#and then it's marley suits levi

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

longer chapter today!! let me know what you guys think and as always ily <3

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter

preface - chapter one

CHAPTER TWO

Your entire body stood still as your eyes almost frantically took in what you were seeing.

It's him.

Really him.

Both of you stood in silence, just looking at each other from across the room. Levi was wearing a navy blue casual suit, standing as tall as he did when he left.

Your lips let out a gasp when you look at the right side of his face, a scar from his forehead, over his right eye, to his mouth.

You blink to stop the tears from falling, the feelings you've been harboring for years almost coming to the surface.

Levi stood, still as stoic as ever, almost as if you were a stranger to him. But you could see the ever so slight softness in his eye as he places a. crate of tea on the counter.

Neither of you wanted to speak first. You and Levi are both stubborn as hell, and given the fact that it's been 12 years since you last saw each other, someone had to speak.

"You own a tea shop now?" You clear your throat as you look at him sheepishly.

"Yeah." His reply was short as his eyes drank in your appearance. Obviously you've grown up since he left, as did he. The signs of war can be seen all over his face - the way he speaks, the bags under his eyes, the way his hands look battered.

"It's not open yet, but it will be soon. We just got a shipment in of tea from a few towns over." Levi's voice was deep as he moved in front of the counter he was standing behind a minute ago. "How did you get here?"

"That's what you want to say to me? After 12 years?" Your eyebrows scrunch as you look at him, your feelings of empathy now replaced with anger. "You don't ask me how I've been, if I'm okay - just how I got here?"

He only nods as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Yes."

You scoff, shaking your head as you press your palm to your cheek. "You didn't even try to look for me. It's like all those years meant nothing -"

Levi looked away when you said that, avoiding that conversation completely. "Would you like some tea?"

You don't answer, simply staring at him.

"It's on the house."

"No." You finally say, the word tasting like poison in your mouth. You never liked telling Levi no. In your perfect world, you would give him everything he's ever dreamed of.

But you're not in your perfect world.

"Goodbye, Levi." You turn around and walk out of the tea shop, the sun kissing your skin again as the noises of children playing and people laughing fill your ears.

You don't turn around, knowing that Levi was probably standing at the door, watching you leave.

Just like you had to watch him leave.

As days went by, you found the brothel on the outskirts of Marley that was up and running. There were no other options for you - you weren't going to ask Levi for help, and this is the only job you know how to do.

You're in your room at the brothel, filing your nails and getting yourself ready for the night ahead when you hear a knock at your door.

"Come in."

"Hey, a few of us are gonna get some dinner before we all have to work tonight. Wanna join us?" One of the girls, Leona asked. She was nice enough, welcoming to you when you knocked on the brothel's door late at night, asking for a place to sleep in return for working.

You've never really had friends, always in isolation. Even when you had Levi, it was only the two of you.

"Sure, yeah. Let me finish getting ready." You give her a friendly smile as you stand up, moving to the mirror to fix your hair and grabbing your jacket.

A handful of girls from the brothel came to dinner, discussing random things that happened during the day and some funny stories, while getting to know each other. For once, you had a warm plate of food in front of you and company around you.

There wasn't any looming danger that you felt. You didn't feel like you had to hide, or defend yourself.

You just got to live.

Is this what the people beyond the walls got to feel every day?

"So," Leona says your name, taking a sip of her water. "You said you're from the Underground, right? What was that like?"

You shift in your seat, the memories of living in filth, not having food for days, and loneliness creeping into your mind.

"It wasn't anything like this. Think of something light and airy, fun even. The underground is the complete opposite of that.

"You know, I heard that Captain Levi is from the Underground, did you know him?"

You freeze. Your entire body paralyzed.

The girls stared at you for a moment, waiting for your answer as you try to regain some composure.

"Yeah, I knew him. Barely." You lie.

"He's so cute, I've seen him walk by the brothel." One girl gushes, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger.

"Has he ever been in?" You ask curiously.

"No, but I wish. I would give him anything he wanted."

You let out a sigh of relief, one that you shouldn't have had in the first place.

You managed to avoid the rest of the conversation about Levi, the other girls gushing over how cute he is.

They don't know the real, true Levi.

The Levi who would give his life for someone else.

The Levi who slept on the streets in the dead of winter. The Levi that shared a slice of bread with you that had to last you until the next week.

They will never know the real Levi.

Dusk came and went, and customers were starting to trickle their way into the brothel. Most men came to escape their wives or families, or they were just lonely and had money to waste.

You sat in the front room, the house mother watching over the girls and making sure everyone looked decent for tonights clients.

Wearing a curve hugging black dress, the neckline dipping low to show off your assets, your hair in loose curls and light makeup, you were ready for the night.

Another night of meaningless sex. Making men feel better about themselves.

It felt like hours went on when someone finally sat at your table, his footsteps almost silent as he sat.

Without looking up, you speak. "What service are you looking for?" You look down at your nails, examining the nail beds.

"Full service." You heard the deep, familiar voice.

Your eyes shot up to his, your eyebrows subconsciously furrowing in confusion. "Levi? What the hell are you doing here?"

He stayed silent, putting his wallet on the table as he stared into your eyes. "I said full service. You don't need to ask questions."

You look around, the other girls almost gawking at the scene in front of them.

"No."

"You can't refuse to service me, I know how this shit works." He pulls out a wad of money, handing it to you. "There's $3,000 there."

When you look at the money, your eyes grow wide. $3,000? Where did he even get this kind of money?

You stand up and let out a huff before tilting your head to the side, instructing him to follow you to your bedroom.

His footsteps are quite literally almost silent, you almost thought he ran away at one point. But you know better, Levi Ackerman doesn't run away from shit.

When you get to your room, you turn around to face him and almost melt. He's still so handsome. All of the life, the war he saw, only made him more handsome to you.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"What did I say about questions?" Levi slowly unbuttoned his shirt, not breaking eye contact with you. "I came here for full service, not for an interview."

"You know damn well this is not a simple exchange of sex, Levi. And you've never even been here before."

"How would you know that?" He tilts his head in the cutest way that reminds you of when you were teenagers.

"The other girls in here are apparently big fans of yours. They were talking about you today."

"Ah, I see." He nods, loosening his tie as he gazes into your eyes.

"Can you answer one question for me at least?"

"Jesus, you're still as stubborn as ever." He huffs, shaking his head. "No."

"What about after then?" You take a step toward him, pushing your hair over your shoulder. You needed answers. At least some.

"No."

"I know it took a lot for you to come here." Your voice is softer now, plush against your lips.

Levi told you about his mother about 4 years after you met him. All you knew was that his uncle Kenny raised him, but you never heard about his parents.

He always seemed so fearless, like he didn't need anyone else. Maybe that's why you never wanted to pry about his mother.

The night he told you, it was a full moon. Sitting in the streets, leaning against one another for warmth as you talk about the past, as if they were lullabies.

"My mother worked at the brothel." He spoke, his voice timid. "That's where I grew up until Kenny found me."

"Found you?" You turn to look at him, noticing the subtle hurt in his eyes.

"Yeah, she died in our room. She was sick I think, and we were starving most of the time. But she was so beautiful, from what I can remember."

"I bet you look just like her." You give him a reassuring smile, your fingers gently brushing his cheek. "The Ackerman genes are unstoppable."

He gave you a laugh, a real one, one that you wish you could put in a box and listen to forever.

"I was just waiting for the right woman to be here is all." He looks down into your eyes, searching your gaze.

"You're a shit liar." You sigh as you take off your shoes, beginning to undress. "Tell me why you're here."

"For full service."

You groan, your head tilting back in frustration before you look a him, and he has that stupid grin on his face. His scar moves slightly as his lips quirk up - causing you to smile.

Seeing Levi Ackerman smile is like seeing an angel in front of you.

When you look up again, his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer to him when you notice his right hand is missing the index and middle finger. He gripped your body as if you were going to disappear at any moment, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss so bruising that it would be a shame if anyone else kissed you after this.

But you push your palms to his chest, keeping a distance as you look in his eyes. "Levi, enough - tell me what the hell you're doing here."

"For a." He brought his lips to yours again, speaking through kisses. "Full Service." He was starting to lose his breath as he pulled you close to him, your bodies pressed impossibly together. "From you."

[leviismybby]

Sharing one bed with Levi during drip to Marley where you two are broken up, the tension in the air is thick, neither of you speaks. "I'll take the left side." You say, not in the mood for talking, Levi doesn't say anything just nods his head as she watches you sit on the bed. You can't help but glance over at him as he leans against the wall and looks outside of the window, as much as you hate to admit it, he looked good in that blue suit. Darting your eyes back to the selling, Levi looks over at you, his eyes lingering on your legs that were covered by stockings. Fuck he misses the feeling of them being wrapped around him as he- Levi says in his head, not letting those lewd thoughts enter his head. You were his ex and that's how it's going to stay. After a few minutes, you speak. "I have to change." Getting up from the bed, you make your way to your bag and pull out your nightgown. Of course, you packed that instead of just your normal pajamas but the silk was comfortable to sleep in.

Levi isn't looking at you, his back is turned on as he is too busy looking at the streets down below, wondering just how different the life was here than it was back on Paradis. You put your leg up on the chair to take the legging under your skirt off, you look back at Levi to make sure he isn't paying attention before rolling your skirt up, exposing your thigh as you roll one of the long stockings down. What you don't know is that Levi can see your every move in the mirror next to your bed, he knows he should look away but he can't, his eyes remain on you, on that beautiful body of yours as you undress. It isn't long before he feels his cock getting hard in his trousers, all he wanted to do was grab you, pin you to the bed and fuck your brains out but you were an ex. Just an ex...... So why does he find himself longing after that skin of yours, those lips of yours? However this night ends, he knows it won't without one of you lighting up that flame of intense passion and lust that never died out in the first place.

You take the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, Levi has been quiet and that makes you suspicious but you're too tired to deal with his attitude. Levi's eyes follow your back, the soft skin he is begging to touch, he waits for you to take off that last piece of clothing to see your naked body in the dim light of the room. To think that he knows it so well, every curve, every imperfection and it hits him then, he doesn't want another man to see your body. "I just have to put the nightgown on then you can turn around again." You say but before you can put the silk fabric on, Levi's next words send shivers down your spine. "There is no need for that." He takes your waist and spins you around, the look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine and makes your stomach turn. You open your mouth to say something and instead, Levi crushes his lips into yours, kissing you passionately. Every inch of your mind is screaming at you to push him away but your body gives in, your arms wrap around hi neck, welcoming his lips and his tongue. Your mind follows, letting him in completely.

And just like that, the old fire is burning more than it ever was before as your kiss turns messy, Levi's hands go down to your ass and he squeezes it, making you moan against his mouth. "Up." He says against your lips, his voice rough with lust, you jump up, wrapping your legs around his body. Levi carries you to bed, kissing and nipping on your neck as he lays you down on the soft sheets. He pulls away after a moment looking down at you, you're only in your underwear, he can't look away from you. This time you're the one who makes the move, you pull him down by his tie and kiss him, Levi grunts against your lips lying between your open legs, you feel how hard, how desperate he is for you. Your hands tig on his jacket, Levi takes it off, and he makes quick work of his tie and blouse, both found themselves on the floor next to the bed. You bite your lip, admiring his muscular form, he has got even more manly and you love it. Quickly, you reach for his belt, undoing is clumsily but before you can reach his zipper Levi stops you.

"Let me taste you first." Spreading your legs wider, Levi kisses down your body, he takes your nipple into his mouth, your body arching slightly at the action. He moved on, leaving a wet trail of his lips behind as he reached your underwear, he took them between his teeth and pulled them down, revealing your glistening wetness. "Fuck..." He grunts out before leaning down to lick your slit, your breath catches in your throat, hands immediately flying to his soft hair. His tongue starts to move more hungry, he doesn't let a single inch space him, the sloppy sounds of his mouth on your pussy and your moans are all that can be heard in the room. "Missed this fucking pussy so much." Levi mumbles taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it gently, your hips buck against his face, his hands are grabbing your thighs, running up and down the skin. Those gray sharp eyes look up at you, his tongue flickering against your clit, the sight of you like this is something he wants to save in his memory forever.

His mouth works wonders on you, leaving you to be a moaning mess, he doesn't mind you gripping his hair, it drives him more knowing that the pleasure you're feeling is because of him. He knows you, knows exactly how to drive you over the edge and just when you were about to hit that delicious peak, he pulls away leaving you whining. A string of salvia is connecting his lips to your pussy as he pulls away. Levi licks his lips, kissing your twitching pussy, his mouth kisses up again. "I can't wait anymore. I need to fuck this cunt of yours." You nod watching as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard cock coming into your view. He lets you pump him in your hand a couple of times before he positions himself against your wet entrance and pushes in, a slight gasp leaving his lip. "Oh yeah...shit..." His head falls back, his eyes rolling at the back of his head, there is nowhere he would be more than right here like this.

With a deep breath, he starts to slam into you, his cock sliding into your warm walls. "Yes, Levi!" You moan, your hands on his lower back feeling each move of his hips. His eyes are filled with determination, he is focused on one thing and that thing is fucking you. Your voice gets louder and louder as his thrusts get faster and faster, each slam on his hips sending a different wave of pleasure through you. "Harder Levi! I want my harder!" He places his hands on your hips, giving you what you wanted, fucking you harder on his cock. The bed starts to creak under the two of you, the wooden headboard slamming against the wall. "Fuck yes! Right there Levi!" Your hands take hold of his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips. "Yeah? Right here?" He says through gritted teeth, pounding you deeper and harder, making you both lose yourself in the intensity of the moment. This wasn't the right place nor the right time given that there is someone in the room next to yours and they are most likely hearing you two have sex right now. But it feels too good for the two of you to stop.

Levi's hands drop from your hips and he leans down against your body, kissing you on the lips while moving his hips, hitting deep inside of you. The kiss is sloppy, you feel the way his hands are gripping the sheets beside your head as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. Pulling away from the kiss, Levi grunts when your warm walls squeeze around his cock, he takes hold of the shaking headboard for support with both of his hands and then starts to thrust into you so hard that you scream out his name, your nails scratch down his back causing Levi to hiss but his hips only get more aggressive. "Fuck. This fucking pussy will be the end of me." The grip on his bad is hard, so hard that the wood starts to break at one point and you aren't even surprised, he has that habit. You feel his cock twitching inside of you as he hits that deep spot. "Yes Levi! I am cumming! I am cumming!" You yell, Levi spits on his fingers and starts to run your clit while keeping up his harsh pounding.

"Levi!" You scream and then squirt all over him, Levi stops moving for a second. "My my...I forgot that my girl was a squirter." Resuming his movements, Levi takes hold of the headboard again, feeling his orgasm built up. "Oh shit. I'll fucking cum.." With one last hard thrust, he quickly pulls out and spills his seed all over your stomach. Both of you close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of each other. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you. Levi takes hold of your hosp again without even asking you. "Are we going for round two?" You smile and Levi smirks slightly. "No. We are going for ten more."

And that's exactly how it was. You two ignored the glaring looks Jean and Connie sent your way the next morning. When Hange informed you later on that they had a room next to you and Levi you felt bad but Levi just whispered in your ear. "Then they better prepare because I'll fuck you even harder later tonight."

