave you out there?”

“I did, but I didn’t want to dirty it,” he replied. You gave him a snort, which quickly turned into laughter.

“Aww. That’s thoughtful of you,” you flashed him a smile. “I made it knowing I might have to make you another one though. Or three. Just let me know if it gets too damaged to wear, okay?”

Gepard looked down at his striped pajama pants, a small smile crossing his features. “Thank you. I appreciate it,”

His chest almost hurt with all the things he wanted to say trying to fight their way out.

“No problem. If anything, you deserve it,” you sang. “On the other hand, have you eaten anything today?”

“I haven’t,” he rested his head on his chin. “I don’t seem to have an appetite, unfortunately,”

“I see. You should get something in ya though. Natasha told me your body could use the energy,” you stated knowledgeably.

He tried in vain to stamp down the feelings in his chest that sprouted from seeing your concerned expression.

For him. You cared about him.

Aeons, he didn’t deserve this.

“You can ask the cooks to make you some porridge or something,” you suggested. “I have some instant stuff, but it might not be to your liking,”

“I’m sure yours will be fine,” he rebutted quickly. “I’d be happy to eat it,”

You looked at him disbelievingly. I’ve never seen someone so determined to eat instant porridge,

His face stayed just how it was, his eyebrows weighing heavily on his eyes, just like twin anvils.

“Yeah, ok,” you let up. “Do you have a kettle or anything close by?”

“I believe there is one in the kitchen that they use for tea. You can ask the maids to retrieve it for you,” he motioned to the left.

You shook your head and got up. What use was it to call a maid for a trip that merely entailed going up and down the stairs? (Well, there were a stupid number of stairs, but that’s a whole other issue).

Kettle, bowl, spoon, and cloth napkin in hand, you bolted back upstairs to your patient. You plugged the kettle in and set it down on a towel so the heat didn’t damage the furniture.

Tapping your feet while you waited for the kettle to boil, you took a quick glance around the room. It told you a lot you needed to know about Gepard.

Firstly, he was relatively neat. Of course the areas of high traffic, like the bookshelves and the desk, were messier, but they hadn’t more than a few specks of dust on them. His uniform was hanging off of a dark oak armoire, and his military medals were pinned on a cork board attached to its door.

Secondly, there were quite a few pictures hanging on the walls. There were a few of him at awards ceremonies, at various ages. And one of him as a cadet— and wow— he was pretty short back then. He stood almost a whole head shorter than the other guards. You almost squealed with delight.

You turned back to him, noticing his eyes were glued to where you were staring. Oops.

You hurriedly apologized for staring so conspicuously at the photographs, but he shook his head at the statement. Photos were meant to be looked at, after all.

This quickly led to a slew of questions he wasn’t expecting, such as “How old were you when you joined the Guards?” And “Did Serval ever threaten to bench press you?”.

He almost laughed at that one. Probably. His nose wrinkled a little. Or whatever. You figured he’d finally laugh for real once the moons collided with Jarilo-VI.

The kettle began to whistle.

“Ah, water’s boiling,” you said, turning towards the outlet where it was plugged in.

Gepard had since settled down in bed, pulling the covers over his waist. You poured the piping hot water into the bowl carefully, the steam forming curls in the air, and covered it with a lid.

After a few minutes had passed, you set the bowl on a library book from your bag (Eek. Bad idea.) as a makeshift tray and stuck a spoon in it.

“Voilà. Enjoy!” You flung your arms in the air ostentatiously as he looked onward.

Gepard took a spoonful and blew on it gingerly. You watched him with an expectant look on your face. Although whether you were expecting something good or bad, you didn’t quite know.

He lifted it to his mouth and you zeroed in on him even harder.

“It’s delicious,” he said with conviction, meeting your eyes. You squinted at him.

“Um. Gepard, I think the fever is messing with your brain. Are you sure you can taste right now?”

“I’m sure,” he responded.

“No way!” You exclaimed, slapping your forehead. “Let me try— actually, wait. That’s a bad idea,” you sighed. “I’ll just have to believe you,”

The captain nodded affirmatively. He brought another spoonful up to his mouth and relished it, feeling the warmth spread across his tongue. You swore as you watched him savor it contentedly that you’d buy some on your way home to try for yourself.

While Gepard polished off the contents of his bowl, you yammered on about various events that had happened in Belobog while he was away. You had been saving them for when you got together for real, but you figured now was just as good a time as any.

Once he had finished, he rested the spoon on the side of the ceramic bowl.

“Thank you for coming to visit me, (Y/N),” he said gently.

“Someone had to,” you laughed while kicking your feet up. “When I heard you’d been bumbling about all day, I nearly had a heart attack!”

He ran a palm over his face, closing his blue eyes. “Yes— and I’m sorry for that,”

“I didn’t want to believe her, but you guys both have a tendency to push yourself way too hard, you know?”

“By her, you mean Serval?”

You pursed your lips at him.

“That’s how the Landaus are,” he exhaled heavily, letting out a small cough he quickly covered. “It’s… our duty to bring glory to our name, after all,”

You folded your arms. “Maybe by fighting valiantly or repairing automatons, but crawling through paperwork?? I don’t think so. Secretaries that want to help you are a dime a dozen. It’s a lot easier than risking your life in the Snow Plains,” you chortled.

“You’ve probably filled your glory quota for the next two centuries, Gepard,” you glowed. “Bronya and Pela know just how hard you work. You can always ask for help,”

Gepard sighed again. (He did that a lot.) You made a good point.

“I’m sure I’ll recover in no time, thanks to all of you,” he said sincerely. You imitated the sound of an explosion while opening your fist.

“Boom. Magic porridge,”

To your surprise, this elicited a short chuff from Gepard; This caused your breath to get lost somewhere in your throat.

It felt strange seeing him so unguarded in his bedroom with his hair unkempt, in contrast to the well-polished emblem of strength shown on the recruitment posters everywhere in the Administrative District.

You folded your hands over your lap contentedly, silently thanking Serval for clueing you in today. Out of the blue, Gepard spoke up.

“When I recover, would you like to go to the Belobog History and Culture Museum with me?”

That startled you. “Really? I have been wanting to go,” you gnawed on your thumbnail hesitantly. “But are you sure? With all the stuff you have on your plate?”

“Positively,” he replied, his blue eyes capturing all of your attention. You quickly averted your eyes before your circuits overheated. “Volunteers can bring in one guest for free. I… know we haven’t had too many chances to spend time together because we’re both busy, but I figured I’d make an offer anyhow,”

You didn’t catch the last half of that sentence over the sound of a train whistling in your ears.

This should be illegal.

Is he even hearing himself right now?? To— to spend time together?? If I wasn’t super-duper ultra perceptive, I’d think he—,

You clamped your hands on your cheeks (internally, of course) to still yourself, while the rest of you stared straight ahead.

Oh dear,

“Sure!” You blurted out, stiff as a statue.

Smooth, (Y/N).

Fortunately for you, an alert from your phone jostled you out of your internal minefield. You flipped it open while trying to expel far too many thoughts from your mind at once.

It was Serval. You popped into your messages app to see what she had sent— and in true Serval fashion— she had sent the most mind-boggling, disorienting message possible.

From: Serval at 13:44

S: how’s he doing? did u get there alright?

S: ahh you’re probably busy.

S: tuck him in for me, will u?

You nearly spit out your drink. Gepard blinked at you.

You— you can’t just SAY something like that, you cried internally. Not when my feelings are all messed up! I should get out of here before this gets any worse,

“Is something the matter?”

You sighed, long and heavy. “There’s always something, isn’t there?”

He made no move to make any inquiries.

“Anywho, I guess I should take my leave now,” you spoke, reaching down to pick up your messenger bag off the floor and rising from your seat. “before I keep you up any longer. Take it easy, okay?”

“Ah— yes,” he replied, not letting the disappointment leak into his voice. He wondered about the sudden change in mood, but he didn’t want to pry if it would cause you discomfort.

“I’ll… keep that in mind,”

You smiled warmly at him.

“Good,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Even though you had left with the reasoning that you didn’t want to keep him awake, Gepard was anything but tired.

His strict internal clock as a soldier was probably to blame. A sigh echoed throughout the room. It was way too quiet now. And the velvet curtains absorbed any sound too weak to escape them.

He had to do something to keep his mind active. Maybe reading, perhaps? But the only books he had on his bookshelf were on war strategy and history. Both of which were related to his job.

How about drawing?

Now, that didn’t sound too bad.

He got out of bed and picked up a pencil, a spare piece of paper, and the floriography manual you lent him, off of his desk to use as a hard surface. As he settled into his mattress, he peered out the window one last time. He spotted a familiar green beret against the tan limestone bouncing way faster than necessary down the steps leading to the plaza.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

Well, time to get started,

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You sat in the break room of the florist’s, reading the latest edition of Automatons Weekly while waiting patiently for the porridge you had bought from the grocers to finish absorbing the water.

Vaska sat across from you, drinking floral tea while flipping through Tales 2. You’d prepared a bowl of porridge for her as well, just a different flavor. Hers had flecks of green and black in it, and it smelled quite good. Rather savory, in your opinion. The one you had gotten Gepard was the plain kind.

They had a surprising amount of flavors of porridge specifically at the grocers, like cinnamon, coconut, banana, whatever. It was honestly overwhelming. The fact they spent so much time curating the porridge aisle was weird, considering they didn’t have anything worth buying from the Underworld. But nonetheless.

After lifting the lids and seeing that the grains were sufficiently cooked, you both dipped your spoons in and shoveled them in your mouth.

“Blech!” Vaska said, coughing her mouthful into a napkin. “It tastes like soap,” You looked at her wordlessly as you swallowed yours.

You pondered for a moment.

“You know… I think I’ve had dirt more flavorful,” you said, bursting into loud laughter. “And how exactly do you know what soap tastes like?”

Vaska gave you a look loaded with venom.

“Whatever. You up for some cookies?” You shrugged.

She snickered, cracking open the door to the sweets cabinet in response, and fished out a jar of Meg’s famous chocolate brownie cookies.

Well, so much for that plan.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

All of this, for a phonograph? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After having an odd dream and unexpectedly getting a promotion, you head down to the Underworld in some weird journey of self-discovery that ends up in a whole lot of chaos.

▸ Genre(s): fluff, angst

▸ Word Count: 16.6k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, violence, mentions of blood, crying, emetephobia tw, having to wake up early,

A/N: IM SO FUCKINGN TIRED.

I was not expecting to surpass my word count record. Anyways, sorry for the initial jankyness. I don’t write in present tense often

MOSSBALL MASTERLIST (psst more gepard here)

Sitting at a desk in front of a window, accompanied by a stained brass lamp and an old family photo you were certain had been lost (during the evacuation of Rivet Town), you watched the people of Belobog mill about the Alexandra Plaza beneath the setting sun.

You smile softly to yourself, laying your tired fountain pen to rest beside a variety of parchments that contained pictures of flowers you had never seen, and writing that didn’t quite make sense.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind to make you rise from your seat and tiptoe down the hallway towards the kitchen.

It was your kitchen, presumably.

The mahogany floorboards creaked softly in protest, but they were covered by the sound of the familiar sound of music coming from the phonograph you’d had as a child. It got louder the closer you got to the end of the hallway.

How you missed those old songs. You used to sit by the fireplace with a warm cup of milk, listening to the music while the flames flickered at you.

From the kitchen, golden light peeps through the doorway at you. Warm and comforting, it drips over the paintings and vases decorating the hallway.

It was so strange. This place felt like home, yet you had never seen it before in your entire life.

As you push open the door, your heart leaps and lodges itself directly in your throat.

Oh. It’s Gepard, you think, surprised.

He stands in front of the kitchen sink, a bright blue apron adorning his waist and shoulders, with dishwashing gloves to match. Bubbles from the soapy water floated around him while he worked, and then sank to the tile floor, where they disappeared with a few soft pops.

The oven light illuminated something resting on the top rack. You lick your lips; it was always a joy whenever Gepard decided to cook.

“Ah, good evening, honey,” Gepard says, discarding his gloves and resting them on the counter. “Are you finished for the day?”

Honey?

Something about that struck an odd note.

“Yep! All done,” you say, not quite knowing what you’re talking about. “I can rest easy now. Thanks for taking care of the dishes,”

You smile and bound over to his side in your slippers.

“I’m happy to hear that. The pie is almost done, are you feeling hungry at all?” He asks. He unties his apron, (which, you might add, looks very good on him) and pulls two plates out of the cupboard. You have two of everything, from spoons to mugs. It makes your heart flutter like a herd of butterflies.

“Um… gosh, this was unexpected. But pie sounds great!” You reply while bending down to peer through the oven door. Its crust was a wonderful golden color, just like the sun. “What kind is it?”

“Apple,” Gepard replies. He sidles up next to you until your shoulders are touching. You had a decent view of the hair on the back of his neck from here, which was slightly darker than the hair on top of his head. Definitely cute, you think.

The captain smiles gently at you, almost puppy-esque in the way his eyes search yours for approval. He tilts his head downward and—

Wait a moment. Why was he so close? What was going on?

—to slowly and tenderly place a kiss on your cheek.

Your heart threatens to reach escape velocity.

Whoa there, scooter. Keep it cool, now, you scold yourself.

“You’re always so generous,” you compliment, cupping his cheeks with your hands. You shut your eyes, and this time, kiss him gently on the lips. It felt so right, the way you combed your fingers through his hair and how you knew exactly what to do.

Gepard’s cheeks burn pink as you pull away. The color contrasted his blue eyes, which resembled rich, deep sapphires with icy blue highlights at the bottom. You stared at them dreamily, when suddenly a strange ringing invaded your eardrums.

Oh, that must be the pie.

You pulled some oven mitts that were the size of cookie sheets out of your pockets and turned back to the oven— which had, for some reason, been very curiously turned into a washing machine.

You whip around again, and this time your husband(?) is dressed in full military regalia. Gepard takes a few steps back and throws himself out of the open kitchen window, saluting you as he goes.

You were certain you lived in a two-story building.

And oh, the ringing. It was getting increasingly louder. You clamp your hands over your ears indignantly while scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Can we not do this right now? You thought. I just wanted some pie,

Gravity seemed to be playing tricks on you as the fog began to lift, pulling you out of your deep sleep.

You blinked. The strange building had been replaced by the wooden ceiling of the Eversummer Florist you were used to.

Phonograph… I need to get my phonograph so Gepard and I can—,

Groaning, you limply smacked the phone on your bedside table with your arm and turned to tuck the blankets back under your chin. But the damn thing rang again as if to mock you.

Huh. I don’t remember setting two alarms, you thought. You clicked your tongue on the top of your mouth, cringing at the dreaded taste of morning breath as you sat up slowly.

You picked up the phone, hazily coming to the realization that it wasn’t yours. The alarm’s label was titled, “surprise,” which was ironic, considering it was quite the unpleasant one. A picture of Artem, from the hit novel, Tale of the Winterlands, was set as the lock screen.

There was no other person whom it could belong to.

The old wooden door to your dorm swung open, slamming into your armoire, which you were grateful was already chipped at that point. The sounds of streamers and confetti poppers blasted through whatever peace of mind you previously had, and a group of people, all wearing green berets, invaded your room. They were waving party wands around like it was the last day on Jarilo-VI.

Speaking of Vaska, she was busy pushing her way through the gaggle of people. She squeezed her body out of the fray to stand right over you, her green eyes staring straight at you unblinkingly, like some sort of lizard.

“Congratulations, (Y/N)! You’ve been promoted!” She cheered at you through cupped hands. Before you had realized it, you’d shot out of bed in surprise, flinging your covers everywhere.

“What? Really??” You asked, your jaw agape. You were still in your pajamas, but you were far beyond the fear of being seen in them.

“That’s right,” Meg, your boss, remarked. She was strict, but rather kind. “You’re now the general manager of the Eversummer Florist!”

She did have some odd ways of celebrating, though.

“Unless… you’d like to turn it down, of course,” she teased with a shrug.

“WAIT—! No, there’s no need. I would like the promotion, please,” you blurted. Vaska chuckled as she watched you scramble to put on your slippers,

Meg planted her hands on her hips sassily. “As I thought. Now, can you give everyone a thank you for giving you such a lovely surprise?”

“Thank you, everyone,” you gave them a toothy grin. A few whoops and cheers erupted from the back of the crowd.

“There’s a cupcake for you downstairs,” your boss added. “Pick it up whenever you like. Anyway, have a nice day off, kiddo. You deserve it more than anyone,”

“Aww, thank you so much!” You exclaimed. A cupcake sounded wonderful.

Meg tuned right around and whisked herself out of the door from whence she came. Everyone else followed suit in a single file line, like a group of ducklings. That made you chuckle.

You opened the blinds and peered outside. Icicles coated the power lines and hung from the roofs of houses, announcing the upcoming Solwarm Festival with their appearance. Meg probably had an ulterior motive, seeing as Belobog hadn’t held a Solwarm Festival in years— and Vaska had a particular penchant to break down under pressure. She could probably use another person to help ensure the festivities went smoothly.

You scoffed confidently at the challenge. With you and Vaska on the job, there was nothing on Jarilo-VI that could take you down. It would be a good way to show off your newfound skill at the job as well.

But as you stood there, woozy from the forceful wake-up and experiencing the overwhelming need to pee, your brow furrowed.

What exactly do I want to do from now on?

The question came hurtling entirely out of the Snow Plains, punching you right in the nose.

Yes, you had moved to the surface and become some sort of flower tycoon. And you were as sure as you could be that you liked your job. Plus, you had even gotten a promotion. To the position of general manager, of all things!

But had you really put any thought into what your future might be? You had been given the opportunity to move to the surface by the ADCS (or Administrative District Civil Service), and you had taken it.

After a year of living here, you now had a few more things to consider. Did you want to move back home? Surely not after getting a promotion. Your boss would kill you.

Additionally, you weren’t necessarily homesick. Life in the mines was largely nomadic. Where employment was, you would follow. You didn’t miss the hacking cough you’d develop during the winter from the rock dust building up in your lungs.

Friends didn’t stay too long either. You all had to eat in some way or another, and work wasn’t always guaranteed for people who traveled together.

Maybe you could help expand the flower business? Or even get an apartment of your own? Perhaps officially studying mechanical engineering might be the way to go…

All these thoughts made your brain feel like it was going to split. You sighed, plopping back down on your bed before you remembered Meg had given you a pile of flyers to hand out two days prior. They advertised the Solwarm Festival and its details, a good source of information for anyone who wasn’t privileged enough to have experienced the festivities.

You had meant to give one to Natasha, since you weren’t sure how well news travelled from one floor to another. Plus, since Rivet Town was mostly safe again, you could probably pick up your phonograph from your old home.

Rats, you thought. So much for my day off.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

The streets and buildings of Belobog’s Administrative District had a light dusting of snow on them, much akin to the powdered sugar they put on the pastries they sold at the local café.

Alexandra Plaza was certainly filled with things to do, including, but not limited to visiting the Neverwinter Workshop, seeing a play at the Golden Theatre, and taking a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum. It was nothing short of incredible. Of course, there were a fair amount of activities in the underworld too; they would just be considered less than legal to the people up here.

You munched on your cupcake as you meandered your way to the rail car, the one specifically tasked with bringing denizens of Belobog from one level to another as thoughts flowed through your head. They’d fly in like birds, then disappear without a trace, so you had no time to dwell on them. Ones about your future, your old home, and the expectations you had for yourself.

What is it that I want, exactly?

You weren’t quite sure. You shuddered. That dream earlier had really shaken you up.

They say people dream about what they want the most, you wondered. But was it realistic in the slightest? You didn’t think so at all.

A cloud of frosty air rose in front of your face as you let out a heavy sigh. As you were reaching the ticket gate, you rounded a corner and nearly knocked heads with an older woman. She wore a maroon leather jacket trimmed with brown mink fur that brought attention to the hood and sleeves.

She glared daggers at you, pulling her tote close to herself and mumbling something about “soot-dwellers.” Meanwhile, you did everything in your power not to let your eyes roll out of your sockets.

Straightening your back, you hopped onto the rail car, leaving the Overworld and your worries behind you.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

As the rickety screeches of the elevator subsided, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

The underground was as familiar as the back of your hand. Although you’d spent a fair bit of your years as a vagrant in the mines, Boulder Town had an air of nostalgia to it as well. The miners used to gather there for a meal and a drink after a long day’s work (although it was mostly for a drink, if your memory served you correctly).

Soot and iron flooded your nostrils in waves as you walked around the northeast corner of town. The faraway shouts of the Fight Club arena, along with the hearty laughter from the miners in the tunnels, could be heard.

And how you missed this feeling! The sighs, the smells, the feeling of belonging. It all brought memories flooding through your brain. You missed singing and dancing around a campfire with other workers— arms around each other’s shoulders, mugs of bread soda in hand— while also competing to balance as many items as you could on Peak, the lazy miner (the record was 17).

A common saying from the old folks was that Geomarrow could make your blood run hot. And honestly, you believed them. One glance around the city hammered in the impression of hot-blooded community you felt. Geomarrow was the lifeblood of Belobog, and you were proud to be a part of it every step of the way.

Surface-dwellers could never understand it, you thought to yourself smugly. But you would never say that aloud.

You blended in seamlessly here, no mannerism you’d learned as a child going forgotten. You fell back into your usual swaggering gait, patting the backs of every old friend you came across. There was Seele, arguing with some poor member of Wildfire right next to the grocery stand; Hook, who was running at full speed alongside two other children, and you could’ve sworn you spotted a flash of someone with dark blue hair and green eyes before they vanished into a dark alleyway.

Old neighbors and colleagues greeted you, which made you smile. In the Underworld, there were no formal titles that you had to remember. Nobility? Never heard of it. If you were self-made down here, it was no joke.

Speaking of self-made, Miss Natasha was the real deal.

After nailing a good amount of posters to the walls, you dusted the soot off of your hands and headed towards the local clinic. The shopkeeper’s bell rang as you entered.

“Hi there, Miss Natasha!” You waved, the fliers pressed tightly to your chest.

The clinician smiled gently at you. “My, my. It’s been a while, (Y/N). How’s life been treating you?”

She stood front and center of the small, cramped room. Only a few cots were occupied; your favorite one next to the Geomarrow heater seemed to beckon you to come and have a seat.

“Quite well, as a matter of fact,” you chirped. “How about you? It looks pretty empty in here… although I guess that’s a good thing,”

Natasha chuckled softly. “I’ve been healthy, thank you kindly. One of the miners actually had a baby last week,” she placed down the vial she had been holding onto a nearby table.

“That’s wonderful!” You responded, clasping your hands together. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

One of the flyers slipped out of your arms and floated slowly to the concrete floor.

“Shoot. Actually, I came down here to give you this,” you said, sheepish about your faulty attention span. You handed her a flier, which had an illustration of a bright orange Solarflower bouquet.

Natasha let out a gasp and placed a hand in front of her mouth. “My goodness. They haven’t held a Solwarm Festival in many years. I didn’t think there would be one ever again,” she beamed at you. “I would be honored to attend, (Y/N),”

You bounced happily on the balls of your feet. Somewhere in the background, the shopkeeper’s bell rang, but the noise was quickly submerged by your other thoughts.

“I’m so glad!” You jabbered on and on. “Make sure to stop by the florist’s for some free suncakes. We partnered with a local bakery this year, so hopefully we can draw in lots of business. And—,”

Natasha’s red eyes flickered towards the clinic entrance behind you for a split second, which made you pause and turn your head slightly. And oh boy, were you glad you did.

Because standing in front of the clinic door was none other than Captain Gepard of the Silvermane Guards, surrounded on both sides by armored soldiers.

The captain locked eyes with you for a moment before you decided the Geomarrow heater in the corner of the room was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen in your life.

Gepard’s eyebrow raised at you quizzically.

“Miss Natasha,” said Gepard. “The Fragmentum monsters in the southernmost part of Rivet Town have been taken care of. Is there anything else you’d like us to attend to?”

He shot another glance at you. There you stood— hands behind your back while bouncing from one foot to the other— decidedly not looking at him. You prayed to Qlipoth he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from his position.

It felt decidedly strange running into him like this. You stood on one side of the room in front of a few raggedy cots, and he stood on the other, soldiers ready to back him up at a moment’s notice less than a foot behind him.

Just like the day you came to the overworld, you felt completely out of place.

Natasha pressed her hands together with a pleased expression. “Wonderful! I believe you’re all set to go for today. Thank you all for your service,”

Her smile practically lit up the room. Gepard nodded. “It’s the least we could do, Miss Natasha,”

You took the opportunity to take a small sidestep towards a rack of scrubs to hide behind.

Natasha, almost certainly sensing your jackhammering heartbeat, turned towards you, effectively gluing you to where you stood.

Shoot! She’s like an apex predator,

“So… Captain. Have you met (Y/N)?” She inquired casually. “They were one of my biggest helpers back in the day, in fact,”

You jumped in, a hint of nervousness present in your voice. “Yes, yes. We’ve met before. We’re well acquainted— and um, friends, I guess?”

You muttered a quiet, halfhearted “yeah” under your breath. You couldn’t see the soldiers’ eyes under their metal visors, but you could guarantee they were eyeing you with major secondhand embarrassment. They probably had no idea you two knew each other. Or maybe they thought that some weirdo from the underground was cozying up to their captain. Decidedly awkward, you thought.

One of them let out a raspy cough, which brought you back to your senses.

“It’s really best I get going,” you told your old caretaker. “I have to pick up an old family heirloom at my old place. Nice seeing you, Gepard,”

You smiled as best you could, but to Gepard, it appeared as if it were made of ice. Compared to how much you usually talked, the room felt frigid in the absence of your chatter.

The captain wondered what the reason could be for such visible uneasiness. But he forced himself to keep his lips shut. Now was not the time.

Natasha gave you a reassuring pat on the back as you floundered around in your head. Better to let the youngsters sort themselves out, she thought. It was about time you learned, anyway.

“Oh, before I forget,” Natasha added. “Be sure to take care around that area, dear. You may need clearance to enter. Maybe you should bring someone along with you?”

“Right, sounds good,” you replied, glossing over the last half of what she had said. You wanted to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. But Gepard’s incredible generosity could not be thwarted.

“Perhaps us guards could come with?” He offered.

You punched yourself mentally at not hightailing it out of there earlier.

“I’m sure its fine. There’s really no need to trouble yourselves—,” you said, waving your arms about.

Gepard didn’t falter in the slightest. “The leader of Wildfire herself said it may be dangerous, and it is imperative to us that the safety of Belobog’s citizens is ensured. We’d like to help if we can,”

Ouch. He was right on the money. Natasha’s powers of suggestion were seriously unmatched. The instructions her smile hid were very, very thinly veiled.

Your shoulders fell as you deflated. “Okay, fine,”

Gepard dipped his head, and all the Silvermane Guards tapped the butt ends of their halberds on the floor in unison, causing the ceiling to shake. A ceramic vase tipped over, causing the flower inside to meet its unfortunate end. You looked at it mournfully.

“Wait—,” you paused. “How many of you are coming, exactly?”

“As many as you need,” Gepard replied, tapping his fist to his chest.

You felt a wave of panic rising in your throat at the horrifying vision of being surrounded and jostled around by an entire squad of soldiers. “Oh, there’s no need for you all to come. Just one or two is fine, thank you,”

You imagined your old neighbors peering out their windows at you and gasping at the notion that you had been arrested.

“…you know what? Maybe just one is fine,”

“Understood,” said the captain. “You four may go back to your posts. I’ll accompany (Y/N) to Rivet Town,”

You cursed the goddess of fortune for choosing this exact moment to smite you.

Normally you’d be happy to see him, but all of these soldiers standing around were giving you a major freak-out. To make matters even more stressful, each of these people directly served the Supreme Guardian.

Of all people to have a gigantic crush on, why’d it have to be one of Belobog’s most incredible and amazing people?? You sighed. Why couldn’t you have fallen for that weird guy who stood by the Everwinter Monument every day? He was waaay closer to your league.

You gave Gepard a queasy thumbs-up.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

Humming an old mining song was the only thing keeping you distracted from Gepard’s shining presence beside you.

Now that the other guards were gone, it should be alright, you thought. But you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation for some reason.

Easy now, (Y/N). Yes, the object of your unrequited love is walking right next to you. But it could be worse. It could be an automaton Direwolf!

So why was it so damn hard to talk all of a sudden??

He didn’t look like a Direwolf, even though he was as tall as one, you thought. You narrowed your eyes at him as you walked to double check.

Gepard glanced down at you with a questioning “hm” that almost made you keel over.

Curses. This was overwhelming.

Additionally, your original hypothesis was proven correct a few months ago. Gepard was a big softie at heart. He’d even get down in the dumps when his flowers would inevitably die (which hadn’t happened recently, thanks to you.)

You wondered if he ever worried about other people’s opinions. He was so kind and considerate, it pained you to imagine him getting the brunt of public backlash as such an influential figure.

Knowing him, he probably didn’t. But if he did, he would likely hide it to avoid burdening others. He wasn’t exactly the type to expose his soft underbelly, after all.

You hoped that if anything came up, he’d consider reaching out to you. The man who was Belobog’s iron defense always went above and beyond for the people. But he ought to have someone looking out for him, too.

Scoffing at yourself, you shook your head. Gepard really brought out a slew of worries in you. You did your best to swallow down the lump in your throat when suddenly, you were hit with the nostalgic smell of your old favorite food cart.

Was that grilled olm?? Your mind kicked into high gear. Your stomach let out a loud growl as if to protest the fact that you’d only had a cupcake for breakfast.

You turned to your companion with a pleading look in your eyes. “Oh man, I’m starving. Gepard, would you mind if I made a stop for some grub real quick? I promise it won’t be long!”

“Not at all,” he responded. Without a second to waste, you took off running towards the corner of town where all the food stalls were gathered.

Gepard looked from afar with a pensive look on his face. You’d always held a sort of confidence in the way you walked, but here, in your second hometown, you flitted from stall to stall with an aura of familiarity he had never seen before. You had no problem dodging obstacles that cropped up from nowhere; Gepard, however, felt like his limbs were made of wood as he tried in vain to catch up to you. His eyes had widened hilariously as he stepped into a pothole and his arms went flying in the air.

“Oh my gosh,” you exclaimed while offering your arm out to him for balance. You bit back a laugh at his flushed cheeks. “Would you want to sit down while I wait in line?”

He accepted your offer graciously, and took a seat at one of the low-seated tables by a chain link fence.

You gawked as you watched the Silvermane Guard Captain willingly plant himself at a kiddie table. Gepard could barely fit his knees under it, making him stick out like a giant rock crab.

But you were rudely jostled from your thoughts, as just when you were about to order, two men shouldered right in front of you. You recognized the red leather jackets they wore, symbolizing they were fight club combatants.

Ugh. Scott’s boys. Many knew all too well about his unsavory business practices. Some got involved because they had no choice. Others joined because they wanted the power. You had stayed far away from the institution, preferring to run with a more respectable crowd.

One of the men had chopped brown hair and messy stubble, while the other had blonde hair cut in a mullet. Although you couldn’t tell he was blonde at first, because almost every strand was coated in coal dust. You pinched your nose shut at the smell of motor oil and grease.

They were busy chatting up the vendor with no hint of shame at what they’d done. Your eyes narrowed as you saw one of them shoot a glance at you out of the side of his eye.

They knew damn well what they’d done.

You weren’t going to take this shit from a couple of Luka wannabes, you decided.

Before the brown-haired man could finish ordering, you rapped him on the shoulder harshly. He paused for a short moment to turn his head towards you.

“Excuse me,” you said with a hint of disdain. “I couldn’t help but notice you happened to jump the line,”

The man turned without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. “…and a plate of Belobog sausages with extra sauerkraut—,”

Your eye twitched.

“Hey, you,” you interjected, tapping him again. “The line starts back there. Have you considered getting your eyes tested?”

“It’s just food, love,” he replied. The man paused for a second to spit a glob on the ground next to your shoe. Your lip curled in disgust.

“I see your mother never taught you manners,” you hissed.

The people behind you were starting to murmur.

You clenched your fist at your side as you stared him down, but before you could break his nose, you remembered that Gepard was still sitting by himself at the kiddie table.

You sighed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to get into a fight in front of a refined young noble such as himself. He might have a heart attack.

Unfortunately, the brown-haired man wasn’t finished with you. He grabbed your coat collar and yanked you towards him as his companion snickered. You could make out every scar and every bead of sweat on his face.

Sheesh. Overkill, if you ask me.

“Look man, I’m sorry, okay?” You scowled. “Cut in line all you want. You’re the big man. Happy now?”

Okay, you had to admit that wasn’t the best apology in the world. But you would’ve vomited had you made it any nicer.

He snorted, reaching a calloused hand towards your messenger bag. “Yeah? Well, I oughta teach you not to—,”

You scraped the front of his shins as hard as you could with the inside of your steel-toed utility boots.

The man roared like a wounded bear and released your collar, enabling you the opportunity to push yourself away. As he fought through the haze of pain, he readied his stance to fling himself at you, when Gepard’s metal gauntlet pushed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do we have a problem here?” Your companion asked.

His blue eyes narrowed threateningly at the man, who was currently fighting Gepard’s iron grip. If the captain had let go at that moment, he would have absolutely torn you to shreds.

Murmurs began to erupt from the crowd, such as, “Why is the captain here?” And “serves him right,”

The man snarled again, frothing at the lips. This time, he went for Gepard, wrapping both hands around his throat. You witnessed his expression contort in surprise, and your hackles raised higher than they ever had.

Thinking on your feet, you grabbed the nearest plate of food— which happened to be Frostweave Salmon with cocktail sauce— and threw a large fillet at the man. It hit him square in the face, temporarily stunning him. Sure, it wasn’t a taser, but it was the best you could do.

His blonde-haired companion, having a better sense of self preservation than he did, yanked him backward and away from Gepard. One downward glance at his plethora of medals told him all he needed to know. He signaled at his friend to retreat for the time being, and they slunk away, shooting glares full of venom at you as they went.

You snuck a peek at the vendor, who was currently cowering behind the condiment station. She motioned to you with her hand:

Just go.

Slipping a few shields on the counter for the trouble, you sped off towards Rivet Town once more.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

“Want one?” You asked Gepard. You held up a limp fillet about 20cm away from his face.

“No, but thank you for the offer,” he declined politely. Your cheeks were still flushed with heat from the subsiding chaos.

“I appreciate your help, by the way,”

“Think nothing of it,” he said, in usual Gepard fashion. The captain’s forward gaze didn’t waver in the slightest.

You soon reached the Rivet Town checkpoint run by two automaton hounds and a few vagrants with shovels. After quickly looking over your papers, they allowed you to enter the premises.

Ever since the disaster, the town had remained eerily silent. Even though it was safe, the only noise you could pick up was your own footsteps. You were so used to the background noise of gears grinding and metal squealing loudly, that the fact that you could hear your own breathing made a chill creep up your spine.

The creepy ambience aside, the salmon was awfully bland, you thought, while munching solemnly. The texture was that of something that had been frozen and thawed multiple times. You were disappointed the quality had dipped so low since you’d left.

“(Y/N), are you feeling alright?” Gepard’s voice rang out of the blue.

You nearly choked on a chunk of fish. “What? No, why?”

He looked at you with horror in his eyes. Realizing your mistake, you jumped in faster than you could say “chicken and mushroom skewer.”

“YES. I mean, yes! I’m okay, why do you ask?” You crammed the rest of the salmon in your mouth and tossed the empty plate in the nearest dumpster.

“Please excuse me for being intrusive, but you’re usually… a bit more talkative, perhaps?” Gepard said, scratching his chin. He had an instinctive desire to rest a hand on your shoulder, but you seemed farther away from him than usual, both physically and emotionally.

“I guess I do, huh?” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m okay, just a little tired, I guess. Thanks for worrying, though,”

Gepard’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, but he didn’t want to intrude.

Meanwhile, you lamented at your emotional communication skills rivaling that of a five-year-old’s. You’d better pick up the slack before he started to suspect something.

As you continued on your not-so-leisurely stroll, you came across an open clearing, with nothing but a single food cart in the middle. It seemed to be fully operational, with steam still rising from the griddles.

The sight completely baffled Gepard.

“What reason would a food cart have to be all the way out here?” He asked.

“Oh, that?” You said, turning to look at the cart. The sight would’ve appeared completely eerie to a normal person; the cart had no wheels, and yet there weren’t any visible marks indicating it had been dragged from somewhere. “That’s Belobog Burritos, of course!”

“Belobog… Burritos?” He wondered aloud.

“Yep. It’s a food stall that’s kind of an urban legend. Been here as long as I can remember,” you shrugged. “It sits there every day, no owner or anything, but there’s always freshly made food. Even when the town went under, it was still up and running,”

You waved your hands in his face in a vague gesture that he assumed was supposed to be spooky. His irises made a concentrated effort to follow your every motion.

“…or so I’ve heard,” you continued. “Apparently, if you get something from the stall, you have to pay in full or some seriously bad stuff starts happening to you,”

Gepard cast a stiff look back at the cart, feeling his blood run as cold as ice. He suppressed a shudder and continued walking. But the thought kept weighing on his mind as he walked. He felt as if there was a lump in his throat, preventing him from breathing in all the way.

Jeez, he looks pretty shaken up, you thought as you stole a glance at him after a few minutes. His face was a few shades paler than it had been previously, and his neck was all stiff. It looked like he was trying his best to not be scared (and failing miserably).

Maybe you could hold his hand to make it less scary, a part of you whispered slyly.

You beat that internal voice with a sledgehammer as soon as it surfaced.

I guess I’ll check if he’s okay,

You tried to lay a hand on his deltoid, but completely missed and firmly patted his lower back— which was much more intimate a gesture than you’d attempted. Gepard’s shoulders flew upwards in a flash as he curled them in towards his chest, and his eyes blew wide open.

“Gyeep!” He let out a strangled shriek through clenched teeth.

Your jaw fell open.

“Oh, shit!” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to— I mean, are you alright?”

His armor rattled with how heavily he was breathing as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sheesh, you had never seen him this shaken before.

Gepard’s face burned like a furnace. “I’m perfectly fine. Just ill at ease,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dabbing at his forehead with it.

That didn’t do much to convince you that bringing him had been the right idea. You sighed. Gepard really was too kind for his own good.

Holding out your elbow at a right angle, you made a small offer to reassure him.

“Want to hold on to me until we get there?” You asked. “It’s okay if you’re scared, you know,”

You glanced around at the old, ruined buildings, which were surrounded by barbed wire and rubble. The whole area felt hostile, even to you.

“I don’t blame you, honestly. This place is pretty freaky,” you said with a short laugh.

“Okay,” Gepard paused. “If it’s alright with you,”

You smiled warmly at him. “Go ahead,”

He raised his arm and gingerly placed a hand on your bicep, curling his fingers slightly around it for a better grip.

“There! You have nothing to fear now,” you said reassuringly. Gepard blushed. He wanted nothing more than to beat himself up for falling apart in front of you in such an uncouth manner.

You continued walking towards your destination; this time, his heartbeat felt a bit more relaxed with you at his side.

After a short while, the ruined structure of your old home appeared looming from the dark. As a monument to the destruction, the skeletal building almost seemed to reach towards the false sky above.

“Quaint, isn’t it,” you joked, turning towards Gepard. Looking at the house in its entirety, the shutters were missing from the windows, the roof was nonexistent, and the chimney had been mostly reduced to a pile of bricks. It was entirely unsalvageable from a realist’s perspective.

The captain studied your features carefully— you showed no traces of hurt or anger that would normally be present at such a scene.

