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littlerequiem · 4 months ago

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we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Descriptions of the Rumbling (WC: 7k).

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It’s past curfew when you catch a glimpse of Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary. He's been coming up here this past week, though this is the first time you approach him.

“You gonna tell anyone?” Levi asks. He’s playing with a small pocket knife, twirling it in his hand.

You consider his question. No doubt Erwin would want to know about his new gamble sneaking away from the barracks every evening. Then again, knowing Erwin, he might already know and chooses to just let it slide anyway.

You lean your weight over the edge of the window sill, gazing at the way moonlight crowns Levi's hair. “Are you going to hurt anyone with that knife?”

Levi's eyes twinkle in the night. “What, just because I’m from the Underground means I’m gonna stab someone?”

“Actually,” you say carefully, “I was more worried about you hurting yourself.”

His eyes lose their fire; he focuses back on his knife. “I won’t.”

Freedom—it is the ability to glimpse at endless blue skies; it is horse riding until dusk; it is choices and opinions and being able to voice them.

These days, Levi takes it for granted, his freedom. He’s an ungrateful asshole like that.

If the people from his childhood would hear him now, they would spit in his face. Try to beat him to a pulp. Here he is, lacking gratitude, when some poor lowlife was born and died in that shit hole that was the Underground.

Levi hears that the Underground doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve told him that the Rumbling caused earthquakes to fracture the ground, that much of the subterranean city has been buried under. There were some casualties, of course, but the worst could be avoided since Queen Historia had ordered a gradual evacuation years prior.

Levi wonders if the people now discovering life above ground still have violence in their blood the way he once did when he first saw the sun.

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

Your question muffles over the sound of the kettle groaning awake on the gas stove, blending with the sound of waves crashing outside. It tears him right out of his thoughts and away from the headline he'd been reading: 'More than 75% of refugees in Marley now rehoused, much work still remains in the mental aftermath of the war'.

Levi has been up for several hours now, breakfast long since consumed. You, on the other hand, just got up, the whisks of sleep still present in your cadence, in the corners of your eyes. An anomaly to be sure—Levi remembers you being an early riser, but he supposes that habits, just like people, change.

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?”

You yawn, a hand covering your mouth. “Well... you always had a secret tea stash, didn't you?”

“To hide from cadets and their grubby fingers. I’m all alone here.”

“Mm." You shrug, words a little slurred. "You could still want to hide a thing or two from me.”

“Then I wouldn’t tell ya where it was, would I?” Levi leans one elbow over the kitchen table, chin lazily resting on the center of his palm. His index finally pokes out to give directions. “S’on the left side, second cupboard.”

Your gaze follows his directive, only to look at him with a slightly more straight posture. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You stick your tongue out, like a damn child. “Words. They help.”

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes. He watches you open the cupboard, grabbing the tin of loose tea leaves.

On the chair next to him, Scout is curled up and fast asleep. The kitten's muzzle scrunches as she dreams.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to drink this?”

Levi's eyes flicker back towards you. You're facing him, looking uncertainly at the tea.

“Yeah," he says.

"But isn't this special? Isn't this tea from Paradis?"

It is tea from Paradis, courtesy of Armin. It's one of Levi's last boxes, in fact. He knows he'll eventually run out of it, and while he supposes he could ask for more of it, he thinks his taste buds will just need to adapt to something else. That's just the way life goes.

"You know," he mutters, "if you’re gonna be like this about every little thing around the house, it's gonna get tiring real fast.”

You focus on the tea preparation, turning away from him. “I’m just being polite."

“Why? You never bothered before."

"Ouch. Harsh.”

"S'not," Levi mumbles, running a hand through his hair. It’s freshly washed, still a bit damp. "I mean, no need to act all fake and shit."

"Okay... but this isn't like life in the Survey Corps. This is your house."

His house. Levi doesn't know if he should be more possessive about these things, the way he's seen some townspeople be with their possessions, but Levi's just never been one to care about these things. He never has.

Levi flips his newspaper to the next page. "So long as you keep the place clean, I don’t care about the rest."

“You don’t care?”

You've turned back in his direction, and his eyes meet yours. There's a spark in your gaze.

Oh you’re taunting him.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. "Drill this into your head, Adler: anything that’s mine is yours, so just treat this place as such.”

That seems to shut you right up. You blink with a dumbfounded expression, apparently startled by his (accidental, Levi swears it was accidental) turn of phrasing. It’s soon replaced by words uttered beneath your breath, words Levi doesn’t quite grasp because his own ears are whistling. He returns his attention back to the newspaper, attempting to shrug off the weight of the innuendo.

Anything that’s mine is yours. What a stupid thing to say. That almost sounded like a confession or some shit. One day in, and Levi's already screwing up with his words.

For the next minute, Levi tries his damn best to focus on his newspaper.

“Getting her beauty rest, huh?” Levi looks up; you're placing two cups of tea on the table, one pushed towards him, along with a plate for the infusers. You're eying Scout. “She seems glued to your side,” you muse, sitting down.

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

“In any case, it’s cute to see the two of you together.”

Levi turns the handle of his cup to his left side. “Please.”

“Can you imagine what everyone would say? The fearless Captain Levi, succumbing to a cat—”

"Quit talking and just drink your tea, would you?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “Aye, aye, captain."

For a moment, silence does fall, and his peripheral catches your chest rising and falling, something oddly quaint and peaceful about witnessing your breathing. You take to staring outside the window, looking at the view of the sea glimmering in the distance. He follows your line of sight, noting that there’s a buildup of crusted salt around the windows; Levi should really clean it off before summer ends.

“Hey, so,” you interrupt after a while, “I was thinking of going to the market today. Get a few things. Maybe find a job.”

Levi locks eyes with you. “A job?”

“Mm. Yeah. Something that makes sense for me...”

You want to get back to the medical field, already? You just got here.

“Why the hurry?"

“Well…" you say, "I don’t want to leech off you forever—”

“You're not.”

“Still, it'd be good for me, right?” You shoot a bright smile—something too bright about it. Levi's eyes narrow. “Anyway, you wanna join or what? You know... I’d love to meet all the nosy people you’ve told me about.”

Levi purses his lips, feeling as though you glossed over that subject much too quickly. A part of him wants to nudge you a bit, though his usual habit to just let you be kicks in. Whatever you're hiding, you have your reasons.

Levi considers your proposal. He knows it would be better if he didn’t join, seeing how damn foolish he’s already acting around you. He should try to set clear boundaries with you.

And yet—

“Sure,” comes out of him all the same.

Well, so much for that, anyway.

“You flew.”

You stand there, staring at the sight of the man as he finishes his round of training.

Levi shoots you a look, grappling with the hand grips. “I’m just using the ODM gear correctly.”

You take a step towards him. “No, but you’re amazing. You must know that, right? I’m not a soldier, but… I know talent when I see it.”

He gives you an odd look then, and before you have a chance to say anything else, propels himself in the air and disappears into the shadows of the forest.

At the market, Levi follows you around like a brooding shadow.

He’s in his wheelchair today. Behind him, you’re pushing him and asking questions about the scenery and the people and all sorts of trivial things.

(“Look, look there, all these teas. Have you tried any of them?”

“Some.”)

(“I'm gonna buy some flowers to plant in the gardens. Is that alright?”

“Do what you want.”)

(“Is the sea always as pretty?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, there's shit that gets carried in.”

"How poetic.")

(“Look, Levi! A car.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“I think I’d like to try driving. Get over my fear, you know?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, give me some credit! S’not so different from riding a horse, right?”

“You’ve got a few screws loose up there, you know that?”)

Well, Levi was never great at talking. Not that you seem to mind; you’ve always liked to ask him questions and fill in the blanks when needed. Most of the time, it’s the silence that sits comfortably between the two of you that Levi appreciates so much anyway. It just is, like a soft cloud fills the sky with shapes.

You're now moving next to him, calmly taking in the sight of the buzzing market. It's a little too busy for Levi's liking, but the sight of you distracts him: you’re wearing a sunhat with ribbons, coupled with your cotton overalls. Levi’s never seen you wear a hat like this one before, but he thinks it suits you.

“You should protect your skin from the sun,” you said earlier. “That’s why I wear a hat.”

“I didn’t come to the surface to run away from the sun,” he grumbled back, even if he did notice how warm summers in Marley truly are (and yes, he’d gotten sunburned on several occasions, and also yes, his injured eye stings every time the sun shines too brightly... but, still, Levi wouldn’t budge).

“Good morning, dear boy! What a surprise to see you here!” someone says, tearing Levi out of the thoughts.

Attached to that booming voice is none other than Levi's boss, Adam Jakowski.

Originally an Eldian from Marley, Mr Jakowski was one of the first residents that settled here in Mare. He quickly opened his carpentry shop, and when Levi moved in, he found a job there.

Today, however, Mr Jakowski isn't here for any carpentry-related trades. Every week-end, the man likes to come here and share the goods his wife makes.

"What brings you here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

“I was dragged out, believe it or not,” Levi answers, head bobbing towards you.

Next to him, he hears you snort.

“And who might this pretty young lady be? Are you the missus Ackerman, perchance?” Mr Jakowski asks, his tone carrying a curiosity only people genuinely interested in others are capable of mustering.

Levi feels his cheeks burn at the idea, but you just chuckle, swatting a hand in the air to dispel the notion. “No such thing, sir. But I am new to town and it pleases me all the same to make your acquaintance. Miss Adler, charmed to meet you.”

Levi’s thin brows knit together. It’s the first time he hears you introduce yourself without your profession tied in.

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

“Well met, Miss Adler… Well met, indeed! Ah, it is a pleasure to see new faces in Mare, especially a lovely one such as yours. Will you be staying here for a while?”

“Mm. Who knows?” You smile. “I can’t quite say yet, to tell the truth.”

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

“Anyway, what are you selling here, sir?” you ask, peering over the stall of the merchant, gazing at all the products and zeroing on a particular one: a red paste.

“The one you're eying is a paste from the eastern part of Marley, ma'am. It’s made with paprika and bell-peppers, you see. Great for inflammations and stomach issues,” the old man explains. He makes you smell it, then turns around to sprinkle it onto something. “You can coat it like so,” he raises a piece of bread that he smears with the red paste, “or add it to your cooking.”

He hands you the toast.

You bite into it, chewing for several moments as you raise a hand over your mouth. “Walls! It does have such a particular taste. It’s the aftertaste, right? Spicy.”

Your eyes wander to meet Levi’s, and you raise the bread slightly in his direction as if to inquire if he wants to taste it as well. Levi shakes his head, and you shoot him a smile, gulping down the rest of the food.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, drumming his left index in a series of five taps over his forearm—tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Next to him, he hears the way you engage in easy conversation, talking about the weather, how the region has adjusted to the influx of settlers, how you're looking for a job and how, yes, you’d love to meet his wife and daughter!

The rest flies over his head. Instead, Levi looks up at your sunhat again, admiring the way it hugs the shape of your skull, the way the ribbons flow gently with the breeze.

Levi wonders if he could buy you a hat. Or sew you a new ribbon. Would you accept his gifts?

At last, you seem convinced of the product and order three jars. This is the moment when Levi comes back to his senses, seeing you rummage through your pockets to find coins to pay for your purchase.

No such luck.

Levi beats you to it, slinging out the leather pouch his first squad gifted him many years ago, placing the change in Mr Jakowski's hands.

You blink, mouth parted, but Levi just plops the jars he receives into your bag, wheeling himself back.

He hears you fumble your goodbyes to Mr Jakowski, thanking him for his help, and at once, your voice is in his ears.

“Levi, why did you just pay?” you ask, tone bewildered.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

“I’m not." You stop in front of him, all stern-looking, hands on your hips. "You didn’t have to do that.”

Levi raises a defiant brow. “But I did, and it’s done.”

“Don’t make it sound so simple. You’re already letting me stay in your house for free. I intend to pay my dues, you know. I have money.”

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

“Complain again and I won’t let you pay for a damn thing.”

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

Levi swears he hears something along the lines of ‘I’ll just sneak it back into your pockets later’ whispered under your breath, but when he narrows his eyes in your direction, you feign a look of innocence.

After purchasing everything you wanted to purchase—a book on art, flower beds for the garden—you finally settle in a cozy little café on the town’s square. You order some pastries, while Levi takes his usual tea, the closest thing that resembles the tea from back home. You watch people from everywhere bustle by while Levi sips on his drink.

“Hey, look!” you point out suddenly. “I’ve never seen those birds before.”

You've pointed to a flock of birds of all colors, no larger than a fist. They’re hopping on the ground, scavenging for food. You get up, asking for some seeds from a waiter to feed them.

“Why did they migrate to this part of the world?” you wonder as you lay out food for them.

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the birds, nibbling the seeds, admiring the way their feathers seem foreign in this strange land.

Maybe, Levi thinks to himself, just like all the rest of this town, the birds were looking for a new home.

“You know, you should try to teach them.”

Levi’s bored expression swerves in your direction. You’re back to leaning on the window sill, while he sits on the rooftop. A routine, these last weeks.

“What?” Levi mutters.

“Your combat skills. I saw you at training again. I’ve never seen anything quite like the way you handle yourself. You should teach the other cadets.”

His eyes narrow. “Why would I do that?”

“You’ve been out there, right? Seen what the titans are like? You could save their lives.”

The square of Mare is quiet at this time of the evening. A half-moon hangs lazily over the black sky, casting its silver glow over Mare.

