#annie got the live reaction to this

[vanoefucks]

he. gave me a tulip

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: It's Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just a little bit smaller than the others and it's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that it is preparing for the coming angst!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Spotify Playlist 🪴

“I can’t believe you let him around those children. What were you thinking?” Annie asks wielding a curling iron like a sword. "He's a terrible influence!"

It was t-minus one hour and thirty minutes before the party started and Annie was doing your hair and makeup for the mission. Butcher decided that Ben and you would infiltrate and see if you could find anything suspicious inside, while Butcher, Frenchie, and Mm watched the streets outside the building.

Your chair was turned away from the scuffed vanity in Hughie's bedroom at the apartment the team shared. Why he had that you weren't sure, but you figured it must be for Annie. Her makeup bag, hair spray, gel, cream, curler, flat iron, and other paraphernalia was littering the soft butter colored top. There were more things sitting there than you knew the names of.

Annie had always been better at things like that than you. She'd done your hair and makeup for every high school dance and date you went on, so you'd agreed to let her do your hair and makeup for the mission. Not to mention you trusted her not to make you look too over the top or absolutely ridiculous.

As soon as she had gotten you into Hughie's bedroom she had practically pounced on you, demanding to know everything about the past few days that you had spent living in the apartment with Ben. You'd foolishly told her that you'd had to babysit the Wilson's children last night and she was horrified that you let them anywhere near him.

Granted you also would have had the same reaction if someone had told you that they had let Soldier Boy around little children.

But he wasn't terrible to them. You think to yourself. He was actually kind of sweet. It was the first time that you'd ever associate that word with Ben, but you believed that it was true. You remember how he sat with Marty at the kitchen table and allowed her to make a friendship bracelet for him. A bracelet, that he hadn't thrown away, despite what he'd told you after she gave it to him. You'd found it on the sink in the bathroom this morning when you got up, given a place of honor in the ceramic jewelry dish you used for your bracelets.

After Ben had gone out on his "date" you'd cleaned up, made your last cup of noodle, and then went to bed hoping to forget exactly what Ben was doing. The problem was that you were disappointed and you had no idea why. You'd tossed and turned thinking about Ben and the time you'd spent together watching the kids, until finally falling into an unsatisfying slumber.

Ben had sauntered through the front door at 3 am smelling like perfume and sweat, his hair tousled and standing up like someone had ran their fingers through it, while you were drinking a calming herbal tea from your favorite mug at the kitchen table in a post-nightmare haze. You'd had them your whole life following the accident that took the lives of your parents and was thankful that one hadn't hit when Ben was home. You didn't want to explain to him why you had woken up screaming and gasping for air just as you’d done since you were twelve years old.

When you'd first moved in to the apartment and you'd had the nightmare, Mike had banged against your front door, shouting for you to answer. He'd thought that someone was trying to kill you in the middle of the night, but you'd explained to him that you had nightmares and that you were okay.

The next time it happened, Mike's mother had left a large basket of herbal tea and homemade muffins outside the door of your apartment. Even though the muffins were almost inedible, it was incredibly sweet. You might not have wanted to date Mike, but he and his mother were some of the sweetest people you'd ever met.

When he saw you up, Ben had made a comment about you waiting up for him and stated that he was ready to go again if that's what you wanted, but you'd only waved your hand and rolled your eyes while taking another sip from the mug. You weren’t in the mood, not when you could still feel the chill of sweat against your skin and hear the sound of metal on concrete from the dream. He had sat at the table across from you and asked why you were still awake, you'd lied and told him that you couldn't sleep. You knew that he knew you were lying, but he only shrugged and went to take a shower while you finished your tea and fled to your bedroom to avoid him coming out in a towel again.

"He wouldn't leave. What was I supposed to do? Make him walk the plank?" You respond as Annie inserts the warm curling iron into your hair.

"He's just so-" She tugs your hair back as she curls it.

"It wasn't as bad as you think.” You consider thinking about how he let Martha make him a friendship bracelet and how he had held Joshua and made Joshua laugh. "He was actually kind of nice to Marty and to Josh.”

"Nice? Are you crazy! The guy's got a nuclear reactor in his chest and an uncontrollable temper. Why do you think it would be okay for him to be around children?”

"He didn't get angry or lose control. And I can't believe you're chastising me about this, the other day you were all for Ben and me sleeping together!"

"That wouldn't involve children." She takes another piece of your hair, gently wrapping it around the curling iron.

"Yeah, but it would still be him close to another human being-"

“He seems to be perfectly in control when he has sex. Or else there would be a string of destroyed apartments all over manhattan.”

"I can't believe you." You huff.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Have you guys kissed again?" She asks.

"I shouldn't have told you that." You grumble under your breath. "And can you keep your voice down? Ben can hear you."

He was in his old bedroom getting ready for the mission. The bedroom was exactly next to Annie and Hughie's bedroom, and you were sure that he was listening to Annie and you talk.

Because he can't keep his big nose out of anything. You think. Or rather can't keep his perfectly structured nose out of other people's business.

"I'm sure he has better things to do than listen to the two of us talk." Annie responds, but she begins to blast the ABBA gold album from her Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with the sound of 'Our Last Summer' "Come on-"

"Come on what?" You open one of your eyes to glare at her. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again."

"Why not?"

"You know why not. Ben is- Ben. And I don't want to waste my time with someone who's not interested in having a relationship." You shut your eye again to avoid her gaze.

"It's not a waste of time if he looks like that-" She trails off, inserting the curling iron one more time.

"I will agree that Ben is good-looking, but that's all he is. He doesn't care about other people, he only cares about himself and what feels good." You say it, but for the first time since you'd met Ben you weren't sure if it was true. Not after he spent his entire day yesterday helping you with the kids and not after he had bought you that bookshelf.

He cared enough to get that for you. A little voice whispers. But why? You wonder again. Why would he care about something as little as a bookshelf?

"You're making that face again." Annie says. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean- he-" You sigh to yourself. "He keeps confusing me."

"How?"

"Well the other day he bought me a bookshelf."

"What? Why?"

"Because he said that stack of books in my bedroom was annoying him." You roll your eyes behind your eyelids.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Annie's smirk is audible and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Shut up. He needed some clothes and I had some from the last time Darren stayed with me-"

Annie audibly groans when you mention your brother's name. They didn't get along. She thought that he was manipulative and that he used you. But you didn't see it. He was your brother, your blood, the only family you had left beside your grandmother and Annie.

"Please tell me he's not coming by soon. If he does I will be busy doing anything else."

"I don't know why the two of you can't just get along-" You sigh.

"Because he's the worst." Annie states loudly, dropping the curling iron and bringing the mascara brush up to your eyes.

"Can we please not have this conversation again?"

"Fine. Close." Annie holds up the mascara brush to your eyes. "Did you at least join one of those online dating apps or try to go on a date?"

"It’s been 3 days since we last talked about this-“ You feel the gentle stroke of the brush against your eyelashes.

“So?”

“No I haven’t.”

"Y/n-"

"I know, I know. I mean Jake did try to ask me out the other day but-"

"He WHAT?" Annie squeals, awkwardness about your brother forgotten. "Next time lead with that! Did you go out with him? Did you guys talk all night long?" Annie is hoping from foot to foot now, practically dancing to the music still blasting from the speaker on the dresser.

"I said no." You open your eyes to look at your friend.

"WHAT! Why?" She looks like you kicked a puppy. "He's so perfect for you! He likes plants and he's funny and he's got a great sense of humor, plus he's gorgeous and he's interested in you-"

"First he wanted to do something today and I knew Butcher had plans for me. Second, I didn't know he was asking me out, Ben told me he was." You close your eyes again so Annie can continue to do your makeup.

"Wait, Ben was there when he asked you out?" 

"We went to IKEA to get a couch for the apartment and Jake showed up and asked me out." You explain.

"You took Ben to IKEA?"

"He'd never gone there before, can you believe that?" It made you smile as you remembered how surprised he had been when you went inside. You’d had fun with him, walking around, testing out the couches, it almost felt… normal. And you kind of got the impression that Ben had a good time too. It was kind of cute when he did everyday things, when you saw him in normal settings and he was just a little bit awkward because he still couldn't figure out how to act in another time period.

"Yes I can, he's a million years old. Let's circle back to you saying no to the PERFECT man."

"He's not a million." You defend Ben. "And Jake's not perfect." You frown to yourself, thinking about the fact that Jake wasn't a supe. It wasn't something that you had cared about before, but ever since Ben brought up the idea of you "snapping Jake in half" it scared you.

Because what if I did? What if I hurt him? You didn’t know how Ben had sex so often with people who weren't supes. Maybe he just doesn't care if he does. Or maybe he’s done it so much that he’s able to control himself.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked him?"

"I mean I do. He's kind and he understands me and he loves plants as much as I do, but-" You shrug, feeling Annie begin to apply eyeliner. "I don't want to make things complicated. I mean we work together, he’s my boss. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I’d have to quit and I like my job.”

“I mean that’s kind of hot-“

“Hot in what? A sexual harassment kind of way?”

“No. It’s not harassment if it’s two consenting adults.”

“I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea.” You mutter more to yourself. But this time your mind didn’t go to Jake and you having a relationship even though he was your boss, instead it goes right to Ben. You can't help but slip into the fantasy of dating Ben, of you and him trying something new-

You shake off the image. He doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t think that’s important. The thought is almost like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to push past Ben’s charm and good looks, but this time it makes you consider something else. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s important now, but maybe he used to think it was before Countess.

You’d heard the stories, seen the newspaper articles and clips of film of Ben and her together, remembered what Hughie said that Ben had wanted a family with her that Ben had told her that he loved her. That meant at some point in Ben’s life he had loved someone else, cared for them, wanted to be more than just fuck buddies.

Maybe he's just afraid to fall again, because he's not sure someone else will be there to catch him. Maybe Ben doesn't want to admit that he cares for anyone else because he's afraid that they'll push him away or stab him in the back the way that Countess did. And maybe he hides it all underneath the macho attitude.

Ben is strong. He told me that he didn't need anyone else. You press your lips together in a tight line. But I think he does.

You hated that she’d hurt him. You hated that she’d pushed him away, told him she never loved him, and stabbed him in the back. You couldn’t imagine doing that to someone, telling them that you loved them, and manipulating them with the promise of love. It almost made you nauseous to consider it. It made you want to travel back in time to the moment she stabbed him in the back and shove a bouquet of sunflowers up where the sun don't shine.

You pause on the thought. You weren't a terribly violent person, but if someone ever hurt your friends your anger was legendary, practically divine. You'd never thought that you'd want to do something for Ben, but you were realizing more and more that Ben was becoming your friend. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

“Alright what if he wasn’t your boss.” Annie gently brushes eyeshadow over your eyelids. “Then would you go out with him?”

“But he is my boss.”

“Use your imagination.”

The song has ended and there’s an awkward pause between the end of it and the slow beginning of the next one.

“I mean yes?” You shrug. “I can see myself with him. He’s the kind of person I’d want to date. He cares about other people, he remembers what kind of coffee I like, he actually contributes to the conversation, he makes me laugh, he actually gets my jokes, he’s nice to sit with, he doesn’t get under my skin-“ As you list each of those things you couldn't stop your mind from comparing Jake to Ben. You didn't know when Ben became the level by which you judged other men, but it had happened sometime in the past few days and you didn't know what it meant.

But Ben did remember what kind of coffee I like and he does contribute to conversations, well, he contributes with a disgusting comment… The thought trails off when you remember the small conversations that you'd had with Ben that weren't sexual in nature, when the two of you watched the movie on the couch and talked briefly about your parents, when Ben asked you how your day was the other day back at the apartment, and when the two of you talked on the couch while the children slept between the two of you. In those moments you had seen another side of Ben, the side that he seemed to hide away from everyone else, but not from you, not all the time.

Plus Ben is kind of funny sometimes, disgusting but funny. Doesn’t understand my jokes. And yes he gets under my skin but sometimes it’s kind of exciting and nice to have that happen. With Jake sometimes he’s just too happy or too eager to agree with me.

"Hmm." Annie considers. "How did Ben react when Jake asked you out?”

You don’t answer immediately. “Normal.”

"You hesitated"

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did! He reacted didn’t he?!” Annie pokes you with her finger

"No he didn’t.” You lie.

“He did! Holy shit he was jealous wasn’t he?”

"No he wasn’t.” You swat her hand away. "He was just opinioned."

He sure looked jealous. You think to yourself remembering the way he glared at Jake from the other side of the room. The memory of the way his eyes darkened when he told you exactly why he wasn't jealous and exactly what he would do to you to make you forget all about Jake sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Yeah. Opinionated over why you shouldn't go out with Jake because Ben wants you all to himself." Annie crows.

"Shut-"

"But it doesn't matter. Because Ben's going to have a heart attack when he sees you wearing this." Annie steps back from you. "My work here is done. Try to make it to the mission without ripping each other's clothes off."

"We are not going to-"

Annie spins your chair back to the mirror and your next words dry up.

Your hair is perfectly curled back from your face, the lipstick is a dark shade of crimson that makes your lips look fuller and more plump, the eye make up is dark and dusky making the color of your eyes pop against the darkness in a mysterious alluring way that seems almost hypnotic, and your face is shaded and contoured so well that you look dangerous and sexy.

"I'll take the silence as a 'Thank you Annie! You're so beautiful and talented and you're the best friend I've ever had!'" She laughs, standing back behind you with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean all of that is true, but-" You stand up from the chair to get a better look. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well thank you. Had to. It's your first date with Ben." She makes goo-goo eyes and you try to punch her in the shoulder, but she dodges it.

"Shut up. It's not." You look down at the dress that Butcher picked out for you to wear. "I love you, but I hate Butcher."

The dress was a red scrap of fabric that clung to your curves, but left very little to the imagination. It was completely backless with an exaggerated wrinkle that fell just over the top of your ass. The front was sinched at the back of your neck secured only by a small piece of fabric that you were afraid would break at any moment and fell open in a "v" that stopped just under the swell of your breasts. There was a large prominent slit that cut up the left side of the floor length gown that stopped just shy of the top of your thigh. Annie had cinched a black choker around your neck to match the black pair of stilettos you wore

Personally, you though that the stilettos were overkill, you had no idea how the hell you were going to run after the supe if you saw him, let alone fight him.

"You look so hot." Annie says pleased. "You really should wear that all the time babe. I'd take you out to dinner just to show you off."

"You're the worst." You groan.

"I love you too honey." She winks. "Now come on. Butcher and the others are waiting for us." She turns off the speaker and walks out the door of the bedroom, but you linger there, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

You'd never worn anything remotely like this before, but even you had to admit, you looked good.

“Come on Poppet. You can’t hide in there forever.” Butcher chuckles from the living room.

He’s having too much fun with this. You huff to yourself finally leaving the bedroom to make your grand entrance, grabbing the black bejeweled clutch as you do.

Butcher, Frenchie, Annie, and Hughie are waiting outside the door while Kimiko sits on the couch scribbling away.

Hughie's mouth drops open,  Butcher gives an approving shrug, and Frenchie lets out a breath.

"You look beautiful." Frenchie takes your hand and gives you an appreciative twirl.

"Shut up." Your cheeks redden.

Hughie is still looking speechless at you. "I told you." Annie states elbowing him with a proud smile.

“You look-“ Hughie stutters.

“Good enough to eat.” Ben finishes, appearing in the hallway to your right. His hand traces the curve of your hip, thumb ghosting over your bare back.

“Just because I’m dressed like a hooker, doesn’t mean my brain’s not working.”  You slap his hand away ignoring the warm feeling that remains where he touched you. You could feel your heart beat begin to pick up in your chest.

“Baby I love your brain-“ Ben smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t love your body more.”

You felt your cheeks turn the same shade as your dress with his compliment before you can stop them. It was difficult to pretend that you didn't feel any attraction for him, not when he looked so good.

He had trimmed his beard and brushed back his dark hair, so you could see his emerald colored eyes gleaming. He was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, but chose not to wear a black tie, instead unbuttoning the top few buttons to give just a hint of his muscular chest beneath.

Why does he have to look so good all the damn time?

“Shut up.” You grumble turning back to Butcher. “So are you happy? I dressed up, my IQ dropped a billion points.”

“Ecstatic poppet.” Butcher grins taking a sip from the cup of tea in his hand. “Now remember anything happens, you detain the supe, no killing."

“He’s talking to you.” You elbow Ben.

Ben shrugs. “I won't apologize for doing my job."

You sigh again and walk towards where Kimiko is writing in one of her workbooks on the couch. 

"You look hot." She signs at you.

It had been difficult to learn the sign language she used, but you liked to think that you had a handle on it so you could understand simple conversations. When things got too confusing she would use her phone.

"I know. I was mad at Butcher at first for picking this dress, but I kind of like it." You sign back. "Don’t tell Butcher I said that."

She crosses her fingers over her heart. "Soldier Boy is looking at you."

"He’s always looking at me. I'm glad I can't read minds. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking."

Kimiko snorts, raising her hand to sign "I think the look on his face says it all."

You half turn and look at where Ben is again, he’s not talking to Butcher like you thought he was, he’s staring at you, pupils dilated, eyes darkening in a way that makes your heart feel like it's beating so hard it'll explode out of your ribcage.

No. No. Keep it together. Heart of a warrior.

"You two have fun!" Annie smirks widely, taking a picture of Ben and you like you're going to prom and you know she's going to send the photo to taunt you with it later.

“Shall we?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Ladies first.” Ben smirks.

 You roll your eyes at him as you walk to the front door of the apartment. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman Gramps. We both know you just want to look at my ass.”

“I’ll never get tired of looking Doll, especially not when you’re wearing something like that.”

A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I wanted to give Annie and the reader some time together, aka. Annie telling the reader to do the one thing that we ALL know she should do. 😂

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance³

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: long, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, suicidal thoughts, implied torture, violence, complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, and i involve finnick more in everything Words: 8.1K

Masterlist | Part 4

a/n: switching it up, so this part is from finnick's pov. it's basically mockingjay one, then i'll do one more part for mockingjay 2. ly guys!

Finnick Odair was not sure that love existed. Or, at least he wasn’t. He could barely remember what his parents looked like, let alone if they loved each other. But he had Mags; she proved to him that love existed because he loved her. It was the falling in love that he was unsure about.

And then he met Annie Cresta and it was like he suddenly understood. Yes, this was what the poets were talking about. This was love. 

But they couldn’t be together.

He was being sold off all the time, taking countless visits to the Capitol. He couldn’t endanger her like that, let her get involved in the fucked up world he lived in. So he didn’t. He loved her from afar, knowing they’d never really be together.

He thought it’d end there, but then one night, he saw you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was all his own will, but he walked up to you. He’d seen you at these events before, back home, and on TV, but standing there so close to you, it was like it was just hitting him how beautiful you were.

You were a victor, too. But he realized just how alike you were when he watched as you left a hotel room, in the same state as him. After that, it was you who took a chance on him until he almost looked forward to coming to the Capitol, just to see you.

You weren’t Annie. You didn’t remind him of what poets had written. No, he couldn’t describe you or what you meant to him in just words. What he grew to feel for you over time wasn’t akin to anything he’d ever read. This was so much more than that.

He loved Annie, he always would, but being with you made him realize what it was like to be in love.

But he never told you this, never said any of it out loud out of fear that he’d lose you.

Now he lost you, anyway.

The doors to his hospital room opened. He knew it was Katniss, but he didn’t say anything, staring right at the ground in front of him.

If he looked hard enough, he could see your face.

“Finnick.”

He looked up from his feet, but still didn’t look at her. He already knew what she looked like, and it wasn’t much better than him.

She was mad at him. She’d barely spoken to him since they got to 13, but he knew that she couldn’t have been much more mad at him than he already was at himself.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I wanted to go back for them—for Peeta, and Johanna, and Y/N… but I- I couldn’t move.” He twiddled his fingers with the rope in his hands, wishing it was your hand he was holding, but he wasn’t. You weren’t there. He left you.

He finally looked up at Katniss. She looked both emotionless and so emotional at the same time, lifeless but alive. “I- I love her, y’know?” He looked back down at the knot he was tying, sniffling involuntarily.

He was trying to keep it together, but without you, that was like trying to fix a broken glass without any glue. 

You were the glue that held him together.

And now the Capitol had you.

The words left his lips without much thought. “I wish she was dead.” He chose to stare at a spot on the ground instead of looking at Katniss’ reaction. His chest tightened. “I wish they were all dead and we were, too.”

If they had died, then at least they wouldn’t have been going through this, having to live but feeling so dead, anyway.

Katniss was silent until he eventually heard her leave the room.

There were words she didn’t say that still floated around the room, agreement that she didn’t voice. She was just as broken as him, holding on for dear life. He hoped that she’d keep holding on.

He had to have hope. He had to have hope that he’d see you again, that this wasn’t all for nothing, that they could build a better world that you could both live in. He needed to hope.

That hope was the only thing that kept him holding on, too.

He was in the cafeteria, sitting next to Katniss and Annie when it happened. The fanfare started playing, Caesar Flickerman’s face coming to the screen. He scoffed, tuning out and looking back down at the food on his plate, swishing it around. Recently, it had been hard for him to work up an appetite.

He looked back up when Katniss grabbed his hand, hers trembling. He soon realized why.

It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.

Katniss got up, walking to the TV and standing right in front of it, shocked. He would’ve gotten up and followed her, tried to console her, but it was as if he was paralyzed.

Peeta was on the TV.

And you were nowhere in sight.

He heard the conversation that had everyone on the edge of their seat through muffled ears. Peeta didn’t look exactly like himself, but he still looked like the golden boy Panem fell in love with. It was so obvious that the Capitol was using him, playing him like a puppet, but what confused him was that they were using him and not the much more powerful weapon they had in their arsenal.

You were the Princess of Panem. Plutarch and Coin knew that; that’s why they wanted you. Katniss could light a fire, but if they also had you, then together you could cause an explosion. If the Capitol wanted to sway public opinion, why wouldn’t they just use you, someone who the people trusted and adored?

Suddenly, his stomach fell.

If they weren’t using you, then it was because you weren’t in a condition to be shown to the public.

He felt a hand on his, turning his head to see it was Annie, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. As if she could hear his thoughts, the smallest of sad smiles grew on her lips.  “It’s gonna be okay, Finnick,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

How the tables had turned. Now it was her assuring him.

In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.

Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.

After Peeta’s interview, Finnick didn’t leave his room much. He’d lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending that you were there with him. He could withstand the silence if he had you by his side.

But now, the silence was deafening.

Sometimes, he didn’t hear a thing. Other times, your voice would fill the gaps, memories of you flashing before his eyes like a movie. Sometimes, they weren’t memories at all. Sometimes, he imagined a different life for you where you were both happy, in love.

And, sometimes, he imagined what they could’ve been doing to you in the Capitol.

Whenever these awake-nightmares got too vivid, he’d find Katniss and sit with her, knowing she must have been going through the same thing. It was what you would’ve done, what you did with him and Johanna.

You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.

The next time he was around everyone else, it was per Coin’s request. She announced to them all that Katniss agreed to be The Mockingjay and that, in return, she’d look for an opportunity to extract you, the victors that had been taken.

Katniss moved next to him. “Finnick, I made the deal for Y/N, too.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hope—this was hope.

“Good,” he said. For the first time since he left the arena, he smiled. “That’s good, Katniss.” A small chuckle left him.

Maybe he’d get a chance to make those dreams of his a reality.

With a newfound ardour, Finnick threw himself back into the ring instead of avoiding the fight like he had been, sitting in on meetings and doing whatever he could to make this work. He would see you again; he’d make sure of it. 

He went with the propo team to 8, watching as the Girl on Fire did exactly what they’d all been waiting for her to do. He wasn’t the only one that was hopeful—so were people in the districts, the people in 13.

They played her propo at the next assembly. The crowd cheered, but as he stood with The Mockingjay herself on the sidelines, she didn’t look so cheerful. Finnick understood this, he understood it well, but he couldn’t afford to think like that with your life hanging in the balance.

She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.

He leaned closer to her, quizzing, “You don’t like hearing a fight song at a funeral, huh?” She looked up at him almost in the same way she did when he made that joke in the arena. At the memory of your response, a small smile arose on his face. “The more people on our side, the closer we are to Peeta and Y/N,” he reminded her.

She nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and then turning back to the crowd. She didn’t look so convinced, but he left it there, knowing she was coping with this in her own way.

If Katniss loved Peeta even half as much as he loved you, then he’d let her do whatever she felt comfortable with.

But at the end of the day, it was love that kept them both going.

The next time Peeta was on TV, it was a wake up call for everyone. He didn’t look so refined anymore, so clean. There were bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

If this was what Peeta looked like and they still had him on TV, then what about you? 

A bile rose in his throat. He ran to the nearest trash can and threw up whatever they served that morning for breakfast, your face flashing underneath his eyelids. You weren’t smiling like in the dreams he had, but screaming.

He knew you weren’t dead, that the Capitol wouldn’t kill you, but when he pictured your face, you didn’t look so alive.