[cosmicjoke]

I saw @acmeangel's analysis post on this scene, which is fantastic and which everyone should read, and I was going to add my thoughts to their post, but then it got too long (as usual), and I didn't want to hijack their analysis, so I decided to just make my own, haha. This really is an important scene which essentially encapsulates the difference between Levi and Erwin and which I think ultimately showcases what makes Levi such a genuine hero.

One of the overarching messages of AoT is that we shouldn't give up our humanity in pursuit of an ideological goal. I've talked a lot about how Levi puts his trust in Erwin and admires him so much because he sees Erwin's ability to set aside his personal feelings for the greater good as a virtuous quality, one which Levi hopes to be able to one day emulate. Levi sees Erwin as superior to himself for this ability, because Levi, no matter how hard he tries, isn't ever able to do the same. He's never able to set emotion aside. He's never able to make decisions detached from emotion. He's never able to send soldiers to their deaths without it tearing him apart and creating in him a sense of conflict. He's never quite able to convince himself that the thing these soldiers are dying for, which they choose to die for, is actually worth it, which is also why he works so hard to bring their goal to fruition. He can't accept that those lives were given in vain, but the only way to ensure that they weren't is to make their dream comes true. Because to Levi, it's their lives that have value, not the cause itself.

One of Levi's most defining traits, one which makes him stand out from basically every other character in the story, is that he has no dream of his own. Rather, he carries the dreams of others, makes himself the custodian of those dreams, and dedicates himself to their realization.

When he says in this scene that a pointless death doesn't suit anyone, what he's saying is that the cause Erwin is sacrificing soldiers for has to prove itself worthy of their lives, that it has to amount to something equal in value to those lives. Because that's the thing, Levi values life above all else. He sees each, individual life as being as important as the whole of humanity, and I think that aspect of Levi's character is demonstrated fully during the RtS arc, when he makes the choice to end Erwin's suffering. People argue and claim that Levi made the wrong choice here because they don't understand the thematic significance of it, getting caught up in speculation about whether Erwin would have been able to prevent the war between Paradis and Marley, whether Erwin would have been able to stop the Rumbling, etc... By getting caught up in that, they completely miss the point of how the story wants the audience to understand the importance of not giving up our humanity for any cause. It's trying to show us, through Levi's choice, why we can't let any cause or ideological movement turn us cruel. Levi's refusal to be cruel, his refusal to throw away his humanity, is meant to be seen as a good thing, and ultimately, ironically, it's Levi's humanity and compassion that makes him a superior man to Erwin.

Erwin tries to assuage his own guilt by telling himself that the lives given were for a cause greater than any, individual life. The cause of humanity. This is a narrative he clings to until he's forced to admit to himself that what he really was after in sending all these soldiers to their deaths was his personal pursuit of knowledge, in another attempt to assuage his guilt for the death of his father. Erwin sacrifices his humanity for a goal which is self-serving, and as he's forced to contend with that reality, his guilt grows tenfold, fracturing his psyche and self-identity. But even if his every decision had been for the so-called greater good, even if he'd been 100% dedicated to his duty as Commander, he still would have been left with a sense of guilt and self-loathing for sacrificing lives to this nebulous cause, just like Hange ultimately was, because the whole point of the contrast between Levi and Erwin is to show that, in the end, Levi is the one whom the audience should strive to emulate, not Erwin.

This moment in the story is driving home the point of choosing compassion over ideology, or even duty. Levi's choice is imperative in demonstrating to us that if we sacrifice our own, personal humanity, if we give into becoming cruel and unfeeling, if we lose sight of the very thing that drove us to wanting the world to be a better place to begin with, that being our compassion and desire to end the suffering of others, no matter how justified the cause may seem, we're essentially sacrificing humanity itself. Because it's when you start becoming cruel, for any cause, that everything turns to shit, both for ourselves and the world around us. It's cruelty that leads into justification of more cruelty, which leads into justification of atrocities. Bringing Erwin back, forcing him back into that role which was tearing him apart, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, would have been purely an act of cruelty. But Levi isn't a cruel man. He's exactly the opposite. He's a man defined by his compassion and kindness. And what is AoT advocating for if not greater compassion and kindness in the face of a cruel world? It's telling us that the kind of compassion that Levi showed to Erwin in his dying moments is how we should choose to fight against the world's injustices and cruelties.

Because all the bad things that happen in AoT, essentially, happen because of a willingness to sacrifice ones humanity for ideology or for personal, selfish desires, and because it's those of us who retain our humanity and compassion, despite the cruelty of the world, and despite any supposed duty to any professed cause, that end up being able to live, as Levi says, with no regrets. This idea of sacrificing what we know is right for some abstract, nebulous goal of a better tomorrow is what leads to the destruction and corruption of our inner selves, and that, ironically, makes a better tomorrow impossible. If we become corrupted, if we allow ourselves to be lost to this idea of the greater good, in the end, it will only continue on the cycle of destruction.

Levi never sacrifices what he believes is right, never acts in any way which goes against his conscience. He never betrays his humanity. He maintains his compassion from beginning to end, and he never wavers in what he's fighting for, which, again, is every, individual life. That's what makes Levi a hero. His inability and refusal to set his personal feelings aside is, in the end, meant to be seen as the correct course. Because Levi's personal feelings have nothing to do with a dream or a goal. They have nothing to do with an ideology or movement. They aren't rooted in self-gain or greed. His sense of duty isn't to a cause, not to a country or an empire, or a sense of retribution or revenge. His duty, his obligation, is to doing what he feels, in his heart, is the right thing, what his personal feelings tell him is the right thing, no matter the situation or circumstances, no matter, even, if it turns out to have been the right choice or not. And that ties back into Levi's extraordinary compassion and empathy. It's his compassion and empathy which dictate his personal feelings of right and wrong, and his dedication to not betraying that sense is what ultimately dictates all his choices.

Levi thought of himself as a lesser man than Erwin because of this. Because of the way he wasn't able to set his personal feelings aside in the choices he made. It's why he chose to follow Erwin, because he thought it made Erwin superior to himself. But in truth, it's that quality of Levi's, that deep seated empathy, that makes him the better man. He can't detach himself from his compassion, he can't make choices without considering the consequences and impact of those choices on others, or even without making that consideration the principle factor in his choices, and that's a good thing. That's humanity. That's what makes the world a better place. By caring about how our choices affect others. That's not meant to be seen as a bad thing. Levi's kindness and empathy isn't meant to be seen as wrong.

Levi never betrays who he is, and he never betrays what he believes in, even as everyone around him does, at one point or another. That's true strength, that's true courage, that's true heroism. Someone who cares so much about people that he can't make a choice without factoring in the thoughts, feelings and desires of those people. Levi is meant to be the audience's role model, the character we're meant to want to be more like. Not Erwin. Because no matter how noble the goal we pursue, if we stop caring about each other in that pursuit, it all becomes for naught.

[the-traveling-poet]

𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟧 // 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 ~ 𝐻𝒶𝓉

Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader

SFW, s4

( A/N; ) Day 30! Omg it’s almost over already T-T. I sat here daydreaming abt how to make this abt Levi’s hat he wears in S4 when traveling to Marley, and…here we are :)

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“Never thought I’d see the day.”

Levi met your eye through the mirror he stood before with a frown that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What?” He deadpanned.

“The hat,” you prompted, pushing off the metal doorframe of the cabin.

“Levi Ackerman, wearing a suit and hat. Kinda suits you. And, is that a tie?”

Averting his gaze, Levi scoffed—you caught the slight pink dusting his cheeks.

“Onyankopon said we have to blend in; apparently this is that.”

Closing the boat door behind you, you sauntered over to him.

“Well, I like it.”

A tiny smile appeared on his face.

[l3visthighs]

Seeing Levi in his Marley trip suit changed lives.

[violet-fluff]

Levi x Marley! Reader (Oneshot)

At the drop of a handkerchief

You're strolling through the streets of Marley, humming happily as you eye all the new vendor booths that have come to sell merchandise on this sunny afternoon.

Food, flowers, jewelry, everything you can imagine is here today, with vendors waving you over in an attempt to sway you to buy something.

Although nothing was catching your eye and you were about to call it a day and head home until...

The most beautiful creation stopped you in your tracks.

With your heart pounding and your cheeks flushing red, you lean behind the wall, trying to hide yourself as you take in such a beauty.

But this beauty is no object....this beauty is a person.

A beautiful man.

Skin as white and shiny as a pearl.

Hair as dark as the night.

Eyes as grey as metal.

This man was nothing you have ever seen before.

Quite literally. The suit he’s also wearing is not something you typically see the men of Marley wearing.

He must be from a different country. Which means it will be harder for you to convince him to stay, because there is no way you’re letting this magnificent creature escape you.

Surrounded by his own group of people, you’re anxiety and nerves tell you that you’re not brave enough to go interrupt their conversation to start a new one, so you’re left with no choice…

Smoothing your hair and outfit, you start walking towards him with your head held high.

As you look towards the blue sky, you tell the universe to let it be known if he is your soulmate or not during this test.

As you inch closer, you smile to yourself as the group notices your presence, and when you walk barely past the beautiful man, you slyly flick your wrist to release your handkerchief.

‘One duck, two duck, three duck…’ You count in your head to time how long the seconds pass as you continue walking.

“Oi! You!”

Time stands still as your heart pounds and you do a smooth swivel of your feet to turn around. Your breath hitches when the beautiful man is waving your handkerchief at you.

“You dropped this.” He tells you, his face showing no emotion.

A bit intimidated, you slowly walk over to him, but before you can reach out and grab your belonging, he crumples it in his hand.

“It’s too dirty now.” He grunts, and with his slim fingers, he digs into the front pocket of his dark blue suit.

“Here, you can have mine. It’s clean.” He says, holding a perfectly folded handkerchief out to you.

“O-oh! Ok!” With shaky hands, you grab it from him and gently hold it in your palm. “Thank you, sir. This is very sweet of you.”

Bowing your head slightly in thanks, you quickly turn on your heels and leave.

He watches you leave and Gabi scoffs.

“Gross. I can’t believe I just witnessed that.” She says with a gag.

Levi raises a brow. “What?”

“You fell for the oldest trick in the book.” Falco laughs lightly.

“I have no idea what either of you are talking about.” Levi clicks his teeth and leans against the wall, continuing to watch you walk further and further away.

Onyankopon smiles gently. “It’s something Marley women do to get a man’s attention. They act like they drop something in hopes you pick it up for them.”

Levi’s eyes widen in realization while Hanji bursts out laughing.

“No way, shorty! She had her eyes on you!” Hanji grins and slaps his shoulder.

Falco smiles while Gabi pretends to puke again. “And you gave her a new handkerchief. She’s probably planning your wedding right now.”

Connie gasps. “Captain! Are you going to go after her!”

Levi clicks his teeth. “No. I don’t have time for romance. We have more important matters to work on right now.” He looks away to hide his embarrassment.

Jean sneers and adjusts his hat. “I can’t believe the captain is the one getting all the women.”

As they continue to pester Levi, you watch from afar through a window in a bakery.

“Um, Miss…” The clerk comes up behind you, “You have to buy something to sit in here.”

You wave him off with a hush and go back to watching over your soul mate.

*the dropping of an item to catch the attention of a man was a real tactic used by women during the Victorian era

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Sealing the Deal | #LeviMonth2024 Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war canonverse, fem!reader ✧ comments ➼ levi month entry for august 19! i may or may not have a part 2 in the works ✧ join my levi month taglist here!

{{ August 9 (Royalty + Soulmates Part 2) | August 22 (Love at First Sight + Neighbors Part 2) }} Masterlist

“Hey, do you wanna get married?”

Levi was caught a bit off-guard by your question, having not expected the sudden proposal. The two of you were already living together and regularly experienced the domestic life. Marriage wouldn’t have changed much.

“What?” you asked, with a subtle undertone of defensiveness present in your voice. “War’s over and restoration efforts are going smoothly. Why not?”

A few years had passed since the Rumbling, with the two of you having settled down in Marley. You had discussed marriage in the past, but the opportunity kept slipping away from you due to everything that was constantly popping up back on the island leading up to the Rumbling.

A small frown crept onto your face as you noticed that he had remained quiet the entire time.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” you added, slightly embarrassed at the idea of bringing it up if he wasn’t interested. “Was just a thought.”

“I didn’t say no,” he finally responded with a shrug. “Would like to not make it too big of a thing, though.”

Levi wasn’t too big of a fan of crowds, and neither were you. A lot of the friends that you would have originally invited had passed on, but the two of you would have likely eloped regardless. Having that exorbitant amount of attention placed on you for an entire day sounded like a nightmare.

You eventually decided on a garden wedding in the backyard of your home with a few close friends invited, primarily the remainder of the 104th that Levi had essentially raised, Gabi, Falco, Onyankopon, and a few others that you had kept in touch with post-war.

One of the first things you did upon settling down in Marley was building yourselves a house, which included a decently-sized backyard since the two of you liked sitting outside.

The ceremony was set to be simple—just a ring exchange and kiss, with some photos to keep for memories, and a potluck with friends afterwards. It’d feel significant enough, but you’d be able to keep it cozy and personalized in the way that made sense for the two of you.

You took a deep breath as you slipped into the dress that you had prepared for this special day. It was a simple white, flowery dress that flowed over your curves. You had found it at the market the other week while picking up some groceries and thought it was appropriate.

You weren’t sure why you were as taken aback as you were when you stepped out and landed your eyes on Levi. Similar to you, he had gotten a suit specifically for the occasion. He was beautiful as always, with his suit perfectly fitting his shoulders and hips. For a moment, the only thing going through your head was the thought of you ripping it off him later in the night.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have dedicated alone time with him until much later into the evening, you shook your head as you felt yourself getting worked up. You took a deep breath, instead directing your attention towards the little jewelry box in your hand that contained his wedding band.

You found yourself feeling nervous as you walked up towards him, with your heart pounding in your chest as your hands grew cold. It was silly to be as nervous as you were. You had seen him a million times. He had seen you at your worst. There was very little that could happen that would actually embarrass you in front of him. Yet, you still felt anxious.

You were fine once you actually stepped up to him, with your pulse resetting back to its baseline the minute you looked into his eyes and recognized the softer look in them that he reserved only for you.

Levi ran his one good eye down your dress, wondering when you had even gotten the time to get it. He hadn’t even been aware that you went out to secure the dress. You looked gorgeous in it, but Levi and you both knew that you could’ve worn pajamas to this and he wouldn’t have cared, other than maybe a bit of discomfort at the idea of getting home clothes dirty by wearing them outside.

He cleared his throat as a way of gathering both his own and your attention back to the present task—presenting your rings.

“Shall we?”

You had been distracted as you were gazing into his eyes, but you quickly readjusted and nodded, bringing out the small box.

“You first?”

Upon seeing his nod, you began to open the box, finding yourself fumbling with the small container due to your nerves.

Once you finally got it open, you lifted the cover to reveal the simple, deep dark green, single-colored band.

You were overly cautious as you pulled it out and stepped towards him, your hands visibly shaking as you brought the small piece of jewelry towards his extended hand.

Having noticed your nerves, Levi placed his other hand on your forearm to help steady you.

The simple touch was enough. It was like a breath of fresh air as your movements stilled, and you were able to smoothly slide the ring onto his finger.

You kept your own hand extended, watching closely as he pulled out a thinner, but overall matching ring. You had picked the rings out together, so you knew what yours looked like and that it fit perfectly, but you still felt nervous as you watched him slide it on.

You couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face as it finally hit you that you had “sealed the deal”, even though functionally, nothing had changed.

