#Rainproof | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

briseroyawritingsblog · 6 months ago

Text

𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. established relationship, shopping trip, dinner date at home, SMUT/ protected sex, anal sex, soft sex, lots of french kissing, size kink, breeding kink, too many feelings (reader) life in 2051, fluffy things and etc.

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

dividers by @cafekitsune & @anitalenia 🤍

“Why don’t you just move to my bed..?” Logan wondered caressing your hand softly. Thumb drawing circles on your knuckles “Would you like me to do that Sir?” Looking up into his eyes you read his emotions. He nodded “Yes princess..” batting your eyelashes he smiled pulling you closer to him. “I shall move to rest next to you Sir” confirming upon his lovely request your arms swung themselves around his neck. “I will take a shower bub, I forgot about the movie.” cheeks heating up at his words replaying the events that happened few minutes ago. “I cannot refuse you Sir.. I love you” Logan cooed against your lips kissing you slowly and long savouring the taste of your glossy lips. “And I love you..” hearing those words again from him you felt pulsing in your chest. Warmth spreading through your entire body. “I will prepare fresh pyjamas for you. Would you like me to change the sheets as well?” Suggesting while your dainty little fingers scratched his bearded cheeks. “That would be nice” he hummed watching you bat your curly eyelashes at him his heart picking up the speed pulse spiking. The sheer beauty of you “We are one— joined souls… forever” logan smirked. “Are we now princess?”

“What else do we need?” He chuckled softly watching you load the cart with groceries.

“A lot. I plan to cook only the best for you Sir” your lips curled into a soft smile. You wore a black maid dress, a rainproof coat and knee high boots. Your clothes arrived delivered and securely packaged in boxes.

“You do enough..” he whispered in your ear standing behind you as you pushed the cart. You melted into his embrace kissing his cheek softly. Some people nearby mistook you for a real human being— women complimented you. They complimented your black long locks, until you removed your glasses which covered your eyes. You had sclera hues, and for humans that was scary. You adored children so if they approached you you knelt to their height and spoke with them. Logan saw it, he only watched in awe. How was that even possible he held so much love for you? You let the children touch your hair and your hands. “One day I want to be like you!” Little girl said with a giggle.

“Come on sweetheart..” Logan extended his hand towards you when he saw security guards nearby. “We had a complaint that she’s a robot. We do not allow them to stay here or let alone engage with people. They can be dangerous” you looked at Logan gently hiding behind him lowering your eyes putting your glasses back on. “We are leaving—” he grunted shooting a death glare towards the guard forming a fist. You stopped him cupping his knuckles feeling the sharp tips of his pushed out claws against your palm “That’s alright Sir, we are leaving now” after paying and bagging the groceries together you remained silent. The child told you that she wanted to be like you one day— she thought that you were a human being. You wanted that so much— to be real for him. For your love. The thing was people mistook you for the failed kind of robots, you wanted to be better. Those who rebelled against humans you were not like them you couldn’t be ever.

“We will have the groceries delivered. Whatever you want princess. I don’t want them to judge you or stare at you. It angers me” Logan admitted as you chopped the vegetables for his dinner. “I completely understand Sir. I just wanted to be with you” you admitted and Logan sighed softly. “And I want to be with you. Every moment I get to be with you— I wouldn’t change it for the world. If anything happens to you” you put down the knife clashing distance with him locking your arms around him kissing the side of your neck snuggling in his arms closing your eyes inhaling his scent. The warm woodsy kind— your senses taking in every part of his body. His own arms coiled around you kissing the top of your head pulling you even closer to him until he lifted you your thighs wrapping themselves around his waist clinging to him. “Don’t ever let me go Sir” you blinked facing him your noses touching. “I can think of many reasons to keep you around princess” a soft smirk painted his features large palms cupping and holding your butt slowly walking around the kitchen with you. Hearts forming before your eyes leaning in kissing him long letting his tongue penetrate your lips. You moaned raking your fingers through his dark mane pulling him closer your lips being engulfed by him tasting the aroma of his whiskey breath.

You finished plating his dinner, steak with tons of veggies and a side of fries. Sitting opposite him opening his laptop while he ate his dinner complimenting every bite how good it was praising you on. “Sir? Shall I respond to your emails from work? You have over 100 unread.” Your cheeks blushed at his lovely compliments. “Come here.. fuck the emails..” he leaned back on his chair sipping on his drink. Eyes hooded, face full of affection for you. “I’m just a fuckin’ fool in love with you” he sighed taking your hand once you walked over to him. He pulled you to his lap so you straddled his hips. You lied your cheek on his shoulder draping your arm around his other shoulder closing your eyes humming a song to him. “I love you just as much—” whispering your mouth cupped his ear kissing him there.

Something occurred that night. While you rested on the bed, your eyelids shut something formed in the middle of your chest. A red ball of energy— right under your rib cage. The ball of warm energy started to pulsate. It became redder and redder to the point anyone could see the wires under your skin. You were not aware of what was happening you were completely resting and recharging. The light in your chest formed a shape of human heart. It was beating faster and faster until it found its own pace. Logan woke up at the red light in the room, he sat up next to you placing a hand on your chest you were warm. Rubbing your cheek with the back of his knuckles softly, how could a robot become half human? Unplugging your charging system he scooped you in his arms holding you placing his cheek on your forehead. “Is there something I can do for you Sir?” Your eyes fluttered open and he remained silent. The light in your chest faded away and you didn’t feel any different. “Logan..” you reached for his forehead kissing it. “What?” He whispered not believing you said his name for the first time. “Say it again.” furrowing your eyebrows you nuzzled your face against his neck “James..” his face softened. “You said my name” nodding softly “Yes.. you’re my boyfriend” bringing you down on the bed cupping your cheek he kissed your mouth softly. “You have a heart” closing your eyes placing a hand over his own heart listening to his heartbeat “It beats for you”

— Love Overdrive —

“James..” gasping for air your hands clutched the silky sheets beneath you as you found yourself under Logan. His large body shielding you, letting you feel his weight. His arms were under you as he rocked his hips into you from behind. His ragged breath coated your ear as he filled you out. “I love you..” you let out the softest moan but soon his hips picked up the speed sheating his protected cock deeper in you feeling how you coat him in your creamy essence and god he lost his mind burying his face against the back of your hair letting out the softest grunts and whimpers as he grabbed your breasts “I’m here.. I-I’m here.. I’m yours” you felt his emotions, you tamed him. He was so lost and you found him. “Fuck.. fuck…” he rasped parting your thighs even more as you were on your knees making sure to hide all of his cock in your warm centre. “You better stay princess.. need to tame your old man..” he breathed kissing your shoulder, your lips remained parted in pleasure. Taking his cock out of your wet inviting centre, rubbing the swollen mushroom tip on your other hole which seemed so tight and god you were so soft. “James” you panted looking over your shoulder as he grabbed the base of his protected cock prodding your puckered hole. You cried out— “Fuck” he groaned. Hearts formed in your sclera eyes as you bit your lower lip whining at the feel of him. Clenching around him the moment he slid right whole inside of you he gasped. “Holy f-” grunting he pulled you to kneel up between his parted thighs. Your back leaning on his chest as he grabbed your pussy from the front holding it snapping his hips against your butt stretching your other hole repeatedly. You mewled wrapping your arm around his neck touching his hair. “Oh James, Logan.. ughhh.. mmmm” you let out the softest moans and mewls which spurred him on fucking into you quicker and quicker not holding back. “You feel so good.. tightest holes I ever fucked, ugh” whispering in your ear you licked your lower lip tilting your face to him leaning the back of your head on his shoulder kissing him. Your tongues glided over each other and his thrusts became faster, harder. As if he was trying to climb inside of you “Mine.. mine mine..” sliding two of his fingers in your wet mound from the front he remained pounding your other hole until he couldn’t anymore. The moment he stilled and released all of his tension with a broken whimper. Getting rid of his used condom he reached for a new one, making sure it was correctly rolled over his swollen cock which dripped with so much cum.

“Lay down..” you breathed watching him do so climbing on top of him locking your hand around his warm length pumping it. “Shit..” he breathed chest heaving eyes hooded with desire again. His claws slowly pushing out “Shhh..” licking your lower lip you sitting on him completely touching his shiny claws with your fingers bringing them to your mouth your tongue dancing on his middle one “Ughh..” he smiled at you carefully gripping your thigh as you nestled him right in your honeypot. “I love when you orgasm” you whimpered moaning with every move of your hips as you gyrated yourself on his length your thighs rubbing on his own “Because I’m the cause of it.. I love when you push out these claws because the pleasure is too much..” his mouth parted “Fuck you’re.. you’re the cause baby.. one day you will carry my little wolves” you nodded biting your lower lip again speeding up your hips fucking him just right. “Yes Sir.. yes.. ughhh yess..” fingers tangling around his dogtags pulling on them gently you whined as he became even harder for you close to cum again reaching behind you to place your hands on his knees you rode him until he came and it was an eruption.

“Princess..”