It puzzled him, how you were able to maintain such a cheerful demeanor when a building that was supposed to represent comfort and safety was torn completely to shreds. He was filled with admiration at how well you had held yourself together.

“Let’s go in,” you said. You nudged away the splintered wood door with your elbow and stepped into the building— you really hoped it hadn’t been ransacked while you were away.

Gepard’s hand dropped reluctantly to his side. He followed suit, scanning the interior for any structural instabilities.

“What are you searching for?” He inquired.

You were busy bending down over a fallen bookshelf with books scattered in its midst. You analyzed the wreckage; a few ceramic teacups and saucers lay crushed under the impact zone, which you took care to avoid.

You brushed a few coal-black cobwebs out of your way that made you want to pull your skin off. “Just an old phonograph. It meant a lot to me as a kid, so I figured it was time I went back for it,” you said, not bothering to mention the dream you’d had that morning.

As much as you wanted to deny it, it almost felt like the phonograph was the one part of the dream that could come true. Hearing the music you listened to in your childhood again wasn’t a hard thing to accomplish, but that lovely, soft feeling that had blanketed your heart when you had realized that Gepard was waiting for you in that kitchen— you didn’t think you could recreate that.

Considering your dream would never, ever happen.

You felt disappointment form a hard lump in your stomach.

When did I start believing in a pipe dream? You wondered. Natasha would scold you for chasing such nebulous goals.

“I got a promotion recently too. I was actually considering moving out and getting an apartment instead of staying at the florist’s. It gets crowded there sometimes,” you said offhandedly.

“You got promoted?” Gepard replied, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He hadn’t heard anything about this, even with Serval serving as the best grapevine around.

“Yeah, I did!” You said happily. “I totally forgot to mention it because—,”

I’ve been avoiding you since we went to the museum, whispered your inside voice.

“I… wanted to surprise the others,” you drabbled, your shoulders drooping the slightest bit. But you picked them up as fast as you could.

“Of course,” he said. “You have my sincerest congratulations,”

That sent another pang of guilt through you. He was so incredibly earnest. And here you were, lying straight to his face in order to keep him at an arm’s distance. All because your own feelings were too much to handle.

You needed something to take your mind off the situation, and quickly.

“Hey, check this out!” You said with a little more artificial enthusiasm than you’d intended. “This photo is practically ancient!”

You hoisted an old sepia photo of you and your grandmother in front of your chest. You were watching her lift a tray of cookies into the oven in the kitchen. There was a huge variety of sweets, including chocolate buckeyes, and coconut macarons. You missed her baking more than anything.

In the picture, your grandma wore a simple lilac apron, decorated lovingly with white lace around the edges. It was incredibly well-made; you’d had trouble finding one of similar quality ever since (even though the goods were supposed to be super high-end in the overworld).

Gepard, however, had lost all ability to speak, completely blown away by the piece of your past you had so voluntarily let him see.

You looked so joyful as a child, completely free of expectations that would have been bestowed upon you had you been raised as a noble, like him. That wide, toothless smile held treasures he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“So cute…” you muttered softly. You quietly removed the picture from its frame and slipped it into your bag, where you felt it rest alongside your old pickaxe that you brought with you everywhere.

Running a quick check in the tiny hall closet, you thought you heard the high-pitched sound of ice cracking in the kitchen.

Weird, you thought, poking your head around the corner to take a better look. But what you saw nothing short of baffled you.

An ice-type Fragmentum creature, donning the damaged apron of your beloved grandmother, stood in front of the oven range. The kitchen itself was mostly intact, save for a few boxes of grains scattered about and a few appliances knocked over.

“Oh,” you started. “Son of a—,”

The creature let loose a gurgling sound from its throat and charged at you.

“Shit—!” You yelped as you scrabbled around for the nearest weapon. All reason leaving you, you completely forgot about the pickaxe in your bag. In the few seconds before it reached you, you took notice of a rusty frying pan hanging from a holder on the wall. Mimicking Gepard, you swung it with every drop of strength in your body and landed a forceful whack on the side the monster’s head.

The sound of metal on metal rang out all through the house. Bits of ice fell off the creature, sizzling with eerie smoke as they hit the tiled floor.

The figure struggled to regain its balance, reaching its icy claws toward your face. You could feel the icy chill radiating off of them, stealing your heat away.

That’s my heat, you bastard!

Gepard, having certainly heard the commotion, came speeding into the room like the cheetah he was named after. You were clinging onto the back of the monster, which was bucking you around like a Voidranger in a futile attempt to dislodge you.

In a sudden burst of effort, it flung you backwards and sent you careening into one of the cabinets. Bits of rotten wood showered on you from the impact, and a stray spice bottle hit you on the head. You disgustedly spit out the sawdust that had snuck into your mouth and caked your tongue.

The captain desperately scanned the room for something to use. The kitchen was far too small to activate his shielding device, so he wrapped his arms around the nearest table and hurled it straight at the icy foe (all while praying you wouldn’t be furious at him afterward for ruining your kitchen).

Thankfully, the table made an excellent weapon. It sent the monster sprawling across the floor with a creaking groan. Gepard then launched himself at it and pinned it to the floor with his arms.

Unfortunately, the enemy hadn’t quite given up yet. It wrestled one of its arms free of Gepard’s grasp and reached its clawed hand to slice at his lower legs. In a strange fit of ingenuity, you grabbed your pickaxe out of your bag, wedged it under the Fragmentum creature’s head, and just like a bottle cap— you twisted its head clean off.

Letting out a sickening crack, the monster’s head rolled leisurely across the floor and bonked into an open cabinet door. You nearly vomited at the sight.

Now unoccupied, Gepard rushed to your side. “Are you—,” he started.

“Yeah,” you choked out. “I’m okay,”

You clutched your chest while letting out wheezing gasps.

The captain glanced around the area worriedly. “I think it’s best we get going. There could very well be more monsters around here,”

“Wait—,” you gasped, scrambling to your feet. “I think— I think I found it,”

You peered into the cabinet that had been violently smashed o pieces. Something glinted at you from the debris— but a grinding sound came from outside that made your hair on your neck stand completely on end.

Bending down, you brushed away the wood chips from the spice cabinet and successfully uncovered the old phonograph. It was in decent condition, aside from a few screws missing, and your family’s record collection lay right beneath it.

“Ah, classic gran,” you said aloud. She did have a habit of putting things in the wrong places, after all. That saved you from having to check the upstairs floor.

“Okay, now let’s go,” you declared. You crammed as much of the device as you could into your bag, the horn still handing out of the flap, and made a mad dash for the front door. Gepard’s armor rattled as he followed suit.

We better tell the guards about this, you thought while your feet pounded against the pavement. Your breath condensed in large clouds as your throat burned with the taste of iron.

You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if Gepard was still following, just in time to see his eyes widen in horror.

Your boots left long marks in the dirt as you skidded to a halt. There you stood, aghast, as you realized what greeted you wasn’t the exit— but an automaton Direwolf.

It stood tall and menacing, with steam pouring out its joints and pistons that fired like a heartbeat. As a piece of technology from the old world, no one fully understood how they worked, not even denizens of the Robot Settlement, who modified and repaired them for a living. It made dealing with hostile ones a living hell.

“By the Architects,” Gepard swore. “(Y/N), find somewhere to hide, quickly!”

You obliged, opting for the nearest shelter that happened to be a pile of crates and barrels to the right of him. You crouched like a bear cub with your knees pressed to your chest as you tried to get a grasp on the situation from your location. Your companion was gearing up to ready himself for battle.

Shit. I need an opening to activate Earthwork, Gepard thought. He hoisted the barrier-device-slash-guitar-case defensively. I have no one to cover for me here,

The aggressor made of meshing cogs eyed him ominously through its crosshair. He eyed it back, the gaze of a predator in his eyes. He refused to falter, even minutely. Doing so would mean death for the both of you.

It raised its one chainsaw arm with a thundering roar, and the battle began.

The earth shook tremendously with every step as it sped forward, full-throttle. Gepard’s heart thrummed as he tried to consider all his options, but it was closing the distance faster than he could formulate his thoughts. He couldn’t roll right or risk giving away your position, or dodge too much and risk leading it towards the settlements. But a solid hit to one of the leg joints would slow it down considerably.

The automaton Direwolf swung ferociously at the captain, cutting large glowing divots in the nearby boulders that sizzled as they touched the surrounding air. Steam hissed, loud and high-pitched in your ears, bringing out a type of instinctual fear from within you.

A grimace crossed Gepard’s features. Direwolves were built for speed, so there was no chance you could both outrun it. Additionally, there was nothing that could escape the gaze of its optical sensor with so little cover around. He was going to have to fight it head-on.

It raised its mechanical arm to strike once more. The captain grasped his battering ram firmly by the handle, and swung it in a large arc. It landed a solid blow in between the metal plates that comprised its abdominal area, and sparks showered in the air, suggesting a sufficient amount of damage had been dealt.

The now open wires sizzled as the automaton staggered backwards. Gepard wasted no time seizing the opportunity; he was relentless in his following sequence of attacks, aiming for the most vital points concealed within the machinery.

He ducked under its flailing limbs and struck a heavy blow on the machine’s back. But it swiveled its torso around unexpectedly, without moving its legs even a millimeter, and swung at him again, leaving deep scores in the earth. Gepard skidded out of the way, leaving his cape billowing wildly behind him with the following dust cloud.

Your eyes flickered around the area as clangs and thuds rang out around the clearing. You reached a mitten-clad hand out tentatively to slink along the ground, but retracted it as white-hot sparks showered your exposed forearm. You had to make your next move, and quickly.

There was no way Gepard could win a battle of endurance. Not even with his superhuman amount of stamina. You almost called out to him, but halted when you realized it could easily draw the Direwolf’s attention to you. And you had nothing but your old pickaxe in your bag to defend yourself with.

You had to get help. It made no difference if it was the vagrants with shovels or the entirety of the Silvermane Guards. You had to make sure Gepard got out safe.

You ran a quick scan over the area; there were a few other piles of debris that were sizable enough to stay out of the monster’s field of view. If you could just make it to the exit, you’d be free to call for help.

Ducking your head, you sprinted to the closest pile and dove behind it. You snuck a quick peek at the scene. Gepard was still holding his own. Good.

This time around, you hid behind a barrel laying on its side. A patch of metal lattice fell over with a loud crash due to the shockwaves of the fight, but the machine paid you no mind.

Finally, you resorted to shuffling on your hands and knees to crawl just out of view behind a tarp that was almost threadbare. By this point, your pants were ripped and your knees were bleeding, picking up bits of rocks and glass that stuck to your sticky skin. But you ignored it. You were in the homestretch. The guards couldn’t be too far away now, they had probably heard all the commotion and—

You heard a loud thud that made your limbs completely freeze over.

Trembling, you turned ever-so-slightly behind you. You caught sight of a stray barrel rolling over to bump itself on your foot, followed by a pained groan that stole your breath right from your throat.

Gepard?

In the dim lighting, you could vaguely make out a figure clad in silver and gold, laying limply against a wall, a few broken crates on each side. Fire flickered in the background, illuminating the barrier device laying discarded on the ground, just out of arm’s reach for him.

You noticed something drip down slowly from the top of his head and soak into his fur collar, staining it a bright crimson. His eyes were closed, and he was showing no signs of moving.

Blood… that was definitely blood.

Time seemed to grind to a halt around you. Your knees threatened to give out, and you could only vaguely make out the sound of your own voice— screaming, wailing— something that wasn’t quite words. The sounds from the enemy machine sounded muffled, as if they were deep underwater, in a world different from your own.

Shaking profusely, you became aware of just how much fear had saturated your body. But you had to keep moving. The captain was alive until proven otherwise.

And you would hang on until the very end.

You ground your teeth together and made a quick sweep of the area. There was a package of dynamite that miners used to blow apart piles of debris to your right, but you had nothing to light it with. Even if you did, you didn’t trust your aim enough to keep Gepard out of the blast radius. To your left lay some books, a radio, and— an oddly shaped rock?

Whatever. It was just the right size for throwing.

You stuffed it in between your arms and pushed aside another book just in time to spot one of the old flares the miners used to use.

Yes! That could be your saving grace.

Your arms wavered so much that you thought that they might fall out, but you had to keep going. Gepard’s life was on the line.

You whipped back around and cranked your arm back far as it could go, when suddenly, you felt something whir and vibrate in your palm— and a strange mechanical voice rang out in your ear.

“Hello,” said the voice, which seemed to be coming from your palm. “I am Findie, model 17703 of the home-finding series. Please input your instructions, and I will locate whatever you are looking for!”

You whipped the rock(?) in front of your face. One of the gears rotated, as if it were waving “hi” to you.

“What the FUCK??” You roared in surprise.

A rock was a rock, no matter how much it yapped, you decided. You twisted the cap off of the fuse, wound your arm up, and chucked the rock with the fury of a blizzard.

“Over here, asshole!” You screamed. Your fear tore through your body like a tornado, threatening to tear you apart.

Fury rolled off of you in waves as you held the fuse high above your head. Clouds of red smoke rose into the air and billowed around you, swirling around your dust-covered face.

The rock landed square on the machine’s metal head with a loud tang.

The machine turned towards you menacingly for a short moment, but immediately refocused on the prey directly in front of it.

Shit. That was bad.

You scrabbled on the ground for anything you could get your hands on. A lantern? That would do. A plank of wood? Why not. Who gave a shit at this point??

Anything that would get you out of there and safe and sound. You’d promised you would help Serval with an invention later that week, and you weren’t one to break your promises.

The items bounced off of the machine one after another. It would halt its movements every time one made contact, but you were running out of things to throw.

Tears and ash clogged your eyes, but you wouldn’t let up, even for a second. Not until every bone in your body was forcefully broken and you were bruised and battered into next month.

“Get your GRUBBY HANDS off of him!” You roared. Tears and snot were streaming down your face now, and your entire body screamed at you to run, escape, anything. But you forced your feet to stay rooted to the ground where they were.

Gepard’s head lolled weakly to the side. You choked as you assumed the worst had come to fruition, and you felt as if the world was crumbling around you.

You were in the middle of chucking a portable radio at the thing when you heard the smattering of feet heading in your direction. You gasped as a wayward antenna poked you right in the eye.

Soldiers. And a lot of them, at that.

Guards in Silvermane uniforms stormed the clearing, waving around halberds, cannons, and muskets galore. Without wasting a second, the cannoneers let out a barrage of attacks that nearly blew both of your ears off.

“Backup is here, Captain!” One of the soldiers announced. You spotted a slight movement from the spot where he lay.

Another wave of firing went off. Cannonballs embedded themselves in the joints of the machine, inhibiting its movement— it began to creak and sway on its feet. Evidently enough, it realized that the most imminent threat came from the squadron of soldiers that had arrived, rather than Gepard, who was likely unconscious.

The main soldier continued issuing orders. You watched him, completely enraptured, from behind. You hardly noticed as a Silvermane gunner snuck up from behind you, and shuttled you somewhere out of harm’s way.

Soldiers had successfully managed to surround the automaton, impeding its movement. The Direwolf stamped its feet in confusion at the sudden commotion.

Shots rang out once more, and several nets weighed down by iron balls wrapped around the machine— along with a grappling hook that tied its legs together with a cord. But the machine sliced through the feeble wires with little effort.

As you took a step back, something clanked against your thigh from inside your bag. You gasped, turning to the soldier beside you with a realization.

“You have to disable the control panel,” you said, recalling your previous knowledge of when you worked in the mines.

“We’re more than aware of that,” he said curtly. He turned back to the battlefields without as much as another word.

“Yes, but the door to the panel is impervious to attacks. Could you take out the optical sensor on its face, maybe?”

The guard sighed, but shouted to the nearest cannoneer to aim a shot towards its face. An explosion burst from the area where the attack had landed. The automaton was now twitching violently with its sensors disabled.

Gepard, who was slowly regaining consciousness, sensed the sudden halt in activity. It was far noisier than it had been previously, the shouts of men and the clanging of metal made his head throb with pain. Sticky red liquid coated his falling eyelids, staining his vision red. The captain ignored the pounding in his skull and forced himself to his feet.

I… have to… I’m… still.. needed…

His body groaned with effort. He fought through the haze of pain and commanded his eyes to focus.

Earthwork was just a hair’s breath away. All he had to do was grab it.

Qlipoth… give me strength!

The captain mustered every ounce of courage in his body, bracing his arm against a nearby wall for support. Blood dripped down his face with even more fervor, but he wiped it off with his glove, sending a few small droplets smattering to the ground.

“The captain— he’s alive!” One of the men cheered. You gasped as you saw him stagger to his feet.

Gepard willed his muscles to move and dove in between the machine’s legs. He snatched his weapon and spun, quickly smashing it in one of its knees. The Direwolf lost its footing and toppled over immediately.

“Captain, use this!”

Gepard swiveled, surprised to hear the voice coming from not one of his own soldiers, but you.

Your pickaxe sailed through the air and clattered on the ground at his feet.

“Use it to break into the control panel on its chest,” you instructed with a shout. “There should be an emergency off switch right in the center!”

He grabbed the tool, but instead of using it to pry open the door to the circuit breaker, he punched it repeatedly with the metal gauntlet on his right hand until the steel door crumpled like a piece of paper. Your jaw dropped in shock at the sheer ferocity of the sight.

Clinging to the machine’s torso, Gepard scanned the machine’s chest cavity for the switch. But bundles and bundles of wires blocked his view.

The gigantic machine began to rumble. Gepard had to act, urgently. There wasn’t enough time to search for the switch, but he had to do something.

As thoughts fired through his brain like lightning, he had an idea. He could use the pickaxe to hook under the wires and pull them out. If he used his hands, his metal gauntlet would likely act as a lightning rod and thoroughly fry him, but the pickaxe’s handle was entirely made of wood. It was a decent shot.

The captain held the pickaxe with both his hands and used it to dig under the nest of wires, using his legs to anchor him to the machine— and yanked backwards until the threads snapped. He did it again, this time winding them around the pickaxe like spaghetti before pulling once again.

The machine fizzled and popped, its lights flickering before finally succumbing to the damage and collapsed, leaving enormous dust clouds in its wake. You covered your mouth with your shirt to avoid breathing them in.

Gepard’s chest heaved with great effort, and three guards hurried to his side, immediately, shouting things like, “Captain, are you injured?” And “Captain, we were so worried!” You were surprised at just how much emotion the usually stoic guards’ voices held when dealing with their leader.

The young noble let out an enormous sigh of relief. As soldiers practically swarmed him on all sides, one offered their shoulder for him to lean on, and they hobbled back towards the Silvermane Guard camp together.

You were barely aware of the sensation of someone throwing a blanket around your shoulders (even though you were still sweating buckets), and leading you to another location. You figured this was the secondary location of the Silvermane Guards’ camp, reserved for dealing with the public.

Said location was farther than Gepard than you had hoped it would be, but you couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. You were dropped off at an inconspicuous tent that was complete with snacks and apple juice to await further instructions. You felt much like a lost child.

The tent had a few tarps and blankets on the ground to shield you from the cold, hard ground, which would suck the heat out of any living thing that it came into contact with. It also included a stack of down pillows in the corner, which you readily surrounded yourself with, stacking a few to prop yourself up like a makeshift recliner. They definitely weren’t the softest things in the world, but they offered a welcome respite for your aching bones.

Although the tent’s canvas was reasonably thick, voices still managed to make their way in from outside. Bits and pieces of conversations, mostly about the incident and how you were faring. You wish they’d just ask you, honestly.

The next time you heard someone’s voice, you took the opportunity to creep out of your tent and ask them how Gepard was doing. The recipient of your questioning was power-walking with a few rifles in their arms that were likely being brought back to the barracks.

You lifted a hand to get their attention. “Excuse me, is Gep—,”

You bit your tongue. The sheer amount of guilt that welled up in your throat was utterly stifling. You didn’t have the right to address him with so little respect after what he’d been through.

“Um…” you continued, fighting through the anxiety that threatened to close your windpipe. “Is the captain okay?”

“Captain Gepard?” The soldier turned to face you. “Yes, he has a few injuries, but he will survive,”

You let out a wheezing sigh of relief that made your knees shake. “Thank Qlipoth. What kind of injuries?”

“Well— he got his brains jostled around a little bit when his head got bashed against a wall,” the soldier mused. He had an air of casual-ness about him. “He has a few lacerations from some shrapnel as well. Did you see the one on his head? That one was real nasty,”

Nothing had prepared you for the way the ground wriggled beneath you or how your stomach flipped inside out and backwards. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as your diaphragm heaved uncomfortably. You staggered over to the scrap metal pile, where you proceeded to vomit up the meal you’d gotten from the food stall earlier.

The soldier watched as you wiped away the vile liquid dripping from your chin and turned back around.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Why the hell would you say it like that?? You glowered at him internally. He shuddered, feeling your gaze on him.

At that moment, you wanted to be anywhere else but there.

“I’ll uh— I’ll get you a cup of tea,” the soldier said apologetically. You took a seat on a wooden crate, bracing yourself by gripping its edges so tightly you thought your knuckles would freeze that way.

They came back in a heartbeat with a steaming cup of tea, as promised. It was the type commonly used in the Silvermane Guards’ rations. You drank it gratefully, elated to finally be rid of the taste of vomit in your mouth.

After you’d finished, you asked if there was anything you could help with around camp. The guard looked at you like you’d sprouted an extra head.

“H-help out? Why?” He asked. “We couldn’t possibly ask you to help out all you’ve been through, Mx. (Y/N),”

After all I’ve been through, huh?

You barked a dry laugh.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you said plainly. “You all have done so much for me. I feel like I owe it to you all,”

You clenched your fist to quell the slight bitterness that was eating at you. “Besides, the only reason I made it out of there alive was because the captain saved me,”

The soldier sighed, loaded with uncertainty at your statement. “I’m not sure, since it’s technically against protocol to enlist the help of citizens without proper reason. But firstly, you should go see the lieutenant—,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “—I believe he wanted to obtain an incident report from you, but there’s a chance he’ll have a job for you to do afterward,” he pointed you in the direction of the tent, which had a large dark blue banner flying above it.

“Right, okay,” you acquiesced. You set your cup down, dusted off your tunic, and waved the soldier goodbye. He waved back, with a slight air of confusion about what had just happened.

Meanwhile, guards milled about everywhere you went. You soundlessly slipped into the tent you had been directed to, awaiting your sentencing, sitting down in a foldable metal chair in front of a desk with a quill and an inkwell. You flinched at how cold it was.

The tents here weren’t the most comfortable thing ever, but they were much neater than the ones in the vagrant camp, where people hoarded every scrap of metal they could get their hands on. This led to tents looking more like portable junkyard balloons.

A breeze of air whisked its way inside as the tent flaps peeled open, and the lieutenant’s metal visor glowed like a flame in the lamplight. The man had to duck a fair bit so as not to act as an extra support pole inside the tent.

He set down his hefty shield with a clunk, all while sitting down in front of you. A sheaf of papers also made its appearance from his bag, and he shuffled through them with incredible dexterity (considering he wore clunky metal gauntlets on both hands).

“Hello,” the man said, raising his hand in greeting. “I’m Lieutenant Thrace Hawthorne of the 4th Division of Silvermane Guards. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be (Y/N), I presume?” He asked as he extended his other hand towards you.

You took it cautiously, keeping a close eye on his body language. “Yes, that’s me. I was instructed to come here by another guard,”

He gave you a firm handshake, but squeezed your knuckles in a way that made them throb with pain. Air hissed thinly through your teeth. “Yes, and I thank you for being here as we intended,”

You retracted your arm, eyeing the man up and down suspiciously. You couldn’t discern his facial expressions with that stupid hat in the way.

“—you are aware that the Silvermane Guards do everything in our power to maintain a safe environment for the people of Belobog, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently.

“And, in order to keep the Guards as safe as possible, we need as much information as we can get,”

You nodded.

“Good,” he said while dipping the pen nib into the inkwell. “So, I will be asking you a few questions about what happened down here today. Is that alright with you?”

You agreed, albeit not too enthusiastically. Something in your gut told you that you didn’t exactly have the option to refuse.

“I’m glad we have an understanding,” he replied smoothly. “So, what kind of business were you two conducting in Rivet Town earlier today?

You paused, scratching your chin. “I went to retrieve an family heirloom from my old home. Captain Gepard was merely accompanying me at that time,” you explained. “We intended to be in and out in less than half an hour,”

The man across from you scribbled down a few notes. “Were you aware that it was a dangerous area at the time?”

“I was not. We had been told it was largely safe,” you responded. “Threats that severe shouldn’t have been lurking there, as far as we knew,”

Lieutenant Hawthorne tutted, which rubbed you the wrong way. Just his presence made you want to itch. “Where or from whom did you receive this information?”

“No one in particular. I’d just heard word on the street,”

“Any particular people that come to mind?”

“No, sorry,” you shook your head. You’d seen far too many people on your way to recall accurately who had told you what.

“Okay. And why was Captain Gepard accompanying you at that time?”

“I was visiting Natasha, and she had said that it might be best if someone came with me, because it might not be particularly safe,”

“Ah… that Natasha,” The man mused. “Wildfire’s leader,” he said, flipping the page over. You pursed your lips at him as something twisted in your gut. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and his stupid gigantic shield.

Don’t you dare say her name like that, you hissed.

“The captain himself volunteered to go,” you jumped in quickly. “That’s just the way he—,”

You froze, realizing you’d given away more than you’d intended to. Your emotions had gotten the better of you.

Hawthorne’s gaze was unwavering through his silver visor. “Interesting… on the other hand, what is Miss Natasha like?”

This time, you thought through your words carefully. “She’s— she’s a kind woman and one of the hardest working people in the underworld. She takes care of people at every possible opportunity,”

“What’s her relationship to you?” He inquired.

“She’s the local doctor. Everyone knows her,” you said bluntly.

“Does she have any strong opinions about the Guards that you know of?” The lieutenant asked.

“Not that I’m aware,” you shook your head. “She’s never refused their help or spoken badly of them,” you explained. “She has the best intentions for everyone, no matter their background,”

Unlike you, you slimy bastard, you whispered internally.

Lieutenant Hawthorne asked you a few more questions, mostly about the automaton and the rescue, such as what color it was, if there were any discernible features, etc., before asking completely out of the blue,

“Are you romantically involved with Captain Gepard?”

“No??” You shot a look loaded with incredulity at him. “With all due respect, where did that come from, sir?”

“He’s never mentioned you before,” Hawthorne stated. His voice was like unbending steel. “An affair is unlikely, but not impossible,”

Who in their right mind would arrange a secret rendezvous in RIVET TOWN?? You snorted. This officer wasn’t worth a lukewarm bottle of rye bread soda.

“Then what is your relationship with him?”

Hah. As if I knew, you scoffed. You tried to formulate an answer as best you could.

“We’re friends. And I assume that, like most people, Gepard likes to keep his work and his life separate. That is all,” you said, your tone as flat as a sheet of paper.

“I can tell from your tone that you did not particularly enjoy those last few questions,” the man said, resting his hands on the table. “But this incident was incredibly serious. The guards may suspect some sort of foul play,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You clenched your fists at your sides so hard your knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry for asking something so intrusive. But, a word of advice, (Y/N)—,” the lieutenant said, motioning towards you. “I suggest you keep your distance from the captain for the time being. As a witness of such an alarming incident, you wouldn’t want to draw attention to yourself,”

I know that, you gritted your teeth. I’m not stupid,

“Especially considering how he was outside of his usual territory. Some might think you lured him there on purpose,”

You bit back tears, pinching the bridge of your nose to hide your quivering jaw. “Sure. I’ll keep your advice in mind, thanks,”

Turning away so that he couldn’t see your expression, you pushed aside the tent flaps with barely controlled anger.

You knew he was right. All you ever did was get Gepard into odd situations that he wasn’t equipped to deal with.

Guilt crashed over you in waves. You were a bad influence, dragging him everywhere without a spare thought for his job or reputation. And he was probably too kind to turn you down otherwise.

Did he even really like you?

You knew this thought was ridiculous, but maybe, just maybe, you had deluded yourself into believing it. It sent sharp jabs of pain through your chest that wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you tried to think around it.

You walked in circles around camp in an attempt to calm yourself down. But it didn’t work. Finally, you ran across the same soldier that had given you tea earlier, and pestered him politely enough that he finally revealed Gepard’s location to you.

You had to get word from the man himself, or you’d never find peace.

After a few minutes of walking around, you spotted a tent that had a few more soldiers milling about it than usual.

Not knowing whether or not their eyes were on you, you approached it cautiously. You crept in even though your mind wasn’t sure if you really deserved to be there.

The medical tent was dark— you had to scrunch your eyes up a fair bit to adjust to the lighting. But, using the small sliver of light filtering in from the inside, you could faintly make out the shape of Gepard lying motionlessly on a cot.

You quietly pulled a metal bin up next to his right side to serve as a shoddy chair. It was then that you realized the true extent of the damage you had done.

The captain’s head was wrapped in bandages that partially covered his left eye. A pad of gauze with adhesive tape on each side was stuck to his chin, and there was a pillow on each side of his head to keep his neck in place, along with one under him to keep him supported. Most of his armor, such as the metal breastplate and his medals, had been removed and set aside, save for the metal arm armor he wore. You wondered if someone had forgotten to remove it.

You noticed his cape hanging torn from a metal rack, and stared at it with a plaintive expression for a few. You didn’t think there was anything you were capable of doing to make this situation any better.

Sighing, you rested an elbow on your knee while tracing the outline of his hand with your free arm. He was resting so peacefully— albeit his eyebrows were a bit furrowed— maybe it would be best if you let him rest for now and came back later?

You rose to your feet quietly like a mouse. But even with a severe head injury, the captain’s perception hadn’t dampened a bit. He began to stir.

“Mmm… Franz? What is it?” He croaked weakly, his brows furrowing the slightest bit. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Franz, is that you?” The captain asked again, a little bit stronger this time. You flinched as he wined in pain. He was definitely feeling the hit he’d taken. You returned to your seat on the frosty metal bin.

“No, sorry,” you said softly. Your stomach churned like butter just looking at him. “…it’s me,”

You patted his hand gingerly, willing your tears to go away.

“(Y/N)…”

Gepard opened his eyes to get a better look in the dim lighting of the tent. You leaned over the cot, your eyes filled to the brim with guilt and ash covering your cheekbones.

“I’m… glad that you’re safe,” he rasped. The captain cleared his throat painfully.

“That’s my line, dummy,” you smiled at him, slightly relieved. But your voice was loaded with pain.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “There was a lot of… blood… as they were carrying you out,”

“I received a fairly bad cut right above my left eye,” he said. “They gave me a few stitches for it. I did hit my head pretty badly, but it’s nothing life threatening, thankfully,”

“Thanks the architects,” you sighed. “Your armor looks pretty beat up too. Are you gonna get it fixed?”

“It did its job,” Gepard replied. Lantern light hit its surface and it glinted, as if it was agreeing. “My rib cage could have cracked otherwise,”

He patted one of his ribs with his gloved hand to hammer the point home. You felt another twinge of guilt in your chest.

“R-right. Is there anything you need? Like water, y’know,” you murmured.

“I’m satisfied for now. Franz got me everything I needed earlier,” he cut you off.

“Okay,” you chewed on your lip in silence. Your hands fidgeted with nothing, as if searching for something to do.

You could tell Gepard’s eyes were trained on you, but you kept your own focused on the ground. A few chunks of dirt surrounded your feet where they had broken off from your boots that drew your attention.

Tears kept threatening to well up in your lower eyelids, but Preservation be damned— you were not going to cry right in front of him.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve, which unfortunately still smelled like bile, and feigned a cough to make the action less conspicuous.

“Y’know… I wanted to thank you for saving me back there,” you paused, staring off into the distance. “I got off with nothing but a few scratches because you kept me safe,”

Gepard hummed in acknowledgment, for he was unable to nod with his head and neck incapacitated. What you couldn’t hear, however, was how the inside of his head had whispered to him that if you had gotten injured, he would never have forgiven himself. The captain couldn’t say it outright— but he hoped that the way he gazed at you so longingly would get the message across.

With your nerves ticking at the fact he hadn’t said anything, you added, “They asked me like, a million questions before they let me go,” you chuckled lightly. It felt misplaced, but it was the best you could do to cheer him up.

Gepard didn’t seem to find the humor in it, though. His eyes stared back up at the ceiling. “Is that so?”

“Y-yeah,” you twiddled your thumbs slightly. “Some guy named Hawthorne— he sat me down for an hour or two earlier. He seemed kinda shady,”

“Oh, Lieutenant Hawthorne?” Gepard pondered. “I know of him. He may come off as a bit cunning, but he means well. Hawthorne lost his brother during the quarantine of the underworld. He just wants to keep the guards safe from any threat, so that no one has to go through the same experience he did,”

“Really?” You gasped in shock. “I guess I owe the guy an apology then,” you said, resting your head in your hands as your chest twinged with embarrassment.

“…I really jumped the gun on that one, huh?” You sighed.

“I don’t blame you,” Gepard replied. “Trusting your gut is important. And you would have more than enough reason to harbor some animosity, given the way the guards treated you all here previously,”

Something about his voice— although it wasn’t outright comforting— soothed your nerves a bit. Only someone so level-headed could reassure you so well, you laughed inwardly. Which was impressive— considering he was lying exhausted and halfway dead in front of you.

Maybe you didn’t have the right to be scared, because this was just the nature of his job (you know, the one he did every day for a living). But he was supposed to fight valiantly for Belobog’s people,

Not a single, worthless vagrant like yourself.

You kept inhaling a preparatory breath to speak, but each time the words would vanish right as they were about to exit your lips.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to spit it out.

“Gepard… I have a question to ask you,” you paused. “It’s kind of weird— but is that okay?”

The young noble’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Surely it wasn’t— no, it didn’t look like it.

That wasn’t the face of someone who was about to confess. He scolded himself mentally. This wasn’t the time or the place to be thinking about it. Instead, every hill and valley of your expression was laden with worry and pain. He wished he could sit up and take you into his arms, so he could whisk all of that pain away.

“It’s fine with me,” he said. “What is it?”

“It’s just—,” oh Aeons, this is so embarrassing, “Why is it that you hang around someone like me? If I’m being honest, I really don’t understand,”

Gepard’s mouth went dry.

“Someone like you? What might you mean by that?” He inhaled sharply.

“I’m just a troublemaker,” you replied, smiling sadly at him. “And you’re a guard. We’re as different as winter and spring,” you were taken aback almost disbelievingly.

“You’re hardly a troublemaker,” Gepard retorted. “At least, not in Serval’s sense, where she deliberately makes things harder for me,”

Okay, well, maybe not deliberately.

You grimaced. “That may be true. But, I cause you problems in other ways. Like, that time at the cafe tables. You’re a public figure, for Qlipoth’s sake! What was I thinking, pulling you up there in broad daylight?”

You clamped your mouth shut before you ran entirely out of breath. “My presence also puts a strain on your reputation. I’m from the underworld. We’re supposed to be lazy and dishonest, y’know,” you scolded. “I hear old ladies whispering about it all the time,”

You kept yammering, “Hawthorne even asked me if you were off horsing around with me because I brought you out there today,” you groaned frustratedly. “All I do is get you into weird situations,”

You were a centimeter away from pulling all your hair out.

“That’s not entirely true. I get into plenty of weird situations myself,” Gepard protested. “For instance, Serval—,”

“Stop throwing your sister under the bus!” You barked, proceeding to pinch him in the thigh.

“Agh—!” He flinched with a yelp. “As I was saying— that isn’t true in the slightest. Yes, we may have ended up in a few strange situations. But those are a rare minority of the times we spend together,” he shot back.

Gepard reached out and rested his gloved hand on your knee reassuringly, a new look coming across his face. Your heart twirled in your chest.

“Did you know that before we met, my days were largely routine… just like clockwork?” He asked.

“But you brought excitement into my life,” he declared. “Being friends with someone unaffiliated with the guards has been incredibly beneficial in terms of my own personal happi—,”

The captain cleared his throat before he gave away anything more. His cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “A-anyways,” he sputtered. “The benefits of being your companion far outweigh any drawbacks you think you might have,”

A noise of surprise escaped from your throat as you felt your face begin to heat. Wow, he sure had a way with words. But you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“I— well, what are the guards going to think about you nearly getting killed over a stupid piece of junk?!?” You blurted out, your voice breaking. The phonograph in your bag bumped against the cot at the sudden outburst.

Gepard searched your eyes in vain for what you might be feeling, but he came up completely empty. His chest fell at your distressed face.

“It’s true that the guards are tasked with many important duties,” he began, enunciating each and every word slowly. “Such as defending the union, serving the people, and enforcing the orders of the Supreme Guardian… I believe my help today would fall under the ‘serving the people’ category,”

You tilted your head at him as if to beckon him to explain further.

“We get called to track down lost pets or put up posters quite frequently, in fact. It may not be the most exciting job, but it is an honor to help the citizens of Belobog in any way, shape, or form,” he said stubbornly. “And you are one of the people, are you not?”

He defiantly exhaled through his nose. You were left looking at him, slack-jawed. He’d left you almost no room to argue.

“But— I’m not a technically a citizen of Belobog. I’m just a random vagrant from the mines!” You argued. It was a dumber point than you wanted to push, but you knew no other way to fight back.

“Belobogian creed dictates that we treat the people with respect, no matter where they should live,” the captain said without a hint of doubt. “It’s true that the previous Supreme Guardian sanctioned efforts to close off the underworld, but it was framed in the light that it would ensure the safety of the people on the surface. But it was wrong,”

Gepard sighed, feeling the weight of your words squeezing his chest. “It was my understanding that we were all just trying to survive the Eternal Freeze… but in any case, it would have been disrespectful to ignore Miss Natasha’s request to accompany you—,”

Okay, now that’s stretching it a bit, you blanched.

“—and let you go by yourself. In fact, Article 4, Section 5, Line 2 of the Silvermane Guard handbook states that—,” he blathered on. It honestly impressed you. You were helpless to do anything besides stare in disbelief as words poured from his mouth like a waterfall.

“But wh-what about the higher ups and the old folk? Won’t they get angry at you if they find out you’re hanging out with someone of my standing?” You jumped in the moment he stopped to take a breath.

“If people want to trouble themselves with our relationship, which is in fact, none of their business, I say we let them,” Gepard responded. “It is of no concern to me unless it affects you negatively. In which case, I would step in,”

He tightened his grasp on your leg. “I did not reach the station I am at by trying to please those types of meddling figures. Your background has never once concerned me, not even for a second,”

The captain locked eyes with you in such a way that you thought you’d evaporate if you averted your gaze, it was so intense.

“You are not some kind of vermin,” he proclaimed. “It pains me to see you talk about yourself like this. You are one of the Eversummer Florist’s most capable workers, and first and foremost— you are my friend,”

He finally clamped his mouth shut. Aeons, the man in front of you had no clue how much those words meant to you. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“I promise you, (Y/N). What people think will not come between us in the slightest. I will be your iron wall, whenever or wherever you may need me,” he vowed with every fiber in his body.

And that’s when tears came pouring down your face.

They streamed down your cheeks and soaked into the collar of your coat. Your body shook with sobs, your shoulders shuddering every time you drew in a breath.

It happened so fast that Gepard was completely at a loss. He stammered out a few words, horrified that he might have caused something, but all that came out were a mess of vowels.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Short cries escaped your throat that you tried to stifle with your hand, and you gripped your knees tightly, trying to still your shaking body. But it wouldn’t stop. Your chest felt tight, so tight.

“(Y/N),” Gepard said gently from his position on the cot. “(Y/N),” he called again.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered. “I’m here for you,”

All of those feelings flowed out of you like a dam had broken. He wove his thumb in circles around the fabric of your pants in a comforting gesture, easing your aching soul.