Oh, he wished he could’ve made you smile more. But in the world you lived in, sometimes it was too hard to even do that.

That’s why we’re doing this, he reminded himself. We’re trying to build a better world. But there were no words that Coin could say to shake the guilt he felt, guilt for leaving you, guilt for being the reason this happened to you. There was no band-aid he could put over this wound, no pills that could kill this pain.

But he had to push through it, and he couldn’t do that by sitting in his room by himself; every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. So he went to Katniss’ room, finding her in a position so similar to his own.

That was the man she loved on TV, even if she hadn’t come to terms with her feelings. She must have been just as guilty as him, if not more so. Finnick could remember a time when he rejected his feelings for you, too, scared of caring for somebody, scared of this happening.

He went through the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell, being sold when he was only sixteen, but falling in love with you was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.

If that’s how Katniss felt, then he didn’t want her to be alone, not when she reminded him so much of you.

So he sat next to her in silence, letting all of the words he wanted to say hang in the air, hoping that she heard them. They sat there wordlessly until Gale came in, telling them it was time to go, that they were going to 12.

It was only when he was about to leave that he finally spoke, deciding that these were words he had to make sure that she heard, words that he needed to hear, too.

“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.” 

She looked at him, forming somewhat of a smile and nodding. After staring at her for a few seconds, he left the room, going to get ready.

She didn’t know it, but the entire hovercraft ride on the way to 12, he repeated those same exact words to himself over and over again.

We’re gonna get them back.

While nothing could really ease Finnick’s worries, seeing the people fight back certainly helped. The revolution was picking up traction. The videos they shot in 12 had moved people so much that they were willing to put themselves at risk, just out of hope for a better Panem.

If they could do that, then he could, too.

He wondered if you knew about any of this, if you were even aware of what was happening or if the Capitol was just keeping you in the dark. Did you know? Did you hear Katniss sing?

Did it remind you of him the same way it reminded him of you?

He had so many questions, and so little answers.

Rebels in district 5 bombed a hydroelectric dam, cutting power in the Capitol. Not long after, Peeta Mellark was back on TV, talking about it. He no longer even looked like himself. He didn’t look like a victor, but like someone who had lost.

But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.

Beetee managed to get through the Capitol’s firewall, cutting Peeta off with Katniss’ propo. They watched as tears filled his eyes on screen.

That was the first time he looked like himself.

Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?

He faltered. “Katniss?”

Finnick watched as Katniss got closer to the screen, shaking her head. She saw it, too. She saw the man that went into that arena with them.

But then, like a victor would, his mask went back up so quickly. 

“The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction-”

Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.

Peeta inhaled shakily, his lips so slightly quivering. “Think about it,” he said. “How will this end? What will be left?” Finnick walked closer to the screen, like he was caught in a trance. Peeta’s previously calm façade had broken and was replaced with someone who looked stricken by panic. “No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Not in any of the districts.” 

He stopped, looking right into the camera as if he was staring into Katniss’ eyes. He may not have known it, but he was.

“They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone.” They heard quick footsteps behind the camera as Peeta rushed to get his words out. “And in district 13 you’ll be dead by morning-”

Then the camera cut out.

Finnick didn’t know what to say, glancing over at Katniss to see her cupping her mouth in shock.

Haymitch was much more calm. With Katniss spinning out, he had to be. “He’s warning us. That was a warning.” Behind him, Boggs said something in agreement.

Katniss looked to have gotten over her shock, frantically turning and fretting, “We have to get him out before they kill him.” She was ignored.

What about you? he wondered. Where did this leave you? But right now, what they needed to worry about was where it left them.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to come home to.

“It’s time for an air raid drill.” Seconds after Coin spoke, an alarm went off. Everyone that’d been fixed to their spot in the room was up, like they’d been preparing for this for a lifetime, and from what he heard, they had been.

Katniss went running, searching for her sister while he went looking for Annie and Mags, grabbing them and descending down the stairwell as soon as he saw them. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind blank, just as it was in the arena.

If he let his thoughts take control, then he’d lose it, and he couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t slip up right now with what was at stake.

It was your life on the line.

He couldn’t lose you.

But a part of him knew that, the second you were in Snow’s hands, the you that he knew was lost forever.

Down in the bunker, Finnick sat on the bottom bunk with Mags off resting by herself while Annie had fallen asleep at the top. Sometimes, with her episodes, it was easy to forget that she was a victor, too, that she had danced the same dance you had. But she was, and she was dancing like never before.

He could tell that she had been trying hard to keep it together, but with all of the panic and the noise, it was hard. She fell asleep easily. 

Although the bunker was pretty quiet, his thoughts were still so loud. The last time he saw you played out in his head. He could still taste your lips on his, still feel your soft skin, still see your beautiful eyes.

I’ll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

But he didn’t. He never saw you again. He would’ve never let you go if he’d known then what’d happen. He would’ve held you longer, kissed you longer. He would’ve told you he loved you.

If he’d known this’d happen, he would’ve told you long before The Games. The truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with you. It had always been Annie for him, and you were just there.

But that was exactly it. You were there. You were always there. 

Maybe he started falling for you after the first time you slept together. Maybe it was after your fifth time mentoring together. Maybe it was after the time he had a nightmare and you let him hold you. Maybe it was after you smiled, and really smiled, for the first time since you decided to start pretending to be a couple. He couldn’t be sure, but somewhere along the way, you became so much more to him than just Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Panem and victor of the 67th Hunger Games.

You became the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He just wished he could’ve told you that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone walked up to him. “Hey.” He looked up, seeing Katniss. She looked beat, her voice quiet. “Can I sit?”

He nodded, moving over so she could sit next to him. She had her family down here, that’s why he hadn’t gone over to her, but he understood why she was coming to him. After going through what they went through, it was easier to be around people who went through the same thing, who were going through the same thing.

Like she was reading his mind, she asked, “Are you thinking about her?”

There wasn’t any need for further explanation. Truthfully, he answered, “Yeah,” looking down at the ground. Every moment he had that wasn’t dedicated to this revolution was spent thinking about you.

After a second, she spoke up again. “Snow’s using her to punish you. He’s taunting us with them.” She scoffed a little. “I didn’t understand that until just now watching that stupid cat.”

She was right. This wasn’t just about propaganda. This was about Snow’s little puppets misbehaving.

So now he was showing them that, even in 13, he still owned them. He still owned Finnick. He still owned Katniss. He still owned Johanna. He still owned Peeta. And he still owned you.

He was using you against him because he knew how much you meant to him, the same way he knew how much Peeta meant to Katniss, even if she didn’t see that herself.

Finnick sighed, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking or keep it to himself before deciding that he had held enough in, that holding his thoughts in had never done him any good. So he turned to Katniss and started, “I- Y/N and I, we hadn’t met until after she won her Games. We weren’t really friends, at first, but rumours start fast in the Capitol, especially when ‘royalty’ is involved.” He humourlessly chuckled. “People were saying that we were dating, and so she- she thought the best thing for us to do was to let them believe it, let them have their love story. The alternative, two people coping together- that was a lot darker than what the Capitol could handle.”

She tilted her head, furrowing her brows. He watched as she put it all together. “Wait, are you saying that…”

He nodded. “Yes. It was fake. Our love story was just that: a story.” Surprise was painted all over her face.

“But… you told me that you love her.”

A ghost of a smile came to his face. “I do. I love her. It wasn’t like that at first, but over time, I fell for her, Katniss.” He saw a look pass over her face: understanding. What he was describing wasn’t just you and him; it was her and Peeta. “Y/N and I, we learned how to play the game. If anyone could spot a fake relationship, it was us. After your first Games, we thought your whole romance was an act. We expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died that… I knew I’d misjudged you. You love him.”

Katniss looked away, like what he was saying was something she’d never even considered. It was so clear to everyone that she loved him, everyone but herself.

“I’m not saying in what way,” he added, understanding her feelings so well because he’d right where she was. “Maybe you don’t even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it.” He maintained his stare, even as she looked away.

With the life they lived, you didn’t want to give yourself to love, to admit that to yourself, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. But you could only hide a love so strong for so long.

She swallowed, gaze still aimed at the floor. “How do you live with it?”

You’re asking the wrong person, he thought, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Right now, Katniss was lost; he needed to point her in the right direction.

Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.

He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I drag myself outta nightmares and there’s no relief in waking up,” he confessed. “But I- sometimes, when I’m awake, I let myself dream about her.” Finally, she looked over to him. “I dream that, one day, when this is all over, we’re living in a better world, happy.” The corners of his lips quirked up at the thought. “It’s hope, Katniss. That’s how I live with it.”

Katniss eyes were dull, red, tired, but even in the darkness of the bunker, he was able to see a tiny spark light up in her eyes.

Hope.

They’d fallen asleep in the bunker along with everyone else until Finnick woke up to Boggs shaking him, telling him that they had to go. Coin wanted Katniss to get in front of the camera, tell Panem that they were still standing after the attack.

But, as soon as they stepped outside, he watched her fall apart.

Roses.

A rose?

They’re a Capitol favourite.

You hated roses. Looking at them himself, he couldn’t even blame Katniss. He felt sick, too.

She couldn’t do it. She was almost hysterical, so of course Boggs let her go. They couldn’t put her on TV when she was like this. But they also didn’t have time to wait.

With Katniss gone, Haymitch and Boggs pulled him aside to a briefing room, getting started on a new plan.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

They gave each other a look, much like the look Plutarch and Haymitch traded right after the Quell, like they knew something he didn’t, like they were getting ready for him to explode.

“Finnick, the dam that went down in district 5 cut power in most of the Capitol,” Haymitch started. “Their defences are down—Beetee’s gonna be able to get in now.”

His brows furrowed. He already knew that. 

Sensing his confusion, Boggs cut in, “We’ve gotten word that the victors are in the Tribute Centre.”

Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.

You were coming home.

He echoed his thoughts. “You’re going to get them?”

“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”

“Well, I’m coming.” Again, they both shared a look, like they were expecting him to say that, and why wouldn’t they? You were his girlfriend; of course, he wanted to be there to save you. 

“Finnick-”

He cut Boggs off a second time, repeating himself, “I am coming with you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Finnick-”

“If you’re going to get Y/N, then I’m coming with you-”

“You are too valuable to this revolution for them to let you go,” Haymitch said, but Finnick really couldn’t give a damn about whatever reason they threw at him. You were all he could think about.

“I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing while they’re being rescued,” he retaliated. For over a month, sitting around and doing nothing was practically all he’d been doing, fantasizing about you, unknowing of when he’d see you again or if he’d ever see you again, trying to imagine what you could’ve been going through.

He couldn’t just stand by while you were in a live or die situation.

If you died- no, he cut his thoughts off, refusing to finish the sentence.

You couldn’t die.

Haymitch sighed, glancing away before looking back at him. His eyes were always hard, but at that moment, Finnick saw flashes of sympathy. “You won’t be doing nothing.”

His eyes slightly narrowed. “What do you mean?”

The two shared another look before he told him, “Katniss can’t record right now. But you can.”

Another scoff left his lips, an incredulous look on his face as his voice was laced with sarcasm. “You want me to film a propo while you save Y/N?”

Haymitch didn’t respond right away, just staring at him like he was trying to properly articulate his words. The way he was looking at him unnerved him, like whatever he was gonna say could shatter him into a million pieces.

“Not a propo, Finnick,” he finally said, hesitation evident in his tone. “It’s a lot more than that.”

And, as Haymitch explained to him what they wanted him to do, Finnick learned just how much more that was.

Finnick Odair. That was a name synonymous with royalty, luxury, desire. Before he even met you, that was the name he’d built for himself—or, rather, the name that was thrusted into his arms.

A sex symbol.

When you won your Games, he could remember listening to the Capitol chatter. Stunning, refined, intelligent: a princess. You both already had so much in common, both from the same district, both so young when you won, but suddenly, as he watched you leave that hotel room that night in the Capitol, he realized that you had much more in common than he thought.

You were one and the same.

Those nights you spent together in the Capitol, out in the cold, you were silent. And then, even as you spoke to big Capitol fishes and gave speeches, you were still silent then, too, never speaking out about the injustices you’d been faced with.

Now, Finnick stood outside in the darkness, cold, but this time, you weren’t next to him. You weren’t next to him, and that was because Snow took you.

So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

You deserved better than that.

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to tell if his surroundings were real, if he was really doing this. 

He looked back when Cressida called his name, a careful look on her face. “Yeah,” he said, conveying he was okay without saying it, even if he really wasn’t. 

She didn’t look very convinced, but she still responded, “Okay.” She paused. “Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don’t stop.”

He lightly nodded, looking up in front of him, seeing his breath in the air. For a moment, he was silent, but that moment didn’t last long. 

He had been silent for far too long already.

“This is Finnick Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games,” he introduced himself, even though he knew that anyone watching must have recognized him right away. “And I’m coming to you from district 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol,” he recited. “But I’m not here to give you recent news.”

What he was going to tell them was much more than news about this rebellion. What he would reveal was about a war that’d started long before this rebellion ever did.

“I come with something much more valuable.”

I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.

Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?

“The truth. The truth about being a victor, about being royalty.” Bitterness seeped through his tone. “Not the myths about a life of luxury. Not the lie about glory for your homeland.” He looked straight at the camera. “You can survive the arena. But the moment you leave, you’re a slave.”

We will never be free, Y/N.

He took in a breath before he spoke his next words, knowing that they held power stronger than a weapon. He may as well have been pointing the gun at his own head. But if he had to get burned to burn down the Capitol, then he would do it. He would do it a thousand times over.

And so would you.

“President Snow used to sell me. Or my body, at least. I wasn’t the only one.” Your face flashed in his mind. “If a victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Johanna.

It’s not fair. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

I know. It’s not fair, I know.

It was never fair. No riches or glory could ever be enough to compensate for that.

“To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment.” The corners of his lips upturned slightly to form a small, humourless smile. “Secrets.”

The secrets he knew had the power to rip apart the Capitol’s so called “peace” at the seams. For him, for Katniss, for Johanna, for Peeta, for Annie, for you—this peace had fallen apart ages ago.

Katniss was forced to become the voice of thousands when she could barely do that for herself. Johanna turned to rage. Peeta turned to charm. Annie lost her mind. And you… what about you? 

It was about time that this peace was destroyed. It was about time that people understood exactly what victors really lost. And that Panem’s monsters weren’t hiding under the bed.

They were sitting on thrones.

“See, I know all the depravity, the deceit, and the cruelty of the Capitol’s pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow.” The biggest monster of them all. “Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” He paused, looking right at the camera as if he was looking right into Snow’s eyes.

He hoped he was watching.

He hoped he was watching as they burned the Capitol to the ground.

“One word.” He lit the match. “Poison.” And then he dropped it.

“He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats.” He could remember being at one of those dinners, watching a man fall onto his plate, his life over so quickly.

Once you were on the playing board, it didn’t matter how powerful you were. To Snow, you were all just pawns that he could knock off the board easily.

Not anymore.

“Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But… antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”

When Finnick learned this, he could remember the feeling he had, the satisfaction in knowing that a man who had spilled so much blood was bleeding himself. It was karmic.

How ironic was that?

“But he can’t hide the scent of who he really is,” he continued, remembering Cressida’s words. Don’t stop. “He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison.” He scoffed. 

“The perfect weapon for a snake.”

Moments after Finnick’s last words, they were off the air. Cressida’s hand went to her ear, a dark look passing over her face. The Capitol air defence system’s coming back online, she said, and she didn’t get to say much else before he went running inside.

Much like every other day he’d spent in 13, your face came to his mind, but this time was different. This time, they went in to save you.

What if they couldn’t?

No, they had to bring you back- they had to.

He ran and ran until he got to ops, seeing Katniss crying in Haymitch’s arms. As soon as she saw him, she latched onto him and he reciprocated her hug tightly. He had to hold on. He had to.

He wouldn’t survive the fall if he let go.

He knows, he knows they’re in the Tribute Centre, she cried, and then for the second time that day, his heart stopped. He knew. Snow knew about the rescue mission.

His ears rang, eyes going blurry. And then things got a little blurry after that, too. Eventually, he ended up back in his room by himself. He didn’t know how he got there, but he did. All he could hear was your voices in his head.

No, you are coming home-

Finni-

We are both coming come. We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.

He was supposed to protect you. He promised. He promised you that you would both make it home. But now where were you? You weren’t with him.

You never came home.

At one point, Annie came in, trying to be of some consolation, but she ended up leaving, unable to get through to him. He couldn’t hear her over your conversations that replayed in his head on a loop.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

A tear raced down his cheek. He knew that you were maybe still alive, that you still had a chance, but that didn’t matter. It was never supposed to get to this point. He was never supposed to let it get to this point, a point where you could be dead.

He was supposed to bring you home.

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

The doors suddenly slid open and Katniss walked in, breaking him out of his spell. He wiped the tears that’d fallen, clearing his throat. “Is there any news?”

Solemnly, she shook her head. “No.” He sighed as she sat down next to him, a big exhale leaving her lips, too. Both of them had passed the point of exhaustion, but it wasn’t like they could rest. Finnick wasn’t sure that he could sleep if he tried.

With this song playing so loudly, how could he?

Katniss was dancing the same dance as him, fighting the same battles. The man she loved was out there, too. She must have been just as scared as him.

They sat in silence for a while until she broke it, her voice raspy and just above a whisper. “Finnick?”

He turned to see her looking down at the ground. “Yeah?”

“I-” she stammered. It was only when she looked up at him that he saw the look in her eyes and knew why she was so nervous.

He shook his head. “It’s fine-”

She scoffed. “No, it’s not- it’s not fine-”

“Katniss-”

She cut him off. “I’m sorry.” Her words made him swallow. He knew she was going to speak them, but for some reason, hearing them was so different, surreal. She exhaled again, maintaining eye contact. “I am sorry.”

Finnick looked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her apology, but he felt uncomfortable, looking into her eyes and just seeing the pure sorrow, pity. No, Katniss hadn’t been through exactly what he had, but at that moment, looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror.

He couldn’t handle that right now, not when he stood at the top of the tallest mountain in the world and had such a long way to fall, everything to lose. 

He nodded, accepting her apology without words. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know, she didn’t know him back then. She hadn’t been a victor long enough to know yet. If anything, he was glad that she didn’t get to know their world, that she wasn’t sucked up by the same darkness that took you and him.

He was glad that her and Peeta got time in the sun, even if it was only for a little while.

“Y/N…” At the sound of your name, he turned back to her, seeing her brows furrow, eyes glazed over. “When I met her, she said something to me.” Realization flashed across her face as she looked up. “Was- was she-”

He cut her off, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” When he blinked, he saw you walking out of that hotel room, the look on your face. He’d never forget the way you looked at him that night.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

“There were more,” he admitted. “Any victor that the Capitol found desirable was taken. Annie only couldn’t because of her madness. Johanna-” a humourless chuckle left his lips. “Johanna refused, and her entire family paid the price.” He look back to Katniss to see that her mouth had fallen open, a look of horror on her face. “You and Peeta were spared because you were together. Hell, that’s the reason Y/N and I got together, to escape all this. And now look where we are.”

With you on the verge of dying and Finnick on the verge of losing everything.

You. You were his everything.

And you didn’t even know it.

“I never told her, Katniss.” He was breathless, like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d realized this before, knew that he made a mistake, but now it was like he was realizing that he may never get the chance to correct it. “I- I never told her I loved her.”

I’m your girlfriend now?

Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.

I am so serious right now.

You had no idea. You had no idea that you were the reason he kept living, that you were the reason he kept going, even when it hurt so badly. He’d walk through Hell if he could get to Heaven and be with you.

But what if you never knew that?

What if you died without knowing how he felt about you?

Katniss grabbed onto his hand. He looked to see tears welling in her eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Hope, Finnick. You need to have hope.”

“Hope,” he echoed. Just like how he saw your face, he was able to see a future just as easily. It was so clear. That better world that Coin went on about, the better world that they were fighting for… it was just within their grasp. He nodded, managing to form somewhat of a smile. “Hope.”

He needed that, now more than ever. If he ever wanted to make it to that better world, to live in it with you, then he had to have hope—hope for the both of you.

Katniss didn’t say much after that; neither did he. Both of them were reflecting on their own, still trying to process all the turmoil that the day had caused. He spent his time thinking of you, imagining that better world.

In a better world, you and Finnick would’ve never been sold. You would’ve met, and he would’ve gotten the chance to fall in love with you the right way. He wouldn’t have been so scared to tell you. You would’ve given back to the community, not taken kids to their deaths.

You would’ve been so happy together.

But that wasn’t the world you lived in.

In the world you lived in, you and Finnick were sold at ages far too young. First, you sold your souls by winning The Games, and then your bodies were sold to people who had no business touching you.

In the world you lived in, you were only brought together because of tragedy. You only dated to try and save yourselves from a much greater evil, not because you loved each other.

In the world you lived in, Finnick fell in love with you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when his biggest fear became losing you.

But in the world you lived in, he lost you, anyway.

So he had to have hope that a better world was possible- he had to. Not having that was another blow he wasn’t sure he could take.

When imagining your better world turned into reminiscing over all that’d happened to you both, he cut his thoughts off. He couldn’t let himself stop and break down now, not when he was so close to the finish line, so close to you.

So he pulled rope from his pocket, tying the same knots over and over again, a habit he’d picked up at a young age. Focusing on the knots was able to take his mind off everything, allowing white noise to play instead of this song.

He didn’t want to hear it without you.

He did this until he lost track of time. It was only when the doors slid open again that he was broken out of his trance. Katniss perked up right away. It was Haymitch behind the door, looking as enthusiastic as Finnick had ever seen him. “They’re back.”

She gasped, getting up and running right away, but it was as if Finnick was cemented to his spot. They’re back. 

You were back.

Just like that, he was shaken out of his shock, standing and quickly catching up with them.

They ran until they were in the medical area. As soon as they got there, he saw Johanna, ripping an IV out of her arm. Her hair was gone, shaven off, bruises all over her pale, pale face.

“Johanna,” Katniss muttered, but Finnick’s attention was elsewhere, eyes darting around the room, searching for you, heart racing.

And then he saw you.

His eyes went wide. “Y/N!” Without waiting another second, he ran to you. After over a month, here you were, right in front of him.

But it wasn’t so simple.

You flinched as his hands went to touch you, making him retract them right away. Your eyes didn’t look in his direction once.

Like you were scared of him.

At the thought, his heart clenched. It was only then that he noticed you were shaking, even as you were covered in blankets.

Your body was littered with cuts and bruises. You were pale, too, so clearly malnourished and sleep deprived. But it was your eyes that really got him. Your beautiful eyes no longer looked so lively. They looked empty.

You looked like a ghost.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked simultaneously with his heart. Why weren’t you looking at him? “Y/N-”

He was cut off. “Mr. Odair.” He turned to see a doctor standing on the other side of your bed, a hesitant look on her face and a look in her eyes that made a shiver go up spine. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced back to you, seeing that you still weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on a spot on your bed. You hadn’t looked up once, even as the doctor spoke. Confused, he nodded, letting the woman pull him to the side, out of earshot from you.

But even as the doctor started speaking, he couldn’t get your eyes out of his mind.

That look in your eye was somehow worse than any of his nightmares combined.

“Mr. Odair, Ms. Y/L/N’s condition is… it’s quite complex,” she cautioned. He furrowed his brows, his worry increasing.

“What do you mean- is she okay-”

“No, I meant- physically, I’m not seeing much to be worried about. Of course, she could be better- much better, but this is what we were expecting.” She paused, glancing at you. “Mentally- I’m not even sure where to begin.”

He glanced back at you, too, to see that you were still staring at that same spot on your bed. He let the doctor’s words register in his brain. You weren’t okay.

“We’ve informed psych, but for now, you’re just gonna need to give her time.” Time.

He let out a breath, feeling his eyes getting wet as what she was saying really soaked in. “You’re telling me to leave.” Just as he got you back.

“Mr. Odair-”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“Finnick.” She cut him off with a strong call of his name. “Your girlfriend’s mental state right now is unstable. She’s in shock; she’s not herself right now. It is going to take some time to get her out of this state, and it’s going to be hard for you to see her in it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for her is take some time to collect your thoughts.”

She was telling him to go off and think. Did she know that’s all he’d been doing for hours, thinking and throwing himself into the worst possible scenarios, only to realize that one of them had become a reality?

But he didn’t tell her this, instead looking back at you. You were lifeless. When he looked back at the doctor, there was a pleading expression on her face. He didn’t want to leave you, but she made it sound like the best possible thing to do for you. So he did.

But the truth was, he just couldn’t bear to watch you when you were like that.

You were the love of his life. It was like his heart started beating again when he saw you there, alive, but then it dulled once he really looked at you.

You didn’t look like the girl he fell in love with, the girl that went into that arena, or the girl he said goodbye to. It only took a month, and now you looked like a completely different person, like you had seen things no man had ever seen.

In his haze, Finnick made it back to his room, but he didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing onto the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest as his mind spun.

You were alive. He thought that, when he finally saw you again, all of his worries would be erased, that everything would be okay again, that the world would go back to being in colour instead of this black and white that he’d been stuck in with Katniss.