(Any grammatical errors I apologise in advance)

315 notes · View notes

rowdy317 · 2 months ago

Text

Rugby Muscle-the team's new rainproof latex uniforms

#ai generated #ai digital art #ai hunks #ai muscle #ai hunk #bodybuilder #clothed bodybuilder #bodybuilders #bodybuilding #extremely muscled men

212 notes · View notes

kivino · 2 months ago

Text

MEANT FOR EACH OTHER || ZOMBIE AU || KÖNIG X READER || PART III

sum. A deep-seated paranoia takes hold of you. Every hour of the day, you feel like you’re being watched. Followed. And you’re not wrong. So observant, so beautiful and perfect, but always dismissed by your group, left behind, not paid even a sliver of attention. How tragic. It’s okay though. König is here to do right by you. F̶̖̓͆̕͝o̷̢͚̲̬̍͠r̶͖̝̾̊̍̾e̸͔͇̣̓̈̊̾v̶̛͚͕́͗͝e̷̤̻͔͎̅̑̽r̴̝̬̩̘͒̒̃ ̴͔͆͋̈͝ȃ̷̢̭̯n̶̡̜̫͚̉̌̊̒ḍ̷̩̲̹͝ ̷̖̔͌͘ả̶̡̬̥͊l̶͕̇̓̄w̴̺̥̋̂͠ä̷̢̢̝́̒͗y̴̳̦̙̕ŝ̶͕̋̀.��̝̱͒̌̅̆

tags. zombie au (twdg inspired), stalking, obsessive behavior, themes of paranoia, fear, distrust, isolation, canon-typical violence, könig being a creep, blood, gore, violence, mutilation, graphic description of corpses

w.c. 5.7k (i know it’s too long, shut up)

a.n. i finished it surprisingly fast for the size of this thing, damn. really thought the chapter was going to be shorter, but oh well. at least i did everything i planned for it lol. enjoy!

taglist. @ilovekentonanami, @skullyz1, since you asked to be tagged, here you go! thank you for your comments <333

|| PART 1 || || PART 2 ||

jjk masterlist || cod masterlist || ao3 link || ko-fi

Be careful of what you wish for, you would’ve told yourself around a couple of hours ago, when the zip of your tent went up with a final sour “zap!”, followed by your harsh, but necessary decision-making. You wanted out of the group. Laying there, under an old chequered blanket you stole from somebody’s unlocked car with busted windows, you were mulling over how you should do it. Waking up earlier than everyone, quickly packing up the necessities and taking a chunk out of food and medicine supply, or going out with a bang, picking a fight in the morning, when everyone’s already up and running around the camp, cooking, talking, cleaning weapons or mending clothes.

You weren’t sure what was better but decided to leave it up to the chance. If you wake up with the crack of pink dawn, you’ll disappear like smoke, perhaps leaving some traces and shocked or fuming Scott to tell the group about the argument. And if you were to find yourself stirring awake with the sound of voices that were once near and dear to you, you’ll snap. No regrets, no holdbacks, and definitely no pity or regard for their feelings. Giving your group the taste of their own medicine was the best you could do to give them the reality check they so desperately needed in their delusion of safety. You went to sleep with the thoughts of possible revenge or quiet disappearance into the sunrise, hearing so much shifting through the thin sheet of sleep, you'd almost assume somebody else was right beside you in the tent.

All of this was the plan before you were awakened by blood-curdling screams that were way too close to be yet another nightmare haunting you. Suddenly, all the terrible dreams that you got used to seeing turned reality. Blood turned to ice, and muscle to stone for a brief moment of confusion, trying to discern whether your mind was playing tricks on you, like always, toying with such cruelty and satisfaction one would think you’re a masochist. Yet another scream pierced the stale darkness of the storage house, while the sound commotion beyond the protection of the thin rainproof fabric was lost on you. This moment seemed to last for a whole eternity. Uncertain limbo before taking action. Realisation that your life was in immediate danger. That your group must be hurt or scared right this moment, for them to be screaming like that. Somewhere among the screams you even managed to discern your name. Which meant only one thing.

It was here. All those months of nightly torment, of getting ignored, dismissed, ridiculed, all the clues that were missed by them but not by you, never by you, were leading up to this.

You were right.

You were fucking right.

Maybe you would’ve smiled, you would’ve laughed, hysterical, content, and just so goddamn happy, revelling in the fact that this entire time, you were not seeing or hearing things. That you were not the crazy one. That this was all worth it in the end. You didn’t notice the hot burn of your eyes, the moisture that grazed your cheeks, how breathing suddenly became much harder, as you cautiously opened the zip of your tent, letting only your hand grab your boots and your backpack, full of nothing but bare necessities.

Those couple of minutes, shoving things into compartments of your backpack grabbing your trusty knife, pulling on your clothes and jacket, were all blurring together, impossible to separate one action from the other. You would’ve loved to take the tent with you, for how surprisingly good it held up in the rain or contained the heat. You wouldn’t have minded taking a plush toy that showed up near you on the morning after your supply run to the mall nearby, causing you to have a meltdown so bad you wouldn’t step outside the storage house for days at a time, paranoid that It was there, ready to sink its nasty, ephemeral claws deep into your flesh and crawl away, as you writhe and cry for help with no one to hear you. You also would’ve loved to take Jay’s gun, as the last “fuck you” to the man. But you couldn’t. Too much time wasted being cocky would mean not only theirs, but your death as well. And you’ll be damned if you rot in the same hole as this human garbage that saw you as nothing but a lunatic, with no worth to them.

The thought of Jay’s gun brought you back to earth for but a second.

Why are there no shots being fired?

You had weapons in stock, you had some ammo, even if all of this was not the best quality, and you even had former military among you, for crying out loud, all of that gave the group a bit of an edge it needed. Especially during scuffles with other survivors, raiders or walkers, which started to become a more frequent problem in the area. Almost as if being led by something to your campsite. No… No. That would be ridiculous, right?

The agitated yelling seemed to be coming from one of the doors off to the side, your exit seemed safe. You had no clue if it was open, but even so, you only needed to crawl out of your tent, make a hook to grab your canteen and another backpack, full of food, taking a right afterwards. Perhaps it will take you some extra time to open the gate to escape, but even so, despite the trembling hands and difficulty breathing, you were confident you could make it. This is it. Your chance to get away in the chaos. There won’t be another.

Your shaky fingers grab onto the zip, pulling it down frantically, with no regard to how the fabric is snagged by the cheap plastic mechanism, ready to finally face what you were scared of, and craved more than anything – freedom. Endless night sky, camping out in the woods, not having to count and weigh every word when saying something, not having to do the work other people push onto you, and some solitude, with no one to bother you about being, supposedly, “a liability”… All of this sounded like heaven to your utterly exhausted, drained mind.

Yet, you’re not given a chance even to get on your knees or crawl out of the tent. A breath is torn out of your chest, when you’re grabbed by the flaps of your jacket and pulled out in a rather rude manner, with a grip so strong you think you might be heading straight to afterlife from the safety of your tent.

“You piece of shit-eating fucking garbage! You motherfucking fuck!” In front of you is Jay, fuming, splattered with dirt and…red. So much fucking red, on his hair, on his face, neck, and this metallic smell mixed with the familiar sweetness of rotting flesh coming off of him, you think you’re about to puke when the older man’s face lingers in front of yours for more than a couple of seconds. The way you reacted to seeing him was probably not the most pleasing thing to him as well – you see a scowl scrunch his features into a likeness of an enraged moose. “You fucking answer when you’re being talked to!” Jay shakes you, almost as if that would help you come into your senses, instead of losing them. “Where is Scott? Where is our fucking ammo? All the weapons?” He practically screams the questions at you.

You didn’t know. Why was Jay asking you all of this? You’re the stupid fuck in charge of them, not me – you think to yourself, and you don’t know how that’s possible, but the sunburnt face in front of you scrunches even further, skin getting redder. Whoops. Must’ve said that out loud. Well, Jay will know better than to drag people around by the collar when he wants to actually get some information out of them, instead of being insulted.

Your blurry eyes drift to the right, head softly lulling along with them. Tom, a man in his sixties, is pushing closed one of the entrances to the storage house, but he’s clearly being overpowered by all the walkers with their unrelenting assault from the outside, rotting hands not letting him close the doors without snapping the pliable, sickly yellow bones in half. You know the man could do it easily, but not when the arms with falling off, decaying flesh are so numerous they’re starting to push the doors open. Scott, his son, is nowhere to be seen after your argument, which happened, you’d imagine, a couple of hours ago, give or take. You’d be upset about it, if you could muster up a single fuck to give after all the pleasantries Scott barked at you in the middle of sneaking off somewhere after the curfew.

After the struggling Tom your eyes fix on Rory, tired, lanky figure kneeling over someone, clearly resembling Amy with her shaved head, even in the stuffy, suffocating dark, soaked with blood and panicked screams of your companions. You can see a pool of something even darker than the air within the storage house, gathering beneath Amy’s body on the ground. Rory’s hands are soaked with the same dark liquid, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that Amy is most likely dying a scary and painful death. Which is a shame. You liked Amy the most, and dissatisfaction with her did not stem any deeper than not feeling up to doing chores she’d pile up on your plate to prove your usefulness to her husband.