You grasped his hands suddenly with both of your own and held it to your cheek, letting the warmth of his skin through his glove calm you down. You nuzzled into the palm of his hand mournfully, tears continuing to trickle down your face, until they finally slowed to a stop, your cheeks and eyes still wet.

After the crying had subsided, leaving only the occasional hiccup, Gepard pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pant pocket and handed it to you. You blew into it loudly, giving him a congested apology afterwards.

You threw your head back to look up at the tent ceiling while blinking away any remaining tears. Willfully scrunching up your face, you let out a calming breath and returned to looking at the captain. He had a relieved look on his face.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I’m okay now. Thank you, Gepard,”

“It was the least I could do,” he said, placing his hand back down on the cot.

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “But it was more than enough,” you mustered up the best smile you could in order to reassure him.

“Um, about what you were saying earlier—,” you brought up. “If— if you say so. But the higher ups, would they withhold a promotion from you or because you were hanging out with me?”

He smiled gently at you, capturing your soul effortlessly with that simple motion. “I’m quite satisfied with being the captain of the Silvermane Guards, thank you. My deeds as a soldier stand as a testament to that,”

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your coat jacket. “Hah, I guess I was worried for nothing then,” you said with a hint of frustration. “How silly of me,”

Gepard reached up and patted your head reassuringly, causing your eyes to widen. “The fault isn’t all yours. I appreciate you being so considerate, but it’s not your job to protect me,”

He put such meaning into every word he said. Such an admirable way of life.

You swatted his hand away lightheartedly. “Yeah? Well, it’s not your job to protect me, then,” you sniffed. You stuck your tongue out at him as far as it would go, which elicited a short laugh from Gepard.

Aeons, that smiling face was priceless. You could just lean over and kiss him right on that cot.

The smile faded from your face, replaced with something else now. You reached over him and wiped some stray hairs from his face using your single clean glove, watching them fall back into place with a satisfied look.

As you were retracting your arm— much to your surprise— he gently lifted one of his hands and placed it to yours, palm-to-palm. His fingers were slightly bent, so they wrapped around to the back of your hand. A smile danced on your lips; your face and neck much warmer than previously.

You clasped your hand entirely around his, admiring his soft smile. It was so warm and dreamy, a rare ember in a world as cold and hard as Jarilo-VI— a planet so unlike its namesake.

Just when you were stroking the side of his hand with your thumb, you heard a deep rumble (or maybe it was more like a growl?) from your companion’s stomach region.

Gepard went as red as a tomato.

“Captain… I thought you said you didn’t need anything?” You squinted your eyes at him accusingly at the realization.

Gepard internally cursed himself.

Sighing, he said,

“…maybe some porridge will do, thank you,”

BONUS:

“Ugh,” you grunted. “C-captain, you’re heavy! Franz, can you help me get him up real quick?”

Lieutenant Hawthorne, who was walking by the tent at the time, heard shuffling and something that sounded like a grunt of protest from the captain.

“Truly, (Y/N). I can sit up by myse—,”

“NO,” exclaimed both your and Franz’s voices loudly. Hawthorne stopped in his tracks.

“May I at least hold the spoon?” Gepard pleaded. Hawthorne could see your silhouettes from the lantern light cast upon the tent’s walls. You had your hands on your hips as Franz held a bowl and a tray behind you.

You snorted. “In your dreams. I got you all banged up, so it’s my job to take care of you. If I leave you be, you’ll just overwork yourself until you pass out again!”

“May I remind you, that was but a singular instance when—,”

“Lalalalala!” You sang obnoxiously. “I can’t hear you!”

“(Y/N), I beg of you. I must maintain my dignity,” he implored one last time.

“Here comes the Astral Express!” Hawthorne heard you shout, completely overshadowing the captain.

The tent went silent for a moment.

“It’s good, right?” You asked after a short pause.

“…yes,”

Th lieutenant chuckled to himself and continued on his way.

BONUS 2: Belobog Central Hospital

“…and as long as you take care of yourself, you should be good to go in about two weeks,” said the head nurse to Gepard, who was just finishing up giving him the synopsis of his condition. “We’ll be monitoring your condition for the time being, okay? Head injuries are nothing to joke about,”

He agreed. The captain lay in a hospital bed with a neck brace and one leg elevated with a foam wedge, which, frankly, he thought was overkill, considering he was able to walk to the camp.

A vase of fake flowers lay on the bedside table. Gepard smiled to himself. You’d mutter under your breath and call it a waste of a good vase.

After half an hour, the pain medications they had given him finally kicked in, and he’d drifted off to sleep.

He dreamt about making you a rye bread soda iceberg, your eyes lighting up as he placed it in front of you. Maybe once winter came around, he’d make you a pie, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He snoozed softly, when suddenly he was awoken in the middle of the night by a scratching sound at the hospital window.

Gepard lifted his body as much as he could to get a better look, when he spotted the tops of two blonde heads along with a purple-haired one.

The tufted ears on Lynx’s hat wobbled. Serval’s blue eyes peered above the windowsill and they narrowed into crescents as she grinned. Meanwhile, Pela was looking around frantically, making sure no one spotted them.

His elder sister reached up with the multi-tool you had bought her, and fiddled with the lock. The latch came open with a clean pop. And true to her name, Serval slunk in gracefully, her heels clacking on the laminated floor.

“Hi, little bro,” she smirked. “Are visiting hours over?”

He looked at her incredulously. “I think you know the answer to that. Why else would you be breaking in?”

“Breaking in is a stretch,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Like I said, we’re visiting— just outside of the intended time!”

Gepard sighed. “I cannot believe you managed to drag the other two into this. What if you get caught?”

“Actually, it’s three,” your voice piped up. It came from somewhere under Pela. You spoke again. “And we won’t, I promise,”

The captain’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

That’s right. He was on the second floor.

Lynx hoisted herself up, and Pela began to follow suit.

“H-how?” He blurted. “How did you get in here?”

“There’s a dumpster out back that we used to elevate ourselves,” Pela said, not wavering in the slightest. “It could only hold about two people, so (Y/N) is currently holding me up,”

She hoisted herself entirely into the room and beckoned the others to come hoist you up. Gepard spotted one mitten, then the other. And then the rest of you came into view. And you were holding a basket with a blue silk ribbon tied to it.

“We brought you a gift basket!” You whisper yelled. Gepard’s face lit up like a spotlight at the sight of you.

You hopped over to his side and leaned over him with a smile, showing him the contents of the basket. “We’ve got flowers, and cookies, and— hey! Are those fake flowers?” You snapped your head towards the flowerpot indignantly.

You put the basket down and scoffed. “That’s a waste of a good damn vase if I’ve ever seen one,”

Whisking yourself towards the sin against botany, you yanked the faux flowers out and tossed them aside. Then you replaced them with a few stems of white tulips from your basket and filled the vase with water from the nearby sink.

Gepard smiled. You’d said it all almost word-for-word.

And so you stayed a while, talking well into the night. And you were all so tired that no one showed up to their jobs the next day.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - FULL POST

Summary: You’ve recently moved from Belobog’s Underworld and gotten a job as a florist. One day, a man wearing a full suit of armor stops by, and you, (fearing for the safety of the flowerpots) decide to approach him.

You never suspected that he would fall head-over-heels so quickly. Or so hard.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: This has been in the works for a month. It was actually going to be released earlier, but I had to take a three day break because I was about to give myself carpal tunnel— also, the beginning is choppy but bear with me!

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is available in shorter chapters for those of you whose devices keep crashing (like me). They will be posted every Saturday at 12:00 PST. Use the link post below!

I also have a few additional one-shots, so stay tuned!

I’m so sorry to be rambling but I want to provide the best experience possible.

MASTERLIST (MORE GEPARD HERE)

The Belobog sunlight was warm on the captain of the Silvermane Guards’ face. Gepard was covered in what could only be described as a mountain of blankets, hastily tossed over his sleeping form after returning from an extended mission on the front lines. 

The Fragmentum had never taken a break until recently, when the source of the corrosion was discovered and disposed of. There was still work to be done, of course, but Gepard’s workload had been significantly reduced. This left him feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion due to his regular routine being interrupted. 

Hearing some commotion from the hallway of the Landau Estate, Gepard stirred and sat up, a weary expression on his face. He raised a hand to rub his eyes but was unpleasantly surprised by stiff metal coming into contact with his cheek. 

He looked in the full-length mirror, realizing he had forgotten to take most of his armor off before going to bed, as unflattering red indentations remained on his face and neck from metal pressing into his skin. 

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he bent down to put on his home-appropriate loafers. It honestly felt like eons had passed since the Captain had woken up in his own home. He smiled to himself. How he had missed the smell of old books, wood, and leather. 

Gepard suddenly stood up with newfound energy to start the day, but the back of his head collided with the wooden shelf next to his bed. He doubled over, grunted in pain, and gingerly ran a hand through his blond hair.

That’s gonna leave a mark, he groaned inwardly. He looked back up at the shelf to see the flowerpot he began taking care of several weeks ago teetering on the edge. Too groggy to react, he watched it tip over and fall onto the hardwood floor, letting out a loud crash. Ceramic shards and dirt went everywhere. 

Gepard gave it an exasperated stare.

It was long dead anyways, He sighed. I forgot to ask Pela to take care of it again,

Rapid knocking could be heard at his door, and a housekeeper barged in. He was breathing as if he had leapt up the stairs four-at-a-time. 

“Young Master Gepard, is everything all right? I heard a crash,” he said, clutching his duster nervously.

The Captain looked at the broken pot on the floor wistfully.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said monotonously. “What’s for breakfast?”

———

Gepard had long gotten used to heads turning as he walked through the streets of Belobog. 

He didn’t necessarily mind it, though. Someone of his position would be bound to catch a few glances. If it meant he could keep protecting the city, then so be it. Being able to hear the carefree chatter of citizens made his chest swell with pride. Parents and grandparents alike would wave to him, and of course he would wave back. (Although Serval would always chide him for not smiling enough.)

While on his way to buy a new flowerpot, Gepard spotted an elderly woman carrying a bag of groceries. She turned around to face him quickly, startled by the sound of heavy boots clanking behind her. 

“Can I give you a hand with that, ma’am?” He inquired, offering his hands out to take it from her. 

“Oh, you’re too kind. Thank you so, so much,” she smiled up at him. The woman carefully gave him the paper bag that was filled with miscellaneous vegetables. 

“All in a day’s work,” Gepard replied. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and walked her to the entrance of a building, all the while a leek poked him in the face. 

“I’m so glad we have you as the Captain of the Silvermane Guards,” she said sweetly as she unlocked the door to her home. “Such a handsome and nice fellow,” 

Gepard shook his head humbly, trying to squash the dusting of pink that spread across his face. “Please, you flatter me too much,” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him behind her wire-framed glasses, humming in response. 

“Well, I’m sure one day…” she mused. “You’ll meet someone who thinks so too,” He kept his face blank, neither agreeing or disagreeing with her. 

“On your way now, miss. Be careful.” Gepard gave her a polite wave goodbye as she entered the building, and continued on his way.

———

You knew people on the surface could be weird, but not this weird. 

You were just about to join your co-worker, Vaska, on break when you heard the shopkeeper’s bell ring. A man with blonde hair stepped through the entrance, practically armed to the teeth. He wore a spotless soldier’s coat decorated with blue and gold accents, along with an unusual looking metal gauntlet on his right arm. He took care not to bump anything on the way in.

It would be a disaster if he did. 

What’s a soldier doing in a flower shop? You pondered as you fidgeted with your pen absentmindedly. Natasha would’ve strangled someone with that much metal on if she caught them in her clinic,

He walked over to the corner and began browsing the selection of ceramic pots you had to offer. The other customers seemed to acknowledge him and respectfully step aside so he could make his way around easier. 

You realized you were staring a hole into the back of his head and tore your gaze away from him, embarrassed. 

He looks confused, you thought. Maybe he’s buying a gift for someone? I guess I could give him some advice.

You ventured out from behind the desk and approached him, right as he picked up a pot with his heavily armored hand.

Please don’t crush it, so help me Qlipoth!! The voice inside your head shrieked. You clutched at your notepad so hard you thought it might rip in half. It’ll be on MY payroll!!

“Hi there! Can I help you?” You interjected, with the friendliest smile you could muster. The man swiveled his head towards you in surprise. His eyes were startlingly blue. 

“Oh… Yes, I could use some help,” he said. “I’ve been trying my hand at growing flowers for a while now, but it never really seems to work out,” He sighed. “Would you happen to have any advice?”

Your expression became one of pity. Oh! This poor soul! You lamented. Of course you’d help him chase his flower-growing dreams!

“Well, you could start by taking off the gauntlet when you garden,” you teased. “Flowers can get scared easily,”

“Are you serious?” He glanced worriedly at the hand that held the pot. 

For a follower of the Preservation, I can't seem to keep anything alive, he thought.

“No! No, no, of course not! I’m sorry.” You shook your hands as if to clear up the misunderstanding while holding back a giggle. He seemed sweet. 

He let out a relieved sigh. 

“It’s just that you don't see a man covered head to toe in metal come into the store every day. I’m sorry for teasing you about it.” You grinned at him and he cleared his throat sheepishly. “Anyways, what have you been trying to grow?” 

“Well, I had a pot of Solarflowers but I’ve been rather occupied as of late. I’ve had people take care of my plants before, but I would like something that I can handle by myself,” he replied. You hummed.

“If you don’t have too much free time, caring for something routinely may be difficult,” you rattled off. “I admire your perseverance though! Flowers just take a lot of nurturing.” You rested your chin on your hand deliberately.

“Wait a minute… I have just the thing for you! Be right back!” 

You darted into the back room, quick to push apart the piles of boxes filled with flowers. 

Aha! There it is! You almost jumped for joy as you spotted a small plant in a burlap sack. You practically ran back out while holding it up for him to see. 

“Is that… a tree?”

He stared down at it with a peculiar expression. The small, woody plant with only three leaves to call its own said nothing. 

“Nope! It’s a Summershade Bamboo,” you responded cheerily. “I know flowers are your main goal, but you should give this one a try!” He took it from you and examined it, tilting it every which way with his eyebrows furrowed.

“These are tougher than flowers. As long as it has water, it’ll be fine,” you were quick to add. 

“That sounds promising,” he nodded down at you. “I think I’ll buy it,” 

You two made your way to the counter, imaginary confetti poppers going off in your head triumphantly. 

My first real recommendation! You had to physically stop yourself from pumping your fists into the air as you walked behind the counter.

He set down the plant, you fastened a string around it to keep the sack from falling off, and then whipped out your notepad from the front pouch in your uniform. 

“How exactly did you become so good with flowers, anyways?” The man asked, tilting his head. You barked out a laugh while scribbling something down on the paper, remembering just how lucky you were to get this job.

“Oh, believe me, I have killed my fair share of flowers.” You nodded towards the door to the back room, where your co-workers were lounging and drinking the latest tea. “We all have. It’s something that comes with a LOT of trial and error— in fact, a couple months ago I had never even seen one!” 

“Is that so?” He was taken aback. 

“Yep! I’d just moved here from the Underworld, and was fresh out of a job,” you reminisced. “ I had been looking for weeks on end, finally I stumbled across this place! It was so beautiful, I just HAD to apply,” 

You glanced around quickly and leaned in to whisper, “The owner is sort of strict, but she offered me a place to stay. I couldn’t be more grateful,” 

“Is that so? Well then, Belobog is happy to have you,” he said, offering out his right hand for you to shake. “I’m Gepard. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” 

Realizing he had his gauntlet on, he began to retract his hand. You stopped him, almost tipping over the desk to shake it heartily. 

“And I’m (Y/N). No need to be so stiff, it’s a pleasure to meet you too!” A bright smile spread across your cheeks. Gepard felt his breath catch in his throat, much to his surprise.

“Your total comes to 15 Shield,” you said, handing him a yellow square of paper along with the bamboo. “I wrote a list of tips on how to take care of it too! This one will survive. I'm sure of it,”

You beamed at him. “Come back anytime if you need any more advice!” 

Gepard felt the corners of his mouth rise into a smile. 

“I’m sure I will,” 

———

As the Captain was watering his bamboo plant that night, the moons of Jarilo-VI caught his attention through the window. They were shining brightly tonight. His mind wandered back to just how bright your smile was.

Gepard shook himself out of his thoughts, ignoring his heart beating faster than usual, and placed the newly potted bamboo on his bookshelf.

So it couldn’t be knocked over by a clumsy captain like himself, of course.

He sighed. The Captain opened an old, tattered book for a while before turning off the lamp and tucking into the covers for the night. 

———

A few days later, you were pleased to see that your new guard friend decided to show up again. 

He sure took his sweet while staring at the flowers this time. You couldn't blame him for his indecisiveness though, because choosing something as special as flowers could be a challenge.

Gepard eventually gave up and walked over to the counter. You gave him a friendly wave.

“Hey there again! How’s the new plant doing?” You inquired, shifting your weight onto your toes with a happy grin.

“Fairly well, surprisingly. I'm very happy with it,” he said with a relaxed expression.

“I’m glad! That’s the first time I've ever recommended somethin’ to someone!” You exclaimed. He blinked in surprise. 

“So, what are you in here for this time?” You asked.

“I'd like to buy some flowers for my older sister. She could use something to liven up her workshop. I'm not sure which ones to get for her though.” He paused, looking off to the side at the plants hanging by the windows. 

“Aww, that’s really sweet! What’s her favorite color?” You said.

“Purple,” he replied.

You glanced at the rows of purple flowers on the shelves and bit your lip. “Um, well, What's she like?” 

“She’s definitely something,” Gepard murmured to himself. “Between running the workshop and her rock gigs, she practically has an infinite amount of energy.” He shook his head lightly. 

“Rock gigs?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Rock is a genre of music she’s fascinated by. She does concerts sometimes… Although she’s somehow coerced one of my co-workers into performing with her,”

“No way… She’s a musician AND she runs a workshop? She sounds incredible!” Your eyes went wide with awe. 

Gepard stifled a chuckle.

“She can be, sometimes,” He sighed, tapping the desk with an armored finger. “If we ignore the numerous crazy things she’s done in the past,” 

“Sisters, am I right?” You chirped. “Anyways, what about you? What’s being a guard like?” 

“I suppose—,” 

He cut off as your boss shoved past you with some large boxes in hand, almost tipping you onto the desk, but your fall was stopped by his hands, which caught your shoulders and helped steady you. 

“Sorry about that! (Y/N),” she called, not bothering to look back as she rushed into the storeroom. “A new shipment came in today. We could use your help sorting it out if you could hurry it up a bit!” 

“Oops,” You turned back to him. “I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you said sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind small talk,” Gepard responded, fiddling with one of the clasps on his uniform.

“Really? Phew.” You wiped fake sweat from your brow. “Anyways, I think she would enjoy a pot of Indigos.” You pointed to a flowerpot on the leftmost side of the shop. “They’re a nice bold color, and pretty hardy too!”

You swore Gepard’s eyes lit up as he picked up the pot of purple flowers. 

“These are perfect. Your recommendations truly are the best,” Gepard said when he returned to the counter. You thought you heard a bit more warmth beginning to creepinto his voice.

You smiled at him, and for a split second, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. And with that, you checked him out and handed him a blank thank-you card to write on, bowing politely.

“Thank you, come again!” You called, and squeaked in surprise as you were promptly yanked by the collar into the storage room. Gepard could only blink in confusion as he watched you disappear into the back. 

———

A few weeks passed, and Gepard had become a regular at the flower shop. You started to look forward to when he came in so you could chat about how his new bamboo plant was faring. 

I wonder if he has a name for it, you mused to yourself. Probably not,

It was kind of unusual how much he stopped by, though. 

You were in the middle of putting a case full of seed packets on the shelf when you heard the door creak open, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Be right there!” You shouted. You peeked your head out from behind the door frame, only to spot Gepard’s familiar blond hair once more. He was looking very intently at a dresser filled with a variety of multicolored plants. The soldier caught your gaze, but quickly broke eye contact with you, much to your confusion.

“Isn’t this the third time he’s come in this week?” You whispered to your boss, Meg, who was writing labels for the different jars on the shelves. She shrugged.

Meg put her hands on her hips. “I've got no problem with it. It’s good for business, after all. He always seems to be looking for something or someone in particular… He gets awfully sad when you aren't there, y’know,” 

You squinted at her, confused, and then shook your head in disbelief. You headed back to the counter where Gepard was waiting with a small sack in his hands. 

“Good afternoon, Gepard. What can I do for ya this time?” You stared at his face harder than normal, analyzing his expression. It didn't change much.

“Just the usual, please.” He placed the bag of plant fertilizer on the desk while he dug in his pockets for the change. He was dead serious, like usual.

Ugh. Why was he so impossible to read?? 

“You do know we sell these in larger sizes, right?” You questioned while pointing at the bag. Gepard nodded, shuffling his feet a little. 

“Yes, I am aware, but I have a very inquisitive little sister. I'm afraid one of her pets might get into it while I'm not there and get sick,” he answered. “It's easier if there's less of it for them to get into,” 

Gepard ran his gloved hand through his hair while you stood nodding thoughtfully.

“Ohhh, I see!” You let out a gasp of realization. “Phew! I was worried you were coming in here just to see me!” 

“No, of… course not,” he said, mouth agape. The soldier closed his eyes in embarrassment as he felt his face heat up. “Although, seeing you does improve my day greatly,” 

Your face morphed into a scowl, much to his surprise. “You oughta be spending your time better, you know. Guard duty sounds very demanding.” You folded your arms with a huff. “You know, delivery IS an option if you want to save some effort,”

“O-oh? Could you elucidate to me how it works?” He stuttered, expression changing to one of nervous curiosity. 

“Yeah! Delivery works with almost anything. We understand how hard it is to drag an entire plant or package to your residence,”

You shook your finger matter-of-factly as you went off on your sales pitch. “You can place an order in-store and we can bring it to you, even on the same day you place it!” 

“AND, we can do regularly scheduled deliveries, that way, you don't have to come in every two days. Instead, one of our very capable workers will get it to you!” 

He merely stared at you quizzically. You huffed. 

“Believe me, we’re stronger than we look.” You raised your arm, curling it into a fist. “I used to work in the mines, so I'm used to heavy lifting,” you said, putting your hands back on your hips proudly. 

Gepard exhaled through his nose. He knew you weren’t going to let this one go.

“So… Would you be interested? I’d hate for you to have to go on a wild Mole chase every time you want to buy fertilizer,” you said slyly. 

“Well—” He raised his hand to protest. “It’s really not an issue—,”

“Nonsense! I'm sure your schedule is super busy, so let me help you out!” You slid a purple notecard and a pen with a floral print across the counter to him. 

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” The guard sighed in defeat.

Gepard waited until he got a safe distance away from the shop, and facepalmed with a weak groan. As he drew his hand away, a new look of determination flickered across his face. 

He was going to need new excuses to keep seeing you. 

———

Is this really the place?? You thought, boxes in hand. The sun was setting on the fancy buildings in the modern district of the city, painting them a brilliant orange. You adjusted your beret, determined not to let it fall off, and prepared yourself to venture up the stairs to the massive mansion located on the uppermost level of the city. 

When you reached the entrance at the top, you realized that the unfamiliar building made the shop you called home seem almost microscopic. Two guards were standing at the sides of the heavy-looking wooden door, complete with ornately carved bronze handles. 

The doors opened, and out walked a group of housekeepers. You gave them a feeble wave hello and trotted over to them.

“Hi there! I have a delivery for the—,” You narrowed your eyes at the card on top of the boxes—, “Landau Estate?” 

You hoped you didn’t just butcher the name. One of the guards and a maid sauntered over to you. 

“That’s unusual,” the maid said, taking the card and inspecting it closely. “We weren't expecting a package. This is for fertilizer, you say?” You nodded in agreement. 

“Do you know if anyone here ordered fertilizer?” She turned back to the group of servants, who all murmured among themselves. “Hmm… doesn’t look like it,”

“Oh jeez. I'm sorry, a man named Gepard ordered it. Maybe he put down the wrong address by mistake?” You shrugged. 

Who on Jarilo-VI would live in a house this big, anyways? You wondered. 

“Oh! The young master!” A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. “I wasn't aware he had ordered something. I'm sorry, but we aren't allowed to accept packages on his behalf unless he clears it with us first.” She clasped her hands together. “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” 

You shook your head reassuringly. “That’s all right, I can just find him myself. Does anyone know where he might be?” 

That earned you a few quizzical looks. One of the aides, a woman with chestnut hair, piped up. 

“I heard he was heading to Serval’s workshop today. Maybe if you're lucky, you could catch him on his way out!” 

“Great! Thanks!” 

You adjusted the boxes under your arm once again and flew down the stairs two at a time. 

They called him “Young Master”? You furrowed your brow.

This was getting weirder and weirder.

———

Rapidly flipping through your map of Belobog, you pinpointed an eccentric looking building on the easternmost side of the plaza. When you reached the workshop indicated on your map, you stood still in amazement.

It was covered in the coolest metal fixtures and gave off a mature aura you couldn’t quite put your finger on. If something like this had existed in the Underworld, you wouldn't have been able to see it in full detail anyways.

Not right now! I have a delivery to make! You snapped at yourself. You pried the door open with your hand and used the weight of your back to push your way inside. 

The inside of the building was just as interesting as the outside. Metal cogs spun with no aim in particular, more tools than you had ever seen in your lifetime adorned the walls, and old manuscripts were sprawled out all over the various surfaces. You wanted to explore it all already.

You spotted Gepard talking to a boldly dressed woman at the front desk. Another blue-haired woman was working on a blueprint off to the side, too absorbed in her work to notice the commotion at the door. 

“Aha! There you are!” You exclaimed. “I've got your delivery for this week. Some housekeepers told me I could find you here.” You bounded up to him with the boxes curled under your arm, smiling as he thanked you. 

“I apologize you had to go through all that trouble to find me.” He rubbed his temples. “I should have cleared the whole thing with them first. Here, let me take that for you,” 

The tall woman stepped out from behind the counter, looking you up and down with great interest. She had stunning lip gloss and blond hair with a lone blue streak on her right side. You wondered where she got her style from, as everyone on the surface dressed the same, for the most part.

“And who might you be?” She inquired. 

“I’m (Y/N), from the flower shop across the street.” You curtsied with a smile.

“What a cute little doll!” The woman tilted her head at you, her eyes sparkling with adoration. “Gepard, where on Jarilo-VI did you find them? I know everyone’s face, and I've never seen theirs,” 

You saw Gepard shift from side to side in the corner of your eye. 

“I started working there just a few weeks ago, actually! I’m from the Underworld,” you chirped. 

“No way! Well then, it’s a pleasure to be meeting you!” She offered her hand for you to shake, which you took graciously. She was so easygoing, it was easy to be drawn to her. 

“I'm Serval, this clumsy oaf’s sister.” She wrapped her arm around Gepard and poked him in the side. “The one over there is Molly, my assistant!” She pointed at the worker with blue hair in the corner, who gave you a quick thumbs-up. “It seems you know my brother?”

“Well—,” you started. 

“We don't need to go into detail now, I'm sure you have places to be,” Gepard interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder. He hoped you couldn’t feel his palms sweating.

“No, no, no!” Serval pouted, “I'm invested now, can't you see?” She said, circling around you like a carnivore would. 

“Um. It’s fine, actually! That was the last of the deliveries scheduled for today,” you chimed in.

“Perfect! Molly, could you get our guest some tea?” Serval called. She led you to a small table with an oil lamp resting on it, pulling out your chair before she sat in her own. She rested her arm on the tabletop while leaning forward with a thrilled expression. 

Gepard stayed where he was, rubbing his forehead. The poor man’s cheeks were bright red. 

“So! How are you liking the city so far?” Molly set down two cups of steaming hot tea. You thanked her, then took a sip as you paused to think. It was fragrant and had just the right amount of sweetness.

“It’s honestly gorgeous. The air up here is so clean compared to the mines!” You replied energetically. 

“My thoughts exactly!” The woman across from you nodded. “There’s nothing like the cold Belobog air to wake you up in the mornings too. Have you visited the Everwinter Monument yet?” 

You took in a sharp breath. “No, I haven’t! Not for real, at least. I see it through the window of my apartment sometimes. Since I live and work in the same building, I haven’t really felt the need to explore the city yet,” you murmured. “Although, I'm being put on delivery more often, so I guess there’s that,” 

You gazed around the room curiously, taking another sip of your tea. 

“I've never been in a workshop this fancy before. What kind of work do you do here?” You asked.

“Well, we do a lot of mechanical repairs and research. Although, my brother might have mentioned that we hold Rock gigs here sometimes,” she responded. 

Said brother was looking at the delivery card with incredible concentration. 

I still don't know what a gig is, you sighed inwardly. 

“That's incredible! What instrument do you play?” You said, voice dripping with enthusiasm to make up for the confusion.

“Electric guitar,” Serval said. “I can go grab it for you if you'd like to see it,”

“Would I EVER???” You practically bounced out of your seat. She got up from the table and opened the door to a side room, snapping her fingers and humming to herself. 

Noticing a pot of purple flowers, your rose from your seat to inspect them. They were healthy and had enough sunlight. You gave a happy bounce of approval, then sauntered over to Gepard, who was still standing stiffly. 

“So that’s the sister you told me about, huh?” You smiled cheerfully. 

“Indeed. That’s her,” Gepard nodded in agreement. 

“I can't believe you have a MUSICIAN for a sister. She's so energetic!”

“I guess the only thing we have in common are our looks,” he mused. His eyes locked onto yours and you giggled.

“Pfft. You got that right,” 

“Miss Serval really is the epitome of exciting!” Molly called from her desk. You pumped a fist in silent agreement. 

“I guess you could say that. Although she can be a little overbearing sometimes.” Gepard sighed and looked off into the distance. “I'm really sorry to be dragging you out here on a work night,” 

“It’s okay, really. I could use a bit more excitement. My life doesn't need to revolve around the flower shop, after all,” you reassured him. 

———

When Serval came out of the side room with her guitar, everything clicked into place. 

No wonder her adorable little brother was being so sheepish! (Albeit, only a little more than usual.)

It’s because he was feeling shy, Serval deduced. Every time you looked him in the eyes, he looked away and his ears turned pink. She almost cooed out loud, giving him a pitying glance. This was TOO CUTE. 

A raucous grin spread across her face, which she quickly squashed before deciding her next move.

You turned to face the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. 

“And here—,” she announced with a grand gesture—, “Is my magnum opus!” She laid her guitar on the table proudly.

You could not, for the life of you, see how the machine in front of you resembled a guitar in any way. It was large and avant garde, with a long black handle and tubes sticking off the side of the body.

It was still the coolest thing you had ever seen, though. 

“Wow. wow wow wow WOW!!” You gasped in amazement. “Can I-- can I touch it?!”

“Go ahead! Who am I to stop someone from admiring fine craftsmanship?” Serval chuckled lightly. You inspected the guitar with so much excitement, she could have sworn your head was about to explode.

“Anyhow, I need to check something in the back just for a quiiick second,” she said offhandedly, fishing through her pockets and pulling out a key made of brass. “C’mon Molly!”

Serval yanked the startled girl by the hand unceremoniously causing her pen to drop on the floor. She turned backwards for a split second and gave Gepard a wink.

Gepard gulped. He’s seen that look before. 

His rebellious sister was DEFINITELY planning something. 

When she returned, the smile on her face was even brighter. Blinding, even. Molly was nowhere to be seen.

“The mechanics are really well done!” You said excitedly. “I've never seen anything like it. Repairing minecarts and robots wasn’t anywhere near this level of intricacy,”

“Whoa! You really know what you're talking about, new friend! You know, if you're ever interested in working with us, we could always use an extra pair of hands in the workshop,” 

“I would LOVE that,” you replied. “I’ll have to adjust my work schedule first, though. I took on a few too many hours this week and tomorrow is my only free day. I was planning on using it to see the city,”

“It's no sweat! Come in anytime it strikes your fancy. Actually, the workshop happens to be closed that day too, would you be up to touring the city together?” 

You nodded vigorously. 

Serval grinned and clasped your hands with her own. You exchanged contacts, while Gepard pulled her aside to whisper something in her ear. She then promptly elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt in pain, Then out of the blue, your phone started dinging incessantly.

“Um, I don't think that's ME doing that—,” Serval said nervously. You furrowed your eyebrows, raising the screen closer to your face to get a better look. 

It was Vaska. They must have wanted you to come back to help close up shop. The sky outside had shifted from an orange to a deep blue, dotted sparsely with stars. You sighed and accepted the fact that you had to return to your ordinary flower-filled life.

Your disappointment was abruptly interrupted by a huge crash coming from the back room. Your phone almost flew into the air as everyone scrambled to check for the source of the noise. 

There Molly stood, covered head to toe in soot, coughing up a storm, with bits of machinery scattered everywhere. A few stray pieces rolled off the table the machine was sitting on. 

You made sure to watch your step as you clung to the walls to keep your balance.

“Oh, by Qlipoth,” Serval covered her face with her hand, closing her eyes. “I forgot we had an experiment running! Molly, are you all right?” She bent down, picking up some stray papers and rushed over to the girl. Serval dusted her assistant off worriedly.

You began to reach for some of the stray parts scattered on the floor, but Gepard held out a hand to stop you. 

“That's not a good idea. It's hard to see sharp edges with everything covered in soot right now. Let me take care of it,”

You blinked at him in surprise. 

“Well then, I guess it's a good thing I carry these around with me then!” You pulled out a pair of thick gloves from your apron triumphantly, and proceeded to carry on picking up the shrapnel. When Molly had been sufficiently cleaned up, Serval groaned. 

“The Department of Education wants these results in three days,” she spoke. “It'll take me all night to get this baby up and running again— I'm sorry, but I can't make it to our little outing tomorrow,”

You shook your head frantically. “I'm so sorry this happened!” You sighed. “If I hadn't distracted you—,”

“That's not it at all!” Serval interjected. “I can be a little scatterbrained sometimes. This kind of stuff happens all the time.” She gave a small laugh. “Geppie can attest to that,” 

He blanched, almost dropping an armful of tubes.

“I'm really, really sorry.” She bowed her head. “Gepard, could you take them instead? Please? I know you have this week off.” She placed her hands together in a praying motion and closed her eyes. He let out a small sound of surprise.

“It’s… not an issue,”

Serval’s eyes flew back open.

“Great! I’ll leave you two to it then!” Her old enthusiasm was back in the blink of an eye and she resumed sweeping up the room. Gepard led you back to the main entrance.

“Okay, I know I said I could use some excitement, but not THAT much excitement,” you said quietly.

“I suppose that makes two of us,” he replied. 

“Do things really blow up around here that often?”

“They sure do. She says it's all part of the process,” he spoke. “I hope that doesn't scare you too much,” 

“Not at all, actually. I've seen my fair share of explosions,” You chuckled. 

“That's a relief,”

Your phone rang again, and this time you answered it. You put it to your ear only to be deafened by Vaska’s screaming.

“The heck is taking you so long???” She barked. You could hear the clamor of your co-workers in the background.

“Gahh! Sorry, sorry! I’ll be right over,” you said hurriedly. 

“You better be,” she huffed impatiently. You hung up with a groan. As much as you hated it, she was right. Your duties for the night were far from over. 

“Oh! That reminds me,” you piped up. “Gepard, did I get your number? Wait… do you have a phone?”

“That would be a no and a yes.” He ran a hand across his hip, only to realize he didn't have it with him.

“That's fine.” You grabbed a marker from your pocket, and scanned the room for anything to write on.

You decided you'd rather not risk a catastrophe by grabbing a random piece of paper. Instead, this would work just as well. 

“Crud. Gepard, could I see your hand for a second?” He held out his right arm, the one with the gauntlet on it.

“The other one, silly!” You giggled. He complied.

The soldier flinched in surprise as you rolled back the sleeve on his left arm, holding his wrist with your other hand so you could press the ink onto his skin.

“You have my number now! Don't worry, it'll wash off pretty easily. Anyways, I'm looking forward to our outing tomorrow. I’ll see you then!” You said cheerfully.

“You as well," he called out to you as you rushed out the door. “Travel safely,” 

But then he froze. 

Wait just a minute. 

Isn’t Serval still banned from the Education Committee?

He pondered this thought for a moment, and then chuckled to himself. Well, now I know what that look was for,

———

The sun was high in the sky the next day when you met Gepard in front of the Everwinter Monument. 

He was hard to miss, really. The light reflected off every possible inch of his uniform. When you turned to face him, you had to shield your eyes with a gasp.

Oh, this man was too brilliant for everyday life. 

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” he said gently, blonde strands of hair waving in the breeze. 

“Not at all! I was just taking my time admiring the monument.” You gazed back up at the incredible sculpture. “That’s not real ice… is it? I feel stupid for asking,” You murmured. 

“Not exactly. It does look remarkably realistic, though. It was made as a tribute to Plamya, one of the many great architects of this city,”

“What did she do?” You looked at him, feeling intrigued but slightly uneducated.

“She's the one who led the charge in constructing the citadel in order to protect the city from the eternal freeze,” he responded, gazing up at the structure. 

“I can't believe one woman spearheaded that entire operation!” you commented. “You sure know a lot about the history of Belobog, Gepard,”

“You could say that. Now, why don't we get going? There’s a lot to see in Belobog’s administrative district,” 

———

To say there was “a lot to see” in the Administrative District was the understatement of the century. 

It was everything you had imagined it to be, pieced together from stories told by your upperclassmen, and more. Your first decision was to stop at various newspaper stands, ecstatically flipping through half of the available merchandise. 

There was so much to read up here! In the Underworld, the same 30 books were cycled between people over and over again. Most of them were medical records kept by Natasha, too. 

Gepard made sure to point out important buildings and historic facts to you as you walked. You had no idea there was so much history to the place! You started bouncing down the street so excitedly, he had to pull you out of the way of an oncoming street car. 

Next, you made sure to peer through the windows of all of the shops. At one particular clothing store, you bent down to get a closer look at the stitchwork on the pieces. There was not a seam to be found. Your guide noticed you staring particularly hard at a certain item of clothing.

“Is there anything that piqued your interest?” Gepard inquired. You sighed, scrunching your face up.

“Well, yes, but I'd rather not spend recklessly right now. I don't want to look like an upstart,” you scoffed. You stared at the article a little longer before turning away and standing up.

“That’s understandable.” He folded his arms and nodded. He took a step back to get a better look at the display window that belonged to the boutique you were so curious about. 

After successfully making every shop owner in a 3-block radius uncomfortable, you decided to check out the famous theater in the area. The building was more elegant than anything you had ever seen in your life, with square columns were detailed down to the centimeter. You figured a single chunk would fetch a pretty decent price. You did still have your old mining pickaxe—,

You squished your face with your hands suddenly to dispel your unholy thoughts. A confused expression flickered across Gepard’s face, but he thought nothing of it. He merely wasn’t accustomed to seeing people this excited, especially when he was present.

You decided to write down a reminder to buy tickets for your next day off.

By noon, you were ridiculously parched from scurrying around the city. You spotted your savior, a friendly vending machine, resting by the stone wall of the lower level of the city. You enthusiastically punched in the numbers for a Jim Roger Bread Soda, asking Gepard if he would like one too.

“Soda? I’ve only had the pleasure of trying it once,” he responded, 

“Ah, I see. We used to drink it a lot when the water wasn't safe,” you reminisced, meeting his gaze. “I wasn't sure if you guys indulged in that type of thing up here,”

“It wouldn't hurt to expand my view on beverages, I suppose.” He rested a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

You fed some more coins into the machine, and out popped a differently shaped bottle. It was rather small, especially for someone with hands like Gepard’s. 