But nothing seemed more colourful.

Nothing seemed better.

You were here. You were back, Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman he loved, the same woman he’d dreamt about for weeks. You were alive. 

But, oh, he should’ve known it couldn’t have been that easy.

Your heart was beating, your eyes were open, and you were there… but that didn’t mean you were alive.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

Little did Finnick know, you were already dead. 

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons

[blaxcunicorn]

𝓣𝔀𝓸 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭𝓼

Length: 15.7k

Content: fem!reader, smut, child birth, pregnancy sex, fighting, angst, pregnancy, some graphic descriptions of violence, injuries, character death, racism, discussion of race, classism, mentioning of grooming.

Authors note: Hii!! OMG THIS IS THE FINAL PART OF THE SERIES. MY SHAYLA! I might write some small scenarios with the reader and Eren as I love Tarzan Eren a bit too much. The lactation kink was inspired by @theragethatisdesire and @st4rbwrry's fics. Alsooo I want to thank you guys (Ik cliche eeesh) but no fr, when I first started writing Tarzan Eren I felt a bit self-conscious about it as there were mostly modern AU fics out there and I wasn't sure if people would be interested reading this, let alone with a Black reader but holy shit yall proved me wrong. So thank you for motivating me and encouraging me to write a bit outside the norm🥹🫶🏿

These are the first parts if you haven't had the chance to read them yet: Pt.1. The King of the Jungle and Pt.2. Strangers Like Me

Credit: @unicornlandsposts for the photo and @kodaswrld for the divider.

Eren stepped in with a big smile, followed closely by Mikasa and his mother, Carla. The sunlight danced on his skin as he approached you. His eyes were glowing with affection at the sight of you with your tiny bump.

“Well?” he asked, hands playfully on his hips, “What’s your craving for today, my moonflower?”

You leaned back against the cushions while you hummed, placing your hand over your belly. “Hmm… papaya,” you said first, but then your eyes lit up. “Mango too. And—oh! Coconut water. Cold, if possible.”

Eren gave a mock salute while chuckling. “Papaya, mango, and coconut water. Got it. I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

Mikasa gave you a quiet nod, softened by the moment. The two of them disappeared down the trail, likely already plotting the fastest route through the forest to get everything on your list.

Carla stayed behind, settling near you with the kind of maternal vibe that made you feel more at ease. She took your hand gently.

“I’ll go find you some sugar cane,” she said with a smile. “It helps with headaches, especially when you’re carrying new life. My little trick when I was pregnant.”

“Thank you,” you said giving the elderly gorilla a warm smile. 

Carla brushed a braid behind your ear and gave your hand a squeeze. “Of course, dear. You’re family now.”

As the morning quiet settled again and the footsteps of Eren, Mikasa and Carla faded into the distance, you turned back to Armin. 

“What were you going to say earlier?” you asked, resting your hand back over your stomach. “About Eren?”

Armin reached into a small wooden box beside him. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you… I just didn’t know how.”

He pulled out two worn ID cards, they were faded and water-stained, but still readable. You took them carefully, tilting them toward the light.

Grisha Jeager and  Carla Jeager.  Both written in stiff, official German script.

You blinked. “His parents?”

Armin nodded. “I found these not long after we moved into the treehouse. At first I thought they were from someone else. But Eren... he looked exactly like her.”

You traced Carla’s face with your eyes, then whispered, “Eren Jeager.”

Armin cleared his throat, “There’s more. According to these records… Grisha and Carla weren’t just anyone. They held the titles of Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden.”

You choked mid-sip of your tea, coughing hard. “Eren is… potentially the Grand Duke of Baden?!”

Armin winced at your reaction but nodded. “I was just as shocked. I sent a letter to Annie as soon as I saw the cards, she’s still living in Germany for now, though she’s slowly relocating to England. I asked her to investigate.”

You leaned forward, while your eyes were about to pop out. “And?”

“She confirmed it. Eren is, in fact, the rightful Grand Duke of Baden. But that’s not even the most surprising part. His mother… her full name was Sultan Carla… the daughter of Sultan Mahmud II.”

Your mind reeled. “Sultan Mahmud II? The Mahmud?” Your voice cracked. “That means Eren is…”

“Direct Ottoman royalty,” Armin finished for you. “He holds deep political roots in both European and Ottoman dynasties.”

You were still processing when Armin added, “Annie also discovered that Eren’s grandparents in Germany,  are still alive. But they froze the family’s estate and wealth. They don’t want it falling into the hands of Eren’s half-brother.”

“Eren has a brother?”

Armin gave a nod. “An illegitimate one. From Grisha. Annie actually met with the grandparents after confirming Eren’s identity. She told them he’s alive… and that he’s about to be married to you.”

Your heart beat faster, your thoughts soaking in the significance of the names, titles, empires, and bloodlines…and yet all you could think of was Eren, sitting by the lagoon, biting into ripe fruit and smiling like he had no idea of the world that once belonged to him.

Armin continued gently, “That’s why I’ve been teaching him German. I just… wanted him to be prepared.”

You were about to speak when footsteps padded softly across the wooden floor.

Carla entered the hut with a soft smile, a bundle of sugarcane stalks in her arms. “Here we are,” she said warmly. “For the headaches.”

“Thank you,” you and Armin said almost in unison.

As she knelt beside you, you exchanged a glance with Armin,  then took a breath.

“Carla… may we ask you something?”

She looked up. “Anything.”

Armin reached behind him and carefully laid down the two ID cards alongside a faded photograph, a man and a woman standing by a black iron gate. The woman’s face looked almost exactly like Eren’s.

Carla froze, her gaze resting on the photo longer than necessary.

You noticed the shift in her expression.  There is quiet sadness there, not born of surprise, but of something long buried.

She gently reached out, touching the edge of the photo. Her fingers lingered on the woman’s face.

“I knew this day would come,” she said softly.

Carla sat quietly, her hand still resting over the photograph, her eyes glassed over. Her silence stretched long enough for you and Armin to feel it. The feeling of something long buried now crawling toward the light.

Finally, she spoke.

“I was mourning,” she said softly. “I’d just lost my baby... to the leopard, Sabor. I couldn’t even scream when it happened. I just froze. And then… days later, I was curled in the tall grass near the river, trying to breathe… when something touched my knee.”

She looked at you, eyes shining.

“It was a baby,” she whispered. “Giggling.”

Your lips parted in shock.

“I thought I was hallucinating at first. But then he looked up at me,  eyes so wide, so full of life. When I gasped, he got scared and started to cry.”

She gave a soft, watery laugh, lost in the memory.

“I picked him up… swayed him gently, which helped him stop crying. He even grabbed my thumb with his tiny hand. I… I melted. I’d forgotten how small they are.”

“I heard a woman’s voice. She was calling for ‘Eren.’ I thought she was his mother. I didn’t want to frighten her, so I said goodbye to the baby and hid in the brush. I watched.”

You and Armin leaned in, breath caught.

“She came and picked him up. Then a man shouted for her,  called her Carla. And when he appeared, she answered back, ‘Yes, Grisha, he is fine. He must have crawled away when I fried the fish.’”

Your heart stopped.

“They were his real parents,” Armin said, barely above a whisper.

Carla nodded. “But Eren… he turned back. As they walked away, he looked over her shoulder, locked eyes with me. He reached out. Like he didn’t want me to leave.”

She exhaled.

“From that day on, I began to visit him in secret. He was always there with Carla, Grisha, and a man named Kruger. When he was hungry, I would smash bananas for him. I knew it was dangerous. But I didn’t care.”

She looked down at her hands, as if seeing Eren’s tiny fingers wrapped around them once again.

“One day, I was spotted by Grisha — my Grisha — he stopped me in the jungle and asked where I was going. I told him… I was checking on the baby. That his parents left him alone too often.”

You and Armin remained frozen in place, listening authentically to the story.

“He got angry,” she said. “Told me that Eren would never replace the son we lost. But… I was already attached. I didn’t care. I just wanted him to be safe.”

She swallowed hard.

“But then… that day came. The one we all feared.”

“I was on my way to see Eren. I heard screams. Sabor had found the humans.”

Your breath hitched, while Armin sat upright.

“I ran,” Carla continued. “I ran to get Grisha. He rallied the warriors. He wanted vengeance, he had waited for it since our own son was taken. But…”

Her voice broke. “When we arrived, it was too late.”

“Carla. Grisha. Kruger. All dead.”

You covered your mouth, and Armin closed his eyes in disbelief.

“I rushed to the treehouse,” Carla whispered. “Praying and praying, that he was still alive.”

She closed her eyes and let a breath out.

“And he was. I found him crying in his crib”

“ My Grisha found me there. He said… he had failed. That the least he could do now was give Eren a second chance. He told me… to take him.”

Your chest ached. Armin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“I didn’t hesitate,” Carla whispered. “We left that day.”

After a long silence, Carla added, “Our real names… are Kala and Kerchak. But we took on their names,  so that it would be easier for him. So he would have some thread of who he was.”

You stared at her, heart thudding in your chest. You didn’t know what to say.

Armin looked at the photo again. “So Eren never knew.”

Carla shook her head. “Not until now.”

The hut was quiet for a long moment.

You finally said, voice soft and full of awe. “And yet… he found his way back to who he truly was.”

“Because of you.” Carla said with a small smile. 

“I brought what you asked for,” Eren said as he entered the hut. 

He held a basket and inside, nestled between palm leaves, were slices of ripe papaya and golden mango. A small gourd had been hollowed and filled with coconut water, wrapped in a cool cloth to keep it chilled.

You smiled, touched by the care he’d taken.

“I remembered,” he smiled. “Papaya. Mango. And… coconut water.”

You took the basket from him, brushing your fingers against his. “Thank you, my love.”

Before you could speak further, Carla walked behind them.

“Mikasa,” she said gently, her tone firm but motherly, “come with me.”

Mikasa blinked, confused. “But I wanted to check in on her, on the baby. Just to see how she’s doing.”

“You’ll have time for that later,” Carla replied, guiding her gently by the arm. “Come. I need your help gathering herbs for the broth. Armin, will you join us?”

Armin, whom already read the room, gave you a quiet nod before following them out, leaving just you and Eren alone. 

Eren sat beside you on the woven mat, placing the basket gently in your lap. “Try the mango first. It smelled the sweetest.”

You picked up a slice but then paused, but you reached for his hand instead.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Eren’s posture straightened. “Is it about the baby?”

“No,” you replied. “Well… yes and no. It's about you.”

You inhaled deeply. “When we first arrived at the treehouse, Armin found some old ID cards. They were written in German. The names were Grisha Jaeger and Carla Jaeger.”

Eren didn’t respond at first, his head tilting slightly, not fully understanding what you were saying. 

“They were your parents,” you continued. “Armin sent word to Annie to investigate. She’s still living in Germany, at least for now. What she found was… unexpected.”

You reached for the coconut water to wet your throat, nerves prickling under your skin.

“They weren’t just anyone. They were the Grand Duke and Duchess of Baden. That makes you—”

“—A Grand Duke?” Eren finished for you. 

You nodded, a little breathless. “Yes. Eren… you’re the rightful Grand Duke of Baden. A noble region in southwest Germany.”

He blinked slowly, absorbing the words like falling leaves.

“That word… Duke,” he said at last, “it means… a leader?”

“Yes,” you whispered. 

Eren blinked slowly, remembering the globe you’d once shown him,  fingers tracing lands he’d never walked, yet somehow had belonged to him.

“And your mother…” you hesitated. “Her real name was Sultan Carla. She was the daughter of Sultan Mahmud II.”

Eren raised his head. “The one you told me about… the powerful Ottoman ruler.”

You nodded.

 “A sultan. Like in your stories?”

“Not just any sultan,” you said. “One of the most powerful rulers of the Ottoman Empire. That means you’re… a prince. From two royal bloodlines.”

He stared at you for a long time before softly asking, “Does that matter to you?”

You touched his hand again. “Only that you know. Only that you can decide what it means for yourself.”

You hesitated, not wanting to overwhelm him but your curiosity got the best of you.  “There’s something else I need to ask.”

He nodded.

“What do you know about Sabor?”

Eren’s gaze darkened for a fraction of a second, then smoothed. “She’s the leopard that killed my mother’s first son.”

You nodded slowly. “Yes. But… she also killed your biological parents. Grisha and Carla.”

Eren stilled.

“I didn’t know that,” he said finally.

“I figured,” you murmured.

“I killed her,” he said simply. “Two years ago. I did it for my parents. I wanted to help my father avenge their son.”

Your stomach twisted at how nonchalant he is. “You could’ve died.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “And she won’t take anyone else.”

You chewed slowly,then you said, “Your grandparents… they’re alive. Annie found them. They’ve kept your inheritance frozen so it wouldn't fall to your half-brother.”

Eren’s expression finally softened. “I have grandparents?”

You nodded. “They want to meet you. And… me. They know you’re alive. They know we’re married.”

A slow smile spread across Eren’s face, beautiful in its simplicity. “Then let’s meet them. I want to see them. I want to introduce them to my beautiful wife.”

You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

“You’re taking this all so well.”

He kissed your temple. “Because I already have what matters.”

Then he placed his palm gently on your stomach.

There was something more in your heart, but you decided that this was not the right time to bring it up.

A week past by, you were seated on your dinner table. Eren was reading books on history while you were reading letters from Hitch. Her updating you on what you’ve been missing from London made you ask Eren. 

“Have you… have you thought about moving to Europe?”

“No. Not really.” He said, looking up from his book. 

“I think we should.” locking eyes with him. 

“Why?”

“Because of the baby,” you murmured. “Because I want them to grow up with friends. With an education…”

“I grew up in the jungle,” he cut in, “and I turned out fine.”

You felt annoyance spreading from your chest like cancer. 

“Your biological parents were killed in the jungle, Eren.”

And like that, the disease spead to Eren. “They didn’t have a tribe like we do. We do now. When Malcolm kidnapped you,  I saved you. The tribe took care of you. Hasn’t everything I’ve done proven that I can take care of you? Of them?”

“You don’t understand.” You stood up, as the adrenaline made you unable to sit still. 

“What is it that I don’t understand?” Eren is slightly confused, but he could feel his heart sink to his stomach. He doesn’t like where this is going. 

“I don’t want to stay here anymore…Everything changed when I got pregnant.” You said, gently holding your stomach. 

You tried to breathe evenly as emotion pushed against your chest. “I’m thinking about the baby now. Their future, health care, schools, friends. You might be okay here, but I want more for them.”

“I am more,” Eren said. “I survived here. I made a life here. We have everything we need—”

“The only reason I made it through the first stages of this pregnancy was because of Hange,” you snapped. “But they are leaving. And if the baby gets sick, who’s going to help us? There’s no doctor here.”

“ Again, I grew up here and I’m fine.” He said, shaking his head. 

You sighed, and  the truth spilling out faster than your heart could stop it. “Armin is leaving too. He wants to be with Annie, to start a new life with her and to present our research. He’s ready to move on.”

Eren’s eyes flickered. That one stung.

“Wait… Armin’s leaving?”

“Yes.”

It was a small pause and then, 

“I see what’s wrong,” Eren’s voice cracked, “You don’t want them to end up like me.” He took a step backward. 

“…Yes.”

But you stepped forward, “Not in that way, Eren. You’re brave. You’re strong. You’re an amazing husband. But you’ve been lonely your whole life. I don’t want that for the baby.” You said with a gentler voice. 

His shoulders tensed. “I have a tribe. A responsibility. A legacy my father passed on to me.”

You nodded. “You told me once, in the lagoon that you were willing to leave all of that behind for me.”

“I was,” he said. “If I had to choose between the tribe and you… I’d choose you.”

“Then I’m asking you to choose now.” You placed a hand on your stomach. “Us. Because the baby can’t be raised here.”

Before Eren could think he said “Then why the fuck did you decide to stay with me?!”

The words hit the air like a slap causing you to flinch. 

Eren's face paled instantly and his eyes widen. Shit. He hadn’t meant that.

His mind raced, remembering how Armin told him never to swear in front of a lady unless it was, well… consensual in the bedroom. And this was definitely not that.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Who taught you to swear?” You said, cutting his apology. 

“It’s… not important.” He stuttered. 

“Huh…okay.” You said, already knowing the culprit. You silently made a note to smack Reiner the next time you saw him.

Eren’s hands curled into fists at his sides. Anger wanted to erupt, but so did regret. And then another memory came , his father, walking away whenever he felt fury bubbling. “Never raise your voice at a woman. Never show her the ugliest parts of you. Leave before you become the man you swore not to be.”

Eren turned without another word and stormed out of the treehouse.

You stood there, frozen, your hands still cradling your belly as if to shield the baby from the chaos that had just passed through. Your throat tightened, and your knees trembled slightly. You didn't realize how much you’d been holding in until now.

A moment later, the door creaked and in entered Armin. By taking one look at you he could tell…you were ready to come home.

And without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. The moment his arms enclosed you, your composure broke and you released your tears. 

Not a silent stream of tears, but a full-bodied, soul-cracking sob, muffled by Armin’s shoulder. Your fingers clutched the back of his shirt as if anchoring yourself in place, trying to stop the ache of the three demons haunting you. Called fear, uncertainty and guilt.

Armin held you tightly, one hand gently rubbing your back in circles as he always did since you were children, the feeling of the circles helped ground you somehow. His chin rested lightly against your head, and he let you cry, never rushing you, never pushing you to calm down.

“I’ll talk to him,” he said softly. “I promise.”

You shook your head weakly against his chest, trying to form words, but they came out broken and half-formed.

“I just… I don’t want to fight. I’m not trying to change who he is… I just…”

“You’re trying to protect your child,” Armin finished for you, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “And that’s not selfish. It’s what any good parent does.”

You nodded, still crying, but breathing became a little easier.

“He’s scared,” Armin added gently. “He’s never had to think about life beyond these trees. Beyond protecting what’s in front of him. But he’ll come around. He loves you, both of you,  too much not to.”

You leaned into his shoulder again, clinging to that hope.

Armin ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, his boots pressing into the soft earth as he made his way down a narrow path carved by years of movement.

He found Eren near the edge of the riverbank, sitting on a moss-covered rock, staring blankly into the rushing current below. His elbows rested on his knees and his fingers were loosely interlocked.

Without a word, Armin approached and quietly sat beside him.

Eren didn’t look up. “So… you saw that, huh.”

Armin nodded gently. “Yeah.”

Armin let out a slow breath. “Soon. we have finished our research, and I want to present it. I also want to go back to England… marry Annie, start a life with her.”

Eren gave a small nod, eyes still fixed on the water.

“I stayed longer for two reasons,” Armin added. “For the gorilla research… and for her. To support her through her new journey…until she is settled.”

“I thought she was happy here. I thought I made her happy. I can protect her, and our baby.” Eren said putting his forehead on his knees. 

“You’ve done so much for her,” Armin said sincerely. “You’ve protected her, given her peace, joy and stability. But Eren… it’s more than just protection.”

“What do you mean?” Eren said, turning his head to lock eyes with Armin while his temple was resting on his knees. 

Armin glanced sideways. “Have you ever noticed that she and I don’t look the same?”

Eren blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Our skin,” Armin said simply. “Our hair, our features.”

Eren tilted his head slightly. “Yes?”

“In our society,” Armin continued, “those things matter to people. Not in a good way. Where we’re from… she and I aren’t treated the same…It’s called racism.”

Eren’s brows furrowed. “Why would anyone treat her differently?”

Armin’s voice softened. “Because of how she looks. She’s part of the ton which is a  a group of wealthy individuals, yes, but she doesn’t have a title. Although she is even wealthier than me. And her skin tone… it’s something people have judged her for her entire life.”

Eren looked stunned. “Do… do you have a title?”

Armin nodded. “I’m a Lord. That opened doors for me that were slammed shut in her face. My grandfather is a respected academic. He had to fight tooth and nail to get her into university… he nearly lost his position over it. Because she didn’t have anyone else.”

Eren was silent, absorbing each word with a growing knot in his chest.

“Her parents died when we were young. She’s faced that world alone. Avery’s supported her, I’ve done what I could but as a man, and Avery as a maid, there were always limits to the places we could be. She couldn’t even apply for a PhD like I did,  not because she wasn’t capable, but because the odds were stacked against her.”

Eren’s mouth parted slightly. “But… she’s brilliant.”

Armin gave a small, proud nod. “She had better grades than I did in university. I brought her to Africa because I hoped that the findings we’ve documented here would give her the credibility she deserves and make her eligible for that PhD. That’s part of why she came.”

Eren turned his gaze back to the water, stunned. “She never told me any of that…”

“She wouldn’t,” Armin said gently. “She didn’t want to burden you. But now, with the baby… she’s thinking long-term. About education, healthcare, opportunity. About making sure your child doesn’t have to fight those same battles.”

Armin, then added, “Especially now that we know the truth about who you are. A title like Grand Duke of Baden…That’s power, but it’s only power if you use it.”

“She doesn’t want the baby to grow up like she did,” Armin continued. “And not because of you, Eren,  but because you mean so much to her, she wants more for your child. A life of security and safety.”

Eren didn’t speak right away. His jaw clenched, his knuckles turning pale where they gripped the edge of the rock.

“She’s one of the smartest, strongest people I’ve ever known,” Armin finished. “And I think… she’s tired of fighting alone.”

Eren stared down at the water, his thoughts spinning. His chest ached with things he hadn’t seen, known or understood about you. 

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I just wanted to give her peace. A home.”

“You still can,” Armin said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you have to see the world through her eyes too.”

Finally, Eren whispered, “Thank you.” and Armin responded with a nod.

Eren didn’t speak for a while. Then he stood slowly, brushing the dirt from his pants and walked into the jungle to find you. 

You sat silently on a smooth rock near the edge, your feet in the cool water. Your eyes were puffy from the tears you'd shed. 

You were taken by surprise when you felt his strong arms gently wrapped around you from behind. His warmth wrapped around you before you felt his lips find the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses there.  You didn’t pull away. Instead, you placed one hand over his forearm, holding him there in comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Eren murmured.

You closed your eyes, “I’m sorry too,” you whispered.

“I brought you something,” he said, lifting the basket slightly. “Thought you might be hungry… or just in need of something sweet.”

He settled beside you in the shallow water, opening the basket to reveal slices of mango, papaya, and some fresh coconut, your favorites. Without a word, he gently picked up a piece of mango and held it out to you. You blinked at him, then smiled softly and leaned in to take a bite.

The juice ran slightly down your lip, and before you could wipe it away, he was already leaning in, brushing his thumb across your mouth, then placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he whispered.

“I hate crying,” you whispered back, though your smile betrayed how much his presence comforted you.

Eren rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve never done this before,” he said quietly. “Being someone’s… someone’s home. But I want to be that for you. And for our baby. Even if I stumble sometimes.”

You closed your eyes.“You already are, Eren.”

He pulled you into his arms again, and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re my whole world, you know that?”

“You’re getting pretty good at saying sweet things.” You giggled. 

He shrugged, grinned. “Maybe I’ve been studying.” He said while he tapped his temple

“Studying what?”

“You.”

You leaned against his chest, laughing softly, as his arms tightened around you protectively. 

You stayed like that for a while, before Eren leaned in closer. His lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Whatever decision I make,” he mumbled, “you need to know… I’ll think it through. Carefully, and I’ll put you and our baby, first. Always.” He gently placed his hand on your stomach stroking it with his thumb. 

You closed your eyes and  nodded, knowing that no matter what, you could trust Eren.

Three months later

The morning light streamed softly through the trees as you and Armin sat by the desk, a breeze fluttering the corners of the parchment in your hands. You read the letter while Armin read over your shoulder.

“A vote… about the ton?” you whispered, eyes skimming the elegant handwriting. “They’re considering granting us full equal status.”

Armin exhaled a slow breath, nodding. “It’s the moment we’ve waited for. We have to be there.”

He quickly moved to his desk and began writing a return letter. “I’ll request a boat immediately. We’ll head to England as soon as it arrives.”

“Yes!....Or…We’ll need to stop in Germany. To see Eren’s grandparents.” 

Armin paused in his writing, then smiled slightly. “Of course!”

Later that afternoon, you approached the lagoon, carrying the letter. Eren since the argument wanted to understand the concept of race more and wanted you to be more transparent and open about your feelings and experience in order to understand you deeper. 

Eren was already there, waist-deep in the water.

He looked up with that lazy, content smile that always softened your heart. “Hey.”

You held the letter out to him. “We got something. There’s going to be a vote… about my people gaining full equal status.”

Eren took the letter carefully and started reading it. You watched his brow furrow, then lift in realization.

“I want to be there,” you said gently. “Armin and I have to go. But… we’ll stop in Germany first. To visit your grandparents. And I wanted to ask… if you’d come with us.”

Eren didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Of course.”

You smiled and set the letter down with your folded clothes at the edge of the lagoon. “Thank you.”

He stepped toward you as you began to undress for your bath. His fingers brushed over your belly.  “You’re glowing.”

“I'm sweaty,” you giggled. 

“A glowing kind of sweaty,” he grinned. 