The two of you found yourselves just staring at each other in astonishment, the whole thing feeling surreal despite the fact that there wasn’t any form of a surprise factor to it.

“…you may now kiss the bride?”

Levi’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he scoffed at your cheesy joke.

“Smartass,” he muttered, before wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you in, your body pressing up flush against his. He gently pressed his lips against yours, and you shut your eyes, smiling into the kiss as you returned the affectionate gesture.

Functionally, nothing had changed. Yet, you still found yourself looking forward to experiencing a new chapter in your lives—one without war or violence, just each other, and weaving a life together that helped you encourage each other to keep moving forward.

#: @shayewrites @littlerequiem @mostlilo @humanitys-strongest-brat @dustbuniesworld @levisrations @ebechnasheim @moonchild-angel @jayteacups @bipolargatto @samackermaan @deepzombieyouth @pickledpedro @levisfavoriteteashop @ackermanswifee @ae-chidori @2dsimpomg

[shiorihyugawrites]

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)

Chapter Sixty

The Ackerman Estate hummed with a quiet frenzy, its stone halls alive with the clatter of dishes, the rustle of linens, and the murmured instructions of staff darting through the corridors. Late autumn had settled over Paradis, painting the gardens in shades of amber and crimson, the air crisp with the scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke. Inside, Solina moved like a whirlwind, her laughter echoing as she orchestrated last-minute preparations for guests she hadn’t seen in months. 

Dimaria and Elliot were coming to visit, their first trip to the estate since their wedding six months ago, and the first time they’d meet Solea, the two-month-old who’d already stolen every heart in the household. Solina’s excitement was a tangible force, her steps light as she flitted from kitchen to guest wing, her voice bright with anticipation.

The great hall, its oak beams polished to a gleam, was a hive of activity. Servants draped tables with cream linens, arranging vases of wildflowers—goldenrod and asters plucked from the estate’s fields—while others polished silver candelabras until they sparkled. In the kitchen, the cook barked orders over steaming pots, the aroma of roasted venison and rosemary bread wafting through the air. Solina paused by a sideboard, inspecting a tray of honey-glazed pastries, her fingers brushing the edge of a plate as she nodded approval. “These are perfect,” she said to the head maid, a stout woman with flour-dusted hands. “Dimaria loves anything sweet. Make sure we have extra.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” She replied, her smile warm but harried as she shooed a young footman carrying a stack of plates. “We’ll have enough to feed an army. Or at least that husband of hers—he seems like he could eat one.”

Solina laughed, her eyes crinkling. “Elliot’s appetite is legendary. Let’s not disappoint him.” She turned to a pair of maids folding napkins, their hands swift and precise. “The guest rooms are ready? Fresh linens, extra blankets? The nights are chilly now.”

“All set, Your Highness,” Lila said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “The suite for Princess Dimaria and Sir Elliot, with a fire laid and water pitchers filled.”

“Good,” Solina said, her mind already racing to the next task. “And the nursery—make sure Solea’s toys are tidy. Dimaria will want to see her the moment they arrive.”

Tessa nodded, her cheeks flushed from the morning’s bustle. “Already done, Princess. The crib’s made, and we’ve got that little bear she loves on the shelf.”

Solina’s smile softened, a flicker of maternal pride in her gaze. “Thank you. You’re all doing wonderfully.” She clapped her hands, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Let’s make this a welcome they’ll never forget!”

The estate’s energy was infectious, a reflection of Solina’s joy at reuniting with her sister. Dimaria had mended her bond with the family over the past year, her marriage to Elliot a turning point that brought her back into the fold. Their life on Princess Alice’s ranch, surrounded by horses and open fields, had grounded Dimaria, softening her edges, and Solina couldn’t wait to see the woman she’d become. Elliot, with his easy grin and cowboy charm, was the perfect counterbalance, and Solina knew he’d be just as eager to meet Solea, probably with a quip about teaching her to ride before she could walk.

Levi, as usual, was a calm anchor amid the chaos, leaning against a doorway with a mug of tea, his slate-gray eyes tracking Solina’s movements. She thrived on moments like this—family, connection, the chance to weave everyone together. He took a sip, his smirk faint as he watched her adjust a vase with unnecessary precision. “You’re gonna wear out the staff before they even get here,” he said, his voice low but teasing.

Solina glanced over, her hands on her hips, a mock glare in her eyes. “I’m ensuring everything’s perfect, Levi. Dimaria and Elliot deserve it.”

“Perfect’s overrated,” he said, stepping closer, his boots silent on the polished floor. “They’re coming for you, not the pastries.”

She softened, her smile warm as she reached for his hand, squeezing it briefly. “I know. I just… I haven’t seen her in months, Levi. And Solea—she’s going to love her aunt and uncle.”

Levi’s expression softened, a rare flicker of warmth in his gaze. “Kid’s got enough charm to win ‘em over. Like her mother.”

Solina’s cheeks flushed, and she nudged him playfully. “Flatterer. Go check on the stables, will you? Elliot’s probably bringing half the ranch with him.”

He snorted but nodded, draining his tea and setting the mug on a sideboard. “Fine. But if he tries to rope me into riding, I’m blaming you.”

As Levi headed out, Solina turned back to the hall, her mind drifting to the broader family. Solomon had returned to Valoria weeks ago, his “diplomatic” visits to Paradis cut short by imperial duties. Mikasa had stayed behind, still wrestling with his proposal to marry her and move to Valoria—a decision Solina understood all too well. Soleil had accompanied Solomon back home to Valoria. Solina missed her sister’s laughter, but she looked forward to their reunion in a few months, when she, Levi, and Solea would travel to Valoria for Solomon’s first-year coronation celebration. The thought of the entire imperial family—her parents, her siblings, all under one roof—filled her with a quiet joy. It would be a chance to see her mother thriving as Empress Dowager and her father embracing his quieter role.

Her reverie was interrupted by a young footman, his face flushed as he hurried into the hall. “Princess Solina, Captain Levi!” he called, spotting Levi just returning from the courtyard. “A message from the docks—Princess Dimaria and Sir Elliot have arrived on Paradis. They’re on their way to the estate now!”

Solina’s heart leapt, her hands clasping together. “Already? Oh, that’s wonderful! How long until they’re here?”

“An hour, maybe less,” the footman said, catching his breath. “Their carriage is moving fast.”

Levi raised a brow, his smirk returning. “Told you they’re not here for the fuss. They’re probably starving for a real meal.”

Solina swatted his arm, her laughter bright. “Then we’d better make sure it’s ready. Mara, tell the kitchen to start plating the venison! Lila, Tessa, one last check on the guest rooms!”

The staff sprang into action, their movements a well-oiled dance under Solina’s direction. She turned to Levi, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, let’s get Solea ready. Dimaria’s going to lose her mind when she sees her.”

They headed upstairs, the nursery a sunlit haven of soft blues and rose-carved wood. Solea lay in her crib, awake and cooing, her green eyes bright as she waved her chubby hands. Solina scooped her up, kissing her forehead. “Your aunt and uncle are coming, little one. Time to show off that smile.”

Levi leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She’s gonna have ‘em wrapped around her finger. Like someone else I know.”

Solina grinned, adjusting Solea’s tiny dress, a cream lace affair that made her look like a miniature rose. “Good. They deserve to be charmed.”

As they prepared, the estate buzzed with final touches, the anticipation building like a crescendo. Solina and Levi returned to the great hall, Solea nestled in Solina’s arms, her giggles a melody that rivaled any harp. The tables gleamed, the wildflowers glowed, and the air was thick with the promise of reunion. Dimaria and Elliot’s arrival would mark a new chapter, a moment to celebrate family, love, and the bonds that held them together across empires and oceans.

…

An hour later, the household stood poised in anticipation, a line of staff stretching from the oak doors to the courtyard’s edge, their uniforms pressed and faces bright with the shared excitement of their mistress. Solina, her heart a fluttering bird, could barely stand still, her feet shifting on the cobblestones as she clasped her hands, her eyes fixed on the road beyond the gates. Dimaria and Elliot were moments away, their carriage due any second, and the thought of seeing her sister after months apart made her feel like a girl again. Levi stood beside her, Solea cradled in his arms, her tiny hands waving as if sensing the occasion. His slate-gray gaze flicked to Solina, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he noted her barely contained energy.

“You’re gonna bounce right out of your shoes,” he said, his voice low and teasing, his tone softened by the warmth he reserved for her. “Calm down before you scare the kid.”

Solina shot him a playful glare, her smile undimmed. “I can’t help it, Levi. It’s my sister! And they’re meeting Solea for the first time. How am I supposed to be calm?”

He snorted, adjusting Solea against his shoulder, his hand steady on her back. “They’re not here for a royal inspection. They’re family. Relax.”

“Family’s exactly why I’m excited,” she said, her voice bubbling with joy. “Months, Levi. It’s been months since I’ve seen her. And she’s going to love Solea.”

Levi’s smirk softened, his eyes drifting to their daughter, who cooed and grabbed his finger. “Kid’s got that effect. Like her mother.”

Solina’s cheeks warmed, and she reached over to brush Solea’s cheek, her touch lingering. “Just wait until Dimaria sees her. She’ll be smitten.”

The staff, lined up in neat rows, murmured among themselves, their anticipation a quiet echo of Solina’s. Footmen and maids, their aprons crisp, exchanged glances, the younger ones barely containing their excitement at hosting a Valorian princess and her cowboy husband. The estate’s preparations—tables laden with venison and pastries, guest rooms warmed with fires, the nursery tidied—were a testament to Solina’s care, and the staff took pride in their role, their loyalty to her as deep as their respect for Levi, the soldier who’d won the Diamond of Valoria.

A low rumble broke the quiet, the sound of hooves and wheels on the road beyond the gates. Solina’s breath caught, her hands clasping tighter as a carriage came into view, its rosewood panels gleaming, drawn by two sturdy bays. The staff straightened, their murmurs fading, and Levi’s grip on Solea tightened slightly, his expression unreadable but his eyes alert. Solina, unable to contain herself, took a step forward, her excitement spilling over in a soft laugh. “They’re here!” she said, her voice a mix of glee and relief. “Oh, Levi, they’re here!”

“Easy,” he said, but his smirk widened, betraying his own quiet anticipation. 

The carriage rolled to a stop, the horses snorting as a footman hurried to open the gate. The door swung open, and Elliot stepped out first, his broad frame filling the space, his boots kicking up dust as he landed on the cobblestones. His navy coat was dusted from travel, but his grin was as wide as the ranch he called home, his blue eyes twinkling with warmth. He turned, offering a hand to Dimaria, who descended with a grace that belied the journey’s length. Her presence was radiant, her face glowing with a joy that spoke of newlywed bliss, her smile bright as she scanned the courtyard. The moment her brown eyes locked with Solina’s, time seemed to collapse, the years of distance and exile melting away.

“Solina!” Dimaria cried, her voice a burst of delight as she broke into a run, her skirts swishing.

“Dimaria!” Solina echoed, abandoning all decorum as she rushed forward, the sisters meeting in a fierce hug that sent them spinning like girls in a meadow, their laughter ringing through the courtyard. They clung to each other, their embrace a tangle of joy and relief, the weight of their past forgiven in the warmth of the moment.

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” Solina said, pulling back to cup Dimaria’s face, her eyes shimmering. “You’re here, you’re really here!”

Dimaria’s smile was radiant, her hands gripping Solina’s arms. “I couldn’t stay away any longer. Paradis, the estate, you—it’s like coming home.”

They laughed again, their voices overlapping, oblivious to the staff’s fond smiles or the footman awkwardly holding the carriage door. Levi watched from a few paces away, Solea still in his arms, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. Elliot, leaning against the carriage, caught his eye, his grin widening as he nodded toward the sisters. “Looks like we’re just the baggage, huh, Captain?”

Levi snorted, shifting Solea’s weight. “Always are with these two.”

Elliot chuckled, pushing off the carriage to approach Solina, who finally disentangled herself from Dimaria. “Elliot!” she said, her voice warm as she hugged him, her arms barely reaching around his broad shoulders. “Welcome to Paradis. I hope you brought your appetite.”

“Always, Solina,” he said, his drawl thick with humor as he returned the hug. “Heard your cook’s got venison. Might not leave.”

Solina laughed, stepping back to beam at him. “We’ll see about that. Dimaria, you’ve got him glowing as much as you are. Married life suits you.”

Dimaria’s cheeks flushed, her hand finding Elliot’s, their fingers lacing with an ease that spoke of deep contentment. “It’s been… perfect,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “The ranch, the horses, Elliot—it’s more than I ever dreamed.”

Elliot squeezed her hand, his grin softening. “She’s the one making it perfect. Keeps me on my toes.”

Levi approached, Solea nestled against his chest, her green eyes wide as she blinked at the newcomers. “Dimaria,” he said, his voice gruff but warm, a rare greeting from a man who spoke sparingly. “Good to see you.”

“Captain Levi,” Dimaria said, her smile bright as she stepped closer, her gaze already drifting to the bundle in his arms. “It’s been too long.”

“And who’s this little lady?” Elliot added, offering a nod, his eyes also locking on Solea. 

Solina’s heart swelled as she gestured to her daughter, her voice brimming with pride. “This is Solea. Your niece.”

Dimaria’s breath caught, her hands flying to her mouth as she leaned in, her brown eyes softening with awe. “Oh, Solina… she’s perfect,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. Solea blinked up at her, her big green eyes curious, a tiny hand waving as if in greeting. “Look at her! Those eyes, that smile—she’s a little rose, just like you said.”

Elliot peered over Dimaria’s shoulder, his grin widening. “Well, damn, she’s a charmer. Gonna break hearts, this one.” He reached out, hesitating, then brushed a gentle finger against Solea’s hand, earning a gurgle that made him chuckle. “Yup, she’s got me already.”

Dimaria’s heart melted, her hands hovering as if unsure whether to reach for the baby or simply stare. “Can I… can I hold her?” she asked, her voice a mix of eagerness and reverence.

“Of course,” Levi said, his tone softer than usual as he carefully passed Solea to Dimaria, his hands steady until she was secure. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

Dimaria cradled Solea, her movements gentle but sure, her face alight with wonder as the baby gazed up at her, a tiny smile curving her lips. “Oh, you’re so precious,” she cooed, rocking her gently. “Solina, she’s… she’s everything. How do you even put her down?”

Solina laughed, her eyes glistening. “It’s a struggle. She’s got Levi wrapped around her finger, too.”

“Damn right,” Levi said, his smirk faint but proud, his gaze lingering on his daughter.

Elliot slung an arm around Dimaria’s shoulders, watching her with Solea, his expression soft. “Looks like we’re gonna need one of these, Dimaria,” he teased, his drawl warm. “She’s stealing the show.”

Dimaria’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away from Solea, her voice playful. “One step at a time, cowboy. Let me spoil my niece first.”

The staff, still lined up, watched with quiet smiles, their formality softened by the family’s warmth. Mara stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. “Princess Solina, the hall is ready whenever you wish to bring your guests inside. Dinner’s warm, and the fires are lit.”

“Thank you, Mara,” Solina said, her gratitude genuine. “Let’s get everyone settled. Dimaria, Elliot, you must be exhausted from the journey.”

“Starving, mostly,” Elliot said, grinning as he patted his stomach. “Heard your cooks here are legendary. Don’t make me beg.”

Dimaria laughed, still cradling Solea. “He’s not joking. Lead the way, Solina.”