“The carbonation in this one is a little weaker, so maybe you'll like it better. Who knows?” You said with a grin, handing it to him.

When he inspected the label, it read, “Strawberry Svarog”, complete with a curly straw and a cartoon of a laughing child. He deduced it must have been a children’s soda, popping the cap off and tilting his head back, but you stopped him before the bottle reached his lips.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head disapprovingly. “You’ve gotta use the straw, or else you won't get the full experience!” 

He looked at you quizzically. “Do I really have to?”

You pursed your lips at him. He sighed, tearing open the straw and taking a sip. You had to admit, he did look a little silly, with a serious look on his face and his nose all scrunched up. Stifling a giggle, you screwed the cap off your own soda.

“How is it?” You asked. “I don't think I've ever had that flavor before— Strawberry Svarog? I wonder what he would think if he found out he was being used as a marketing gimmick,” you snickered. 

What on Jarilo-VI is a strawberry? Gepard wondered.

“Not too shabby. Here, try some.” He held it out to you, but instead of taking it in your hands to drink, you leaned forward and took a sip while he was still holding it.

The background chatter around you seemed to cease slightly. 

“I agree! A little on the lukewarm side, but—,”

Mortified, you realized what you had done. 

“Shoot—! I'm s-sorry. Must be gardener’s reflexes or something! I guess I thought I still had dirt on my hands or something… hahaha,” you trailed off.

Your face felt like it was burning as you flailed your arms about, so you spun around quickly to prevent him from seeing your frazzled expression. 

And it was a good thing you did, too, or else you would have seen his.

The soldier next to you resembled more so a “strawberry” than a man. His eyes darted around wildly as he turned the other way to give you some privacy, his hands falling to his side. 

“W-well, no matter.” He coughed. “Why don't we stop and get something to eat as well? You must be famished,”

“Yeah… definitely,”

———

Gepard took you to the cafe by Serval’s workshop, where she and Molly would often stop by on their lunch breaks. You grabbed a croquette sandwich, and him, a muffin. You sat down at the metal tables outside and began to enjoy your food. 

The guard made a noticeable clanking noise as he sat down. He was almost a head taller than you. It was a little embarrassing, frankly. 

“So, Gepard, do you always wear your uniform when you're out and about?” You questioned. 

“I do, yes.” He nodded.

“It has to be comfortable if you wear it all the time, then,” 

Gepard hummed thoughtfully. “Not exactly. But it is required of me, after all.” He took a bite of his muffin. 

You reached across the table and grasped the arm with the gauntlet, examining it closely.

“Whoa! It’s really warm!” You exclaimed, turning his hand over so his palm faced upwards. You curled each of his fingers almost instinctively. “This thing makes you look really tough, you know?” You added. 

Gepard could have died right then and there, and he would have been happy.

“R-really? You think so?” He closed his eyes bashfully. 

You hummed in response, still focused on his handguard.

Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen anyone around here that looks remotely close to him, you wondered. I figured there would be more, since he's a soldier and all, 

You took a bite of your food, determined to remain unbothered. Gepard finished his muffin quickly, so you offered him half your sandwich in your usual generous fashion. 

As you finished up, a commotion coming from the center of the plaza drew your attention. A crowd of around forty people had gathered by the monument, clapping their hands to a steady beat. They seemed to be arranged in a circle surrounding someone.

Your face lit up as you heard the tones of an instrument beneath the chatter of people. The metal chair, which you had been sitting in previously, was pushed away with a screech as you got up. 

Gepard reached out a hand to you as you sprinted towards the throes of people, but faltered and let out a defeated sigh. He gave in and rose to join you instead.

When you reached the center of the square, you spotted the musician you often saw practicing outside the shop, strumming her guitar as people smiled around her. (Although the only reason you knew of her was because Vaska had a huge crush on her and would NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT. “Ooh, (Y/N), do you think she likes reading? Do you think she likes Tale of the Winterlands???” It was actually kind of sweet, though.)

According to your sheepish co-worker, it was “just a passing fancy”. This “passing fancy” had been going on for about two months. 

I wonder if I should take a video to send to her, you wondered with an amused smile.

You began to tap your foot in sync with the downbeats of the song. You were taken aback by just how quickly the music ensnared you in its hold. It filled you with energy that coursed through your veins.

And it seemed like you weren't the only one, either. Several people in the crowd began to dance, children and couples alike twirling hand-in-hand. You feel a grin start to form on your face, and decided that now would be a great time to join the fray. 

You leapt into the center, right next to the musician, who gave you a wink. You swayed on your feet with the strums of the guitar, your dress whirling. You kicked your legs into the air, mirroring the person across from you with a giggle. 

Meanwhile, Gepard was politely making his way towards the front of the crowd. 

“Excuse me, apologies, coming through,” he muttered while tapping on people’s shoulders. The crowd parted when they spotted him coming. 

He strained his neck to look into the mass of dancers, spotting you at the center, dipping your arms and spinning on your feet with another girl your age. 

You caught a glimpse of Gepard’s iconic uniform in your line of sight, and immediately waltzed over to him in a rather dramatic fashion. 

You ran your fingers down his forearms lightly, and then interlaced your hands with his, yanking him backwards with all your might into the dancers. He yelped as he stumbled into your arms. For someone built like a tank, he sure came unbalanced easily. 

“Wait— ah, h-hold on, I don't know how to dance—,” Gepard stammered, glancing down at you. 

“That's fine, just hold on to me!” You winked at him, pulling him closer so he couldn't back out. You rested a hand on his shoulder, and wrapped the other around his gauntlet. You shuffled him into a silly looking box step, something that would resemble a dance a family might have in the kitchen.

Gepard’s breath was much heavier than usual, especially because he was in such close proximity to you. Your chests were pressed together, in order to take up the least amount of space as other people spun past you. 

His eyes were wide with surprise as you raised his arm and twirled under it. It took all of his concentration to keep his hands from shaking. He was worried about gripping you too tightly or too loosely, as one wrong move from a guard like him could squish you. 

He tried to dispel his worries, and instead focused on you. You were as radiant as the sun, with a smile brighter than the Belobog snow. 

You two wove through the crowd, stepping rowdily with the upbeat music, and he tried his best to keep up. Gepard felt his cheeks warming while you stared into his eyes, an elated expression paining your features. Unfortunately, it was cut short though. You stepped on your own foot and sent you both tumbling onto the pavement, the clatter of his armor dimming the laughter of children for a split second. 

The crowd stepped out of the way as you rolled on the stone ground, limbs tangling together. 

You burst into raucous laughter as you sat up, holding your stomach because it hurt so much and wiping tears from your eyes. Gepard was engaged in breathy laughter of his own. He looked just like a prince when he was happy, you realized.

“Wow, that was… incredible,” He coughed.

“I know right? I have the grace and beauty of a warp trotter.” You got up and curtseyed, flaring your jacket for extra impact and offering a hand to him.

“I don't see why that matters as long as you're having fun,” He took your hand and you pulled him up with a grunt.

You noticed the crowd was giving you some strange glances, some of them looking directly at you as they whispered under their breath. You clenched your jaw slightly. 

“I guess you're right. On the other hand, you got pretty into it too!” You turned your attention back to him, teasing him with a grin. He wiped his cheek with a distracted look.

Heading out of the crowd, you leaned on his shoulder like a wounded soldier. When you finally escaped, you realized the sun was setting with a start.

“My gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to take this long,” you spoke, embarrassed. “I just got super caught up in the moment, s’all,” 

“No worries,” He said as he gestured reassuringly. “I enjoyed it. I can't remember the last time I spent some quality time in the city,”

“I guess there's always some fun to be had, even if you've lived here your whole life,” you commented. “Wait! I almost forgot— I wanted to get a picture in front of the monument,” you fished your phone out from your bag.

“Of course,” he said courteously, holding his hand out towards you. You looked at him, puzzled.

“Of us, I mean,”

“Oh, um… sure,” He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s all right if you'd rather not,” you yammered, your face beginning to heat up. “It’s just that it's my first time on an outing with a friend! I wanted something to remember it by,” 

“It's fine, it’s not an inconvenience or anything,” he blurted out. 

You motioned for him to stand in front of the monument next to you and raised your phone up. No matter how hard you tried though, you could never catch more than half of his face in the frame, even on your tippy toes. You grumbled as you kept trying to adjust your position.

He took the phone from you gently, holding it up so it caught you both from above. The shutter clicked and he handed it back to you, and you raised your arms above your head with a cheer.

“It looks great! Thank you so, so much. I’ll send it to you once I get the chance,” you beamed. 

“I would enjoy that,” he responded with a soft smile. Fortunately for him, the sunset hid the blush on his face that stubbornly refused to go away. 

He walked you back to the florists, shoulder to shoulder. The streets were now quieter, with the trams having stopped for the day, and all that remained outside the shop was a group of kids and their caretakers. 

You stopped at the stairs, bowing your head when you turned around. 

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you said gently, rocking from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

“My pleasure,” Gepard replied. He placed a hand on his chest and nodded back, just like a gentleman would. 

As corny as it seemed, your heart fluttered in your ribcage. Resting a hand on your hip, you used the other one to flick him in the forehead, sending a few strands of golden hair flying. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

His eyes sprung open, his hand going to his forehead in surprise. 

“It’s best you get going,” you said. “Soldiers need their beauty rest, after all. Get home safely!” 

He nodded with a silent smile before turning away and starting off towards the direction of Qlipoth Fort. While he was walking, he felt a vibration in his pocket. 

His phone had one new notification, which was from you. Gepard opened up the messaging app to see the photo you had taken. You were wearing a goofy grin, and he was bent down with his lips pressed together sheepishly.

Gepard felt something akin to happiness bubbling up from his chest. He looked up into the sky, allowing himself a single second to loosen up, and pumped his fists into his chest. He sauntered towards the estate, humming one of his sister’s songs as he went. 

Meanwhile, the kids playing nearby were dumbfounded. A little red-haired girl stopped and pointed at him.

“Mommy, what's that man doing?”

—

A few days later, you were sitting on the edge of your mattress, waiting for Vaska to reply to a text you sent earlier that morning. Two tickets to the Golden Theater laid on your bedside table. Your phone buzzed and your hand darted to pick it up nervously. 

From: Vaska

Vaska: Sorry, I can't come to the theater today! 

Vaska: I haven’t had time to reread Tale of the Winterlands lately. I wanted to get to that today.

You: That’s all right! The tickets were discounted, so I just figured I would get them! Enjoy your reading!

Vaska: Wait, I am available for lunch though. 

Vaska: It feels like forever since I’ve seen you! 

You: Vaska, we work together.

Vaska: Yes. And?

You: …

You: Ok, I’ll be there.

You sighed, shaking your head. It had been a bad idea to buy an extra ticket, even if they WERE discounted for the final day of thIs play they were showing. 

Well, worst case scenario, I have a fancy piece of paper I can hang up, but it’ll be a shame if this ticket gets wasted, you thought to yourself.

You chewed on your nails. Should I ask Serval? She might still be busy fixing her device. I’d better not… 

What about Gepard? Maybe I could pay him back for giving me that tour, You flicked the screen to Gepard’s contact info, but you noticed the name in the slot read “Gerard” instead. 

Oh shoot, better fix that,

You tapped the screen to edit his name, but hit the “call” button by mistake. 

“Nono wait no—,” you gasped. Your thumb darted to the red icon in the corner, but you heard someone on the other line pick up ridiculously quickly. 

“Hello? Gepard Landau speaking,” His voice was clear on the other end. Your nervous system threatened to wrangle its way out of your body that very second. 

“Hi! Hello! Um—, I’m really sorry,” you stuttered. “I clicked the call button by mistake,”

“Oh..? That’s all right,” There was no marked change in tone when he spoke again. He was standing in the office of the new Supreme Guardian, right next to some stacks of papers. Pela peeked her head out from behind one of them.

“I was meaning to ask you about something though,” you blurted out, grabbing your beret from the side table. “I happen to have an extra ticket to the Golden Theater. There’s a showing today at two o’clock. I'm sorry it’s on short notice, but would you like to come with me?” 

Gepard clasped his phone in a death grip.

“Ahem—, yes. That works for me. I don't have any urgent meetings today. Can I meet you on the steps outside the building?” He asked. 

“Yep! Sounds good! I’ll see you— YEOW!!!” Your foot smacked your dresser as you spun towards the door. You yelped as your phone flew out of your hands and landed on the ground a solid meter away. 

You groaned, rolling onto your back and sitting up, tears springing to your eyes. 

“Shit—! Aeons, that hurt,” you winced.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?? Is everything all right?” You heard Gepard say loudly. 

“Y-yeah. I tripped, s’all,” you grunted, placing a hand on the wall to keep yourself steady as you rose to your feet. “That definitely woke me up,”

“Take care of yourself,” he sighed, relieved.

“Yep, yep! I’ll see you— soon!” You choked out and hung up frantically. You placed both hands against the wall and hit your head against it repeatedly, groaning in shame. 

———

You were in the middle of fixing the broken cash register when a familiar blonde-haired woman walked through the door.

“Serval!” Your head shot up as you gave her an excited wave. “Good to see you! What brings you to our shop today?” 

She strolled over to the counter, where various pieces of equipment were sprawled out on the surface. 

“Mornin’ (Y/N)! Molly and I were just RAVING about how the flowers Gepard got us have livened up the place!” Serval tossed her silky hair over her shoulder. “We were thinking of buying some more, since we could really use some more color in our lives,”

“I'm sure flowers are better than soot,” you giggled. “What did the Ministry of Education say about the experiment you were running?”

“Huh?” Serval looked bewildered. 

“The research project? Y’know, the one that exploded??” A shadow of confusion flickered across your face.

“Oh! Yes, that one! They were gracious enough to give me an extension.” She shook her head up and down aggressively, her eyes rattling in her skull.

“I'm glad to hear it!” You wiped your forehead in relief, turning to some pots resting on a cabinet. “So… as for the flowers… I know you have the purple ones, so why not go with yellow? Purple can represent maturity and elegance, and yellow might round it out a bit.” You ran your fingers across the wood.

“Although, if you'd like to keep the place feeling more formal, you could go with these blue ones here,” you quipped. “They match Molly’s hair,” 

You lifted up the planter that held said flowers, which were white on the inside, but faded into a dark teal on the edges.

Serval reached out to touch them tentatively, her eyes flicking towards something behind you.

“Hmm… what’s that one over there?” She said inquisitively.

“Oh--!” You spun around to see what she was pointing at. It was a wooden window box, filled to the brim with flowers of every hue.

“That’s one of our clearance boxes! We had a mix up with the seed packets during planting time, so they’re 30% off. Pretty interesting looking, right?” You lifted up the box, your chest heaving with effort. 

“Definitely.” She peered over the walls of the box with an approving smile. “I'll take this one,”

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“One hundo percent. This one speaks to me,” she mused.

“Fair enough. Whatever pleases the Rock Star of Belobog.” You shook your head and shrugged.

“Oh please, you flatter me,” she chuckled. You pushed the components of the cash register into a neat pile to make way for the flowers. 

A ghost of a smile crossed your lips as you recalled how painstakingly long Gepard had spent picking up the flowers for his sister, and just how spontaneously she had chosen hers. 

I can’t believe I know people equally as incredible, but as different as night and day, you contemplated.

“So, (Y/N),” Serval piped up, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You seem awfully chipper today. Did something good happen?”

Maybe something involving a certain bashful captain? She thought with a sly smile. 

The air in the room seemed to turn pink as you swayed happily. 

“Well, business has been skyrocketing lately with the weather getting warmer.” You rested your head in the palm of your hand thoughtfully. “More people feel like they have the means to take care of flowers! In fact, there’s been a ton of people coming in today,”

“Awwh, that's wonderful!” She said joyfully. “...anything else?”

Her smile grew wider. Serval could almost sense there was something you weren’t telling her. You gulped. 

“Um— well, Gepard and I are heading to the theater today,” you said, a little quieter than the way you had talked previously. “I wanted to thank him for guiding me around the plaza a few days back,”

“What??? Why didn't you lead with that??” She slammed her hands on the desk, flabbergasted. You flinched and shook your head. 

“It’s not THAT big of a deal,” you brushed it off sheepishly. “Just a little outing, nothing more to it,”

Serval’s bottom lip quivered with something between joy and rage.

“It is too!” she argued. “My brother lives and breathes his work. I can't believe someone is finally helping him loosen up a bit,” She sniffled dramatically. “I think I'm getting teary-eyed!” 

You handed her the hefty window box with a smirk. “If you say so. Well then, it was great seeing you! Take good care of them,” 

“Of course! Have fun on your date!!!” Serval sang, pushing the door open.

“Wait—,”

She gave you a salute with her free hand and slipped through the crack in the door before it shut. 

Well, that was weird, to say the least,

———

“... and seventy-five grams high nutrient fertilizer,” Gepard murmured, reading off the slip of paper you had given him. He scooped some fine powder from the burlap sack, lowering himself to eye-level with the plant with the meticulousness of a scientist. 

His blue eyes were fixed on the measuring spoon, tilting it onto the plant when his sister barged in. She was carrying a box of flowers, almost slamming the door into the wall with how much foece she put in. Gepard flinched so hard he flung the spoon into the air and it hit the ceiling with a “thud”.

“Geppie!!!” Serval shouted affectionately as the spoon landed on the hardwood. “A little birdie told me that you have a date at the theater today!!” 

She sauntered in and set down the flower box on his desk. He looked on sadly as bits of soil fell onto his paperwork.

“A d-date? Where’d you get that from? And how did you even get in here!? I thought the Landau—,” he stumbled over his own words and she cut him off, too elated to notice how she was trampling his attempts to speak.

“I stopped by the flower shop this morning. You never mentioned anything of the sort!” She swayed excitedly.

“That’s because I found out today,” Gepard grumbled. “They merely had an extra ticket.” He bent down to gather some of the fertilizer into a pile on the floor.

Unless… they said it was a date..? He felt hope rising in his chest but he quickly squashed it. Hope? No, he wasn’t hoping. Of course not. 

Serval smirked, stepping closer to him. 

“Don't think I don't notice how utterly smitten you are.” She looked at her nails with a frivolous expression. “You know, how your face gets all rosy, your voice gets higher, and you listen extra hard when they speak?” 

Gepard’s lips pulled back into a thin line. He glanced at the bamboo plant one last time before spinning around and dropping onto the bed, the mattress straining with the sudden weight.

The Captain rested his head in his hands, heaving a sigh as his blue eyes stared onto the floor. 

“Is it… that obvious?” He said quietly.

Serval widened her eyes in surprise. Usually her brother stood his ground and brushed her off. She took a break from her teasing to plop down on the feather bed next to him. 

“Maybe just to me,” she answered. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. 

“After all, I've known you long enough that I've never seen you care about anything this much. Your sister gets a little worried sometimes! You practically live and breathe your work.” Serval leaned slightly off the bed to get a closer look at his face, analyzing his features.

“And, as much as I love to tease you about it, I’m really happy my cute little brother has found someone he wants to offer his heart to,”

She rifled a hand through his hair teasingly, sending golden strands everywhere. Gepard’s hands shot up defensively with a grunt. They sat in silence for a bit, until she spoke up again.

“Also, I’ve noticed you've gotten pretty good at taking care of plants now too! Look at you, my little gardener!” Said Serval. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair now. I doubt the Landau Residence really wants me around anyways.” She shrugged, picking up her box. She kicked the door open unceremoniously and skipped out into the hallway, leaving a plethora of confused faces in her wake. 

Gepard sighed. She hadn’t let him get a single word in edgewise. It was the trademark Landau stubbornness, after all.

———

Vaska’s stream of praises for the cafe you had chosen today were endless. She had the expression of someone who had just won the lottery as she bit into a cinnamon strudel. 

“Mmm, thish ish sooo delicious...” She licked the sugary dust off her fingers in satisfaction, wiping her lips and picking up another one. “How’d you find this place?”

“A friend introduced me,” you replied as you sipped your raspberry mint tea. “I'm surprised you didn't know about it, actually,”

“Well, I'm trying to avoid spending money because I’m saving for the upcoming sequel of my favorite book!” She giggled. The air seemed to be filled with sparkles all of a sudden. 

“Is it to Tale of the Winterlands?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Bingo!”

“Aren't you afraid of it being confiscated?” 

“Not anymore,” Vaska crossed her arms with a smile. “It’s pending approval. Anyways, I didn't know you had friends outside of the flower shop. I'm glad you're finally branching out!” 

She rested her index finger on her cheek before continuing. “Although… Meg is gonna have your head if you keep coming back late after deliveries,”

“Gah, I know, I know. I just get so caught up talking to one of the clients. The friend I was just talking about,”

“Hmph. I'm just trying to keep you out of the fire, you know. On the other hand, she sounds delightful! What’s she like?”

“Um,” you paused. “He’s a guard,”

“A guard?” Her eyes glittered as she leaned across the table. “No way. An Underworlder and a guard, huh? What an interesting pair!” 

You chuckled. “I guess you're right. He can be a little awkward sometimes, but he's very genuine and diligent!” 

“As all good guards are, of course,” she nodded. A surprised expression flickered across your face.

“Vaska… Is there something you want to tell me?” You jested. “I didn't know you had a type. Besides the musician, of course,”

You've never seen someone’s expression go deadpan so quickly. 

“No. Nope. You've got it all wrong!!” She crossed her forearms in an “X”. 

“The idea of romance isn't half bad, but being in it sounds way too hard. If anything, my type would be more like Anna, from—,”

“Tale of the Winterlands,” you interjected again. She hummed in approval.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “You’re both very independent,”

“Aww, you think so?” A rosy blush spread across your co-worker’s face. “It's so nice to have a friend like you,”

She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “Anyways… what's the name of your guard friend?” You took a sip of your own before replying.

“Gepard,” 

Vaska’s jaw dropped through the floor.

“WHAT?!?” She stood up and slammed her hands onto the table. You recoiled in shock, her exclamation almost blowing your beret off. Heads turned towards your table as you panicked.

“Shh! Vaska, keep it down!” You hissed, placing your hands on her forearms in an attempt to soothe her. She sat back down and began to chew on her fingernails.

“Gepard… Gepard Landau??”

“Uh-huh,”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, built like a tank?”

“Yeah, what about him? He’s not like a serial killer or something, right??”

Your mind flashed back to the times he directed you to the inside of the sidewalk or smiled tenderly at the flowers in the shop when he thought no one was looking.

No way—,

“No, goodness gracious no. Of course not! Gepard is the furthest thing from a serial killer you could get.” She shook her head vigorously, her beret flying off and drifting to the floor. She leaned down from her chair to grab it, her face still red from shouting.

“Then WHY is this such a big deal??” You inquired with an exasperated look on your face. 

“It’s because HE'S THE CAPTAIN OF THE SILVERMANE GUARDS,” she spat out in a single breath. She let out a wheeze as she dropped her head onto the table.

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. 

“Th--, Th-the Captain?!? Oh Aeons…” you stammered, biting on a mint leaf. You winced as the icy juices spread across your tongue. 

“Didn't you notice no other ‘guard’ in the area looked like him?”

“I mean, yes. But I thought the guards OUTSIDE the city wore stuff like that too,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“Oh by the PRESERVATION.” She ran a palm across her face. 

“And— and I did notice people gave us some weird looks when we danced in the square—,”

“You DANCED WITH HIM???”

Vaska was about to rip her hair out. You buried your face in your arms and nodded. 

“...Vaska, does this mean I have to stop hanging out with him?” You said quietly.

She grabbed you by the cheeks and pulled you close.

“NO. Of course not. It’s just that.. I’d hate for you to be involved in some high class squabble or something,” she snorted. “You know how easily agitated the nobles are,”

“Er—, Not really?”

“Well, they are! Who knows, you probably already have a bunch of jealous suitors!” 

You held your palms out to placate her. “I mean, Gepard is great and all, but it’s really not like that. He values his work more than anything,” 

“You can't ever be too safe.” She gave you a warning glance. “If rumors get spread, and you lose your job, who would I look forward to talking to every day??” 

“I’d still come and visit!” You protested. “And I hardly believe Meg would kick me out because of a bunch of silly rumors,” you said flatly.

“That is NOT the issue,” she groaned. You reached out and clasped her hands.

“Don't worry, Vaska. I'm gonna be careful, okay?” 

“I trust you, but just know I will be terrified. Forever. ‘Til the end of days,” she bemoaned. 

“I get where you’re coming from,” you reassured her. “Just remember, this is my decision. I’d never take on anything I couldn’t handle!”

She pouted, stretching her arm across the cafe table and snagging your tea. She took a sip and handed it back to you.

“Ugh. Too much milk,” she scowled before quickly returning to her normal self. “Now, Tell me what being friends with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards is like…” 

You laughed gently. 

“Of course. I'd be happy to,”

———

Later, after you had left the cafe, you opened up your phone and sent a text to Serval. 

To: Serval

You: Serval, why did no one bother telling me that your brother is the captain of the Silvermane Guards???

Serval: …belobog’s last bastion of hope?

You: Do NOT avoid the question

Serval: ahahaha

Serval: sorry, sorry

Serval: I thought you knew

You: I did not.

Serval: oops

Serval: don’t worry, it’s not like he's any less dorky when he's commanding platoons or anything

You: SERVAL

Read at 13:22 pm ✅

Seriously???

You just about threw your phone across the street. 

———

The wind was a little stronger than usual the day you met Gepard for your theater “date”. You had to bring along a pack of tissues to keep from sniffling the entire walk there. It almost felt like little ice crystals were lodging in your throat as you breathed.

The Captain was leaning up against a wall outside of the building. He was wearing less armor than usual, this time only dressed in a white military tunic with a black jacket underneath. His usual gauntlet was missing and had been replaced with black leather gloves, and a few blue and gold metals dotted his chest. 

Wow. That is a LOT of medals, you whispered internally. You felt a little weird in your traditional Belobogian attire. You suspected people would just assume he was escorting some poor pedestrian. 

Even without the uniform you were so used to seeing, he was no less noticeable.

Or dashing, you thought, glancing off to the side. Then you remembered the conversation you had with Serval earlier. You felt something tug at your heart.

I’m sure he has his reasons, you shook your head to clear the doubt. 

“There’s quite a sizable crowd today. Is it always like this?” You spoke up, trotting beside him towards the entrance stairs. 

The building was grand, it stood out like a gem amidst gravel alongside the other buildings. It had columns made of intricately carved stone, and brilliantly dyed banners hung from every surface possible. 

“Ah, yes. The Golden Theater is a magnet for people seeking a way to spend their leisure.” Gepard adjusted the collar of his jacket. “Take care not to get trampled,”

“I’ll try,” you said haphazardly. You pulled out the delicate silver tickets from your pocket and held them up into the sunlight, examining them energetically. 

His eyes rolled down to where your small form stood shivering in the cold, but still trying your best to keep the tremor out of your voice. A part of him wanted to reach down and pull you closer. He looked forward again to prevent himself from thinking too hard about it.

Gepard noticed that your eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual, especially on the medals. He felt a twinge of nervousness somewhere deep in his chest. 

I'm sure it's nothing, he sighed inwardly. 

You arrived at the mahogany doors to the theater, held open by rather formal-looking workers, and went in. You squinted in surprise at just how bright it was due to gaudy crystal chandeliers reflecting light across the walls. It smelled like velvet and old books, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just unfamiliar.

“You seem very excited,” he said, gazing down at you. You nodded. 

“Excited?? I’m thrilled! Yet another thing I can cross off the bucket list!” You said confidently, pressing your fist to your chest. “I'm sure you've seen these events a thousand times, right? It must be pretty weird seeing me get excited about these types of things.” You pulled at the fabric of your clothing to distract yourself. 

“This is the first time you’ve been able to take advantage of the activities offered on the Surface. It would be unreasonable of me to expect you not to be thrilled,” Gepard said, surprised. “And I haven’t, for the record. Serval was never one to enjoy formal events.” He shrugged. 

He gazed back at you as you stared at the paintings decorating the hallway. A lot of them were snowy and unforgiving landscapes, illustrating the devastation the Eternal Freeze had caused. 

“I guess you wouldnt’ve had too much time for it, either. Captain’s duties, right?” You chirped. 

Gepard froze. 

It was something about the way you said it, tinged with just a little too much enthusiasm. 

You continued to walk, seemingly unbothered while he frantically searched for something to bring up. You stopped at a display of a metal sculpture and “oohed” at it, then dodged a random passerby as more people began to stream in. It didn’t look like you were mad, at least. 

That feeling of nervousness from earlier resurfaced, making him feel like his insides were churning. Gepard was at a loss for words. He had assumed you knew at first, but it became clearer as time went on that you didn’t.

It was unusual for him NOT to mention it, but after your first meeting, he felt like he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to lose that strange feeling of being on equal footing with someone. 

You were so genuine and inquisitive, unlike the numerous businessmen and aristocrats of the city. The burden on his shoulders lessened the slightest bit when he talked to you. 

It’s not like he minded dedicating his life to his duties, but he didn’t want to let go of the warmth you offered him. 

Was he selfish for wanting that?

His eyebrows scrunched up as he mulled over what the right thing to say would be, but he couldn't drum up a solution before an usher gave you both a slip of paper and showed you to your seats. They were more towards the back of the chamber, next to a door covered in black fabric to minimize the amount of light getting in. You two sat down on the velvet cushions in silence, while the auditorium around you was bustling with chatter. 

You clenched your fists in your lap, beginning to get a little nervous at the silence as well. Gepard was a man of few words, but it was far too quiet for your liking. 

Was that the wrong thing to say? Your thoughts fired at a mile a minute. Maybe he thinks I’m snooping around… Does he think I only want to get closer to him because of his position??

I guess people of our standing wouldn’t normally hang out anyways. Vaska had a point. I do feel kind of weird now that I know,

I’m not afraid of the nobles, you realized. I’m afraid I’m going to bring him down, 

Scenarios started flashing into your head, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you tried to expel them from your brain. As the curtains rose and the lights dimmed, you tried to focus your mind on the story instead.

A show this grand had never graced the likes of the Underworld, you realized as it started. The play you had bought tickets to on a whim was called a “musical”, you believed they called it. 

I don't see why they need to sing to tell a story, you thought skeptically. The lead singer was gorgeous, though. Her name was Tamila, if you remembered correctly. You took a look at the pamphlet that the usher gave you, when blinding light filled your vision. 

Blinking like a warp trotter in the headlights of a streetcar, you realized one of the spotlights had turned your way, onto the door, to be exact. 

You saw the fabric swish open as a woman in a gilded mask whisked out, belting out a new musical number and leaping down the aisle. Several more dancers followed behind her, swooping their arms in synchrony. 

You had to admit, it was a cool idea, although you could use a little less light in your face. You figured it had to do with the fact you had only experienced the serene light of the geomarrow column most of your life, not whatever the heck this was. 

Even with the ridiculous amount of light in your eyes, you came to realize with a start that most of it wasn’t even hitting you. Gepard had it way worse, he was actually catching the majority of the spotlight. You could see how his blue eyes were squinting as he tried his best to focus on the scene. It was kind of cute, actually. 

Huh, so it’s just like in real life too, you thought, amused. You made up your mind at that very moment. 

If Gepard was the sun, it was only natural others would live in his shadow. It didn’t matter if he was the captain or not, as long as you still wanted to spend time together, everything was fine as it was.

Besides, if anyone ever gave you flack, you could just get out your old mining pickaxe. 

You turned your eyes back to the play, the troupe of people that had entered from the door had finally joined the main group onstage. The dance grew into a passionate frenzy, and then finished with the masked woman sweeping Tamila into the air, then catching her as the cast cheered. 

Clapping joyfully, you watched the actors bow while the audience showered them in bouquets. 

Wow. No wonder there were so many people coming in today, you realized. You wilted a bit as one of the actors stepped on a Rainbow and turned it to mush. 

Gepard couldn’t help but smile at your appreciation for the show as you left the theater, stopping outside the building to avoid the worst of the crowd.

The wind was even stronger than before. You tucked your face into the collar of your shirt miserably while shuffling behind Gepard in hopes he could block the wind for you. 

“Th-thank you for coming with me G-Gepard,” you shivered. “I know h-how you must have a limited amount of free time,”

“Of course,” he replied. “With the Fragmentum letting up, I’ve been able to be out and about more often,” 

The Captain noticed you shying behind him, so he stepped a little closer. You probably weren’t quite used to the cold yet. You thanked him silently.

“In fact,” he continued. “I’ve taken it upon myself to be a volunteer tour guide at the museum as of late,”

“The History and uh… whatever one?” You sniffled.

“History and Culture, yes.” He nodded wisely. He brushed a couple stray hairs out of his face but the wind immediately blew them back.

“Gepard, that’s incredible. You work as hard as ten men!” You giggled. He snorted gently.

“I should stop by sometime. Do you know when the hours are?”

“I’m afraid I don't,” Gepard said, placing a hand on his chin deliberately. “But there should be a sign outside the entrance,”

“If you want, we can stop by before we part ways,” he offered. The Captain pointed over to a faraway building as you walked down the stairs, the crowd having finally eased up.

“Only if you want to. I don't want to drag you by the ear or anything,” you grinned but immediately regretted it as your teeth chattered.

He shook his head. “I'd never offer to do anything I didn’t want to do,”

You gave him a skeptical look. 

“You offered to clean Serval’s workshop…”

———

You could hardly stop yourself from breaking into a run as you neared the museum entrance. A fountain with a large Geomarrow heater sat outside the building and you almost forgot what you were there for as you watched it, mesmerized. A museum employee was standing in front of a corkboard, which you took a quick picture of. Then you turned back to the fountain. 

“Whoa, running water,” you murmured, awestruck. You turned to Gepard, who was standing a few meters away, and called,

“Hey! Gepard! How much trouble would I be in if I drank some??”

“The plumbing system in this city goes back 700 years. I wouldn’t recommend it,” he responded flatly, folding his arms. 

You turned back to the fountain, humbled. You didn’t need any more iron in your system than you already had. 

Resting your arms on the rim of the base, a glint of bronze flickered in the corner of your vision. A small coin landed in the water with a plop. 

You turned to see where it came from, promptly spotting Gepard walking up to you. He tapped you on the shoulder and placed a coin in the palm of your hand. He made a flicking motion with his thumb, which you mimicked, closing your eyes. The coin flipped into the air and landed in the top level of the fountain.

“Nice job,” Gepard commented. You pumped a fist into the air. 

“So… what did you wish for?” You inquired. He sighed.

“I don’t think I’m liable to tell you that,” said the Captain with a serious glance at you. Too serious. You prodded him with your index finger.

Giving up, you looked back at the water but suddenly something large and made of metal crashed into you from behind. 

You toppled in headfirst, inadvertently inhaling a huge gulp of water. You sputtered as you panicked and tried to figure out which way was up, when you felt arms wrap around your legs and back, lifting you out of the basin. 

Clinging to the chest of your rescuer, you coughed harshly, the cold air scraping your lungs while water dripped out your mouth. You were lowered gently onto the ground, recognizing the medals on Gepard’s coat as he stood up and leaned over you. 

“(Y/N), are you alright?” 

Is this the face of God? You wondered, dazed as you stared into his blue eyes. He shouted something you were definitely not paying attention to.

“(Y/N)—,” 

You sat up, almost knocking him in the head. Your eyes traveled towards two guilty looking kids, standing behind a cart wearing museum worker IDs.

“That was quite the fall. Did you hit anything?” 

“I don’t think so.” You winced, struggling to your feet. The museum aide hurried over.

“I am so, so, so sorry. We had a new display coming in and I should have told them to be more careful—,” You blinked at her as she clutched at her head in worry.

“Hey, it’s all right, really. I was like that when I got my first job,” you reassured her. You placed your hands on your hips and faced them.

“Although, if you two aren’t careful from now on, the Supreme Guardian might eat you for lunch, got it?” You said, amused. 

They both bowed and hurried off with the cart. A sculpture labeled “The Galactic Baseballer” peeked out from the side of it. 

Interesting name, you thought.

“You handled that well,” Gepard said, bringing you back to reality. 

“Did I?” You tilted your head at him, lifting your sleeves to let the water drip off them. “Aeons above, I really took it upon myself to absorb every possible drop of water possible,” 

You crossed your arms over your soaked chest, feeling a chill beginning to seep into your bones.

Gepard’s shoulders tensed up. He swiveled his head around, scanning the city, while resting his hands on your forearms. You were left with no time to think before he swept you off your feet and hoisted you onto his shoulder. 

You were frazzled beyond belief. 

“Wait— wait, wait. Gepard what are you—,” Your eyes whisk across the pavement, surveying for any nosy onlookers. 

The Captain carried you to one of the many metal benches dotting the city with a geomarrow heater next to it. He set you down, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you gently.

‘Mind the wet sleeves, I’ll be right back,” he said before starting off towards some unknown destination. You basked in the newfound heat given off by the appliance, holding out your hands to gather as much of it as you could.

I feel like an abandoned pet, your inner voice said. You exhaled, your breath leaving a trail in the air. Thank Qlipoth for these heaters, 

Gepard’s coat was surprisingly comfortable. It was obviously made of durable materials meant to trap in heat. You pulled it closer around your shivering form, nuzzling into the collar contentedly. 

A couple minutes later, when you felt yourself beginning to drift off, you heard the familiar clanking of boots again. You opened your eyes, and lo and behold, it was Gepard!

“My apologies for taking so long. I grabbed you something to wear while your clothes dry.” He held out the item of clothing at arm's length for you to see better. 

You inhaled sharply as you realized it was the same piece of clothing you had been staring at so intently the day you toured the city together. It looked like it was exactly your size, too. 

He remembered?

You felt your heart start to race as he handed it to you. You took it gratefully, taking a moment to stare at the piece. Burying your face in it, you felt tears begin to prick at your eyes. 

It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be this kind,

It was honestly overwhelming.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, your voice muffled. “I’m warming up just fine.” You finally raised your head, blinking the tears away, and rubbed your shoes together to get some of the feeling back into your feet.

“Let’s get you home,” he stated. “The windchill on the surface is nothing to joke about,” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied. You got up, still wearing Gepard’s coat, and hung onto his arm for good measure while you walked. You did mourn the loss of the heater, but this time, your teeth didn’t chatter.

“I’m sorry for having to borrow your coat, even though it’s cold out,” you murmured. “You really are the perfect person to protect the city, you know that?” You smiled up at him gently. Gepard’s nerves buzzed with electricity. 

“It’s nothing extraordinary,” he sighed. “I merely take protecting the things I care about seriously. That’s what being a guard is about,”

He tried not to pay attention to how tenaciously you were gripping onto his sleeve.

“Well, I think you’re extraordinary.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

As cheesy as that is,

You handed Gepard his coat as you returned to your quaint little flower shop. How badly he wanted to tell you that you could borrow it, and return it to him later so he could see you again. He smiled to himself as you went back inside. 

This would do for now.

———

“Great heavens, (Y/N). Did you fall into the ocean or something?” Vaska exclaimed as you dragged yourself upstairs.

“No,” you grumbled, the tips of your coat still dripping. “We all know oceans are a myth,”

“Looking at you, I'd believe they were real,” she fired back as you retreated into your room. You hurriedly shed your wet coat and shoes, putting on the garment Gepard had bought you. 

You turned to look at it from every angle in the full-length mirror before deciding to collapse onto your bed. You combed your fingers through your hair, picking up your floral-patterned pillow and squeezing it tightly. 

Am I— am I in some kind of rom-com?? You groaned inwardly. Your face was flushed with something along the likes of happiness, embarrassment, or both.