Tiny was the last who your eyes fell on, the tall man trying to hack off the limbs of walkers with a dull, rusty hatchet that was usually used to chop firewood by all of you. Yet you saw his eyes frantically bounce to the entrance beside your tent, almost as if Tiny was ready to make a run for it any minute now. Wouldn’t be his first time anyway. You heard his drunk ranting about deserting from an evacuation of civilians from one of the bigger cities. Well, knowing that the hungry hands reaching for living flesh were minutes away from shredding anyone within the storage house to pieces also made you want to run until your lungs collapse. After punching Jay’s lights out, of course.

“What the fuck did you do to Scott?! Answer me!” Jay shakes you even more, to ensure that you become even more dizzy courtesy of his grip. But it’s so ridiculous, right? You didn’t do anything to him. Why are you being blamed for his disappearance?

“Let me go!” You thought your protest would be weak, nothing, compared to the vigour with which Jay’s fingers hung onto your jacket, the collar painfully digging into the skin of your neck, almost as if you were a puppet, commanded by the most talentless piece of shit of a puppeteer. Surprisingly, your hands, clasped around the man’s wrists cause his grip to momentarily lose its strength. You involuntarily stepped back, wrestling with the man who only gripped onto you tighter, as if letting you go in this dire situation would doom you all.

König’s rage blinded him. How dare this rubbish touch you? He doesn’t have a right to lay a single fucking finger on you, and here he is, gripping your clothes, ready to shake the living hell out of you. König felt the need to rid the man of arms, but not before tearing away every nail and finger on his hands. No. No, König won’t let him prevent you from saving yourself. Crawling up to his usual vantage point for the last time was a mistake. Of course, nobody would look up in the chaos, but he knew he should’ve stayed on the lower level, with you. So something like this wouldn’t happen. But this wasn’t your fault, how were you supposed to know you’ll get pulled out of your tent by this weakling? It’s okay! It’s okay… König can fix this. All of this. A deep breath is sucked in through his hood, soaked with sweat and condensation. His finger rests on the trigger comfortable, slotting where it belongs. For a moment, it feels comforting. Like home. Despite finally doing something so…oddly calming, something he kept from his life before the apocalypse, he can hear the way blood thrummed within his ears, heart beating like crazy.

König takes aim. Confident and determined to end this fast. Sights trailing fast and zeroing in on the dark, prematurely greying head of the man clutching your jacket. He can feel his insides writhing with impatience, hurrying him along to finally get rid of the bastard who wouldn’t let you run away to safety. Who was endangering his darling, so needlessly and cruelly, when he could’ve just rolled over and died to make it all easier. But then König snaps back from the bloodlust, blinding him so deliciously. You shouldn’t have to see all the blood and suffering. He ought to protect you from it.

Despite all this happening right in front of your eyes, you feel detached. As if all the tears, terror, death, and panic were not real. Like the assurance of you being right this whole time was almost enough for you to accept your death. The noise was becoming louder each second. The cacophony of moaning and gurgling, paired with blunt, heavy fists and open palms hammering on the metal sheet walls, a fitting chaotic percussion for a painful death, Amy’s sobs and wails of pain, paired with Tiny and Tom screaming their lungs out at each other, unable to close the doors, as more and more of the walkers pour inside the storage house like an undead, rotting tsunami.

“I was right, Jay.” You whisper, with eyes darting from side to side, observing the utter mess that was happening behind the man. And he didn’t even know. “It’s here.” The phrase is elusive, but terrifying to the man nonetheless. You don’t miss the way cold sweat glints right above his brow, or the way his expression stretches into a mask of confusion, then horror. He didn’t know what “It” was, but the realization about being wrong this whole time was a source of terror enough. Perhaps he was assuming something, or putting words in your mouth right this moment. You didn’t care. Your nails and fingers dug into the rough skin of Jay’s palms, attempting to make him let you go once again.

“What the fuck did you do?!” He yells, voice breaking midway through the sentence. Your name rings out from Jay, hollow and soulless, full of terror, like you were the one to bring this destruction upon all of them. Like they weren’t the ones to ignore every sign of something being wrong. You didn’t care anymore. It was all their fault, and you did everything you could to convince them you were not losing your marbles from having to live a life more akin to an animal, than a human being.

You tried to yank yourself out of his grip once again, nails leaving crescent indents in Jay’s skin, while he refused to let go, and just dug in his heels deeper into the ground. Your palms slide over his meaty wrists, attempting to pull them off of you with all the strength you could muster, but to no avail. The man growls and roars, keeps screaming and you and blaming for everything bad that’s ever happened to the group. You try to duck and break out of his hold, but he doesn’t let you, loathing and anger in his eyes almost burning you, as Jay’s palms are inching higher and higher with mad desperation. You can feel fear suffocating you, as you try and fail to shake off the man, who’s gripping onto your jacket with knuckles turning white, like his life depends on it. Until finally, his broad hands slot in place.

On your throat.

You can feel it starting to close from the fear flooding your bloodstream, but there is no giving up on your vain attempts to free yourself of the hold Jay had on you. Terrifying, piercing screams reach your ears, and it seems there is nothing that could distract the man from actively trying to cut your life short, not even his best pal Tiny getting his hand torn to shreds by jagged, rotting teeth that only dug in deeper with every noise drawn. The scene before you is so bloody, so slow in its horrifying cruelty. You see dull fingers and more teeth digging into Tiny, who’s screams don’t cease for even a split second, tearing his throat raw in pointless cries for anybody’s help, reaching out towards somebody as more of the rotting hands grip onto his body. Rory’s feet seem to have grown into the ground beneath her, unable to move even a muscle to help the man.

It seems the walkers that attempted overwhelming Tom are drawn by the fresh blood from still screaming Tiny, who is writhing on the ground underneath a mass of living corpses, swarming him like giant flies. You can’t even see the man anymore, only guessing what excruciating fate was brought upon him from the wails of pain, mixed with gargled begging for mercy. Your neck strained under the thick fingers of Jay, who didn’t even look back one last time before Tiny was consumed by the walkers. But you knew it won’t be enough to satiate the hunger of these creatures, so soon they’ll move onto others.

Maybe by the time they’ll get to you and Jay he would have suffocated you, so there will be no need for you to suffer through such a miserable, terrifying death. No matter how much you hated the man, you’d prefer being choked out instead of torn apart, messy and bloody on the floor, blood gargling in your throat, spilling out in thin rivers from your lips, until the pain is too much for you to bear.

Bang!

A shot fired somewhere from above caused Jay’s leg to give out from under him. The man slid to his knees with a pained groan, the grip on your jacket’s collar becoming weaker each second, as his right hands fell to his hip, jaw tightening. A greedy inhale burned your throat – you hadn’t realized the edges of your vision were starting to darken and blur. Your body was twitching from the violent fear shaking you, and once again, you tried to get out of Jay’s grip. He still did not let go, dragging you to the ground, probably determined to take you down with him. Your eyes locked onto a rapidly spreading dark spot on Jay’s jeans that he’s unsuccessfully attempting to press close, distracted. You didn’t even question where the bullet came from. You didn’t want to know, even though there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of your mind. But what you did want was to make use of Jay’s state.

You didn’t see any other option, before grabbing onto the man’s hand with a grip that scratches him and biting down as hard as your jaw would allow you to. The man yelped out in surprise and his fingers finally let your jacket out of his grip for only a moment. But even a single second was enough for you to start getting away. You were ready to dart to the entrance in front of you – doors ajar, welcoming you to the outside world, urging to get away from the air, thick with clotting blood, decay and so much suffering you couldn’t bear it anymore.

However, before you could even take your second step, you feel a pull on your leg once again. Strong. Desperate. Full of hate. You grew c, and the momentary lightness within your chest disappears in mere seconds. Looking down was useless, it was most definitely Jay clutching your foot in another attempt to murder you. There was no way this piece of shit hated you so much he was using his last moments to fuck you over. It was hard to believe a normal person could even posses such levels of hate.

The seconds stretch out like hours. The heartbeat hammers away in your ears, almost dulling the screams of your former friends perishing underneath the assault of dirty fingernails, yellow teeth and greying flesh. You kick your foot down with strength like never before, wet heat burns your cheeks, and you could only guess that you started to cry from fear and despair, longing to save yourself. Couple of times your boot connects with something you’d only assume is Jay, drawing strained moans of pain and even more screaming you didn’t even care enough to register in your mind. Attempting to move with the dead weight of a grown man attached to you on the floor was not easy, but you made the best of it, managing to stumble forward a couple of steps, before being pulled back and collapsing once again.

Why was this your life? You didn’t deserve this. A sour, nauseating metallic taste spread in your mouth. Maybe you managed to bite your cheek when you fell to the floor. Head pulsing and throbbing from such a hit, you didn’t have any more strength to fight back. Not when a fucking behemoth of a man was climbing on top of you, pinning you to the ground, blood seeping out of the wound on his leg, screaming at you about his wife, who was being devoured a couple of meters away.

You accepted it. You were not supposed to survive that long anyway. It’s just…regret and bitter anger are overtaking every rational sense in your mind. You tremble, body doused with cold sweat and immediately thrown into a hot flash. Before you could think of what to do next, your body moves on your own. Teeth digging into flesh and cartilage, you bite down. Hard. Your canines shredded the skin underneath, more rancid blood filled your mouth, and you wanted to puke more with each second you stayed in that position. Copper kept filling your mouth, overflowing, pouring from your lips, you felt the sickly warmth of it drip down and soak into your shirt, but you wouldn’t let go. Deafening screams above you piercing your ears, you closed your eyes just not to see the picture behind or in front of you, anything but to see the surrounding horrors, and bit down harder. Harder.