The group moved toward the estate, the staff dispersing to their tasks, their murmurs a soft backdrop to the family’s chatter. Solina led the way, her arm linked with Dimaria’s, Solea still in her sister’s arms, while Levi and Elliot followed, their low voices trading quips about the journey. The great hall welcomed them with warmth, its tables laden with steaming dishes, the wildflowers glowing under candlelight. As they settled, Dimaria’s fawning over Solea continued, her laughter mingling with Solina’s, the sisters’ bond a bright thread in the tapestry of the evening, a promise of memories yet to be made.

Dimaria bounced Solea gently, her brown eyes sparkling as she cooed at the baby. “You’re just too precious,” she murmured, brushing a finger against Solea’s cheek, earning a gurgle that made her heart melt. “Solina, how do you get anything done with her around? I’d be staring at her all day.”

Solina laughed, sinking into an armchair across from her sister, her hands folding in her lap. “It’s a challenge. She’s got Levi’s knack for demanding attention.”

Levi snorted, settling beside Solina, his arm resting on the chair’s back. “She’s got your charm, not mine. Already running the place.”

Elliot, sprawled in a chair next to Dimaria, chuckled, “Sounds like she’s got you both whipped. Can’t blame you, though.”

Dimaria grinned, adjusting Solea’s tiny dress. “Oh, look at those eyes! She’s going to have everyone wrapped around her finger.”

The conversation flowed easily, a tapestry of laughter and catching up. Solina leaned forward, her voice bright. “Tell me everything, Dimaria. The ranch, the horses, married life—how’s it been?”

Dimaria’s smile widened, her hands steady on Solea as she rocked her. “It’s… incredible. The ranch is so alive—horses galloping, the fields stretching forever. Elliot’s teaching me to break colts, and I’m still terrible at it, but he’s patient. And the quiet nights, just us and the stars—it’s like a dream.”

Elliot’s grin softened, his hand resting on Dimaria’s knee. “She’s selling herself short. She’s got a knack for the horses, even if she spooks ‘em sometimes. Best part’s coming home to her, though. Makes all the dust and sweat worth it.”

Solina’s eyes glistened, her joy for her sister palpable. “You’re both glowing. It’s like the wedding was yesterday.”

“Feels like it,” Dimaria said, her voice soft. “But it’s better now. Settled, you know? Like we’re building something real.”

Levi sipped his tea, his expression unreadable but his gaze warm. “Sounds like you’ve got it figured out. Better than most.”

Elliot nodded, his drawl thick. “Took some getting used to, being married to a princess. Still pinch myself sometimes.”

As the fire crackled, Mara entered with a bottle for Solea, warmed and ready. Dimaria’s eyes lit up. “Can I feed her?” she asked, her voice eager.

“Of course,” Solina said, passing the bottle. “She’s a good eater. Just watch her—she’s quick.”

Dimaria took the bottle, her movements careful but confident, as Solea latched on, her tiny hands grasping the air. Dimaria’s face softened, her voice a gentle hum as she fed the baby, the room falling into a comfortable quiet. Elliot watched, his blue eyes lingering on his wife and Solea, a flicker of longing in his gaze. Seeing Dimaria so natural with the baby stirred something in him, a quiet ache for a family of their own, but he tucked the thought away, content to savor the moment.

“She’s a pro,” Elliot said, his tone light but his eyes betraying his thoughts. “Look at that. Born for it.”

Dimaria blushed, focusing on Solea as she finished the bottle, then lifted her to her shoulder, patting gently until a soft burp escaped. “There we go,” she murmured, rocking her as Solea’s eyes fluttered, sleep claiming her. The baby nestled against her, her breathing steady, and Dimaria’s smile was radiant. “She’s out”

Solina’s heart swelled, her voice soft. “You’re a natural, Dimaria. She loves you already.”

Levi set his tea down, his gaze flicking to Elliot. “You’re awfully quiet, cowboy. Thinking about horses yet?”

Elliot grinned, catching the hint. “Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind seeing your stables. Heard you’ve got some decent stock.”

Levi’s brow arched, his smirk wry. “Knew you’d ask. Come on, let’s see if they pass your inspection.”

The men rose, Levi leading the way to the door, while Solina and Dimaria exchanged amused glances. “Don’t let him rearrange the tack room,” Solina called after them, her voice teasing.

“No promises,” Elliot shot back, his laughter trailing as they disappeared into the hall.

The sitting room settled into a quieter rhythm, the fire’s glow casting a warm halo around the sisters. Dimaria, still holding the sleeping Solea, leaned back, her expression softening. “This is nice,” she said, her voice low. “Just us, like old times.”

Solina nodded, tucking her legs under her. “I’ve missed this. Tell me more—what’s life really like on the ranch? And how’s Father? You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”

Dimaria’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, her fingers brushing Solea’s tiny hand. “Father’s been to the ranch a few times, with James, Gracelyn, and Ruby. It’s… good. He’s different now, softer. He talks about you and Solea, about Solomon’s reign. He’s proud, Solina, even if he doesn’t say it outright. But my mother…” Her voice tightened, her gaze dropping. “She’s still angry. We’re no contact. She’s furious about my marriage, about Solomon being emperor, about losing her place as Lily Consort. She had to move out of the Lily Estate to one of the smaller homes on the palace grounds—still lavish, but not what she wanted. It’s like she blames me for all of it.”

Solina’s heart ached, her hand reaching for Dimaria’s. “I’m so sorry, Dimaria. I can’t imagine how hard that is.  My mother and I are so close, I can’t fathom being at odds like that.”

Dimaria managed a small smile, squeezing Solina’s hand. “It’s okay. I’ve got Elliot, Father, you. I’m learning to let her go. But it stings, you know?”

“I know,” Solina said, her voice gentle. “You’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.”

The sisters sat in quiet understanding, the fire’s crackle a soft backdrop. Then Dimaria’s eyes sparkled, her tone shifting to a lighter, gossipy lilt. “Enough of that. Let’s talk about Solomon. His first year as emperor’s coming up in a few months! The capital’s going to be a madhouse—every royal under one roof. I can’t wait.”

Solina laughed, leaning forward. “It’s going to be incredible. Mother’s already planning the feasts, and the twins are probably plotting some prank. But you know, usually an emperor would have at least two consorts by now. Solomon hasn’t chosen one.”

Dimaria’s brow furrowed, her curiosity piqued. “He’s got half the court throwing their daughters at him. What’s holding him back?”

Solina’s smile turned knowing, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Mikasa. She’s the love of his life, Dimaria. He’s head over heels, and he wants to marry her—only her. No consorts, no politics. But she’s a foreigner, a soldier, not a noble. And the law—four consorts, three hundred years of tradition—it’s not easy to change. He’s fighting for her, though. I believe they’ll find a way.”

Dimaria’s eyes widened, her lips parting. “Mikasa Ackerman? One of the scouts? Oh, that’s… romantic. And messy. The court’s going to lose their minds.”

“Let them,” Solina said, her voice firm. “Solomon’s emperor. If anyone can rewrite the rules, it’s him.”

The sisters laughed, their voices mingling as they dove into speculation about the coronation celebration, the court’s reaction, and Mikasa’s decision. Solea slept on, a quiet anchor in Dimaria’s arms, the firelight dancing across her tiny form.

Meanwhile, in the stables, the air was sharp with the scent of hay and leather, the horses snorting softly in their stalls. Levi led Elliot through the rows, his expression neutral as Elliot inspected every detail with a critical eye. “This one’s got a weak fetlock,” Elliot said, nodding at a bay mare, his drawl thick with judgment. “And your tack’s hung too high—gonna dry out the leather.”

Levi rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “They’re horses from the Survey Corps, not your fancy ranch breeds. They get the job done.”

Elliot grinned, undeterred, poking at a saddle. “Job’s one thing, quality’s another. You need a better farrier, too. These shoes are half-worn.”

“Keep talking, and you’re mucking the stalls,” Levi said, his tone dry but lacking real bite. He tolerated Elliot’s nitpicking, knowing it came from passion, not malice.

Elliot laughed, clapping Levi’s shoulder. “Just saying, Captain. You’ve got a princess, a kid, an estate—step up your game.”

Levi “tch’d”, leading him out of the stables into the fading light, the estate’s silhouette looming ahead. The walk back was quiet at first, the crunch of gravel under their boots the only sound. Levi wasn’t one for small talk, and Elliot’s chatter had slowed, leaving an awkward pause. But Elliot, never one to let silence linger, broke it, his voice thoughtful. “Still can’t believe I married a princess, you know? Me, a stable master, waking up to Dimaria every day. Feels like I’m dreaming.”

Levi snorted, his hands in his pockets. “I get it. Never thought I’d marry, period. Then Emperor Armand hands me Solina, the damn Diamond of Valoria, for some rock deal. Thought it’d be a contract. Now…” He trailed off, his gaze distant but warm. “Wouldn’t trade it.”

Elliot nodded, his grin softening. “Yeah. We’re lucky bastards, aren’t we? Commoners, snagging royalty. And the real kind of love, not that court nonsense. Dimaria’s my everything.”

“Solina’s mine,” Levi said, his voice low, the admission rare but honest. “Love like that—it’s worth the mess.”

They walked on, the estate drawing closer, their shared understanding a quiet bond. The night promised more laughter, more stories, and the warmth of family, a reminder that love, in all its forms, was the true heart of their world.

…

The Scout Headquarters stood resolute against the late autumn sky, its stone walls weathered by years of war and resilience, a silent sentinel over Shiganshina’s bustling streets. Inside, the barracks were a maze of shadowed corridors and flickering lanterns, the air heavy with the scent of polished steel and old wood. Mikasa’s quarters, a spartan room with a narrow cot and a worn desk, had been her refuge for weeks, but sleep had eluded her, her nights a tangle of restless thoughts and whispered doubts. Solomon’s proposal echoed relentlessly—his emerald eyes fierce with love, his voice promising a future in Valoria as his wife, defying centuries of tradition. The weight of that choice had pressed against her chest, a storm of longing and fear that kept her tossing beneath thin blankets, her heart torn between the man she loved and the home she’d fought for.

Paradis was her anchor, its scarred hills and stubborn spirit woven into her bones. The Scouts—Armin’s quiet wisdom, Sasha’s laughter, Jean’s teasing, Connie’s pranks, Hange’s chaos, and Eren’s fierce, complicated loyalty—were her family, forged in blood and sacrifice. Leaving them, leaving this island, felt like carving out a piece of herself. Yet Solomon’s love was a tide pulling her forward, a warmth that promised a life she’d never dared dream of. The Valorian tradition of four noble consorts loomed like a specter, a cultural chasm she’d struggled to bridge, but his vow to want only her had chipped away at her doubts. For once, Mikasa wanted to put herself first, to choose the happiness that burned in her chest when she thought of him. But Eren—her greatest heartbreak—cast a shadow she couldn’t ignore. His reluctant acceptance of her relationship would crumble when he learned she was leaving, and the thought of hurting him twisted her gut.

By the flicker of a single candle, Mikasa sat at her desk, her fingers trembling as she gripped a quill. The decision had crystallized in the pre-dawn hours, a quiet certainty that steadied her. She loved Solomon, loved him with a depth that scared her, and she would go to Valoria, law or no law, to be by his side. The words came quickly, her handwriting steady despite the ache in her chest.

“Solomon,” she wrote, the parchment catching the candlelight, “I love you. I’ve spent weeks wrestling with this, but my heart knows where it belongs—with you. I accept your proposal, and I’ll come to Valoria to be your wife. If the law can’t change, I’ll stand by you anyway, because you’re my home. I’m ready to build our life together. Yours, always, Mikasa.”

She sealed the letter with wax, her fingers lingering on the envelope, a small smile breaking through her turmoil. This was her choice, her happiness, and for the first time, she felt the weight of selflessness lift. Paradis would always be part of her, but Solomon was her future. The letter would reach Valoria in days, carried by a swift courier, and she could already imagine his face—those emerald eyes lighting up, his grin wide enough to rival the sun.

But Eren remained, a conversation she couldn’t avoid. Her stomach knotted at the thought, knowing his reaction would be stormy, his protective streak flaring at the idea of her leaving. She needed his blessing, not because she required permission, but because he was family, the boy she’d loved for years, the man who’d shaped her world. Steeling herself, she tucked the letter into her cloak and resolved to find him at first light.

The next morning, the mess hall buzzed with the clatter of tin plates and the low hum of conversation, Scouts gathered around long tables, their green cloaks draped over chairs. The air smelled of oatmeal and weak coffee, a familiar comfort that grounded Mikasa as she stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. Eren sat near the back, his dark hair falling into his green eyes, a half-eaten bowl of porridge before him. He was quieter these days, the fire in him tempered by peace, but his presence still commanded the space, drawing glances from younger recruits. Mikasa’s heart clenched, a mix of love and dread, as she approached.

“Eren,” she said, her voice steady but soft, cutting through the hall’s din. “Can we talk? Outside?”

He looked up, his gaze sharpening, sensing the weight in her tone. “Yeah, sure,” he said, pushing his bowl aside and standing, his movements fluid but tense. The other scouts—Jean, Connie, Sasha—glanced their way, curiosity flickering, but Mikasa ignored them, leading Eren through the hall’s double doors to a quiet courtyard beyond.

The courtyard was a small oasis, its cobblestones dusted with fallen leaves, a lone oak casting dappled shade. The morning air was crisp, the sky a pale blue streaked with clouds, and Mikasa’s cloak fluttered as she turned to face him, her hands clasped to steady herself. Eren stood a few paces away, his arms crossed, his green eyes searching hers. “What’s going on, Mikasa?” he asked, his voice low, a thread of unease beneath his usual bravado. “You look… more serious than usual.”

She took a breath, her resolve firm despite the ache in her chest. “I’ve made a decision, Eren. About Solomon. He asked me to marry him, to go to Valoria permanently. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and… I’m going. I love him, and I want to be with him.”

Eren’s face tightened, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. “You’re leaving? For Valoria? Mikasa, that’s… that’s insane! You’re a soldier, this is your home. You can’t just throw that away for some emperor.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration rising. “It’s not throwing anything away. Solomon’s not just some emperor—he’s the man I love. I’ve spent my life fighting, protecting, putting everyone else first. Putting you first. For once, I’m choosing what makes me happy.”

Eren’s hands dropped, his voice rising, laced with a desperation he couldn’t hide. “Happy? In Valoria? You’ll be a foreigner in a court that’ll chew you up. Their laws—four consorts, Mikasa. You okay sharing him? Because I’m not okay with you throwing your life away for that.”

She stepped closer, her voice steady but sharp. “He doesn’t want consorts. He wants me, only me. He’s fighting to change the law, and even if he can’t, I’ll stand by him. This isn’t about their court—it’s about us. I’m not throwing my life away, Eren. I’m building one.”

His eyes flashed, a mix of anger and something softer, more vulnerable. “What about us? The scouts, Paradis… me? You’re just gonna leave me behind?” He paused, his voice dropping, almost a whisper. “Mikasa, you know how I feel about you. You’ve always been… everything. Don’t do this.”

Her heart stuttered, the words a knife she’d long stopped expecting. For years, she’d loved him, her devotion a quiet fire that burned through every battle, every loss. But he’d never returned it, his focus on freedom, on vengeance, leaving her love unanswered. Now, with Solomon’s ring a promise in her future, Eren’s confession felt like a cruel twist. She straightened, her gaze unwavering, her voice firm but laced with pain.