Gepard had been nothing but kind during the time you spent together. After years of being a mere vagrant, you almost felt… special when he looked at you.

His blue eyes were so thoughtful and considerate and—,

No!!! I’ve got to keep it together! 

Rolling over, you pressed the pillow into your face and let a guttural shriek loose from your lungs. You chucked it across the room, your hair now a mess.

Meg’s voice rang from downstairs. “KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!!” 

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

One Call Away - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: Someone was following you.

You had no idea why. It was supposed to be a casual shopping trip on your day out. What the hell were you going to do?

▸ Genre(s): Fluff/Angst

▸ Word Count: 1.9k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Reader is short + slightly fem coded (I’m trying to get better at this), food mention, established (platonic) relationship, mentions of stalking

A/N: THIS IS PART OF A SERIES. I AM SO SORRY IF I CONFUSED SOME OF YALL. Reader does actual florist things in the series, just not this one in particular!!!

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

You had never had any real reason to be wary of someone. 

Yes, you had regularly run into conflicts with other miners over resources, but they were always upfront with their intentions. 

Here, in Jarilo-VI’s Overworld, you had expected life to be much safer, if not overly so. Your trusting yet oblivious nature led you to be oblivious of just how nasty people on the surface could be. That’s why you had hardly noticed a man’s hands lingering on yours the slightest bit longer than usual while on the job. 

You had been wandering for a while along the alleyways of the Administrative district, when you noticed passerby in particular seemed to be cropping up wherever you went. While turning corners, you kept catching glimpses of their outfit in your field of view. An expensive looking brown coat with black loafers, to be exact. 

You initially dismissed it as a minor coincidence, but after fifteen minutes of this person seemingly refusing to pass you, that possibility seemed less than likely. 

Thinking about the possibility someone might want to harm you or your friends made you break out in a cold sweat.

You decided to test your theory out by making a detour into the crowded shopping street. The street looped back towards the main plaza, so you figured it would be easy to confirm if you were being tailed. 

Sure enough, after making three right turns, the suspicious person was still following you. You spotted half of their familiar burgundy coat sticking out from an alleyway while pretending to tie your shoe. 

You hadn’t seen their face yet, so you figured it was a better idea to wait it out until you got a better idea of their features, enough of an visual to make a report to the Silvermane Guards. But you had to ensure your own safety first. 

There were enough people around that you felt you were in a good position to scan your surroundings, but a direct confrontation was NOT the right way to go. Even if you were sure you could take this person in a fight, there could easily be more people lingering around as backup, in case they wanted to abduct you. Which was puzzling to think about, especially for someone of your social status. 

Your position as a former Underworlder could also be used against you. They could frame you as a criminal or a mentally unstable person far more easily. Try as you might to ignore it, classism was a huge underlying problem in Belobog. 

I can’t go home now, You thumbed a coin around in your hand. This seems a little too far-fetched for petty thievery. There are plenty of easier targets around… right?

What could they possibly want from me??

You ran through the possibilities whilst trying to placate your nerves, making your way towards the nearest place you knew a guard was stationed. But to your surprise, there was no one there.

Oh for—, Just my luck. I forgot most of the guards are out for a mission briefing today, and the flower shop is too far away for me to reach,

Gripping the coin until your knuckles turned white, you made your decision. You slipped your phone out of your pocket, punched in a number, and stood in a populated, well-lit area while angling yourself in the direction of your stalker.

You heard the line ring once.

Twice.

And then your ear was promptly blown off by the loudest music you’ve ever heard. 

“Hello??” You said, a little louder than necessary. You could hear the banging of drums and Serval singing in the background. 

Shit, You suspected someone bumped into a table while dancing and knocked her phone onto the floor or something.

You hung up, swiveling your head around, and promptly ducked into the nearest coffee shop. The dim lighting in the building made you blink a few times so your eyes could better adjust. Every other floorboard creaked when you walked on it and you were sure there was a stray nail sticking up on at least one of them. 

It wasn’t too crowded, an old couple was playing cards in the corner and a few other patrons were reading magazines by the windows, but that was it. 

You walked up to the counter, where a bored looking young man was attending to the coffee pot. He wore a light blue apron that was covered in coffee stains, particularly on his left side, and large, dark circles were visible underneath his eyes. He probably had a lot going on, you figured.

The light in the pastry display case was dead, but the treats inside it sure smelled good. 

“Excuse me,” you chirped. “Could I get an… apple strudel please?”

The man hummed in response. You figured you could grab something to lob at your stalker if worst came to worst. 

“Oh, do you also happen to have soda by any chance?” 

The barista raised a tired eyebrow at you. 

“Um… no? This is a coffee shop,” 

You had to restrain yourself from pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment. 

“Right. Sorry, stupid question. Would you mind if I made a call in here?” 

“Knock yourself out,” he shrugged. “They don’t pay me enough to tell you otherwise,” The man grabbed a broom and started sweeping around the counter.

Planting yourself in a seat facing the door, you steadied your breath and prepared to make another call. This time the line didn’t get a chance to ring before Gepard, reliable as per the usual, picked up. 

“(Y/N). My apologies. I’m a little bit busy at the moment. What do you need?” 

“Ahem. Hi Gepard! I am so, so sorry to be calling you right before your mission but I could use a little bit of help,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. 

“I think someone is following me. Scratch that, I know it. Serval didn’t pick up but I was hoping you could walk me to the Silvermane guard station, maybe…?”

You heard Gepard inhale sharply through the phone.

“Where are you? I’ll be right there,”

“Whoa whoa, hold on. You don’t have to come if you’re in the middle of something—,”

“That’s preposterous. There’s nothing I need to attend to right now,” he said decisively. An increase in movement on his side ensued. “Where are you?? Are you safe?” 

“Yes—, yes, I’m safe. I’m in a coffee shop on the corner of the shopping alley. It’s a few blocks down from Serval’s workshop,”

“Okay. Do you know what this person that’s following you looks like?”

“I have a general idea…” you pulled a pen out of the pocket on your uniform. “Hold on,”

“Stay on the line while I get there, alright?”

“Got it,” You glanced upward once more to check on the position of the suspicious person. 

They were definitely closer now. Close enough you could discern the outline of glasses on their face and a mole on their right cheek. The skin on the back of your neck prickled as you realized you hadn’t yet seen the full extent of how far they were willing to go.

Yeah? Well, two can play at that game,

You started sketching their face on your notepad as well as jotting down the details of your encounter, locking your eyes directly onto them. There was no way you would stand being treated like a specimen, even with your heart thumping like mad. 

Keep it together (Y/N), you can do it,

The suspicious guy, yes you were certain it was a man, tried sneaking a glance when he thought you were distracted, and had the misfortune of catching you glaring at him full-force. He looked away hurriedly much to your disgust.

After a few minutes of this nonsense, you had definitely compiled a sufficient amount of information. You heard a commotion outside, along with the clanking of metal, and turned to spot your favorite tall, blonde-haired man (you didn’t know any others) outside the display window of the coffee shop. 

Gepard had almost walked past you, one hand was pressed to his forehead to block out the sun and his face was all scrunched up. He only stopped and turned around when he spotted you waving at him frantically from inside. 

You let out an elated sigh and leapt out of your seat towards the door. The paper bag in your hand crinkled as you practically tripped over your own feet to get to him.

“Oh, thank Qlipoth,” you said breathlessly, propping open the glass door. You spotted the creep vanish down a darkened street and mentally kicked yourself in frustration.

“I’m here. Is everything okay? They didn’t try to hurt you, did they?”

Gepard’s presence was looming and his worried blue eyes stared holes into you. Your gaze fell towards the ground. 

“N-no…” you stammered. “I’m alright, it’s just—,”

Your throat felt like it was beginning to close up. Before your brain could process what you were doing, you had wrapped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself into his chest. 

Gepard let out a soft gasp and lifted a hand towards you. The soft fur of his collar effectively hid your face from him while you took deep, shaky breaths. You felt the warmth of his hand pat the top of your head gently. 

He let you stay that way for a while before you pulled yourself away. 

A few teardrops fell from your eyes as you lifted your face up, but you wiped them off with your sleeve. Sighing softly, you shook your head to clear your mind.

“Everything alright now?” He said gently, a couple wisps of his golden hair swaying with the breeze. 

“Y-yeah,” you replied timidly. “I needed that,”

“I’m glad,” Gepard exhaled. “Anyone would be scared in a situation like that,” 

“Scared? Pfft, me? No…” You tried your best attempt at a joke. His expression didn’t change. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared,” he spoke matter-of-factly. “What’s important is that you did the right thing by calling me,” 

You nodded weakly, turning in the direction of the strange man who had since disappeared. You handed Gepard the notes you had taken as you started in the direction of the guard station. He complimented you for you diligence. 

“I wanted to take a photo of the guy, but I wasn’t sure if it would provoke him,” you murmured while turning a corner. “Anyways, I’m sorry I—,”

The Captain let out a huff. “I assure you, there’s no need for apologies. Your safety is my utmost priority as the captain of the Silvermane Guards,”

“Right, y-yeah,” You gave him a sheepish half smile as you entered the building. 

“There will be some guards here in a moment to question you so we can find out why that man was following you. I trust they’ll treat you well,” Gepard gestured to two Silvermane guards at the front desk, who gave you a bow. 

You nodded. “Thanks a lot for helping me today, Gepard. Good luck at work!” 

He gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder before he exited towards the direction of Qlipoth fort. 

The two guards entered the room and began questioning you. With the report you had compiled, they assured you they would find the culprit soon, and would do their best to keep you safe until then. Later, they escorted you home, much to the surprise of Vaska, who burst into tears, thinking you had been arrested. You pulled her into a tight hug and sighed.

Whoever was following you, you swore they would never fool you twice.

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

A Care Package for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: It’s been a month and a half since Gepard left for his mission to retake part of the city. You decide to send him a gift to warm his heart!

▸ Genre(s): Fluff

▸ Word Count: 4.5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Reader is short, food mention, established (platonic) relationship,

A/N: GAH IM SORRY IT’S LATE. Will reader ever sort out their feelings for Gepard? Who knows? Also reblogs are greatly appreciated. Don’t want people following the series to miss out!

MASTERLIST (MORE GEPARD HERE)

Your marker was beginning to run out of ink.

Specifically the one you had been using to cross off days on your calendar. It had been half a month since Gepard had left for his mission on the front lines— and although you weren’t exactly sobbing into your pillow every night, you did miss him.

A lot.

Probably more than the acceptable level.

Those red lines stared at you every day mockingly, reminding you that your friend was fighting tooth and nail for the safety of the city. Thinking about his job as a soldier made your stomach churn.

Was he sleeping enough? Eating enough? What would he do if he got injured?

What if he didn’t come back one day?

His track record of victories should’ve discouraged you from worrying about him, but in fact, it did the exact opposite. You feared he might be crushed by the weight of the expectations placed on him and end up disregarding his own safety for the sake of others.

Although Serval didn’t seem half as worried as you were. In fact, she seemed as cheery as ever when you met her and Molly for lunch on the weekend. She did have experience in running military campaigns, and she was Gepard’s own sister for Qlipoth’s sake! She’d dealt with his absences probably more times than she could count.

And so you came to the conclusion that this level of anxiety about Gepard must be irrational. But attempting to steel yourself and block out thoughts of him didn’t stop your hands from shaking when you handed people their change across the counter of the flower shop.

This kind of feeling was different than the ones you had experienced in the Underworld. Yes, you experienced danger often in the mines, but at least it was just you that was in danger. Not a loved one. This time you were forced to watch someone else fighting tooth and nail.

It felt so viscerally uncomfortable.

With all these thoughts constantly running through your head, it was time you found something to do instead of ruminating over his absence—

—before your head exploded, that is.

While checking out the latest gardening magazines at the library, you spotted a sleeve of periodicals you weren’t familiar with, titled Crocheter’s Weekly.

Huh. This looks fun, you thought, reaching your hand out to grab it. It had last month’s date on it, but it’s not like it mattered.

Anyone can do it! The subtitle exclaimed in garish red font. Fun for both friends and family!

You flipped open the issue curiously. The first few pages were filled with a few photographs of blankets, and a full-page advertisement for a phonograph. On the subsequent ones, you were happily surprised by the variety of works showcased by the magazine. They looked relatively simple, such as a plushie of a cat, a handbag, and a cup holder. Turning the page, you inhaled sharply when your eyes landed on a picture of a woman, who had an intricately patterned blanked sitting draped across her lap. She looked like the founding father of arts and crafts.

She sat upon on a rocking chair with her hands folded wisely, and had narrow eyes with droopy lids. What seemed to be an entire quiver of crochet needles rested at her side.

Large print at the top of the page read “Ask Bertha”. Your eyes scanned the questions asked by, presumably, the readers.

—“Dear Bertha, what is your favorite yarn to use?”

Dear reader,

My favorite yarn is mohair, size three, of course. It’s rather expensive, but has high luster and sheen. It’s quite warm too! I first came across it when my husband visited the market during one particularly cold winter. I crocheted him a pair of mittens which he wore for years! You’ll be sure to earn compliments on your pieces wherever you go!

—“Dear Bertha, will you be at the ‘Knitter’s Convention’ this year?”

Dear reader,

I wouldn’t miss it even if Belobog froze over! I look forward to seeing the creations this year. The theme is “sky”, so make sure to snap up as much blue yarn as you can!

P.S, Margaret from the Fourth District doesn’t stand a chance for first prize, although I’m sure everyone already knew that.

—“Dear Bertha, what brand of Geomarrow heater do you use?”

Huh. That didn’t seem to be a question about crocheting. Next question.

—“Dear Bertha, what should I do if I suspect my husband is cheating on me with an Underworld woman?”

Your eyebrows shot through the roof.

Dear reader,

You have my deepest condolences. The very idea is preposterous. Underworlders are the most brash and uncouth people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. I met one the other day and he told me straight to my face that he didn’t enjoy tea! Could you believe he said that even after I asked so kindly? Something about how “it’s just leaf water”. That doctor is strange too, the one they call Natasha. I heard she used to live on the surface but chose the dirt and grime of the Underworld over the Administrative District!

Anyways, about your husband. Get him to sign a prenup and gut him for all he’s worth. Sending my thoughts your way!

Your eyes sprung open as you registered the sewage this woman was spewing.

Oh that’s fucking IT, Bertha. I’ll show you. I thought you were wise but you betrayed my trust!

You tossed the magazine aside with a snort. Yes, cheating was most definitely bad, but being from the Underworld had nothing to do with it. You decided to find a guide on crocheting that was less of a waste of ink.

You soon found a hardcover book labeled “Crocheting 101 for Beginners”.

Much better, you thought to yourself.

You shuffled to the library counter with your chosen material and left in a huff. As you were exiting the library, a thought popped into your brain.

Gepard likes growing flowers, right? Maybe he’d like crocheting too,

You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest as you remembered you couldn’t call him to ask. He was unreachable, out there in that snowy hellscape.

Your days were a little bit emptier when one of your friends was gone, but you knew that to the Silvermane Captain, work came first and foremost. You could deal with him being gone in the meantime.

When you stepped through the door of the Florists, a harsh wind snuck past you and blew some petals off the flowers. You wilted a little.

Even with the Geomarrow heaters keeping the city warm, the wind still managed to make you shiver.

You froze as if struck by lightning.

That was it! You could make Gepard something to keep him warm while he was working. It was probably a hundred times as windy in the Outlying Snow Plains where he fought, right? Plus, it would be nice to show him your appreciation for the work he did.

Your brain was positively overflowing with ideas, and you scribbled them down on a spare order form you found in the filing cabinet.

Hmm, You tapped your chin with your pen. Earmuffs might get in the way of his hearing, so I think a scarf would do, You pumped your fists to yourself in self-satisfaction. It was decided! You would stop by the knitting store first thing tomorrow morning!

❆—❆—❆

Huh. That’s strange,

You slung your shopping bag over your shoulder and tilted your head, peering at the racks of yarn in the aisle. They were sorted by colors in the order of the rainbow— and the entire section containing anything remotely close to blue was missing.

That WITCH. She definitely planned this somehow!

You reflected on the sentence you had read about the crocheting competition with a grumpy expression.

You now had a personal vendetta against her for enacting a monopoly on blue yarn. This woman had the entirety of Jarilo-VI in the palm of her hand.

It wasn’t a good idea to turn the store upside down, or else you’d be proving Bertha right about Underworlders being “uncouth”, so you acquiesced and decided to search for another color.

It was a shame though— blue really would’ve suited him. It would have especially brought out his eyes, which were the color of deep sapphire pools, more clear and resolute than anything you’d ever seen.

You had told him they were pretty a few weeks ago, you recalled, but his face went pink and he changed the subject to his work at the museum.

Half-rolling your eyes in defeat, you froze when you spotted a pile of discounted yellow yarn in the corner.

Yellow… Yellow! That’ll do! You gasped. The medals on his uniform were decently close to yellow. (Although bright purple would have been cute.)

You scooped a bunch of it into your arms, along with a single bundle of white, and sprinted to the front of the store. A shopkeeper with chestnut hair and a brown apron stood organizing a few racks of fabric.

“I’ll take these, please!” You declared triumphantly, dumping your yarn across the counter. You fished your hands into your pockets for the money.

“Oh? How unusual! We haven’t sold anything but blue yarn for the past week,” the worker at the front counter commented. “What are you making?”

Placing the coins on the counter, you replied casually, “Just a scarf for a friend. He’s been on my mind lately,”

You picked up a pair of needles with the size recommended for your yarn and slid them across the counter. “Ah, and these too, please,”

“It’s a nice color. It’ll look good on them,” they smiled at you warmly, wrinkles forming at the corners of their green eyes. Your brain flitted from image to image of Gepard wrapped up to the nose in a yellow scarf, which almost caused you to giggle out loud.

The employee bagged up your items and bade you farewell. The ring of the shopkeeper’s bell announced your departure.

While you were exiting the store, to your surprise, you spotted two very familiar faces.

“Serval! Pela! What are you guys doing down here? Isn’t it a weekday?”

“Right on the money, (Y/N)! We were actually picking up reports from the civil service department,” Serval exclaimed. “The weather’s been awfully cold, hasn’t it?”

You hummed, traipsing over to them with your bag of yarn. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about crocheting a scarf to mail to Gepard. He could use something warm while he’s fighting on the front lines, right?”

Pela paused for a moment thoughtfully before speaking. “That’s a nice gesture. I wasn’t aware you knew how to crochet,”

You smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I’ve never tried. I checked out a book on it recently and decided I should use it for something useful,”

Serval chuckled affectionately. “He’d be so happy if he knew you had him on your mind, right Pela?”

The navy-haired girl narrowed her eyes at her. She sighed.

“I’ve actually been meaning to send a letter to the Captain myself. How about we send him a care package?” Pela suggested.

The Rockstar of Belobog gasped. “That’s a great idea! I’m sure he would love to get a package from you— ahem… us!”

“We can all write letters, and I’ll send him a few more pairs of socks,” Serval twirled a pair of keys on her finger. “They go through them like crazy out there,”

Pela nodded. “Would you allow us to drop them off at your place later?”

“Without a doubt!” You rested your hand on your hip. “Whatever works best for you guys. I know work has been tough recently,”

“It’s hard, but we’ll continue doing our best!” Pela said decisively. Serval nudged her teasingly.

“Want to come with us for lunch?” Serval inquired.

You shook your head sadly. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t— I’ve got to get started on his scarf,”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Serval nodded with a lopsided grin. “We’ll see you later!”

❆—❆—❆

When you got home, you immediately opened up your book and got to work on the floor of your bedroom.

You first practiced a few stitches with the bundle of white yarn, which turned out to be way easier than you expected. The string formed an orderly pattern which was pleasing to the eye. It was easy to get a grasp on how methodical crocheting was.

When you were about halfway through the scarf with yarn was scattered everywhere, you heard someone rapping softly at your door.

“Come in!” You raised your voice slightly.

Vaska’s familiar brown hair peeped through the crack in the doorframe.

“(Y/N), Eleanor made vegetable soup if you’re hungry,” she chirped. “It has some interesting looking radish in it this time— ooh! What’s that?”

“A scarf,” you responded neatly, turning back to your project. “Want to try? It’s a good way to unwind,”

“Sure. Sounds fun!”

Your co-worker opened the creaky door up the rest of the way and stepped into the room. She sat down next to you with her legs skewed to the side, and you handed her a needle and began enthusiastically instructing her how to get started.

“Here. Let me show you how to do a beginner’s stitch. For the most part, crocheting is pretty repetitive and easy to pin down,” you grinned at her.

You gave her half of the yarn you had bought (you had bought way too much since it was on sale), and let her make whatever her heart desired. It was like when you had started working at the flower shop, just with the roles reversed this time.

The two of you sat in silence until it started to get late, and then you got up to close the blinds. When you got back, Vaska pointed excitedly at the fabric you had started, specifically the ends of your scarf where the yellow yarn had been interwoven with white triangles to form a geometric pattern.

“Your scarf is looking great so far. I like the colors you chose,” Vaska exclaimed.

You shot her a bright smile as you sat down. “Thanks! It’s a gift for someone,”

“Oh? That’s sweet of you. And who’s this ‘someone’ you’re making it for?”

“It’s for Gepard,” you said offhandedly, hoping she didn’t notice you almost dropped your needle. “I figured he could use something to keep him warm while he’s serving,”

“Cool,” she puckered her lips distractedly and raised a blob with numerous appendages. “Check out what I made!”

You stared at it for a few seconds before you chuckled.

“That’s a wonderful olm, Vaska,” you said, amused. It looked exactly like one.

“I think I’ll put it downstairs. I’ll him Daisy,”

“Okay, just make sure to let Meg know what it is so she doesn’t throw it out by accident,”

She gave you an exaggerated gasp. “Why on Jarilo-VI would she do that?? He’ll boost morale. I’m sure of it,”

“Our boss has never exactly been one for liking creatures…” You stopped. “Oh! Would you mind if I borrowed your wax seal set?”

“Go ahead. Just don’t eat them,” she snorted. You shot her a pouty expression.

❆—❆—❆

A few hours later, you had tucked the scarf securely into a cardboard box and placed a layer of packing paper over it. Long after you were sure most of your roommates had gone to sleep, a knocking could be heard at the front door.

You gave a quick call in response before taking a batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.

You rushed over to the door and opened it, with oven mitts still on your hands.

“Hey you guys! Welcome!”

“Something smells good in here,” Serval remarked loudly. Pela shushed her with a worried look on her face.

“Ah, yep. That’s the cookies,” you explained.

Pela abandoned all subtlety and bounded over to the cooling rack. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at you wordlessly.

“I highly doubt I’ll be able to eat all of those myself,” you quipped good-naturedly. She snapped one up immediately, letting out a noise of satisfaction as she bit into the crunchy edge of the cookie and the perfectly goey inside. “Just don’t get chocolate on your letter,”

“So, this is what you’ve rounded up, huh?” Serval peered into the box on the table. “Here. I’ve got a letter from me, and one from Lynx. She set off for a research trip earlier today,”

“Sounds exciting. I hope it goes without a hitch!” You chimed in.

“I’m sure it will— ah, thanks Pela,” she turned as the smaller female tapped her on the forearm and handed her a cookie. Serval showed you the things she had brought, which were the letters, socks, and a few photographs from Lynx.

There was one of Serval, Gepard, and Lynx together, one of their entire family, one with you and Pela giggling at a cafe where you had whipped cream from a shortcake smeared across your lip.

“Wait, we aren’t seriously planning on sending this one, right??” You looked at Serval, horrified.

“We are indeed!” She took a bite of a cookie. “Mmmmm, (Y/N) these are so good! Are you planning on sending some to Gepard?”

You hesitated briefly. “Uh… no. I didn’t think that was allowed. Plus, the other soldiers might start begging him to have some or something,”

“He’s the Captain. Do you think he’d let people walk all over him?” She retorted, exasperated.

“I doubt he would want to put that much effort into protecting a container of cookies,” you said skeptically.

“YOUR cookies, maybe,” she snorted off to the side.

“What was that?” You challenged.

“Nothing. I was just mentioning he has a bit of a sweet tooth. Thinking out loud,” she closed her eyes smugly.

Pela raised her eyebrows at her friend. “Sending food via mail isn’t allowed. It’s to prevent things from spoiling,”

“Oh— fine,” Serval sighed. “Anyways, mind if I borrow a pen? I need to add something to my letter,”

You gestured to the cabinet that held the writing materials.

“…so, what’s that yellow blob on the windowsill?”Serval motioned a gloved hand over towards the olm Vaska had made.

“Oh, that? That’s Daisy,”

“Uh. Good to know,”

Pela trotted over to where the knitted creature was and picked it up by the scruff cautiously. The crocheted limbs hung limply at its sides.

“Kinda cute, right? I thought it was a bit weird at first, but it’s kind of growing on me,” you interjected.

“Urk! Y-yeah, you could say that,” The intelligence officer pressed a finger to the bridge of her glasses. “Serval and I should probably get going. We have a lot of analysis to get to tomorrow,”

“Whaaat?” Serval complained, a brand new cookie in her hand.“Come on, just a few more minutes. Say… would you happen to have any milk?”

Pela sighed.

“Ugh. Fine…. Just a few more,”

❆—❆—❆

The next day after work, you went to Manya, an administrative official, to ask when their next shipment of mail to the Outlying Snow Plains was. She was uptight as usual.

“The next mail delivery is set for today,” The mint-haired lady said stiffly. “Who do you want to address this to?”

You blinked in surprise. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’d like to address it to uhh.. Gepard Landau please?”

“The Silvermane Captain? I see. We’ll try to get this to him as soon as possible, capiche?”

Manya took the package from you and you bowed to her graciously.

I really hope he likes it…

❆—❆—❆

Meanwhile, in the freezing wastes of the Snow Plains, the young captain was working hard. He was standing in a makeshift meeting tent, pondering over a map placed over a few stray barrels.

It wasn’t often they had the luxury of furniture other than weapon racks and barbed fences, in fact, just last week Franz had gotten caught in one, and it had taken the work of three guards to get him untangled.

With a sigh, Gepard traced his armored hand over a section on the top of the map, running through plans in his mind all the while. His gaze was laser-focused on the weathered paper, anyone passing by might suspect he was trying to burn a hole in it.

“Tory, do you have a moment?” He turned his head towards an officer cleaning off their musket. They lowered it and marched toward him.

“How is progress going on the northern rampart?”

“As predicted, sir,” they answered.

“Hm. Good. We’re setting out as planned tomorrow morning if you could let everyone know it’s been finalized,”

A different Silvermane gunner turned a corner into the meeting tent and waved to get Gepard’s attention. “Cap’n! We’ve got a package for you!”

A package? What on earth is Serval sending me this time? Gepard let out a short sigh. Last time it was a glitter bomb that hit Pela by accident.

She’d spent the better part of a month shaking out the glitter from her uniform.

The Captain took the package from the officer, which wasn’t very heavy, so that was a relief. He checked it from corner to corner to make sure it hadn’t been sent to the wrong person. Yep, sure enough, it was his.

“Sir, I’ll take the night watch for tonight. Why don’t you attend to your mail?” Offered the one who had made the delivery, gesturing with her hands.

“You have my thanks, Dasha,”

The soldier gave a quick salute and picked up a rifle to take with them to the watchtower.

Gepard laid the cardboard container (which was dented on one corner) onto the slipshod table. He used his fingers to carefully pry open the flaps of the box— ready at a moments notice to cover his face in case his sister had found a new way to make lightweight bombs.

Much to his surprise, it wasn’t an explosive.

Inside the parasol was four letters, a few pairs of socks, and some photographs resting on a layer of packing paper. Normally his family waited more than half a month before mailing him something because they all had their own matters to attend to.

He raised a curious eyebrow, wondering if you had something to do with this. His suspicion was confirmed when he went through the letters and spotted your handwriting on one of them.

One from (Y/N)… One from Serval… Lynx… Pela,

Gepard pulled each of the letters out one by one, holding them up to the light he got from the dying lanterns, and set them on the supply crate table in a neat pile like the meticulous soldier he was. He rummaged around in his pockets for the Landau family letter opener he kept on him and used it to slice your envelope open first. It was held shut by a red wax seal with a gilded emblem pressed into it.

Dear Gepard,

Hope this letter finds you well. We miss you a lot! Business has been better than ever at the florists, in fact, Meg is considering me for a promotion!

I made something for you to help keep you warm while you’re on duty. They were out of blue yarn, but I hope you like it!

We’re thinking of you every day you’re gone. Stay safe and warm out there.

Sincerely, (Y/N)

He smiled gently. So it was you who had made the socks. That was very considerate of you.

Next, Gepard read through the letters the others had sent. Lynx’s was silly and made his heart feel much lighter. She was the one who had sent the photographs consisting of the Landau family, her. Pela, and you, laughing with a smudge of cream on your face. He made sure to tuck the pictures in his pocket.

Pela’s letter was professional but loaded with thinly veiled worry. Reaching for Serval’s letter next, he did his best to quell his suspicions about it, and tried to be grateful she even decided to send him something.

Hiya Geppie! It read in bold purple ink.

Is everything all right out there? I know it gets cold as all hell, so I bought a few extra pairs of socks for you. Lynx has been missing you a lot, but don’t tell her I told you that. Hope to see you again soon. Lots of love!

P.S, (Y/N) made us some awesome chocolate chip cookies. Sucks you weren’t there to try them.

Signed, Your oh so doting and loving Big Sis

Gepard snorted, followed by a smile, and tucked the letter back into the envelope. That was followed by a second of hesitation.

It wasn’t quite clicking in his brain. If Serval had sent the socks, what had you sent?

He picked up a pair of the socks just to check. Surely enough, they had the logo of a familiar Belobog department store on them, which checked out with what Serval had said. He pushed aside the layer of packing paper, and his breath died in his throat before it could become a cloud in the freezing night air.

Staring him in the face was a handmade scarf. Bright yellow, like pieces of the sun had been woven into it. White triangles accentuated the ends, and was ridiculously long, long enough to reach his knees. There was pocket on both ends of the scarf for his hands or any tchotchkes he might have.

Gepard held the scarf up to the light of the lantern. The stitchwork looked complicated and VERY time consuming. He could tell a lot of love had been poured into this gift. His face felt aglow with happiness as he imagined you all cheerfully getting together to make this for him.

He was glad everyone seemed safe and happy back at home. It made his work just a little more bearable.

Placing the box in the mail corner for safekeeping, he fastened the scarf around his neck. It was long enough to wrap around his head three times, it was warm and smelled of flowers. Truth be told, it smelled like home.

The Captain propped himself up against one of the walls, along with his guitar case, and drifted off to sleep.

❆—❆—❆

Wait… did the captain always have that yellow scarf??

Dasha snuck another glance at the sleeping Silvermane Guard Captain from her spot on the watchtower.

Gepard opted to sleep in the same spot as all the other soldiers instead of vying for his own tent— that was one of the reasons his underclassman respected him so much. He was constantly reliable, selfless, and strong. A shining beacon of hope always looking out for others.

But tonight, Dasha got to see a different side of a him.

Gepard’s nose was buried in the yellow garment as he slumbered, his chest rising and falling steadily with every breath. His brow was without a furrow, and his face was relaxed, which was definitely a sight to see.

He looked… cozy.

Dasha smiled to herself.

Well, I guess even the Captain has someone looking out for him.

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

Reblogs greatly appreciated! I love seeing your comments!

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Happy New Year, Captain. - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: The Captain of the Silvermane Guards is away for a military expedition. Although he isn’t here to celebrate the new year with the rest of Belobog, you’re determined to make sure he knows he’s loved. By both you and everyone around him.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 7k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: This is part of my florist!reader series, but can be read as a one-shot. Check the masterlist for more! If it’s broken (I swear to fuckijg god—) you can use the tag search function. Type in Mossball_Writing into the search bar.

Love you all and Happy New Year! (SHUT UP I KNOW ITS FEBRUARY I MADE THIS TWO MONTHS AGO)

MASTERLIST

Midday in Belobog was as crisp as ever.

You stood in the open-air plaza of the administrative district, leaning against the wall of the quaint little newspaper shop.

Vaska— your co-worker and friend at the Eversummer Florist’s— had her back turned to the blustery winter wind, which was only offset by the mocha-colored coat draped over her head and shoulders. Her teeth chattered like a broken phonograph, and her cheeks had been burned red by the cold. You stared at her, brow knitted worriedly.

“Hey uh… Vaska? Don’t you think it’s time we get going?”

Tilting your head at her and pulling your coat closer to your form, you gave her a sheepish smile. “We’ve been here for forty-five minutes,”

Her head shot up from where it was buried in the book grasped between her hands. The trademark green beret of the flower shop clung onto her head for dear life.

“What??” Vaska protested. “No, no, no. I’m a hair’s length from the good part! Just—,”

She resumed staring at the page again.

“—a few more pages. I swear. I can’t afford this book until next week. By the time I can get it, spoilers will be everywhere!”

You sniffled, wincing at the cold air that nipped at your nose. “If you want, I can always stuff potting soil in your ears. Free of charge, too,”

“Five more minutes,” she said, pursing her lips. “You won’t regret it,”

“Maybe I won’t, but you will,” you retorted. “Your lips are purple!”

Vaska raised a mitten in a visual effort to block your words. “I can survive a cold. What I cannot survive, however, is someone SPOILING the long-awaited sequel to Tale of the Winterlands,” Your friend tossed her head dramatically, causing strands of light brown hair to catch on her eyes and mouth. She spat them out indignantly.

You lowered your head, dragged your palms over your cheeks, and let your jaw go slack with a groan.

“Fine. You win. Just let me get my mail in the meantime, okay?”

Vaska whipped her head towards you with sparkles in her eyes. “(Y/N),” she gasped. “You’re a godsend!”

You promptly turned your heels and headed off in the direction of city hall, chuckling to yourself as you went. You remembered the way you used to bounce with excitement every time a new mining robot was delivered to your division and you got the honor of testing it out.

We all deserve to be a little giddy about our hobbies sometimes. She works as hard as I do, if not more.

You felt the corners of your lips rise into a smile as you strolled briskly next to the flower beds lining the sidewalk. Aside from a thin coating of frost, they looked bright and lively against the backdrop of the yellow brick wall.

Ah. First snow. I wonder if Gepard has had any luck resurrecting those, you pondered, bending over to peer at them. You lifted your head, only to jolt backward at the sight of familiar (and dashing) blue eyes in front of you.

“OHMYAEONS—“ you shrieked before clamping your hands over your mouth.

But a wave of disappointment soon swept over you. Those eyes you longed to see so badly were merely the centerpiece of a poster, advertising recruitment for the Silvermane Guards. Gepard’s eyes stared imposingly at the plaza behind you.

The artist did a really good job capturing his likeness. You sighed. It was almost uncanny how accurate the determination in his face was.

You rested a hand against the worn parchment, trailing it over a caption that read, ‘You are the pride of the Architects. Help defend their city! Join the Silvermane Guards Today!’, and ‘Great dental benefits!’

Of course, you knew that the reality was far less than glamorous.

Your friend, Gepard Landau, the Captain of the Silvermane Guards and a Belobogian noble, had been away on a mission for a month and a half fighting the Fragmentum. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the monsters birthed from the residue of a stellaron. They dragged their feet and uttered ghastly moans as they wandered about the abandoned sectors of your hometown. You were immediately swept into the undercurrent of anxiety as images of threats he had to face began to bubble up within your brain.

To quell the simmering fear inside you, you slapped your face lightly with your mittened hands.

He’s perfectly fine! He’s the captain, for Qlipoth’s sake. He’s probably been on the field since he was able to walk, you exhaled heavily, your worries escaping into the air in the form of a small cloud of condensation.

Doesn’t change the fact that I miss him, though,

You weren’t allowed to contact Gepard. No one was, for fear of compromising military safety. Since the Fragmentum managed to attach itself to automatons, there was a possibility that they could receive unfiltered transmissions and determine the location of the troops. The thought in itself made your skin prickle.

Shaking yourself to clear the pangs of loss from your chest, you rounded the corner to City Hall, or the Administrative Office, or as others called it.

It had an air of business about it, maybe due to the constant stream of robed officials streaming out from its doors. They all barked orders at each other— filled with unnecessarily complicated words, you might add—, and pushed up their glasses in the same way. It bored you to death. But until you could get a permanent residence on the Surface, you’d have to keep collecting your mail from this labyrinth of grumpy office workers.

But today, you could hardly see the grilled glass doors past a crowd of people. Through the rapid chatter and the collision of bodies, you heard an official’s voice you recognized,

Manya.

You raised yourself on the balls of your feet to get a better look. Her hair, the color of artificially minty ice cream was frizzy and unkempt, and her thickly framed glasses were taped together at the end piece. Her words barely made it past the clamor of the crowd.

“If you want to register for a—“ She grunted in pain sharply. “Ugh! Esteemed citizen, please stop elbowing me. If you want to sign up for a telephone time, please form a single file line to the right of the lamp post. I repeat, the right,”

Any attempt to take a step forward was futile. You immediately got jostled by a heavyset woman from the right, causing you to collide with the metal bearings of someone’s briefcase. Ouch.

Against all odds, Manya’s piercing red eyes landed on you.

“Manya—?” You raised your voice, hoping to reach her above the crowd. “What’s—,”

She pushed through the throngs of people while her robes billowed with fury. Her hand grasped your forearm, harshly enough that you thought it might bruise, and proceeded to drag you into the building, which was heated with Geomarrow lamps and the sweat of panicking managers. It looked like a scene in a thriller opera, where the vengeful protagonist tears an office apart looking for information about his father’s killer.

Manya practically shoved you into the wall of cluster box units. “Get it—,” she hissed, “—and go,”

“Yeesh,” you exclaimed, fiddling with the key to your mailbox (and nearly dropping it in the meantime). “Can I at least ask what the commotion is all about?”

She turned around from where she was stalking off, a vein on her forehead suddenly becoming more pronounced.

“I do have matters to attend to, but I suppose it’s my duty to attend to the concerns of the citizens, no matter how trivial they may be,” she replied through gritted teeth. “For the new year, Qlipoth Fort allows citizens to contact family in the Guards using their telecommunications system,”

You widened your eyes as she continued.

“Although, they haven’t quite flushed out the system yet. The one for organizing time slots. It’s like herding warp trotters,”

“Um,” you paused. “Okay, how would you sign up for a time then?”

She grimaced. “Oh, not you too. Are you actually interested in one or just curious? Because I think I might burst a blood vessel if—,”

“I am interested, I swear!” You cut in. “I know I’m usually just curious, but I wouldn’t waste your time at a time as hectic as this,”

You’d think a City Hall official would actually enjoy answering questions, you muttered inwardly.

Manya sighed heavily. “Fine. Take a ticket from the dispenser outside and wait in line. When you’re called, they have a form you can fill out to make an appointment to speak with your family member,”

And as quick as she came, Manya spun on her heels and went back to managing the crowd at the door. You collected your mail and did as she ordered. The mass of people had since gathered into a more manageable line, although it was anything but single-file. Peering at the ticket, which was printed in very light ink, you were able to discern the number you were given. 122. You squinted your eyes in order to make out the fine print and gasped.

“Expected three hours until service?!?” You choked out.

Well, in that case, I can get back to Vaska, you shrugged. On your way out, you spotted a few complimentary hand warmers stationed at the front desk, along with the latest edition of the* Crystal* Daily at the front counter.

“Actually… you wouldn’t mind if I took some of these, right?” You inquired the bleary-eyed receptionist.

He blinked tiredly in response.