So much harder. Until your teeth met, clanking together with a screeching noise. Until the crunch of something, comparable only to a fresh cabbage in your mind, halted, and something stayed in your mouth after your head violently jerked back from pulling on the flesh so strenuously. You bit off something. Spitting it out doesn’t help the bile rising up your throat and getting stuck in there as a nasty, annoying ball ready to pour out of your mouth. You kept holding on, until all of a sudden, the scream above you stopped after another loud bang of a bullet being fired.

More liquid warmth splattered on your cheeks. The body on you is so bulky. Falling, pressing down on you with its weight, suffocating in its heaviness. Your throat lets out ragged breaths, chest falling rapidly as you try to shove off the dead weight off of yourself. And everything is so red, drenched in putrid burgundy, sticking to your skin, hair, clothes, everywhere, pouring over you in a fountain that seems to be never-ending. Managing to slightly lift Jay’s shoulders, shoving you into the cold ground, you started shuffling away from underneath the man above you, the skin on your back aching, as it’s scratched by the earth and concrete. Crawling out took you longer than you cared to admit, you let go of Jay’s shoulders, muscles in your arms aching, as the dull thud of the man’s forehead against the ground makes you shiver in disgust.

Panic keeps rising within you, even after the factoid of human danger is gone. Through tears blurring your vision further and further you force yourself to notice only what mattered. Piles of walkers, writhing and shuffling like maggots on the ground, probably reaching to the last untouched bits of the human bodies underneath them, still distracted, but very likely to smell your presence when they’re done feasting; thin hand of Rory reaching towards you and Jay, bloody nails broken up to the meat of her fingers leaving scratch marks on the floor, as her legs are torn apart by dead, ravaging hands, woman’s muscle tissue soon to be devoured. You could hear the distant hisses and moans of the undead, the squelching and sloppy chewing echoing within the metal walls.

Jay’s body, with half of the skull gone, a mess of meat and greyish brain matter pulsing, pouring out of what you could only guess was bone — pink, thick and shattered. You could see the pieces of hair sticking to the bloody mess, when you felt the bile rise up in your throat once again, the acidic, foul taste mixing with the blood still resting on your tongue. The palm of your hand flew up to cover your mouth, closing your lips shut as if your life depended on it. A second passed, as you closed your eyes, letting the nausea die down. Then, you had the courage to turn in the direction where you spat out that something that you bit off from Jay. You wish you didn’t.

It was an ear. Bloody and ragged, bit clean off. Resting on the floor, your winning trophy of a fight with no winners.

You felt even more nausea come over you, but it was not the time to stay in one place. Somehow, your backpack managed to stay on your shoulders. Not wasting another second, you limped towards the open doors, shivering and scared, looking back. Not a single walker raised its eyes at you, too preoccupied with their fresh meat.

It was then, when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, you let your head rise up towards the wicked, human-shaped shadow you see within the roof window. The seconds spent staring at it feel like hours. It never disappeared, firmly planted within your vision. You expected it to vanish any second, whether dissolving into thin air, or ducking back behind cover, but it stayed. For some reason, you got the impression this thing was letting you see it. Almost as if…taunting you. You were clearly looking at it, but it was so far and dark you couldn’t make out any details.

Fuck, you hated this. Even after months of torture and your whole group dying in front of your eyes, there was no answer to what this shadow wanted from you. Worthless.

Oh, but König…he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Face covered in blood, dishevelled, scared, trembling from terror, looking death right in the eye and emerging victorious. His help was of no circumstance, to König you would’ve won in the fight anyway, he just sped up the process by a couple of minutes. Something in your head made you just as perverse as he was. It was such a pleasant surprise Pressed up against glass, cool temperature of it not dampening his suddenly spiking body heat, tearing away his gaze from your figure felt criminal. Seeing just what you were willing to do to get your freedom back, what your despair could drive you to was…sublime. Absolutely macabre and beautiful.

The metallic taste in König’s mouth made him realise he was biting his lip so hard it started bleeding. Teeth digging into parched skin, gloved fingers glued to the glass, he wanted nothing less than to absolutely devour you in this state. With soapy blood sticking to your wet skin, smell of sweat clinging to your bodies, disgusting and foul, just like the essence of human nature. Hot breaths puffing out from his tender, bleeding lips, dreaming of yours touching the dry, bitten mess of his. Or, better so, you could devour him instead.

Wholly and utterly, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of him, but bones sucked clean of meat. Until you destroy him so deeply he would live, breathe you (as if he wasn’t already). König would be so good to you, and you’d be so good to him. That’s right. He will treat you so good the whole world outside will be an empty, faded, and disappointingly hollow picture in comparison to his love for you. Bound in destiny and mutual destruction, now he was confident you were truly meant for each other in every single way. Now he knew that you were more like him than he could’ve imagined. And König would be lying, if the sound of that didn’t make his heart race like a wild animal on the run. Surely, if he let you devour him, you wouldn’t mind König getting a taste of you.

Yes…yes. That would do it.

A mild, sweet shiver shook him at the pleasant thought. Alone with you, at last. König didn’t dare entertaining such thoughts with much seriousness before, it was much more like a daydream he desperately clung to. Distant and far from the actuality, even as he worked hard on it making it the reality. Dreaming nightly of your piercing eyes that nailed him to the wall easier than anything, keeping your curious, endearing mannerisms in his mind as he crowded the walkers together, and trembling from anticipation of finally touching someone so worshipped and adored by him, as he unlocked the heavy metal doors of the storage house.

Now, when he only needed but to reach out and offer help to have you all to himself… He couldn’t wait. König’s mind buzzed with thoughts like a hive of irritated wasps. Pulling on him, urging him on to follow you, to take you for himself, because you could only belong to him. It wasn’t irritation, annoyance, anger, or even pure adoration tenderly trembling and warming him up from within his chest anymore, no…

It was carnal desire.

One that couldn’t be satiated without you, one that made him need you more than air, water, or food, so hard his head started spinning. One that would doom the both of you, bathing in blood and mutual violence, that König craved along with your loving gaze, delicate touches and quiet, sleepy whispers. Because destroying each other is what you were meant to do.

---

How none of the walkers followed you from the storage house was a mystery to you, drenched in blood and Jay’s brains were sure to draw them in — those undead fuckers were able to follow a scent trail like trained hounds. Still, you were grateful for that, having more of them on your tail would ensure your prompt death in the forest that seemed to be stretching around you, with seemingly no end to it. You were so goddamn tired, everything about your current state felt dirty and unclean; dry, brownish blood crusted onto your skin, soaked through your clothes and made you an easy target. Plus, with no food and no water available you won’t last long. You ended up being in the right. But what was the cost?

You were losing hope, fast. It has only been maybe half a day after your cut and run, the adrenaline that kept you going for hours wore off too soon for your liking, causing you to stumble around in the forest, much like a recently born deer, shaky-legged and lost. You started to think perhaps you hit your head on the floor too hard while fighting Jay, but that didn’t matter anymore. You were lost, dehydrated, hungry, with no prospects of surviving unless you find a river, and find it fast. That was your course of action, before you spotted shuffling and footsteps, crunching loudly on the ground, covered in a blanket of twigs, leaves, and grass. You expected a walker sneaking up on you all of a sudden, drawn in by the scent of blood, or an animal, if luck was on your side today, which you wouldn’t bet on, after all you’ve been through before the sun even cracked the sky open with its rays.

In front of you, however, was not an animal or a walker. It was a man. The first thing you noticed about him was his height, how he towered above everything around him. Only then, the lack of his face dawned on you, dirty hood with bleached stains right below the holes for eyes. Eyes, which you could barely make out from underneath this…obviously improvised face cover. But you weren’t the one to judge, however, assured in the fact that you must have been looking a hundred times worse, with your torn clothes, absolutely drenched in red. And that’s not to mention the smell…

The whites of your piercing eyes contrasted heavily with the skin, covered in red. König could hardly believe what he was seeing. Hours of tracking down the trail you used to get away from the storage house, chasing you down as quietly as possible, with anxiety churning his insides in an endless, void-like vortex, consuming his mind with devastating consequences and possibilities. Yet here you were. Shaken, staring at him like a wild animal, but safe. His.

It took everything in König not to fall down on his knees for you, burying his face in your gentle, lovely hands. There was nothing he wanted more than to crawl towards his beloved obsession, scraping the skin of his legs raw, tearing his gloves apart and scraping up the soil with his fingernails. But he had to contain himself, despite the trembling heart hammering behind his ribs like it was about to burst outwards, to you. Despite the most beautiful and warm of emotions overtaking him fully, despite his cheeks heating up in but a second, and despite his hand curling into a fist in his pocket, clutching a piece of your blanket he cut off for himself.