“Eren, don’t,” she said, cutting him off. “I loved you for years. I waited, hoped, but you never saw me that way—not until I found someone else. Now you’re saying this to guilt me into staying? That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m happy with Solomon. I’m choosing him, with or without your blessing. But you’re my family, Eren. I want your blessing, because I don’t want to lose you.”

His face crumpled, a mix of regret and frustration, his hands clenching at his sides. “Mikasa, I… I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I can’t imagine you gone. You’re my family, too. But Valoria? It’s so far, and he’s… he’s not one of us.”

“He’s mine,” she said, her voice softening, but her resolve unshaken. “And I’m not gone forever. Paradis and Valoria are allies. I’ll visit, you’ll visit. But I need to do this, Eren. For me.”

He looked away, his jaw tight, the weight of her words sinking in. The courtyard was silent, the oak’s leaves rustling faintly, and Mikasa waited, her heart heavy but certain. Finally, Eren met her gaze, his green eyes raw with emotion. “I hate this,” he said, his voice rough. “I hate losing you. But… if he makes you happy, if this is what you want… you’ve got my blessing. Just… don’t forget me.”

Her throat tightened, relief and sorrow mingling as she stepped forward, pulling him into a hug. “I could never forget you,” she whispered, her arms tight around him. “You’re my family, always.”

He hugged her back, his grip fierce, a silent promise to let her go. They stood there, the courtyard a quiet witness to their bond, the pain of parting softened by the love that would endure. As they pulled apart, Mikasa’s smile was small but real, her heart lighter, her path clear. Valoria awaited, and with Solomon by her side, she was ready to face it.

…

A week later, the Imperial Palace of Valoria gleamed under the late autumn sun, its spires piercing a sky streaked with clouds, the marble facades reflecting the golden light like a beacon of enduring power. Within its labyrinthine halls, the air buzzed with the quiet urgency of governance, scribes and couriers darting through corridors, their arms laden with scrolls and ledgers. Solomon had barely paused since his return from Paradis weeks ago, his days a whirlwind of council meetings, trade negotiations, and diplomatic correspondence. The weight of the crown was heavier than he’d imagined, its demands relentless, but he bore it with a fire kindled by ambition and love. His office, a grand chamber of oak paneling and stained-glass windows, was a hub of activity, its long table strewn with maps, decrees, and half-drunk goblets of wine. Yet amidst the chaos, Solomon’s heart remained anchored to one hope: Mikasa’s answer to his proposal, a beacon that kept him steady through the storm of imperial duties.

Empress Dowager Solana, her presence as commanding as ever, stood at his side, her keen eyes scanning a trade proposal from one of their allies. Her crimson hair was swept into an elegant knot, her posture unyielding despite the years, a testament to the Rose Consort who’d shaped an empire alongside her husband. 

Armand, the former emperor, now his top advisor, leaned over a map of Valoria’s southern borders, his weathered hands tracing supply routes, his voice a low rumble as he debated grain tariffs with a councilor. The trio formed a formidable unit, their combined experience guiding Solomon through the labyrinth of rule. 

The royal gardens, once alive with the intrigues of four consorts, now lay silent, their flowerbeds and fountains untended. The four houses—Rose, Lily, Dahlia, Peony—stood empty, their halls cleared of the former consorts and their children. Lady Solana, Soleil, and the twins had moved into the main palace, joining Solomon in the sprawling interior, a shift that marked the end of an era.

The vacant houses were a stark reminder of the tradition Solomon was expected to uphold: an emperor must take four noble consorts, a law etched into Valoria’s history for three centuries. The court’s pressure was mounting, noble families circling like hawks, their daughters presented at every banquet, their ambitions cloaked in flattery. But Solomon’s heart was fixed on Mikasa, a foreign soldier whose bravery, fierceness, and beauty outshone any noble. He wanted her as his wife—his only wife—and he’d rewrite the stars to make it so, even if the law seemed an immovable mountain.

Solomon stood by a window, his red curls catching the light, his eyes distant as he reviewed a decree on fishing rights. The parchment blurred before him, his thoughts drifting to Paradis, to Mikasa’s quiet strength, her rare smiles that unraveled him. He’d left her weeks ago, her request for time a weight he carried, but his faith in her love was unshaken. She was the most incredible woman he’d ever known, her courage forged in battles he could scarcely imagine, her heart a fortress he’d been honored to breach. The council’s murmurs about consorts grated on him, their veiled suggestions a reminder of the fight ahead. Changing a 300-year-old law was a herculean task, especially for a foreigner, but Solomon was emperor. If anyone could bend tradition, it was he, and for Mikasa, he’d face any storm.

A soft knock broke his reverie, and a courier entered, bowing low, a sealed letter in his hand. “From Paradis, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice deferential as he offered the envelope.

Solomon’s heart leapt, his fingers snatching the letter before he could school his expression. The handwriting was unmistakable—Mikasa’s precise, elegant script, the sight of it sending a thrill through him. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing the courier with a nod, his voice steady despite the pulse hammering in his ears. Solana glanced up from her papers, her brow arching, while Armand paused, his sharp eyes noting the shift in his son’s demeanor.

“Something urgent?” Solana asked, her tone light but probing, her maternal instinct catching the spark in his eyes.

“Just… correspondence,” Solomon said, his voice casual, but his hands betrayed him, clutching the letter like a lifeline. He stepped to a corner of the office, the councilors’ murmurs fading as he broke the seal, his breath catching as he unfolded the parchment. The words leapt off the page, each one a spark igniting his heart.

He read it twice, then a third time, a smile spreading across his face, so wide it ached. She loved him. She was coming. She’d chosen him, chosen their future, and the weight of weeks of waiting dissolved in a rush of joy. His chest felt too small for the happiness swelling within, a warmth that banished the chill of council debates and court pressures. Mikasa, his fierce, beautiful Mikasa, was now his fiancée, and nothing—not tradition, not nobles, not a 300-year-old law—could dim that light.

A laugh escaped him, sharp and unguarded, and he spun on his heel, the letter still in hand, his eyes blazing with triumph. Solana was startled, her quill pausing mid-stroke, her expression a mix of amusement and alarm. “Solomon!” she said, her voice rising. “What in the world has you so giddy? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Armand looked up, his bushy brows knitting, while the councilors exchanged perplexed glances, their papers forgotten. Solomon didn’t care, his joy too big to contain. He crossed the room in three strides, enveloping his mother in a fierce hug, his laughter muffled against her shoulder. “She said yes!” he said, pulling back to kiss her cheek, his voice vibrating with excitement. “Mikasa—she’s coming to Valoria. She’s going to be my wife!”

Solana’s eyes widened, a small smile breaking through her surprise as she gripped his arms. “Mikasa? Wait—wife? Oh, my darling, that’s wonderful! But… slow down, what do you mean she’s going to be your wife?”

Armand rose, his expression softening, a rare warmth in his weathered face. “The Ackerman girl? You proposed? To her?” His voice held a note of curiosity and wariness. “That’s no small thing, son. She’s a foreigner.”

“I don’t care,” Solomon said, his grin undimmed as he waved the letter. “She loves me, Father. She’s ready to face the court, the law, all of it. I’ve got to get a ring—something perfect for her. I’m going now!”

“Now?” Solana said, her nervous laughter bubbling up as she caught his sleeve. “Solomon, you’re in the middle of a council meeting! The jewelers can wait an hour, and we need to talk about this.”

“I can’t wait.” he said, already halfway to the door, his red curls bouncing with his stride. “She’s my fiancée, Mother! I’m not wasting a second!”

The councilors gaped, one muttering about protocol, another stifling a chuckle. Armand shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Let him go, Solana. He’s got your passion and my stubbornness.”

Solomon paused at the door, turning to flash a grin at his parents. “You’ll love her, both of you. She’s… she’s incredible. I’ll be back—eventually!” With that, he dashed out, his boots echoing down the marble corridor, leaving a wake of startled scribes and bemused guards.

Solana sank back into her chair, her hand on her heart, her laughter mingling with exasperation. “That boy,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s going to turn the court upside down for her, isn’t he?”

Armand settled beside her, his hand resting on hers, his voice low. “He will. And if she’s half as fierce as he says, she’ll handle it.”

The office settled into a quieter hum, the councilors resuming their work, but the air was lighter, touched by Solomon’s joy. Outside, the royal gardens waited, their empty houses a silent challenge to the future he envisioned—a future where Mikasa, not tradition, would stand as his heart’s throne.

~

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[littlemissf0x]

Hi! I know I'm not a regular, but I'm here for your WIP game. Would you share more about "Past the Oak Tree?" It sounds interesting.

Hiya!

Being a regular or not doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’ve chosen to interact!

Past the Oak Tree was written inspired by another short fic. (Unfortunately, I can’t find it.) Levi, a rather successful yet lonely Marleyan resides close to the Liberio Interment Zone walls. He finds himself on the other side after an accidental skirmish in the night.

There, he meets Hange Zoe, an Eldian dreaming of a life past these walls. Cautious at first, he soon finds himself warming up to her and shedding Marley’s bigoted Eldian agenda—a very risky decision.

~💜🌳💚~

Levi prepared his suit, opting for his usual blue color, entering the building for his interview. It had been a few hours, but by the end of it, Levi had a smug grin on his face and walked a bit slower that day, glad to immediately get the job.

His skills were valuable. Or, so they told him. It was a good day, and Levi couldn’t help but notice the growing number of ice cream stands lining the street. These were somewhat uncommon on Sundays, and a small part of him wanted a taste.

He pushed on, stepping into a secluded, thin street. The Internment Zone stood on one side, his building on the other. The Oak Tree stood in silence, its overgrown trunk split and spanning both sides of the wall. Its roots splayed out, relatively easy to climb (he should know) and snaking between the decorative bushes.

It’s leaves rustled, yet there was no wind.

Levi craned his neck.

There that damned brown mop of hair was, accompanied by the shine of round spectacles. She sat atop the wall, side leaned up against the tree.

He looked around and scoffed at the absurdity.

“Heeeeey,” she greeted. “How did that interview go?”

“Keep your voice down,” he snapped. “It went well.”

“That’s nice. Hey.. could you do me a favor?”

“No. I don’t do favors.”

“Please? It’ll only be a second.” A bit of shuffling and Hange pulled a basket from behind her.

“What’s that for? A bomb?”

Hange snorted. She secured a rope to the handle and leaned over, carefully dropping her basket down the length of the wall. Inside was a few dollars. Levi glanced inside.

“What’s that for?”

“Ice cream. We don’t get that here in the internment zone, and it’s been years since I’ve gotten my hands on any.”

“You want me to smuggle ice cream?” He rose a brow skeptically.

“Smuggle? Pffft. All you need to do is take the money and set the ice cream in the basket. It’s just ice cream.”

“And if I take it?”

“Please don’t. It’s not even a significant amount of cash.”

“Not enough to count labor costs. I have to go all the way back and get one.”

“It’s literally just a few paces away.”

“You’re and Eldian. There’s a reason you don’t get ice cream.”

“Seriously? That’s stupid,” she huffed.

“Too bad. My answer is no.”

“Levi, please. This is my first chance in a while.”

He bristled at his name. “Too bad. Read my lips, Devil.”

“How’s giving this Devil a bit of ice cream going to end the world? Seriously.”

Point is that you’re not allowed to be comfortable. If you have ice cream every day, that would make you happy.”

“That’s the stupidest reasoning I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s what I was told.”

“Honestly, what’s the point of gate-keeping ice cream of all things? It’s like the Marleyans are running out of things to keep from us.”

“That’s just how it is, Hange.”

“Even after I retrieved that suitcase for you? I'm the reason you even got to go to the interview!”

“And? Does that make me indebted to an Eldian?”

“Yes, actually. And it’s a teeny, tiny favor that you don’t even need to spend money on.”

“Like I said. Labor.”

“Ugh..” Hange considered. “Fine. An extra three.”

“What would I need from an extra three?”

“What, you want twenty bucks? It’s short walk. I’m not going to pay an exorbitant amount.”

“I’m not interested in your cash.”

“Please. I won’t bother you about it again.”

“I’m not interested..”

“Come on..”

“You’re not making it any easier.”

“It’s only ice cream. Hell, if I had the recipe I could make it myself.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“And you’d do it for anyone else, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on the person.”

“You seriously think I don’t deserve something sweet because of the order of my amino acids?”

“Exactly.”

“You clearly like hearing me beg if you’ve been around for this long.”

“I’m trying to see if you have anything else to say.”

“I’m going to keep asking.”

“Take it back up or else someone’ll steal it.”

“I need that ice cream!” She stressed.

“Oh, so it’s a need now?”

“I barely remember the taste of it.”

“You’ll live.”

“Levi. Please,” she begged, exasperated.

His eyes narrowed.

“All I want is a taste. It’s all I ask. I wouldn’t say you’re obligated but I've done a lot for you.”

“Yo’re right, I’m not obligated, and you hardly helped me.”

“Hardly? Without thar suitcase you’d be sitting at home without an interview. Hell, if I left you your head would’ve kept bleeding. Someone else could’ve found you.”

“Tch...” he eyed the basket.

“It’s been a long day and all I want is something sweet. You’d seriously withhold that from me?”

“What even is your job?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Hange...”

“I’m sure you could sympathize. Hell, even chocolate is hard enough to get in here.” At this point, she was becoming desperate. “I’m tired. It’s all I want.”

Levi glanced cautiously behind him, then back up at her. “I can’t just...”

“If someone’s seen us by now then we’d know.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Breaking the law? Please.”

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?”

“How else do you want me to act?”

“Anything could land you in a worse prison.”

“I just want a sweet treat. That’s it. Screw the law.”

He almost admired her persistence... “You owe me big time, devil.” Levi snatched the money and promptly turned around.

~💜🌳💚~

This was co-written! Unfortunately, I can’t tag her since she doesn’t have a Tumblr account.

Otherwise, this was written in roleplay format. I looked through this older excerpt and made some edits for easier reading. It’s dialogue-heavy for a reason, and I couldn’t bring myself to omit anything. Otherwise, it wouldn’t feel natural.

The title references the Oak Tree growing atop the wall. It allows them to cross over whenever they wish to meet.

I’m a sucker for a good forbidden lovers trope.

Thanks for the ask!

[littlechick1]

Eremika Rekindled Heart AU – Family Reunion

Happy reading <3 ---

The private jet descended smoothly onto the pristine tarmac of Paradis International Airport, its sleek, obsidian-black frame gleaming under the golden hue of the setting sun. After eleven years, Eren Yeager had returned. Not as the reckless teenager who left, but as a man—a seasoned engineer in the aeronautics industry, a self-made billionaire, and the founder of Yeager Dynamics, a company whose reach spanned continents.

Waiting near the aircraft stood Armin Arlert, his closest friend and now his trusted secretary. Armin wore a neat tan suit, his expression calm and professional as he watched Eren descend the jet’s narrow stairs. They exchanged a silent nod before a quiet smile spread across Armin’s face.

"Welcome home," Armin said.

"Thanks. I almost forgot how the air smells here," Eren muttered, taking in the familiar scent of the ocean breeze mixed with city smog.

They drove straight to the penthouse—Eren’s new home, situated on the top floor of Yeager Tower, the tallest building in the heart of the capital. It was designed with sharp, masculine architecture, filled with rich tones of charcoal and matte bronze, sleek furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a full panoramic view of Paradis’ skyline.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in amber and lilac, Eren stood near the glass wall, nursing a cup of coffee when a discreet knock came at the door.