“Sweet. Have a good day,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Vaska was looking a little worse for wear when you got back. It had been less than ten minutes, but she had chosen a foldable sign as cover and was squatting behind it. Her green eyes flicked upwards as she heard the plodding of your boots towards her.

“How’s the book so far?” You said, glancing around at the passerby before joining her on the ground.

“(Y/N), if I’m being honest with you,” she paused. “I am so happy I could literally die right now,”

Vaska stared at you stone-faced before her expression became giddy. She pressed the book close to her chest, squealing with glee.

“Whoa there, don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” You said, amused.

“Not in the slightest,” she swooned. “Oh Artem, I missed him so much! His fiery passion hasn’t dimmed a bit,” she stated dramatically while fanning herself with her hand (Which she immediately regretted, as it was the middle of winter).

“Oh Vaska, you’re blushing so hard you could melt a glacier,” you teased.

“Two glaciers,” she corrected you matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened as a sudden shadow fell over the two of you. Fizz, the girl who manned the desk at the newspaper shop, was standing with her hands on her hips, blotting out the sun reflecting off the snow-covered buildings.

“While I do appreciate a fellow Tales fan,” she mused. “This is beginning to get a bit concerning. If you guys aren’t going to make a purchase, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Sorry!”

Vaska’s soul seemed to leave her body that very moment.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “That’s fine! We’re sorry for overstaying our welcome. I know you have a business to run here,”

“No worries, you two! I’d give it to you, but a girl’s gotta put food on the table,” Fizz shrugged. “I’m pleased you’re interested though,”

Fizz’s cheerful demeanor did little to ease Vaska’s thousand-yard stare.

As soon as you got far enough from the newspaper stand, the onslaught of your co-worker’s crushing despair was unstoppable. She crumpled to the cobblestone-like a wad of packing paper.

You groaned as you bent over to grasp her hood, which you used as a sort of anchor point to drag her across the ground. She made a pitiful sound that resembled a mouse being stepped on.

You sighed. “Come on. Let’s go home,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

After tending to your wounded slug of a co-worker, you hopped downstairs to beat the frost off your jackets. Your eyes lit up as your phone rang in your apron with the signature ringtone you had assigned to Serval.

“Serval! What can I help a lovely lady such as yourself with today?” You greeted her while picking up the phone.

“Aw, you big sap!” Raucous laughter could be heard on the other side. The corners of your mouth rose into a smile.

“Molly and I just went on lunch break and I figured I’d give you a holler. Are you doing anything this Belobog Eve?”

Before you could say, “Solarflowers,” you had an answer.

“Yes, actually. I went to city hall today, and as it turns out, they’re doing this thing where you can call a loved one using the radios at Qlipoth Fort. All you have to do is sign up!”

“No way! They haven’t done that since things started getting bad in the Snow Plains,” Serval’s voice crackled. “I tried reaching them a few years back with a radio from the workshop, but Pela chewed me out, saying it was a ‘breach of military safety’,”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said with a snort.

“Hey, genius. I’m the main arms dealer for the Guards. I know what I’m doing,” she said, a smirk evident in her voice.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” you responded, touching your fingertips to your thumb absentmindedly. “Anyways, I signed up for a slot at ten o’clock, and I was thinking we could all go together to talk to Gepard,”

“Heck yeah! I’d really enjoy that!” Serval exclaimed. “By ‘we’, do you mean Lynx, Pela, and I?”

“You got it,” you said with a chuckle. You peered out at Qlipoth Fort through the windowpanes of the flower shop, the sunlight warming your face. “It’s alright if they can’t make it though. I know you’ve all got your plates full with all that military jargon,”

“Nonsense,” she tutted. “It’d be outrageous if they didn’t let us off for the New Year and… I’ll be honest with you, (Y/N). Sometimes us military folk are so caught up in our own business, we forget to connect with each other. It’s really nice to have you here to remind us we’re human too,”

You stifled a squeal of glee that was welling up in your throat. “Ah—“ you stuttered at the compliment. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Just glad I can help out, I guess,”

Serval snickered. “Don’t worry your little heart about it. I’ll make sure we all be there. Meet you outside Qlipoth Fort an hour before?”

“Sure. See you soon!” You chirped.

She chuckled. “Rock on, (Y/N)!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

The Belobog sky was especially mesmerizing that night, you thought.

It had a comforting simplicity you’d grown to appreciate ever since arriving on the surface. Every smattering of white against the royal blue backdrop seemed to hold your gaze as you wondered; just how old was that light reaching your eyes?

Some of the tapestries hung around the city attempted to emulate this feeling of smallness. They were woven with silk as if to imitate that same heaviness the night sky had.

Whilst you gazed at the stars, notes of soft jazz floated down from the balconies above the city where a group of street musicians were playing. You could feel the tremors of the bass beneath your feet thrumming slightly like a heartbeat, as the night ambiance blanketed you in a figurative sort of warmth.

Aeons, your neck was beginning to hurt.

“Hey— Jarilo-VI to (Y/N)—,” Serval’s voice reverberated loudly in your left ear.

A yelp of surprise sprang from your throat as you jolted away. Serval, Lynx, and Pela were standing directly in front of you, evidently enough they had been for some time.

“We were worried we’d be late because we were tuning up the instruments for a New Years show, but it seems like our worries were unwarranted,” Serval laughed, shrill and high. The lamplight glinted off of her multitude of metal accessories.

“Ack! You guys—,” you blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“You seemed very intent on keeping your eyes glued to the sky,” Pela pushed her glasses up thoughtfully, trying to hide her labored breath. She looked disheveled, as if she had run here.

Lynx sided closer to you with wide eyes. “Perhaps… you observed an anomaly?”

You chuckled. “No, nothing of the sort. I was just thinking that the star I was looking at was really bright,”

She hummed in response— the ears on her adorable fluffy hat bouncing side to side— and reached for your forearm, raising it to point at the same patch of sky you were looking at before.

“Ah, that star?” Lynx closed one eye to better align her field of view with your own. “That’s Altair. The one underneath the edge of the Tundra Star System,”

“Altair? That’s a pretty unusual name,”

“Yep. I heard it came from somewhere far away, from a small planet called Earth. They believed this particular star was waiting to reunite with another,”

You paused in thought for a moment, the silence causing the other two to tilt their heads.

What a cute little story.

Maybe these kinds of stories were easier to think up when you’d lived under the stars all your life. But even before the Underworld had closed, all you had of the sky were distant, blurry memories. These ideas struck an unfamiliar chord within you.

“Does it ever meet the other star?”

“I’m not certain,” Lynx mused. “The only other star we know of that fits the legend died a long, long time ago unfortunately,”

“Aw,” you pouted. “That’s a shame,”

Pela cleared her throat. “I hate to ruin an intellectual conversation such as this, but it’s in our best interest to get going. The line is already growing at the top of Qlipoth Fort,”

“You can see that??” You squinted. “Crud. I got you guys some gifts but those will have to wait,”

Pela nodded. “Yes, let’s hurry while we—,”

Your face split into a wide grin. “Race ya!”

You dug the soles of your shoes in and ran straight for the stairs to Qlipoth Fort. The others followed suit, a string of indignant shouts and laughter echoing into the night air.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

If being in the mines had been stifling, that was nothing compared to the crowds outside the Fort. Red-faced officials cupped their hands and yelled in an attempt to be heard over the clamor of the mob. You spotted Manya leaning against a wall, any light she once had in her eyes totally gone.

“—a line! Get into three lines! Please for the love of the Preservation—,” someone shouted.

Pela received a particularly hard bump to the shoulder, sending her hurtling directly into your rib cage with a squeak. Through the midst of the chaos, you caught a glimpse of Serval’s arm, adorned with wristbands, flailing a ways away. She pried the people in front of her apart with vigor; a grunt that sounded like a creaking glacier erupted from her mouth to the shock of the strangers closest to her.

“Hold tight you two!” She ordered. “I’m trained to deal with this— you’ve seen Luka, right?”

“And just how is that supposed to be relevant??” You barked back before a stray elbow caught you in the face. You let out a pained grunt and held your nose.

Serval’s face peeked over the crowd as she wove closer to you. “His boxing stance— do that. Arms in front of your face, legs a shoulder-width apart. It’s saved a few of my concert-goers from gettin’ crushed,”

You did as she instructed; the next time someone jostled you and Pela, you felt far less shaken up. Swiveling your head, you realized something was off.

“Hey, has anyone seen Lynx?”

You scanned the crowd for her signature blue hat but to no avail.

“Lynx? Lynx???” Pela called frantically. Out of the blue, you spotted a small figure clad in blue and purple clinging to one of the pillars supporting the overhanging roof of the fort. Lynx looked unbothered, a red rope anchored around the pillar and her feet planted firmly into the side in a classic climber’s stance.

Well, that’s one way to get around it, you shook your head vigorously. The hair on your neck stood up as the speakers belonging to the fort’s PA system crackled to life.

“Attention, Belobog citizens,” a male voice announced. “We’re aware that it has been a few years since the Fort has been able to do this, but please refrain from physically assaulting each other… And to the climber on the right-hand side of the building, that was clever, but this is not the Snow Plains,”

A good-humored chuckle rippled through the crowd. Finally, officials were able to sort attendees into lines depending on what time their call was. You were able to take a long, relaxing breath and bask in the warmth of the heaters surrounding the building, your chest rising and falling as you rested the back of your head against the wall. Serval hummed contentedly beside you as Pela combed through her book.

Blinking your eyes open, your hands darted for your leather messenger bag.

“Oh! About those gifts I got you guys… here!” You tossed the items one by one to your companions. “Glasses straps for Pela… a multi-tool for Serval… and fish pot warmers for Lynx!”

Serval’s eyes sparkled as she fiddled with out the multi-tool, and then proceeded to fill with tears of laughter as you wrapped a scarf around Lynx’s head so that only her eyes were showing, and she waved her quilted fish hands around like some sort of pot warmer ninja. The deadpan expression on her face made the whole ordeal even funnier.

“You know…” you spoke up. “We oughta meet up for holidays more often,”

“Too right!” Serval nodded with a bright smile. You honestly thought you could wait there forever with them, laughing and talking like this.

However, you would find that possibility was closer than it seemed.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Hey uh— Pela, do you have a watch?” You asked after some time had passed.

“Yes, why?” She replied.

“I just think it’s been a little longer than an hour,” you said offhandedly, flicking your gaze to the side.

Maybe you were just impatient. From your fast-paced life in the mines, of course. (Not because your heart was swelling with more anticipation than it could handle.)

“Erm…” she peered closely at her gilded watch. “No, you’re right, (Y/N). It’s been an hour and 45 minutes,”

You let out a withering sigh as Lynx piped up.

“Maybe there’s a holdup? There’s a lot of people, after all. If one person goes a minute over, the entire schedule gets pushed back a minute,”

“Yeah… that sounds about right, I guess,” you shrugged. Waiting a little more wouldn’t hurt, you supposed.

That is until another 45 minutes passed with you four waiting in the cold.

“Aeons, I am SO. HUNGRY.” Serval pounded her fist lightly on the wall. “What in the Snow Plains is going on in there??”

“Didn’t you get something to eat before you came here?” Pela quipped.

“Yes, but waiting makes me pretty damn hungry,” she groaned. Her stomach growled in agreement.

Lynx looked up at her sister from where she was sitting by a fire hastily scraped together. She outstretched her arm, a tin of sardines in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks, Lynxy,” Serval said wistfully. Her eyes shot open as the large mahogany door to the fort creaked open. An aide accompanied by two guards stepped out into the turmoil.

“Attention, Citizens of Belobog,” she droned. “I know you may be confused as to why this is taking so long. Well… we’ve received reports that the line connecting our radios to the Silvermane camp has been taken out by the high winds. We’re not sure if it will be able to be repaired tonight, but, you are welcome to stay if you are able,”

And with that announcement, the aide whisked inside, her robes trailing behind her as the crowd began to clamor in anger.

“You have got to be kidding,” Serval hissed. Pela nodded, her eye twitching with irritation. “If— if they had trusted me with the handling of the tech division—,”

You stopped listening as your hands fell to your sides in exasperation. But out of the corner of your eye, through the blurry silhouettes of people fettering away for the night— you caught a small but unmistakable glimpse of sadness on Lynx’s face.

Her face was downturned, her nose, scrunched up. You remember making that face in Natasha’s clinic as you did your best not to break down in front of her.

Placing a hand on Serval’s shoulder as waves of anger rolled off her, you spoke up.

“We’re staying,”

“Stay—? I can’t believe they just blew everyone off like that!” Serval snorted, followed by a sigh. “Why don’t we go to the workshop and break out one of my old radios?”

Pela shook her head frantically, curtains of her indigo hair flying everywhere. “We should definitely not do that. The logistics that that would succeed are very, very, low. Also—,”

“Not everyone is leaving,” you commented. You swiveled your head around. At least fifty of the original 120+ people remained. (Belobogians couldn’t be deterred that easily, you supposed.)

You glanced down at Lynx out of the corner of your eye. “If there’s even the off chance that they can get them working again, I want to try. I’ll even run to the florists to make us some sandwiches!”

Serval paused, seeming to think this was adequate.

“Hmph… You know I can’t pass up a good sandwich,” she put her hands on her hips with a smile. “And, you’re right. Maybe we’ll have a better chance of getting in touch with him if we stay,”

“That’s right,” You smiled. “Now, I’ll go take the trolley real quick. Call me if they fix them!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

A few of the amenities you brought back included: a large wool blanket, a picnic basket with sandwiches and cookies, and the hand warmers you had grabbed earlier, which were especially for when the queue moved away from the heaters.

Serval was right. Waiting did make you hungry. You licked your lips contentedly after fishing a chilled veggie salad wrap. With your belly full and your body finally warm for the first time that night, you nearly drifted off to sleep until the doors flung open once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ve gotten permission to fire communications up again. Thank you for being patient,” the same lady from earlier announced. “Please come this way and form a single-file line,”

Your head whipped around in confusion from the sudden turn of events.

“What happened? Just how long was I out?” You inquired Lynx.

“Approximately seven minutes,” she stated. “It’s around 23:50 right now,” The golden-haired girl turned away from you and darted into the building, along with Serval.

Things are finally coming along, you smiled to yourself.

In contrast to the curt PSA earlier, the inside of the Fort was well-rounded with good customer service. It ran like a freshly oiled automaton, with workers directing attendees to different booths, each with a trained operator. The room was filled with chatter echoing off the tiled floor and the sounds of dial tones coming from the radios, which were large blocks of metal with a handheld receiver attached by a wire.

The operator at your booth handed you the radio first, much to your surprise. The other line picked up with a slight buzz of static. Your heart began to race.

“Who would you like to speak to?” The voice on the other end crackled.

“Ah— Gepard Landau, please. Is he available?” You said, with a little less confidence than you’d have liked.

“The Captain? I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have the security clearance for that—,”

Serval vaulted across the table in the booth and grabbed the phone.

“Tory? Tory is that you?? We need to speak to Gepard,”

Pause.

“Like, right this instant. Could you go get him? Thanks. No— if anyone asks tell them I told you to do it. Now go get him!”

She smiled self-satisfactorily, sat down, and tossed the receiver to you while kicking her legs up. You swore you saw a bead of sweat roll down the operator’s face as you fumbled with the device— it was only saved by your pinkie miraculously hooking on the wire.

You tilted your body closer to Lynx and Pela as you listened to the sounds of idle chatter on the other end.

“[—for me?]”

You knew that voice. Your heart leaped as you held the receiver closer to your face.

“[Ahem— Hello?]”

“Why— yes. Um— h-hello!” You blurted out, caught off guard. You craned your head away from the radio with a start towards the jittery-looking operator. “Is there any way to turn this thing up?” You hissed.

“Yes, but please take care not to be too loud,” He rotated a dial at the top of the radio as your group sided closer together.

“[(Y/N)? Is that you?]” You caught a note of surprise in Gepard’s voice, which also had an edge of roughness to it as if he had been shouting orders earlier that day.

“Yep. Not just me though. We got Serval, Pela, and Lynx here too!” You smiled, making eye contact with the others. “Say ‘hi’ everyone!”

A chorus of greetings rang out, the words “big brother” and “Captain Gepard” sneaking into the mix.

“Geppie! So happy to hear from you,” Serval’s blue eyes sparkled as she chimed in. “How’s it holding up out there?”

“Ah, hello, Serval. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,”

Gepard wasted no time getting her up to date, just like a military briefing. You stood by, perplexed.

“We’re working hard to clear up the remaining Fragmentum. The weather has been on the unpredictable side, and it’s caused some of the tech to freeze over, but it’s nothing the Guards can’t handle. At the rate we’re going, we might finish early,”

You let out a small cheer.

He continued. “I hope you and Pela aren’t too swamped before the new year,”

“Hardly,” said Pela, who was pushing up her glasses. “Lady Bronya has done a wonderful job of managing the workload in the intelligence division,”

“That’s no small relief. How about you, Lynx? You’re not doing anything risky in the Snow Plains, are you?”

The golden-haired girl’s shoulders dropped petulantly. “Yes, brother. Our team is doing quite adequately, and it will continue that way as long as I am leading it. Don’t worry about me,”

Her cheeks began to puff up. You smiled. No one had ever worried about you like that before. (Although now that you had Vaska, all the worrying was done for you.)

Lynx handed the phone to Pela first, who cycled through her greetings in a somewhat robotic manner. Next came Serval, whom the operator had to tell to quiet down more than four times. It seemed that their banter never ceased even when they hadn’t seen each other for a whole month. Maybe she was taking this time to catch up, you thought to yourself. She nearly shouted goodbye at him by the time Pela had the sense to drag her away from the table.

You reached for the handheld radio next, confused at where to place your fingers because it was nothing like a traditional phone—

“[Ahem. Ahem— is this thing working? Captain, can you hear me?],” A pause. “[It’s Bronya,]”

Pela’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. You held the phone in your outstretched hand awkwardly as you eyes the others to see if they’d tell you what to do.

“[Lady Bronya, it’s a pleasure. I hope all is well in Belobog?]” Gepard inquired.

Bronya held steadfast conviction in her voice that struck you to your core.

“[As well is it could be, Captain, much due to your unyielding diligence in the Snow Plains,]”

You heard him exhale through his nose slightly. “[I’m not sure I deserve a compliment so grand, but I appreciate it nonetheless, Lady Bronya,]”

You stood rooted to the ground as you heard them hurl very formal-sounding compliments back and forth like snowballs. It was like a soap opera.

“[Ah, and don’t let me forget. (Y/N), thank you for your routine delivery of flowers to Qlipoth Fort. It really does boost morale,]” Bronya said.

Your heart swelled with pride. “It’s no matter at all, Lady Bronya,”

Something compelled you to bow to no one in particular. When you raised your head, more than one person had a raised eyebrow at your spectacle. Serval picked up on your sheepishness and leaned in close, her breath tickling your ear.

“I may have clued her in a bit,” she whispered to you. You covered your mouth with a devious smile.

“[Now, I’ll have to let you go now. There are a few last-minute orders I have to take care of. I wish you all a Happy New Year,]”

“You too, Lady Bronya!” Everyone cheered.

What an honor it was for the Supreme Guardian to grace you with her voice— you swooned. Oh dear. Is this how all Surface-dwellers felt?

It must be contagious, you thought as you wiped your forehead nervously.

“A-anyways, Lynx, how about you take the phone now?”

“Me—? Oh,” she seemed startled.

She picked it up gingerly. “Hi, big brother,”

Something about the way her voice sounded made you take a small step away from the table.

“[You sound healthy, Lynx,]” the Captain said with a softness to his voice you weren’t familiar with. “[Is everything all right there? How is father?]”

Lynx seemed to cradle the radio in the crook of her neck like a penguin would its chick.

“Yes, everything is fine, I— uhh— sorry,”

She paused for a moment, seeming to have lost the words she wanted to say. His voice filled the silence she left.

“[I hope you all know I do miss you, and I’m happy you decided to call,]”

Lynx’s eyes were locked on the table and you could see her feelings churning inside of her. You reached towards the radio slowly, turning down the dial that controlled the volume, and motioned to the others to take a few steps away.

Whatever Lynx wanted to say was her business and her business alone. You could wait a bit.

For a few minutes, she whispered into the phone, her eyes still downcast. When she called you all back over, her cheeks were tinted light pink and it was almost as if a large weight had been taken off of her shoulders.

The orange-haired operator interrupted your moment of bliss. “That was a nice gesture… but please don’t touch the radios,” he pleaded with you.

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. Oops.

You grinned sheepishly, turning back to the radio as the others gathered around you once more.

“So… Gepard,”

The sound of clanking metal reached your ear as you looked off to the side. You could almost imagine him leaning in with that trademark intent expression on his face.

“I’m happy we were able to reach you today,” you spoke, a smile creeping into your voice.

“We really, really miss you. It’s because of you that we’re able to gather here today safe and sound,”

How badly you wished you could see him right now.

“We wanted to wish you a happy new year, so—,”

You cut off for a moment to build up anticipation. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you dipped your head down with laser focus and mouthed a countdown to them.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year—,”

“Gepard!”

“Geppie!”

“Captain!”

“Elder brother!”

The other families at the other booths looked at you quizzically as a wave of silence swept over the high-ceilinged room.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Anyways, we’re almost out of time! Keep fighting hard out there, okay?”

“[Thank you. May the new year bring us prosperity,]” he said with steadfast resolve.

You smiled a soft smile, one filled with so much longing that you could no longer put into words.

“It will, I’m sure of it,”

“[Wait, (Y/N), listen closely. They’re firing the cannons,]”

They’re what?

Your next breath never made it past your throat. The faraway boom of three cannons firing reached your ears, followed by the raucous cheers of soldiers.

“[Happy New Year,]”

And with that, the dial on the side of the radio rang, signaling that your time was up.

You glanced at the group around you in the silence that followed. Lynx’s eyelashes were slightly wet.

“Well, I guess we should get going then,” you sighed.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Seval pouted, crossing her arms. “We’ll have to make up for it later when he comes back,”

Lynx and Pela nodded, gathering their belongings and pushing open the door to the chilly night air of Belobog.

You trailed behind the others as you exited the building, glancing up at the sky one last time. It wasn’t often you were out long enough for the lights of the city to finally dim and give you a splendid view of the nighttime theatre.

The others turned around, hearing you gasp out loud. A streak of light filled your vision, passing right next to the bright star you were looking at earlier. Than another. And another.

“Guys— look, it’s a star shower!” You pointed excitedly at the sky and spun around quickly; which in turn, caused your messenger bag to hit Pela in the face.

“Now that’s a stellar lookin’ sky if I’ve ever seen one,” Serval raised her hand above her eyes and laughed as you apologized profusely to Pela.

Now, you wondered, was Gepard seeing this too? It was the same sky, after all.

Lynx bounded up to you excitedly and with a slight smile, asked,

“Do you have a wish?”

A wish?

“I think…” you rested a hand on your chin thoughtfully.

“My wish? I want all of us to be safe and happy… For many, many years to come,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus scene:

As you all went your separate ways, you noticed the light at the newspaper stand was still on.

You moseyed your way over there and rapped on the shutters with a fist.

“Hello? Is anyone still there?”

A shuffle and a groan was heard. Fizz, the bookkeeper, rose from behind a pile of boxes rubbing her eyes roughly.

“Oh! Aeons—,” you couldn’t stop yourself from exclaiming. “Are you okay??”

“Urgh…” Fizz stumbled over to the counter and checked her watch. “I must have fallen asleep while reading. I should have closed up four hours ago!” She groaned again. “What can I help you with?”

You stammered for a second. “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to ask, but do you have any of the sequel to Tale of the Winterlands?”

“Ah, I’m afraid we don’t. I can check when the next shipment is coming in though,” she replied helpfully. Fizz pushed aside a sheaf of papers. “Oh?”

You peered over the counter inquisitively.

“It looks like we do have one,” she said, matter-of-factly, turning back to you. “You want it?”

“Yes, please!” You bounced on your heels.

“That’ll be 2,500 credits. Would you like a bag?” She bent over to grab a notepad for your receipt.

You nodded. Fizz handed the book to you, taking less than a minute to prepare a card and tissue paper. She obviously had a lot of experience under her belt.

She handed the brown paper bag to you and you took off towards the hills.

“Thanks!” You shouted back at her. “Happy New Year!”

“You too,” Fizz said as she watched you sprint like a soldier coming home.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Quiet as a mouse, you discarded your boots after entering the florist’s and started towards the back, not bothering to turn the lights on. Everyone was likely already asleep— the shop was all closed up for the night and the plants were bathed in comforting blue moonlight.

You climbed the small spiral staircase to the second floor where everyone slept, wincing as the floorboards creaked. You could spy a small sliver of light emanating from the bedroom you and Vaska shared.

Tapping the door lightly with your fingertips, you opened it. Vaska was in the midst of getting up to answer the door; she had a small candle in her hands and her favorite book lay on the hardwood floor. You didn’t even have to look at the cover to recognize the trademark dog-eared pages and dirt stains.

“(Y/N)!” She whispered. “Where on Jarilo-VI were you??”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, as I’ve had quite the eventful night,” you chuckled. “On the other hand, I got you something!”

You hoisted out the brown paper bag decorated with simple printed patterns to her. She took it from you and peeked inside.

A glass jar of popping candy and a book lay at the bottom of the bag. You watched in real time as she forgot how to breathe.

Vaska pulled the book out with one hand. Glanced at you. Glanced at the book again. She made a sound resembling a whistling kettle and flung herself at you with the force of a soldier, wrapping her arms around you.

“Shh—! Vaska, it’s like, one in the morning. If the boss hears you, you’ll be DEAD,”

You shot a warning glance towards the door. Thankfully, no sound was heart at the end of the hallway, where Meg’s quarters were.

She sniffled, her grip as tight as iron. “I’ll die happy then,”

You sighed. You patted the back of her head in the crook of your arm. How lucky you were to have a friend like her.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

A Visit to the Landau Estate - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: You get a surprise call from Gepard asking you to look at the flowers he’s been growing.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff

▸ Word Count: 3.9k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Reader is short + slightly fem coded (I’m trying to get better at this), food mention, established (platonic) relationship but reader is experiencing some inner turmoil about their feelings for Gepard,

A/N: I was attempting to make this a one-shot, but it’s really better if you read the first part of Bamboo for a Bashful Captain. This is part of that series. I don’t think I’ll be doing the one-shot thing again because it’s a pain to do exposition every time LMAO.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

You could never tire of the smell of Solarflowers and Ball Peonies in the mornings. 

Being able to enjoy the fresh, earthy scents of plants every day, that was one of the perks of being a florist. You felt quite lucky to have a job with such incredible benefits. 

With warm sunlight pouring through the windows every day and free tea during your lunch breaks, your job was practically everything a Surface-dweller could ask for. 

But you weren’t a Surface-dweller. Having grown up in the rough-and-tumble climate of the Underworld caused workdays to fall into an occasional monotony. 

You weren’t sure if it was because taking care of flowers was so different compared to your past job of mining in the fissures, (There were no Geomarrow vein scrambles or… collapsing tunnels), or if it was how the people on the surface didn’t seem to enjoy any REAL forms of entertainment. 

If an activity was dangerous in the slightest, like your all-time favorite activity, weekly robot fighting, it was automatically frowned upon by EVERYONE. The only hobbies people partook in here were drinking tea and reading. And arguing. Lots of arguing. 

Initially, you had a hard time adjusting due to just how different etiquette in the city was. The people on the Surface seemed just so finicky and tough to talk to. 

They also rarely fixed their own things. That puzzled you, since knowing how to repair machines was a way of life where you came from. (APPARENTLY if a vending machine wasn’t working, you weren’t supposed to take it apart in the middle of the street with the multi-tool you bought at an auction. For the low price of 25 shield, you might add.) 

As time went on, you gradually realized the city was all about safety, hence why they placed such an emphasis on their military force, the Silvermane Guards. Looking back on it, it was obvious. The patron Aeon of the city was Qlipoth, Aeon of Preservation.

You came to the conclusion that life in the Administrative district was too different to struggle against. 

Constant peace in your everyday life was different, but not inherently bad! Eventually you figured out your own ways of experiencing excitement outside of your job, so you could stay energized and working at your full potential. You owed your boss as much for allowing you the opportunity to live on the Surface.

Between listening to the Silvermane Guard Captain, Gepard, talk about his military endeavors, and popping into his sister Serval’s workshop to check out her latest inventions, you gradually found the perfect friend group to spend time with!

Although you hadn’t been expecting to become friends with such renowned people. Everyone knew of Gepard and Serval, talented individuals belonging to the noble Landau family. And you were some random vagrant from the mines. It had come as a surprise but you were grateful they made sure to make room in their lives for you. 

You didn’t expect them to be so interested in YOUR job either. Just as you were fascinated by the duties they performed, they enjoyed listening to you ramble on and on about plants.

Slowly but surely, you helped integrate flowers into their lives. You took pride in your ability to bring color to the workplaces of your friends, and absolutely adored being able to give them pieces of advice along the way.

Gepard in particular was very serious about this hobby, which surprised you. You had first met the stoic captain when he came into the Eversummer Florist to browse your selection of pots one day. 

He had been attempting to grow flowers for some time but was having trouble, and obviously as a connoisseur of plants, it was your job to help him out! 

You were proud of the progress he was making. Gepard was more meticulous than you thought. He wanted to make sure, without a doubt, that he was working to his full potential.

You hadn’t been counting on him calling you at the start of a workday asking for a full-blown inspection though. 

“(Y/N), have you seen the garden wire?” Your co-worker Vaska’s head popped up over the counter from where she had been sitting on the floor. 

You looked at the plant you were pruning and pondered for another second before answering.

“I think Eleanor put it in the upstairs closet earlier.” You replied, turning your head in the direction of the ladder in the corner. “What do you need garden wire for?”

“Meg wants me to tidy up the vines on the wall before the customers come in today. They’ve gotten a little overgrown. Mind if I borrow the pliers after you?”

“Be my guest.” You set them down on the table and pulled out your phone to check the time. Your wallpaper was set to a photo of you and Gepard in front of the Everwinter Monument after you went on your first tour of the city. 

A soft smile crossed your lips. You definitely weren’t checking the time just to look at your happy expressions. (Well. Your happy expression. Gepard’s eyebrows were always furrowed in a worried/determined way. It was a little bit endearing.)

A little red bubble popped up in the corner of the screen, signifying a new message.

“Hey, Pascal, read my unread messages please,” you ordered the voice assistant on your phone, which would save you some effort so you could work and listen at the same time. 

A monotonous male voice began to drawl out the contents of the message. 

“You have (3) new messages from Gepard L—,”

You didn’t even spare it another second to speak as you vaulted over the counter and slammed your hand on top of it. Attempting to turn down the volume, you wrangled it like an aggressive animal into your apron.

“Shh!! SHUT UP, SHUT UP. SHUT. UP.” You hissed at it. 

It would be less than ideal if your co-workers found out about your friendship with some of the highest standing people in Belobog. You would be swarmed.

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you whipped around  (in)conspicuously to make sure no one had noticed your little outburst. 

Fairly enough, someone had. The new recruit, Eleanor, was staring at you from an open doorway with a flowerpot in hand. 

You stood frozen in the center of the room. 

“Heya there Eleanor,” you trailed off. 

“…have you seen the garden wire anywhere?”

She shook her head and slowly pulled the door shut, her eyes as wide as saucers. 

Well. That’s that I guess,

You pressed your hand against your face disapprovingly. Way to freak out the new kid,

You went back to sweeping up the rest of the fallen leaves into a dustpan, then went to deposit them into the compost bin outside the building. 

Deciding to sneak a quick look at your messages, you rested your back against the weathered brick wall with a sigh of relief.

From: Gepard Landau 

Gepard: Good morning, (Y/N). I apologize for bothering you this early. 

Gepard: I feel like I’ve been making decent progress with my plants. I with was wondering if you could come over and inspect them?

Gepard: I believe only someone of your caliber could ensure I am doing things correctly. If you feel comfortable with it, that is.

You decided to send a quick one back. 

You: sure! Sounds great. 

You: want me to head over once I’m done with work? 

Gepard: That would be suitable. Thank you.

Gepard: My sincerest wishes for work to go well for you today.

You: you too :)

Shoot. Was the smiley face too childish? Whatever,

You smacked yourself in the head and went back inside.

Ah, I’m blessed to be able to spend time with so many good friends! You hummed to yourself while dusting off the windowsills. It’s because of them that I haven’t gone stir-crazy yet,

You began to reminisce about the times you’ve spent together. Rosy images flickered through your brain. 

Molly adjusting gears while Serval laughed maniacally at the electricity crackling in the air and making her hair stand on end,

Gepard exhaling in exasperation as he watched his sister blow something up for the hundredth time,

Touring the History and Culture museum with Pela, who had to dodge multiple trains of children running through the halls,

Gepard pulling you out of the freezing fountain and pressing you against his chest… his very firm and warm chest… wait why am I thinking about that??

You bit your tongue. 

“…although, seeing you does improve my day greatly…”

Huh? Who said that again?? You couldn’t recall.

(That was a lie.)

You rolled your eyes at yourself and squashed some foreign feeling as soon as it emerged. 

You rolled your sleeves up.

Now, it’s time to get through this workday without a hitch!

— — — 

“Meg! I’m heading out now!” You called to your boss, slinging your bag over your shoulder. During your lunch break, you had filled it with a few spare tools and a gardener’s manual.

“Alright. Great work today, (Y/N)!” She replied with a hand on her hip. You darted out the door and hitched a ride from a streetcar. Soon, you found yourself at the entrance to the Gepard’s residence, the Landau Estate. 

The mansion in front of you was definitely suited for one of Belobog’s important noble families. It didn’t get any less intimidating the more you visited it for your deliveries of fertilizer either.

You raised a tentative hand to clasp at the ancient brass knocker. As soon your pinkie brushed the handle though, you withdrew it with a sharp inhale. 

I don’t have a package with me this time. It feels like I’m inviting myself in…

A few of the workers milling about in your blind spot exchanged confused glances. 

ARGH. This is silly. I’ve been here plenty of times before. Just knock like you usually do, (Y/N),

You reached for the knocker again, but it was pulled out of your reach as the heavy door swung open. 

“Greetings!” Said a pudgy housekeeper. “The young master informed us someone was visiting today. Please come right this way,” 

He motioned you into the hallway and into the foyer. You thought the outside of the house was grand from your previous visits, but the inside was the real deal. The house had all the staples of Belobog architecture, just with extra detail and taller ceilings. Much taller ceilings. You admired the crown molding in particular, which looked quite expensive.

The housekeeper led you to a wooden table with a delicate ceramic tea set on top. He graciously pulled out a chair for you, bowed, and poured you a cup. You tried your best to bow back at him to show some form of thanks, but it felt too stiff for you.

As you were drinking your tea (which you loaded with sugar cubes as soon as you were left alone) a painting on the wall caught your attention. 

The picture frame was coated in delicate gold leaf. Seven figures were depicted in this painting, some sitting, some standing. A familiar set of piercing blue eyes stared back at you, that of which belonged to the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Gepard was standing in formal clothing with his hand on the shoulder of a small female. She had unruly hair that looked like it had taken a lot of work to pin down. Another man stood next to him, one that bore a striking similarity to Gepard, but the lines on his face were much more rigid. You figured that must be his father. Serval was nowhere to be seen. 

Downing the last of your drink and getting up for a closer look, you realized this painting had to have been made fairly recently. Gepard had on almost the same amount of medals he wore now. 

You wondered why they didn’t just take a photo instead. It was probably a status thing. 

Your gaze flitted further to the left and you spotted more paintings, along with numerous tapestries and certificates. These other works of art had the same format as the first one. That being, well-to-do family in the center of the picture with their backs as stiff as boards.

In the next one you looked at, Gepard was wearing the uniform of a Silvermane Guard cadet. He was also a few inches shorter than his “father”. Serval was standing to the right of Gepard, in between him and the unfamiliar man, wearing a scholars’ uniform. You had never seen her in a symmetrical outfit before. 

You felt pressure build up in your lungs from holding your breath for fear of disturbing the paintings. You hadn’t even noticed how every gesture you made was twice as careful than usual. Aeons forbid you took a wrong step and caused millions of Shield in damages. 

With an expression of curiosity, you took another step towards the left. And another. Your eyes widened as you spotted a young Gepard, obviously in his teen years. He was much shorter than Serval in this one. You could imagine her tousling his hair playfully as he huffed in embarrassment.

Your gaze finally ran across Gepard as a child, wearing a dark coat with coattails and shin length socks. Serval had a single ribbon tied in her hair and her cheeks were puffed out like she REALLY didn’t want to be there. 

Snickering to yourself, you were glad the painter left that detail in. It livened the scene up a bit. If the Landau family was anything like the nobles you had encountered, there was a pretty good chance she ended up getting scolded for pulling something like that. 

You heard the familiar sound of Gepard’s voice coming from a side hallway and rushed back to your seat to stare intently at the teapot, like you hadn’t been just observing their personal family heirlooms. 

“You’re here, (Y/N). Is the tea to your taste?” 

Gepard entered the room with a soldier walking two steps behind him. How odd it must be to have someone trailing after you like that! You kept that thought to yourself though. 

“It was great, thanks! Was work alright—?”

Oops. You made that sound too familiar in front of his subordinate. 

“It’s… not without its ups and downs,” he said, dismissing the soldier with a nod. “The commander is planning on sending me back into the fifth district in a month in order to clear up some of the remaining Fragmentum. It’s one of the first in a series of expeditions,”

“Oh… wow,” you murmured with wide eyes. 

“Pela is running herself ragged about it though. No one has been able to convince her to get some sleep. I’m afraid she’s going to self-destruct one of these days,” 

Gepard shook his head as you walked down the hallway and turned right into a corridor leading to a stairwell. “I understand that she’s worried about the risk, but Serval had to double-check the wiring of the Automatons we’re preparing six times already,” 

“Is this type of mission riskier than usual?” 

“It’s the first time in a few years we’re going back out to recapture territory. Before the Trailblazers came, we had been forced on the defensive for a while. So, perhaps,” 

You furrowed your brow. “Hmm, I see. I’m guessing everyone at your workplace has been busy as well,”

He nodded, unlocking a door in the hallway at the top of the stairs. You piped up, “Do you think she’d appreciate if I dropped by with a basket of snacks?” 

“Ah… She’ll either be overjoyed, or she’ll tear you to pieces in a fit of hysteria…” 

You grimaced. “I better deliver it then. She’s overworked as is, I don’t wanna take more of her time away by visiting her,”

Sighing, you looked back up at him. “I hope it gets better soon,”

“The thought is appreciated,” the Captain nodded gently. “Anyways, thank you for coming on such short notice,” He held the door open for you and ushered you inside the room. 

“It’s no big deal. Why would I have this job if helping people bothered me?” You chortled. You scanned the medium-sized room, which had bookshelves adorning every wall, an upholstered chair with a lamp next to it, and a large oval rug with gold trimmings on the floor. “Whoa. Is this your office?” 

“It used to be my father’s, but yes,” He responded. The medals on his uniform clinked as he bent down to pick up a potted plant and place it on his desk. “This study contains almost everything you could possibly learn about Belobog,”

You gave a cheerful “Ooh, neat,” before helping him bring the various plants scattered around the room to the desk. 

“Geez, Gepard. I didn’t expect you to have so many!” You gasped. It wasn’t anything close to the amount you yourself had, but it was surprising for someone who had been struggling with growing plants a few months back. 

Within the miscellaneous plants, a certain familiar bamboo plant sat on the edge of the counter, along with a pot of Rainbows and First Snow. As you spread out your tools, you got into the flow of things again. You were here to do your job, and you were going to do it well!