You slipped into the warm lagoon, sighing in relief as the water cradled your sore body. Eren joined you, his hands massaging your lower back gently before you glanced at him with an awkward expression.

“I… haven’t shaved,” you murmured.  “I can’t really see my vagina anymore.”

“Do you want me to help?”

Your cheeks warmed, but you nodded slowly.

With a gentle smile, he helped you perch comfortably on a smooth rock, one foot propped up to give him access. His movements were careful and attentive as if he was holding something sacred.

“You sure?” he asked softly, holding the blade in one hand, while the other resting on your thigh.

You nodded, relaxing your shoulders. “I trust you.”

Eren leaned in and pressed a kiss to your knee. “Good. Then let me take care of you.”

And he did when he was done, Eren set the blade aside, his eyes lingered on your smooth, delicate skin. His breath hitched slightly, and his voice took on a huskier tone. "I need to eat," he murmured, his gaze locked onto your most intimate area. "Keep your legs spread for me, love."

"Are you comfortable?" he asked. You nodded, your heart pounding with excitement. Eren's hands gently caressed your thighs, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a hunger that was both fierce and tender. "Hold onto me if you need to," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath your fingers.

Eren leaned in, his tongue tracing a delicate path up your inner thigh. You could feel the heat of his breath, the softness of his lips, as he kissed and licked his way closer to your core. Your body tensed with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

When his tongue finally made contact with your smooth, sensitive folds, you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp. Eren's movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue exploring every inch of you. He licked and teased, his fingers gently spreading you open to give him better access.

You could feel the pleasure building, your body responding to his skilled touch. Eren's hands held your thighs steady, his grip firm yet gentle. He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued to lavish attention on your most intimate area.

His tongue dipped deeper, tasting your essence and drawing out moans of pleasure from you. He knew exactly where to touch, how to move, to drive you wild. His fingers joined his tongue, gently circling your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your body sing.

You found yourself gripping his shoulders tighter, your legs trembling as the intensity of your pleasure grew. Eren never stopped, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to push you closer and closer to the edge.

"Eren," you murmured, your voice breathless and desperate. He responded with a low growl, his movements growing more insistent, more demanding. You could feel the coiling tension in your body, the need for release building to an almost unbearable level.

Finally, with a cry of his name, you tumbled over the edge. Waves of pleasure swept through you, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Eren held you steady, his tongue and fingers continuing their delicious torture until every last shudder had subsided.

As you came down from your high, Eren gently kissed your thighs, his hands caressing your stomach. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction. "You taste incredible," he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I could stay here forever, just like this."

The sky was streaked in soft pinks and oranges as the boat gently rocked at the river’s edge, sails prepared and supplies neatly packed. It was time.

You stood beside Armin, fingers lightly laced with his as the wind tousled both your hair. Across from you, Annie adjusted the strap of her satchel, while Hange, grinning behind round glasses double-checked their leather pouch filled with carefully preserved herbs.

“I still can’t believe you’re both leaving,” you said softly, your voice warm but touched with a hint of sadness.

Hange gave you a crooked smile. “England’s waiting on these herbs like it’s the cure to immortality. I can’t let them down. Besides,” she added, tipping her head, “someone has to make sure the Queen’s garden has proper taste.”

Annie rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched with amusement. “And I’ve got unfinished business in Germany. That tribe I found… it's huge. I’m telling you, no one’s going to believe it until they see my notes. I need to present it all to the university.”

You smiled. “They’re going to be in awe, Annie.”

Armin stepped forward and gently wrapped Annie in a hug, holding her close. “I'll see you later,” he murmured into her hair.

She nodded against his shoulder, and when they pulled apart, her usual stoic expression softened.

“At least I don’t have to share a tent with Hange anymore,” Annie said dryly. “I’m finally getting a full night’s sleep.”

“What?!” Hange gasped, stepping back like they’d been shot. “I do not snore!”

Annie raised a brow. “You snore like a dying boar.”

You burst into laughter while Armin tried and failed to hide his grin. Hange clutched their chest in mock offence.

“That is slander!”

Annie just shrugged and boarded the boat without another word.

Hange gave you a tight hug next, then turned to Armin and the others. “Keep her and the baby safe,” They said seriously, patting your shoulder. “And keep researching. The world’s not going to explain itself.”

“We will,” Armin promised. 

With one last wave, the boat slowly drifted away from the shore, sails catching wind as the river carried Annie and Hange toward the open sea and distant lands. You stood quietly for a while, watching them disappear into the horizon.

You finished arranging the last little touches on the blanket,you has placed Eren’s favorite tropical fruits in bowls, and a fresh jug of cool coconut water. You’d worked hard on this small surprise picnic for Eren. With your pregnancy growing heavier day by day, you couldn’t swing through the vines with him anymore, so this was your way of showing him just how much he meant to you.

Mikasa was lounging under the shade of a tall baobab nearby, her eyes closed, arms behind her head. Visiting had become a daily habit, she always came by to check on you and the baby. 

Armin and Jean were at the lagoon, working on the final analysis for your research paper. Meanwhile, Eren had gone deeper into the jungle. He had just finished speaking with the hyenas, who were troubled by mysterious deaths within their group. They’d sought him out for advice, and now Eren was pacing alone through the thick foliage,thinking to himself.

What kind of animal could take out hyenas…?

His thoughts were interrupted when two figures emerged from the trees, two leopards with menacing eyes and muscled bodies. One had deep chestnut spots, while the other had a scar cutting across its right eye.

“Zarei,” said the first one.

“Tamir,” added the second.

Eren froze for a second. He hadn’t seen a leopard in years…not since the day he killed Sabor.

“So we finally meet, Eren…” Zarei, the scarred one, hissed. 

Tamir narrowed his eyes. “Shocked to see us? After what you did to Sabor?”

“You knew her.” Eren said as his jaw clenched. 

“Knew her?” Zarei snarled. “She was our strongest soldier. She was my mate.”

“When you killed her,” Tamir growled, “you doomed our tribe. We were forced to flee to the south. But now, we’ve come for revenge.”

Without another word, they lunged.

Eren ducked the first blow, but two against one was brutal. He managed to roll and grab a thick wooden branch, swinging it to knock Zarei back. It cracked against his side, but Tamir struck from behind, claws raking across Eren’s chest. Blood spattered the leaves.

He grunted, pain flaring through him as he turned, jabbing the stick into Tamir’s side. The leopard let out a roar and bit into Eren’s forearm. Zarei took the stick from Eren’s weakened grip with his teeth and pressed it toward his throat, trying to crush him.

Pinned to the jungle floor, Eren's muscles were shaking and blood seeping into the earth.

Just above them, perched in the branches, a hoopoe bird watched in horror, and then fled as fast as it could.

Back at the treehouse, Mikasa suddenly stiffened. Her eyes shot open as the bird landed in front of her, chirping frantically and flapping its wings.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, noticing the alarm on her face.

“Eren’s been attacked,” she said, standing up quickly. 

“What?” You gasped.

“By two leopards…he’s in danger. I need to alert the warriors.”

“There’s no time!” you snapped, standing as best you could with your growing belly. “He could be dead by the time they get there….just like his parents.”

Mikasa looked into your eyes and saw something dangerous burning behind your scared eyes…it was almost like a predator. 

Eren coughed, struggling to breathe. Zarei was pressing the branch harder while Tamir’s teeth stayed sunk into his arm. His vision blurred but then he heard a loud BOOM. 

Tamir’s head exploded in a spray of blood and his body went limp.

Zarei turned quickly, wooden branch dropping from his mouth in shock, just in time for a second bullet to strike his abdomen. He collapsed to the ground and started gasping.

You emerged from the shadows, with smoke rising from the barrel of the gun in your hands.

Zarei tried to crawl away, dragging himself through the dirt. You marched over, kicking him in order to turn him on his back. Placing your foot on his stomach, and leaned close. 

“Leave my fucking husband alone.”

You pulled the trigger, finishing off with a blow between the eyes. 

Eren’s eyes blinked open, he had blood coating his chest, arms trembling as he tried to sit up, but collapsed halfway.

Mikasa appeared a second later, kneeling beside him. “Don’t move,” she said, gently lifting him onto her back.

You rushed forward, gripping the gun tight as adrenaline still buzzed in your blood.

Back at the treehouse, you cleaned his wounds with care, shaking a bit as you wrapped the bandages. He winced but never took his eyes off you.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” he rasped.

You didn’t look at him. “Armin’s grandfather used to secretly take me hunting in when I was little. Armin hated it and he was terrible with a gun. I got the gun from Hange or well Armin did and I got it from him again.” You giggled a bit, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Eren gave a weak smile. “That was… kinda cool.”

You dropped the cloth in the bowl of bloody water. “It’s not funny.” Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes. “You could’ve died. Left me alone. Left us alone.”

He reached for your hand, but you pulled away.

“The jungle isn’t safe, Eren,” you whispered, standing and walking to the door. “Not for us. Not for our baby.”

And with that, you left him there. 

You sat quietly on the edge of the treehouse platform, legs pulled in, hands resting on your belly. The adrenaline from earlier had finally worn off, leaving only exhaustion.

You didn’t cry. Not yet. You weren’t ready to fall apart. Not when Eren was still recovering inside. Not when everything still felt too raw.

The wooden boards creaked lightly behind you.

You didn’t turn. You didn’t have to.

Armin sat down beside you, letting the quiet speak for a moment. The breeze rustled the leaves above, brushing against your skin like a whisper.

“I talked to him, before he fell asleep.” Armin said softly.

Your eyes stayed forward, watching the jungle breathe in gold light.

“He told me everything… about the attack. About you.” He paused. “You saved his life.”

You swallowed hard, blinking.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.” 

He reached over and laid a hand carefully on your back, just between your shoulders.

You stayed like that for a while, until the silence grew heavy again.

“I could’ve lost him, Armin…” you whispered. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did…”

Armin nodded slowly. “But you did. You got there. And he’s alive because of you.”

Your breath was shaking. “He shouldn’t have been out there alone. I knew something was off… I felt it, and I still let him go.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Armin said. “This is what he does. He protects. He listens to the animals. The people. He carries more than anyone should, but that’s who Eren is.”

You nodded faintly. “And I love him for it. But I’m scared, Armin… This jungle, it took his parents. It almost took him.”

Your fingers tightened around your belly instinctively. “What if it takes him from our child, too?”

Armin leaned a little closer. 

“He knows that now.”

You finally turned to look at him, eyes were puffy and glassy.

“I just want to go somewhere safe, Armin… Somewhere this baby can grow up and laugh and play and be normal. Not looking over their shoulder for a leopard with a vendetta.”

“I know.” Armin squeezed your shoulder. “He’s thinking about all of it. He’s listening now, even if it’s hard. He’s been alone for so long, making decisions on instinct. But he wants to be better… for you. For your baby.”

You looked down at your lap, blinking away tears.

“I’m tired, Armin.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you’re not alone.”

That was all it took.

You broke.

The tears slipped through silently at first, and then all at once. Armin pulled you into a soft hug, letting you rest your cheek against his shoulder, letting it all pour out. Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. 

Armin didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

Just like when you were kids, when your world fell apart, he held you until the storm passed.

Eren stirred.

The ache in his body was horrible, but it wasn’t the pain that pulled him from sleep. It was the absence of you. Your warmth, your hand in his, the sound of your voice, it wasn’t there. And he felt it like a missing limb.

He blinked groggily, sitting up with a soft grunt, the bandages tugging slightly around his chest and arm. His body protested with every movement, but he ignored it. He needed to find you.

He moved quietly down the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath his bare feet. The cool night air kissed his skin as he stepped outside, scanning the trees, the clearing, the moonlit path.

Then he saw you.

You were by the firepit, seated on a log, bundled in a light shawl. Your hand rested on your belly, gently rubbing circles over the fabric of your dress, your face tilted up toward the sky. 

“Y/N…” Eren called. 

You turned, startled at first, until your eyes met his. You stood up quickly, halfway rushing to him before remembering he was still injured.

“I thought you were resting…” You whispered. 

“I was,” he murmured, reaching for you. “But I couldn’t feel you. I had to find you.”

You stepped into his arms, carefully, as if one wrong move might hurt him. He pulled you close anyway, tucking you beneath his chin, burying his face into your hair.

You could feel his breath trembling against your neck.

“I’m okay,” he whispered. “You saved me.”

Your arms tightened around his waist. “You idiot,” you mumbled into his chest. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Eren pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Not now. Not when you’re here. Not when our baby is here.”

Your lip were shaking, but you managed to nod.

“I just… I need you to understand that I’m scared, Eren,” you said. “Scared of losing you. Scared of raising this child alone.”

“I do,” he said gently, brushing your curly hair away from your face. “I get it now. I didn’t before. But I do.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I was so harsh.”

“And I’m sorry I was so stubborn,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve always been braver than me. I just took a little longer to catch up.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through the tightness in your chest.

Eren leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, then finally your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle,  like he was rediscovering the taste of home.

His warm hand dropped gently to your belly. 

A month later, the sun was just beginning to rise over the jungle, casting long golden streaks across the earth as the boat arrived at the riverbank. 

You stood at the riverbank with Eren and Armin, your hand resting on your growing belly. The time had come,  you were finally leaving for Europe, starting with Germany to meet Eren’s grandparents.

Behind you, clustered just outside the tree line, stood Mikasa, Jean, and Carla.  Mikasa sat under a thick baobab tree, her hand unconsciously resting on the slight swell of her stomach. 

Jean stood beside her, arms crossed in his usual brooding posture, trying to play it cool,  but his twitching ear and the way his foot shifted gave him away.

Carla approached slowly. She had always been a dignified matriarch, but now, she looked… small. She stopped in front of Eren, her hand reaching up, hesitating slightly before gently brushing over his man bun, as if committing the feel of him to memory.

“You’ve grown so much,” she said. “You were my little one… and now you’re someone’s mate, someone’s father.”

You felt your chest ache as you watched Eren lower his head respectfully and press his forehead gently against hers. A sacred gesture between gorilla kin. Being one of love, farewell, and blessing.

Carla then turned to you, “Take care of him. Of both of you.” Her knuckles brushed yours in a careful. “He always tried to protect us… now you protect each other.”

You nodded, too choked up to speak.

Then Mikasa stood up, she didn’t say anything at first. She simply walked up to you and pressed her forehead to yours,  a gesture she had never given anyone but Eren. 

You blinked back tears. “You’re going to be an incredible mother,” you said softly.

Mikasa’s hand brushed gently over your belly. “So will you.”

She turned to Eren next. The two of them exchanged a silent look. She didn’t hug him, as gorillas rarely did but the way she placed a hand on his chest and squeezed lightly said everything.

“I’ll miss you,” she finally muttered, stepping back.

Jean let out a gruff snort as he came up behind her. “Try not to start a war with the humans,” he said, his smirk betraying the emotion in his eyes. He gave Eren a nod, then Jean looked at you. “Keep him in line, will you?”

“I always do,” you smiled.

Then it was time.

Eren helped you onto the boat and Armin followed, setting down the case holding your shared research. The crew gave the signal, and the boat began to pull away from the jungle shore.

Mikasa stood tall, one arm wrapped around Carla’s shoulders.

“Don’t cry,” she whispered to Carla as her eyes filled with tears. “Eren will be back.”

But Carla didn’t respond at first. She just kept watching the boat drift farther away. Then she said.  “He has a family now… a new purpose. Once he’s with his people…” her voice cracked, “there’s a small chance he’ll return.”

Mikasa’s hand stilled. Her breath caught in her throat. The realization settled in her chest like a stone.

The boat creaked gently beneath your feet, swaying softly with the rhythm of the river as it moved away from the shore, from the jungle, from home to home. You stood at the railing beside Eren, watching the green blur of trees slip slowly behind you. Eren stood tall beside you, his hand protectively resting on your back, fingers brushing the curve of your spine.

“Are you excited to meet your family?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, eyes scanning the horizon. Then, with a little smile, he said, “Sure. But I already got a family.” His warm hand slid from your back to your stomach. “Us three… and the ones back home.”

His words warmed you, but they also sat something down gently in your chest, a soft ache of guilt. You hadn’t said it out loud, but you knew. You’d asked him to choose. Between his world and you. Between the vines… and this new life with you, across oceans.

You didn’t realize you were quiet until he turned to you, his hand still on your belly, his thumb gently rubbing circles against the fabric of your dress.

“You should get some rest,” he said gently, almost as if he had read your thoughts.

You blinked up at him, lips parting in surprise.

He didn’t press, didn’t scold. He just tucked a braid of hair behind your ear and nodded toward the stairs that led below deck.

The ship cabin was small but cozy. There was one bed against the far wall, windows letting in light and the wooden floors were polished. You stepped inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet click. Eren stood behind you, silent as you both looked at the bed. Then, without a word, he came up behind you and slid his arms around your waist.

You leaned into him, your back against his chest. He kissed your neck softly and turned you slowly to face him.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, as if moved by the same invisible thread, you leaned up and kissed him. His hands held your sides, thumbs brushing the curve of your bump, and your hands slid around his neck.

​​ Slowly, you broke away from the kiss, your breath coming in soft pants. Eren looked into your eyes, his own dark with desire and love. You sat down on the edge of the bed, your heart pounding with anticipation. Eren followed you, kneeling before you with a grace that belied his strength.

He started by carefully removing your shoes, his fingers brushing against your ankles. He looked up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands then slid up your legs, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, gently tugging them down and off, his eyes never leaving yours.

Eren's hands caressed your legs, his touch feather-light as he kissed your ankles, your calves, the inside of your knees. You could feel his warm breath against your skin, his lips soft and gentle. He pushed your legs apart, his eyes darkening as he caught sight of your most intimate area.

He leaned in, his tongue tracing a delicate path up your inner thigh. You gasped, your body tensing with anticipation. Eren looked up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and admiration. "I've got you," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

His tongue made contact with your folds, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Eren's movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue exploring every inch of you. He licked and teased, his fingers gently spreading you open to give him better access. Your body responded to his touch, waves of pleasure building with each passing moment.

Eren's hands held your thighs steady, his grip firm yet gentle. He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued to lavish attention on your most intimate area. His tongue dipped deeper, tasting your essence and drawing out moans of pleasure from you.

By the time he was done, your body was singing with pleasure, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Eren gently kissed your thighs, his hands caressing your legs as he pulled away. He stood up, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to undress you, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it off your shoulders.

He leaned down, his lips pressing soft kisses against your neck, your collarbone. You could feel his warm breath against your skin, his hands gentle as they cupped your breasts. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire.

Eren took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. You gasped, your body arching into his touch. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak, his hand caressing your other breast. Suddenly, he paused, a confused expression crossing his face. "What is that?" he murmured, gently squeezing your other breast.

You looked down, shock and embarrassment washing over you as you saw the tiny bead of milk at the tip of your nipple. "I...I don't know," you stammered, as you felt your cheeks burn. "I haven't given birth yet, I don't know why..."

Eren looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and curiosity. He gently squeezed your breast again, another small bead of milk appearing. He leaned down, his tongue darting out to taste it. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with surprise. "It's sweet," he murmured.

He took your nipple into his mouth again, sucking gently. You gasped, your body responding to the sensation. Eren's eyes never left yours as he drained the milk from your breast, his expression one of pure pleasure. He moved to your other breast, his tongue swirling around the nipple before sucking gently, draining the milk from it as well.

As he pulled away, his eyes were filled with a newfound hunger, a kink neither of you knew he had. "You taste incredible," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I want more."

He quickly undressed, his body hard and ready. He helped you lie back on the bed, propping pillows behind you for support. He kneeled between your legs, his hands gentle as he helped guide your legs around his waist. He leaned down, kissing you deeply as he slid into you, filling you completely.

You both moved together, your bodies in perfect sync. The boat rocked gently beneath you, the sound of the water lapping against the hull a soothing backdrop to your lovemaking. Eren's body was slick with sweat, his muscles taut as he moved above you, his hands supporting his weight to avoid putting pressure on your bump.

As you both reached the peak of pleasure, you cried out, your body convulsing around him. Eren followed soon after, his body trembling as he found his release. He stayed kneeling, his body upright as he supported his weight off of you.

After a moment, he helped you sit up, his arms wrapping around you gently. You leaned against him, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the big scar on his chest. Eren looked down at you, "I love you," he murmured, his hand gently caressing your back. "No matter where we go, we go together." You smiled before falling asleep. 

The air around Jaeger Castle was cooler than the jungle breeze you’d grown used to. The grand stone façade towered above you,with ivy crawling up its aged walls and intricate carvings etched into the front doors. You stood between Eren and Armin, your hands clasped over your rounded belly as the carriage rolled away behind you. The quiet countryside air buzzed only with the sound of distant birds.

Then, the front doors opened.

An elderly woman in a long, emerald-green dress stepped out onto the grand stairs, followed by a tall man with silver hair.  Eren stood frozen for a breath before his grandmother ran towards him. 

“My boy…” she whispered, cupping Eren’s face gently in her palms. Her voice cracked as she studied him. “You have your mother’s face… those same strong features. But your eyes..” she smiled through tears,  “those are your father’s. So green and kind.”

Eren swallowed hard, and you saw the tension in his shoulders finally ease as he allowed her touch.

“And you must be the lovely lady who stole our grandson’s heart,” she said warmly, turning to you. “May I?”

You smiled and nodded. She reached forward, resting her hands gently on your stomach, her face glowing. “A great-grandchild,” she whispered in awe, glancing up at her husband. “Can you believe it?”

“I can,” he replied, gruff but clearly emotional. “But let them in.  They must be exhausted.”

The castle doors opened wider, and you were ushered into a grand hall. The inside smelled like aged wood, lilac, and lemon tea. A warm fire crackled in the enormous hearth of the drawing room, where you all sat on deep velvet chairs. Servants appeared silently, placing trays of fresh fruits, delicate sweets, and steaming cups of tea before you.

Eren’s grandparents leaned forward eagerly. “Tell us everything,” his grandfather said. “What was your life like out there, child?”

Eren’s eyes sparkled. “Where do I even begin?”

And so, he began to explain everything. About vine swinging and fruit gathering, the thrill of climbing trees, his daily swims in the lagoon, the calls of birds he could mimic perfectly. You watched him speak animatedly, hands gesturing, voice rising and falling with joy. He was alive in a way that made your heart ache.

His grandparents watched too, his grandmother with her hand over her heart, his grandfather nodding along. But when Eren mentioned Carla and Grisha, the gorillas who raised him  and Mikasa, their joy faded slightly. 

There was a small silence.

His grandfather looked down, then up again, with eyes that were glistening. “Eren… I’m so sorry. That you were left to be raised by… gorillas. That we weren’t there to bring you home. We searched. God knows we searched. But we never found you.”

He turned to you and Armin, his voice thick. “Thank you. Both of you. For finding him. For helping shape him into such a fine young man.”

You shook your head gently. “That credit goes to his family in the jungle. We only helped him adjust to our world. They’re the ones who raised him with love.”

Eren looked down at his hands, then asked, “How did my parents even end up in Africa?”

His grandparents exchanged a long look. Then his grandmother said in a soft voice. “It was their second anniversary. They wanted to travel through Morocco. It was supposed to be a peaceful journey… but then a storm hit. Their boat was caught, driven off course.”

“Grisha and Carla… and a man named Kruger,” his grandfather continued, “were the only ones presumed to have survived. We searched for months. Sent ships. Hired explorers. But… the last letter they sent us was about you. A newborn baby. They asked us to register your birth certificate.”

His voice cracked, and he looked away.

“When the search teams finally arrived where the boat was last seen… they found their bodies. Grisha, Carla, Kruger. But no baby. No sign of you.”

His grandmother reached for Eren’s hand. “We mourned you, Eren. We buried an empty coffin. But now…” Her voice was shaking, “…you’re here.”

Eren reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You gave him a soft squeeze, feeling the pulse of life within your belly between you.

And for the first time, you saw it in Eren’s eyes, the beginning of healing.

His grandmother wiped at her eyes, then leaned toward a small carved chest on the side table. She opened it, delicately pulling out two aged documents.

“We’ve kept these all this time,” she said, “Your birth certificate… and, regretfully, the one that declared you dead.”

Eren unfolded it carefully. His eyes moved slowly across the words, lips parting slightly.

“Eren Jaeger. Born March 30th.”

He blinked. “I… I have a birthday?”

His grandmother leaned in, smiling through tears. “Yes, my dear. You were born on the ship, in the early hours of the morning. Your mother said you didn’t even cry right away. Just looked at her. Calm as ever.”

“And this,” his grandfather added, handing him another piece of paper, “is your death certificate. The one we had issued when we believed you were gone. We’ll be burning it. Tonight.”

You and Armin both leaned over to peek at the birth certificate again.

“He’s twenty-five,” Armin said softly.

Your shoulders dropped as the breath you didn’t realize you were holding escaped you. “Thank God,” you muttered, half-laughing, half-sighing. “You’re two years older than me.”

“Same age as me, huh?” Armin chuckled. 

Eren raised an eyebrow,“Why do you both seem so relieved?”