A young maid stepped in and bowed politely. "Sir, there’s someone here to see you. It’s your mother."

Eren’s eyes softened. "Let her in."

Carla Yeager stepped inside, a smile already tugging at her lips before Eren enveloped her in a rare, warm hug.

"I’m so proud of you, Eren," she whispered against his shoulder. "I heard you’re going to build a mega factory here for aviation parts."

They settled in front of the wide window, sipping coffee and tea prepared by the same young maid, who offered a polite smile and left them alone after a quick exchange of glances with Eren—one he clearly ignored.

"She’s beautiful," Carla commented, watching the maid’s back as she exited.

"Armin hired her. I trust him with everything," Eren replied after a sip of his coffee.

"Does she stay overnight?"

"No. She leaves at 7 PM and returns at 6 AM."

Carla nodded, thoughtful. "So… about that mega factory. I heard some wealthy Marleyan noble is interested?"

Eren let out a low hum. "Yes. Tybur Holdings. They’re offering more than just an investment—they’re trying to offer their daughter as well."

Carla’s eyes widened, half-excited. "So I’m getting another daughter-in-law soon?"

Eren chuckled and shook his head. "No, Mom. I think they’ll get the message soon enough. I’m not interested."

Carla sighed, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "What about… the Ackermans?"

There was a slight pause. "I ran into Levi a few days ago in Marley," Eren said, standing and walking toward the glass. "Judging by the way he looked at me, I think he’d rather see me dead than sign a contract. Besides, we already have global investors."

“Wow That’s good news, dear!” Carla hesitated for a moment, then moved closer, her voice softer. "Talking about Ackerman... You know… while you were away, I was terribly lonely. Thank goodness my dear Mikasa was around. She always visit me often—."

Eren turned slightly, raising a brow. "Mikasa? How is that kid, anyway?"

Carla chuckled, sipping her tea. "Oh Eren, she’s not a kid anymore. She’s twenty-four now, finishing her Master’s in Social Development. I swear, if you saw her now, you’d be completely taken by her. She’s grown into a beautiful, brilliant young woman."

Eren scoffed lightly, waving her off. "That’s ridiculous. I could never fall for Mikasa. She’s… she’s like a little sister."

Carla only smiled knowingly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You’ve done well for yourself," she murmured. "Your father and I—especially your father—we’re proud of you."

Eren snorted, clearly unconvinced.

"He is, Eren," Carla pressed. "He even wants to hold a family dinner for tomorow. Zeke, his wife, their daughter… He wants you there too. You can’t keep avoiding your family forever. It won’t bring you peace. Not truly."

Her words echoed in Eren’s mind later that night, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He tossed the sheets aside and made his way to the kitchen, thirsty.

There... under the dim lights, stood the ginger-haired maid—Carly. She still wore the same uniform, but the top buttons were deliberately undone, revealing a seductive neckline. Her red lips curled into a slow smile as she approached.

"Mr. Yeager… you looked lonely. I could keep you company tonight, if you’d like…"

She was close. Too close.

Eren’s voice was cold. "Has Mr. Arlert not informed you of the rules? You’re not permitted to linger past your hours."

"Forgive me, sir, but… I couldn’t help myself. You seem like someone who needs comfort."

He stared at her for a beat, then turned away.

"You’re fired."

Carly froze, mouth slightly parted in disbelief as Eren walked back to his bedroom without another word.

As he climbed into bed again, he muttered under his breath, "I need to talk to Armin about hiring women twice her age."

A soft chime alerted him to a new message. It was from Carla:

 “Don’t forget about tomorrow, okay dear? You better be there :)"

He stared at the message for a long time.

He had come back for business, but the past was already waiting—breathing down his neck like a forgotten ghost.

And somewhere in that ghost lived the memory of a girl with obsidian eyes and a heart that never stopped waiting.

---

Eren took a deep breath as the grand doors of the Yeager estate swung open. The familiar scent of polished wood and fresh flowers hit him immediately—it hadn’t changed in eleven years. His footsteps echoed across the glossy marble floor as he entered the lobby, where family portraits lined the walls like relics of a bygone era.

His eyes fell on a photo taken when he was just thirteen. There he was, smiling awkwardly with a mop of unruly hair. Beside him stood Zeke, still in his high school uniform, clean-shaven and lanky. In front of them, seated in elegant armchairs, were Grisha and Carla, their postures straight, their expressions soft.

Eren lingered on that photo for a moment longer, a lump forming in his throat. Then his gaze moved to a more recent portrait. It showed the current Yeager family: Zeke standing tall and proud, his arm around Frieda Reiss, Grisha and Carla seated Infront them, smiling warmly, and in their lap sat little Zofia, their five-year-old Grandaughter. Eren, however, was noticeably absent.

Before he could dwell on that emptiness, he heard the familiar voices approaching. Carla was the first to appear, her smile wide and eyes teary. Zeke followed with Frieda beside him, and between them, Zofia ran ahead and jumped into Eren’s arms with a happy squeal. Despite her young age, was no stranger to the man who now towered in front of her. In Marley, Eren had lived only a few blocks away from zeke’s house, and every Sunday without fail, he would visit with chocolate sticks and tiny storybooks.

"Uncle Eren!"

He laughed softly, catching her with ease and spinning her gently. "Hey, little star. Missed me already?"

Carla came forward, her hand stroking his arm. "Thank you for coming home, my dear."

Zeke stepped in and patted his younger brother’s shoulder. "This was the right decision, Eren. Coming home."

Eren simply nodded, his eyes flicking toward the hallway beyond. And then, from the shadows, emerged the one person he had been dreading.

Grisha Yeager.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Grisha stepped closer, his expression unreadable. Everyone glanced nervously between father and son, as if expecting a powder keg to ignite at any moment.

---

Later, Eren found himself in his father’s study. The scent of old books, ink, and leather filled the air. Grisha sat behind the heavy mahogany desk, while Eren stood, his hands shoved into his pockets.

The silence stretched between them until Grisha finally spoke. "So, you finally swallowed your pride and came back."

Eren narrowed his eyes. "I wasn’t being prideful. But you—"

Grisha cut him off with a sharp look. "Still so headstrong. I always wondered how someone like you could become so successful."

Eren let out a low laugh, the sound laced with bitterness. "Believe me, I worked for everything I have. But I won't deny it—the name Yeager carried weight. People trusted me, invested in me, because of it. Whether I liked it or not, your reputation helped open some doors."

Grisha’s brows lifted, slightly impressed.

"So, you finally understand the value of legacy," he murmured.

He leaned back in his chair, eyeing his son with a different kind of scrutiny. "I won't say I felt guilty when you left, though I did worry. But seeing you now... knowing you've built something out of passion, with your own hands, it puts me at ease. You always wanted to be a machine doctor, not a people doctor. I never really understood it, but I respect it and proud of you"

Eren looked up, his breath catching slightly. Grisha... proud of him?

Grisha offered the faintest smile. "Why couldn't you look at me like that before? Always staring at the ground or shouting back. Now you're finally facing me. Like a man."

He stood, walked over, and gave Eren a firm pat on the shoulder. Then, without another word, he exited the study.

Eren stood there, staring at the door. He had braced himself for a confrontation, an argument, a repeat of the pain that drove him away.

But what he got instead was peace.

And maybe, just maybe, a second chance.

---

[alizha]

ｔｈｅ "ｓｔｕｆｆ" | 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷

⁀➷ 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗓𝖾𝗄𝖾 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗎

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟤.𝟪𝗄

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌: 𝖿/𝗆, 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗁𝖾/𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋!𝗓𝖾𝗄𝖾, 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇-𝗒, 𝗇𝗈 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗁.

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖥𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖹𝖾𝗄𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝖾𝗀𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖹𝖾𝗄𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗒����𝗎. (𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗐𝗌)

A/N: I'm not gonna lie, Zeke is the one character I keep coming back to despite how massively unpopular he seems to be in the fandom. Instead of writing one (1) final chapter for my Levi fic, I went and wrote 5 whole chapters of this (tbf I started writing the outline/draft for this back in august). So, they're done and will be posted weekly as I edit them. At least I can say it was very a very cathartic end to the semester. Sorry for anyone hoping for an update to fixer :')

table of contents | masterlist | cross posted to ao3 next chapter →

In a move that has rocked the baseball world to its core, Eren Jaeger, one of the brightest stars of the Paradis Titans, has announced his signing with the Marley Warriors in a shocking offseason deal. The news, which broke late last night, has left fans and analysts scrambling for answers as the Titans standout leaves behind his beloved team in what is being called one of the most surprising player transfers in recent memory.

Jaeger, who made his debut with the Titans at just 19 years old, has been a cornerstone of the team’s lineup for the last three seasons. His electrifying performances, combined with his magnetic presence on the field, quickly made him a fan favorite and one of the league’s top players. The Paradis Titans, led by head coach Erwin Smith, are known for their unyielding drive and dedication, but Jaeger’s departure has raised serious questions about the team’s future.

According to multiple sources close to the situation, the deal with the Warriors was struck after months of behind-the-scenes negotiations, with Marley’s front office promising Jaeger a more prominent role on their roster and an opportunity to work closely with their head coach, Theo Magath. The Warriors, long seen as a powerhouse with a history of aggressive moves in the offseason, have clearly made a statement with this high-profile acquisition.

The Warriors’ PR department confirmed the signing earlier today, with both the team and Jaeger offering brief statements.

“I’m excited to join the Marley Warriors,” Jaeger said. “It’s a new chapter, and I’m looking forward to contributing to a team that has an incredible opportunity ahead of them.”

The response from the Paradis Titans has been noticeably muted, with head coach Erwin Smith stating that he respected Jaeger’s decision but would be focusing on preparing his team for the upcoming season. “While we’re disappointed to see Eren go, we wish him nothing but success,” Smith said in a short comment delivered through the Titans’ social media channels.

Jaeger’s decision to leave Paradis has shocked fans and experts alike, with many unable to fathom why the star player, who had become the face of the franchise, would leave the Titans for a team with such a complicated history. The Warriors, known for their brash and sometimes controversial style, have had a reputation for cutting ties with players when it suits their interests—most recently evidenced by their handling of Zeke Jaeger, Eren’s older brother, whose rocky relationship with the press has often overshadowed the team’s other successes.

Some insiders are speculating that Jaeger’s signing could lead to a shift in the team’s dynamic, with Jaeger potentially filling a new leadership role alongside seasoned players like Reiner Braun and Zeke Jaeger. In an even more unexpected twist, sources confirm that the Warriors are looking to establish a renewed rivalry with the Titans in the upcoming season, with Eren Jaeger’s departure serving as the catalyst for what could become one of the most heated and dramatic storylines of the year.

With the opening game of the season fast approaching, all eyes will be on Eren Jaeger. Will he rise to the occasion and lead the Warriors to victory? Whether you see it as a betrayal, a fresh start, or a calculated career move, one thing is for sure: Eren Jaeger’s future with the Warriors will be anything but predictable.

Stay tuned for further updates as we continue to track this developing story.

The air still held the crisp bite of winter, but the Florida sun had burned away any excuse for a jacket. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, standing just outside the gated entrance of the Marleyan Warriors’ spring training complex. Players had started trickling in for early workouts, slipping through the back entrance in their team-issued gear. Some wore sunglasses, others sported headphones, pretending not to see the press.

But you weren’t here for them. You were here for Zeke Jaeger.

The first time you wrote about Zeke, you’d been a junior in college. Just a wide-eyed intern trying to carve out your space in sports journalism. Back then, no one believed Zeke had what it took to make it in the major leagues. The Warriors had taken a chance on him late in the draft, drawn to the sheer velocity of his pitches but skeptical of his unorthodox style. Everyone whispered about him, his lack of discipline, his tendency to overthink his game.

Thing was, though, Zeke Jaeger had the stuff. That was what they said when he started mowing down batters, making the impossible look easy. His slider broke at angles that defied logic. His fastball spun in ways that made hitters hesitate just a half-second too long. And soon, he wasn’t just a gamble; he was the ace.

Then, just as quickly, he was gone.

A cryptic injury. No public statements. No press conferences. Just the slow fade of his name from the conversation, replaced by his younger brother: the phenomenon, Eren Jaeger.

You tapped your pen against your chin, glancing at the clock on your phone. Gossip was not what you were after. The polite, scripted quotes the team’s PR rep would try to feed you did not interest you either. You wanted the real story, the one no one was paying attention to.

You wanted to know if Zeke Jaeger still had the stuff.

And more than that, you wanted to know if he even cared anymore.

The gate creaked open, and there he was. Zeke walked with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. The beard was gone—only a light scruff remained. And he moved with the casual ease of someone who had nothing to prove.

Except, you knew better. You took a step forward, notebook at the ready, and called his name.

“Can I ask you a few questions?”

Zeke slowed, lifting a brow. “I think you’ve got the wrong brother, Berg.”

He gave you the run-around, just as your editor said he would. But it wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it. At least, he had been nice enough to point out the old number you had for him was no longer in service before running off.

One bright spot was that you still had the contact information for Zeke’s longtime personal assistant.

Yelena agreed to meet almost immediately, which meant one of two things: either she thought you weren’t worth the trouble of ignoring, or she wanted to shut this down before it started.

You arrived at the café a few minutes early. It was one of those places where the baristas wore starched white aprons and every bean variety had an origin story more dramatic than some relationships. As you stepped inside, you were hit with the sharp scent of citrus peel and the earthiness of roasting coffee.

Yelena was already there, of course, seated at a small round table by the window. She was tall, always taller than you remembered, and exuded the quiet menace of someone who never minced words. In front of her sat an espresso, served in the traditional manner in a demitasse cup, set beside a small metal spoon and a side of cold sparkling water in a tiny clear glass.

You took the seat across from her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

She took an unhurried sip of her espresso. “I was curious to see how persistent you were going to be.”

“And?”

Yelena swirled the liquid inside her cup. “I assume you want to talk to Zeke.”

“I assume you already knew that.”

“I also assume you know that’s not going to happen.”

“Oh, Yelena,” you said, folding your hands together on the table in front of you. “You know, you only ever get this defensive when I’ve got a shot.”

The other woman leaned back, annoyance twitching her upper lip. “Look, just because you wrote some favorable things about him when he first started doesn’t mean he owes you anything now. He doesn’t care what people say anymore.”

You raised a brow. “Then, why’d he run when I tried to talk to him?”

Yelena made a sharp noise with her teeth. “You’re wasting your time. Go write about Eren. He’s the story people want.”

“That’s not how I work,” you said.

She downed the rest of her espresso in one smooth motion and began to stand. “You’ve got a week down here, right? I suggest you enjoy the sun,” she said. Then, adjusting the cuffs of her suit jacket, she added, “If I were you, I wouldn’t bother waiting outside the stadium again.”

You watched her go, then glanced down at your hands with a sigh.

Time for some more roundabout methods.

Historia Reiss was the young, ambitious new heiress of the Titans—small in stature, surprising cutthroat in business, and a personal friend. As it was, she just so happened to be seeing someone on the Warriors’ staff: the team’s PR lead, Ymir.

Ymir, as it turned out, was less of a defensive wall than Yelena. The connection was more straightforward than you anticipated, mostly because Ymir had her own complicated relationship with Zeke. But then again, who didn’t?

“Zeke’s been laying low,” Ymir had told you with a dismissive tone. “But I know where he’ll be tonight. He had a reservation booked at the Rainforest Café outside Fort Lauderdale.”