You put on your gloves and began the inspection. Poking a finger into the first pot of flowers, you let out a hum of approval. “This one is doing well! I can tell you’ve been watering it sufficiently,”

You turned to the pot of First Snow next. You did notice a few of the leaves had a yellow tinge to them. This was relatively normal for a beginner when it came to growing plants. 

“…this one could use a bit more sun,” you observed. “And the Solarflowers need less water. There’s a little bit of mold on the surface of the soil,”

“Um… oh, is there?” He craned his neck. “I had assumed it was dust. Will it do any harm to them?”

“Not necessarily, but we should keep an eye on it. You can either scrape off the contaminated soil and add something to control the mold—,” you waved your gloved hand in the air, “—or repot it entirely. It’s up to you,” 

Gepard rested his hand on his chin. “Understood. I’ll do better to monitor them from now on,” 

You always enjoyed how good of a listener he was. Little did you know, he took every word you said to heart, all of the time. 

Gepard looked onward at your focused expression towards the plants. It amused him how attentive you were, jotting down every possible detail in your notepad and always going the extra mile to help people out.

When you glanced back at him, he had a small smile on his lips. You choked on your spit and immediately began coughing. 

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes. Also,” you continued as you sputtered between coughs, “don’t add too—,”

Another fit of hacking. 

 “—much of any m-mold (cough) control. Sometimes they can contain chemicals that are just a bit too strong when used in large amounts,” 

“That makes sense… Would— would you like me to get you a glass of water?”

You shook your head. 

He sighed. “As you wish. On the other hand, how much should I add to a pot this large?”

Wiping your cheek, you replied, “Maybe… 10 grams maximum. Less if it sits in the sunlight, because it’ll just sit on the surface and form a crust,”

“You have my deepest gratitude for informing me,” He placed his hand on his heart with a serious expression. “It surprises me every day that there’s such nuance to caring for plants that I was not aware of,” 

You rolled your tools back up into your bag. “Once again, it takes lotsa practice! There’s also a lot of books about it at the local library, if you’re ever struck with the urge to learn,” 

Well, you had a feeling he would be. The young captain never did anything halfheartedly.

Gepard’s eyes widened as he recalled something. He walked across the rug over to one of the bookshelves and pulled out a manual with a torn navy blue cover. The pages were yellow with age and the gold ink that spelled out the title was nearly faded.

“I spotted this one while looking for some books on history the other day. Will this be sufficient?”

Gepard passed you the book gingerly. You drew it closer to your face but inhaled a lungful of dust and nearly sneezed. The book was quite unusual, on the spine was a picture of a short-stemmed flower, the likes of which you had never seen in your life. Opening up the front cover, you gasped in surprise and held it out at arms length. 

On the bottom of the title page, in faded ink, had a sentence that read;

“Copyright 4096, all rights reserved,”

You lifted your head slowly to look at him. 

“Gepard…” You began with a bewildered expression on your face. 

“This is from 700 years ago.”

Even the stone-faced captain couldn’t hide his surprise. He took a step closer to examine it with you. 

“Is it really? I had no idea our family was in possession of such an antique,”

You flipped through the pages. “Uh huh. Who knows? Maybe one of your ancestors had the same interest in growing flowers way back when!”

You stopped at a particular page and turned the book towards him to so he could see it better. 

“Wow. Gepard,” you said, pointing to a certain picture. “Look at this! ‘Opalescent lily’, it’s called. This species went extinct a long time ago. Isn’t this incredible?!”

You closed it softly and handed it back to him. “Well, that was fascinating, but you’ll need something a bit more up to date,” 

You popped open the clasp on your bag and began to dig around. Your fingers landed on the floriography manual that Vaska had gifted you when you first got the job. “You can use this one!” 

Gepard blinked at you in surprise. “Don’t you need this?” 

“Nope. Committed all the information to memory,” You tapped your head with your index finger confidently. “I just carry it around so I can explain things to clients easier. It’ll hold you over until you find something better!”

The captain flipped open the book and happened to land on the page about Summershade Bamboo. Your handwriting filled the margins of the page from top to bottom.

“Use it for as long as you like,” you smiled at him. “All of the plants you have should be in there. And once again, you’re free to text me if you need!”

“Wow… thank you, (Y/N),” Gepard said. “I hope you know how much this means to me. It makes all the difference in the world to have someone here to guide me,”

Your grip on your bag tightened as your breath quickened unexpectedly. “Yep, yep! That should be all. Thank you for trusting me with your plants!” 

“I wouldn’t go to anyone else,” 

Gepard walked you back downstairs and to the doorway. On your way there, you heard some maids whispering under their breath as you went by. Something about how Gepard should’ve hired a professional to check out his plants instead.

Gods, you hated these people and their stupid whispering. 

“Will you allow me to accompany you back home?” The Captain interrupted you out of your thoughts. 

Allow? ALLOW?? Like— he wants to walk me home??

Your brain went into overdrive.

“O-oh? No, no. That’s too much to ask of you. I’m VERY aware of how much work you have coming up. I’d feel bad if I even asked you for some of the air in this room, thank you very much,”

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask me for things,” He said with a steady gaze. “We’re friends,”

“Well… in that case,” you folded your hands together sheepishly. “Could I come back to read the old flower manual sometime?”

Gepard raised his eyebrows with another rare smile.

“Of course,”

2023 - Oven-Mitt-On-A-Bookshelf - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 5

Summary: You and Gepard head to the theater and then check out the outside of the Museum! It’s cold out.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 3.2k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: I love Gepard!!! (Does not have Gepard. Yet.) (this was written July 6th and that might change as of Blade’s banner.)

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

The wind was a little stronger than usual the day you met Gepard for your theater “date”. You had to bring along a pack of tissues to keep from sniffling the entire walk there. It almost felt like little ice crystals were lodging in your throat as you breathed.

The Captain was leaning up against a wall outside of the building. He was wearing less armor than usual, this time only dressed in a white military tunic with a black jacket underneath. His usual gauntlet was missing and had been replaced with black leather gloves, and a few blue and gold metals dotted his chest. 

Wow. That is a LOT of medals, you whispered internally. You felt a little weird in your traditional Belobogian attire. You suspected people would just assume he was escorting some poor pedestrian. 

Even without the uniform you were so used to seeing, he was no less noticeable.

Or dashing, you thought, glancing off to the side. Then you remembered the conversation you had with Serval earlier. You felt something tug at your heart.

I’m sure he has his reasons, you shook your head to clear the doubt. 

“There’s quite a sizable crowd today. Is it always like this?” You spoke up, trotting beside him towards the entrance stairs. 

The building was grand, it stood out like a gem amidst gravel alongside the other buildings. It had columns made of intricately carved stone, and brilliantly dyed banners hung from every surface possible. 

“Ah, yes. The Golden Theater is a magnet for people seeking a way to spend their leisure.” Gepard adjusted the collar of his jacket. “Take care not to get trampled,”

“I’ll try,” you said haphazardly. You pulled out the delicate silver tickets from your pocket and held them up into the sunlight, examining them energetically. 

His eyes rolled down to where your small form stood shivering in the cold, but still trying your best to keep the tremor out of your voice. A part of him wanted to reach down and pull you closer. He looked forward again to prevent himself from thinking too hard about it.

Gepard noticed that your eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual, especially on the medals. He felt a twinge of nervousness somewhere deep in his chest. 

I'm sure it's nothing, he sighed inwardly. 

You arrived at the mahogany doors to the theater, held open by rather formal-looking workers, and went in. You squinted in surprise at just how bright it was due to gaudy crystal chandeliers reflecting light across the walls. It smelled like velvet and old books, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just unfamiliar.

“You seem very excited,” he said, gazing down at you. You nodded. 

“Excited?? I’m thrilled! Yet another thing I can cross off the bucket list!” You said confidently, pressing your fist to your chest. “I'm sure you've seen these events a thousand times, right? It must be pretty weird seeing me get excited about these types of things.” You pulled at the fabric of your clothing to distract yourself. 

“This is the first time you’ve been able to take advantage of the activities offered on the Surface. It would be unreasonable of me to expect you not to be thrilled,” Gepard said, surprised. “And I haven’t, for the record. Serval was never one to enjoy formal events.” He shrugged. 

He gazed back at you as you stared at the paintings decorating the hallway. A lot of them were snowy and unforgiving landscapes, illustrating the devastation the Eternal Freeze had caused. 

“I guess you wouldnt’ve had too much time for it, either. Captain’s duties, right?” You chirped. 

Gepard froze. 

It was something about the way you said it, tinged with just a little too much enthusiasm. 

You continued to walk, seemingly unbothered while he frantically searched for something to bring up. You stopped at a display of a metal sculpture and “oohed” at it, then dodged a random passerby as more people began to stream in. It didn’t look like you were mad, at least. 

That feeling of nervousness from earlier resurfaced, making him feel like his insides were churning. Gepard was at a loss for words. He had assumed you knew at first, but it became clearer as time went on that you didn’t.

It was unusual for him NOT to mention it, but after your first meeting, he felt like he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to lose that strange feeling of being on equal footing with someone. 

You were so genuine and inquisitive, unlike the numerous businessmen and aristocrats of the city. The burden on his shoulders lessened the slightest bit when he talked to you. 

It’s not like he minded dedicating his life to his duties, but he didn’t want to let go of the warmth you offered him. 

Was he selfish for wanting that?

His eyebrows scrunched up as he mulled over what the right thing to say would be, but he couldn't drum up a solution before an usher gave you both a slip of paper and showed you to your seats. They were more towards the back of the chamber, next to a door covered in black fabric to minimize the amount of light getting in. You two sat down on the velvet cushions in silence, while the auditorium around you was bustling with chatter. 

You clenched your fists in your lap, beginning to get a little nervous at the silence as well. Gepard was a man of few words, but it was far too quiet for your liking. 

Was that the wrong thing to say? Your thoughts fired at a mile a minute. Maybe he thinks I’m snooping around… Does he think I only want to get closer to him because of his position??

I guess people of our standing wouldn’t normally hang out anyways. Vaska had a point. I do feel kind of weird now that I know,

I’m not afraid of the nobles, you realized. I’m afraid I’m going to bring him down, 

Scenarios started flashing into your head, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you tried to expel them from your brain. As the curtains rose and the lights dimmed, you tried to focus your mind on the story instead.

A show this grand had never graced the likes of the Underworld, you realized as it started. The play you had bought tickets to on a whim was called a “musical”, you believed they called it. 

I don't see why they need to sing to tell a story, you thought skeptically. The lead singer was gorgeous, though. Her name was Tamila, if you remembered correctly. You took a look at the pamphlet that the usher gave you, when blinding light filled your vision. 

Blinking like a warp trotter in the headlights of a streetcar, you realized one of the spotlights had turned your way, onto the door, to be exact. 

You saw the fabric swish open as a woman in a gilded mask whisked out, belting out a new musical number and leaping down the aisle. Several more dancers followed behind her, swooping their arms in synchrony. 

You had to admit, it was a cool idea, although you could use a little less light in your face. You figured it had to do with the fact you had only experienced the serene light of the geomarrow column most of your life, not whatever the heck this was. 

Even with the ridiculous amount of light in your eyes, you came to realize with a start that most of it wasn’t even hitting you. Gepard had it way worse, he was actually catching the majority of the spotlight. You could see how his blue eyes were squinting as he tried his best to focus on the scene. It was kind of cute, actually. 

Huh, so it’s just like in real life too, you thought, amused. You made up your mind at that very moment. 

If Gepard was the sun, it was only natural others would live in his shadow. It didn’t matter if he was the captain or not, as long as you still wanted to spend time together, everything was fine as it was.

Besides, if anyone ever gave you flack, you could just get out your old mining pickaxe. 

You turned your eyes back to the play, the troupe of people that had entered from the door had finally joined the main group onstage. The dance grew into a passionate frenzy, and then finished with the masked woman sweeping Tamila into the air, then catching her as the cast cheered. 

Clapping joyfully, you watched the actors bow while the audience showered them in bouquets. 

Wow. No wonder there were so many people coming in today, you realized. You wilted a bit as one of the actors stepped on a Rainbow and turned it to mush. 

Gepard couldn’t help but smile at your appreciation for the show as you left the theater, stopping outside the building to avoid the worst of the crowd.

The wind was even stronger than before. You tucked your face into the collar of your shirt miserably while shuffling behind Gepard in hopes he could block the wind for you. 

“Th-thank you for coming with me G-Gepard,” you shivered. “I know h-how you must have a limited amount of free time,”

“Of course,” he replied. “With the Fragmentum letting up, I’ve been able to be out and about more often,” 

The Captain noticed you shying behind him, so he stepped a little closer. You probably weren’t quite used to the cold yet. You thanked him silently.

“In fact,” he continued. “I’ve taken it upon myself to be a volunteer tour guide at the museum as of late,”

“The History and uh… whatever one?” You sniffled.

“History and Culture, yes.” He nodded wisely. He brushed a couple stray hairs out of his face but the wind immediately blew them back.

“Gepard, that’s incredible. You work as hard as ten men!” You giggled. He snorted gently.

“I should stop by sometime. Do you know when the hours are?”

“I’m afraid I don't,” Gepard said, placing a hand on his chin deliberately. “But there should be a sign outside the entrance,”

“If you want, we can stop by before we part ways,” he offered. The Captain pointed over to a faraway building as you walked down the stairs, the crowd having finally eased up.

“Only if you want to. I don't want to drag you by the ear or anything,” you grinned but immediately regretted it as your teeth chattered.

He shook his head. “I'd never offer to do anything I didn’t want to do,”

You gave him a skeptical look. 

“You offered to clean Serval’s workshop…”

———

You could hardly stop yourself from breaking into a run as you neared the museum entrance. A fountain with a large Geomarrow heater sat outside the building and you almost forgot what you were there for as you watched it, mesmerized. A museum employee was standing in front of a corkboard, which you took a quick picture of. Then you turned back to the fountain. 

“Whoa, running water,” you murmured, awestruck. You turned to Gepard, who was standing a few meters away, and called,

“Hey! Gepard! How much trouble would I be in if I drank some??”

“The plumbing system in this city goes back 700 years. I wouldn’t recommend it,” he responded flatly, folding his arms. 

You turned back to the fountain, humbled. You didn’t need any more iron in your system than you already had. 

Resting your arms on the rim of the base, a glint of bronze flickered in the corner of your vision. A small coin landed in the water with a plop. 

You turned to see where it came from, promptly spotting Gepard walking up to you. He tapped you on the shoulder and placed a coin in the palm of your hand. He made a flicking motion with his thumb, which you mimicked, closing your eyes. The coin flipped into the air and landed in the top level of the fountain.

“Nice job,” Gepard commented. You pumped a fist into the air. 

“So… what did you wish for?” You inquired. He sighed.

“I don’t think I’m liable to tell you that,” said the Captain with a serious glance at you. Too serious. You prodded him with your index finger.

Giving up, you looked back at the water but suddenly something large and made of metal crashed into you from behind. 

You toppled in headfirst, inadvertently inhaling a huge gulp of water. You sputtered as you panicked and tried to figure out which way was up, when you felt arms wrap around your legs and back, lifting you out of the basin. 

Clinging to the chest of your rescuer, you coughed harshly, the cold air scraping your lungs while water dripped out your mouth. You were lowered gently onto the ground, recognizing the medals on Gepard’s coat as he stood up and leaned over you. 

“(Y/N), are you alright?” 

Is this the face of God? You wondered, dazed as you stared into his blue eyes. He shouted something you were definitely not paying attention to.

“(Y/N)—,” 

You sat up, almost knocking him in the head. Your eyes traveled towards two guilty looking kids, standing behind a cart wearing museum worker IDs.

“That was quite the fall. Did you hit anything?” 

“I don’t think so.” You winced, struggling to your feet. The museum aide hurried over.

“I am so, so, so sorry. We had a new display coming in and I should have told them to be more careful—,” You blinked at her as she clutched at her head in worry.

“Hey, it’s all right, really. I was like that when I got my first job,” you reassured her. You placed your hands on your hips and faced them.

“Although, if you two aren’t careful from now on, the Supreme Guardian might eat you for lunch, got it?” You said, amused. 

They both bowed and hurried off with the cart. A sculpture labeled “The Galactic Baseballer” peeked out from the side of it. 

Interesting name, you thought.

“You handled that well,” Gepard said, bringing you back to reality. 

“Did I?” You tilted your head at him, lifting your sleeves to let the water drip off them. “Aeons above, I really took it upon myself to absorb every possible drop of water possible,” 

You crossed your arms over your soaked chest, feeling a chill beginning to seep into your bones.

Gepard’s shoulders tensed up. He swiveled his head around, scanning the city, while resting his hands on your forearms. You were left with no time to think before he swept you off your feet and hoisted you onto his shoulder. 

You were frazzled beyond belief. 

“Wait— wait, wait. Gepard what are you—,” Your eyes whisk across the pavement, surveying for any nosy onlookers. 

The Captain carried you to one of the many metal benches dotting the city with a geomarrow heater next to it. He set you down, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you gently.

‘Mind the wet sleeves, I’ll be right back,” he said before starting off towards some unknown destination. You basked in the newfound heat given off by the appliance, holding out your hands to gather as much of it as you could.

I feel like an abandoned pet, your inner voice said. You exhaled, your breath leaving a trail in the air. Thank Qlipoth for these heaters, 

Gepard’s coat was surprisingly comfortable. It was obviously made of durable materials meant to trap in heat. You pulled it closer around your shivering form, nuzzling into the collar contentedly. 

A couple minutes later, when you felt yourself beginning to drift off, you heard the familiar clanking of boots again. You opened your eyes, and lo and behold, it was Gepard!

“My apologies for taking so long. I grabbed you something to wear while your clothes dry.” He held out the item of clothing at arm's length for you to see better. 

You inhaled sharply as you realized it was the same piece of clothing you had been staring at so intently the day you toured the city together. It looked like it was exactly your size, too. 

He remembered?

You felt your heart start to race as he handed it to you. You took it gratefully, taking a moment to stare at the piece. Burying your face in it, you felt tears begin to prick at your eyes. 

It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be this kind,

It was honestly overwhelming.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, your voice muffled. “I’m warming up just fine.” You finally raised your head, blinking the tears away, and rubbed your shoes together to get some of the feeling back into your feet.

“Let’s get you home,” he stated. “The windchill on the surface is nothing to joke about,” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied. You got up, still wearing Gepard’s coat, and hung onto his arm for good measure while you walked. You did mourn the loss of the heater, but this time, your teeth didn’t chatter.

“I’m sorry for having to borrow your coat, even though it’s cold out,” you murmured. “You really are the perfect person to protect the city, you know that?” You smiled up at him gently. Gepard’s nerves buzzed with electricity. 

“It’s nothing extraordinary,” he sighed. “I merely take protecting the things I care about seriously. That’s what being a guard is about,”

He tried not to pay attention to how tenaciously you were gripping onto his sleeve.

“Well, I think you’re extraordinary.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

As cheesy as that is,

You handed Gepard his coat as you returned to your quaint little flower shop. How badly he wanted to tell you that you could borrow it, and return it to him later so he could see you again. He smiled to himself as you went back inside. 

This would do for now.

———

“Great heavens, (Y/N). Did you fall into the ocean or something?” Vaska exclaimed as you dragged yourself upstairs.

“No,” you grumbled, the tips of your coat still dripping. “We all know oceans are a myth,”

“Looking at you, I'd believe they were real,” she fired back as you retreated into your room. You hurriedly shed your wet coat and shoes, putting on the garment Gepard had bought you. 

You turned to look at it from every angle in the full-length mirror before deciding to collapse onto your bed. You combed your fingers through your hair, picking up your floral-patterned pillow and squeezing it tightly. 

Am I— am I in some kind of rom-com?? You groaned inwardly. Your face was flushed with something along the likes of happiness, embarrassment, or both.

Gepard had been nothing but kind during the time you spent together. After years of being a mere vagrant, you almost felt… special when he looked at you.

His blue eyes were so thoughtful and considerate and—,

No!!! I’ve got to keep it together! 

Rolling over, you pressed the pillow into your face and let a guttural shriek loose from your lungs. You chucked it across the room, your hair now a mess.

Meg’s voice rang from downstairs. “KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!!” 

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 3

Summary: Gepard gives you a tour of the city (although it’s more like you’re dragging him along.)

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 2.9k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: I took most of my rules for writing dialogue from some random Wings Of Fire I had on my desk. It’s been so many years since I’ve read it.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

The sun was high in the sky the next day when you met Gepard in front of the Everwinter Monument. 

He was hard to miss, really. The light reflected off every possible inch of his uniform. When you turned to face him, you had to shield your eyes with a gasp.

Oh, this man was too brilliant for everyday life. 

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” he said gently, blonde strands of hair waving in the breeze. 

“Not at all! I was just taking my time admiring the monument.” You gazed back up at the incredible sculpture. “That’s not real ice… is it? I feel stupid for asking,” You murmured. 

“Not exactly. It does look remarkably realistic, though. It was made as a tribute to Plamya, one of the many great architects of this city,”

“What did she do?” You looked at him, feeling intrigued but slightly uneducated.

“She's the one who led the charge in constructing the citadel in order to protect the city from the eternal freeze,” he responded, gazing up at the structure. 

“I can't believe one woman spearheaded that entire operation!” you commented. “You sure know a lot about the history of Belobog, Gepard,”

“You could say that. Now, why don't we get going? There’s a lot to see in Belobog’s administrative district,” 

———

To say there was “a lot to see” in the Administrative District was the understatement of the century. 

It was everything you had imagined it to be, pieced together from stories told by your upperclassmen, and more. Your first decision was to stop at various newspaper stands, ecstatically flipping through half of the available merchandise. 

There was so much to read up here! In the Underworld, the same 30 books were cycled between people over and over again. Most of them were medical records kept by Natasha, too. 

Gepard made sure to point out important buildings and historic facts to you as you walked. You had no idea there was so much history to the place! You started bouncing down the street so excitedly, he had to pull you out of the way of an oncoming street car. 

Next, you made sure to peer through the windows of all of the shops. At one particular clothing store, you bent down to get a closer look at the stitchwork on the pieces. There was not a seam to be found. Your guide noticed you staring particularly hard at a certain item of clothing.

“Is there anything that piqued your interest?” Gepard inquired. You sighed, scrunching your face up.

“Well, yes, but I'd rather not spend recklessly right now. I don't want to look like an upstart,” you scoffed. You stared at the article a little longer before turning away and standing up.

“That’s understandable.” He folded his arms and nodded. He took a step back to get a better look at the display window that belonged to the boutique you were so curious about. 

After successfully making every shop owner in a 3-block radius uncomfortable, you decided to check out the famous theater in the area. The building was more elegant than anything you had ever seen in your life, with square columns were detailed down to the centimeter. You figured a single chunk would fetch a pretty decent price. You did still have your old mining pickaxe—,

You squished your face with your hands suddenly to dispel your unholy thoughts. A confused expression flickered across Gepard’s face, but he thought nothing of it. He merely wasn’t accustomed to seeing people this excited, especially when he was present.

You decided to write down a reminder to buy tickets for your next day off.

By noon, you were ridiculously parched from scurrying around the city. You spotted your savior, a friendly vending machine, resting by the stone wall of the lower level of the city. You enthusiastically punched in the numbers for a Jim Roger Bread Soda, asking Gepard if he would like one too.

“Soda? I’ve only had the pleasure of trying it once,” he responded, 

“Ah, I see. We used to drink it a lot when the water wasn't safe,” you reminisced, meeting his gaze. “I wasn't sure if you guys indulged in that type of thing up here,”

“It wouldn't hurt to expand my view on beverages, I suppose.” He rested a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

You fed some more coins into the machine, and out popped a differently shaped bottle. It was rather small, especially for someone with hands like Gepard’s. 

“The carbonation in this one is a little weaker, so maybe you'll like it better. Who knows?” You said with a grin, handing it to him.

When he inspected the label, it read, “Strawberry Svarog”, complete with a curly straw and a cartoon of a laughing child. He deduced it must have been a children’s soda, popping the cap off and tilting his head back, but you stopped him before the bottle reached his lips.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head disapprovingly. “You’ve gotta use the straw, or else you won't get the full experience!” 

He looked at you quizzically. “Do I really have to?”

You pursed your lips at him. He sighed, tearing open the straw and taking a sip. You had to admit, he did look a little silly, with a serious look on his face and his nose all scrunched up. Stifling a giggle, you screwed the cap off your own soda.

“How is it?” You asked. “I don't think I've ever had that flavor before— Strawberry Svarog? I wonder what he would think if he found out he was being used as a marketing gimmick,” you snickered. 

What on Jarilo-VI is a strawberry? Gepard wondered.

“Not too shabby. Here, try some.” He held it out to you, but instead of taking it in your hands to drink, you leaned forward and took a sip while he was still holding it.

The background chatter around you seemed to cease slightly. 

“I agree! A little on the lukewarm side, but—,”

Mortified, you realized what you had done. 

“Shoot—! I'm s-sorry. Must be gardener’s reflexes or something! I guess I thought I still had dirt on my hands or something… hahaha,” you trailed off.

Your face felt like it was burning as you flailed your arms about, so you spun around quickly to prevent him from seeing your frazzled expression. 

And it was a good thing you did, too, or else you would have seen his.

The soldier next to you resembled more so a “strawberry” than a man. His eyes darted around wildly as he turned the other way to give you some privacy, his hands falling to his side. 

“W-well, no matter.” He coughed. “Why don't we stop and get something to eat as well? You must be famished,”

“Yeah… definitely,”

———

Gepard took you to the cafe by Serval’s workshop, where she and Molly would often stop by on their lunch breaks. You grabbed a croquette sandwich, and him, a muffin. You sat down at the metal tables outside and began to enjoy your food. 

The guard made a noticeable clanking noise as he sat down. He was almost a head taller than you. It was a little embarrassing, frankly. 

“So, Gepard, do you always wear your uniform when you're out and about?” You questioned. 

“I do, yes.” He nodded.

“It has to be comfortable if you wear it all the time, then,” 

Gepard hummed thoughtfully. “Not exactly. But it is required of me, after all.” He took a bite of his muffin. 

You reached across the table and grasped the arm with the gauntlet, examining it closely.

“Whoa! It’s really warm!” You exclaimed, turning his hand over so his palm faced upwards. You curled each of his fingers almost instinctively. “This thing makes you look really tough, you know?” You added. 

Gepard could have died right then and there, and he would have been happy.

“R-really? You think so?” He closed his eyes bashfully. 

You hummed in response, still focused on his handguard.

Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen anyone around here that looks remotely close to him, you wondered. I figured there would be more, since he's a soldier and all, 

You took a bite of your food, determined to remain unbothered. Gepard finished his muffin quickly, so you offered him half your sandwich in your usual generous fashion. 

As you finished up, a commotion coming from the center of the plaza drew your attention. A crowd of around forty people had gathered by the monument, clapping their hands to a steady beat. They seemed to be arranged in a circle surrounding someone.

Your face lit up as you heard the tones of an instrument beneath the chatter of people. The metal chair, which you had been sitting in previously, was pushed away with a screech as you got up. 

Gepard reached out a hand to you as you sprinted towards the throes of people, but faltered and let out a defeated sigh. He gave in and rose to join you instead.

When you reached the center of the square, you spotted the musician you often saw practicing outside the shop, strumming her guitar as people smiled around her. (Although the only reason you knew of her was because Vaska had a huge crush on her and would NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT. “Ooh, (Y/N), do you think she likes reading? Do you think she likes Tale of the Winterlands???” It was actually kind of sweet, though.)

According to your sheepish co-worker, it was “just a passing fancy”. This “passing fancy” had been going on for about two months. 

I wonder if I should take a video to send to her, you wondered with an amused smile.

You began to tap your foot in sync with the downbeats of the song. You were taken aback by just how quickly the music ensnared you in its hold. It filled you with energy that coursed through your veins.

And it seemed like you weren't the only one, either. Several people in the crowd began to dance, children and couples alike twirling hand-in-hand. You feel a grin start to form on your face, and decided that now would be a great time to join the fray. 

You leapt into the center, right next to the musician, who gave you a wink. You swayed on your feet with the strums of the guitar, your dress whirling. You kicked your legs into the air, mirroring the person across from you with a giggle. 

Meanwhile, Gepard was politely making his way towards the front of the crowd. 

“Excuse me, apologies, coming through,” he muttered while tapping on people’s shoulders. The crowd parted when they spotted him coming. 

He strained his neck to look into the mass of dancers, spotting you at the center, dipping your arms and spinning on your feet with another girl your age. 

You caught a glimpse of Gepard’s iconic uniform in your line of sight, and immediately waltzed over to him in a rather dramatic fashion. 

You ran your fingers down his forearms lightly, and then interlaced your hands with his, yanking him backwards with all your might into the dancers. He yelped as he stumbled into your arms. For someone built like a tank, he sure came unbalanced easily. 

“Wait— ah, h-hold on, I don't know how to dance—,” Gepard stammered, glancing down at you. 

“That's fine, just hold on to me!” You winked at him, pulling him closer so he couldn't back out. You rested a hand on his shoulder, and wrapped the other around his gauntlet. You shuffled him into a silly looking box step, something that would resemble a dance a family might have in the kitchen.

Gepard’s breath was much heavier than usual, especially because he was in such close proximity to you. Your chests were pressed together, in order to take up the least amount of space as other people spun past you. 

His eyes were wide with surprise as you raised his arm and twirled under it. It took all of his concentration to keep his hands from shaking. He was worried about gripping you too tightly or too loosely, as one wrong move from a guard like him could squish you. 

He tried to dispel his worries, and instead focused on you. You were as radiant as the sun, with a smile brighter than the Belobog snow. 

You two wove through the crowd, stepping rowdily with the upbeat music, and he tried his best to keep up. Gepard felt his cheeks warming while you stared into his eyes, an elated expression paining your features. Unfortunately, it was cut short though. You stepped on your own foot and sent you both tumbling onto the pavement, the clatter of his armor dimming the laughter of children for a split second. 

The crowd stepped out of the way as you rolled on the stone ground, limbs tangling together. 

You burst into raucous laughter as you sat up, holding your stomach because it hurt so much and wiping tears from your eyes. Gepard was engaged in breathy laughter of his own. He looked just like a prince when he was happy, you realized.

“Wow, that was… incredible,” He coughed.

“I know right? I have the grace and beauty of a warp trotter.” You got up and curtseyed, flaring your jacket for extra impact and offering a hand to him.

“I don't see why that matters as long as you're having fun,” He took your hand and you pulled him up with a grunt.

You noticed the crowd was giving you some strange glances, some of them looking directly at you as they whispered under their breath. You clenched your jaw slightly. 

“I guess you're right. On the other hand, you got pretty into it too!” You turned your attention back to him, teasing him with a grin. He wiped his cheek with a distracted look.

Heading out of the crowd, you leaned on his shoulder like a wounded soldier. When you finally escaped, you realized the sun was setting with a start.

“My gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to take this long,” you spoke, embarrassed. “I just got super caught up in the moment, s’all,” 

“No worries,” He said as he gestured reassuringly. “I enjoyed it. I can't remember the last time I spent some quality time in the city,”

“I guess there's always some fun to be had, even if you've lived here your whole life,” you commented. “Wait! I almost forgot— I wanted to get a picture in front of the monument,” you fished your phone out from your bag.

“Of course,” he said courteously, holding his hand out towards you. You looked at him, puzzled.

“Of us, I mean,”

“Oh, um… sure,” He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s all right if you'd rather not,” you yammered, your face beginning to heat up. “It’s just that it's my first time on an outing with a friend! I wanted something to remember it by,” 

“It's fine, it’s not an inconvenience or anything,” he blurted out. 

You motioned for him to stand in front of the monument next to you and raised your phone up. No matter how hard you tried though, you could never catch more than half of his face in the frame, even on your tippy toes. You grumbled as you kept trying to adjust your position.

He took the phone from you gently, holding it up so it caught you both from above. The shutter clicked and he handed it back to you, and you raised your arms above your head with a cheer.

“It looks great! Thank you so, so much. I’ll send it to you once I get the chance,” you beamed. 

“I would enjoy that,” he responded with a soft smile. Fortunately for him, the sunset hid the blush on his face that stubbornly refused to go away. 

He walked you back to the florists, shoulder to shoulder. The streets were now quieter, with the trams having stopped for the day, and all that remained outside the shop was a group of kids and their caretakers. 

You stopped at the stairs, bowing your head when you turned around. 

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you said gently, rocking from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

“My pleasure,” Gepard replied. He placed a hand on his chest and nodded back, just like a gentleman would. 

As corny as it seemed, your heart fluttered in your ribcage. Resting a hand on your hip, you used the other one to flick him in the forehead, sending a few strands of golden hair flying. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

His eyes sprung open, his hand going to his forehead in surprise. 

“It’s best you get going,” you said. “Soldiers need their beauty rest, after all. Get home safely!” 

He nodded with a silent smile before turning away and starting off towards the direction of Qlipoth Fort. While he was walking, he felt a vibration in his pocket. 

His phone had one new notification, which was from you. Gepard opened up the messaging app to see the photo you had taken. You were wearing a goofy grin, and he was bent down with his lips pressed together sheepishly.

Gepard felt something akin to happiness bubbling up from his chest. He looked up into the sky, allowing himself a single second to loosen up, and pumped his fists into his chest. He sauntered towards the estate, humming one of his sister’s songs as he went. 

Meanwhile, the kids playing nearby were dumbfounded. A little red-haired girl stopped and pointed at him.

“Mommy, what's that man doing?”

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 4

Summary: Serval stops into the shop, and you and Vaska go to the cafe Gepard showed you.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 3.1k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: When I was revising this thing, it started raining really hard. I turned all the lights off and put on some lo-fi beats, and everything was perfect for a solid half hour.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

A few days later, you were sitting on the edge of your mattress, waiting for Vaska to reply to a text you sent earlier that morning. Two tickets to the Golden Theater laid on your bedside table. Your phone buzzed and your hand darted to pick it up nervously. 

From: Vaska

Vaska: Sorry, I can't come to the theater today! 

Vaska: I haven’t had time to reread Tale of the Winterlands lately. I wanted to get to that today.

You: That’s all right! The tickets were discounted, so I just figured I would get them! Enjoy your reading!

Vaska: Wait, I am available for lunch though. 

Vaska: It feels like forever since I’ve seen you! 

You: Vaska, we work together.

Vaska: Yes. And?

You: …

You: Ok, I’ll be there.

You sighed, shaking your head. It had been a bad idea to buy an extra ticket, even if they WERE discounted for the final day of thIs play they were showing. 

Well, worst case scenario, I have a fancy piece of paper I can hang up, but it’ll be a shame if this ticket gets wasted, you thought to yourself.

You chewed on your nails. Should I ask Serval? She might still be busy fixing her device. I’d better not… 

What about Gepard? Maybe I could pay him back for giving me that tour, You flicked the screen to Gepard’s contact info, but you noticed the name in the slot read “Gerard” instead. 

Oh shoot, better fix that,

You tapped the screen to edit his name, but hit the “call” button by mistake. 

“Nono wait no—,” you gasped. Your thumb darted to the red icon in the corner, but you heard someone on the other line pick up ridiculously quickly. 

“Hello? Gepard Landau speaking,” His voice was clear on the other end. Your nervous system threatened to wrangle its way out of your body that very second. 

“Hi! Hello! Um—, I’m really sorry,” you stuttered. “I clicked the call button by mistake,”

“Oh..? That’s all right,” There was no marked change in tone when he spoke again. He was standing in the office of the new Supreme Guardian, right next to some stacks of papers. Pela peeked her head out from behind one of them.

“I was meaning to ask you about something though,” you blurted out, grabbing your beret from the side table. “I happen to have an extra ticket to the Golden Theater. There’s a showing today at two o’clock. I'm sorry it’s on short notice, but would you like to come with me?” 

Gepard clasped his phone in a death grip.

“Ahem—, yes. That works for me. I don't have any urgent meetings today. Can I meet you on the steps outside the building?” He asked. 

“Yep! Sounds good! I’ll see you— YEOW!!!” Your foot smacked your dresser as you spun towards the door. You yelped as your phone flew out of your hands and landed on the ground a solid meter away. 

You groaned, rolling onto your back and sitting up, tears springing to your eyes. 

“Shit—! Aeons, that hurt,” you winced.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?? Is everything all right?” You heard Gepard say loudly. 

“Y-yeah. I tripped, s’all,” you grunted, placing a hand on the wall to keep yourself steady as you rose to your feet. “That definitely woke me up,”

“Take care of yourself,” he sighed, relieved.

“Yep, yep! I’ll see you— soon!” You choked out and hung up frantically. You placed both hands against the wall and hit your head against it repeatedly, groaning in shame. 

———

You were in the middle of fixing the broken cash register when a familiar blonde-haired woman walked through the door.

“Serval!” Your head shot up as you gave her an excited wave. “Good to see you! What brings you to our shop today?” 

She strolled over to the counter, where various pieces of equipment were sprawled out on the surface. 

“Mornin’ (Y/N)! Molly and I were just RAVING about how the flowers Gepard got us have livened up the place!” Serval tossed her silky hair over her shoulder. “We were thinking of buying some more, since we could really use some more color in our lives,”

“I'm sure flowers are better than soot,” you giggled. “What did the Ministry of Education say about the experiment you were running?”

“Huh?” Serval looked bewildered. 

“The research project? Y’know, the one that exploded??” A shadow of confusion flickered across your face.

“Oh! Yes, that one! They were gracious enough to give me an extension.” She shook her head up and down aggressively, her eyes rattling in her skull.

“I'm glad to hear it!” You wiped your forehead in relief, turning to some pots resting on a cabinet. “So… as for the flowers… I know you have the purple ones, so why not go with yellow? Purple can represent maturity and elegance, and yellow might round it out a bit.” You ran your fingers across the wood.

“Although, if you'd like to keep the place feeling more formal, you could go with these blue ones here,” you quipped. “They match Molly’s hair,” 

You lifted up the planter that held said flowers, which were white on the inside, but faded into a dark teal on the edges.

Serval reached out to touch them tentatively, her eyes flicking towards something behind you.

“Hmm… what’s that one over there?” She said inquisitively.

“Oh--!” You spun around to see what she was pointing at. It was a wooden window box, filled to the brim with flowers of every hue.

“That’s one of our clearance boxes! We had a mix up with the seed packets during planting time, so they’re 30% off. Pretty interesting looking, right?” You lifted up the box, your chest heaving with effort. 

“Definitely.” She peered over the walls of the box with an approving smile. “I'll take this one,”

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“One hundo percent. This one speaks to me,” she mused.

“Fair enough. Whatever pleases the Rock Star of Belobog.” You shook your head and shrugged.

“Oh please, you flatter me,” she chuckled. You pushed the components of the cash register into a neat pile to make way for the flowers. 

A ghost of a smile crossed your lips as you recalled how painstakingly long Gepard had spent picking up the flowers for his sister, and just how spontaneously she had chosen hers. 

I can’t believe I know people equally as incredible, but as different as night and day, you contemplated.

“So, (Y/N),” Serval piped up, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You seem awfully chipper today. Did something good happen?”

Maybe something involving a certain bashful captain? She thought with a sly smile. 

The air in the room seemed to turn pink as you swayed happily. 

“Well, business has been skyrocketing lately with the weather getting warmer.” You rested your head in the palm of your hand thoughtfully. “More people feel like they have the means to take care of flowers! In fact, there’s been a ton of people coming in today,”

“Awwh, that's wonderful!” She said joyfully. “...anything else?”

Her smile grew wider. Serval could almost sense there was something you weren’t telling her. You gulped. 