You gave him a sheepish look, a hint of laughter behind your words. “There’s a story to that…”

You glanced at Armin, who was already grinning because he knew exactly what was coming. Eren turned to you, curious.

You cleared your throat dramatically. “Okay, so on our wedding day, while I was getting ready, Hitch… bless her chaotic soul… joked, ‘What if you're marrying a seventeen-year-old?’”

Eren’s face immediately twisted in mock offense. “Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it gets worse,” you said, holding up a finger. “I panicked. Historia tried to calm me down, saying, ‘He looks like a man,’ but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I made a mental vow that if you were underage, I'd annul the whole thing the second we got back to civilization.”

Armin nearly choked on his tea.

Eren leaned back a little, slightly offended, lips twitching. “I am a man.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek, grinning. “Eren, love… you are a man indeed.”

Then you ran your fingers gently over his smooth jaw and added with a teasing lilt, “But a man with no facial hair.”

Armin burst out laughing. Eren pulled a face, clearly trying not to smile. “Armin…” he grumbled. “Your face is nuder than mine.” You laughed to a point where you thought your water would break. As your blond friend blushed, embarrassed. “Shut up” Armin muttered. 

“So… We found out from Annie that Eren has a brother?” Armin said quickly to change the topic. 

Eren turned to his grandparents, eyes sparkling. “Zeke, right? I’d love to meet him.”

His grandmother’s warm expression wilted into something more pained. His grandfather set down his cup with a quiet sigh.

“Yes… Zeke is your older half-brother,” his grandmother began gently. “Grisha’s firstborn. He was… the result of a very unfortunate circumstance.”

You frowned slightly, listening closely.

“Grisha was young. Barely fifteen,” she continued, “and Dina, Zeke’s mother, was a widow. Without inheritance, desperate for status. She manipulated your father’s kindness. Claimed she needed comfort and shelter.” Her tone tightened. “We tried to intervene. Legally, she couldn’t marry him, but she used that pregnancy to try and force her way into our family.”

Eren blinked, as he was stunned.

“After Grisha and Carla passed,” his grandfather added, “Zeke, Dina and Carla’s families began fighting for control of the estate. Zeke… he’s always wanted the title. The fortune. To be Grand Duke.”

You squeezed Eren’s hand as his shoulders tensed.

Then a voice echoed through the hall.

“Well, well… am I interrupting?”

They turned toward the grand doorway and standing there was Zeke in all his glory.

He stood tall, dressed in a dark tailored coat, his posture relaxed but eyes were overflooded with disdain. His expression twisted into something smug.

The grandmother’s face darkened. “Zeke. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I heard a certain undead brother had surfaced. Thought I’d come visit,” he said, eyes locking with Eren’s.

Eren smiled, rising with a mix of eagerness and caution. “Zeke,” he said, standing up, offering his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Zeke’s expression didn’t shift. He stared at the hand… then turned away from it.

Your blood boiled, but you remained composed. You slid your fingers between Eren’s, gently stroking his palm. His grip tightened slightly.

Zeke’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, I see. You’re the monkey our father made on that shipwreck.”

Eren’s face dropped. 

“Zeke,” his grandmother warned, but he ignored her.

You stood up, you could barely contain your anger. “Watch your mouth.”

Zeke chuckled darkly. “Oh, Eren. This is hilarious. You married one of those ton women. Pretty face, but no title. She proves the rumors…she is aggressive, wild. Are you sure she’s fit to raise a child? It would be a shame to taint the bloodline, wouldn’t it, Grandfather?”

“Zeke!” the grandmother snapped. 

You stepped forward, chest heaving. You could feel the glaze in your eyes, that mix of fury and humiliation.

Eren didn’t say a word.

In one swift motion, Eren grabbed Zeke by the collar and yanked him out of the room. Zeke stumbled as Eren dragged him down the hall and out the mansion doors.

“Eren!” you called, but he was already gone.

You followed as fast as your belly allowed, with the grandmother close behind. Armin and Eren’s grandfather ran ahead, just in time to see Eren slam Zeke into the courtyard wall.

“I tried to be civil, I can handle you not liking me. However, don’t you ever speak about my wife in that manner.” Eren growled, and then his fist collided with Zeke’s jaw.

Zeke cursed, trying to fight back, but Eren landed another blow. And another. Until Armin and his grandfather reached him, pulling him back.

“Let go of me!” Eren shouted, chest heaving, knuckles bloodied.

Zeke stumbled, wiping his mouth, face smeared in red. “You all side with him?” he spat. “You don’t even know him!”

“Leave!” the grandmother thundered. “You’re not welcome here!”

“You choose this jungle Neanderthal to be Grand Duke over me?! I deserve it! Not him!” Zeke barked.

That was your final straw.

“It’s not your birthright!” you shouted. “It’s Eren’s. You’re a bastard, Zeke. Know. Your. Place.”

Zeke’s face froze, utterly stunned. The courtyard was silent.

Without another word, he turned and left, bloodied, humiliated, and alone.

You walked to Eren’s side as the maids rushed out with warm towels. He winced as they dabbed his scraped knuckles.

His grandparents both looked heartbroken. Zeke’s choices lay heavy on their shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” his grandmother whispered. “We should’ve warned you… should’ve stopped him…”

Eren shook his head. “He’s made his choice.”

You sat beside him, one hand on his back, the other resting over your belly.

“He’s not your family,” you said softly. “We are.”

Eren turned, kissed your cheek, and nodded.

That evening, after dinner had settled and the tension from Zeke’s appearance had faded like smoke in the wind, Eren’s grandfather leaned forward in his seat, focusing on his grandson.

“Eren,” he began. “You know why we asked you here, don’t you?”

“Because I’m your grandson?”

The old man gave a soft chuckle. “That’s part of it. But also… I’m ill. I haven’t been able to step into my role for quite some time now. I need someone to take up the mantle. Someone with integrity.” He looked at Eren with a bit of hope. “Do you think you’d be ready to become Grand Duke of our house?”

The room grew still. All eyes turned to Eren.

He blinked once, then scratched the back of his neck before grinning faintly. “If humans are like animals,” he said casually, “driven by self-interest… then I think I’d manage just fine.”

A round of laughter filled the space.

His grandfather smiled wide. “Then it won’t be a problem at all.”

Eren’s expression softened. He glanced at you, then at Armin, and then back to his grandparents.

“I’m not promising anything,” he said. “I don’t even know if I want to stay in Europe yet. My home is… different.”

His grandmother reached for his hand with a nod. “And we’ll respect that, darling. Always.”

“But before you leave,” his grandfather added, rising from his chair, “there’s something we’d like to show you.”

You all stood, following the elderly couple through the lantern-lit path outside the mansion. The night air was cool, crickets singing softly in the grass as the gravel crunched under their feet.

Not far from the estate, nestled in a grove of sleeping trees, stood a wrought-iron gate. Beyond it lay the Jeager family graveyard.

You stopped before two headstones.

“Grisha Jeager,” one read. And beside it: “Carla Jeager.”

Eren’s breath caught.

Your hand found his, squeezing gently.

“They wanted to travel for their anniversary,” his grandmother said quietly. “They were so full of life. I still remember Carla teasing Grisha about being too soft-hearted for adventure.”

Eren knelt slightly, tracing the letters of their names with his fingers. 

Then, beside the two graves, was a smaller stone.

“Eren Jeager,” it read. Born: March 30th Died: Unknown.

Armin blinked, glancing at Eren. Eren raised an eyebrow and side-eyed him, lips twitching slightly.

“I guess I aged well for a dead man,” he muttered under his breath.

His grandfather gave a weary chuckle. “We’ll have that removed first thing tomorrow.”

His grandmother wiped her eyes and smiled. “We thought you were gone… but somehow, the jungle kept you safe.”

You leaned into Eren’s side, hand resting over your stomach. He placed his over yours, quietly honoring the graves with a soft “thank you” only you could hear.

The next morning, as bags were loaded and trunks were secured onto the carriage headed for the harbor, Eren stood with his grandparents one last time.

“England’s next,” his grandmother said with a smile. “But you’ll write to us?”

Eren nodded, pulling her into a tight hug. “Of course.”

His grandfather clapped his shoulder, eyes glassy. “We’re proud of you, boy. No matter where you decide to build your future.”

They stepped back as the carriage rolled forward. From the window, Eren waved. You rested against his shoulder, the soft sway of the carriage beginning the next leg of your journey

The sway of the ship was gentle that night. The room was softly lit, your suitcase tucked under the vanity,  and your half-read book was placed on the bedside table. You lay under the covers, your back supported by a pile of pillows.

Eren knelt at the side of the bed, resting his arms across the mattress and gazing up at you. 

“You want me to stay?” he asked quietly.

You smiled, brushing his unruly baby hairs back toward his man bun. “You should go with Armin.”

“But—”

“Eren,” you interrupted gently. “He’s almost married. You’re almost a father. When will you ever get a night like this again?”

He huffed, “It’ll be boring without you.”

You giggled, shifting slightly under the covers. “I can’t drink anyway. And I’m tired. Honestly, I’m ready for bed.”

Eren leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your belly. He whispered something in gorilla. 

“You’re going to be an amazing father, you know.”

He looked up at you, with a smile on his face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Good night, love.”

He stayed a moment longer, like he didn’t want to leave, then finally pulled away and slipped out the door with a quiet click.

The boat’s bar was dimly lit. Eren and Armin sat in the corner, sipping amber liquor from short glasses. 

Armin was the first to speak. “Have you made your decision yet?”

Eren exhaled through his nose, swirling the drink in his hand. “I’m torn.”

He leaned back, staring into his glass.

“In Africa… our kid could grow up without all the noise. No racism. No boxes to squeeze into. It’s free there, wild and full of life. But…” He paused. “I can’t guarantee they’ll have what I was lucky enough to find. Human contact. A sense of the world outside.”

Armin nodded. 

“I was lucky,” Eren continued. “You and her. You found me. I didn’t even know I needed that. But our child might.”

He looked out the window. “And I’ve seen how she looks at Hitch’s letters.”

Armin shifted slightly.

“She pretends it’s fine. But I know.” Eren’s jaw clenched. “She misses it. Her world. She misses her friends, her job, her old life.”

He took another sip.

“There was a day,” he said, almost to himself now, “when I came back from meeting the Waziri tribe. They gave me this carved necklace to bring back to her. Said it was for protection, and beauty. I was so excited to give it to her.”

“But when I came back to the treehouse, I heard her crying. Hitch had written again. She missed Avery’s baby being born. She missed Bertholdt’s wedding. All because she couldn’t get a boat out fast enough.”

Eren’s throat bobbed.

“She stayed with me… because she loves me. Because I make her happy. But she… she gave up a lot. Maybe she thinks she can’t take it back. Or worse, that I’ll think she’s selfish if she does.”

Armin was silent, his hands wrapped around his drink.

“I assume you already knew,” Eren said quietly.

Armin hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Yeah.”

Eren looked at him.

“I didn’t want to interfere too much in your marriage,” Armin admitted. “I didn’t know if I should say anything.”

“Armin…”

“For what it’s worth,” Armin added, meeting his eyes, “I don’t know what to advise you. Not this time. But whatever decision you make, I’ll support it. I know you’ll do what’s best. For her. For your child.”

Eren looked down at his hands. 

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

The ship docked with a hiss and groan, London’s skyline cutting a striking silhouette against the dawn. The harbor bustled with life, workers shouting, horses pulling carriages, and thick fog curling around cobblestones.

Hitch waved wildly, nearly knocking off her hat. Marlow gave a nervous smile, standing beside Armin’s grandfather, who wore a thick wool coat and a proud glint in his eyes. Avery, elegant in deep purple with a cane tucked into the crook of her arm.

Eren helped you off the ramp, steadying you with one hand on your lower back. Armin followed closely behind, carrying the bags. As soon as your feet touched the ground, Hitch launched herself into a hug, wrapping you tight.

“I missed you so much! You look so—oh, my god, your belly—!”

You laughed, hugging her back. Avery gave you a smile before walking over to Eren.

“Well, if it isn’t the Jungle Duke,” she teased. “Welcome to London.”

Eren gave a sheepish smile. “It’s… big.”

Two days later, Avery and Eren strolled through the cobbled streets, weaving between merchants shouting out fresh bread, newspapers, and roasted chestnuts. Eren’s head turned frequently his wide green eyes drinking in the towering buildings, mechanical carriages, the smell of soot and sugar.

Women whispered as they passed. A few waved, bold and blushing. One even blew him a kiss.

Avery narrowed her eyes, watching Eren carefully.

He didn’t react much at first. Then his eyes landed on another group of women laughing nearby. He squinted, almost studying them.

Avery’s temper began to simmer. “Eren Jeager, don’t you dare—”

Before she could finish, Eren chuckled and said, “I’m really lucky. My wife is extremely beautiful.”

Avery’s mouth clamped shut. Her cheeks burned. “You’re lucky I don’t smack you for the scare.”

He grinned, and she rolled her eyes before linking arms with him. “Come on, jungle prince. Let’s get you some toffee.”

They strolled farther, nearing the square when chaos erupted.

A scream split the air.

Smoke billowed from a building nearby. People shouted, backing away from a three-story inn now engulfed in flames. On the top floor, a child stood on the balcony, screaming for help.

Avery clutched her cane. “Where are the firemen?!”

But Eren was already gone, dashing across the square and up the side of the building. His hands found brick and ledges with ease.  Gasps rose from the crowd.

The girl sobbed, reaching for him.

Within seconds, Eren had hoisted her over his shoulder and began climbing down as flames licked the windowframes.

When he landed, the crowd erupted in cheers.

The girl was safe, she was shaking but was luckly unharmed.

A reporter shoved forward. “Sir, your name?”

He paused, still catching his breath, one hand on the girl’s back.

“Eren… Eren Jeager.”

Meanwhile you and Armin entered the the Parliament building’s grand hall. he room was filled with wealthy women in silks and feathers, many of whom turned with subtle gasps.

You could hear it.

“That’s her.”

“She married the monkey man…”

“I heard he doesn’t even wear shoes.”

“Disgraceful. Filthy.”

One woman even muttered, “And she’s having his child…”

Your face tightened, but Armin gently touched your wrist.

“They don’t know what we know.”

You looked at him. His smile was comforting. 

You exhaled, lifted your chin, and smiled with sharp pride, brushing a hand along the swell of your stomach.

The vote commenced.

And then it was official.

The Ton would now be recognized as noble families, with rights and titles assigned.

It was a landmark vote, centuries of discrimination fading.

The room fell into buzzing gossip. You could already hear it: “The King himself will write… assigning titles…”

Armin leaned over and whispered, “You’ll want to keep your letterbox clear next week.”

You smiled.

And somewhere in the city, Eren Jeager was standing in the street, hair windswept, arms covered in soot, a child clinging to him, and a crowd calling his name.

Armin’s carriage pulled up in front of the townhouse. You stepped out carefully, exhausted from the stressful long day, but your heart lifted the second she saw them.

Eren and Avery were waiting at the door.

Avery gave you a smile as Eren rushed forward, immediately wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your  head. “I missed you,” he murmured. 

“I was only gone a few hours,” you giggled, leaning into his warmth.

But before another word could be said a  sharp pain rippled through you You inhaled suddenly, freezing in place.Then your eyes widened as the warmth beneath you shifted, and water pooled at your feet.

“Avery…” you gasped, clutching Eren’s arm.

Avery’s eyes went wide. “Oh heavens! Your water just broke!”

“What?” Eren looked between you in panic. “What does that mean? Is it happening? Now?”

“Yes, now, Eren!” Avery said, gripping his shoulders. “Get her inside!”

Eren carried you carefully inside, his heart pounding aggressively. Armin was already sprinting back toward the street, calling for Dr. Hange.

He flung open the front door just as Hitch and Marlow appeared, holding a celebratory bouquet.

“We came to congratu—”

“Her water broke!” Armin shouted as he dashed past them.

Hitch’s eyes widened. “Oh my—go, go, go!” she urged Marlow, who ran after Armin, tripping over his own feet.

Eren helped lower you onto the bed, brushing your braid from your face as Avery issued instructions to the maids. “Warm water, towels, and clear the room!”

But just as Eren went to stay by your side, Hitch placed a firm hand on his chest. “Eren… I know this is different from how it’s done in the jungle, but… you can’t be in there. Not here. Not now.”

“What? But she needs me, she’s scared. I need to be with her.”

“You’ll do more harm than good in their eyes,” Avery said gently, coming to his side. “Let us take care of her. You’ll see her soon, I promise.”

Eren was in disbelieve but he stepped back reluctantly, shaking knowing that he isn’t amongs gorillas anymore. In his mind, he saw the gorilla females of the jungle, huddled in nests while their mates kept watch, breathing low grunts of comfort. He wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to hold you while you brought your child into the world.

But he sat outside the room, the walls between them suddenly feeling impossibly thick. Your screams pierced him. 

Eren’s hands dug into his knees. His leg bounced furiously.

Hitch sat beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, Eren. Stronger than most women I know.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But I hate hearing her in pain.”

Then your screaming stopped.

Replaced by a new smaller cry. 

Eren froze.

The door opened, and Avery’s soft voice cut through the haze. “Come in. He’s ready to meet you.”

Eren stepped in like he was stepping into a a sacred temple.

He felt relaxed when he saw you lay in the bed, sweat damp on your forehead, your braids clinging to your skin, but you were glowing. More beautiful than ever. In your arms, wrapped in a white linen blanket, was something impossibly small, squirming softly.

You looked up at Eren, smiling weakly. “Do you want to meet him?”

He didn’t speak as his throat too tight. He crossed the room with slow, hesitant steps, eyes locked on the bundle in your arms.

And then you passed him over.

Eren sat on the edge of the bed, and his arms instinctively cradled the baby as if he’d always known how.

The little boy blinked slowly, face scrunched, a faint whimper leaving his lips before settling into silence.

Eren’s heart cracked open.

His fingers trembled as they brushed the child’s soft cheek. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, eyes shining with quiet disbelief and devotion.

“He’s… he’s perfect,” Eren whispered.

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“What should we name him?” you asked softly.

Eren didn’t hesitate.

“…Grisha,” he murmured. “After my fathers.”

The baby stirred slightly, as if approving.

And Eren whispered something low and gentle in Gorilla tongue, a promise, that he would be a better man than he ever dreamed possible. For both you and your son Grisha. 

The candlelight flickered gently against the windows as the maids moved in practiced silence, preparing the sitting room for Lord Armin Artlet’s return. When the front door opened, soft and steady, Annie was already seated in the parlor, one leg crossed over the other, her expression unreadable as she stared down at a paper in her lap.

Armin entered with a tired sigh, shrugging off his coat and loosening the tie at his throat. “You’re here,” he said warmly, voice tinged with fatigue but affection.

“I told you I would be,” Annie replied, her voice soft and a little distant.

Armin noticed the untouched tea by her hand. “Did something happen?” he asked as he took his usual seat across from her.

The maids entered, placing fresh tea and lemon cakes between them on the table, then retreating to the corners of the room in silence.

Annie didn’t respond right away. Her pale eyes remained locked on the newsletter in her lap. Then she looked up, slow and almost cautious, and held it out to him.

“You might want to read this.”

Armin took the paper, unfolding it with a raised brow, until his gaze fell on the front page.

"LONDON'S MYSTERIOUS HERO: FOREIGNER SCALES BURNING BUILDING TO SAVE CHILD."

A large woodblock illustration showed a man atop a burning balcony, a child clutched in his arms, the fire licking just behind him. Below the image in bold, stylized font read:

“Ape-Man or Angel? London’s Darling of the Day — Eren Jeager”

Armin froze.

The familiar figure drawn in broad ink strokes his man bun windswept, face calm yet wild in the way only Eren could be, holding the girl like she weighed nothing at all.

Armin’s hand shook.

A drop of tea spilled from the edge of his untouched cup.

Then another.

And another.

The warm trickle met the polished hardwood floor until one of the maids gasped.

“Lord Artlet!” she cried, hurrying forward with a cloth.

But Armin didn’t hear her.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

He just stared at the name in print, his lips slightly parted.

“Is this what he was upto while we were gone for less than two hours?!” Armin said in disbelief. 

It’s been a week since your birth. The gilded double doors swung open with ceremonial precision. The marble hall gleamed under chandeliers, and the scent of lavender and polished brass filled the air. Courtiers stiffened, whispering behind silken fans as the footman stepped forward, voice ringing through the grand chamber.

“The Grand Duke of Balden, Lord Eren Jeager, and Mrs.Y/N L/N with their son.”

You walked beside Eren with practiced grace, your gown flowing like silk rain. He stood tall beside you,the golden threads on his cuffs his grandfather gifted him glinting with each step. The ton stared in hushed awe.

They had expected a wild beast. Instead, they saw a breathtaking young man. 

“That’s him?” “Not a cave man at all…” “They say he saved a child from a burning building.” “And those shoulders… divine.”

At the throne’s base, Queen Charlotte observed it all with her ever-perceptive gaze. She was a vision in peacock silk and diamonds, her towering white hair adorned with sapphires and her expression straight until her lips curved into a knowing smile.

You both knelt before her, before you said. 

“Your Majesty. The King is healthy, per usual.”

The Queen nodded slowly, her expression softening.

“Indeed. He is… as ever.”

You knew what those words meant,  the quiet truth veiled behind polite tradition. You knew the lore, knew of the King’s illness, of the love that endured through the madness. You had grown up within these palace walls. Played on those marble floors while the Queen and your mother sipped tea and spoke of justice.

Charlotte’s eyes were still on you, as they turned warm. 

“I was very fond of your mother,” she said.  “You were just a little thing, running through the palace halls with your ribbons undone and questions spilling from your mouth.”

Laughter rippled gently through the court.

“Your mother was a fierce advocate,” the Queen continued. “She fought for the ton to have equal rights within the aristocracy. She fought so daughters could inherit what their fathers left behind. And now…” her gaze shifted to your son, cradled in your arms, “her legacy breathes again.”

And then… the Queen’s tone turned teasingly sharp.

“And here you are. Standing proud, having carried and delivered a child conceived by a man who once lived among monkeys.”

Giggling erupted from behind embroidered fans. Eren stiffened for a second,  until your hand found his behind your backs and gave him a gentle squeeze.

He exhaled slowly. He trusted you. He knew from what you told him, the Queen’s tongue was sharp, but not cruel.

“Stand,” she commanded.

You both rose, and her runner boy, Marco, appeared with a velvet cushion.

Queen Charlotte lifted the golden emblem,  a crest that shimmered like captured sunlight.

“This,” she said, “was meant for your father. But God claimed him too soon. Yet, what he sacrificed for this crown will never be forgotten.”

She stepped forward and pinned the emblem over your heart.

“Today, I name you Duchess of Sussex. A manor awaits your family there, passed down by royal hand. No matter where in the world you roam… Sussex will be your sanctuary.”

Your breath hitched, tears catching in your lashes. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” you whispered.

She turned then to Eren, studying him thoughtfully.

“And you… London’s latest hero. Has your wife not yet heard of your rooftop escapades?”

You blinked, confused. “What escapades?”

The Queen smiled.

“Why, scaling a burning building to save a child, of course. A spectacle. They say you climbed like a panther in a storm.”

Eren flushed, murmuring humbly, and the court all but erupted in whispers.

“He’s not only beautiful, he’s brave?” “A wild prince with a noble heart.” “Oh, to be saved by him.”

Queen Charlotte leaned in just slightly.

“Y/N, do you know what I deem most classless?”

You smiled, reciting her favorite lesson:

“A lady drooling over a married man.”

Gasps. More flushed cheeks. And not a single woman dared meet the Queen’s eyes.

Her smile sharpened, then softened as she turned back to Eren.

“Now, Lord Jeager,” she said, her tone more serious, “I suggest you take time to reflect. Decide where your family belongs. In the jungle, where you were shaped… or here, among civilization, where you now shape others. Do right by them. Not by your desires.”

Then, as if remembering a private joke, she muttered under her breath:

“Grisha Jeager…”

Eren’s head tilted at the name.

The Queen rolled her eyes playfully.

“That little punk never could’ve created someone so devastatingly beautiful. Must be your mother’s work.”

Eren’s eyes lit up with something soft. 

And then it was time.

You turned, bowing once more.

“Thank you again, Your Majesty.” The Queen then responded “ No thank you, from the Crown,  to the Grand Duke of Balden… and the Duchess of Sussex  or shall I say, the Grand Duchess of Balden. ” You glanced at your husband with pride.

With heads held high and a son cradled between you, the two of you walked out  no longer whispers of scandal, but as a respected power couple. 

The jungle had a different sound now, five years later. The calls of exotic birds were laced with the laughter of children. 

Under the generous shade of a banyan tree near the lagoon, you sat cross-legged, sunlight dancing through the canopy above you. The faint breeze made the corners of your paperwork flutter as you finished signing off on the new extension to Eren’s estate,  a preservation order for a dense stretch of jungle bordering the lagoon. A sacred place for your husband,  one he can retreated to when courtly life in Europe becomes overwhelming.