You’ve both been drinking. Cheap, bubbly, acidic. Cremant, a drink native to Marley. It was given to you by a shopkeeper when you picked up bread earlier—all it took was seeing you by his side and hearing you were new in town. The woman practically threw the bottle at you, offering it as a welcome gift. You tried to refuse, many times over, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer (“We need young blood around, so anythin’ to convince younglings like yourself to settle down!”).

Now, here you are, finishing the bottle together in a park. Levi sits with you on a bench, his wheelchair tucked behind it.

Silence.

Levi thinks there’s something on your mind. You’ve never been easy to read; you’ve got a tendency to hide and scheme, to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it’s always your lips that give you away. You bite them when you’re worried, you pout when you’re deep in thoughts.

“Hey.” Levi raises your attention, only to find gentle eagerness on your face. It makes him frown for some reason. “Say something.”

You seem a little taken aback by his directive. It’s rare for Levi to actually seek conversation after all, much less to be the one initiating it.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask.

Levi shrugs. “I don’t know, just anything.”

“Like… what?”

Levi mulls it over. If it were him, he’d hate to be put on the spot and asked outright what to say. So he decides to try a tactic he’s seen you use on others—starting with something light before finding the right angle to tackle the actual subject.

“What was your favorite sight?” he inquires. “On your travels.”

“My… favorite sight?”

Levi gives you a look that makes it clear he’s not gonna repeat himself.

“The sea, of course.” You raise your feet on the bench, hugging your knees as you stare off pensively. “It’s funny, really. With every nation we visited, we saw mountains, deserts and forests… but I kept coming back to the sea.”

Levi remembers the first time he saw the sea. The water, glimmering like thousands of silver gems. The blue sky, coming to meet its shine. The 104th brats, with awestruck wonder. Hange and their brazen curiosity.

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

If ever there was a moment of peace during Levi’s years as a soldier, it was those blissful hours spent by the sea. It felt like the world had grown so big, and that there was only wonder to be discovered.

Of course, reality had caught up.

“I’m glad you’ve picked a place like this one to settle down,” you say. "It kind of feels like a homecoming, you know?"

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

This past year, Levi has rediscovered an admiration for stars. Back inside the Walls, they reminded him of Isabel and Furlan, of his dreams from another life. This past year, they’ve started making him think of you, too.

All because of one of your letters: 'Levi, do you ever think about the fact that, despite the distance that separates us, every night, when we look at the sky, we see the same stars?'

“What else,” he finds himself asking, “what else do you have to say about your travels?”

“Hmm… what do you want to know exactly? I wrote so much in my letters, I’d have thought you’d be tired of hearing about that topic.”

“Yeah, but you only described random shit. What was it like?”

What was it like without me?

That thought hangs on his tongue, begs for relief, but Levi bites it down. It’s not right for him to ask; it's none of his business.

And yet, your answer still takes him by surprise, “It was… hard.”

At that, Levi does raise a brow. He finds your gaze already on him.

“The sights were... nice, of course,” you explain. “I got to witness all manners of landscapes. Those were the photographs I sent you in my letters. But then, well, the rest came.”

You swallow loudly. Levi finds his heart squeezing, though he doesn’t fully understand why.

“Seeing the aftermath of the Rumbling…” Your lower lip quivers as the volume of your tone decreases. “It was horrifying. The emptiness was the worst. It’s not like murdering someone in cold blood, see. There, you have to deal with bodies. But, what Eren did…”

You shudder. Levi thinks you’re trying to even out your breathing, and a part of him wants to reach out to you and squeeze your hand. And yet, he knows there’s nothing he can do to really alleviate those images flashing in your brain. That nothing he does can make it right again, that the pain you feel is the cost both of you need to bear for the rest of your lives.

“After that, I went with Armin because I knew he would need help, because I always believed in diplomacy… because I still believe in it. Even now," you say. "But many nations hate the Eldians from Paradis. They hate us and maybe they have every right to hate us.”

You stop talking and close your eyes. For a while, the lull in conversation allows Levi to stare at you unabashedly, to commit your features to memory.

“Why did you never say any of this in your letters?” he asks mid-silence.

“I guess it felt easier not to mention it. I don’t know. I wanted you to hear hopeful things in my letters.”

“I’ve seen how shitty the world can be.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why.” Your eyes somehow find his own again. “That’s why I didn’t want you to know it’s still the same out there.”

It makes Levi’s blood rush, like he was some breakable thing that needed to be protected. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

And yet, you don’t even seem to notice the snap in his tone, your crossed arms tightening around your knees.

“I know, Levi,” you whisper. “But that doesn’t mean that my pain is your burden to bear.”

Seeing your deflated expression, dipped chin resting over your knees as you lose yourself to your thoughts, Levi’s defense mechanism fizzles away.

That’s the thing about you.

No matter how harshly he reacts, you never seem to rise to the same level as him, the way others did in the military, and it might be why Levi always found it easier to stay by your side.

“You dumbass,” he says with a sigh. Despite telling himself to hone it back, Levi can’t help but raise a hand to the back of your skull, ruffling your head gently—the only comfort he knows how to hand out right now. “Of course that’s my burden.”

The knot in your throat bobs. “Levi, you don’t—”

“Don’t give me that.” He pauses, the words heavy on his tongue. “Even I no longer have the rank to prove it… what does it matter? Nothing’s changed.”

Your voice comes out grated. “Nothing’s changed?”

Levi hesitates. So much hangs on this question. Of course, things have changed.

And yet…

Levi retreats his hand, patting his stiff leg. “Some things did.”

“Oh... does it still hurt a lot?”

“Some days more than others. The doctor has helped.”

“I’m glad. Are you still seeing him every other week?”

He nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Levi's eyes narrow. “You said that already.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He sighs, shaking his head. “Anyway, you gonna tell me why you stopped calling yourself a doctor?”

Different degrees of surprise flash across your face. Your eyes are wide as saucers, while your mouth stays slightly open.

Levi waits... and waits.

“Hey, you’re not trying to catch flies, are you?” he says, lifting a finger to poke at your chin.

His physical reminder seems to bring you back to the present.

At once, a pout forms on your lips. “How did you know I no longer want to be a doctor?”

Levi shrugs with one arm, pressing his back against the bench. “I guessed, and you just confirmed it.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly." You let out a wry snort, shaking your head. "Should have known; you’re always so perceptive.”

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

“Indeed, I am. It’s just… I’m scared of your judgment.”

At that, Levi has to frown.

“Don’t give me that look, Levi Ackerman. Your judgment, yes. You’re a very scary man, just not for all the reasons people think you are.”

In the distance, the sound of seagulls drifts from the skies.

“When I asked you if I could come here…” you say after a moment, “I kept on thinking to myself: What will Levi think of me?” You raise one hand to your face, glancing at the scar that runs from your index to the lower part of your palm—a memento left by the Yaegerists. “What will he think of this hand?”

Levi stays silent.

Your smile turns bitter. “You always said my hands were made for healing. But after everything that happened, everything we did, they’re not anymore. They can’t be.”

“Hey—”

“—and the question kept playing in a loop in my head. Will Levi think I’m a coward? Will he think less of me for giving up on this? Is he gonna be done with me?”

Levi ignores all the ways you seem to include him in your insecurities and focuses on one thing only: “You’re a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

You shake your head. “But I am a coward. I don’t have it in me to heal people, not like that anymore.”

Levi doesn’t know why, but there’s suddenly a sense of dread forming in his pit of his stomach. “Is that why you’re here?”

Your eyes fire back on him. “No, I didn’t come here to escape, or as a last resort.” You glance away. “But I do feel… lost.”

That makes Levi backtrack. You? Lost? The doctor who blazed through the Survey Corps’ ranks, making her demands known to the Interior and Erwin like it was no big deal, who pushed for changes to save soldiers' lives?

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, the path I chose.” Your tone is suddenly more frail, more vulnerable. “The first three years after the Rumbling, it felt like the right thing to do, giving my skills in helping others but now… Now I feel like a fraud. To arrive here, I had to end lives.”

Levi’s throat is heavy. “We all did.”

You ignore his words. “The attack in Trost, the one in Liberio, and so many others…. I killed people there. I did. And I remember your words, Levi, about it being us or them but I… now, whenever I look at my hands, all I see is the stain of blood. After all of that, I just don’t think I’m fit to call myself a doctor anymore.”

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

“Maybe. But it's easier said than done.”

“Is that why you’re now calling yourself Miss Adler?”

You nod.

Levi purses his lips. He cannot understand your perspective, not truly, because his own moral compass has never been set right. To him, killing was always about survival and there was never good or bad. There simply was the act and the aftermath. There was the fact that he needed to keep on pushing, for humanity.

Despite this, Levi wants to understand. He wants to tell you that your hands did heal, that they continue to heal in invisible ways. He wants to tell you that however you want to become want, it’s all fine to him.

“Then start over,” he declares, throwing an arm to the back of the bench.

“Yeah.” You snort, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric of your overalls. “It’s not that easy, starting over, is it?”

“Never said it was.” Levi would know. It’s not like he’s here to preach the moral high ground. “But if you want to, you’re the only one that can make it happen.”

“Yeah, I know.” You raise a hand to press against your right eye. Levi has the strange urge to tuck it away, to take it in between his own, but he holds himself back. “It’s just… hard. You know, when we were fighting titans, then humans, then nations… I just never considered who I would be after all of it. And when I found myself trying, I found I wasn’t the person I once was, that I couldn’t do what I would have done any more. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Old me would have kept on going. Old me would have continued to heal people and traveled and helped Armin with peace negotiations. And I tried. Walls, I tried, Levi. But at the end of the day, I just find myself… tired. I’m just so tired.”

Something heavy fills Levi’s chest. He understands, to a degree, what you’re going through. He knew his role was over the moment that the fighting stopped, but for you, the war hasn’t stopped raging—conflicted on where your place should be.

“Sorry," you say, "I know I’m wallowing here, that I’m throwing my own pity party. But, shit, it’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah. But it’s fine, to wallow. No one expects you not to have setbacks.”

“You don’t mean that. Weren’t you always telling soldiers not to linger and look back? Besides, I don’t get to say any of this in front of you. Not with everything you went through.”

Levi’s jaw clenches. “Hey. It’s not a competition.”

This time, he reaches for your hand and unclasps it, noticing you digging your nails into your skin. He forces you to squeeze his hand instead—only, now, you treat him with such care, not even applying pressure.

Levi takes it as his cue to drive his point home, “I only said what I said because a Scout’s life was a battlefield every day. But we’re not soldiers anymore.”

He sucks in a breath at those words; he realizes it’s the first time he acknowledges it out loud: We're not soldiers anymore. Levi's a hypocrite, saying these things, when he himself hasn’t let go completely. And yet, for your sake, he wants to pretend—he wants to pretend that there’s a way out for the both of you.

“So I’ve told you, the offer still stands," he adds. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

“Careful what you promise, Levi." You snort. "I’m going to be a real burden to you.”

“Only when you don’t clean.”

Your weak snicker turns into laughter. It might be the most enchanting of sounds Levi’s heard in a long while.

Levi lets go of your hand, despite the fact that he wishes he could hold on, but he tells himself that friends don’t hold each other’s hands for prolonged moments. And that's what the two of you are. Friends.

“You know, when it came down to it… after months of introspection,” you say, voice soft, “all I knew is that I wanted to be near you.”

Oh.

“I stayed away for a year, thinking I could prove to myself, to you, that I wasn’t the needy person I once was," you say. "That I could, I don’t know, manage on my own. But all I got was… how much I missed you.”

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

“Levi, you’re… you’re important to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes find his own, glimmering under the moonlight. “I think… I just don’t want to not have you in my life anymore. Is that a strange thing to say?”

Levi is speechless. He stares at your lips, how plump and lovely they seem, glistening with moisture. He feels sweat on his back—damn this hellish warm weather—and he thinks perhaps he should act.

He forces his mouth open but instead of words—

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

Levi screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. There’s screams echoing in the back of his skull, bullets ricocheting against concrete. He smells the charred scent of bodies, sweet and off-putting.

But the fighting never comes. When he evens out his breathing, leaning his weight onto the bench, he notices—

You’re on the floor.

Your hands are covering your ears, your lower lip wobbling. You’re muttering things under your breath, things Levi can’t recognize, but there’s tears brimming the corner of your eyes, and Levi realizes then what happened.

You’re hyperventilating.

At once, Levi is by your side, bending down. The action causes his legs to scream in pain, but he promptly ignores it. He sees you and only you.

You, on the other hand, are unable to look at him; you whimper erratically.

Levi can deduce the source of your panic, because he’s had his own moments like this. It’s the way certain noises, smells, and others pull him back into the past. It must be the same for you.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice comes low and clear, trying to muster it all for you, “take a deep breath. It's not guns. Just fireworks some teenagers are toying with.”

But you seem unable to follow his advice, shaken as you are. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears clumping, streaming thick down the valleys of your cheeks. He sees your fingers pull at the strands of your hair.

Before he can think about it, his arms reach out of you, looping around the small of your back, where he draws you in. He presses you firmly against him. At first, you attempt to fight him back, muttering “no, no, no,” beneath your breath, but when Levi finally manages to smooth over your words with his own, you stop fighting.

Your head slumps down into the crest of his shoulder, like you were just a ragdoll gone limp. Levi tries to ignore the way his worry doubles down.

“Adler, listen to my voice,” he urges, trying to use things that have helped him during his worst panic attacks, during his worst episodes. Of course, Levi never allowed anyone to see him like this, but if he had, he thinks this would have helped. “Your ear’s pressed against my heart right now. Do you hear my heartbeat?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, voice barely a raw whisper. The sound is enough to shatter something in Levi. It’s so small, so fragile.