You blinked at the wall of your hotel room. “What? Rainforest Café? Who the hell books a reservation there?”

“Zeke does. If you want to talk to him, that’s where he’ll be.”

There was a small anecdote that you had included in your profile on Zeke Jaeger back when he was still a rookie, a fun detail that had fascinated you because of how strange and unexpected it was.

Apparently, he loved arcade claw machines and had once spent thirty bucks trying to win a stuffed monkey. He purported to have a “system” for the claw and claimed it was about angles and patience, not luck. You had rolled your eyes so hard, he made a quip about them falling out of your face.

But the detail never stuck in the public consciousness because it didn’t fit the myth.

Point being, you shouldn’t have been surprised; Zeke Jaeger was a weirdo.

The tip was good. Less than an hour later, you found yourself walking toward the unmistakable jungle-themed restaurant, the sounds of animatronic fauna echoing from within. You approached the hostess, who confirmed that a Z. Jaeger had indeed reserved a table.

As you entered, senses assaulted by the faux jungle atmosphere, you spotted him immediately, sitting alone in a booth near the back next to a display of moving apes. His back was to you, but the figure was unmistakable, with his pale, scruffy hair and broad shoulders contained within a cream linen blazer.

You approached him and leaned over the edge of the booth. “This is really fucking sad, Zeke.”

He startled just a little, and looked up. “Guess I just like the kitsch.”

“Is that so?” You slid into the seat across from him and glanced pointedly at the gorilla figure grunting nearby. “Here I thought you were looking for company that didn’t like to ask a lot of questions.”

“Look, Berg,” Zeke sighed, leaning forward. “There’s no story here. Eren told me ahead of time he was leaving the Titans, signing to the Warriors. I approved, not that it matters. We play different positions, so there’s no hard feelings. That’s all there is to it.”

You flicked open your notebook. “Can I quote you on that?”

“You can quote me on whatever you want,” he said apathetically. He was not going to make this easy, but you were used to that by now. “My kid brother’s got talent. He’s got heart. You should know. I seem to recall you were a Titans fan.”

Prodding him too hard would only make him retreat back into his shell. You tried shifting the tone. “Well, maybe so. I’m a Paradis girl at heart. But you were always my favorite player, Zeke.”

He snorted, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s funny. You really care about a little reporter crush?”

“Who said anything about a crush?” you scoffed. “Anyway, maybe I don’t want to talk about Eren. You can’t sidestep me just by throwing his name around a few times.”

“Ah, but Eren is inextricably tied into all of it, isn’t he?” he said, just as the server stepped up to the table.

She was very clearly a part-timer, probably attending college nearby. Her voice was upbeat as she asked for your drink orders.

“An island daiquiri,” Zeke said without hesitation.

“Sure! Which flavor? Strawberry’s popular.”

“God, no! I’d rather die,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll take piña colada.”

The server blinked. “Piña colada it is. And for you?” she said, turning to you.

“Just water,” you said, trying to spare the poor girl any more theatrics.

The server walked off with a faintly bewildered look on her face. Typical Zeke Jaeger. Charming, but just off-putting enough to give anyone who was unsuspecting whiplash.

“So, you were saying?”

“Was I saying something?” Zeke said, leaning back in his booth.

You tapped your pen rapidly against the notebook, but you couldn’t let your impatience take over. He was being evasive. There was more to the story about his relationship with Eren, but to your knowledge, the two had never been very close. Besides, you couldn’t see what that had anything to do with Zeke’s injury.

That was a sore spot. You knew full well to steer clear of that topic unless he brought it up himself. It was clear the physical recovery had been grueling, but the emotional part of it was harder to gauge. You didn’t need to ask, not yet.

“Hey, Zeke, I’m not trying to sensationalize anything, okay?”

“This isn’t some big comeback story,” he said, blurting it out softly like he’d been waiting for an opportunity to say it. “I’m not some washed-up player who’s trying to resurrect his career.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said, holding up your hands placatingly. “I know that. I do.”

“Then, you know, maybe it’s your cue to go,” he said coldly. “Leave me to my gorillas.”

You swallowed. “Just one more thing.”

Zeke groaned, tilting his head back against the booth like he was searching the fake jungle canopy for patience. “God, Berg, you are relentless.”

“Colt Grice,” you said, taking that as permission. “He did well filling in for you. Some people are saying he’s shaping up to be the next ace. Any thoughts?”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he might brush your question off. But then, he sighed and relented. “Colt’s good. He’s got a strong arm, good command. If the Warriors are smart, they’ll take care of him.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Now, go on. Write your little piece.”

You stood up and slid out of the booth just as the server came back with Zeke’s daiquiri and a glass of water in hand. She stared as you cleared your throat and gathered your notebook.

“Appreciate the time, Jaeger.”

The business center of your hotel was one of the more flamboyant you’d ever worked in. It was modern in the ostentatious way—glass walls, sleek ergonomic chairs that looked stylish but were somehow incredibly uncomfortable, and a giant, overpriced espresso machine that you had no idea how to use. A massive abstract painting loomed behind the printer, something that might have been meant to evoke waves but instead looked like an ink spill from hell.

You had been working on a short piece from the scraps Zeke deigned to throw you when your attention was diverted by one of your usual search engine rabbit holes. The subject of tonight’s fixation was Zeke’s closest associate in the Warriors club: Pieck Finger.

She was a bench coach, the team’s lead strategist. If Zeke Jaeger was an enigma, Pieck was a whole ass locked vault. She’d been a rising star in coaching circles for years, and there had been speculation—there was always speculation—that she and Zeke were an item.

The rumors never amounted to anything. Pieck was too wry, too knowing, always slipping through the questions like water. You found an old article on Pieck’s playing days; she was an infield utility player, smart, adaptable, never a superstar but respected for her astuteness.

It made sense that she’d transitioned into coaching. Most people credited her with salvaging the Warriors after Zeke’s injury. If anyone knew what was really going on inside his head, it was her.

Your phone buzzed.

You stared at the message for a long moment before the contact card followed and huffed out a laugh. So, he wanted you to have it now? After all that? He was a mercurial bastard.

Saving the number, you shoved your phone aside and pulled up your draft again.

Zeke Jaeger isn’t interested in a comeback story.

The former ace of the Marleyan Warriors has made it clear: his return isn’t about proving anything, and it certainly isn’t about sparking sibling rivalry with his newly signed teammate, Eren Jaeger. If you ask him, it’s business as usual.

And yet, all the pieces are there. Jaeger, once the undisputed star of the Warriors, sat out the majority of last season due to an injury that many feared would end his career. His absence left a void; one quickly filled by Colt Grice. When asked about Grice’s performance, Jaeger was brief: “Colt’s good. He’s got a strong arm, good command. If the Warriors are smart, they’ll take care of him.”

Short and sweet and carefully noncommittal.

But let’s not pretend the return of Zeke Jaeger isn’t a story. The Warriors’ rotation looks different now. His younger brother, Eren Jaeger, has joined the team. The dynamic between them remains a question mark. The leadership? A puzzle.

One thing is certain, though: Zeke Jaeger’s return may not be the story everyone’s talking about. But perhaps, it should be.

A/N: This is pretty lighthearted all things considered for an aot fic. Of course, Zeke doesn't come out unscathed; poor guy can't survive my writing without a bit of suffering. But I just wanted to claw my way out of the depths of longfic outlining to give write him in some not-so-life-or-death situations. (Credit to electricalice for the newspaper workskin I used, and CodenameCarrot/La_Temperanza for the iOS workskin).

table of contents | masterlist | cross posted to ao3 next chapter →

[darkmuse112-og]

A Soldier's Requiem - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - A Letter from Across the Sea

Three years after the defeat of the Titans, Levi Ackerman, now settled comfortably in a slowly recovering Marley, tries to move on with his life. Grieving the loss of his friends and suffering chronic pain from the injuries he sustained during The Battle of Heaven and Earth, Levi has tried everything to find relief. No amount of exercise or alcohol has ever been sufficient to ease the agony his mind and body puts him through daily. Even Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon's presence can't distract him long enough to keep him from going to a dark place. And now he's being followed by some random suits who, he's pretty sure, want him for less-than-righteous reasons.

When Mikasa comes to visit, she learns of the remedy that causes Levi's life to spiral. Saving Humanity's Strongest from his own demise is the last thing she'd expected when she planned her trip to Marley, but she's unwilling to give up on him. With the help of Levi's next-door neighbor, she does everything possible to bring him back to life. Eventually, Mikasa's association with Levi and their shared ancestry puts the target on her back too, and it lands them both in a situation where they must fight, not just for their freedom but their very lives.

[nelapanela94]

Nelaaaa!!! BB TODAY I AM HERE FOR SOME NELA X LEVI HEADCANONSJDJD .. tell me the little stufff toooooooo 🤍

Hi lovely. This one was so fun to write. <3 thank you for the request and please let me live in my delulu world 🌎

Levi and I currently live in Marley (What's left) in a coastal town where the streets finish at the beach.

Levi, though he doesn't admit it, is still afraid of the elevator. He just can't trust it. It jars him when it quivers right before stopping, and he hates it's tight and stuffy. He prefers swallowing the pain in his leg to risking getting stuck and climbs the stairs up to the third floor. And it is worse when the chains start to screech pleading for maintenance. In his defense, he claims it is a great exercise. He takes his time and says hi to the brats who live in the second floor. Sometimes he brings them desserts from the tea shop.

Levi loves sea food, specially shrimps. That is why I took some cooking classes with Niccolo. Steamed, stir-fried, tempura, in pastas, salads, rice and ceviche, I had to learn every preparation. Though we usually eat at home, we love trying new restaurants in town. From fancy to fast food. Once I tried to cajole Levi to a street food stall but he refused, questioning their cleaning procedures.

Levi owns a tea shop downtown that has been awarded twice by the city's chamber of commerce for excellence, quality and service. He was interviewed and his photo appeared in the newspaper, with Gabi and Falco thumbing up behind him. We still have the clippings of the articles, and Levi had the stars framed. He spends all day drinking tea, doing accounts, making payments to suppliers, bossing everyone around, the latter his favorite. When he loses his patience, he jabs the staff with his walking stick on the back of their knees. He also likes to go on Sundays to the spice market where herbs and spices from all corners of the world are found. He takes them home and experiments with them to develop new blends. Although sometimes we have purged by accident.

Meanwhile, I work at the post office right across the street and in my break time we had lunch together in his office and take naps.

We spend hours in the cleaning supplies aisle because Levi can't decide between lavender, cinnamon and apple or citronella. In any case, he decides on all three. One day after work, he brought home a wooden barrel with a crank handle. He explained that it was for washing clothes, although it took me a while to understand how it was operated. He acquired it at a home novelty fair after the inventor convinced him by promising to make our lives easier. I thought it was a scam, but he made it work! It really saves us time and I don't have to ruin my manicure anymore.

On my last birthday, Levi got me a gramophone. We love dancing in the living room despite our clumsy feet, and we’re often off the beat. But who cares, with a drop of wine sprinkling the mix, we hardly notice it. I’ve been collecting discs from thrift stores and garage sales, cramming our place, so Levi felt compelled to build a box to store them safely.

As you might guess, Levi is little fond of PDA. He only feels confortable holding hands, however, from time to time I’d steal a kiss to tease him. He grunts and mellows right after, blushing like a teenage boy kissing his crush for the first time. In private, on the other hand, he’s embarrassingly clingy (don’t ever mention it). When we’re reading in the sofa, he’d snuggle on my chest and loves it when I drop kisses on his head and coddle him. He loves hugs from the back and unexpected kisses on the cheek. Levi is milk with sugar but needs to keep a reputation.

We love traveling. For our honey moon, we visited a tropical island in hizuru. Roasted on the beach all day. He’s still wary of the sea water, can’t stand the slimy animals brushing his legs. But he enjoyed the scenery, the food, drinks and long loving sexy sessions in our suite with ocean view. We’ve been to other places, even though the voyage makes us seasick. We’ve seen temples, museums, archeological sites, lavender fields, all captured in photo albums.

Levi and I live a slow, tranquil life after the war. I think that we deserve that respite. <3

[cosmicjoke]

Here's an excerpt from my latest chapter of "This Life, After", featuring Levi, Hange and Onyankopon.

1,889 words.

//

He stares down at Levi with the same shock he imagines the rest of them feel at the sight of their Captain.

Levi was more than a man, Onyankopon thought.

He’d seen him lift an anvil when he’d first come to the island.  Lifted it right off of its block like it weighed hardly a thing, holding onto it for long minutes while Hange rearranged the workshop to better suit their needs, until finally telling Levi where to put the block of iron down in its new place.

Levi hadn’t complained once.  Had just stood there like some silent sentinel, face unreadable.

Onyankopon barely knew the man, despite having spent four years in his close proximity.  Levi hardly spoke, and when he did, it was rarely ever to him, his words always blunt and short and to the point. 

Onyankopon had never seen him engage in idle chatter about anything. 

There was only one time, Onyankopon recalled, of them holding a real conversation together.  That night before they’d left Marley, back to the island to prepare.  He recalls the Captain’s plain dismay at the situation, then.  Recalls his naked grief.  Remembers thinking, then, that he understood Hange’s words, about Levi’s good and compassionate nature.

Onyankopon had watched him too, from the airship in Liberio.  Watched him move like some kind of god, zipping through the air at inhuman speeds, hitting his enemies with a power that didn’t seem possible.  Had watched him take down Zeke Yeager’s Beast Titan like it was a joke.  Of course, that had been pre-planned, but still, Onyankopon had heard from Hange how Levi had done so for real, not long before they’d come to the island.  Had sliced the Beast Titan down as easily as a cat would destroy a mouse. 

Hange says he’s a good man.  The best man.  Has told Onyankopon that he shouldn’t let Levi’s mute and seemingly apathetic demeanor fool him.

Hange says he cares more deeply about other people than anyone they’ve ever known.

Onyankopon can hardly believe this is the same man.

Levi lies there now, silent and still but for the harsh, rattling wheeze of his breath, face wrapped in bloody bandages, the red bleeding through the gauze, blooming bright in the center of older, browning spots, despite Hange’s best efforts to sew the wounds closed.

Onyankopon swallows down the sickness churning in his gut as he watches them unwrap the bandages, exposing the horror underneath.

Levi’s face is destroyed. 

Beneath the horrific split running from forehead to chin, bisecting his right eye, Levi’s skin is deathly pale, save for the vicious bruising, stretching from the bridge of his nose, over his eye and down along his cheekbone, swelling painfully evident.  His skin is washed in a thick sweat. 

The damage itself is a terror, bright red with inflammation, seeping droplets of blood through the ugly, black stitchwork.  It must be the work of over 600 stitches, Onyankopon thinks.  He’ll lose his right eye, likely.  At the very least, he’ll be blind there.  The rest of his face is a patchwork of similar, smaller lacerations and wounds, all of them deep enough and wide enough to require the same, crude stitching. 

The index and middle fingers of his right hand are missing, the blood bleeding through the wrapping, the same as his face.

Hange works, cleaning the wounds, changing the bandages.  Onyankopon doesn’t know how Levi is alive. 

He’d taken a direct hit from a thunderspear blast, Hange explained.  It had gone off directly in his face.

It should have killed him.  Even with his strength, it should have. 

Hange thinks he must have reacted somehow.  Turned away, shielded himself just in time to avoid the full brunt of the explosion. 