He had adjusted better than anyone expected,  not just to civilization, but to leadership. As Grand Duke of Balden, Eren was known as a fair, instinctive, and deeply empathetic ruler. The people adored him. Nobles respected him. And despite the politics, the pomp, and the rigid structures of nobility, he never lost the gentleness and kindness of the jungle that had first drawn you to him.

You set the last papers aside and pulled out a fresh file,  applications for piano tutors and private instructors for your children. Grisha, now five, and Phoebe, four, were both curious and energetic. Both had inherited their father’s balance and physical confidence  and perhaps your sharp tongue and intellegence.

Just as your pen hit the parchment, you paused, catching a chorus of giggles carried on the wind.

Laughter.

You turned toward the sound and smiled.

Across the lagoon, swinging from thick vines like acrobats of nature, were Grisha, Phoebe, and their cousin Mark, Jean and Mikasa’s eldest. Their shrieks of joy filled the air as they let go of the vines and plunged into the clear blue water below.

And with them,  their father.

Eren emerged first, hair slicked back, droplets clinging to his lashes. Phoebe surfaced second, splashing wildly until Eren scooped her up effortlessly into his arms.

“Any bruises?” he asked, looking her over with the focused intensity of a seasoned girl dad.

“I’m fine, papa!” she grinned. “I’m not as fragile as mama.”

You narrowed your eyes from your spot under the tree, and Phoebe immediately froze. A sheepish look crossed her little face.

“Sorry, mama,” she muttered.

Eren threw his head back and laughed.

He carried Phoebe toward you while Grisha and Mark chased each other in the water. 

As Eren approached, he lowered his head and kissed your temple, his arm slipping easily around your shoulder.

“You’re working too hard,” he murmured.

“I’m making sure you get more trees,” you replied, arching a brow. “The Grand Duke needs his forest.”

He smiled,  that boyish smile that still caught you off guard after all these years.

“I already have everything I need,” he said, eyes tracing the curve of your cheek, then landing gently on your lap where the papers lay. “But the trees are nice too.”

You leaned into him. Behind you, the children played, and somewhere deeper in the trees, the hum of drums signaled evening preparations from the tribe. Mikasa, now the official chieftess, would later meet with Eren to consult about shared stewardship of the jungle lands  a role she held with both grace and occasional frustration.

You had made a life,  not just across continents, but across worlds. From the halls of Buckingham to the vines of the jungle. From royal titles to tribal fires. You danced between them all, raising children who knew how to bow before a queen and how to climb a tree barefoot.

And at the heart of it all, your dearest Eren. Once led by instinct, now guided by love.

🏷️: @faerie-soirxx

[104cadetlauren]

ARMIN CHOSE TO TELL HIS TRUTH AND THAT MADE ALL THE DIFFERENCE

Towards the end of Attack on Titan Season 4, the long-awaited ships, AruAni, EreMika, and LeviHan—each faced a similar emotional crossroads, though at different points in the story. These moments revolved around a single question: would they finally confront and acknowledge the feelings they had kept buried for so long? Each pair had previously deflected their emotions for different reasons.

1. AruAni - Annie was crystallized and unreachable for much of the series,

2. EreMika - Eren was consumed by his drive to kill all the titans and later for the search of freedom.

3. LeviHan - Both Levi and Hange consistently chose duty over personal connection, prioritizing the sacrifices of their comrades above all else.

This narrative parallel added emotional depth to the finale, highlighting the human cost of war, duty, and unspoken truths.

If these characters were able to deflect their feelings for the past 3 seasons, then what changed? It’s simple, in Season 4 the stakes were higher and survival is not definite more than ever. (Even compared during the titans were their only enemies). Heck, even Levi was nerfed so no one’s safe during S04.

Hence the characters’ vulnerabilties were shown.

So back to the confrontations of feelings.

Let’s start with EreMika.

When Eren asked Mikasa "What am I to you? Mikasa hesitated, then she went on to say "You are family." in a sense it was true, but it was not her only truth, Eren was more than a family, additionally, that's not the answer that would make Eren stay, but of course Mikasa was not aware on the extent of Eren’s future plans.

As for Levi, when he was asked by Hange "Shall we live here, just the two of us?" Levi chose to answered with "If we keep running and hiding...what will that get us?" and when he saw the carriage Hange was fixing, continued with, "I know you...you're not able to stay out of action."

He did not reject her proposal but he reminded her who she really is, and he supports her decision and she does not need to explain herself to him. Together, they chose to keep fighting rather than run. It was a clear, rational choice, but it wasn’t Levi’s only truth.

The Ackerman parallels.

Mikasa and Levi who both hesitated to tell the truth when they were confronted by it.

Because of that, Eren and Hange's decision were shaped by the answers they received from Mikasa and Levi. Those questions were crucial in Eren and Hange’s next decisions (spoiler alert, they both sadly died)

But when Armin was faced with the same situation, He chose to say his truth.

When he was confronted by it, he didn’t hesitate to tell Annie the truth. Shy, yes—but not hesitant. He didn’t think of their fallen comrades. He didn’t stop to wonder if it was selfish to speak of feelings, even as the world was being destroyed by The Rumbling. He didn’t believe that him and Annie coming to terms with how they felt would hinder their mission.

He continued to fight even if Annie chose to stay behind. Armin chose to say his truth because he does not want to have any regrets. No matter what happens with the battle with Eren, at least he was able to tell his truth. And it was worth it, because of Annie’s reaction to his confession, he got his answer. Annie did reciprocate his feelings.

Annie's next decision, even is not solely based on Armin's answer, but it was influenced by it. Annie’s decision to stay behind was now final and she has no doubts about it now. She does not want to fight anymore and she doesn't want to see any of the alliance get hurt, specially Armin so it finalized her decision not to fight anymore. (Yes she decided to fight again, but that was because the discovered Falco's ability to fly and Armin was taken.)

Imagine what would happen if Armin deflected the question or he had other thoughts than just saying his truth.

For Armin, choosing the truth is not selfish, even if Annie said that it does not feel right to talk about their feelings while The Rumbling was happening but it did not stop him.

For Levi and Mikasa, they both missed the chance. And those missed chances will then lead to them loosing the people they deeply care about.

I wonder, even if the chances of living their dreams of having a peaceful life with the people they love were slim, even futile—what might have happened if Mikasa and Levi had chosen to speak the truth? Would it save Eren and Hange? Or were they always meant to lose them, no matter what they said?

[charcubed]

I watched Sinners in IMAX a few days ago.

I saw it after a long work day and basically had a religious experience.

My friend and I talked about it in the parking lot for an hour, and then I got home at 11:30pm and fell asleep with my phone in my hand at 1AM while writing down my thoughts about it in a doc (at the request of another friend). I took a half day off of work the next day to sleep in and wrote for 4 more hours, then finished cleaning up the doc a couple days later.

So here's about 4,000 words (?!?!) of my thoughts on this incredible fucking masterpiece of a movie.

Certainly not expecting anyone to read this but I do want to put it here for myself :) Because this is how I have fun for some reason!

Disclaimers:

I’m not Black so I’m obviously discussing topics outside the realm of my experience / culture and could be completely off the mark on anything. Apologies in advance if I am. I also assume I’m not the first to say any of this analysis.

These are my initial thoughts and interpretations before deep-diving or Googling or reading interviews about this movie! (That's my rule.) Just from my brain’s first watch and my limited knowledge of history and sociology.

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

-I cannot fucking wait to rewatch this movie with subtitles someday because I know for a FACT I missed some things.

-I liked how Stack drove the red car and Smoke drove the blue truck :) so cute. I was like yaaayyy, hammer home this visual separation so I can get a sense of them as individual people before we keep going, thank you <3 so many good framing and color and lighting choices throughout this movie that foreshadowed things too!

-Lowkey I totally get why people probably want sequels and spinoffs of this universe to learn more lore, but I felt very content with where it left us. The themes/subtext are so strong and so well-executed that the story feels fairly complete in that regard to me because it had things to say and said them well. Not to say the metaphors couldn’t be continued in more storytelling and worldbuilding, obviously, and I’d eat it up if they did decide to do it… But I also think what we got feels fairly satisfying to me.

-However: WHERE IS MY CHOCTAW NATION VAMPIRE HUNTERS SPINOFF. GODDAMN!!! Also love how we get them for literally 3 minutes and they embody every aspect of this movie’s messaging perfectly. Insanely cool shit

Okay anyway

-The opening intro makes such a bold claim about how the music we’re about to hear that’s so incredibly beautiful. It talks of music that transcends time and holds so much power it attracts outside dark forces. And then… when Sammie first plays and opens his mouth to sing… Stack’s reaction is our reaction in the audience, because that claim is immediately upheld as believable. You immediately believe the folklore’s validity because of his skills. Astonishing feat. Holy fucking shit. God I love blues music

-The opening sets up the unsubtle thesis, but then Slim’s story in the car (and its beautiful sound design!!!) after they see the slaves take encouragement / heart through music underscores it all. It felt like a powerful tool to further set up a grounding for the supernatural we were about to see play out, and a reminder of its intended metaphors. Slim’s brother was a blues player who was lynched for the crime of simply existing in his Black joy and trying to get to make a bigger life for himself, and (as Annie later tells Smoke) money was no true power that could save him. In fantasy and reality, when people of color are just living with authentic joy by enjoying their own unique culture and music and lives, it attracts white supremacists who want to gleefully, hatefully leech from or destroy all of it.

-And then Ryan Coogler really was like, “Just in case you missed this movie’s unsubtle messages, we are going to be loud.” The way the vampire fight isn’t the final violence or the point… God. Instead, we end on the justified KKK slaughter. The real klan, the actual reason all of this happened because they set it up, the start of it all and the white supremacy that fuels the darkness. It says, These are the true monsters, and don’t you fucking forget it.

-But, our plot’s main monster is REMMICK. He’s no Southern white man. He’s specifically Irish! I fucking love that they did this. So much nuance here. Remmick has been isolated from his own people, heritage, and language through colonialism and the rise of the Baptist Christian church. Cornbread tells him (and the 2 Klan members…) that there are plenty of other spaces for them and their banjo music, and while of course he’s right – Black people (and POC in general) deserve their own safe spaces of expression, and too often white people are trying to encroach on those – for Remmick, there’s sadness here too. Those other white spaces are not his spaces either. He’s Irish and Celtic; they’re not his culture. He’s adrift and has no place, disconnected from his home, Othered by being an Irishman and a vampire, and the loss of his own culture and family has him desperately seeking attachment to others’ – but in the worst way. His fate is what he now violently forces onto others. While he ostensibly hates the KKK, he aligns with them indiscriminately in search of connection and his own survival, and he essentially helps them achieve their goal of destroying Black people – a mirror to how, in history, Irish people benefitted from white supremacy for their survival at the expense of Black people. (And a mirror, of course, to how white people broadly try to steal from Black culture daily.) Remmick’s message is basically “just assimilate and be free,” simultaneously asking them (especially Sammie) to assimilate into his culture for his sake because it’s what he needs, yet assimilation is clearly its own form of entrapment and death. It’s a tragedy that it was what Remmick was faced with as an Irishman, but it’s a larger inexcusable tragedy that he turned around and decided to perpetuate the same cycle of violence onto others in alliance with white supremacy.

-Of course, we see this most in the contrast between the music ensembles (and holy shit, SHOUT OUT TO THE ASPECT RATIO CHANGES IN THESE!!! Religious experience!!!). Sammie’s “I Lied to You” blues music is transformative and joyful, inspiring multicultural connection and appreciation that honors history and genres. It’s filled with warmth and life, and is perhaps even a hopeful depiction of the true melting pot of America. But Remmick’s “Rocky Road to Dublin” song with the vampires he’s turned has everyone washed out, looking and sounding homogeneous in a sinister way, blending together in the perfect terrifying depiction of what assimilation does. Individuality and different cultures are gone; there is now only this, powered by the violence of whiteness. Remmick’s supposed position being “We believe in equality” is of course a farce, and though he’s not motivated by racism (like the KKK), he has no qualms with aligning with its results. More importantly, his enforced assimilation in the name of supposed equality brings to mind the harmful modern adages of “I don’t see color” and other similar positionings which erase differences in culture rather than honor them. Add to that the moments where Remmick showcases having the memories and skills of people he’s turned, who are now all “connected” to each other but in a way where they’ve lost all individuality. When he speaks Chinese, it’s a moment of horror because it’s a language he didn’t learn for genuine connection but rather stole for cultural appropriation, and then he specifically uses it as a tool of violence (and threats of sexual assault!) against Grace.

-ANNIE. I find it fascinating how she kind of embodies the movie’s critique of the Christian church and evangelism as a tool of white supremacy to placate Black Americans and encourage or enforce assimilation. Annie practices (to my knowledge) hoodoo, occult magic from African culture and a form of spirituality that Christians would obviously deem evil and sinful. But here, her mojo bags and ancestral knowledge are the only things that keep anyone safe. (Notably, Christian crosses did nothing for protection.) She’s another layer to the concepts of being in touch with your culture and ancestors… and she chooses death rather than turning/assimilation or losing her sense of identity. I couldn’t help but think about the history of African slaves jumping overboard from ships because they chose to die on their own terms rather than live in enslavement.

-SLIM. He’s the Black elder who’s seen and experienced and survived horrendous, evil things. Yet despite it all, he’s the comedic relief of the movie. While Slim drinks to repress the trauma (which is objectively not the most healthy decision and it’s constantly pointed out), it doesn’t compromise his connection to his music or to his people. Despite everything, he’s still filled with joy and good humor and wisdom – something that feels very true to life in regards to the fortitude of so many Black elders. And when push comes to shove, he puts his life and body on the line to be ripped to shreds (not assimilated!) by the destructive forces coming for his culture and his people in an attempt to protect them. I fucking loved him.

-MARY. She’d be considered Black by the One-Drop Rule / Jim Crow laws, and she’s grown up in this community, but… she’s not really Black. She feels Othered by that, yes, and it was a natural continuation (to me) to know that was going to result in her becoming a vampire in the plot. Of course there’s a level of sympathy to be given to her and her situation, in the sense that she’s also a victim of segregation, as anyone in an interracial relationship was. She just wanted to live with the man she loves but society wasn’t structured to allow that. But at the end of the day, she still had safety in the ways she was able to move through the world as a white woman — and power. (Stack tells Sammie not to look at her at the train station; if white people claim a Black man looked at a white woman the wrong way, it can turn into a lynching.) It’s notable that Mary is able to go speak to the white people/vampires with less perceived risk to her in ways none of the Black people could… and then she’s also able to be metaphorically turned to their way of seeing things. It’s not an accident that she’s the first turned, then them letting her in and Smoke fucking her is what kickstarts their collective downfall. Mary was a “safe” white person for her Black family all their lives, until abruptly she wasn’t. A too true-to-life tragic possibility.

-PEARLINE. She’s a bold, unapologetic Black woman connected to her culture who chooses her own freedom and authenticity vs Christian traditionalism. A sinner through “infidelity” – a word which can mean being unfaithful to a partner, or unfaithful to religious/Christian belief. And she dies because of it.

-[Side note: super interesting to see the scene of Pearline’s musical beats being timed with the violence of Smoke and the other men killing a guy who was threatening the haven of solidarity and community they’d built. A commentary on being distracted by in-fighting while the real enemy and evil of white supremacy is on the move]

-GRACE. The embodiment of how, when shit is going down, POC solidarity can crumble. At the start, we see her and her family being on “both sides” with the white and Black stores, and able to cross between those 2 stark worlds/realities with ease. “We didn’t sign up for this,” Grace says, when the evil white people come for the Black people; the fun and the culture, but not the fight. Then she makes the selfish and individualized decision to let the evil in at the expense of everyone else. And yet… Her name. Grace. Does the story want us to grant her a little bit of it? I’d argue Smoke gives her grace, because he includes her and her husband in his fond and motivating memories of the earlier parts of the day. Is what Grace does defendable? No, but perhaps it’s meant to be understandable. In the moment, she’s not thinking of saving her own skin or uselessly trying to save her husband; she’s thinking of wanting to protect her daughter and the rest of the town, so instead of choosing passivity, she opts to protect them by addressing and destroying the monsters head-on so they can’t continue their evil mission. But unfortunately, in another example of lack of solidarity, she goes straight to destroy her husband and her fight stops there regardless of everyone else’s fight. Her vindictive revenge turns into mutual destruction because she burns up with him. And she’s perhaps also an example of how when someone is so focused on being combative with a person who broke their tradition they forget to focus on what they still have to protect.

-Speaking of names… lol. CORNBREAD. Obviously there was intentional comedic relief happening in the scene where he’s pissing in the woods and monsters are hidden around him whispering “Is that cornbread?” lmaaaooo but also… Not just silliness! Cornbread is historical food for survival and resilience that has roots in several different cultures. It stems from making something from very little under the forces of oppression and enforced famine, and it’s what the Indigenous people, Black Southern Americans, and the Irish all made. Something that should be or could be a source of connection and a way to let each other in (as he was the doorman!), but instead becomes another tool of violence and of a right vs wrong way to be.

-SMOKE. Violence as protection, and a burden to be shouldered for tenderness and love. He killed his father to protect Stack. He killed Annie because she asked him to. He sent Sammie away to face and kill the KKK men by himself, knowing he might be killing himself in the process. I think of the scene where he’s dying and Annie in the afterlife is watching him while holding their child. As Smoke unloads bullets into the dying klan member, she doesn’t flinch at his violence, and neither do we as the audience. It’s righteous and justified, and in the very next moment, he holds his daughter softly. The violence stands in contrast to his connection to his brother and lover and daughter, but it’s not antithetical to it or a threat to it. Defense of Black culture – and Black masculinity itself – is not inherently violent. Smoke is not his violent father; he broke that cycle too. He is tender and loving, and it’s the reason for his protectiveness and informs his violence that’s directed outward in defense of his family, and especially at the vampires and white supremacists. There’s also something to be said for how Smoke has these violent skills and weapons because he was a soldier in WWI. He served a country that treats him and his people as less than human. And Grace even tells him, “Aren’t you a soldier?” Yes, he was. He shouldn’t have to be at home. And yet, this too is a war, with him and his people being constantly besieged when all they want is peace. Along those lines: At first, Smoke thought that money could be a form of power, to the point of nearly slipping into valuing it more than community when it came down to payment for drinks at the juke joint. But he internalizes and learns especially from Annie that money can’t save you; money didn’t save Slim’s brother who was lynched, and the twins throwing money at a Klan member for the juke joint didn’t stop them from pulling up to their door. Smoke comes to fully learn that All we have is family, community, and our traditions, and we can’t let them take that. Perhaps that’s also part of the reason why he couldn’t kill Stack in the end, instead killing Remmick (as he killed their father) to give Stack his best chance at freedom.

-SMOKE & STACK. The older brother looking at his now-wayward younger brother who suddenly feels like a different person. The twin who looks at his mirrored self and doesn’t recognize who he sees anymore. Who is Stack now? Did Smoke fail him? But there’s something in Stack that is still him, even though he’s forever changed, and ultimately Smoke can’t destroy that. From one sibling to another, it’s the thought of “I can’t abide by or agree with what you’ve become but I can’t destroy you either.” There’s no me without you in the sense that we’re forever tied, but also in the sense that we were instrumental in making each other who we are, for better and worse.

-“ELIJAH MOORE” VS “STACK.” Names are powerful. Smoke’s real name is used in the end as a nod to the connections to his history and roots, and also to his truest self, which he reunites with just as he reunites with Annie, their child, and spirituality in death. Contrast this with Stack, who is going by his nickname in perpetuity – a half name that’s forever cut off from Smoke as the other half, and a disconnect from his old self he’s buried. In the end credit scene, STACK is seen on his ring and visually tied to stacks of money under his hand, aka empty power at high cost. It’s a sad reversal of Stack’s prior thoughts on community and people being more important than profit, when he and Annie were united at the juke joint in pushing back against Smoke’s pursuit of “American dollars.”

-SAMMIE and “This Little Light of Mine.” My goodness. At the start of the movie, Sammie’s preacher father wanted him to sing gospel as a way to lead others in the church, but he never gets to in the context/timeline of the movie. We only hear the choir singing it in the opening instead without Sammie’s involvement. But then, the final credits scene: Sammie has his guitar, which we know doesn’t exist anymore because it’s the guitar he used to fight off demons (literal and metaphorical), and now he’s singing it as a blues song. Did he sing it in church at an earlier point before the events of the movie? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. What matters is this: Sammie’s preacher father tried to give him an ultimatum. Put down the guitar; put down the blues music and the dancing and the sex; put down the sinning. It all attracts darkness, so come back to church and return to the Lord. Be pure. The Christian church, explicitly used as a tool of oppression that benefits white supremacy. But even after the horrors and trauma Sammie experiences – some of which he even draws in through his music (and metaphorically his “sinning”), which is not his fault – Sammie won’t let it go. He can’t. It’s who he is, and it’s his culture and connection to his ancestors, and there’s nothing sinful about any of it. The music, the dancing, the fucking, or anything else. It’s all beautiful, and the embracing of it all then necessitates (because of his father’s ultimatum) a level of rejection of the church in order to continue to live. But despite all of that… The church (and perhaps some redefined aspect of faith) is still a part of him and his culture too. He carries it with him, which is a relatable notion for many people who were raised religious and either chose to walk away or were forced to because of the inherit ultimatums in its restrictions. And so: Sammie had been told to lead and use his music to shine his little light all around the world. It may not be for the church or in the way his father wanted, but by God, he still went out and did just that. In his way, on his terms, without forgetting where he came from.

-Sammie stands in church at the start of the movie. His pastor father has been pushing, Give me the blues guitar. Rejoin our congregation. Sing gospel. Sammie stands in church and it’s intercut with flashbacks of Remmick attacking him. Give me your music. Join our clan. Sing Irish folk songs for me. And yeah, Sammie’s grip on that blues guitar stays real tight.

-[Side note, mostly kidding: all vampire stories could do with a bit of queerness. As merely a fun exercise, if I was choosing to make one aspect of this movie queer in a way that naturally further services the themes… I’d make Pearline a man. Have Sammie be a “sinner” in another dramatic sense by making him queer. What if on the best day of his life in the juke joint, he connects with another man through music and then fucks a man? Much to think about. But there’s a lot going on in this movie already of course, in a specific historical context. And people would’ve gotten too distracted from the various core messages about race and culture (because no one can be normal about seeing queer stuff and understanding intersectionality). But hey, that would’ve hit! And would’ve fit. Just an interesting and extremely unnecessary what if in the privacy of my own mind.]

-STACK (& MARY). Still alive, but dead inside. How good is the life they lead? Stack, when trying to convince Smoke to join the vampire clan, referred to the assimilation they were experiencing as a form of freedom because of the (tangential-to-whiteness) power. But not only is that freedom untrue and filled with conditions, it also comes at a high cost. Eternally separated from their family, divorced from culture, their old selves and lives dead and gone, with no one but Sammie left to remember who they really were. Frozen, adrift, unable to move on or grow. But here’s the thing: was it their fault? Both Mary and Stack’s turnings were nonconsensual. Their disconnection from and erasure of their culture was nonconsensual, and they became Different before they realized what was happening. Remmick is killed and they’re free of his influence and control now, but where does that leave them anyway? They’re still ostracized and left out in the cold, and can’t be let back in unless someone lets them in, which no one is inclined to do – except for Sammie. In Stack and Mary, we see the cost of leaving your cultural roots behind, or (more accurately) having them taken from you violently, forcefully, or through the inescapable encroaching influences of colonialism and white supremacy. As foreshadowed by Sammie’s question to Mary in the juke joint: what are they now? They’re something Other, trying to make their space in the world, and dressed not dissimilarly to the genres of music seen when Sammie’s blues transcended time. So maybe they’re trying to make their own spaces work. But in particular… Stack can’t fit with the white humans, and he can also never go home. Yet he and Mary long for home and for culture, and make an attempt to reconnect with it – which, incredibly, Sammie allows. Sammie is now (visually) the elder who lets the wayward young people back in. He literally embraces Stack – and I think it’s key that he doesn’t embrace Mary. Stack and Mary may be together, but the ways in which they’ve been changed and the disconnect they’re experiencing is undeniably different, because Stack is Black and Mary is not. Its relevance can’t be ignored. This moment and this culture is not hers in the same way. Sammie takes a last parting shot at that point and hammers the themes home by changing the lyrics of his “Travelin’”: I don't know why in the hell I'm here, because the woman I'm lovin', you know she really don’t care. Fully justified? Slightly unfair to her trauma? Maybe mostly the former and a tiny bit of the latter, and heartbreakingly understandable regardless.

[sinners4ever]

Pretty as a Magnolia

Pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Magnolia Black!Oc Smoke x Magnolia Black!Oc (platonic)

Content|Warning(s): 18 plus, SMUT, sexual tension, wandering hands, fluff, smut , flirting, mentions of violence, blood and gore, fingering, oral fem! receiving

Summary: Magnolia and Stack are learning the dynamic of their relationship as they navigate living with one another. Everything seems to be going smoothly as they get into a rhythm with each other, but danger is lurking right around the corner.