“Focus on it," he says. "Focus on me speaking. Pretend that it’s the only sound in the world.”

You seem to attempt to laugh, but it comes across as another nervous sob, hiccups strangling your words. “S-someone thinks h-ighly of his v-voice.”

Levi just clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on you.

Your hands interweave with the collar of his shirt, and you bury your face deeper into his neck. It takes several moments, but he feels the tension in your spine untangle, vertebrate by vertebrate.

“Steady,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You’re alright.”

Your warm lips, drenched with tears, move against his neck. “I just can’t do it, ‘Vi… I just can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m fucking stuck and I feel so guilty there’s always noises in my brain…” A sob cracks out of you. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“But you’re not alone.”

Your knuckles tighten, but your breath falters.

“You’re not alone,” Levi repeats. His three-fingered hand weaves through the hair at the back of your skull, mingling between your locks. He’s reminded of another time, long ago, when he did this after Nanaba died. “Even if you feel lost right now.”

“I just—I don’t want to be a bother. I don't want to overstay my w-welcome.”

“You’re not. You can stay as long as you want.” Until you grow tired of me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You’re still hiccuping for air as you draw away from him. You seem to be searching for something, dazed and blurry.

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

"I... I guess not."

For a while, neither Levi nor you say anything else. He watches as your eyes cast down, eyelashes still full of tears. Your breath is back to being steady, though no less frail.

Eventually, your digits settle over his forearms, looking back at him with puffy eyes.

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket.

You take it with a crooked smile, staring down at the white cloth. “Thank you, Levi. I mean it.”

Levi looks away; he doesn't think he's done much.

“Walls.” You hiccup, lifting the handkerchief to your eyes. “I’ve made a scene, haven’t I? It’s the alcohol, I s-swear. I barely d-drink these days.”

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

“Well, judging by the brats walking towards us," he looks over your shoulders, "they’ve come to apologize.”

Sure enough, moments later, as you help Levi up and you both sit back down on the bench, three snotty kids approach the scene with a look of apology plastered on their faces.

One of them, a boy with vibrant ginger hair, takes the lead. “Ma’am… are you alright?”

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

“She’s not fine, brat,” Levi interjects. “Don’t light this shit up in public.”

The boy grimaces with the kind of juvenile innocence only kids can muster.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say, giving Levi a look. “But hey, do try to be careful, ‘kay? Don’t light up things like this all on your own. Fireworks are dangerous, not to mention they’re scary when they’re up so close.”

“I... I won't do it no more, ma’am…" the boy says. "I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

The boy nods before finally fleeting up and meeting Levi's glare. The child instantly cowers back.

“Mistakes happen," Levi grumbles with a softer tone. "Just be more careful.”

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

Erwin finds you in the stables one day. “Levi is integrating with the squad.”

You stop cleaning your horse, raising a brow at the man. “Is he now?”

“Mm." There's wistful amusement on Erwin's face. "He's giving advice to his comrades.”

"Is that right?"

That night, when you greet Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary, you don't say a thing about this exchange, but you'll smile just a bit brighter at him anyway.

Levi comes back from his evening shower to find something waiting for him in his bedroom. A piece of paper, carefully folded in three, is placed on his cabinet. Next to it is a medium-sized, black pouch.

Levi first unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find that it’s a letter and that it’s from you.

Levi, You’ll excuse me for coming in without asking, but you insinuated I should make myself comfortable, so… Here I am. You know, if you're going to let me pay for things, then it’s decided: I’m going to bribe you with new tea! No, you can’t fight me on that. As you know, I’m a force of nature—unstoppable. Here’s a new blend for you. I know for certain you haven’t tried this one because it’s straight from my travels. I don’t know why I waited a week to give it to you, but I hope you like it. Your amazing new roomie, - A.

Levi’s lips twitch. He can just picture you scribbling those words in your room, a grin on your face, waiting for him to take a shower just so you can place this handout in secret.

He briefly puts the letter back down, moving to open the gift. The black pouch hides a tea tin of simple design, with an etiquette that’s handwritten. White pu-erh tea. He slowly unscrews the sealed top, bringing it close to his nose to inhale its potent fragrant. Tea aromas, rich in citrus, fill his brain with a lovely buzzing effect. It smells nice, unlike anything he’s encountered before and Levi thinks its taste will be to his liking—that you picked it knowing it would.

His eyes stray back to the letter, picking it back up. He loves the way you write his name, the way you loop the letters together. It's elegant.

With his heart just a bit lighter than usual, Levi adds your letter to the chest under his bed, filled with the rest of your correspondence.

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

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levisonlylover · 1 year ago

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Secret romance in the Survey Corps

Fem!reader x Levi// a bit ooc//fluff//spoilers// A/N: It might be a bit messy since this was a bit rushed, hope this is okay

Levi would bring you tea whenever you are working late in the office. it could be paired with your favorite pastry.

Levi would stand beside you, maybe when going on a flight of stairs, he would have his hand behind your back for support

During meetings, he is always seen seated beside you or in front of you.

when sitting, he puts his arm on your chair as Erwin or Hange discusses the plans

At night, Levi would visit your barrack and sometimes stay there to cuddle up beside you or even listen to you ramble

at night, Levi would take you to the rooftop and look at the stars as he watches you admire the stars

When cleaning, he would assist you, whether dusting or mopping. And when both of you are alone, he would kiss your cheek in a split second.

when it comes to missions, Levi tends to become protective over you. He makes sures you are not out of his sight. He does not want to lose anyone dear, especially you.

During rainy days on missions, Levi would look for you, the memories flood back at him when it happens.

After missions, when you aren't injured, he'd take you to his office and tells you he is glad that you are safe.

After missions, when you are injured, Levi tends to worry ten times more. looking at your injuries with his stoic facade, when deep down in his heart, he worries.

During season 3, Levi catches you staring at him, the gray shirt almost hugging his form.

Season 3!Levi would shield you from anyone and whispering sweet stuff, making sure you're the only person to hear it.

During the rumbling, Levi was severely injured, but not too injured to make sure you are okay

During the rumbling, Levi would do his best to protect you from the generations of Titans.

In the aftermath of the rumbling, When you find him, Levi tends to tear up and try his best to hug you, not caring if anyone sees. he is just grateful you are okay

Post-war!Levi will make you stay with him in Marley to grow your relationship with him

#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi aot #aot #captain levi #aot levi #levi heichou #levi #levi fluff #rivaille heichou #levi x reader #snk levi #snk #rivaille ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x you

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gingersnap-17 · 7 months ago

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Life After War (Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader)

Authors Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry it has been such a long time! I recently got married, and me and my husband have been working full time, so I have not really had any time to write! But, my goal is to write at least one to two stories per week! I know I usually write JJK stuff, but today I am going to write a short story around the Attack on Titan world!

Summary: After the battle of Heaven and Earth, Levi has been having a hard time adjusting to life. But, thanks to Y/N, post war life has been easier.

Word Count: 1276

In the aftermath of the Battle of Heaven and Earth, the world had changed drastically. The titans were gone, and the remnants of humanity began to rebuild their lives in a world free from the fear that had oppressed them for so long. However, for Levi Ackerman, the struggle was far from over. The battle had left him with severe injuries, both visible and hidden deep within his soul.

Levi’s body was a testament to the brutality of war. His once agile and powerful frame was now marred with scars and stiffened by the lingering pain of his wounds. His right hand, a vital tool for his blade work, was damaged beyond repair. The bandages that covered his injuries were a constant reminder of his limitations, a bitter pill for someone who had always relied on his physical prowess. The stoic captain found himself in an unfamiliar place: vulnerable and dependent.

Levi spent most of his days in a small, modest apartment in a city that was untouched by the rumbling, far from the small island he once called home. The apartment was a gift from Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. A place where he could find solace and recover at his own pace. Despite the peaceful surroundings, Levi was restless. He felt caged by his injuries, haunted by the faces of those he had lost, and burdened by a future that seemed uncertain.

Luckily though, Levi still had you in his life. Out of all the friends and comrades he has had over the years, you were the one who managed to survive and stick by his side. The two of you had been in a romantic relationship only two months after the discovery of the Ocean and lands beyond Paridis.

Despite the tranquil setting, Levi's restlessness was palpable. Each day, the battle replayed in his mind, a relentless loop of bloodshed and loss. The faces of fallen comrades haunted him, their sacrifices etched deeply into his memory. He often found himself staring at the bandages on his hand, a grim reminder of his altered reality.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city, you entered the apartment. You had been out getting some groceries, hoping to lift Levi’s spirits with some of his favorite foods and of course his favorite tea. The moment you walked in, you could sense his unease. His eyes, though still sharp, held a distant look, as if he were lost in a world of his own making.

"Levi," you called softly, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. "I brought some tea. Thought it might help you relax."

He turned to you, his gaze softening slightly. "Thank you," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "You always know what I need."

You approached him, taking a seat beside him on the small sofa. "How are you feeling today?" you asked, gently placing your hand on his.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "It's...difficult," he admitted. "Being like this, unable to do the things I used to...it’s frustrating."

You only nod your head, standing up to prepare some tea for him. Over the years, you learned how to make tea to his liking. “I know how this has been hard on you, but you have my love and support, and the love and support of other people who care deeply for you.”

Levi watched as you prepared the tea, the familiar routine providing a small measure of comfort. He appreciated your unwavering support, though he struggled to express it in words. As you handed him the steaming cup, he took it gratefully, savoring the aroma.

"Thank you," he said again, this time with a bit more strength. "I don't say it enough, but I’m grateful for you every day."

You smiled warmly, giving him a kiss before sitting back down beside him. "And I'm grateful for you too. We'll find a way to move forward together. It has been hard and it has taken some time, but we are all figuring out this new life."

He only gave a quiet nod in response, which was something you had expected and grown quite used to over the years. The rest of the evening, the two of you sat together in the peace of your apartment, sharing positive memories of life before the war.

—————————————————————————

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Levi began to find solace in the small, simple pleasures of life. One day, while you were out for a walk together, Levi stopped in front of a quaint, abandoned shop. The building was worn and dusty, but it had a certain charm to it.

"This place," Levi said, looking at it with a contemplative expression. "It could be something...something good."

You held onto his arm to help support him as you followed his gaze, seeing the potential in the old shop. "What do you have in mind?" you asked, already having an idea of what he was thinking. This was something he would bring up quite often when you first started your relationship.

"A tea shop," he replied. "A place where people can come and find a moment of peace. I’ve always found comfort in tea...maybe others will too."

You smiled, making a mental note to yourself that you just knew what he was going to say. "I think that’s a wonderful idea, Levi. We can make it happen."

With determination set on making this space something new, the two of you set to work on transforming the old shop. It was a labor of love, one that brought you both closer together. Levi, despite his injuries, poured his heart into the project. You handled the heavy lifting and intricate tasks, while Levi directed and contributed with his keen eye for detail.

The shop slowly came to life, the walls adorned with simple, elegant decorations and shelves lined with a variety of teas. Levi's favorite blends were prominently displayed, along with some new ones you had discovered together. The space was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the changed world outside.

“In all honesty, I think this place is going to be pretty popular.” You said, putting some books on a bookshelf to give the tea shop more character.

Levi was currently organizing the stock of teas, agreeing to what you had said. “I only hope it does. We spent a lot of our money on this place.”

You smile, heading over to Levi as you gently rubbed his shoulders. “Trust me, everyone will love it here. Besides, this is the first tea shop in town, so I’d expect people to be drawn into our place.” You knelt down next to where Levi was, helping him get a proper stock of each blend. “….What if once a month we can do story time and have the children in this town come with their parents? You could read to them!”

Levi looked at you, giving an unamused look. “I don’t know about that. Kids just pick their nose and make things all dirty.”

You fondly roll your eyes, knowing that your stubborn lover will eventually come around to the idea. “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

—————————————————————————

On the day of the grand opening, a small crowd gathered outside the shop. Among them were Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon, their faces beaming with pride and excitement. As Levi and you stood at the entrance, ready to welcome the first customers, he took your hand in his, a rare but cherished gesture of affection he made in public.

"Thank you," he said softly, looking into your eyes. "For believing in me, and for helping me find a new purpose."

You squeezed his hand, your heart full of love and admiration. "Always, Levi. This is just the beginning."

The doors opened, and people began to fill the shop, their faces lighting up as they took in the serene atmosphere. Levi moved among them with a quiet grace, offering recommendations and sharing stories behind the different teas. You watched him, seeing the man you loved finding joy in bringing comfort to others.

The tea shop quickly became a beloved fixture in the community. It was a place where people could escape the chaos of the world and find a moment of peace. Levi's reputation as a skilled and compassionate host grew, and so did the bonds he formed with the people who visited.

As the sun set on the shop’s first day, you and Levi sat together, sipping tea and reflecting on the journey that had brought you here. The future still held uncertainties, but you faced them together.

In the aftermath of the battle, the world had indeed changed drastically. But amid the ruins, you and Levi had built something beautiful—something that honored the past while embracing the future. And in that small tea shop, you found a haven where love, resilience, and the simple pleasure of a well-brewed cup of tea could heal even the deepest wounds.

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shiorihyuga · 5 months ago

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Masterlist

This is my BACKUP ACCOUNT follow me @shiorihyugawrites for the latest updates to my fics❤️

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Tides of Fate: In a world where powerful creatures known as sirens come to the shores of Paradis, the scouts are thrust into an unexpected alliance—one that is sealed through an ancient and seductive bonding ritual. Each siren has chosen a mate, and through their connection, the scouts are granted extraordinary powers. But with this newfound strength comes complexity, lust, and tension.