“Um— well, Gepard and I are heading to the theater today,” you said, a little quieter than the way you had talked previously. “I wanted to thank him for guiding me around the plaza a few days back,”

“What??? Why didn't you lead with that??” She slammed her hands on the desk, flabbergasted. You flinched and shook your head. 

“It’s not THAT big of a deal,” you brushed it off sheepishly. “Just a little outing, nothing more to it,”

Serval’s bottom lip quivered with something between joy and rage.

“It is too!” she argued. “My brother lives and breathes his work. I can't believe someone is finally helping him loosen up a bit,” She sniffled dramatically. “I think I'm getting teary-eyed!” 

You handed her the hefty window box with a smirk. “If you say so. Well then, it was great seeing you! Take good care of them,” 

“Of course! Have fun on your date!!!” Serval sang, pushing the door open.

“Wait—,”

She gave you a salute with her free hand and slipped through the crack in the door before it shut. 

Well, that was weird, to say the least,

———

“... and seventy-five grams high nutrient fertilizer,” Gepard murmured, reading off the slip of paper you had given him. He scooped some fine powder from the burlap sack, lowering himself to eye-level with the plant with the meticulousness of a scientist. 

His blue eyes were fixed on the measuring spoon, tilting it onto the plant when his sister barged in. She was carrying a box of flowers, almost slamming the door into the wall with how much foece she put in. Gepard flinched so hard he flung the spoon into the air and it hit the ceiling with a “thud”.

“Geppie!!!” Serval shouted affectionately as the spoon landed on the hardwood. “A little birdie told me that you have a date at the theater today!!” 

She sauntered in and set down the flower box on his desk. He looked on sadly as bits of soil fell onto his paperwork.

“A d-date? Where’d you get that from? And how did you even get in here!? I thought the Landau—,” he stumbled over his own words and she cut him off, too elated to notice how she was trampling his attempts to speak.

“I stopped by the flower shop this morning. You never mentioned anything of the sort!” She swayed excitedly.

“That’s because I found out today,” Gepard grumbled. “They merely had an extra ticket.” He bent down to gather some of the fertilizer into a pile on the floor.

Unless… they said it was a date..? He felt hope rising in his chest but he quickly squashed it. Hope? No, he wasn’t hoping. Of course not. 

Serval smirked, stepping closer to him. 

“Don't think I don't notice how utterly smitten you are.” She looked at her nails with a frivolous expression. “You know, how your face gets all rosy, your voice gets higher, and you listen extra hard when they speak?” 

Gepard’s lips pulled back into a thin line. He glanced at the bamboo plant one last time before spinning around and dropping onto the bed, the mattress straining with the sudden weight.

The Captain rested his head in his hands, heaving a sigh as his blue eyes stared onto the floor. 

“Is it… that obvious?” He said quietly.

Serval widened her eyes in surprise. Usually her brother stood his ground and brushed her off. She took a break from her teasing to plop down on the feather bed next to him. 

“Maybe just to me,” she answered. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. 

“After all, I've known you long enough that I've never seen you care about anything this much. Your sister gets a little worried sometimes! You practically live and breathe your work.” Serval leaned slightly off the bed to get a closer look at his face, analyzing his features.

“And, as much as I love to tease you about it, I’m really happy my cute little brother has found someone he wants to offer his heart to,”

She rifled a hand through his hair teasingly, sending golden strands everywhere. Gepard’s hands shot up defensively with a grunt. They sat in silence for a bit, until she spoke up again.

“Also, I’ve noticed you've gotten pretty good at taking care of plants now too! Look at you, my little gardener!” Said Serval. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair now. I doubt the Landau Residence really wants me around anyways.” She shrugged, picking up her box. She kicked the door open unceremoniously and skipped out into the hallway, leaving a plethora of confused faces in her wake. 

Gepard sighed. She hadn’t let him get a single word in edgewise. It was the trademark Landau stubbornness, after all.

———

Vaska’s stream of praises for the cafe you had chosen today were endless. She had the expression of someone who had just won the lottery as she bit into a cinnamon strudel. 

“Mmm, thish ish sooo delicious...” She licked the sugary dust off her fingers in satisfaction, wiping her lips and picking up another one. “How’d you find this place?”

“A friend introduced me,” you replied as you sipped your raspberry mint tea. “I'm surprised you didn't know about it, actually,”

“Well, I'm trying to avoid spending money because I’m saving for the upcoming sequel of my favorite book!” She giggled. The air seemed to be filled with sparkles all of a sudden. 

“Is it to Tale of the Winterlands?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Bingo!”

“Aren't you afraid of it being confiscated?” 

“Not anymore,” Vaska crossed her arms with a smile. “It’s pending approval. Anyways, I didn't know you had friends outside of the flower shop. I'm glad you're finally branching out!” 

She rested her index finger on her cheek before continuing. “Although… Meg is gonna have your head if you keep coming back late after deliveries,”

“Gah, I know, I know. I just get so caught up talking to one of the clients. The friend I was just talking about,”

“Hmph. I'm just trying to keep you out of the fire, you know. On the other hand, she sounds delightful! What’s she like?”

“Um,” you paused. “He’s a guard,”

“A guard?” Her eyes glittered as she leaned across the table. “No way. An Underworlder and a guard, huh? What an interesting pair!” 

You chuckled. “I guess you're right. He can be a little awkward sometimes, but he's very genuine and diligent!” 

“As all good guards are, of course,” she nodded. A surprised expression flickered across your face.

“Vaska… Is there something you want to tell me?” You jested. “I didn't know you had a type. Besides the musician, of course,”

You've never seen someone’s expression go deadpan so quickly. 

“No. Nope. You've got it all wrong!!” She crossed her forearms in an “X”. 

“The idea of romance isn't half bad, but being in it sounds way too hard. If anything, my type would be more like Anna, from—,”

“Tale of the Winterlands,” you interjected again. She hummed in approval.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “You’re both very independent,”

“Aww, you think so?” A rosy blush spread across your co-worker’s face. “It's so nice to have a friend like you,”

She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “Anyways… what's the name of your guard friend?” You took a sip of your own before replying.

“Gepard,” 

Vaska’s jaw dropped through the floor.

“WHAT?!?” She stood up and slammed her hands onto the table. You recoiled in shock, her exclamation almost blowing your beret off. Heads turned towards your table as you panicked.

“Shh! Vaska, keep it down!” You hissed, placing your hands on her forearms in an attempt to soothe her. She sat back down and began to chew on her fingernails.

“Gepard… Gepard Landau??”

“Uh-huh,”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, built like a tank?”

“Yeah, what about him? He’s not like a serial killer or something, right??”

Your mind flashed back to the times he directed you to the inside of the sidewalk or smiled tenderly at the flowers in the shop when he thought no one was looking.

No way—,

“No, goodness gracious no. Of course not! Gepard is the furthest thing from a serial killer you could get.” She shook her head vigorously, her beret flying off and drifting to the floor. She leaned down from her chair to grab it, her face still red from shouting.

“Then WHY is this such a big deal??” You inquired with an exasperated look on your face. 

“It’s because HE'S THE CAPTAIN OF THE SILVERMANE GUARDS,” she spat out in a single breath. She let out a wheeze as she dropped her head onto the table.

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. 

“Th--, Th-the Captain?!? Oh Aeons…” you stammered, biting on a mint leaf. You winced as the icy juices spread across your tongue. 

“Didn't you notice no other ‘guard’ in the area looked like him?”

“I mean, yes. But I thought the guards OUTSIDE the city wore stuff like that too,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“Oh by the PRESERVATION.” She ran a palm across her face. 

“And— and I did notice people gave us some weird looks when we danced in the square—,”

“You DANCED WITH HIM???”

Vaska was about to rip her hair out. You buried your face in your arms and nodded. 

“...Vaska, does this mean I have to stop hanging out with him?” You said quietly.

She grabbed you by the cheeks and pulled you close.

“NO. Of course not. It’s just that.. I’d hate for you to be involved in some high class squabble or something,” she snorted. “You know how easily agitated the nobles are,”

“Er—, Not really?”

“Well, they are! Who knows, you probably already have a bunch of jealous suitors!” 

You held your palms out to placate her. “I mean, Gepard is great and all, but it’s really not like that. He values his work more than anything,” 

“You can't ever be too safe.” She gave you a warning glance. “If rumors get spread, and you lose your job, who would I look forward to talking to every day??” 

“I’d still come and visit!” You protested. “And I hardly believe Meg would kick me out because of a bunch of silly rumors,” you said flatly.

“That is NOT the issue,” she groaned. You reached out and clasped her hands.

“Don't worry, Vaska. I'm gonna be careful, okay?” 

“I trust you, but just know I will be terrified. Forever. ‘Til the end of days,” she bemoaned. 

“I get where you’re coming from,” you reassured her. “Just remember, this is my decision. I’d never take on anything I couldn’t handle!”

She pouted, stretching her arm across the cafe table and snagging your tea. She took a sip and handed it back to you.

“Ugh. Too much milk,” she scowled before quickly returning to her normal self. “Now, Tell me what being friends with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards is like…” 

You laughed gently. 

“Of course. I'd be happy to,”

———

Later, after you had left the cafe, you opened up your phone and sent a text to Serval. 

To: Serval

You: Serval, why did no one bother telling me that your brother is the captain of the Silvermane Guards???

Serval: …belobog’s last bastion of hope?

You: Do NOT avoid the question

Serval: ahahaha

Serval: sorry, sorry

Serval: I thought you knew

You: I did not.

Serval: oops

Serval: don’t worry, it’s not like he's any less dorky when he's commanding platoons or anything

You: SERVAL

Read at 13:22 pm ✅

Seriously???

You just about threw your phone across the street. 

2023 - Oven-Mitt-On-A-Bookshelf - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 2

Summary: You’re making your daily delivery rounds and become acquainted with Gepard’s sister. Things sure do happen!

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 4.2k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard but otherwise not much else is mentioned

A/N: I’ll have you know all of this was written on a Google Doc named “I am Sorry”.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

A few days later, you were pleased to see that your new guard friend decided to show up again. 

He sure took his sweet while staring at the flowers this time. You couldn't blame him for his indecisiveness though, because choosing something as special as flowers could be a challenge.

Gepard eventually gave up and walked over to the counter. You gave him a friendly wave.

“Hey there again! How’s the new plant doing?” You inquired, shifting your weight onto your toes with a happy grin.

“Fairly well, surprisingly. I'm very happy with it,” he said with a relaxed expression.

“I’m glad! That’s the first time I've ever recommended somethin’ to someone!” You exclaimed. He blinked in surprise. 

“So, what are you in here for this time?” You asked.

“I'd like to buy some flowers for my older sister. She could use something to liven up her workshop. I'm not sure which ones to get for her though.” He paused, looking off to the side at the plants hanging by the windows. 

“Aww, that’s really sweet! What’s her favorite color?” You said.

“Purple,” he replied.

You glanced at the rows of purple flowers on the shelves and bit your lip. “Um, well, What's she like?” 

“She’s definitely something,” Gepard murmured to himself. “Between running the workshop and her rock gigs, she practically has an infinite amount of energy.” He shook his head lightly. 

“Rock gigs?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Rock is a genre of music she’s fascinated by. She does concerts sometimes… Although she’s somehow coerced one of my co-workers into performing with her,”

“No way… She’s a musician AND she runs a workshop? She sounds incredible!” Your eyes went wide with awe. 

Gepard stifled a chuckle.

“She can be, sometimes,” He sighed, tapping the desk with an armored finger. “If we ignore the numerous crazy things she’s done in the past,” 

“Sisters, am I right?” You chirped. “Anyways, what about you? What’s being a guard like?” 

“I suppose—,” 

He cut off as your boss shoved past you with some large boxes in hand, almost tipping you onto the desk, but your fall was stopped by his hands, which caught your shoulders and helped steady you. 

“Sorry about that! (Y/N),” she called, not bothering to look back as she rushed into the storeroom. “A new shipment came in today. We could use your help sorting it out if you could hurry it up a bit!” 

“Oops,” You turned back to him. “I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you said sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind small talk,” Gepard responded, fiddling with one of the clasps on his uniform.

“Really? Phew.” You wiped fake sweat from your brow. “Anyways, I think she would enjoy a pot of Indigos.” You pointed to a flowerpot on the leftmost side of the shop. “They’re a nice bold color, and pretty hardy too!”

You swore Gepard’s eyes lit up as he picked up the pot of purple flowers. 

“These are perfect. Your recommendations truly are the best,” Gepard said when he returned to the counter. You thought you heard a bit more warmth beginning to creepinto his voice.

You smiled at him, and for a split second, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. And with that, you checked him out and handed him a blank thank-you card to write on, bowing politely.

“Thank you, come again!” You called, and squeaked in surprise as you were promptly yanked by the collar into the storage room. Gepard could only blink in confusion as he watched you disappear into the back. 

———

A few weeks passed, and Gepard had become a regular at the flower shop. You started to look forward to when he came in so you could chat about how his new bamboo plant was faring. 

I wonder if he has a name for it, you mused to yourself. Probably not,

It was kind of unusual how much he stopped by, though. 

You were in the middle of putting a case full of seed packets on the shelf when you heard the door creak open, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Be right there!” You shouted. You peeked your head out from behind the door frame, only to spot Gepard’s familiar blond hair once more. He was looking very intently at a dresser filled with a variety of multicolored plants. The soldier caught your gaze, but quickly broke eye contact with you, much to your confusion.

“Isn’t this the third time he’s come in this week?” You whispered to your boss, Meg, who was writing labels for the different jars on the shelves. She shrugged.

Meg put her hands on her hips. “I've got no problem with it. It’s good for business, after all. He always seems to be looking for something or someone in particular… He gets awfully sad when you aren't there, y’know,” 

You squinted at her, confused, and then shook your head in disbelief. You headed back to the counter where Gepard was waiting with a small sack in his hands. 

“Good afternoon, Gepard. What can I do for ya this time?” You stared at his face harder than normal, analyzing his expression. It didn't change much.

“Just the usual, please.” He placed the bag of plant fertilizer on the desk while he dug in his pockets for the change. He was dead serious, like usual.

Ugh. Why was he so impossible to read?? 

“You do know we sell these in larger sizes, right?” You questioned while pointing at the bag. Gepard nodded, shuffling his feet a little. 

“Yes, I am aware, but I have a very inquisitive little sister. I'm afraid one of her pets might get into it while I'm not there and get sick,” he answered. “It's easier if there's less of it for them to get into,” 

Gepard ran his gloved hand through his hair while you stood nodding thoughtfully.

“Ohhh, I see!” You let out a gasp of realization. “Phew! I was worried you were coming in here just to see me!” 

“No, of… course not,” he said, mouth agape. The soldier closed his eyes in embarrassment as he felt his face heat up. “Although, seeing you does improve my day greatly,” 

Your face morphed into a scowl, much to his surprise. “You oughta be spending your time better, you know. Guard duty sounds very demanding.” You folded your arms with a huff. “You know, delivery IS an option if you want to save some effort,”

“O-oh? Could you elucidate to me how it works?” He stuttered, expression changing to one of nervous curiosity. 

“Yeah! Delivery works with almost anything. We understand how hard it is to drag an entire plant or package to your residence,”

You shook your finger matter-of-factly as you went off on your sales pitch. “You can place an order in-store and we can bring it to you, even on the same day you place it!” 

“AND, we can do regularly scheduled deliveries, that way, you don't have to come in every two days. Instead, one of our very capable workers will get it to you!” 

He merely stared at you quizzically. You huffed. 

“Believe me, we’re stronger than we look.” You raised your arm, curling it into a fist. “I used to work in the mines, so I'm used to heavy lifting,” you said, putting your hands back on your hips proudly. 

Gepard exhaled through his nose. He knew you weren’t going to let this one go.

“So… Would you be interested? I’d hate for you to have to go on a wild Mole chase every time you want to buy fertilizer,” you said slyly. 

“Well—” He raised his hand to protest. “It’s really not an issue—,”

“Nonsense! I'm sure your schedule is super busy, so let me help you out!” You slid a purple notecard and a pen with a floral print across the counter to him. 

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” The guard sighed in defeat.

Gepard waited until he got a safe distance away from the shop, and facepalmed with a weak groan. As he drew his hand away, a new look of determination flickered across his face. 

He was going to need new excuses to keep seeing you. 

———

Is this really the place?? You thought, boxes in hand. The sun was setting on the fancy buildings in the modern district of the city, painting them a brilliant orange. You adjusted your beret, determined not to let it fall off, and prepared yourself to venture up the stairs to the massive mansion located on the uppermost level of the city. 

When you reached the entrance at the top, you realized that the unfamiliar building made the shop you called home seem almost microscopic. Two guards were standing at the sides of the heavy-looking wooden door, complete with ornately carved bronze handles. 

The doors opened, and out walked a group of housekeepers. You gave them a feeble wave hello and trotted over to them.

“Hi there! I have a delivery for the—,” You narrowed your eyes at the card on top of the boxes—, “Landau Estate?” 

You hoped you didn’t just butcher the name. One of the guards and a maid sauntered over to you. 

“That’s unusual,” the maid said, taking the card and inspecting it closely. “We weren't expecting a package. This is for fertilizer, you say?” You nodded in agreement. 

“Do you know if anyone here ordered fertilizer?” She turned back to the group of servants, who all murmured among themselves. “Hmm… doesn’t look like it,”

“Oh jeez. I'm sorry, a man named Gepard ordered it. Maybe he put down the wrong address by mistake?” You shrugged. 

Who on Jarilo-VI would live in a house this big, anyways? You wondered. 

“Oh! The young master!” A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. “I wasn't aware he had ordered something. I'm sorry, but we aren't allowed to accept packages on his behalf unless he clears it with us first.” She clasped her hands together. “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” 

You shook your head reassuringly. “That’s all right, I can just find him myself. Does anyone know where he might be?” 

That earned you a few quizzical looks. One of the aides, a woman with chestnut hair, piped up. 

“I heard he was heading to Serval’s workshop today. Maybe if you're lucky, you could catch him on his way out!” 

“Great! Thanks!” 

You adjusted the boxes under your arm once again and flew down the stairs two at a time. 

They called him “Young Master”? You furrowed your brow.

This was getting weirder and weirder.

———

Rapidly flipping through your map of Belobog, you pinpointed an eccentric looking building on the easternmost side of the plaza. When you reached the workshop indicated on your map, you stood still in amazement.

It was covered in the coolest metal fixtures and gave off a mature aura you couldn’t quite put your finger on. If something like this had existed in the Underworld, you wouldn't have been able to see it in full detail anyways.

Not right now! I have a delivery to make! You snapped at yourself. You pried the door open with your hand and used the weight of your back to push your way inside. 

The inside of the building was just as interesting as the outside. Metal cogs spun with no aim in particular, more tools than you had ever seen in your lifetime adorned the walls, and old manuscripts were sprawled out all over the various surfaces. You wanted to explore it all already.

You spotted Gepard talking to a boldly dressed woman at the front desk. Another blue-haired woman was working on a blueprint off to the side, too absorbed in her work to notice the commotion at the door. 

“Aha! There you are!” You exclaimed. “I've got your delivery for this week. Some housekeepers told me I could find you here.” You bounded up to him with the boxes curled under your arm, smiling as he thanked you. 

“I apologize you had to go through all that trouble to find me.” He rubbed his temples. “I should have cleared the whole thing with them first. Here, let me take that for you,” 

The tall woman stepped out from behind the counter, looking you up and down with great interest. She had stunning lip gloss and blond hair with a lone blue streak on her right side. You wondered where she got her style from, as everyone on the surface dressed the same, for the most part.

“And who might you be?” She inquired. 

“I’m (Y/N), from the flower shop across the street.” You curtsied with a smile.

“What a cute little doll!” The woman tilted her head at you, her eyes sparkling with adoration. “Gepard, where on Jarilo-VI did you find them? I know everyone’s face, and I've never seen theirs,” 

You saw Gepard shift from side to side in the corner of your eye. 

“I started working there just a few weeks ago, actually! I’m from the Underworld,” you chirped. 

“No way! Well then, it’s a pleasure to be meeting you!” She offered her hand for you to shake, which you took graciously. She was so easygoing, it was easy to be drawn to her. 

“I'm Serval, this clumsy oaf’s sister.” She wrapped her arm around Gepard and poked him in the side. “The one over there is Molly, my assistant!” She pointed at the worker with blue hair in the corner, who gave you a quick thumbs-up. “It seems you know my brother?”

“Well—,” you started. 

“We don't need to go into detail now, I'm sure you have places to be,” Gepard interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder. He hoped you couldn’t feel his palms sweating.

“No, no, no!” Serval pouted, “I'm invested now, can't you see?” She said, circling around you like a carnivore would. 

“Um. It’s fine, actually! That was the last of the deliveries scheduled for today,” you chimed in.

“Perfect! Molly, could you get our guest some tea?” Serval called. She led you to a small table with an oil lamp resting on it, pulling out your chair before she sat in her own. She rested her arm on the tabletop while leaning forward with a thrilled expression. 

Gepard stayed where he was, rubbing his forehead. The poor man’s cheeks were bright red. 

“So! How are you liking the city so far?” Molly set down two cups of steaming hot tea. You thanked her, then took a sip as you paused to think. It was fragrant and had just the right amount of sweetness.

“It’s honestly gorgeous. The air up here is so clean compared to the mines!” You replied energetically. 

“My thoughts exactly!” The woman across from you nodded. “There’s nothing like the cold Belobog air to wake you up in the mornings too. Have you visited the Everwinter Monument yet?” 

You took in a sharp breath. “No, I haven’t! Not for real, at least. I see it through the window of my apartment sometimes. Since I live and work in the same building, I haven’t really felt the need to explore the city yet,” you murmured. “Although, I'm being put on delivery more often, so I guess there’s that,” 

You gazed around the room curiously, taking another sip of your tea. 

“I've never been in a workshop this fancy before. What kind of work do you do here?” You asked.

“Well, we do a lot of mechanical repairs and research. Although, my brother might have mentioned that we hold Rock gigs here sometimes,” she responded. 

Said brother was looking at the delivery card with incredible concentration. 

I still don't know what a gig is, you sighed inwardly. 

“That's incredible! What instrument do you play?” You said, voice dripping with enthusiasm to make up for the confusion.

“Electric guitar,” Serval said. “I can go grab it for you if you'd like to see it,”

“Would I EVER???” You practically bounced out of your seat. She got up from the table and opened the door to a side room, snapping her fingers and humming to herself. 

Noticing a pot of purple flowers, your rose from your seat to inspect them. They were healthy and had enough sunlight. You gave a happy bounce of approval, then sauntered over to Gepard, who was still standing stiffly. 

“So that’s the sister you told me about, huh?” You smiled cheerfully. 

“Indeed. That’s her,” Gepard nodded in agreement. 

“I can't believe you have a MUSICIAN for a sister. She's so energetic!”

“I guess the only thing we have in common are our looks,” he mused. His eyes locked onto yours and you giggled.

“Pfft. You got that right,” 

“Miss Serval really is the epitome of exciting!” Molly called from her desk. You pumped a fist in silent agreement. 

“I guess you could say that. Although she can be a little overbearing sometimes.” Gepard sighed and looked off into the distance. “I'm really sorry to be dragging you out here on a work night,” 

“It’s okay, really. I could use a bit more excitement. My life doesn't need to revolve around the flower shop, after all,” you reassured him. 

———

When Serval came out of the side room with her guitar, everything clicked into place. 

No wonder her adorable little brother was being so sheepish! (Albeit, only a little more than usual.)

It’s because he was feeling shy, Serval deduced. Every time you looked him in the eyes, he looked away and his ears turned pink. She almost cooed out loud, giving him a pitying glance. This was TOO CUTE. 

A raucous grin spread across her face, which she quickly squashed before deciding her next move.

You turned to face the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. 

“And here—,” she announced with a grand gesture—, “Is my magnum opus!” She laid her guitar on the table proudly.

You could not, for the life of you, see how the machine in front of you resembled a guitar in any way. It was large and avant garde, with a long black handle and tubes sticking off the side of the body.

It was still the coolest thing you had ever seen, though. 

“Wow. wow wow wow WOW!!” You gasped in amazement. “Can I-- can I touch it?!”

“Go ahead! Who am I to stop someone from admiring fine craftsmanship?” Serval chuckled lightly. You inspected the guitar with so much excitement, she could have sworn your head was about to explode.

“Anyhow, I need to check something in the back just for a quiiick second,” she said offhandedly, fishing through her pockets and pulling out a key made of brass. “C’mon Molly!”

Serval yanked the startled girl by the hand unceremoniously causing her pen to drop on the floor. She turned backwards for a split second and gave Gepard a wink.

Gepard gulped. He’s seen that look before. 

His rebellious sister was DEFINITELY planning something. 

When she returned, the smile on her face was even brighter. Blinding, even. Molly was nowhere to be seen.

“The mechanics are really well done!” You said excitedly. “I've never seen anything like it. Repairing minecarts and robots wasn’t anywhere near this level of intricacy,”

“Whoa! You really know what you're talking about, new friend! You know, if you're ever interested in working with us, we could always use an extra pair of hands in the workshop,” 

“I would LOVE that,” you replied. “I’ll have to adjust my work schedule first, though. I took on a few too many hours this week and tomorrow is my only free day. I was planning on using it to see the city,”

“It's no sweat! Come in anytime it strikes your fancy. Actually, the workshop happens to be closed that day too, would you be up to touring the city together?” 

You nodded vigorously. 

Serval grinned and clasped your hands with her own. You exchanged contacts, while Gepard pulled her aside to whisper something in her ear. She then promptly elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt in pain, Then out of the blue, your phone started dinging incessantly.

“Um, I don't think that's ME doing that—,” Serval said nervously. You furrowed your eyebrows, raising the screen closer to your face to get a better look. 

It was Vaska. They must have wanted you to come back to help close up shop. The sky outside had shifted from an orange to a deep blue, dotted sparsely with stars. You sighed and accepted the fact that you had to return to your ordinary flower-filled life.

Your disappointment was abruptly interrupted by a huge crash coming from the back room. Your phone almost flew into the air as everyone scrambled to check for the source of the noise. 

There Molly stood, covered head to toe in soot, coughing up a storm, with bits of machinery scattered everywhere. A few stray pieces rolled off the table the machine was sitting on. 

You made sure to watch your step as you clung to the walls to keep your balance.

“Oh, by Qlipoth,” Serval covered her face with her hand, closing her eyes. “I forgot we had an experiment running! Molly, are you all right?” She bent down, picking up some stray papers and rushed over to the girl. Serval dusted her assistant off worriedly.

You began to reach for some of the stray parts scattered on the floor, but Gepard held out a hand to stop you. 

“That's not a good idea. It's hard to see sharp edges with everything covered in soot right now. Let me take care of it,”

You blinked at him in surprise. 

“Well then, I guess it's a good thing I carry these around with me then!” You pulled out a pair of thick gloves from your apron triumphantly, and proceeded to carry on picking up the shrapnel. When Molly had been sufficiently cleaned up, Serval groaned. 

“The Department of Education wants these results in three days,” she spoke. “It'll take me all night to get this baby up and running again— I'm sorry, but I can't make it to our little outing tomorrow,”

You shook your head frantically. “I'm so sorry this happened!” You sighed. “If I hadn't distracted you—,”

“That's not it at all!” Serval interjected. “I can be a little scatterbrained sometimes. This kind of stuff happens all the time.” She gave a small laugh. “Geppie can attest to that,” 

He blanched, almost dropping an armful of tubes.

“I'm really, really sorry.” She bowed her head. “Gepard, could you take them instead? Please? I know you have this week off.” She placed her hands together in a praying motion and closed her eyes. He let out a small sound of surprise.

“It’s… not an issue,”

Serval’s eyes flew back open.

“Great! I’ll leave you two to it then!” Her old enthusiasm was back in the blink of an eye and she resumed sweeping up the room. Gepard led you back to the main entrance.

“Okay, I know I said I could use some excitement, but not THAT much excitement,” you said quietly.

“I suppose that makes two of us,” he replied. 

“Do things really blow up around here that often?”

“They sure do. She says it's all part of the process,” he spoke. “I hope that doesn't scare you too much,” 

“Not at all, actually. I've seen my fair share of explosions,” You chuckled. 

“That's a relief,”

Your phone rang again, and this time you answered it. You put it to your ear only to be deafened by Vaska’s screaming.

“The heck is taking you so long???” She barked. You could hear the clamor of your co-workers in the background.

“Gahh! Sorry, sorry! I’ll be right over,” you said hurriedly. 

“You better be,” she huffed impatiently. You hung up with a groan. As much as you hated it, she was right. Your duties for the night were far from over. 

“Oh! That reminds me,” you piped up. “Gepard, did I get your number? Wait… do you have a phone?”

“That would be a no and a yes.” He ran a hand across his hip, only to realize he didn't have it with him.

“That's fine.” You grabbed a marker from your pocket, and scanned the room for anything to write on.

You decided you'd rather not risk a catastrophe by grabbing a random piece of paper. Instead, this would work just as well. 

“Crud. Gepard, could I see your hand for a second?” He held out his right arm, the one with the gauntlet on it.

“The other one, silly!” You giggled. He complied.

The soldier flinched in surprise as you rolled back the sleeve on his left arm, holding his wrist with your other hand so you could press the ink onto his skin.

“You have my number now! Don't worry, it'll wash off pretty easily. Anyways, I'm looking forward to our outing tomorrow. I’ll see you then!” You said cheerfully.

“You as well," he called out to you as you rushed out the door. “Travel safely,” 

But then he froze. 

Wait just a minute. 

Isn’t Serval still banned from the Education Committee?

He pondered this thought for a moment, and then chuckled to himself. Well, now I know what that look was for,

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Bamboo for a Bashful Captain - (Gepard x Reader) - Chapter 1

Summary: You’ve recently moved from Belobog’s Underworld and gotten a job as a florist. One day, a man wearing a full suit of armor stops by, and you, (fearing for the safety of the flowerpots) decide to approach him.

You never suspected that he would fall head-over-heels so quickly. Or so hard.

▸ Genre(s): Fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 15k in total, 1.9k for this Chapter

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: Food mention, possible ooc, reader is shorter than Gepard and slightly fem coded, explicit pronouns aren’t used but Serval calls you a doll,

A/N: The text editor tried assassinating me SO many times when I was writing this.

MASTERLIST (also link to series)

The Belobog sunlight was warm on the captain of the Silvermane Guards’ face. Gepard was covered in what could only be described as a mountain of blankets, hastily tossed over his sleeping form after returning from an extended mission on the front lines. 

The Fragmentum had never taken a break until recently, when the source of the corrosion was discovered and disposed of. There was still work to be done, of course, but Gepard’s workload had been significantly reduced. This left him feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion due to his regular routine being interrupted. 

Hearing some commotion from the hallway of the Landau Estate, Gepard stirred and sat up, a weary expression on his face. He raised a hand to rub his eyes but was unpleasantly surprised by stiff metal coming into contact with his cheek. 

He looked in the full-length mirror, realizing he had forgotten to take most of his armor off before going to bed, as unflattering red indentations remained on his face and neck from metal pressing into his skin. 

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he bent down to put on his home-appropriate loafers. It honestly felt like eons had passed since the Captain had woken up in his own home. He smiled to himself. How he had missed the smell of old books, wood, and leather. 

Gepard suddenly stood up with newfound energy to start the day, but the back of his head collided with the wooden shelf next to his bed. He doubled over, grunted in pain, and gingerly ran a hand through his blond hair.

That’s gonna leave a mark, he groaned inwardly. He looked back up at the shelf to see the flowerpot he began taking care of several weeks ago teetering on the edge. Too groggy to react, he watched it tip over and fall onto the hardwood floor, letting out a loud crash. Ceramic shards and dirt went everywhere. 

Gepard gave it an exasperated stare.

It was long dead anyways, He sighed. I forgot to ask Pela to take care of it again,

Rapid knocking could be heard at his door, and a housekeeper barged in. He was breathing as if he had leapt up the stairs four-at-a-time. 

“Young Master Gepard, is everything all right? I heard a crash,” he said, clutching his duster nervously.

The Captain looked at the broken pot on the floor wistfully.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said monotonously. “What’s for breakfast?”

———

Gepard had long gotten used to heads turning as he walked through the streets of Belobog. 

He didn’t necessarily mind it, though. Someone of his position would be bound to catch a few glances. If it meant he could keep protecting the city, then so be it. Being able to hear the carefree chatter of citizens made his chest swell with pride. Parents and grandparents alike would wave to him, and of course he would wave back. (Although Serval would always chide him for not smiling enough.)

While on his way to buy a new flowerpot, Gepard spotted an elderly woman carrying a bag of groceries. She turned around to face him quickly, startled by the sound of heavy boots clanking behind her. 

“Can I give you a hand with that, ma’am?” He inquired, offering his hands out to take it from her. 

“Oh, you’re too kind. Thank you so, so much,” she smiled up at him. The woman carefully gave him the paper bag that was filled with miscellaneous vegetables. 

“All in a day’s work,” Gepard replied. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and walked her to the entrance of a building, all the while a leek poked him in the face. 

“I’m so glad we have you as the Captain of the Silvermane Guards,” she said sweetly as she unlocked the door to her home. “Such a handsome and nice fellow,” 

Gepard shook his head humbly, trying to squash the dusting of pink that spread across his face. “Please, you flatter me too much,” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him behind her wire-framed glasses, humming in response. 

“Well, I’m sure one day…” she mused. “You’ll meet someone who thinks so too,” He kept his face blank, neither agreeing or disagreeing with her. 

“On your way now, miss. Be careful.” Gepard gave her a polite wave goodbye as she entered the building, and continued on his way.

———

You knew people on the surface could be weird, but not this weird. 

You were just about to join your co-worker, Vaska, on break when you heard the shopkeeper’s bell ring. A man with blonde hair stepped through the entrance, practically armed to the teeth. He wore a spotless soldier’s coat decorated with blue and gold accents, along with an unusual looking metal gauntlet on his right arm. He took care not to bump anything on the way in.

It would be a disaster if he did. 

What’s a soldier doing in a flower shop? You pondered as you fidgeted with your pen absentmindedly. Natasha would’ve strangled someone with that much metal on if she caught them in her clinic,

He walked over to the corner and began browsing the selection of ceramic pots you had to offer. The other customers seemed to acknowledge him and respectfully step aside so he could make his way around easier. 

You realized you were staring a hole into the back of his head and tore your gaze away from him, embarrassed. 

He looks confused, you thought. Maybe he’s buying a gift for someone? I guess I could give him some advice.

You ventured out from behind the desk and approached him, right as he picked up a pot with his heavily armored hand.

Please don’t crush it, so help me Qlipoth!! The voice inside your head shrieked. You clutched at your notepad so hard you thought it might rip in half. It’ll be on MY payroll!!

“Hi there! Can I help you?” You interjected, with the friendliest smile you could muster. The man swiveled his head towards you in surprise. His eyes were startlingly blue. 

“Oh… Yes, I could use some help,” he said. “I’ve been trying my hand at growing flowers for a while now, but it never really seems to work out,” He sighed. “Would you happen to have any advice?”

Your expression became one of pity. Oh! This poor soul! You lamented. Of course you’d help him chase his flower-growing dreams!

“Well, you could start by taking off the gauntlet when you garden,” you teased. “Flowers can get scared easily,”

“Are you serious?” He glanced worriedly at the hand that held the pot. 

For a follower of the Preservation, I can't seem to keep anything alive, he thought.

“No! No, no, of course not! I’m sorry.” You shook your hands as if to clear up the misunderstanding while holding back a giggle. He seemed sweet. 

He let out a relieved sigh. 

“It’s just that you don't see a man covered head to toe in metal come into the store every day. I’m sorry for teasing you about it.” You grinned at him and he cleared his throat sheepishly. “Anyways, what have you been trying to grow?” 

“Well, I had a pot of Solarflowers but I’ve been rather occupied as of late. I’ve had people take care of my plants before, but I would like something that I can handle by myself,” he replied. You hummed.

“If you don’t have too much free time, caring for something routinely may be difficult,” you rattled off. “I admire your perseverance though! Flowers just take a lot of nurturing.” You rested your chin on your hand deliberately.

“Wait a minute… I have just the thing for you! Be right back!” 

You darted into the back room, quick to push apart the piles of boxes filled with flowers. 

Aha! There it is! You almost jumped for joy as you spotted a small plant in a burlap sack. You practically ran back out while holding it up for him to see. 

“Is that… a tree?”

He stared down at it with a peculiar expression. The small, woody plant with only three leaves to call its own said nothing. 

“Nope! It’s a Summershade Bamboo,” you responded cheerily. “I know flowers are your main goal, but you should give this one a try!” He took it from you and examined it, tilting it every which way with his eyebrows furrowed.

“These are tougher than flowers. As long as it has water, it’ll be fine,” you were quick to add. 

“That sounds promising,” he nodded down at you. “I think I’ll buy it,” 

You two made your way to the counter, imaginary confetti poppers going off in your head triumphantly. 

My first real recommendation! You had to physically stop yourself from pumping your fists into the air as you walked behind the counter.

He set down the plant, you fastened a string around it to keep the sack from falling off, and then whipped out your notepad from the front pouch in your uniform. 

“How exactly did you become so good with flowers, anyways?” The man asked, tilting his head. You barked out a laugh while scribbling something down on the paper, remembering just how lucky you were to get this job.

“Oh, believe me, I have killed my fair share of flowers.” You nodded towards the door to the back room, where your co-workers were lounging and drinking the latest tea. “We all have. It’s something that comes with a LOT of trial and error— in fact, a couple months ago I had never even seen one!” 

“Is that so?” He was taken aback. 

“Yep! I’d just moved here from the Underworld, and was fresh out of a job,” you reminisced. “ I had been looking for weeks on end, finally I stumbled across this place! It was so beautiful, I just HAD to apply,” 

You glanced around quickly and leaned in to whisper, “The owner is sort of strict, but she offered me a place to stay. I couldn’t be more grateful,” 

“Is that so? Well then, Belobog is happy to have you,” he said, offering out his right hand for you to shake. “I’m Gepard. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” 

Realizing he had his gauntlet on, he began to retract his hand. You stopped him, almost tipping over the desk to shake it heartily. 

“And I’m (Y/N). No need to be so stiff, it’s a pleasure to meet you too!” A bright smile spread across your cheeks. Gepard felt his breath catch in his throat, much to his surprise.

“Your total comes to 15 Shield,” you said, handing him a yellow square of paper along with the bamboo. “I wrote a list of tips on how to take care of it too! This one will survive. I'm sure of it,”

You beamed at him. “Come back anytime if you need any more advice!” 

Gepard felt the corners of his mouth rise into a smile. 

“I’m sure I will,” 

———

As the Captain was watering his bamboo plant that night, the moons of Jarilo-VI caught his attention through the window. They were shining brightly tonight. His mind wandered back to just how bright your smile was.

Gepard shook himself out of his thoughts, ignoring his heart beating faster than usual, and placed the newly potted bamboo on his bookshelf.

So it couldn’t be knocked over by a clumsy captain like himself, of course.

He sighed. The Captain opened an old, tattered book for a while before turning off the lamp and tucking into the covers for the night.

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Im gonna be talking about my fics without putting them on the same reblog because the links to my masterlist keep BREAKING. Anyways, I have a BFABC playlist. I didn’t choose it because I thought the vibes matched up, I chose it because I just happened to be listening to those songs at the time. I don’t think it actually suits what im writing about though. if you’re curious, check out juniper vale, chevy, Cody fry, and tiffi

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

this was how the idea for “bamboo for a bashful captain” started.