Finally. His for the taking.

check out this masterlist for more cod fics or send me a request/comment! you can also support me on ko-fi

123 notes · View notes

itwasrealtome · 14 days ago

Text

AGENT GRAY

Chapter 11 • Eye in the Sky

TAGLIST FORM

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

Olivia Benson x fem! FBI Agent OC

Summary:

Content Warning: Usual SVU & Violent Crimes talk • crime scene, blood, getting shot, sniper, corpse, NYPD officers, witnesses, shooting in broad daylight, CSU, security consultant, SA, Abuse, threats, Mention of manipulation, fear, control, mention of obsessive boyfriend, mention of online harassment, being silenced, | Mention of being back at work too early | Mention of weapons such as a Glock and a rifle | Getting shot in the vest.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 02

Midtown Manhattan — CRIME SCENE

03:48 PM

The sirens had long faded, leaving behind only the hum of police radios and the low murmur of uniformed officers pushing back the curious crowd. Bright yellow tape stretched across the sidewalk, fluttering in the breeze like a warning flag. It was still daylight, the winter sun casting long shadows through the city's narrow street. But there was nothing warm about the scene.

Alexis stepped out of the black Bureau SUV and adjusted the tactical vest across her chest, her breath visible in the crisp afternoon air. The familiar weight of her sidearm, the stiff collar of her neck warmer, the gravel under her boots–it all brought her right back to the tempo of stateside work.

She scanned the perimeter automatically, even as the wind tugged at the edges of her rainproof jacket. Her face still bore the marks of long months away–subtle sun-creased lines at the corners of her eyes, the faint shadow of a healing bruise under one cheekbone, and a gaze just a bit more hardened than before.

Her partner joined her a second later, slamming the passenger's door shut with one hand and adjusting his earpiece with the other. He glanced down the block at the swarm of patrol cars, then back at his friend, a grin already forming.

—Please, tell me you've unpacked more than just your toothbrush, he said, his voice somewhere between amused and exasperated. Because last time I set foot in your apartment, it looked more like a storage unit with delusions of being a home.

Alexis let out a huff, tugging on her gloves with brisk efficiency. The cold didn't bother her much, not after the months she'd spent overseas, but his commentary was another story. She didn't bother looking at him as she replied.

—It's not that bad.

—It's sterile, Miles shot back, following her as they stopped near the yellow tape. I've seen hotel lobbies with more soul.

Her apartment was quiet. Purposefully. The kind of place designed to take up as little emotional space as possible. Clean counters. Neutral walls. Furniture chosen for function, not comfort. It was the only place in her life she had full control over–why clutter it?

—I unpacked my shampoo. And my socks, she said flatly. That's practically nesting.

The man shook his head, giving a faint laugh as they took the time to take in the scene. Officers were moving with careful precision, already blocking off the street and logging evidence. The smell of city grit and something coppery lingered in the air.

—You live like you're one bug-out bag away from disappearing. Champ's corner has throw pillows, Lex. Your dog lives better than you.

—He has taste.

—And you've got the aesthetic of a monk, Miles added, catching the gloves she sent his way. I'm pretty sure your place echoes when you breathe.

Alexis tilted her head toward him, not bothering to hide the smirk tugging at her lips.

—I have a shelf.

Miles paused, then straightened, narrowing his eyes at her.

—A shelf. Right. Let me guess–still the same sad little baseball sitting on it?

She didn't deny it. Instead, she stood a little taller, chin up like she was daring him to question her taste in sentimental keepsakes.

—Nolan Ryan. Rookie year. Signed. It's a damn good baseball.

Miles barked out a laugh.

—You're the only person I know who could make a legendary fastball feel like home décor.

She didn't answer. Just smirked, then turned back to the crime scene–her boots crunching softly over the pavement as they finally made their way under the yellow tape. The banter faded as the weight of their surroundings returned.

The victim, a man in his mid-thirties, lay sprawled on the concrete, partially hidden by a delivery truck that had screeched to a halt mid-block. His dress shirt was stained deep red at the collar, blood pooled around his head, seeping into the cracks between the pavement. No obvious signs of a robbery—his watch, wallet, and phone still on him.

—Single shot to the neck, one of the patrol officers briefed, his voice clipped. No casing found. Witnesses heard the pop but didn't see a shooter. Sniper's all we can guess.

Miles crouched next to the body, eyes scanning the rooftops above them.

—That's a hell of a shot. From this angle? Clean, deliberate.

—Targeted, Alexis added, her jaw tightening. He never even knew it was coming.

The street around them was chaos disguised as calm. A bus stalled a few feet down the block, passengers still inside. Uniforms were canvassing, interviewing a few lingering witnesses. A woman stood near a flower shop's shattered front window, shivering under a blanket, mascara streaked down her cheeks.

The SEAL took a slow breath and looked over at the agent.

—He was walking out of that building, right?

—Yeah. Corporate offices–security firms, I think. SVU flagged him on a joint task force yesterday, something about suspected trafficking through company assets. Name's Leo Navarro.

That got her attention.

—Navarro?

Miles nodded grimly.

—He was supposed to sit down with SVU this afternoon. Olivia's team. Word was he was about to flip–start naming names.

—Someone didn't want him talking.

Alexis exhaled slowly, her gaze scanning the windows above them. Her hand settled naturally on the grip of her weapon, not drawing in–yet–but letting the weight ground her. The tension in the air wasn't just about the murder anymore. It was instinct, and something more—a gut-deep certainty that this was only the beginning.

The soft screech of tires pulled her focus. A black unmarked SUV rolled to a stop just beyond the cordon, and the doors opened in near-perfect sync. Amanda was the first out, eyes already narrowed, her badge swinging from her belt. Olivia stepped out next, calm but charged with purpose, her expression unreadable until her gaze caught Alexis's across the street.

For a second, the commander forgot about the body. About the blood. About the open street and the dozens of eyes watching. Olivia was in slacks and a dark wool coat, her badge clipped to her hip, and something about the way she moved–steady, deliberate–made the noise around Alexis dull into background hum.

She turned toward her, arms folding across her chest, her tone dry but unmistakably warm.

—You again? Alexis called out, arms folded, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in that familiar, impossible-to-read smirk. We've really got to stop meeting like this, Lieutenant.

Olivia slowed her pace as she approached, her mouth twitching before she allowed a smile to break through.

—Believe me, she said, stepping under the crime scene tape without breaking stride. I've been trying.

Their eyes held for a beat too long—too knowing, too familiar. Alexis wasn't in uniform, but there was still something unmistakably commanding about her. Tactical vest snug against her frame, dark neck warmer tucked beneath the collar, her skin still showing the faded ghosts of bruises earned thousands of miles away. She looked like she'd never left. And like she'd never fully returned, either.

Behind them, Amanda stopped just inside the perimeter, scanning the scene with her usual sharp eye, but her gaze eventually drifted back toward Olivia and Alexis. She watched the exchange with mild amusement, then turned her head slightly to catch Miles's eye.

He didn't say anything. Just gave her a look–half smirk, half exasperated sigh–the universal expression for yep, this again.

The blonde raised her eyebrows, clearly fighting back a grin.

—So, she murmured under her breath, sliding up beside him. When were you planning on telling us she was back.

Miles shrugged, but his smile gave him away.

—Thought it'd be more fun to let the drama speak for itself.

Amanda chuckled, and the two of them watched as Olivia stepped closer to Alexis, her tone casual but lined with something quieter. Concern, maybe. Curiosity. Something harder to name.

—You weren't scheduled back until next week.

Alexis didn't answer right away. Her eyes flicked down the street, toward the rooftops where a sniper might've been. The wind pushed past them, lifting the edge of her coat and tugging at a stray strand of hair that had slipped loose from her braid. She reached up absently, tucking it behind her ear as if buying time.

Finally, she exhaled through her nose and offered Olivia a crooked half-smile.

—Yeah, well... you know me. Sitting still isn't exactly my strong suit.

The lieutenant's brow knit, just slightly. She'd heard those words before–too many times from people who used work to outrun something else. And Alexis Gray had always been good at running. From war zones. From grief. From herself, maybe.

—You were supposed to take some time, Liv said softly. Let your body catch up to the rest of you.

—My body's fine, Alexis replied quickly. Too quickly.

Olivia gave her a look, the kind that cut through defense mechanisms like they were paper. Her voice dropped lower, meant only for the brunette to hear.

—And your head?

That was harder to dodge. Alexis's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. She glanced past the detective for a beat–at Amanda talking to CSU, at Miles crouched again near the body, barking something about the trajectory and the wind. Then she looked back at her, steadying herself.

—I needed to move, she said finally. To do something. Sitting at home, pretending I'm not thinking about it all anyway? That's not rest. That's hell.

Olivia didn't argue. She knew what that felt like–lying in bed with silence pressing in like a second skin. And she knew better than most that healing wasn't linear, and it sure as hell wasn't neat.

—Just promise me you'll tell someone if it gets too heavy, she said after a long beat. Doesn't have to be me.

Gray looked at her for a second too long, something flickering across her expression–gratitude, maybe. Maybe something else.

—I'll think about it, she said, which for her was practically a full-throated yes.

Before Olivia could respond, Miles stood, brushing his palms together, and called out.

—We've got something weird with the angle. CSU says the shooter must've been up high–but not in any of the windows directly facing the street. It's like he had a clear line of sight without ever stepping into view.