Steadfast Hearts: In the aftermath of war, Dr. Tiana Belrose, a brilliant Androsian engineer, arrives in Paradis with cutting-edge technology and her country's hopes on her shoulders. Assigned to be her guard, Captain Levi Ackerman, known for his discipline, finds himself drawn to her. As battles against Marley rage on, their unexpected romance blossoms amidst political intrigue and rising tensions. {Levi x OC}

A Soft Place: In a post-Rumbling world, where the threat of Titans no longer looms, Vanessa Sinclair finds herself living a quiet life, working at her family’s bakery in Wall Rose. Curvy and self-conscious, Vanessa has always faded into the background, overshadowed by her more outgoing friends. But everything changes when Captain Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest Soldier, begins visiting the bakery regularly. What starts as a simple exchange of tea and pastries quickly evolves into something more. Levi, drawn to her quiet strength and beauty, takes Vanessa on a journey that forces her to confront her insecurities, while learning that sometimes, what lies beneath the surface is more than enough. {Levi x Plus Sized OC}

Diamond Of The First Water: In the aftermath of war, Paradis seeks alliances, leading to a political marriage between Captain Levi Ackerman and Princess Solina of Valoria. Initially a strategic move, their bond deepens as they face royal customs, public scrutiny, and the looming threat of Marley. Both unprepared for the complexities of a political union, Solina's naivety and Levi's guarded heart are tested. As love grows amidst war and duty, they must overcome challenges that threaten to tear them apart. Will their love survive, or will forces conspire to keep them from finding peace? {Levi x OC}

The Devil's Bride: Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, reunites with him in Marley, reigniting an unexpected bond. After breaking her vow of pacifism to save Eren, they secretly marry before the Raid on Liberio, drawing Aurora into his chaotic world. As the Scouts learn of her, tensions rise, with Mikasa heartbroken and Levi demanding answers. Eren is determined to protect Aurora, the only light in his dark world. As war rages, Aurora must reconcile her gentle heart with Eren’s transformation, while he confronts the reality of who he’s become. {Eren x OC}

The Ballad Of The Magenta Witch (Coming Soon): In the aftermath of the devastating attack on Liberio, the scouts are desperate for new allies to secure Paradis' survival. Enter Mea, an enigmatic sorceress known as the "Magenta Witch," who harbors a tragic past shrouded in betrayal and magic that defies time itself. With her loyal and bizarre companion, Goldfish Levi—a goldfish transformed by immortality—they arrive at Paradis, bringing a storm of intrigue, power, and mystery. As Mea's allure and ancient power stir the scouts' skepticism and curiosity, tensions rise when she sets her sights on the stoic and battle-hardened Eren Jaeger. Amidst the looming threat of war and shifting loyalties, Mea must confront the ghosts of her past while deciding if a new bond is worth risking everything for. (Eren x OC)

........

Aot One Shots:

Eren:

Karma

The Dumpster Behind The Club

Levi:

Letting Go

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artbyblastweave · 5 months ago

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Any ideas to connect SU Diamonds and Worm Entities for a crossover?

For the past three years and change, I've been kicking around the idea of the Gempire as the residual result of an entity that botched its own cycle so badly that the central Zion-style figurehead holding the entire operation together is a hundred-thousand-year-gone memory. The result amounts to an entity with serious brain damage; The gems retain elements of the original programming for the cycle- namely, the ability to create anthromorphized avatars reflective of the local culture, and the drive to reproduce and consume planets to perpetuate themselves- but they've completely lost the plot on other important elements, namely the importance of hybridizing with local host species, their historical record, the full extent of their dimensional manipulation capabilities, best practices for resource extraction, and, most crucially, mutation, change and innovation as a desirable outcome.

Rather than an avatar, White Diamond is an intelligence analogous to a Endbringer or Titan who slid into the vacant role as the next-most-powerful autonomous portion of the network, holding the consolidated, stretched-thin remains of the original Network together by her fingernails while also deleteriously superimposing her own residual instinct from her original role onto the entire network- namely, to pacify, homogenize and sterilize host planets if and when a cycle is beginning to get out of control. This hybridized with residual data from previous host species that caused the gempire to organize in a fascimile of imperial structures encountered back when their cycle was still functional; essentially "Playing House" at the societal level, aping the culture of a host species without really remembering why.

The result of this is a "cycle" that's bad at everything it's supposed to do but effective enough that it limps on regardless- supremely energy inefficient, stripping planets bare rather than experimenting, and utterly developmentally stagnant. In the unlikely event that an entity were to cross paths with the Gempire, they'd have an uncanny-valley reaction to it and likely attempt to euthanize it, but compared to most entities the Gempire is tiny- while Shards canonically deploy in the hundreds of millions, the gems tend to reproduce only a few tens of thousands of themselves each time they claim a planet, and they usually only strip mine the handful of "active" worlds that would feature in a normal cycle rather than obliterating all dimensional iterations of it.

Yellow, Blue and eventually Pink are similar constructs to White, brought online to assist her in the project after the "imperial" territorial holdings grew too vast to micromanage. Unfortunately (for the cycle) another one of the things that got lost in translation were the controls meant to keep individual shards from developing autonomy or attachment-to-hosts. When the Gempire hit Earth, Pink Diamond and a significant contingent of the network, after patterning themselves after humans and spending a significant amount of time on the ground, pulled a fragile-one and went native, leading to a localized civil war that ended under unclear circumstances when the other the diamonds glassed the planet from orbit and pulled back their operations to prevent whatever affected the rebels from spreading.

All of this happened about 8000 years before the events of Worm, in a universe about 43 dimensions down the line from anything seen in the Earth Bet Cluster; due to the Gempire having mutated so much as to no longer be immediately recognizable as fellow Entities, and with so few active gems left on the planet in the aftermath of the rebellion, Zion ignored the crystal gems and folded them away into the inaccessible dimensional space, where the events of the show played out much as they did in SU canon. Ironically, Steven is the first ever example of this cycle successfully empowering a host, in the most roundabout way possible.

In my notes, and in keeping with the religious-theme-naming of the canon entities, I usually refer to this whole situation as Nirvana (what else would you call it when they break the cycle?)

#worm #wormblr #parahumans #wildbow #worm fanfiction #worm crossover

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shiorihyugawrites · 3 months ago

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Masterlist

My original account got randomly terminated 🙃 so here we are building from scratch guys!

Backup account incase Tumblr acts a fool again and terminates me here: @shiorihyuga

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Currently Working On:

Steadfast Hearts: In the aftermath of global war, alliances are forged, and new bonds are tested. Dr. Tiana Belrose, a brilliant Androsian engineer, arrives in Paradis with cutting-edge technology, her country's hopes on her shoulders, and a guarded heart. Her brilliant inventions are the reason why Marley invaded and ravaged her country, but Tiana refuses to sit back and do nothing.

Assigned to be her personal guard, the stoic and battle-hardened Captain Levi Ackerman is known for his discipline, but as they spend countless hours together, he finds himself drawn to the woman he’s sworn to protect.

In the midst of battles against Marley, political intrigue, and the weight of their responsibilities, an unexpected romance begins to blossom between two unlikely hearts. As tensions rise on the battlefield and within their own ranks, Levi and Tiana must navigate their feelings in a world that doesn’t allow for weakness.

Love was the last thing either of them expected to find in the midst of war, but it may be the only thing that saves them. (Levi x Black OC)

The Devil's Bride: Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Diamond Of The First Water: In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

The Ballad Of The Magenta Witch: After centuries of solitude and betrayal, the enigmatic and powerful sorceress Mea finds herself drawn to the war-torn lands of Paradis. With her loyal, sword-wielding companion Goldfish Levi at her side, Mea arrives in the midst of a brewing conflict between the Scouts and Marley. Her flippant demeanor and extraordinary magic disrupt the regimented lives of Eren, Levi, and the other Scouts, sparking chaos, curiosity, and alliances that none of them could have foreseen. Amidst the clashing of titans and nations, a forgotten legend breathes life into a new chapter that will shape the fate of Paradis itself. Will the Magenta Witch be a boon to their cause or a force of beautiful destruction? (Eren x OC)

The Legendary Black Cat: Selena de la Rosa, known across Marley as the Legendary Black Cat, is the world's deadliest assassin—a master of agility, precision, and deception. When Marley turns against her, she is shipped to Paradis as a living weapon, chained and drugged, with her survival all but assured to be short-lived. But Selena is no ordinary prisoner.

Bound by no one, loyal to none, Selena plots her next move, determined to seize her freedom by any means necessary. Yet, her plans are complicated by the Scouts who captured her, particularly Captain Levi Ackerman—the so-called Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Selena is intrigued by his strength and reputation, but her pride refuses to acknowledge him as her equal.

Caught between Levi’s unrelenting gaze, Selena plays a dangerous game of manipulation. She’s biding her time, but when the moment comes, will her calculated escape bring her freedom—or will her path collide violently with Levi’s unwavering resolve?

The Black Cat has always landed on her feet, but for the first time, she might meet her match. (Levi x OC)

Coming Soon:

Nothing...for now 😉

Completed Stories:

As the bonds grow Mikasa’s jealousy threatens to unravel her. But the real danger lies not just in broken hearts, but in the lurking threat of Marley and those who seek to capture the sirens for their gain.

Power, desire, and duty collide, forcing the Scouts to navigate new emotions and alliances in ways they never imagined. Through danger, love, and sacrifice, the tides of fate will decide if their world will rise or fall. (Eren, Levi, Floch, Jean, Armin, Connie, Bertholdt, Reiner x OCs)

One Shots:

Eren x Reader

The Dumpster Behind The Club

Karma

Power Trip

Levi x Reader

Letting Go

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mothnem · 1 year ago

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Okay! This is based on a post where Godzilla dies instead of Mothra, and if I knew how to link posts on mobile I would.

But this is how I imagine the aftermath would be.

Monarch discovers an unknown egg, but Mothra is viciously protecting it. One day it hatches and out tumbles a baby Godzilla. Not a Rebirth of her beloved King, but an heir. However, this leads to her savagely keeping the other Titans in line... it's almost as if the gentle Queen died with her King.

Since humans were involved in the death of Godzilla, she only tolerates them now. Although there are a few exceptions. All in Monarch.

Well, for an MvK event, Mothra is out to eliminate threats to her son, Junior. Thus her attack on Kong. There is no reason for her to believe he won't harm a baby Godzilla. And MechaGodzilla? A twisted facsimile of her beloved, built on the bones of him and his greatest enemy.

Now, Junior hasn't been able use his beam yet. Which is how he got captured. In fact, that was the original reason Mothra attacked the first Apex facility. She was looking for Junior. Maddie, Josh, and Burnie find the baby Godzilla, and realize that's why Mothra is rampaging. Simmons intended to celebrate his fully functional Mecha by having it kill Junior.

So Mothra manages to beat Kong. She's slightly better off than him. But MechaGodzilla is loose now. And it has Junior as a hostage. So Mothra is trying to rescue her Godzilla Pup and... it's going.... strange. Sometimes it will try to attack her and other times it deliberately deflects the attack. Almost as if it's at war with itself. Yes. The spirits of Ghidorah and Godzilla are fighting inside. And Godzilla is encouraging his beloved to destroy this body. But there is a very big part of her that doesn't want to. He's BACK.

But Ghidorah is too, and he wants to kill the baby. Kong joins the fight, and during it, Junior finally uses his atomic beam for the first time. And charges the axe. Kong and Mothra come to an understanding, he won't hurt the Godzilla pup. And she won't try to shank him again.

But, Monarch wonders, if the Ghidorah skull is removed.... could Godzilla come back to life?

@paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 @weirdgirl92

#godzilla #godzilla au #mothra #Ghidorah #kong #godzilla junior #mothzilla #mothra is not doing her grieving well #she can come back from the dead #godzilla can't

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lexicorp · 2 months ago

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Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Officially in the era of the fic where Star gets to interact with people! First on the list is Megatron, because i very much think that if anyone, he would be the first to visit Star in jail lol. Primarily due to lingering unresolved issues/curiosity. It's always funny describing other character's actions in this style of Starscream voice writing due to the fact that he just constantly dunks of Megs XD

Previous chapter: Judgement Day

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Perception

Chapter 4: Lingering Ghosts

Starscream had thought slowly rusting in the Titan was bad, but this was worse. He kept hearing pedsteps through the halls. Voices of Decepticons that had long since been liberated. Saw flashes in the edges of his optics of Soundwave, Skullcruncher, Swindle– He knew they weren’t there, he knew it. But yowling growls in his audials from the croctobot, or a hum in the walls that was typically a warning of an incoming electric shock; they were too much. The Decepticons were gone. G.H.O.S.T was gone. The Auto-glitches had just repurposed their resources for their own use. It was logical. As Shockwave would say.

Starscream’s vents were irregular as he paced, servo’s pressed against either side of his helm. His optics were locked open, although they weren’t exactly functioning. He couldn’t focus. Surely, he should be able to think of something to escape this Pit if the Autobots wouldn’t listen to him. He’d done it before, right? He’d had the assistance of technical difficulties or a select few cons- but he didn’t need them! He just needed his processor to stop assaulting his sensors with useless noise.

Even so, this place should be a better position than trapped in the Titan, he supposed. He knew its structure far better, and there were still bots somewhere around here. Not phantom bots. Actual bots. Starscream faintly wondered where they had placed Spitfire and Aftermath. Had they been incarcerated here as well? What had happened with the Quintessons?

Had they all died in battle? Was he all alone in here?