“His reflexes are good enough,” they’d said. “He would have had to react in hundredths of a second, but his reflexes are good enough.”

Onyankopon holds a closed fist against his mouth as Hange unbuttons Levi’s shirt.  His chest and abdomen are a mess of wretched contusions, covering the entire expanse, leaving barely a sliver of his original skin color behind.  Bruising so deep, it’s pure black, unnaturally red round the edges.  There are a few patches of scorched skin, first and second-degree burns.  Hange treats them the best they can, using some sort of ointment they’ve concocted, gentle as they pat at the burns. 

There are no external wounds beyond that that Onyankopon can see, but he’s not a fool.  Even if Hange hadn’t explained to him that Levi’s insides were torn apart by the blunt force trauma of the blast, he could have guessed at the internal bleeding.  It’s only confirmed by the trickle of blood that seeps from the corner of Levi’s parted, dried lips, colorless like the rest of him. 

Hange dabs at it, and Onyankopon thinks this man is going to die.

Hange presses their ear to Levi’s chest, listening, brow furrowed in concentration, lips pulled into a deep frown, before finally they lift their head, and does Levi’s shirt back up.

“His heartbeat is strong,” they say, pulling the blanket back up to Levi’s chest.

“How is he still alive?” Onyankopon can’t help but ask.  He knows it’s maybe insensitive, but he’s astonished, and horrified.  He can’t imagine the pain Levi is in.

Out here in field as they are, they’ve no access to any sort of pain medication.

Hange shakes their head.

“He’s Levi,” they say, shrugging, like that should explain anything, “he’s strong.”

“Yes, but…” Onyankopon feels that same roiling in his gut, bile at the back of his throat, “he must be in agony.”

Hange nods.

“He is,” they say, so matter of fact, Onyankopon doesn’t know how to respond.

Finally, Hange stands and comes toward him, reaching out and taking him by the elbow, pulling him from the room.

They stand in the narrow passageway of the ship, just the two of them.

Hange is a tall woman, nearly his own height, though Onyankopon knows they don’t really identify as that.  They’ve explained it as having no gender, though they’d never seemed to take offense at being spoken and referred to as a woman, and Onyankopon isn’t one to judge . 

“He’s going to want to fight,” Hange says to him softly, and Onyankopon can’t help the scoff which slips past his teeth.

“He can’t,” he says.

“No… he shouldn’t.  But he will.  You don’t know Levi well.  He won’t allow himself to sit this out, even if he can barely stand.  He’ll find a way.”

“Well, can’t we just stop him?” Onyankopon asks. “Force him to stay behind?”

Again, Hange shakes their head, sighing, pressing a hand to their forehead.

“He won’t accept it.  He’s a stubborn goat.  You don’t know him well.  He’d never forgive himself for letting others fight while he did nothing.”

“But… that’s absurd.  Nobody expects him to fight.  He’s half-dead.”

“He’s more than half-dead,” Hange says, voice heavy and dull, like they’re being crushed beneath the weight of… everything. 

He remembers when he’d first met them.  They’d been so full of life.  So exuberant, eyes bright and filled with wonder. 

He barely recognizes that person in this one.  Hange feels like a husk of who they’d once been.

This damned war.  This damned, stupid fighting.

Onyankopon hates Marley.  He hates them for what they’ve allowed to happen.  For the lives they’ve ruined.  Lives that had never done them any wrong.

“Onyankopon, listen… I need you to promise me something.”

“Of course,” he answers, “whatever it is.”

Hange pulls in a deep breath, letting it go slowly, before looking him in the eye.

“If I don’t make it…”

“Don’t say that,” Onyankopon cuts them off quickly, his face contorting with grief. “Hange, don’t talk like that.”

“If I don’t make it, Onyankopon,” they insist, forging ahead, “I need you to take care of him.”

They gesture back toward the room where Levi remains.

“He needs help,” they continue, ignoring the tears which well, sudden and fast in Onyankopon’s eyes. “I’ve told you before, but…” they shake their head, “please… Levi is a good man.  He’s the best of us, Onyankopon.  I know he doesn’t seem it, and that you don’t know him well, but… you have to know… he’ll give everything and won’t leave a thing left for himself.  He needs someone to help him.”

Hange looks away suddenly, wiping at their face.  Onyankopon sees their hands shaking.

“… I love him, you know?  Not… not like that.  He’s my best friend.  He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

They look back to Onyankopon, tears standing stark in their eyes.

“I wanted to take care of him, after all this.  I thought… if we both somehow made it, I wanted to take care of him.  To give him back even just a little of what he’s given the rest of us,” they shake their head, face lined in grief. “… I was so stupid.  I didn’t think… I never imagined he could be hurt like this.  That he could die.”

They laugh, the sound bitter and angry.

“I should have protected him better.  I should have known he’s human, just like the rest of us.  I got too comfortable, relying on his strength.  We all did.  I was happy to take it from him, even when he needed it for himself.”

Onyankopon reaches out a hand, placing it on their shoulder, squeezing.

“You’re too hard on yourself, my friend,” he says gently.

But Hange only shakes their head again.

“No, I’m not.  All of us are guilty of taking his strength, letting him give it, even to his own detriment.  He’s so strong, and we let that blind us to how much pain he’s always been in.  He’s always carried us.  It’s always been him who’s carried all our dreams on his back.  He’s never… never even believed in this shit.  Never believed in some better future or world.  He did it for us.  He fought because he knew how much that dream meant to us, and he never asked for anything in return.  He never wanted anything from us.  Onyankopon… I need you to take care of him.  He… he’s not going to be the same, after this.  He’ll destroy his body in the coming fight.  He won’t be capable of caring for himself anymore.  Not after this.  And if I don’t make it, who’s… who’s going to help him?  Who’s going to take care of him?  Nobody even understands… they don’t understand how good he is… how hurt he is… and he won’t ask… he never asks for anything…”

Tears course down Hange’s cheeks, and Onyankopon doesn’t think, only pulls them against his chest, arms wrapped tight around their back.

“I will,” he whispers against their ear.

“Promise me, Onyankopon.  Swear to me you’ll stay with him.  No matter how hard it gets.  No matter how hard.  Swear to me you won’t ever leave him.”

“I swear, Hange,” he breathes, “I won’t ever leave him.  I’ll stay with him always.”

“No matter how hard it gets?” Hange presses.

“No matter how hard,” Onyankopon promises, “I’ll take care of him, Hange.  I’ll always take care of him.”

And he feels Hange nod against him, then, their own arms coming around him, holding him tight.

“Thank you, Onyankopon,” they say, “thank you.”

[the-traveling-poet]

Just sitting here thinking about tipsy! Levi. Inspired by this lovely post I came across~

The war had ended a year previously, leaving millions to pick themselves back up from the carnage and reconstruct new lives for themselves amidst the construction of the new world, as the press was calling it.

This led you to a life of, considering your past, ease. You’d moved in with Levi, accompanying him on his self-healing journey and to open his very own tea shop here in Marley; your new home.

Though he preferred black tea, (or green tea, as he’d learn to love after discovering it, thanks to Falco and Gabi once he’s settled in your new home) you’d convinced him to develop a taste for fine Marleian wine.

So here you both sat, enjoying a bottle or three between the both of you. You legs stretched out before you on the grassy embankment you had chosen for your little picnic with your former Captain. Resting your back against the maple tree behind you, you chanced a glance at the weathered veteran at your side. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip, his eyes closed in complete bliss.

The look suited him; a man who’d known nothing but hardship all his life, finally able to relax and unwind.

Suddenly, he caught your eye and smiled. Actually smiled.

“What’s on your mind, Levi?” you’d asked him softly, raising your own glass to your lips.

“You.”

Taken aback, you averted your gaze back to his sacred face and raised a brow, setting your glass down at your hip.

“Me?” you nearly whispered.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “After everything…You’re still here. With me. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my new life. I’m glad you came with me…Work at the cafè with me. Live with me…Stay with me.”

He suddenly grinned, something you’d never seen him do before. The sight caused a hundred butterflies to erupt in your gut. Wether it was the bottle of wine he’d downed all on his own, or his emotions causing this sudden speech, you weren’t sure. But you’d be damned if you questioned it even for a moment.

“I want every day to be like this…With you.” He whispered, leaning in slowly to seal his words, his promise, with a feather light kiss to your lips.

The taste of wine on his own lips and tongue was hardly enough to deter you from responding immediately, enveloping him in all of your love.

“I’m not going anywhere Levi. Not now, not ever.”

Tag list: @21aurora

If you want on the tag list for drabbles headcannons and one-shots, just DM me~

And don’t worry, I’m still working on the requests in my inbox 🤎🤎

[elmundodeflor]

This wasn't supposed to happen, he tells himself. He shouldn't be doing this, he repeats, — and it seems like it's the tenth time he's said that ever since they've left the house.

It was Connie the one who had shrunk half of the Ambassadors' suit-uniforms, anyways. Why couldn’t he be here, then, instead of him? All he wanted was to spend his day off lazing in bed. Maybe, even revisit his long-forgotten sketch-book for a new draw.

But not this.

"I was covering up for your hangover ass!", Connie had said, in his own defense. And it was true. Back in headquarters, they had equally divided the list of chores between all of them. Armin cooked on Mondays, Reiner made the beds on Tuesdays and he did the laundry on Wednesdays.

Still, it wasn't his fault that Pieck's pair of trousers looked like those of a toddler's. At least, not directly.

"Jean.", she calls him out of his train of thought. There's a suit pastel yellow dangling from the hanger between her hands. It's bundled up with a white shirt and a matching pair of pants, all too colorful to use at any diplomatic meeting. "What do you think of this?"

He furrows a brow. She can't possibly be serious, — and yet, the look on her face tells him that she totally is.

"Well...", he starts. If there's anything he's learnt during his time living with the Ambassadors, is that Pieck is never afraid of having fun with her fashion. Sometimes, he recalls, she'll wear pineapple-stamped blouses around the kitchen. Others, it'll be the neon-pink socks peaking from under her long, pleated skirts.

"I guess that'd be a great choice if we wanted to look like a duck's thrown up on us..."

She rolls her eyes at him.

"You're a boring-ass man, Kirstein."

He shrugs, and stares at her for a moment; — the triumphant smile that brightens up her features. The spider-web earrings that show through thick, black hair. It amazes him, really, how irremediably different they are. He’s all slick-shirts, shiny shoes. She’s the type to throw some sneakers underneath her dresses.

"I've been told worse.", he says. And that is true, as well.

Pieck chuckles, then puts the suit back to where she’s found it. She looks ridiculously tiny, floating around the shop in her green, wide-legged trousers. Jean knows, right as he watches her again, she’s an enigma, sure enough. A five-foot-two paradox he can’t quite figure out just yet.

He shakes his head. The boutique Armin's sent them to seems awfully empty for a week-day afternoon. There are roads of folded clothing to cover up the walls, gowns neatly placed by size and color. Normally, they'd have a tailor do this for them. But with the new peace treaties incoming, they had no other choice than to run in emergency.

He takes a grey suit from the hanger, feels the softness of it between his fingers. He remembers the first time they'd been in Marley, back when hope was intact and the world was new. It all appears to be a distant blur now; a gleaming daydream lost within the alleyways.

He’d actually worn something similar to it at the time, he figures. They’d been shopping with Levi and Hanji the week before departing, and it’d been quite the adventure. They'd acted like an old pair of lovebirds, he tells himself now, looking back on it. They'd pick up outfits for Armin and Eren, — call out Sasha for spending her loan in food instead of clothing.

“What about this one?”, he shows Pieck, then.

She makes a face, but ends up giving him a small push, up towards the dressing rooms, after.

“Off you go!”, she says, as she takes a suit that matches his, and disappears behind the curtains herself.

Jean can’t help but roll his eyes. If there’s any other thing he’s learnt about living with the Ambassadors, is that Pieck’s weird, — hard to read as letters carved on stone. It’s not only because of how she dresses, but also due to everything else. Truth is, she’ll make odd noises when she laughs at Reiner. Put cheese between two walnut cookies and call it a day.

“Well, didn’t I tell you we’d look killer with thi—?”

He stops himself.

Outside her dressing room, she stares back at him, — makes a little pose in front of the full-body mirror that they share. She wears a white, simple blouse, tucked inside a long, grey skirt, that she’s paired with a plain linen blazer. She’s utterly gorgeous, achingly delicate and elegant, there— standing under the stage lights.

It takes a minute or two for Jean to regain his composure.

"Meh,", she shrugs, but it’s just to poke fun at him, at last. "I'd say it's alright for someone with such a boring taste."

He bites his tongue. If a single glance could kill, then, he swears, Pieck Finger would be dead and buried. She turned out to be quite the expert at getting on his nerves, after all.

"So, how you’d make it better, huh?"

She says nothing. At least, not at first. Instead, she spins through the store and goes to the tie-section, — grabs one that's navy blue.

"Hm", she holds it up next to Jean's face. The bright spotlights cast a golden sheen in her hair. Make it seem as though her eyes are fresh dew on an early morning. "Guess this one could go."

Jean raises a brow at her, but doesn't really reply, whatsoever. She's gotten close to him now, — so much so, he can count the specs of violet that dapple in her irises. Name the tiny freckles that dot over her cheeks, and that he'd never even noticed were there before.

"You really think so?”

Pieck nods, then gets up on her tip-toes.

"Yeah", she wraps the tie around his neck, first. It's a funny image, Jean thinks, as she tries to make up a knot — her stretching up, while he has to crouch down for her to reach him. To be fair, he has to be thankful that they're the only two people in the store at the moment. "I genuinely do."

He goes back to looking at her. He can feel the warmth that oozes from her body. Sense the trickle of her fingers against his neck, his shoulders. She’s beautiful like this, — cute, even. Her hair’s a mess, her eyes are drooped and tired. But she smiles at him like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Touches him as if he was made of the thinnest of glass, way too fragile for her clumsiness.

It is nothing like the first time that they saw each other, he notices. Not only because she was in her Titan form, but because he’d thought, then, that her hands could only be made for killing.

“Hold still, idiot.”, she laughs at him, and Jean straightens himself up. He sees it as fascinating— that her knuckles are all caked-up in battle-scar. Her palms are rough, baked in pink linings that turn gold under the sunset. But something soft can bloom from under them, —something tender. It’s in the way she holds him, with such care, — like he’s precious. How she tickles him in the tiny spot behind his ear, plays with him like they’re kids.

“Pieck…”, he sighs. His hand brushes a black lock off her face, — does it in a way that’s slow and delicate, as if time had stopped, right there and then. Matter-of-fact, he doesn’t even know why he’s done it, or when, — just that he felt like it. That his body acted on its own, without ever warning him of what it’d do.

She smiles at him.

“We should…”, she stutters. The bridge of her nose is flushed of a light shade of rose. Her cheeks scorching, twinkling beneath the afternoon-hours. “We should get goin’…”

Jean nods, but doesn’t pull away, at last. Pieck’s hands are on his neck, locked in around the tie, still, — his are on her hair. It’d been too long since he’d last felt like this, — as if his heart could jump, do flips inside his chest. If anything, he finds that, maybe, her palms build things back to life, as well. That they’re not only meant for destruction, but are capable of love. Of holding him like he’s broken, and they’re there to put him back together, after all.

“Yeah, right”, he says, finally, after a second or two; a small smile pulling from his lips, too. “I guess we should.”