Amanda frowned and joined him.

—So either someone knew exactly how to avoid every camera on this block...

—Or it wasn't their first time doing this, Olivia finished grimly.

Alexis was already scanning the rooftops, instinct clicking into place. Something about the setup didn't sit right. Too clean. Too fast. The kind of kill that suggested more than just a warning.

Then her voice cut through, low and certain.

—This wasn't just about silencing a witness.

Olivia turned to her, catching the edge in her tone.

—You think it was meant for more?

The brunette nodded slowly.

—They're sending a message. And if they're watching... it means we're already behind.

The weight of her words settled over them like the clouds creeping in above.

And somewhere, from a rooftop none of them could yet see–someone watched through a scope, still waiting.

Leo Navarro had once worn the uniform of a U.S. Army Ranger–disciplined, sharp, and driven by the need to serve. After his honorable discharge, he'd tried to live a quieter life. He moved to New York from Wisconsin, determined to be closer to his daughter and maintain the joint custody agreement. The city was chaotic, but it offered him stability, a new start.

He took a job as a private security consultant with the Badwin family's firm–a sleek, well-connected company that promised high-end protection services to New York's elite. On paper, it seemed like a good fit. Navarro had the experience, the training, and the instincts. But it didn't take long before things started to feel wrong.

Within two months, Leo had already begun to see beneath the polished surface. Mike Baldwin, the charismatic man at the helm, didn't seem interested in preventing harm–he orchestrated it. He built threats, not barriers. Clients believed they were hiring protection, but what they were really buying was manipulation. Fear was a commodity, and Baldwin used it to control, extort, and dismantle lives from the inside out.

One of the worst cases had stayed with Leo–haunted him, really. It was the kind of thing you couldn't unsee, couldn't push out of your conscience no matter how many times you told yourself to move on.

A wealthy Manhattan father had hired the firm to 'protect' his teenage daughter. On paper, it looked like a routine assignment: threats from an obsessive ex-boyfriend, increased online harassment, and the occasional paparazzi-type lurking around their Upper East Side home. Baldwin Security stepped in with discretion and promise. Leo was one of the first agents placed on the case.

But it didn't take long before the details stopped adding up.

Baldwin twisted the narrative from the start, quietly shifting Leo off the assignment and replacing him with one of his own hand picked men–the kind who followed orders without asking questions. The girl's father, wealthy and influential, seemed more concerned about optics than his daughter's well-being. And Mike Baldwin knew how to use that.

Instead of protecting the young girl, Baldwin used her. Manipulated her isolation. Isolated her further from her friends, her school, even her mother, who had been quietly pushed out of the picture in a bitter divorce. She was vulnerable, barely sixteen, and completely dependent on the men who were supposed to keep her safe.

Leo had found out too late. He'd tried to intervene once, to bring it up discreetly inside the company, and was warned off. Threatened. Moved to another post. But the damage had already been done. He started keeping his own records after that. Dates, names, assignments. He knew there were more victims–different girls, different families, the same patterns.

And this case? This girl? She was the reason SVU had come sniffing around in the first place.

The information was still fresh–not yet in official reports, but whispered between agents and detectives. Olivia had pulled the file herself that morning, the case circling her desk like smoke that wouldn't clear. Leo Navarro hadn't just been a body on the street. He'd been trying to do the right thing. And someone had made damn sure he didn't.

Now, the four of them stood in the middle of Lexington Avenue, sunlight catching on the slick pavement where cleanup crews hadn't finished washing the blood away. Leo's body had already been taken, but the weight of what he left behind hung heavy. A folder of emails. Two phone calls made to Olivia's office. A third, unanswered call from the night before. They'd been this close to hearing everything.

Alexis stood near the marked circle where Leo's body had fallen, one boot just outside the yellow chalk. Her eyes were distant, mouth drawn tight behind her neck gaiter. She hadn't said much since Miles briefed them all again, but the tension in her posture spoke louder than anything else.

The blonde detective had her hands jammed into her coat pockets, rocking slightly on her heels.

—He knew too much. Knew enough to scare Baldwin into pulling the trigger.

—Or calling someone who would, her boss added grimly, her eyes on the rooftops. This wasn't just clean-up. This was a message.

—He was supposed to talk to SVU today. That's not a coincidence.

Alexis tilted her head slightly, her eyes scanning the buildings again.

—Someone didn't want him flipping, she murmured.

Then she stilled.

At first, no one noticed. She was always scanning, always a step ahead. But this time, she didn't move. Her whole body had gone sharp with focus, eyes fixed upward at a corner of one of the buildings across the street.

—Lex? Her partner asked, casually, like he didn't want to startle her.

She didn't answer.

Instead, her voice dropped low. Controlled. Urgent.

—Reflection. Third floor, left window. Everyone–get down!

She moved like lightning, shoving Olivia hard toward the sidewalk just as the crack of a rifle echoed down the narrow corridor of city buildings. The sound was sharp, violent, and sudden.

Alexis landed on top of Olivia with a heavy thud, her arms shielding the older woman's head as more officers scrambled into cover. The world turned into chaos around them–shouts, screams, the frantic burst of radios sparking to life.

A punch of pain shot through Alexis's back as her body jerked forward. The round had hit her square in the vest, driving the breath from her lungs, but it didn't go through.

—Are you hit? Olivia's voice was urgent beneath her, hands pressing at Alexis' sides, eyes wild.

—I'm fine. Vest took it.

—But you-

–Stay down, Alexis ordered, voice low but sharp. Don't move until I say.

Her hand shot up to press the comms mic clipped to her shoulder, but not before her other arm steadied Olivia, guiding her gently into a sitting position behind the cruiser they were using for cover. The chaos of the street blurred at the edges of Alexis's focus, but not Olivia—not her. She crouched close, one gloved hand briefly brushing Olivia's jaw, checking for blood, for any sign she'd been hit, even as her own back throbbed from the impact of the bullet caught in her vest. Her voice was low, urgent, but steady, her eyes scanning Olivia's face.

—You're good? she asked, her tumb momentarily resting just beneath the lieutenant's chin, tipping her face toward the light.

Only when Olivia gave a shaky nod did Alexis lean back slightly, exhale the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and press the mic on her shoulder. The steel returned to her spine as she straightened up, body shifting instinctively back into combat posture. The protector. The soldier. But even as she prepared to move, her hand lingered a second longer on Olivia's shoulder, grounding them both.

—Miles–sniper, third floor, left window. Across the street. Cover me. I'm going for the gear.

—Got you.

The agent was already moving. He dropped into a low crouch behind a patrol cruiser, drawing his weapon and zeroing in on the upper windows across the street.

—Rollins, with me. Watch the left flank.

—I'm on it, Amanda replied, sliding smoothly into place beside him. She drew her Glock and angled her body against the open door of a black-and-white. Go, Lex!

Alexis didn't need to be told twice.

She bolted from Olivia's side, boots pounding the pavement as another shot cracked through the air and splintered the windshield of a nearby parked car. Shards of glass exploded outward, but she didn't flinch, just kept running–low, fast, deliberate–toward the FBI SUV a few yards behind the police line.

Officers ducked behind barriers. Civilians were ushered behind makeshift cover. Chaos unfolded in the background, but Alexis had tunnel vision now.

She skidded to the back of the Bureau-issued vehicle, yanked the hatch open, and ducked into cover behind it. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts, adrenaline buzzing under her skin. She shoved aside a sealed evidence kit and unlatched the tactical weapons case secured along the floor of the trunk.

Fingers steady despite the tension in her shoulders, she popped it open. Her rifle was nestled inside like a waiting hand. Familiar. Reliable.

She grabbed it, checked the chamber, clipped the scope into place with practiced ease, and dropped to one knee behind the rear bumper for partial concealment.

—Miles, how's my window? she asked over comms, already adjusting the dial on the scope to compensate for distance and elevation.

—Still active. Movement behind the glass, three o'clock. Amanda's suppressing fire's holding him, but not for long.

Alexis braced the butt of the rifle against her shoulder, peeking through the scope. The third floor window–dusty glass, cracked open just enough to allow a barrel through–was still there, but the glint was gone.

That didn't stop her.

—I've got him. He's moving right, probably repositioning.

Through the lens, she saw the faintest flicker of shadow shift behind the curtain. She adjusted her aim a fraction to the left.

—Come on, she murmured. Give me an angle.

Olivia, still crouched behind a patrol car near the sidewalk, pressed her comms.

—Lexi, wait–don't overcommit. We can fall back and-

—No time, Gray said, voice clipped. If he's repositioning, he'll take another shot in seconds. I'm not giving him a clean one.

The seconds dragged like hours. Wind picked up. Sirens whined distantly. And then-

Movement. A silhouette leaned too far into the window for just a breath.

—Gotcha.

Alexis squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang sharp and clean, echoing like a whip across the rooftops.

Through her scope, she saw the figure jerk backward violently, then disappear from view.

—Target down, she said into her comms, lowering the rifle. Window's clear.

Miles was the first to let out a low breath.

—Damn, Gray. You still got it.

—I never lost it, Alexis shrugged, slinging the rifle across her chest and finally standing up fully.

Amanda called over from her position, eyes still scanning the skyline.