Starscream hadn’t actually seen any of the bots again after waking in this cell, he realized. That was not a good thought. Those Autobots were far too painfully resilient to not find some impossible way to obtain victory. Of course they were still alive, they had to be. If they weren’t, he’d find it rather insulting. Even if they’d refused his help.

How long had it been? Primus he couldn’t even track the position of the sun from in here! This was ridiculous.

The quiet had overtaken the air again, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was better or worse. Starscream slumped against the back wall, staring at the energy field that contained him. If only he could psychically will the blasted thing to erupt in flames. Wouldn’t that have been a nice outlier ability. Alas, it remained as it was.

More time passed in a storm of static. Until Starscream was suddenly snapped to attention by a familiar voice. Megatron.

“Starscream.” The ex-warlord stated his designation so plainly, and it made him shoot to his peds almost immediately.

He had to play off the reaction in a way that clearly stated he was not startled, so he seamlessly shifted his posture to lean against the wall casually. “Megatron. How nice to see you.” Starscream controlled his vocalizer to pace his words smoothly, and with a twinge of theatrical false cheer. “I’m flattered! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Megatron’s optics narrowed ever so slightly. “A question. What exactly do you hope to accomplish?” After Starscream just stared at him blankly for an uncomfortable amount of time, Megatron crossed his arms and elaborated. “I know of your schemes. That you always thought yourself better suited to lead the Decepticons. Yet I fail to understand how you can continue to be so dense as to reinstate the conflict after our rally against G.H.O.S.T. The war is over!” His volume rose to which Starscream’s own optics narrowed. “You are… frustratingly unpredictable. So. I ask you. What is it you aimed to gain from any of this?”

Starscream put a servo to his hip and a sinister grin came to his faceplate. “Oh Megatron… You are as short sighted as ever. Honestly, did you really think that any of the Decepticons would accept the way things ended? It wasn’t just me! Sure, the idea to forge New Cybertron was all my grand design and I will not share credit for that– but they all followed me because they craved action. It isn’t over. Even if you keep me here, Shockwave has clearly taken charge of his own direction. All you are is a traitor that we can easily move on from. Your defaction isn’t so revolutionary. Get over yourself.”

Megatron in-vented and raised his arms to gesture his exasperation, “That did not answer my question, Starscream.”

Starscream chuckled and gave him a mock bow, “Apologies if that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, my Lord.” He put as much scorn as he could into the title and revelled in the way Megatron squirmed.

The ex-warlord balled his servos into fists, “Stop. Answer my question.” He demanded with the signature growl Starscream was used to, and his optics brightened.

“Aw, is the Prime’s passive little pet getting angry?” He taunted brazenly. If Starscream could push Megatron’s buttons enough, he’d surely open the cell to try and continue their conversation by way of his fists. The fool had always been easily baited.

Megatron was clearly agitated, but unfortunately, made no move towards the cell’s controls. “Why do you still insist on antagonizing me? You know all about being a traitor, Starscream. New Cybertron my aft, you just wanted the power for yourself! All you did once you accomplished your goal was become an agent of destruction and swat your comrades aside to be scrapped! I acknowledge the mistakes of my past… but you cannot seem to make up your processor where your own priorities lie! I have proven myself dedicated to a reforged focus towards peace. You persist in being a weasley pest for little reason but for your own immediate gain!”

Starscream flinched back slightly as Megatron jabbed a digit pointedly in his direction. The absolute gall. Crimson lightly flickered between his wings as a power in his spark flared.

Megatron’s disgusting voice box continued to prattle on with his accusations. “When we were faced with the Dweller in that cave. When you sprang into action to the Terran child’s aid. That day, I had a sliver of hope, that you may actually be capable of changing your ways. I had never seen that side of you– but I suppose even then it meant nothing. What changed?! How could you betray her perception of you so flippantly, and offline sparklings no less?!”

“I DID NO SUCH THING!” Starscream shrieked abruptly with a step forward and his optics glitching red, which caused the other mech to straighten in surprise. “Hashtag, Spitfire, and Aftermath are PERFECTLY functional!! The latter two may still be in stasis– but there is no reason that they could not be rejuvenated if I had access to adequate fuel! Hashtag was clearly still capable as she got her own little payback with the energon extractor! My effort towards New Cybertron held no ill intent towards her, and she’s fine. Then, it is not as if the chaos kids are incapable of functioning without those Embershards. You do not see the other Terrans with them, do you!? No. You don’t. Those two just wanted a bit of revenge for their surprise sacrifice–of which was a necessity that I knew they wouldn’t relent to willingly. That is why they were determined to remain unresponsive! I didn’t betray anyone!” A small, manic laugh escaped him and he added without thinking, “I don’t even remember what happened after I put on that Primus damned corrupted gauntlet!” Apparently, even without the surges from the Titan, the chaos energy spikes had stayed with him. He was probably shaking too much to be taken seriously.

Megatron looked at him with a strange expression on his faceplate. Starscream wanted to blast it off, yet of course, no plasma cannon. Plus the cursed wall between them still. Seriously, why wasn’t the idiot breaking it down to beat him into the Pit by now!?

“You don’t…” Megatron vented in confusion, mulling over what had just been said. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that.”

Starscream scoffed, “Oh spare me your doubt. You know nothing. You want to accuse me of betraying the Decepticons? They abandoned ME! And you LET them! I cannot say I am surprised, but for you to say it’s MY fault?? That is just how they are! That is why I cannot count on anyone but myself! And so what if I went a bit overboard with the gauntlet’s power? Earth deserves to BURN! What reason has this place given me to harbor any opinion otherwise? Cybertron is our home, not this organic mess! And YOU got the Allspark incinerated by the Prime’s moronic decision to blow the space bridge! You want to make a new life here for Cybertronians? Forgive me if I am a bit skeptical of how to accomplish that with humans running around.”

Megatron continued to scrutinize him with regard to his statements in a way that was no longer amusing. He had no right to look at Starscream that way. Like he was insane. He wasn’t insane! This fool wanted the truth and he couldn’t even take it!

“We do not know for sure if the Allspark was destroyed…” The big lug didn’t even sound like he believed it himself. He just wanted to live in the denial of his pathetic field of flowers with that equally stupid mech he pined after for vorns.

“You only attempt to believe otherwise to savor your vision of your precious Prime.” Starscream spit. This statement brought a more pleasing air of irritation to Megatron’s faceplate that made Starscream grin again.

“Additionally,” Megatron tried to deflect, “Humans, as a general species, are not our enemy. We are perfectly capable of coexisting. Dorothy convinced me of this. Humans are just as varied as us Cybertronians. Violence… has proved itself to not be a viable means towards real progress.”

Starscream could roll his optics at the initial drabble, but hearing Megatron try to admonish violence as a whole– Megatron? He knew he’d gotten soft, but this was absurd. Especially when that hypocrite’s first greeting card was still a signature blast of plasma to the chassis.

He stared at the silver mech, Starscream’s optics flickering back to blue as the crimson lightning retreated into the deep seeded hole in his spark. Starscream slowly started to laugh which devolved rather quickly as he nearly doubled over, steadying himself on the wall and covering his optics with a servo. “Y-you– HAH! Oh my Primus that’s RICH! You, Megatron, the infamous warlord. You want to preach to me about violence being wrong?! Do you hear yourself?!” Starscream struggled to articulate anything more coherent than that in his hysteria.

He thought of Thundercracker, who had held shiny ideals in his spark all those vorns ago. Before Megatron had sent them into a battlefield they should never have entered. Starscream had tried to explain to their incompetent, illustrious leader exactly why, and was subsequently tossed aside as usual. Forced to lead his trine to their demise. He had slipped away from the carnage, only to realize that his trine mates were nowhere in sight. Megatron had told him to retreat and leave them. Starscream didn’t listen, yet still had only found a barely conscious Skywarp in the rubble. Thundercracker died fighting a battle he had never wanted to fight. He had constantly asked Starscream to advocate for less brutal or reckless tactics favored by the warlord, but those pleas had never been heard. Any time Starscream had offered an alternative to ramming their helms into a wall of Autobots, he would be assaulted into submission for daring to question their lord.

Starscream can understand caution in battle, but the absence of violence in conflict is a foolish aspiration. He had explained that to Thundercracker when they first joined the Decepticons. Now here was Megatron, standing before him after all these vorns, denigrating the framework of a cause he had forged.

The fool seemed at a loss for words as he blankly watched and waited for Starscream’s laughter to die out. Starscream’s vocalizer whirled at the strain as he finally pulled himself together, “Be-believe me, I would love to list exactly every single reason to explain just how hypocritical you have become Megatron; but I know from experience that words are useless on your thick helm.”

Megatron ex-vented and ran a servo down his face, “Starscream… would you please work with me here?”

Starscream’s optics widened and his wings flicked back. It was his turn to be left absolutely flabbergasted. This mech truly was full of surprises as of late. Why was he talking like that? What was he trying to pull now?

Starscream straightened himself and now eyed Megatron more warily, “Work with you?” He paused for a bit of drama and to analyze the ex-warlord’s frame-language, then assumed a sweeter tone as he put his servos behind his back. “I will only agree to be cooperative if I am to get something out of this exchange, my dear Megatron. As is in my oh so self-serving nature, after all.” He placed a servo over his chassis for effect. “If you wish for me to disclose anything of interest to you, you’ll have to bargain for it.” The seeker slid up to the cell’s barrier and leaned forward with a conniving smirk.

Megatron’s faceplate looked positively disgusted. Good.

“You are in no position to make deals, Starscream.” He proclaimed like a fool.

“On the contrary, I am in the exact position to do so! What have I to lose if you refuse? Disclosing anything you desire without anything in return would still leave me with nothing in the end. So give me some incentive, hm? Or do you plan to remove this silly barrier and beat it out of me like the good ol’ days? Wouldn’t that just be easier? Oh, but that’d challenge your cute, flimsy little ploy of pacifism, now wouldn’t it?”

Megatron threw his servo out from his side like he could smack the idea away. “That is not what I’m here for!” He insisted as his volume rose again, “All I wanted, was to try and have a civil conversation with you! But I should’ve known that’d be impossible.”

Starscream’s grin dropped, and he rolled his optics with the swing of his hips which he landed his servos upon, “Ah yes, I am sure that is all you came for.”

Megatron’s servos clenched into fists as they often did when frustrated, but the slagging idiot still wouldn’t relent to his typical violent impulses. “Fine. What could you want in exchange for giving me a legitimate answer to my question?”

“Hm, I assume my freedom would be off the table?” Starscream tried, which Megatron answered with a glare. “Pity. With my vast array of skills, I would be a far more valuable asset to you all on the outside–”

“No. Get on with it.”

Star grumbled his complaints, then paused in thought. “Well, perhaps you could permit me a meeting with Hashtag. Speaking with her would certainly be far more pleasant than being forcibly subjected to your disgusting faceplate.”

Megatron’s expression shifted to that confusing state from before, then reverted back to one of stern suspicion. “Very well, but she will not be alone. She will have an Autobot chaperon close by.”

Starscream’s wings flicked in a mock shrug, “If you insist. It is not as if I intend to manipulate her to my whim in an effort to convince her to release me from this Pit. That would be absurd. Shame on your paranoid processor for thinking it.” He tisked.

Megatron actually rolled his own optics, which Starscream found extremely amusing. “Right. On that note, tell me, what are your intentions? You still seem to be fond of the sparkling, despite your recent actions. Help me understand, Starscream.”

Perhaps the Prime had put him up to this.

“A little back and forth of being at odds isn’t unheard of, especially amongst Decepticons. Why do you act like it is so strange?”

“It’s a matter of loyalty, Starscream. The infighting amidst the Decepticons was by no means an advantage, in fact, it was a constant hindrance!”

Starscream scoffed, but couldn’t think of a good retort to the statement. It was objectively true, and he would not tell Megatron he was right. He waved a servo dismissively, “Regardless, what else was it you wanted to ask me?”

“What is your endgame?”

“Ah well, ideally I would lead the Decepticons to victory and rule over a newly forged Cybertron.” He stated plainly. “Although, determining a means at which to breathe life back into the ball of scrap it’s become, is the most tricky. But if everyone had just listened to me,” He put a servo to his chassis, “then we could stop with the silly killing each other dribble and finally reformat our government as intended, on a very much alive Cybertron. On the other servo, you just decided for yourself that you were tired of playing war with the Prime. I might have agreed with you about starting some form of delegation. But no. How could any of us have any right to be consulted by the mighty Megatron. You just up and decided to go behind our backs. And now you love to prattle about being a team. Tch.”

Megatron hummed disapprovingly of the seeker’s snark. “How did your scheme to use the Emberstone to control the Titan and destroy Witwicky possibly work toward those goals? That was a rather needlessly violent approach, and aimed towards Earth’s inhabitants, not Cybertron.”

“Well I couldn’t exactly reach Cybertron, now could I? Because someone destroyed the only space bridge. And the technology here is far too primitive to rebuild a new one. The situation changed my approach. Evidently, it was a flop, but I blame Quintus and his faulty artifact for that.” The lingering energy in his spark sent a sort of warning shock that made his optic and wing twitch. He flatly ignored it. “Now if you want any more oddly interpersonal queries answered, we can discern another trade."

Megatron stared a moment before turning away, “No, that will be all for now, Starscream.”

Suddenly, Starscream actually felt as if he didn’t want him to leave. Had he bored the mech somehow? Scrap! He hadn’t even succeeded in riling him up enough to open the door! But he couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t be overtly obvious that he was intentionally aiming for a confrontational response. Then here he was, being dismissed as if he were still a soldier under the oaf’s command. No matter. At least he had scored a meeting with Hashtag. That could be something to look forward to, he supposed.