Chapter Two: The Ties Between Us

Stack, Smoke, and Magnolia living together was an easy transition for her. She did basically everything she had back at home with her father, but now she was in good hands; safe. She was a bit shy the first few weeks being around a man that made her weak in the knees every-time he got close to her. Every small touch or brief passing made her heart flutter. She cooked for them and basically ran the home while they handled business. During the weekends she spent her time with the brothers at the juke joint and honestly this was the most fun she’d had since being here.

Today was an easy Sunday morning, Elijah, Annie and Elias hadn’t yet awakened and Magnolia was up bright and early making breakfast. The smell of sizzling country ham filled Elias’s senses and he woke up lazily carrying himself into the kitchen where he saw her there. Pretty as a summer sunrise. Her curls were pinned back into a low bun. Curls loose over her forehead while an apron was tied around her waist. She was focused on the pancakes she was making with a bit of the dry ingredients on the tip of her nose. He smiled at how at home she looked, how her at peace she was doing something so simple. She slowly walked in wrapping his arms around her small waist pulling her into him. “Goodmornin’, honey, it smells good in here, baby. You made all this for me?” His morning voice was rough and low and the warmth of his breath against her neck sent chills down her spine. She leaned into him naturally and he kissed the crook of her neck sweetly. “Actually, I made it for everyone in the house but I have your plate all ready for ya’ at the table.”, he looked back to see his plate with steam rolling off the food and smiled pulling her in closer. His hands gripping her hips and it caused her breath to hitch slightly. He chuckled at her reaction and slowly let his face fall into the crook of her neck. “You know you’re so beautiful, baby? Sweet as molasses I could eat you up right here.”

She was silent, but the way her chest rose and fell let him know how he made her body react. She gulped loudly as his right hand slowly eased down her hip and to the soft meat of her thigh. He whispered lowly, “May I?” She nodded slowly whimpering at the way his breath fluttered on her skin. He kissed the skin between her neck and shoulder while his fingers slowly pulled up the fabric of her dress until he felt the satin of her panties. He groaned lowly knowing how close his hand was to her honey pot, but he teased her a bit letting his calloused hand grip onto the supple flesh of her thigh and she gasped. He smiled once more while his hand slipping into the front of her panties the heat coming off her pussy made him bite his lips and roll his eyes just thinking about what it would feel like to be inside of her. Two fingers slipped past her clit warranting a soft breathy moan from Magnolia and then he flicked it again beginning a circular rhythm. She quickly moved the pans off the heat from the stove trying not to burn the rest of the bacon. He did not relent. He continued to rub soft circles on that sweet little pearl and those beautiful sounds she made only egged him on more. She bucked her hips forward adding more pressure and he smiled against her neck, kissing and sucking her soft skin. Stack pressed his hard dick against her rounded ass wanting her to feel just exactly what she did to him and she didn’t mind. Slowly his fingers slipped further, but her entrance was way too tight for two fingers and her pussy was nice and wet for him so he let his long middle finger slowly slip inside and she let out an open mouthed sigh and that almost sent him over the edge. His eyes rolled back as if he could feel her wrapped around him right there while his free hand grabbed her chin possessively giving him more freedom to bite, suck, and lick on her neck. His finger curled against that sweet spot and she was a moaning mess creating friction with her ass against his dick and he groaned in response. She wanted more, but he didn’t think she was ready just yet in the mean time he could have her come undone right in his hands like she was now. Her mind was blank she was busy chasing that high, that feeling that was tightening in her lower belly. He could tell she was close with the way she sighed and moaned, the way her body was trying to run away from the intense pleasure growing in her body. “Go head’, Suga paint my finger now. Let it out.” She couldn’t hold on anymore and something snapped. Her legs grew weak and shook like a leaf. Her eyes rolled and the sound that left her body was music to Stack’s ears. “Oh, my Go—Elias!” Just as she was coming down from her high he licked his finger clean and hummed in delight. “I can’t wait to lick that pretty little cooze of yours, baby.”

Without warning their passion filled moment was interrupted by Annie and Smoke who were still groggy from their sleep, but it seemed the four of them stiffened as they caught them in the afterglow of their moment. “Come on, Stack you couldn’t wait after breakfast to do that? You a dog, man.” Smoke scolded him and waved him off while Annie looked at Magnolia with this knowing look and cheeky smile. Magnolia blushed and smiled looking down, before cleaning her hands to start making everyone’s plate when Sammie came stumbling in. “Well, look who decided to wake up. You’re the baby out the group and we manage to get up before ya.” Stack teased while he waltz over to the table smiling like a Cheshire Cat. Sammie was still getting use to the late nights and booze filled hang overs in the morning. “Alright, Stack leave the boy alone now. He ain’t as seasoned as us old heads he’s a young buck.”, Smoke said hushing Stack. Which only made Stack laugh harder. Magnolia came over and hit him on the shoulder with her dish towel and Stack quickly wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her into his lap. “E-Elias..” she spoke in a meek tone and he smiled at that pretty little face. “Hush now I’m gon’ feed you. You should be off your feet you’ve been up since the crack of dawn cooking for all of us.”

After that delicious breakfast the boys went into town to handle their day time business and left Annie and Magnolia home. Annie was busy selling her charms, herbs, and tinctures while Magnolia was on the back porch reading. When something made her look away from her book. She saw in the distance her father standing in the field just up ahead staring at her. He was holding something in his hand…a GUN. And quickly Magnolia ran inside yelling for Annie. “Annie!!! He’s outside!!!” She was racked with fear and Annie came to her quickly holding a shot gun in hand. By the time they made it outside to confront him he was gone…almost like he’d never been there. Magnolia was hysterical, tears soaking her face. Annie did her best to comfort her but she knew Stack was the only person who could truly make her feel safe so she made a tea for her to ease her anxiety and help her sleep and laid her down until they got back.

When they arrived Annie explained everything and both Smoke and Stack were livid. He had the audacity to come a few mere feet from their property and he was watching them he knew they weren’t home to protect her. “What are we gonna do he’s gonna keep coming back until he can get to her, Stack?” Annie said with concern lacing her voice. Stack paced back and forth trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t do anything stupid this had to be properly planned. “We are gonna let him come to us….I know exactly what we’re gonna do.” He spoke vaguely but when he looked at Smoke and they nodded in unison. Now he needed to check on his girl. There she was sleeping looking just like an angel, his angel. He sat on the bed beside and stroke her hair and then her face which slowly woke her. She shot up and rushed into his arms burying her face into his chest. “I know, baby. I’m here I won’t let em’ hurt ya again. I swear on my life. I’m gonna end that bastard one way or another.” His words were a promise and the malice he felt even thinking about that sick bastard stealing her away was making it hard to not go find him himself. But he had to think about her, if this was gonna be done right he’d need to use her as bait and he knew she’d be more than hesitant to do so but he was going to make sure she’d be safe and he was gonna give that man exactly what he deserved.

To be continued…

@deexoxomuah

Chapter One

[hesolemlyswears]

Marauders series Actor AU headcanons!! (because I need them to all get along)

the other marauders were mildly afraid to work with James since he's in a lot of popular movies and mainly acts with adults

the marauders was Severus' premier. he had done some voice acting jobs before but nothing as big.

walburga and effie best friends and very famous actors, they were devastated about their lack of scenes together

Peter is the music composers kid, but got the rope through the proper audition process and used his mother's maiden name so they wouldn't know they're related

at first severus was afraid of the marauders, mainly James because he was scared their roles would influence their off screen relationship, and because he didn't have as much experience. he was very wrong, he was one of the first people James talked to off set.

it was because severus was wearing a spiderman necklace. James loves spiderman but was often told it was childish. safe to say he was very excited about having someone to talk to about it

severus and James forced the rest of the marauders + lily, Marlene and Mary to watch all the marvel movies

it was mcgonogall that recommended sirius for the role of snape, but when the director met him he thought he'd be better as sirius

much like tom felton, barty knew absolutely nothing about what he was auditioning for and just went with it, the casting crew loved him

Pandora and Evan weren't supposed to be twins and it was rewriten since they genuinely were and the crew loved their off screen relationship

remus is Polish and this was his first role in an English show

the marauders all Instantly connected, it was like they've known eachother their whole lives

snape suffers from absence seizures and often passes out, and it's usually James he can tell when he's in the middle of an episode or if he's about to pass out. he always helps him or if he's unable to get to him shouts for someone else to grab him or help lower his head so he doesn't hurt himself

he passed out when they were filming snapes worst memory whilst he was hanging upside down and no one realised, and when Peter pointed it out to James, James climbed the tree and pulled him up

regulus is mtf but only medicaly transitioned after she died in the show, even though the directors told her she could transition at any point and they'd make it work

Marlene and lily looked up to narcissa, but we're too scared to talk to her

lily wrote a short snape x james fanfic to take the piss and the two of them pissed themselves laughing reading it

Mary was a Disney channel kid that was trying to get more broad roles

sirius caused 70% of the broken props. the other 30% was barty and dorcas

dorcas was scouted at a school performance of Annie where she played lily

after the 2nd year of filming, snape became apart of James, sirius, remus and Peter's social group since he had the most scenes with them

James never had a crush on sirius, but he was who made him relaided that he liked guys

he did however have a thing for snape and regulus at the same time

James and lily dated for a couple months but broke up as a mutual agreement and stayed close friends

lockhart only appeared for a couple scenes and was mainly a bg character with a handful of lines, but he still ciaght Peter's attention and he was head over heels for the longest time

they got married

remus kisses all his friends on the cheek

sirius started doing the wand bun to keep the hair out of his face whilst on set but not filming, but the directors liked it so much they made it apart of his character

the marauders, severus, lily, Mary, Marlene, Mary, and regulus would film little videos of them in character of random scenarios (e.g. Christmas, family dinner, party games) and upload them to YouTube. barty and Evan sometimes tagged along but they didn't express much interest in it

remus and regulus kissed on snl

during the prank, when severus saw the werewolf, he hadn't seen it before, and his reaction was zero sound, just smacked his hand over his heart and looked over at a camera with wide eyes

they had to do a lot of takes of the prank becuse James and severus kept tripping on their way through the tunnel

that's it for now, might add more if I think of some <33

[stellamarielu]

First off I love your writing! I’m so glad I came across your writing and page!

That being said, literally anything Mitchell, I’m dying for more Mitchell fics. Who knew seeing him go full on vampire would be such a turn on?! Or him holding a baby. But I’m very much into 1960s Mitchell right now. Anything nsfw vampire or 60s. Or cute adorable fluffy cooing over a baby Mitchell. I’ll leave it up to you 😉

hello my friend! i love you oh so bad and got a little too excited seeing you in my inbox🤭 i’ve been thinking about our boy mitchell a lot lately and can assure you i’ll be writing some more nsfw content for our favorite vampire real soon

for now please accept this little blurb about mitchell with a baby because that scene had me craving a lobotomy!! also i’m sorry, it gets a tad spicy toward the end i couldn’t help myself!

annie had left you and mitchell with the random baby she’d been watching all day– but due to the constant insanity taking place at windsor terrace, neither of you questioned it. you just agreed to the brief babysitting gig and took turns making silly faces and using absurd voices to see who could make him smile first.

“ah see i told you he liked me better!” mitchell was practically jumping for joy as the infant in his arms let out a cute little giggle.

the smile on his face as he cradled a baby had you going absolutely feral.

The sight in front of you was one you’d never really thought about, but now, watching mitchell with a baby in his arms you were feeling a bit weak in the knees. he was being so sweet, so gentle, so nurturing; it had you mesmerized.

“why’re you staring at me like that?” he’d only looked up at you for half a second, but it was long enough to see the glimmer in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

“staring at you like what?” you were quick to blink away the baby fever heavy in your gaze as he broke you from your trance.

“nothing.” he was shaking off his curiosity.

“here see if you can make him laugh, it’s cute.”

he was motioning you over to him with a tilt of his head and you easily obliged. your body fit perfectly next to his as you leaned in smiling widely at the baby and earning yourself a coo from the little guy.

you looked back at mitchell, excited by finally getting a reaction from the baby still in his embrace, but when your eyes found his he was already looking directly at you. There was a soft stare being exchanged between you as you smiled sweetly at one another.

and then the front door was swinging open putting an abrupt end to your tender moment.

annie was skipping into the room, practically grabbing the baby from mitchell and stealing him back for herself.

“thank you very much.” she was paying the two of you with gratitude but not looking in your direction. instead her eyes were fixed on the baby in her hands.

she was carrying him into the living room and you could hear her mumbling something in a singsong voice as she left the two of you standing alone in the kitchen.

“looks like you’re not all that big and bad, you’ve got a soft spot for babies.” the taunting words left your lips as you playfully nudged mitchell’s shoulder.

“and it seems as though you may have a soft spot for me with babies.” he was chuckling and grinning like an idiot.

“yeah yeah whatever.”

you were trying not to blush as you took a few steps away from him, the warmth of his body leaving your side.

“aw c’mon i think it’s cute.”

he was still teasing as he reached for you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling your body back towards him. his pull held so much force that it had you splaying your hands on his chest to keep from crashing into him.

“a little hot even.”

his voice now held a familiar sulty tone as he spoke down to you, your bodies facing each other and your hands running over his chest.

“yeah?” the word fell from your lips as a question, but you were confidently trailing your hands up to wrap around his neck.

“yeah.” he was answering with a rather aggressive grip on your hips drawing you further into him.

your fingertips were at the nape of his neck playing in his dark curls causing a sigh to fall from mitchell’s lips; the lips that were just inches away, the lips that you desperately needed to feel against yours.

“oh get a room you two! i don’t want the baby to hear you screwing in the kitchen!”

annie’s yell carried in from the living room and had you breaking into a silent giggle. mitchell rolled his eyes at the interruption, but the grin was evident on his lips as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Mikasa and Jean (post rumbling) babysitting.

Oh anon, this was a very fun one to write! It's a bit long, I hope you don't mind! 👀

Babysitting

When Jean and Mikasa learned about Annie’s pregnancy they were overjoyed. The recently married lovebirds made their announcement during dinner, where everyone had been invited.

Jean teased Armin to no end while Mikasa comforted Annie, making sure she was doing well. They were like family after all, the four of them alongside Connie, Pieck, Reiner and Levi. They celebrated all night long.

But no one expected their kid to turn out to be such a little brat. Well, all toddlers are assholes, but their little girl was spoiled to death. Both Armin and Annie wanted Iris to have the life they never got to have, so they gave her everything, from toys to clothes and infinite affection. They had been a bit too lenient. Too soft.

“For fuck’s sake!” Jean shouts, running around the living room with a butterfly net. “Come back here you little shit!!”

Iris is only one year and a half, but already has an attitude the size of a Colossal titan.

She refused to eat anything Mikasa cooked her and then, when they weren’t looking, escaped her high chair to roam through the house unattended.

“Jean, be careful!” Mikasa holds up a blanket, trying to capture the little monster.

Jean and Mikasa had offered to keep an eye on her for a few hours while Armin and Annie went away on a little trip. They REALLY needed a break from parenting, even for just a bit.

Both of them agreed to meet up at the Arlert residence to babysit Iris. It all seemed easy at the start.

“Got ya!” Mikasa says triumphantly, catching Iris in her blanket, wrapping it around her and lifting her up. She glances over at Jean, smiling, proud of herself.

But Jean really underestimated how difficult caring for a kid was. Especially while his and Mikasa’s relationship was still uncertain.

Yes. Uncertain. Undefined. Unlabeled. Were they dating? I mean they hugged before, once or twice. And their fingers had touched on some occasions. But Jean really didn’t want to push his luck, with Mikasa’s feelings toward Eren possibly still lingering.

“Haha, got ya you little fuck! You’re going straight back into your crib. No more play time.” Jean laughs, still panting from running around.

“Jean, you really shouldn’t talk like that around her.” Mikasa scolds him. “She’s a fast learner”.

“Of course she talks a lot, just like her dad” Jean crosses his arms. “That guy never shuts up!”. Mikasa nods, tickling Iris who giggles in return.

“Horsie!” Iris laughs, reaching out for some of Jean’s loose hair.

“Huh?! Not you too!”

Mikasa’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a few laughs. Jean lifts an eyebrow at her reaction and she turns her face away.

“No, Iris, my name is Jean. Jeeaann.” He repeats slowly, trying to get Iris to say his ACTUAL name.

Iris frowns, sticking out her tongue and turning towards Mikasa. She was a lot more fond of her than Jean. Mikasa was better at handling kids in general. She took care of Eren and Armin after all. And kids just gravitated towards her.

She was kind and soft. Had a lovely smile and a beautiful face. But she was also a badass, and could lift insane amounts of weights, including several kids at once. This is partly why kids gravitated towards her. She was like a superhero to them.

And given how much Mikasa had gone through, she was pretty much a superhero to Jean himself. Her scars were deep, too deep for kids to notice them. But Jean knew everything, he had seen Mikasa break and rebuild herself time and time again. He has no idea how she kept moving forward even after Eren’s death.

“I don’t think she’ll say your name anytime soon, Jean '' Mikasa adds, stroking Iris’s back. “It’s not exactly easy to pronounce”.

“And Mikasa is? She didn’t have issues saying that one!” Jean scoffs.

“I mean, she can’t say Arlert yet either. And her Reiner sounds more like ‘laina’ than anything” Mikasa moves to leave the living room and Jean follows her upstairs.

“True, I mean she’s still so small. But one day she’ll say Jean.” He smirks. “-Best uncle Jean-, to be precise”.

“But Connie’s her favourite uncle.” Mikasa opens the door to Iris’s room.

“For now. Give her some time and she’ll realise who the cool uncle really is!” Jean holds the door for her.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you the least.” She says flatly. “Even Levi’s higher on her list of ‘cool uncles’ and he made her cry the first time they met” Mikasa places Iris in her crib.

“Harsh” Jean pouts, passing Iris her favourite toy, a whale plushie. “So, who do -you- think is the coolest uncle?”. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Just so you know, I think all of you are very uncool” Mikasa tucks Iris in. It’s time she had a nap. “But if I had to pick, I think you’re the most fun to be around” she says softly while caressing Iris’ forehead.

“Oh?” Jean lifts an eyebrow. “Really? Well, miss Ackerman, I think you’re a pretty cool uncle yourself.”

Mikasa snorts. He always knew how to make her laugh.

“Very funny Jean.” She stands, pushing some hair behind her ear. “She’s asleep, we should let her be for a while.”

“Alright, we’ll check on her in a bit. Let’s take a break” and they turn off the light and leave the room, closing the door carefully.

“Alright, 30 minutes left.” Jean looks at his watch. “We’re almost done with her”.

They decide it would be best to hang out somewhere close by just in case Iris wakes up early, so they enter the guest bedroom next door. Mikasa rests on the bed while Jean falls into a comfortable armchair next to it.

“She’s a menace” Jean mutters. “So stubborn, just like her mom.”

“I don’t know, Armin can be pretty stubborn himself.” Mikasa chuckles, leaning back against her arms. “But she’s fast and climbs everywhere. I think she got Annie’s agility.”

“She’s pretty much a copy of Annie. They look so similar.”

“Yeah…”

There was silence for a while, Jean fiddling with his shirt while Mikasa glanced out the window.

“Thanks for doing this with me” she breaks the silence, crossing her legs on the bed.

“Of course, those hopeless dorks really needed help. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Armin so tired in my life.” he leans against his hand. “Besides, I like spending time with you” he mutters.

Mikasa smiles and shifts a bit closer to him, now facing each other.

“I like spending time with you too, Jean.” she pauses, playing with her fingers. “We should do it more often.”

Jean’s eyes widen. “You… you’d like that?”

“Yeah. You always make me laugh.”

“You do have a nice smile” Jean says, and Mikasa’s blush provokes his own. He takes a moment to reply. “And a nice…well… everything else”. Oh no, did he overstep?

“Jean…” she sounds serious, and Jean is about to get up and leave. But Mikasa stops him. “Stay. We need to talk”

“About what?” Jean asks, flustered. “I’m sorry, Mikasa. I said to-”

“No, you didn’t. I also…think you’re nice. Y-your smile…” her voice is small, like a whisper. “And everything else too”.

Jean is stunned. What was happening? Was Mikasa… flirting with him?? He must be reading between the lines.

But then she gazed at him with a spark in her eyes, rosy cheeks and furrowed brows in a way he’s never seen her do before and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her soft lips. They stayed like this for a second which felt like an eternity. But then Jean pulled away, covering his mouth. “I’M SO SORRY-!” He stands up, kicking the armchair behind him. Now he’s done it.

But Mikasa pulls him back down, kissing him again much more powerfully than he had done moments before and he loses his balance, falling over her on the bed.

He pushes himself up on his arms. “Hey, what are y-” but she kisses him again, and again. Jean can’t think straight and before he knows it one hand is in her hair and the other one rests on her waist, playing with the hem of her blouse. How long were they like this for? Were they really…

“MAKING OUT?” Annie shouts, the door slamming open. Armin’s in the door frame too, holding Iris but covering her eyes. Her face is plastered in what looks like pie.

“WHILE IRIS IS DOWNSTAIRS, IN THE KITCHEN NO LESS!” She’s fuming, slowly making her way towards the bed.

"Fuck!" Iris giggles, and everyone goes quiet. Annie turns to glare at Jean and a shiver runs down his spine. “JEAN KIRSTEIN, YOU ARE A DEAD MAN”.

If Jean died right now, he’d be a happy man.

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !

[nebula-award]

There's No Love in February: Chapter Two

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

Amy Rose is set on proving herself to her team by traversing the island alone in search of the flower of her dreams: the Winter Camellia. However, things go in disarray as a blizzard forces her into a cave-- a cave which belongs to a certain Ultimate Lifeform. Having to be in each other's company for 3 months changes the way they see each other... (Shadamy)

CH1 | CH 2 AO3 LINK | CH 3

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

Shadow grumbles at the snow sticking to his fur and at how stiff it feels as he enters his cave. Shaking off the snow buried in his quills, he’s mindful of the basket in his grasp-- careful to avoid snow falling anywhere near it. Now content, he prepares his descent deeper into the cave. However, his ears twitch at the sound of breathing. Stopping in his tracks, he turns around to see a pink hedgehog in the darkness. Her back is to the wall, a few feet away from the entrance as she’s clinging to her backpack for dear life. The black hedgehog watches her shiver in mixed confusion. Why is Amity the Hedgehog in his home? (He shakes his head. That’s not right.) What was she doing out here anyways?

Shadow scoffs before entering the deeper areas of his cave. Digging in his bag, he pulls out dry wood and begins to make a fire. After a second of warming up, he walks back to the entrance, and Annie (He groans: still not right.) is still curled up. He looks her up and down: snow covers her quilled bangs, tiny icicles form under her eyes and the fur on her cheeks. He leans down to her level, reaching out a gloved hand hesitantly. Her teeth chatter more, and Shadow quickly takes in how pale her muzzle is. Gently, the hedgehog moves her side. He fidgets with the inhibitor rings on his wrists-- why put in the effort? He’s unsure-- before lifting her up under her back and legs, leaving her bag and hammer alone for now.

He lays Ruby (Shadow scowls. What was her name again?) beside the fire. Can’t just let her freeze to death. After watching her breath for a moment, Shadow goes to secure her things-- dragging her hammer, leaving a trail embedded in the dirt. He watches her mutter and giggle in her sleep upon returning. He stares again, a little dumbfounded by his own reaction at the sight, before returning his attention to his basket-- making sure to keep quiet for the sleeping hedgehog’s sake. He gathers veggies and fruits and prepares himself dinner.

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

 When Amy wakes up, she’s surprised by the crackle and pop from a fire. Slowly, she sits up, only to find the back of a black and red hedgehog. Her green eyes widened. She grabs at her hammer beside her, and debates whenever to hit the hedgehog as she tightens her grip. 

Before she could make up her mind, Shadow turned around with two bowls in hand. He steps backwards and his red eyes widen. They maintain awkward eye contact before Shadow sits down in front of her. He sets one bowl on the ground near her. Glancing down, Amy sees a mush of grains with bright splashes of reds and blues. 

“You’re awake.” He states before eating his breakfast.

Her eyes glance back to him as he eats. She ignores the pain in her stomach in favor of gripping her hammer.

“It’s oatmeal.” Shadow pipes up before scowling. “And it’s not poisoned since you’re wondering.” 

Her arms lowered in shock at the accurate accusation.  “I wasn’t—!” 

“So she does speak.” Shadow takes another bite. “You know, that hammer has got to be over a ton. How on earth can you lift it? I mean… I struggled trying to get you and that thing over here.” 

Amy frowns, “I’m used to it. Now, what do you want with me?” 

Shadow scoffs, “For you to not freeze to death. You were in my cave afterall.” 

Her eyes widened. “This is… your cave?” 

He returns her question with rolling eyes before resuming breakfast. Amy mocks his eye roll, and slowly sits down with her hammer down beside her. Before she could wonder why anyone would pick a cave to live in, Amy remembers her communicator. She searches for the call button; Shadow watches her curiously as she does. She’s successful, and relieved to hear Sonic’s voice.