—Scene's holding. Officers moving to secure the building now.

The SEAL exhaled sharply, her breath fogging in the cold air as she swept one last, meticulous glance across the rooftops. Her muscles remained taut beneath the weight of her vest, adrenaline still humming just beneath the surface of her skin. The silence that followed was thick and unforgiving, broken only by the distant wail of approaching sirens and the murmur of officers regrouping behind cover. No more shots. No more glints of light. Whoever had pulled the trigger was gone.

She lowered the rifle, not completely, but enough to let herself breathe again.

Her gaze snapped back to Olivia.

The lieutenant was slowly rising from behind the cruiser, her palm braced against the fender, her movements careful and deliberate. Dust clung to her coat. A scrape marked the side of her hand. But she was standing–alive. Visibly rattled, but composed in that quiet, defiant way that Olivia always was. The kind of composed that came after years of getting up, no matter how hard you were hit.

Alexis moved toward her in three brisk strides, boots crunching on scattered glass and debris.

—You okay?

Olivia nodded, but the moment her eyes met Alexis's, something in her expression flickered—gratitude, fear, anger at being caught off-guard, maybe all of it layered into a single breath.

Without hesitation, Alexis extended a hand. Olivia took it, and Alexis pulled her up in one smooth motion. For a beat too long, neither of them let go.

—You got hit, Olivia murmured, eyes narrowing as she glanced at the back of Alexis's vest. The impact mark was deep, slightly off-center–close enough to be lethal if the angle had been just a little different.

—Vest caught it.

Alexis brushed it off like she hadn't felt the wind knocked out of her when it happened. She could still feel the ache blooming across her spine like bruised thunder. But none of that mattered. Not when Olivia had been the target.

—Are you always this dramatic when you come back from deployment? Benson said, trying for levity but not quite hiding the emotion in her voice.

Alexis gave a tired, crooked smile. And for a moment, in the wreckage of spent bullets and scattered glass, the weight of what could've happened hung between them like smoke that hadn't cleared.

—Figured I'd make an entrance.

TAGLIST: @nciscmjunkie @makkaroni221 @thefatobsession @ginasbaby @certainlychaotic @kiwiana145 @kobayashi-fr @hi-i-1

#olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #olivia benson x oc #olivia benson #agent gray #age gap romance #alexis gray #law and order svu x oc #svuseason18 #law and order svu x reader #svu fic #amanda rollins

15 notes · View notes

fisheito · 8 months ago

Text

wanted to get my thots about mirage of scales in one place so let's go thru this thang again and see if i can ,like, feel things

(gonna list my highlights of each story section so yes, it's gonna be. long.

FIRST OF ALL, WHAT A POWERPLAY TO SHOW US THE SCALE RELIC AS EACH PART OF THE EVENT PROGRESSES ooooh i was getting so excited when the relic was clearing up but they HURT ME IN THE SECOND HALF

WHY IS IT TURNING BLUE. NO. NO DO NOT DO THIS . DO NOT !I SWEAR TO DDOG MAKE IT GO BACK *bacskspacebackspacebackspace*

then Scales-13 is sitting there all glittery and sooo pretty upon a plush purple cushion like wooow isn't that nice?? look! we made the scale so shiny and vibrant and it's got lively streams of beautiful wisps-- NO SHUT UP DON'T HSOW ME THAT 😭i'M GONNA THROW THAT THING BACK INTO THE SEA (now i'm wondering why they made the final cushion purple. i mean, yes, purple simply does not miss, and it is the most regal of hues, but also. puplelkl? kuya? he's propping up umi in his last act? hm. hmm.)()

Let's get tooo ittt

SCALES - 1

Eiden, yaku, and oli looking for recipes together = me kicking my legs and giggling, looking adoringly, eyes sparkling, soaking in the warm softness and comfort of it all, rolling around in my eternal fascination for finding new things to eat

kuya: lol u thought *(kicks down the fluff with his chunky heels* yakumo: {={pP=P=PPEOPLE EAT YOKAI MEEEAT????!??!?!! kuya: :) oli: dont be scare lil buddy it's just an outdated rumour 💦 kuya: bet u they used to eat them with forks made out of their victims' spines yakumo: {{{{SHAKING}}}}}}

I SWEAR THE MOMENT I SAW THEM INVITE OLIVINE

I KNEW LOGICALLY THAT THEY WEREN"T GONNA HAVE OLI IN THE EVENT BUT IDK MY DISBELIEF WAS SO SUSPENDED AND MY DREAMS WERE SO LOFTY THAT MY HOPE SOMEHOW SKYROCKETED AND I GOT SO EXCITED FOR OLI TO SAY YES

CURSE YOU UNSPECIFIED TEMPLE THINGS!!!! TKAING MY JOY AWAY!!!!

nvm my joy returns thanks to the hilarity of oli's referral i like to think that these two developed a mutual understanding during elysium so oli , with a respecvt for kuya, offers him up as a worthwhile companion..? alternative.lyy, oli trolling like, i don't want kuya stirring up trouble without eiden around (because the universe knows how much of a sulk he'll go thru without his fave plaything around) and the old man is just fidgeting in the corner looking so bored and jUST waITING for someone to invite him on a little trip so why don't i take initiative here ✨✨ invite him for you ✨✨✨

maybe one day i'll get a yakuyoli event11..... one... one day.......... *deflates(*

SCALES - 2

surprised that peepaw endured an entire boat journey without setting the thing on fire. my headcanon that he gets seasick or whatever is shot down. alas. he CAN stand on a boat and not vomit all over the poopdeck. my jokes are in shambles. fine. maybe he got better after all his boat trips with huey. you win this time, foxyboy......

once again, my stupid little optimism was sOOOOOO glad to have the village chief interrupt the villagers hostility to be like "heeeyyy it's ok.... we're not used to strangers but we should let these guys help with the ceremony" i went, oh!!! maybe the elder is indeed wiser than the masses!! and he'll help talk sense into these xenophobic ppl!! ahahaha. oh, me. naive as the snake....... anywa.y.

eiden, i love you for being such an excellent mediator. you speak for the shy but easily shutdown-able yaku and the "first resort: burn it down" lavender diva. thank you for existing, and being here, and knowing words. lov e u. mwah.

SCALES - 3 i ahte these villagers but i love their fabricular gifts unto us (the event outfits) amen. thanks. brb getting yakumo that light rainproof jacket that he will surely need because he's cold all the time probably .

i am now of the belief that not ALL the vilalgers were pure megadouches. some of them had the foresight to offer *just the right* fits for the three of them. Or maybe they just grabbed 3 vaguely-similar-sized outfits and threw them at eiden, who then got to choose which one kuya/yakumo wore ..... what if it ended up switched and kuya got the fish bikini abnd yakumo got the fluttery deity gear? ...gonna think about that for a while.

SCALES - 4 once again, i was delusional when i thought that kuya was the one to jump into the water to save the kid. inhuman speed? yeah sure kuya can do that! saving a child? uhh,, maybe kuya would do that... if there were no witnesses? saving a human child? uhhhhhhhhhhh ok maybe not kuya why did i even think it would be kuya. he's got his fancy threads on (that eiden might have handpicked) . no way is he getting those wet

it's cvuzz i didn't expect THEIIS THIS!!!!!!

BRO WHAT YALL NEVE R MAKE NPCs LIKE THIS by which i mean this guy is protagonist coded and yall have only been making neutral-to-evil NPCs with a few exceptions lik.e. water consul. l(whispers: love u) so now you're presenting me with NPC, who has a FACE, and FEATURES, and just SAVED A RANDOM CHILD, AND HE'S BEAUTIFUL? ofdmgidrefgsjidokrdglsjrdhgsoliioldjeiuirhedkjsda let me stare at him please can i add you to my collection i promise i'll give u only the qualityest of feed. what do u want. bloodworms? live snails? fresh crab? I'll fight those crabs for you. i'll pick their finicky flesh from their carapace. whatever you want i'll get it for you

i'll never tire of this, btw. eiden, who is just a guy, trying his best to be approachable and nonintimidating with gorgeous dudes decorating him like a wreath. it's fine. everything's normal. no need to be alarmed, hydrodynamic stranger

and for the second time this event, yakumo's yokai sense tingles and kuya offers a (patronising?) "GOOD FOR YOOOOUUUUU guess you're not completely human-washed after all"

SCALES - 5 girl, what?

for a solid minute i thopught we got ourselves into another cult situation like, lining yakumo and eiden up for human sacfirice or smth. toss em into an active volcano style i just thought PLEASE SIR NOT THIS AGAIN WE CANNOT LET YAKUMO BECOME A CULT MAGNET HE'S GOT ENOUGH TRAUMA FROM THAT

....then they end up just putting their hands on the fish scale to make a wish and i feel a bit of relief that this isn't going into maiden sacrifice territory

THE SCREAM I SMERCEAMT

IT"S HAPEPPPNIGNINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG THE SCALES ARE OUTTTTTTT NO WAY YOU GONNA PUT KUYA AND YAKUMO IN AN EVENT TOGETHER AND NOT TOUCH ON THEIR ANIMAL SIDES I WOULD RIOT YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THEY BETTER ALSO TOUCH ON THIS IN THE INTIMACY ROOMS YOU CAN'T JUST CREATE A SPRITE FOR THAT AND NOT USE IT OUTSIDE THE STORY I'M ONTO YALL YOU'RE GONNA COME THROUGH I JUST KNOW IT YESSAAAHSHSHSHHHH o wait yakumo's in pain and the villageres are about to berserk ok focus stop projecting into the whateer we gotta FOCUS ahahahaha look at em scramble around all scared of scaly yakumo

no. go back to being panic. no brazen. do not eene cen THINK o fit

[[they surround yakuei]] NOT THIS AHGTIJT AGAIN oh thank heavens ok at least the village chief is semi reasonable . not immediate bloodshed. we're fine. probably.