“Uh- right then… don’t forget our deal!” It was too sudden for Starscream’s liking.

Megatron didn’t even respond to him as he rounded the corner. Conversation. Yes that mech was as skilled in that department as ever. Whether he was too wrapped up in whatever thoughts were sloshing around in his helm, or if he pointedly ignored Starscream for some reason or another; it was always hard to tell.

Now, Starscream was left to his own devices yet again. Alone. No need to be dramatic, he didn’t actually enjoy Megatron’s company. Solitary was surely preferable.

He just hoped they wouldn’t forget him in there for too long this time…

That’s all it was.

#Starscream #transformers earthspark #earthspark starscream #fanfic #tf fanfic #got that mild angst vibes #megatron #earthspark megatron #tfw u hate a mech but also are desperate for company #transformers

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soundwavereporting · 3 months ago

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So you've heard Earthspark Season 3 is pretty good

Or maybe you just want to see the small screen's post-IDW take on Everyone's Favorite War Criminal (I'm not judging) but you heard season 2 is a hot mess.

Fear not! Under the cut, I present the cliffnotes of season two, so you can easily go into season three without having to watch season two! (or even season one, I guess, because I'm an overachiever)

Season Two Cliffnotes:

Decepticons are bad again. Starscream is in charge.

Something (I forget what tbh) creates 'chaos energy' and 'chaos terrans' which are terrans, but 'born bad'. They're named Aftermath and I forget the other one, but she's essentially Twitch's evil twin.

At a carnival, Mo, and the Terrans (I think all of them? idk it doesn't matter) get caught up in the nonsense of a guy named Fairmaestro. The big twist is Fairmaestro's super cool UFO space carnival ride is actually Cosmos! He fucks off into space at the end of the ep. Meanwhile Robbie meets a girl named Izzy and has a crush.

The Decepticons have also decided fucking off into space is a good idea (they want to go back to Cybertron. I forget why the Autobots don't want to), except Starscream wants to kill Megatron and OP or something, I don't remember, so they don't. Or they might've been trying to get control of a space bridge?

Mo and Thrash (I think? Definitely Mo though) meet a Quintesson.

Starscream does Stuff and raises a Titan named Terrortronus who lives under Witwicky (I think), and is powered with chaos energy. (see above), which ends up draining Aftermath & Twitch's Evil Twin of energy. Starscream also gets something called the Cyberslayer (I think) that can kill cybertronians. But also bring them back?

The kids and the Terrans realize they can 'sync', which means they turn into a combiner ship thing or something and create a dome around Terrortronus and part of Witwicky, which results in all the Decepticons being contained. Because Starscream is stuck inside Terrortronus, Shockwave takes over the Decepticons, whose goals are now to 1) escape 2) fuck off to Cybertron.

Season 1 Cliffnotes:

First, I really recommend watching season 1! It's very fun and stands on its own.

Robbie and Mo (siblings) find the Emberstone and get these cool cybersleeves, which allow them to feel each other's emotions. Finding the Emberstone also brings about the creation of two new bots (Terrans) named Twitch and Thrash, who are Robbie and Mo's partners, respectively.

The kids' mom, Dot, fought in the war and is buddies with Megatron, who defected to the Autobots at some point. Their dad, Alex, is a college professor and a Bumblebee stan.

Transformers/Cybertronians are known to humanity and there's even a comic series about them!

The Autobots & Megatron are working for a secretive organization called G.H.O.S.T. (I forget what it stands for). G.H.O.S.T. has lots of secret bases and whatever. Agent Schloder works for G.H.O.S.T. and is also a Bumblebee stan.

Bumblebee and Breakdown are umm "brothers"

In the midseason finale (I think) Robbie and Mo end up creating three new Terrans: Hashtag, Nightshade, and Jawbreaker. Hashtag's whole thing is social media (obviously) and Nightshade is a nonbinary science prodigy who makes a whole secret base for the Maltos, Autobots, and Terrans. Jawbreaker is just kind of there for comic relief and/or secondhand embarrassment.

The main threat is a guy named Mandroid, who hates Cybertronians. G.H.O.S.T. eventually becomes a strong secondary antagonist.

Eventually the Autobots and Decepticons team up to take down Mandroid/G.H.O.S.T. These last two points aren't actually mentioned in season 3 but in the interest of full context, here you go.

F.A.Q.

Q: Um, I heard Tarantulas was in this show?

A: He's in Season 1 Episode 13, "Missed Connection". Unfortunately he doesn't show up again afterwards :( but he is in my heart, always.

Q: Soundwave ep? Is he divorced?

A: Watch Season 1 Episode 8 "Decoy" for all the answers.

Q: Is Wheeljack really yeehaw?

A: Yes. Laserbeak is ALSO yeehaw.

Q: Why don't the Autobots want to go back to Cybertron?

A: I honestly don't remember.

Q: Are you a Prowl stan? Is that why you made this post?

A: Per my blog description: "despite the title of my blog, i am actually a soundwave stan."

Unfortunately, Soundwave doesn't have enough screentime in this show (especially season 3) to justify a "Season 2 Cliffnotes so you can see Soundwave". Prowl is another favorite, though.

Q: Is Season 2 really that bad?

A: To be entirely honest, it killed my interest in transformers for the last five months! YMMV.

There. I've done it. Go enjoy Prowl.

#transformers #maccadam #earthspark #transformers earthspark

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fantastic-nonsense · 1 year ago

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obviously I'd be thrilled to just get the whole PJO series adapted and then end it there. However: Heroes of Olympus as a story can be cleaned up sooooooo much in a way that PJO just doesn't need to be, and a tv adaptation offers the perfect opportunity to do so

like honestly my hottake is that I think Disney could solve both the problem of adapting a long, convoluted sequel series and a lot of the problems HOO as a story has if they a) do The Lost Hero and Son of Neptune in the same season and b) deliberately wait until the PJO actors are in their 20s to do it

Just thinking about this a bit more:

three 12-14 episode seasons, with TLH/SoN in S1, a modified MoA in S2 that deals with some of the Argo crews' HoH subplots, and then HoH/BoO in S3

Percy and Annabeth are in their 20s and newly engaged when he disappears. This sets up the arc of Percy dreaming about settling down with Annabeth in New Rome in a more organic, functional way and also gives us as viewers a chance to see that the aftermath of the Titan War has resulted in tangible, lasting change for the demigods of Camp Half-Blood

Grover replaces Coach Hedge as the Seven's collective Protector+chaperone, which solves the series' problem of Grover's absence and the absence of the PJO Trio's friendship

the whole show/story takes place over ~6 months instead of the year it did in the books, and Percy+Jason's individual quests happen concurrently (simply not letting Percy sleep for 8 months and making an episode where he establishes himself at the Roman camp for awhile before he's forced on the quest with Frank and Hazel would solve about half of the problems on the Roman side of the series)

Season-wise, things mostly sort themselves out:

The first season starts off introducing the Lost Hero trio and we find out that Percy's missing at the end of the first episode. The second episode opens with Percy waking up at the Wolf House and starting his journey to New Rome. We get one episode entirely devoted to amnesiac Jason and Percy integrating into the new camps, making friends, and learning about their missing counterpart before the quest plots start up.

The season then alternates between Jason, Piper, and Leo's "Find Hera" quest and Percy, Hazel, and Frank's Alaska quest, with intermittent jumps to the Greek and Roman efforts to find Percy and Jason. It ends with Percy and Jason regaining their memories and each camp realizing their leader is on the other side of the country in "enemy" territory.

The second season opens around a month later as the Argo II docks in New Rome. Percy and Jason have both been given time to make friends, integrate themselves into the opposing camp, and become adjusted to a different way of life with all of their memories intact. They haven't physically returned to their home camps as they've both independently come to the conclusion that Hera switched them to initiate inter-camp unity and are wary of doing anything that would disrupt that goal. However, Percy and Jason have both managed to get messages to Annabeth and Reyna respectively at some point in that month, so everyone knows everyone is safe when the Greeks finally arrive in New Rome.

Cue MoA's various plotlines, which would be cleaned up and streamlined significantly while also integrating in some of the HoH arcs like Hazel learning how to manipulate the Mist, Frank learning how to use his shapeshifting powers, Piper coming into her own as a daughter of Aphrodite, Leo's seventh wheel arc and the Calypso subplot, Jason struggling to figure out what his place is, the Jason-Nico friendship, etc. Also set up the Greek v. Roman dispute and Reyna following them to Greece. Season ends with the Annabeth-Arachne confrontation and Tartarus fall.

The third season combines HoH and BOO; the season alternates between Percy and Annabeth's journey through Tartarus while the rest of the Seven finish their various character arcs via gathering the elements for the Physicians' Cure and journeying to the Doors of Death. After they rescue Percy and Annabeth and close the Doors, they plan to head straight to Athens to take on Gaea. Reyna reaches them just after, and Annabeth sends her and Nico off with the Athena Parthenos with Grover as their Protector.

The final battle switches between The Seven+Gods vs. Gaea+The Giants at the Acropolis and the Greeks vs. Romans at Camp Half-Blood. The Gaea plotline is resolved at the Acropolis, the Greek-Roman plotline is resolved as Nico and Reyna triumphantly arrive at Camp Half-Blood with the statue, a functional Greek-Roman working relationship, and the gods' blessing. This helps streamline the mess that was Blood of Olympus and actually provides a workable story resolution.

We get a final aftermath/epilogue episode that sorts out and ties up all remaining plot threads, teases Solangelo, and ends with Percy returning home to see his mom and planning out how to move to New Rome after he and Annabeth get married.

Obviously this is the roughest possible sketch of how it could be done, but I genuinely believe doing something like that could fix some of the biggest issues HOO has conceptually while streamlining all of the quest bloat. It'd be interesting to see them try, anyway.

#pjo #pjo tv #heroes of olympus #hoo spoilers #my writing #.......sort of #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #jason grace

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yoru-no-seiiki · 2 years ago

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YANDERE ! EREN JAEGER X READER HEADCANNONS

TW/CW: mdni, yandere themes, masturbation.

Have some headcannons while I wait for my henna to dry/watch the first season with my cousin.

I wish there were more who wrote for Canon! Eren. Like don’t get me wrong, Modern AU Eren is hot but I mean, fuckboys can be seen everywhere.

But Canon! Eren is batshit insane and that’s exactly what I love about him. I wish they at least add that to his modern counterpart instead of making him a basic bad boy but I mean if that’s what they’re into 🤷‍♂️

Anyways Exhibit A of why Eren in all eras is my fave AOT character:

Like I said, he’s batshit insane.

He has directly killed 2 people by the age of nine, and assisted in killing the third. Although this is out of self defense it still can’t be denied HOW HE TReateD THE SECOND DUDE HOLY SHIT- THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE STABBED HIM.

Normal kids would just be terrified, maybe be even fight blinding and/or cry, probably even run tf away. But ya boi brought a knife and even deceived the person at the door.

EXHIBIT B:

He’d be a great yandere.

Let’s say that we age up our cast and make 18 the minimum age of enlistment (making him 21 around the attack of Trost).

Trainee Eren has the will of fucking steel. He’ll do whatever it takes to wipe out titan-kind, to make the cruel world he lived in finally know true peace.

To be with you in that new world he’ll build.

You were one of his fellow trainees. Someone who unconditionally believed and supported his desire to see the outside world. You didn’t treat him like a child as Mikasa did, and you weren’t so oddly distant when it came to his help and presence like Armin.

At first it started as a crush. An infatuation towards your looks and kind demeanor which morphed into a twisted sense of love.

You were the only one that understood him, that resonated with his wavelength.

He definitely frequently masturbated to your image. Stress was a known issue amongst trainees and soldiers alike. Many drank to rid themselves of such a problem. But to him just the thought of you two becoming one gave him relief and pleasure that any form of alcohol could never give. In the aftermath of the Trost incident, when faced with your unconscious, battered body he pulls a Shinji and jerks one off. Covering you with his release.

You think you’ll leave his mind once he gets busy with being a titan-shifter and the future of Eldia and such but nope.

Eren only has you and the new world he promised in his heart, body and soul. And that’ll never change.

EXHIBIT C:

Eren believes in freedom first and foremost.

So none of that kidnapping. At least in earlier years. He just wants you to be happy and safe. He’s more of the type to hurt others for your sake rather than be abusive and take away your rights.

Eren in later seasons has the capacity to keep you isolated, and that he will.

Like in other (unfortunately rare) fics of him, he keeps you in a farm land with a bunch of loyalists. If reader is afab! or has the ability to bear a child (for those with abo ocs or something idk) he’ll tell them that you are bearing his child and the future inheritor of his powers.

Otherwise he’ll come up with other excuses like having you as a tactician or war-hero they have to pay respects to.

He’ll give you as much freedom as he can provide while keeping you away from danger.

Though one might argue that his version of freedom for you is just an illusion.

#yandere #eren #aot x reader #eren x reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #yandere eren jaeger x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #yandere aot x reader #yandere snk x reader

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cherub-berry · 1 month ago

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*:..｡o○ CRAVING SMOKE | Porco Galliard x Reader

╰┈➤ Contents: fem! reader, both Porco and reader smokes cigarettes, reader wears glasses, reader is an eldian nurse, reader carrying an injured man, mention of injury, mention of war, the aftermath of war, guilt, survivor guilt, cigarette kisses, Porco opening up, mention of Marcel, teasing and banter, writer is not good with grammar

╰┈➤ Word count: 5.9k

╰┈➤ Note: this is inspired by my illustration of Porco. I also wanted to thank my friend Ari for co-writing this fic with me, with out their help I don't think I can finish this, so a big applause for Ari!