SCALES - 6 eiden: yakumo!! how are you feeling!! that relic really messed you up, huh? yakumo: getting away from it helped. my skin's back to normal me: 😒tsk.

and of course kuya is not going to be a convenient plot device and HELP YOU out of a situation. no. he's gonna lounge in a tree somewhere and watch umi be a Very Good Lad and sneak you out of house arrest. dreamy sigh. thank you magic jailbreaker umi!!!!!!

and all it took was umi acknowledging yakumo's existence for me to hop back on the yakubicycle ring the bell dingding!!! all aboard!!!! UMI GET ON !!WE GOT A BOY TO GRIND INTO DUST *slaps a helmet on him* *makes my YakUmi dolls touch tails*

and of course

kuya switching between "ok little one i'm about to give you the schooling of a lifetime because CLEARLY you don't understand how this savage world works" and "oohhhh how could i, a humble little fox of generic stature and lineage, possibly measure up to the greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgrandchild of the Biggest Snake Ever? oh nooooo. i'm but a widdle boy. don't look to me for answers :3" sassy little......

SCALES - 7 yakumo: what,, what if we all just hugged and held hands with the humans??? umi: 😔 kuya: lol nah get a load of this *turns on the projector so that horrifying visions of the past play on the walls* eiden, yakumo, umi: 😨😨😨 MY FISH FRIENDS! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -> had to lie down for several moments after this section. dude.... the massacre... the one-sidedness... th savagery o f those indigenous to the island... euuuuuuuggrrrhhhhhhhhhhrhrhhrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *holds a tiny umi in my palm* WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO... WHEN YOUR LIFE EXPERIENCE IS AT ODDS WITH HISTORY... WHEN YOU LIVED FOR SO LONG PROTECTING THE DESCENDANTS OF PEOPLE WHO DID THIS TO UR ANCESTORS... WHO MAY NOT HAVE COMMITTED THE CRIMES THEMSELVES BUT THEY DON'T ... do they try to atone for it? did they learn from it? does it matter?? jdoSJDAUDAWKDJAWWLAWWOPAEWAEPORL:FKS

oh frick story is happening wait recalibrating

villagers: THEY'VE COME FOR OUR BLOOD yakumo: (visibly shaking) i don't hate humans!! i... i've never wanted to hurt humans! please, we may be different, but-- kuya: (smiling while the storm rages around him)

me: steadily inching toward kuya in terms of "i agree with this one i'm kinda excited to see yall suffer"

>!>!>!>>!??!?!?!?!??! YAKUMO??? WHAT R YOU DOING??? DID YOU JUST MAKE A GIANT SHIELD?!?!?!?!?!?!? BABY BOY WHAT IS WITH YOU AND THE SHIELD.S. YOU ARE SUCH A SHIELDER. DIDN'T YOU DO THIS RECENTLY IN THE STORY WITH BERSERKER OLI? OHHHhh, i'm so proud of you you couldn't have done this 2 years ago!! you've come so far in terms of essence control and you're always using it to protect people you're doing so good and i-- CLIFF HANGER??!??!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!

a moment to breathe, if you (i) please. a moment to consider: what does yakumo's shield technique look like? hm/ / . more on that later.

SCALES - 8

WAHT IOSWRONG WITH YOU!!! DUMBASSES!!!!!! no, not dumahzsss. estupido. gonk. IDIOTA

YEAH!FILL THEIR LUNGS WITH SOUR GUMMIES, EIDEN

WHAT IS WRORNG WITH YOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

THESE ppl are so incredibly stupid that i cannot even fathom............ this boy is saving yalls asses with a giant shield (tbh, if he can make such a giant shield he could have chosen to make a smaller bubble shield or smth that only saved eiden/kuya/umi . but he consciously chose to protect ALL of u)

YAKUMO MAY HAVE MERCY ON YOU BUT I WON'T *clambers over the giant wave with my supersoaker full of piss and who-knows-what-else-concoction*

SCALES - 9 imaginging umi sneaking into the lighthouse at night to feed the fish scale his lil blood drips like a pet a pet thats keeping all these ungrateful humans alive

umi: um. why is it doing that. *points to village chief kneeling befor ehim* kuya: what did i mcfkin tell you. humans suck eiden: hella yakumo: my worl d is crashing down was mmy life a lie can humans and yokai really coexist with each other ? yes of course they have to be able to there's no way that humans are evil and to doom them would be too cruel-, adn yet how will the complicated history between umi's ancestors and- umi: i'm not sure how i can help kuya: i mean it's totally your choice. what does it matter to me ? you can do wahetevr you want and ultimately, it's not like any of our opinions matter because nature will reclaim us as it so forcefully reclaims all. why fuss over such trivial decisions when we are but pawns of fate. but yeah. killing them sounds pretty peachy right now ngl

SCALES - 10

you are too nice umi the paths that require the least amount of effort from you will let the villagers wipe themselves out

the fact that kuya is willing to drop the origins of the relic and how to potentially make a new one?? i guess he's not being such a hermit crab about info... so he's being generous in his own way by sharing knowledge... and umi can make an informed decision.

i gotta say that i was mini-spoiled on this part of the story, compeltely by accident on someone else's part... there were multiple tumblr ppl posting about their reactions to the story and going "IF UMI DIES I'M GONNA BE SO ANGRY" and i, living in a lala ideal world of my own, had never even CONSIDERED that a possibility but once i read other's fears about that potential future i was like NOOOOOOOOO AND NOW THEY'RE GIVING UMI AN OPTION *LIKE THIS* OH NO OH NO OH NO THEY'RE REALLY GONNA DO IT THEY'R EACTUALLY GONNA KILL A NICE NPC WHY WOULD YOU BLESS ME WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL FISH AND TAKE HIM AWAY FOR SOMETHING AS STUPID AS A PROMISE OR WHATEVER

SCALES - 11 cheering, whooping, hollering as kuya sets the village chief on fire

umi: i;'ll protect these humans with my own blood because i loved one centuries ago yakumo: humans have been kind to me so i'll protect them from a tsunami even when they're threatening my life kuya: idiots. babies. sentimental little fetus yokai. let me bring some consequences back to ur actions mr greedy wretch of a human *starts turning SUPERPURPLE*

hOL Y SHIgha kuya let him go? i was prepared to see some new bbq on umi's floor.. surprising........................... not as vengeful as i thought, kuya.... or rather i guess your senpai senses are tingling and you're ultimately leaving this business up to umi cuz, really, this IS umi's business and not kuya's 😞

SCALES - 12

sigh... yeah... you're right, eiden.... i need you to inject some Good Sense back into my violent tendencies... biggersigh... i would have loved to doom those villagers to sopping wet destruction but... right, right umi's lived for a long time... and eiden's crew have only known him for this TINY window on that timeline... we dont know him.. we dont know his life ☹ we AREN'T in a position to interfere with his decision...

*slams fist on the desk again* GOAWDH, UMI, WHAT WAS SO HECKIN SMPECIAL ABOUT THAT DUDE YOU KNEW THAT YOU'D GO THIS FAR FOR HIM??? UGH THIS POOR LONELY GAY FISH I'M so anGYYYYYYYY 😫😭😭😭😭😭😭 *watching umi fade into the white screen* this is stupid my chest hurts 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

SCALES - 13

SCREAMS BEAUTIFUL FSIIH *POINTS*!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLUE GREEN SCALES!!!!!!!!!!! UMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YOU'R EFISH AGAIN??? REINCARNATED? RESET? CYCLE ANEW? kuyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i hope you used your bonkers godmode gamebreaker powers to somehow scrape the barrel of umi DNA and remake him or like; f;just;;; idk reset the clock on him even tho you don't approve of his decision

GAAAAHHHHHHHH this event!!! suffering!!!!!! suffering ana dammdbiguity!!!!!!! no giggles!!!! only existential crises and racism and reminding us of the different lifespans of humans vs yokai and now i bet all the frreaifsjsekles long-lived boys on my screen right now (yakumo and kuya) are gonna have to make some decisisons about how to deal with their incoming grief about EiDen leaving this plane of existence well before theyre ready tio part a and nOOOO i'm not gonna think about that umi is ok and fish again and he's gonna outlive all the predators and be so super cool and resplendently scaled and shiny the whole time that he gains enough magic power to become a yokai again and then he'll live a happy life with people who don't suck and and and eiden's gonna live forever witht eh power of gay neon gemstone and the elemental spirits kissing him gently on thecheek and nobody will have to sob fat tears over their beloveds ever ok goodbye

#mirage of scales

35 notes · View notes