The smell of blood and fear lingered in the air, clinging like a vice. The war had ended or so they said. But for the war veteran and survivor, it was a never-ending cycle. He stood atop his titan, smoke rising from its neck as the giant's body slumped to the ground. Porco Galliard, or as most people knew him, the Jaw Titan. The sky, once a clear blue, now darkened to shades of purple and orange, a beautiful scene if he didn’t notice the endless bodies beneath him. Eldians and Marleyans alike lay caught in the crossfire, everyone is a victim of war, even if they never participated.

Porco wishes he were a simple man with a simple dream, but what he wants is anything but simple. Yet here he is, bloodied and brooding, weighed down by the weight of a wish he never truly understood. He got what he wanted, one of the Nine Titans, but at what cost? Marcel’s death? Bertholdt’s fate? Or even the betrayal that still hangs between him and Reiner? The power, the legacy—it all feels hollow now, a cruel reminder of the sacrifices made. Each Titan form, each battle, has only deepened his pain, leaving him to wonder if the price was ever worth it.

He watches as the Warrior candidates celebrate, hugging and cheering for Gabi Braun, elated by the success of her sacrifice. He can't help but smile, ruffling her head as if to say, "Good job." But as he watches them, a bitter knot tightens in his chest. Their troop is dwindling at a rapid pace. Every single day, the enemy's weapons grow deadlier, more advanced, more terrifying. Porco himself almost tasted death recently, saved only by the Armored Titan, Reiner Braun. Meanwhile, the Warriors’ tent is filled with the sounds of laughter, men drinking tasteless alcohol and eating MREs to their heart's content. They laugh as if they don't care about what awaits them when they return home or if they'll ever return at all.

The night drags on, and eventually, the lights in the tents fade to black. Everyone is deep asleep, like corpses, except for Porco. War Chief Zeke Yeager is awake too. Zeke is focused on a book—a children's book, of all things. How peculiar, Porco thought. But this is Zeke, no one can ever guess what he's really thinking. A metallic mug of coffee is clutched in Zeke's left hand, while his right flips through the pages of the book.

"Stop staring so much, you're going to make me blush," Zeke muttered, his eyes still transfixed on the pages.

Porco raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the book. "Is it interesting? I mean, it’s a children’s book."

Zeke glanced up briefly, taking a sip of his coffee. "It has its charms. You never know until you read it."

Porco smirked. "Charms? For a kid’s story?" He sat up on his cot. "You’re not getting soft on me, are you?"

Zeke chuckled, eyes back on the book. “Soft? Perhaps. We need more simple things in a chaotic world that's going to fall apart”

The Jaw Titan studied him for a moment, watching as the man in front of him tracing the book cover. He shrugged “can’t say I found comfort in kids’ stories. But hey, if it helps you sleep at night…”

After a long pause, Zeke smiled at him. Closing the book and finishing his coffee. “The world needs hope more that it needs war, even if it's for a brief moment”

The night hung heavy around them as Porco fell silent, he can't lie Zeke is a very interesting person, but also a dangerous one.

"Gonna go smoke for a bit," Porco said, breaking the silence.

"If I were you, I wouldn't," Zeke muttered. "The war is over for us, but not for the nurses. It’s chaos out there.”

Porco ignored Zeke’s warning and headed out into the night. The cold air hit him immediately, as a gust of wind tousled his hair. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, exhaling smoke into the crisp night. The silence outside was different—empty, almost suffocating. He stood there for a while, letting the chill sink in, his thoughts drifting as the smoke swirled upward. Zeke’s words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside.

He lights a cigarette and exhales a cloud of nicotine into the frigid air, the wind growing sharper and colder. He glances into the distance, where the medical tents stand far from the others. The muffled sounds of screaming and crying drift toward him. Unlike the warriors' tent—silent, warm, and inviting, the medical tents are bright, chaotic, and soaked in blood. Curiosity tugs at him, and he steps closer. The screams grow louder, and he sees nurses rushing about, covered in blood, their faces hidden behind masks and surgical gloves.

The head nurse stumbles by, her eyes wide with panic as she clutches the gruesome bandage “what are you doing here!? Stay back,” her voice strained. “We're losing him, quickly, morphine!”.

Porco watches in silence, in awe. Cigarette forgotten as the ashes drop down to the dirt floor. Another nurse passed him, not glancing at him. Her gaze never meeting his. Zeke was right, it's war here.

Your hands are shaking as you struggle to open the morphine bottle, the lid slipping from your trembling fingers. As you fumble, your glasses slide down your nose and nearly fall off, but you barely notice, too focused on the task at hand.

Getting a syringe you dipped the needle into the bottle giving it a light tap before injecting it into the dying man, preparing him for the pain that will follow.

Time seemed to slow down for Porco as he watched the nurses rushing to help the unconscious man. Every moment felt stretched, the hurried movements of the medical staff blending into a blur of urgency, while his own focus remained locked on the scene unfolding before him.

But one nurse stood out to Porco—the woman with glasses. She didn’t appear much older than he was, yet she was carrying a half-dead man alone, her movements steady and deliberate despite the heavy burden. The sight of her, focused and determined, carrying the unconscious man toward the operating tent, struck Porco deeply. To him the woman was not only carrying his life, but the hopes of a fallen soldier.

“It's going to be okay Mr. Charlie! You're going to go home soon,” You said, gently lowering him on the bed, reassuring him and also yourself.

Nurses swarmed around the man, preparing him for surgery, while your hand trembled, heavy with the responsibility of his life.Your chest tightens, the weight of the moment pressing down, and your breath catches in your throat. It's the sudden, overwhelming realization of how fragile life is, how much is at stake in this very moment.

“(Name), you did well today. You can take the rest of the night off,” One of the older nurses said, putting on her mask and surgical gloves.

You nod quietly, too exhausted to argue. In truth, you wanted to stay—to assist the nurses, to see the surgery through. But as you turn to leave the surgical tents, the weight of your fatigue pulls you away, each step heavy as you step out into the cool night air.

The breeze brushes against your skin, a soft, fleeting touch, like a kiss that might vanish at any moment. Adjusting your glasses you finally notice a young man staring outside one of the tents, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. You approach him and tap his shoulder once—did he not feel it? You tap again, then speak.

“Excuse me, sir, you're not allowed to smoke here.”

“Shit, sorry.” He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot. His voice sounds distant, almost detached, but there’s an unmistakable tension in his posture. Though his face remains calm, his eyes reveal a different story, one of turmoil and inner conflict that he’s trying hard to hide.

You look at him from head to toe. You know this man, the infamous Jaw Titan. His face carries the unmistakable feature that haunts Liberio. Nurses often fawn over the warriors, often calling the man in front of you “a handsome asshole with a good heart”. A certain charm behind those cold and rigid eyes that will make people swoon.

Porco’s eyes met yours. And for a moment, your breath catches. There's something undoubtedly intimate in his gaze—unacknowledged attraction. The connection feels so short yet so magnetic, it makes you want his gaze even more.

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” He says, pointing to his face to clarify.

Your eyes widen slightly as you quickly wipe your cheek, only to see the dark stain of blood smeared across your skin. Maybe he wasn’t looking at your eyes after all—maybe it was your cheek he was focused on. A wave of self-consciousness hits you as you glance down at your uniform, now caked in dirt and blood. The grime and the mess suddenly seem more obvious, and you can’t shake the feeling of being exposed, like all the weight of the day’s chaos has left its mark on you.

"Thanks..." The words barely escape your throat, soft and barely audible.

"Mr. Galliard, if you're looking to smoke, I know a place." You clear your throat, hoping the sudden awkwardness doesn’t linger.

He glances at you, then back at the ground. "Oh—uh, sure. Lead the way." His tone is a mix of surprise and something else, almost like he wasn’t expecting an offer, but couldn’t refuse it either.

You lead him into the cool evening, the air carrying a sharp bite that makes the night feel even more isolated. As you walk side by side, the silence between you both is oddly comfortable. The faint crunch of gravel beneath your boots is the only sound, and you’re acutely aware of his presence beside you—his movements casual, but you can tell he’s paying attention to the surroundings.

You guide him to the back of an old, abandoned shed, though calling it a shed feels generous. It’s little more than a crumbling wooden wall with a rusted door, barely standing against the wind. The dim light from the nearby lanterns casts long shadows, adding a sense of quiet intimacy to the moment. It’s a place hidden from prying eyes, and as you both step into the shelter, the world outside feels just a little more distant, a little more forgotten.

“Here we are, enjoy your time Mr. Galliard. Goodnight,” You pivot on your heel and head back toward the nurses' tent, hoping to find some rest or at least a brief moment of peace away from the chaos.

A calloused hand reaches out, brushing against yours. You turn back, and for a split second, you catch the blonde man’s eyes. They flicker from yours to the ground, his brows furrowing in a quiet struggle, as if debating something he can’t quite put into words. He lowers his hand slowly, almost surprised by his own gesture.

“I—uh, forget it. Goodnight,” he mutters, the words awkward and heavy, like he’s wrestling with a thought he isn’t ready to share.

His eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, betraying the quiet curiosity that seems to hang in the air between you—an unspoken desire to know more, but uncertainty keeping him at arm’s length.

You know he wanted to know. The makeshift question barrelling in your head: how did you know this place? The question feels simple yet complicated.

You smile softly at him, feeling the weight of the moment shift. Sliding down the wall, you settle onto the ground, your posture casual but inviting. You pat the spot next to you, looking up at him with a quiet, unspoken request.

"Sit with me?"

For a moment, he hesitates, eyes flicking between the empty space beside you and your face, as if debating whether to break the distance or remain standing. After a beat, he lowers himself slowly, sitting beside you without a word. Shoulders almost brushing, his body heat radiating.

You slip your hand into the pocket of your uniform, pulling out a cigarette box, the edges worn from constant use. You shake it lightly, feeling the last few sticks inside, then retrieve an almost empty lighter, the flame flickering weakly at your fingertips.

“I didn't know nurses can smoke,” He says, you can hear faint hint of a smile in his voice.

“Well, we aren't supposed to,” you reply, taking a drag and letting the smoke curl up into the air, "But I still do anyway.”

He chuckles softly. "I guess some rules are meant to be bent."

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke dissipate in the cool evening air. "Maybe. But it's not exactly the healthiest habit, either way.”

“You should tell that to Zeke.” he says, a grin creeping in.

"The head nurse has," you reply with a dry laugh, "She told him to quit, but he just keeps on going. It’s like telling a cat to stop being a cat." You take a long drag, enjoying the bite of the smoke as you watch the haze swirl around you.

Porco watches you exhale another puff of smoke, his gaze following the way the smoke curls into the air. After a moment, he pulls out his own cigarette and a lighter from his jacket, biting the tip between his lips with a small grunt of concentration. He flicks the lighter, but the flame sputters out before it can catch, the tiny spark vanishing into the cool night. He shakes the lighter impatiently, then tries again, only for it to fail once more. With a frustrated sigh, he tosses the lighter aside with a muttered curse.

“Can I borrow yours?” He points toward your lighter with a half-embarrassed look.

You nod, handing it to him. He takes it and flicks the fuse multiple times, but again, the flame refuses to appear.

"Guess no cigarette for me tonight," he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice, as he hands it back to you. "Lucky you. You've got all the fire."

You chuckle softly, slipping the lighter back into your pocket. "Maybe it’s a sign you’re not meant to smoke tonight."

He smirks, rolling his eyes. "Could be.”

“Here, I'll share mine with you. Get close”

Porco raises an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. You bring the lit cigarette back up to your lips and position it so the glowing tip is almost exactly in line with his—just a hair's breath apart, the two cigarettes hovering close. He leans in slightly, and you both, without missing a beat, gently bring your lips together, the tips of your cigarettes now nearly touching.

For a brief, intense moment, you both exhale at the same time, the smoke mixing and swirling around you, the soft glow of the lit tips connecting in a silent, almost intimate dance. The flame transfers easily between the cigarettes, igniting his with a soft hiss. He takes a quick drag as you pull back, both of you now holding your cigarettes with your lips.

"Now that’s how you light a cigarette," you say with a grin, watching him as he exhales, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Porco chuckles, still holding the cigarette between his lips. "You’re full of surprises, huh?"

You shrug casually, the smoke trailing lazily in the air. "I like to keep things interesting."

For a moment, the world feels quieter, the shared action something unspoken, just a little closer than it probably should be. A little too intimate than it should be. You lower your hand to the ground, just a breath away from his, the space between your fingers humming with an unspoken promise. You linger there, so close that the air seems to tremble with the possibility of touch, but neither of you moves.

Porco raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing as he glances at your hand, hovering near his. "Careful," he says, voice low, a teasing edge to it. "You might be getting a little too close for comfort."

You hold his gaze, a small, knowing smile playing at the corner of your lips. "Comfort’s overrated," you reply, fingers barely brushing the edge of his.

His eyes flicked between you and your hand. “You're the type to make things complicated, aren't you?

You stretch your body, your spine arching gracefully as you move, the motion fluid and effortless. His gaze follows you, intent and focused, drawn to the curve of your back with an almost predatory intensity. You feel the weight of his eyes on you, but you don't falter. As you shift, your hand drifts even closer to his, the space between you shrinking with every deliberate inch. You hold his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes.

"Only when it's worth it," you say, your voice soft but clear, as if the words are as much a challenge as an invitation.

Porco's gaze sharpens, he takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the gray smoke to the cold night sky. “Is this one of those moments?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you shift your hand a fraction closer, just enough to send a jolt of tension through the air. "Maybe," you say softly. "Maybe not."

His lips quirk upward, the challenge in his eyes clear. "You’re a tease. I kind of like it.”

The air hangs heavy with tension, thick and almost suffocating. Neither of you dares to move, as if any shift would shatter the moment. The silence between you is electric, every heartbeat magnified, the space between you pulsing with something unspoken.

“You're not going to make this easy, aren't you?” He asked, voice husky and hushed.

“Where's the fun in easy?”

"I like seeing how far I can push before things... change," you murmur, your eyes locking with his, daring him to respond.

He leans in, just a fraction, closing the distance with a teasing, almost unreadable look. "Is that what you want? To see what happens when everything shifts?”

You challenge him with a quiet smile. “Maybe I do”

Porco’s gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, his breath catching ever so slightly. His pulse quickens, the subtle shift in his expression betraying the tension building between you both. There’s a brief hesitation, a quiet moment where it feels like time itself has paused, before his focus sharpens again, drawn in by something deeper, something he can’t quite pull away from.

“You're going to keep looking, or do something about it?” You challenged.

He chuckles softly, a low rumble vibrating between you two. “You sure you want me to?”

“You're the one getting closer.”

His hand shifts just slightly, brushing against yours, and for a split second, you think he might pull away. But then, his fingers curl around yours, slow and deliberate, the touch grounding in a way that feels more intimate than anything that’s come before.

"Guess you’re right" he murmurs, his voice barely above a breath. "Maybe I’ve already done something about it ”

You take his hand in yours, your fingers gently tracing the rough lines of his calloused skin. The touch is tender, lingering, as if you're mapping out the very contours of his hand, feeling the strength in every worn ridge.

His soft lips graze yours, a delicate touch that lingers in the air. The scent of cigarettes, faint and smoky, clings to him, but it fades as you close your eyes and melt into his kiss. In that moment, the world blurs—the chaos, the noise—everything softens, leaving just the rhythm of his breath and the warmth of his presence.

The touch of his warm hand feels like a warm lantern in the dark and cold of the night. It's a comfort, a reassurance that you never knew you needed until now. You wish for nothing more than his touch, his presence, to stay with you, to never let go. In this fleeting moment, everything else fades away, and all that matters is the warmth of his hand in yours. You never want to leave this small, perfect moment.

You pull apart first, your cheek flushed, the rush of blood making your head spin. You’ve kissed others before—men and women, but none of those kisses were like this. Not this urgent, not this brief. There’s something about it that stirs something deeper inside you. You feel shy, vulnerable, as if something sacred has just unfolded between you. His warm eyes meet yours, looking at you with such intensity that it threatens to overwhelm you. Something catches in your throat, and you blink rapidly, fighting back tears. It’s a moment you never want to forget, a fleeting piece of time you wish you could hold on to forever.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, hand caressing yours.

You swallow, steadying your breath. “I—yeah, just… I never felt like this. Its so different.”

“Different good, I hope?” He said softly, placing his forehead gently against yours.

You nodded, the closeness is making your heart race. “Yeah, different good”

He stays there for a heartbeat longer, unwilling to pull away, as if afraid the quiet connection between you might vanish the moment he does. The world around you is eerily still—too still for a soldier like him. It feels too gentle, too faint, a softness he's not accustomed to. His heart beats faster, the silence pressing in around you both.

You rest your head to his shoulder, looking at the cigarette in your hand so fondly. “It's so…quiet”

He shifts slightly, his warmth pressing against you, grounding you in the quiet. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice almost drowned by the peace surrounding you both. “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curls upwards, disappearing into the night.

“I feel like a storm is about to happen” You whispered, voice certain. The words hang in the air, as if they were supposed to happen.

He turned towards you, his expression unreadable for a moment as he studied your face. "Ugh, I hate this," He muttered, a dry humor lacing his voice. "After this hell of a storm, there's another one waiting. What a drag." He let out a short, humorless chuckle, but his face remained unreadable, the tension in his eyes betraying the joke.

“A warrior can’t catch a break, huh?” You teased, a grin playing at the edges of your lips.

“Nope,” he shot back, the word blunt, almost with a hint of amusement, as if the irony of it all wasn’t lost on him.

“Honestly, if I were a Titan Shifter, there’s no way I’d have the guts to bite my hand or slice it open to transform,” You say, chuckling at the thought of it.

He takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a grin. "You should try it, it’s a real rush." He taps the cigarette, letting the ashes fall to the ground.

You shake your head, smiling “Uh—huh, sure. ‘cause nothing says fun like turning into a giant nutcracker wrecking everything in sight.”

“It's oddly therapeutic, you should try it sometime. Nothing like the feeling of smashing stuff to really clear your head.”

The banter continues, but with each passing minute, the mood shifts. Your laughter fades, swallowed by the deeper currents of the conversation. You both sit there, the world moving around you, but the two of you remain anchored to the moment, surrounded by the haze of smoke and words that were meant to be light but now feel heavy.

Your cigarette, now little more than a smoldering nub, threatens to fall, but neither of you moves to snuff it out. It's one of those moments that doesn’t seem to need much attention, as if the world’s outside the bubble you’ve created. A bubble where jokes come easy and laughter rings free, even though neither of you could be further from truly being carefree.

You glance over at him—the man beside you, Porco Galliard. The man who has seen and done things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The man whose hands have taken countless lives for the sake of his country, soldiers who never had a chance. The man who wears the burden of the Titan Shifters curse like a second skin. And yet, despite all of that, here he is, sitting beside you, casually flicking ash from his cigarette as if this were the most normal conversation in the world.

"You think smashing things is fun?" you ask again, this time with less sarcasm, more curiosity. A genuine question.

Porco pauses, his gaze shifting toward the horizon for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is steady but edged with something darker. "I'm smashing things because of orders. It's not fun at all. It's torture.”

“You ever get tired of it?" You ask, not sure what answer you're hoping for. You expect him to laugh, to brush it off, maybe even make another joke. But instead, he seems to sink deeper into his thoughts, his gaze fixed on something distant.

“Tired? You don't get tired. You just keep going, that's all you can do. You just keep moving and hope that you're not too far gone to realize you've lost everything.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and final, but you can see it in his eyes—he knows the truth. He’s lost everything. The weight of it settles around him like a shroud, suffocating, unspoken. He still has his parents, but that’s not enough. Not without Marcel. Without Marcel, what’s left for him? The bond they shared, the brotherhood, was the one thing that tethered him to something real, something that made the endless violence and sacrifice bearable. But now, in the aftermath, it’s all gone.

You listen to Porco’s words, and for a moment, the air between you feels thick, like there’s more than just the weight of the conversation in that space. There’s something you both share now, something you never thought you’d relate to.

Your fingers brush the cold metal of the lighter in your pocket, instinctively reaching for it. You’ve held it a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels heavier than it ever has. The two wings carved into the surface—delicate and intricate—are a reminder of a place you can never go back to, a memory that’s already fading at the edges. A gift from back home. A piece of something you’ve left behind, but it doesn’t feel like a gift anymore. It feels like a weight.

Guilt surges up from somewhere deep inside you, twisting your stomach. You close your eyes for a brief second, overwhelmed by the flood of memories that rush in. Home, warmth, faces you can’t recall without pain. The weight of responsibility that was thrust upon your shoulders—too young, too unprepared, yet here you are, carrying the same heavy burden that Porco now bears, the same impossible task of surviving a world that seems to demand too much.

Your hand tightens around the lighter, but the feeling of loss doesn’t ease. It only makes the ache sharper, a reminder that you can’t go back, and you can’t undo what’s already been done.

“I have also lost some important people in my life, the people that have shaped me to be who I am now.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a brief moment, you almost regret saying anything at all. But there's a truth in it, something raw and real that hangs in the air between you both. The people who helped mold you, who gave you purpose, who made you feel human—those are the ones that stick with you, long after they’re gone. And it’s their absence that leaves the deepest scars.

“It’s like they’re still with you, but not really,” you add, your voice distant. “You carry them with you, but sometimes it feels like they’re just ghosts. And all you can do is try to make sense of it all, even when it doesn’t make sense anymore.”

"You know," he says after a beat, the humor in his voice gone, replaced by something more subdued, "sometimes I wonder if I'd be less of a mess if he was still around. Maybe he could’ve talked me out of some of the shit I’ve done.”

You don’t respond right away. The shift in his tone isn’t lost on you. It’s not the playful jab you’d been expecting, but something rawer, something closer to the truth than either of you had expected to share.

"You don't need him to tell you what’s right or wrong, Porco," you say softly, trying to keep the conversation grounded. "You’ve been making your own choices for a long time now. Maybe it’s time you stop leaning on ghosts to figure out what you’re doing.”

Porco’s gaze flickers toward you, a wry smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess you’re right. But it sure would’ve been nice to have someone who actually got it. Someone who didn't treat me like a fucking weapon.”

You feel the words hit you harder than expected. "You know, you’re not just a weapon, Porco. And you’re not the only one who's ever felt like one." The words spill out before you can stop them, the quiet vulnerability in your own voice surprising even you. You didn’t expect to be the one offering comfort here, but somehow, it feels right.

Porco takes a long moment to respond, staring at the cigarette between his fingers before flicking the ash off into the night. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to feel like one when that’s all anyone’s ever used you for.”

You don’t have an answer for that. Instead, you let the quiet settle in again, the space between you two filled with an understanding that doesn’t need words.The conversation, like everything else, eventually fades into something quieter, easier. But there’s still the lingering feeling that, despite the ghosts, despite the weight of everything that’s been said and done, you’re both still here. Still standing. Still breathing.

“Maybe one day we’ll stop letting the past haunt us so much,” you say, almost to yourself, more as a hope than a statement. "Maybe then we’ll figure out who we really are, without all the ghosts.”

Porco glances at you, that familiar smirk returning, though there’s something softer about it now. "Maybe. But I wouldn’t hold my breath."

You grin, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, well, we’ve been breathing this long, haven’t we?”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, and for a moment, the world feels a little lighter, the weight of the past suspended in the air around you. The sound of your laughter breaks the tension, and you take a deep breath, letting it all go for just a second.

You glance down at the short bud of your cigarette, finally snuffing it out on the ground, watching as the small amber glow fades.

"This has been one interesting conversation, don't you think?" you say, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, it has been," he says, his voice softening a bit. "I kinda enjoyed this..." He glances at you for a moment, his expression unexpectedly earnest, before looking down and snuffing out his own cigarette.

You yawn, the small droplets of tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. The conversation had been so engaging, so full of playful teasing and back-and-forth, that you hadn't even noticed how tired you were becoming. The words and laughter had kept you wide awake, but now, with the sudden stillness between you two, the exhaustion caught up to you all at once.

You rub your eyes, stifling another yawn, and glance at Porco. "Guess I didn’t realize how tired I was," you admit, your voice a bit slower now. "This conversation’s been so much fun, I almost forgot about sleep.”

Porco glances at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn’t think a conversation could wear you out," he says, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. "Guess I’m just that interesting, huh?"

You let out a soft laugh, rubbing your eyes. "I think it’s just a combination of you and how late it’s gotten.”

Feeling the drowsiness creeping in fully now. Porco watches you for a moment, his smirk replaced with something more genuine. "Take care of yourself, alright? Don’t keep your bed waiting.”

You flash him a tired smile, nodding.”I'll try, need a shower first though. See you around, Mr. Galliard.”

You pivot on your heel, heading toward the nurses' barrack, but suddenly stop, realizing you’ve forgotten something. Turning back, you casually call over your shoulder, “Oh, and if you ever need some tender, love, and care, just head to the Marley Military Hospital and ask for (Name) (Last name).” You drop your name nonchalantly, a playful glint in your eyes.

As you glance back, you catch Porco scratching the back of his neck, his ears tinged pink, a smirk tugging at his lips. He seems caught off guard, yet amused by your casual remark.

The man glanced at you one last time before walking back in the opposite direction, a strange warmth settling in his chest. There was a sense of closeness, an unspoken connection that lingered in the air. He knew he’d see you again.

As he entered the barrack and made his way to his cot, a giddy excitement bubbled up inside him, the feeling of anticipation and something more—something he couldn’t quite place, leaving him smiling to himself as he settled in for the night.

As he lay down on his cot, the blanket feeling unusually warm around him, a smile spread across his face. There was something about the way you had casually dropped your name, something about the playful teasing and the easy way you two had connected, that had stirred something inside him. It wasn’t just the usual flirtation, it felt like the start of something new, something exciting.

He turned onto his side, eyes closing, but his mind was far from the quiet darkness of the barracks. Instead, it was filled with the memory of your smile, the sound of your voice, and that small spark of warmth he couldn’t ignore.

His heart thudded with that familiar feeling like the glow of a new flame flickering to life. It was different from anything he’d felt before, but it was real. He could feel it deep in his chest, the flutter of excitement, the anticipation of what might come next.

He chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head as he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, his thoughts still lingering on you. He had a feeling that this new connection—this spark was only just the beginning.

Just like the cigarettes, the two of you had snuffed out the conversation, the words fading into silence. What had been a lively, playful exchange now rested quietly, the air still with the echoes of your teasing and laughter. As the both of you walked away, the moment came to an end, leaving behind a comfortable sense of finality, like the last ember of a cigarette dying out. The connection had been made, and now, it was simply a matter of waiting for the next time.

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