“Amy? Are you alright? We’ve been worried sick! You weren’t answering our calls.”

Amy smiles briefly at his concern. “I’m okay, Sonic.” She glances at Shadow who raises an eyebrow at her. “More or less. I’m stuck in a cave for the winter, I think.” 

“We can send out a rescue.”

“I can survive the winter on my own, Sonic.” 

“What about food? Water?” 

Shadow mumbles to Amy, “I have enough supplies for two, if that’s your concern.” 

“Is that Shadow? Amy, I’m getting you out of there! Just send me your location!” 

Amy growls. Again with the need to protect her. “Sonic, I can handle him! And… so far, he hasn’t hurt me. I’ll see you after winter, okay?” 

The line is quiet for a moment. “I trust you, Ames. And send a message to Shadow: if he touches you, I’ll kick his—“

Her battery dies before Sonic could finish, but Shadow seems to get the message. He rolls his eyes before laying down.

Amy watches him before an idea forms in her head. “Couldn’t you… Teleport me out of here?”

“Hibernation season, Hedgehog. It handicaps my powers.” He states bluntly, staring at the ceiling. 

Amy furrows her eyebrows. She crosses her arms as she glares. “It’s Amy. Amy Rose. If we’re going to be stuck together for 3 months, get it right.” 

Shadow glances at her with a calculating gaze. She blinks at the intentful expression in surprise. Before she can say anything else, red eyes close with a sigh.

“Alright, Rose.”

[moonspirit]

I feel kinda shy sending this ask but I wanted to see someone's opinion on this idea I had

What do you think Annie's reaction was to Armins voice?

In the time Annie was in the crystal, paralyzed and pretty much stunted in growth, this was a pretty developmental time for most other characters, for Armin specifically, he a little bit grew taller, broader, sharper, got a hair cut, he got handsome(not that he wasn't handsome before). It makes sense for Annie to be a bit surprised by all that's happened in four years, I know I would be. (In my mind I think seeing how much all of her old friends have changed would solidify how long shes been in the crystal for like a 'damn its really been 4 years' moment)

Annie could hear when Armin spoke to her from outside the crystal, I would think she could also hear his voice start to change overtime, get deeper, maybe his voice cracking sometimes. I wonder what her reaction was when she could finally hear him clearly or when she really processes the sound of his voice in her ears.

It's very distinctly Armins voice, after hearing him talk to her for 4 years she can probably recognize Armins voice anywhere.

It just makes me think sometimes, Armins "man voice™️" coupled with his more grown up appearance, do you think an arrow show through her heart. Like whoa hes a man😳😳

Hi hi anon, no need to feel shy at all T^T You're more than welcome here anytime!

But weigiwgiohweihgwig this is ALWAYS my favourite thing to think about ever xD I've gushed about it before but I can always gush about it again cuz the butterflies, god the butterflieeeeeesssss!!!!!

I believe that in-show at least, there's no difference in Armin's voice before and after the timeskip BUT logically, it makes sense it would've deepened a bit (it's upto our imagination tho). I often think about this too and I agree! Tho his voice being on the breathier and softer side of male voices in general, I headcanon that this change wouldn't have been *too* noticeable to Annie who was, by all accounts, living a sleepless nightmare inside the crystal. I also wonder if listening from inside the crystal would've caused some distortion?? In that... maybe she could tell this is Hitch and that is Armin, but they sounded kinda warbly and distant?

Wait, nvm I got distracted 🥲

The point is! That even if Annie had picked up the change in Armin's voice, she couldn't possibly have known of the physical change - her eyes are closed, and she remembers only that smol boy with the bowl cut. Even if Hitch told her about Armin's haircut one day in front of the crystal, it's hard to... really picture something that sounds way too foreign, y'know? I think Annie would've tried and come up with some hideous picture and a mosaic-blurred face in her imagination xD

DESPITE ALL THAT, Annie was thiiiiiiiiiis close to inhaling her pie down her lungs when she saw the... the new guy. He says "Annie?" and she goes all googly eyed.

WTF. WTF WTF WTF WTF?? whO is thiS? Armin's sof voice but HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE AN ARMIN?? IMPOSTOR!

But he's staring at HER and there's titans stomping around and there's a small wind and his *short* hair ruffles and-

WTF WTF WTF??

HE HAS A NECK NOW???!!!

(Class name: Introduction to the Evolution and Life-Cycle of Armins, an endangered species of Boy)

Tho the girl is dowN BAD for him cuz like, not even a minute into their reunion and look at her face:

She wants to #*&#^%_@_)@$()@$&I&##%)))09#S*@$^@$

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

4 Minute Changes - Lester Billings/Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, no use of Y/N, tiny bits of angst, talk of thoughts of self harm, friends to finally dating, bit of making out.

Wordcount: 9026

Summary: Christmas, the time of year for family and friends and getting together, but a surprise statement finally kicks things into gear when it has unintended reactions.

Notes: The unexpected sequel to these! (1 & 2) So, this was supposed to be a request, but with how long it was getting just from these scenes and the prompt not really getting to show, I decided at the last second to instead make this its own post so you guys wouldn't be waiting for another 25k reader that would delay the queue even more, and make the request part 4 in the series instead of part 3 hehe so here's a little extra Lester while I rearrange my queue just a tad, and I hope you enjoy the technical first half of your request, anon 💗💗💗

It had felt like he'd never reach this point, but here it was, and he was naming you as the main reason for it. You waved it off, you wouldn't make this toast all about you when he'd been working so hard, but Lester Billings was a more determined man than ever before thanks to the divorce, and he thanked you for that as well as he raised his glass even higher. It was movie night again, but not just any movie night, he was hosting his first Christmas party in his new home, which you'd helped decorate alongside his kids when they visited. It was all decked out, Rita had kept everything back at the house she’d already lightly done with the kids, so once again you'd been dragged along by him to go shopping since your own few things were still in boxes in your closet.

You didn't really decorate around this time of the year, there was no time to even with the holidays, but spending what felt like an easy 3 hours buying everything and then spending even more hours hanging the lights, setting up the tree, even preparing this delicious meal with him while his kids watched Christmas movies on the TV between attempting to steal samples, you didn't know, but it felt… right.

Who were you kidding, he'd felt right from the moment you met him, but he'd been married then, and he was very much single now, as well as focused entirely on you despite the extended table being full of people, minus one ex-wife; of course she’d decided not to come, which everyone was fine with since it meant no fighting and more presents for the kids, but she also wasn't much of a party hoster it turned out, so the mantle now fell entirely to him. His kids chimed in with him, glasses of juice and soda raised in your honour by Shaun and Deni while baby Annie smacked her plate of mashed foods without a care in the world. He kissed the top of her head and she calmed with a giggle, the toast interrupted by such innocent cuteness, but then it was back to you, and you had no choice but to accept just so he'd stop looking at you that way in front of everyone.

‘Okay, okay fine, to me, for doing all the hard work around here, good job, Me,’ you teased him and got a laugh in return, but while his friends chuckled and agreed that he'd probably still be living out of that hotel room without you, the look he was now giving was nothing short of love. It made you need to look away, it was still too close to the separation being finalized, his kids had half their things moved in and their rooms furnished but you wanted to give them more time together to be a family again after that scare. It couldn't be love, and you turned it on him by raising your glass again after everyone took a drink. ‘And to Lester, for never giving up on his family, even when the whole world was against him,’ you added, and there was a smaller chorus of sadder agreements all around.

His friends still felt guilty for taking Rita's side without ever once going to him, and now that they all knew this was entirely her doing - whether he was watching you the whole time or not - they'd put some distance between themselves and her for it. They didn't cut her out entirely, but their own trust had been broken you'd learned once they started talking again, and while he and Rita were done outside of their kids, she now had a lot of work to do to mend those relationships. You didn't feel bad for her, she'd nearly ruined his life over her own jealousy instead of talking to her husband, and then had him followed as well as you until the paranoia of missing his presence every single time he took pictures of you sank in deep and refused to leave.

You still felt like Harley was out there, watching and waiting to skew your friendship to gain Rita all the advantages, but that was over, he was gone, all that was left was the way Lester's eyes welled up at your words.

He received more teasing at being so emotional again but he ignored them, his glass set down as he then proceeded to round the table to approach you. ‘C’mon, it's not that big of a toast,’ you tried to dismiss but then he was there, his hands touching your face and keeping you from pulling away as he leaned in; your heart pounded when he kissed your cheek in front of everyone, his friends all exchanging a knowing but not unkind look while Shaun tugged at his ugly Christmas sweater picked especially for today and the day itself.

‘Daddy, you're making it gross, you're too old for kisses,’ he whined while Deni nearly choked on her drink in response, Lester sputtering when he pulled away but not letting go.

‘I'm too old for kisses?’ he asked in overplayed disbelief, his hands still on you and warming every inch he touched. ‘Does that mean I get no more kisses goodnight from you?’

‘I'm too old for them,’ he announced to everyone, which his friend agreed with to his own parents’ shock.

‘And what about Deni?’

‘She's never liked them!’

‘I never said that,’ she smirked while her own friends giggled beside her, one of them receiving a big kiss from her own dad right on the top of her head to her dismay.

‘And Annie?’ he asked next, Annie looking around at the sound of her name before reaching up for her dad.

‘She pleads the Fifth,’ you answered on her behalf, Lester laughing again but still not letting go.

‘What about you? Are you too old for kisses?’ he almost whispered when the argument spread between the kids and their attending parents, Annie laughing at the energy around her; instantly your face lit up, the distance between you suddenly registering in your mind when you had to look away from those eyes.

‘I- I must be, since I don't get any goodnight kisses, it's very lonely being this old,’ you acted dramatically, putting on a show and gaining Shaun's attention before food could be thrown. His face fell at the thought, you'd won him over, and he pouted a little and looked around before playing with his fork.

‘I guess I could get a few more, just until I turn 10, double digits mean I'm all grown up,’ he decided confidently, and finally Lester let you go in order to kiss the top of his head and mess up his hair. ‘But only at bedtime! You're gunna embarrass me in front of my friends!’ he was quick to hiss when said friend laughed at him, which made Lester laugh again; it was clear he missed this so much, he was so full of life again that he practically glowed, the bags under his eyes gone and the colour returned to his cheeks despite his busy job and now living as a single parent. It was a good look on him, and this time you were the one staring until you caught yourself and sat back down.

‘To Lester, for not giving up,’ one of his friends continued for you, the toast resuming after the momentary distraction, and his cheeks glowed as bright as yours when everyone drank to him.

The party went on until midnight, the kids allowed to stay up since he was hosting a sleepover, their parents talking and drinking and playing whatever game the kids left behind while they ran around, be it a board game or something on the console they got to unwrap early just for tonight. Every time he sat next to you, his energy wild and contagious as he played to win, no doubt inherited from his kids and not vice versa. It made you just as wild, the two of you yelling and screaming whenever something was in your favour, the other parents teaming up on you just in order to bring you down a notch. You were unstoppable together, so naturally the only way they could figure to beat you was to separate you.

‘I call Lester this time,’ Mr. Himura called when you two once again came out on top, ‘clearly he has the most practice.’

‘Then I call my new best friend,’ his wife declared, her arm linking with yours and lifting you away from him and over to her end of the couch. Lester looked ready to object but couldn't when his friend got up and forced himself between you, a new game started with the new pair forged. Suddenly it became the two of you as enemies, sworn to come out as the best with your lawyer stubbornness versus his fatherly sore loserness. It made for a much more interesting match when the poor Himuras were then left in the dust, your digital cars speeding up and bumping into each other and you then becoming determined to take each other out.

‘Oh, you're going down,’ you sneered at the screen, your eyes never leaving it when you smashed box after box of goodies to use against only him.

‘I've learned to race against the best, you only won before because you were with me,’ he spat back, the other adults in the room forgotten to you when he hit a turbo line and sped ahead in a flash of colours.

‘If you even think of winning I'll sue you, and I will be winning that case,’ you threatened when he bumped you into the secondary path, knocking precious seconds off of your time.

‘I'll hire Gwen again, she's pretty good,’ he already planned even though he was in the lead, but not for long.

‘You still need to pay her for the first time, good luck getting her to go pro bono against me,’ you shouted triumphantly when you managed to hit him and make him spin out, now you were in the lead.

‘Then I'll hire that blonde guy, the one you hate? He'll be glad to see you lose,’ he teased, but that one struck a chord you didn't even know he could strike; your thumbs fumbled over the controller until your car slowed, and when he took the finish line first he cheered along with his partner, who in the end had stopped racing in order to watch. You stared at the screen, completely dumbfounded that he'd say that, and he knew he'd screwed up when he looked over to ask for a rematch and saw your face. ‘Hey, I'm sorry, did I say-’

‘Just need some air,’ you cut in, your body suddenly too hot and your breath not coming as easy as it should, the Himuras giving you space so you could stand and head for the sliding back door; Lester called after you when you shut the door, your body instantly freezing in the December air and forcing you to huddle on the couch swing he still hadn't packed in for the winter. You shivered and rubbed your arms, it'd been so lovely and warm inside but the thought of him using Matt against you after everything you both went through, even as a joke, it had enticed out a reaction you hadn't expected, and when the door opened again you didn't need to look up to know who was standing there.

‘I went too far again,’ he didn't need to ask, but you shook your head, this reaction was on you.

‘No, I joked about Gwen's bill even though I shouldn't have said it in front of them, you had every right,’ you insisted not just to him, and he sat down next to you and shared a bit of his warmth even if your bodies weren't exactly touching.

‘It was the heat of the game, we all say things we don't mean,’ he sighed, he was more used to trash talking than you were thanks to raising kids and having friends with kids on top of that; you were only used to business friends, and not many at that, were still getting used to hanging out with him more, of having non-business friends and relaxing in your off hours, but the very mention of Matt had soured all of it. ‘You know I'd never bring him back into our lives like that, right? He tried to take my kids away from me, if I ever see him again I don't know what I'd do.’

‘Careful, he'd be more prone to fight back than sue first, it's one of the big reasons he hasn't gotten that promotion, I swear the guy's got a temper like I've never seen,’ you muttered in response, but the thought of Lester possibly kicking his ass did bring a small smile back to your lips. ‘Sorry, I shouldn't have walked off, I'm not mad or anything I just- the thought of him, using you against me again, I think it awakened this fear in me that I'd…’ You couldn't finish your sentence, couldn't admit to him that you didn't want to lose him now that he had everything, so you masked your sadness over the thought by shivering and letting your teeth chatter. 

He didn't let it fester, his arm coming around you to warm you up, your body pulled to his chest until all you felt was heat. ‘You saved my life by standing by me when no one else would, you know that too, right? I lost my home, my friends, my family, I had nothing, and each night I went back to that hotel room I kept staring at the wall and wondering if my kids would mourn me if I…’ It was his turn to trail off, he couldn't finish his sentence either, and you shifted closer to him and resisted the urge to grab hold. ‘And then I saw you at Walkers again, and you stayed with me, invited me home so I wouldn't be alone, helped with Gwen and the house, made everything I thought I lost possible again.

‘I nearly did it that night, I was thinking about just leaving my cart there in the aisles and finding the nearest place to string myself up, sorry for the graphic talk but I was, but seeing you again, hearing the way you refused to let her win, it brought me back.’ He held you a little tighter, his face nesting against your head, and when he shivered you weren't sure if it was because of the cold. ‘I'm here today because of you.’

‘You're here because you didn't give up,’ you corrected him but he sat you up, made you look at him in the porch light deflected by the swings awning.

‘You never let me, why don't you ever want to accept my thanks?’ he blurted out now that you were eye to eye, yours widening and the cold seeping back into you once you were apart again.

‘Because I caused all of this,’ you reminded him, Lester shaking his head no. ‘If I'd never met you at Walkers you'd still be with your family, you wouldn't have had to go through any of this, you wouldn't have reached that point, I nearly ruined your fucking life just by talking to you, why haven't you thrown me away yet for everything I've done to you?’ you demanded brokenly, every painful thought coming out all at once, but he didn't confirm your fears, didn't get annoyed at you for thinking so little of him. He just stared, took it all in, and when he was done he leaned forward and kissed you.

Warmth spread through you so fast you forgot what being cold felt like, Lester's hands still holding your arm and back from earlier and only making it spread even faster. His eyes were shut, and this close you could see that the bags were still under his eyes, he was just better at hiding them behind his smile. When you didn't react he tried again, taking a small breath before kissing you with a little more passion, his lips moving against yours and making you let out a sigh. You felt him smile at that, but you couldn't even think to hit him over it when your hands were too busy holding onto his face so he couldn't move away when you took your own breath.

‘Do you get it now?’ he whispered against your mouth when you tried to lean back in, all the emotion over your feelings for him suddenly bubbling to the surface at how in love he sounded in that single sentence, and you choked out a sob and nodded, your forehead bumping softly against his.

‘I didn't want to hope, I didn't want to ruin everything, I tried so hard to stay away,’ you confessed to him, Lester grabbing your hand so he could kiss it.

‘I haven't loved anyone else since the day I started dating Rita,’ he told you so quietly, your lip quivering enough for him to press another quick kiss to it. ‘But when you brought me back to your house, and we spent more time together, I knew that I was the one who ruined everything.’ He met your eye again, and while he did look sad, and a tear rolled down his cheek, the sadness didn't reach his smile as he reached up to brush his thumb along your jaw the way you always imagined he would.

‘Why?’ you asked even though you were sure you knew the answer, your heart pounding in a way that wasn't painful for the first time in half a year.

‘Because she was right.’

You were the one to kiss him this time, his mouth opening for you to deepen it as his smile grew, and a longing swam through you to mix in with the warmth. You were practically on his lap out there in the freezing cold, desperate to be close to him not just because he was still warm, and you were about to shift your leg over his to straddle him when the swing gave a rather concerning groan. You both had a moment to stop and stare before it gave out on you, too much weight collected in one area for the thrifted swing you'd picked out together, the old metal bending in a bad way and sending him right on his ass. Your knee hit the pavement and you both cried out, the door sliding open immediately and giving away that his friends were all listening, but then his kids poked their heads as well, they weren't immune to their dad sharing a moment with you.

You both looked at the group, you were really straddling him now thanks to the fall, and everyone fell silent as the story told itself until Deni broke it with another snicker. ‘Guess they're not too old for kisses,’ she simply said, she was perfectly fine with Lester finding love again after what had happened, and you all started laughing so loud the neighbours shouted for you to shut up, they had work in the morning.

As the night went on, you mutually decided that you wouldn't start dating right away, rushed confessions right before Christmas were just Step 1, and Step 2 was to actually talk when everyone he knew wasn't listening on the other side of the glass. You ended up going home that night with the others, did a bit of designated driving along with him so he wouldn't have to rent out his couch between the two couples. You stopped by one last time before going home to grab your own car, all the kids long asleep by that point, his driveway empty once more thanks to the both of you taking turns driving their cars and then taking the other back.

‘I had fun tonight,’ you smiled from his doorway, and you didn't feel the paranoia creep up again when he slid his hands around your waist to keep you close.

‘You sure you don't wanna sleepover too? I could use an extra set of hands for breakfast,’ he tried to tempt you, but you didn't want to rush things, jump in when you still needed that talk.

‘I think it's about time Shaun learns how to not burn the eggs,’ you refuted, which he wasn't a huge fan of, so you kissed his cheek to bring his smile back. ‘We can meet up at my place for lunch when they go back to their mom, maybe order the usual, watch a movie, finally talk about all of this, okay?’

‘Okay, but if you get a text tonight about how I can't sleep I'll expect you to come right back, deal?’ was his compromise, and this time the kiss had you standing on your tiptoes so you could be more on his level.

‘Deal, but next time you come to me though, gas is expensive,’ you grinned before kissing him again, this one going on for so long that you had to force yourself away from him now that you had him. He whined in protest, clearly that was something he learned from raising three spoiled children, and you chuckled and waved goodnight on the way to your car. He watched you for as long as he could, Lester rubbing his arms and jumping foot to foot until he couldn't stand in the cold without you any longer, and you laughed again at how cute he looked when he shut the door in your rearview mirror.

‘He likes me,’ you confirmed to your reflection, more tears welling up again at being able to say it. ‘She was right, and he still chose me. He lo- he likes me.’

The confirmation of the second half would have to come later, no getting ahead of yourself you internally insisted, but that didn't stop your grin the whole drive home.

He didn't text you to come back that night, but you almost texted him, your bed feeling especially empty now that you knew how it felt to kiss him, not just be held by him. You ended up holding onto your pillow and replaying the kiss over and over in your head, your fingers finding your lips in the dark and grinning again when your head supplied the way he'd tasted. You'd never been this giddy before, lawyer life had knocked it out of you for damn sure, or so you'd thought, because you were clearly on Cloud 9. You fell asleep thinking of him, how you'd have to go shopping again to get a brand new and not thrifted swing for the spring, how nice it'd be to sit with him on it while the kids swam or played in the yard.

Domestic bliss, the kind you'd helped him find again, the thing you told yourself you could never have because he wasn't yours, but now he was, and it was in reach. The thoughts followed you into your dreams, made you picture bright and fun things, of warm hands and soft kisses that were even better than you imagined. It was so lovely you didn't want to wake up, your alarm going off and startling you so rudely from them before you could kiss him again, and you grumbled in the morning light before realizing that it didn't have to be just a dream anymore, the nightmare was over and you could wake up to something even better than what you had before.

You knew you still had to talk first, but that thought propelled you right out of bed and for your bathroom, a quick shower waking you up the rest of the way so you could get dressed without falling asleep on your feet. You were on holiday yourself, as was he, thanks to Christmas being right around the corner, and you were glad you'd gone shopping as you loaded up a grocery bag with food and got back into your car already. You sped back to his place, your mind racing already at the thought of what you were doing, but once you pulled into his driveway you finally stopped and realized what you were doing; in your excitement to be with him you were already starting to insert yourself into his life without his opinion, the logical side of your brain that won you cases and thought up strategies completely shut off because of one single thought that rested at the forefront of your brain: ‘I want to have breakfast with him, there's too many kids to cook for, he'll need help.’

You chose to go home, so you shouldn't have come back, and you were about to back out again when your phone buzzed in your pocket. ‘Hello?’ you asked into the receiver without even looking at the caller ID, force of habit since you mostly just got calls from work, and you were surprised to hear a tired Lester on the other end.

‘Hey, you're up early,’ he mumbled sleepily on his end, and you could hear him shift in bed through the speaker, the sound making you blush because you were his first thought waking up. 

‘You know I'm used to it, you should be enjoying your morning while the kids are still asleep,’ you replied sheepishly, and he let out a breathy laugh in response.

‘They were up hours ago, been trying to sleep all morning.’ He yawned in your ear, the bed shifting again with his big stretch to wake himself up. ‘This bed really isn't as comfortable without you in it, y'know.’

You banged your hand as silently as you could on the wheel, he was going to be the death of your logical side forever at this rate. ‘Sounds like you might have to invite me for a sleepover next time, unless you want to try my bed out again?’ you flirted without thinking, your eyes widening when you heard him laugh again. ‘Sorry, oh my god, that just came out, I didn't mean-’

‘Don't, I told you how I feel because I want to be able to talk with you like this, not for us to go back to ignoring it.’ He must've sat up then because the bed gave a great groan under his weight. ‘I really like you, I've been waiting months to be able to say it, so if you want to joke about sleepovers and sharing beds then I'm right there with you, because I'm probably about to say the same, you just beat me to it.’ You could hear his smile in his voice and you melted under it, your own growing as you looked at the bag of food you'd tossed into your passenger seat.

‘Okay, then… I nearly texted you last night,’ you admitted softly, your foot pressing on the break even though the car was off. ‘I didn't want to come home last night, but I don't want to rush things, so I did and I… I got so close to texting you.’

‘I hope you didn't spend all night in my driveway,’ he said next, your head snapping up in shock just in time to see him wave from his bedroom window. Your face turned beet red and must've looked a fright because he laughed so loud he held the phone away from his face, his slightly obscured figure throwing back his head on the other side of the glass; this was embarrassing as all hell, but his laugh was so contagious you had no choice but to join in, and he motioned for you to come in. ‘C'mon, I've got five kids of varying ages and a very cranky baby to feed, I could use the extra set of hands.’

You nodded since he could see you before hanging up, and you made sure you looked presentable before grabbing the bag and heading for the front door. He greeted you as soon as he could get it open, looking just as disheveled as he had the last and only time you'd slept here, and welcomed you in with a hug to the chaos, Shaun and his friend already playing games now that the adults weren't hogging the console. Deni sat with the twins at the table, all three of them on their phones and ignoring the noise while clearly waiting for breakfast, Annie sitting on the couch with Shaun and laughing at the flashing colours and wanting to play too, she was getting big.

The thought made you feel domestic again, and you held up your bag of food as you followed him to the kitchen to get started, neither of his older kids saying a thing to your early return after last night. That was good, you didn't want to even think about that kind of talk when you still had to talk to their father, but you couldn't help the way your hand still shook a little nervously when you placed your full carton of eggs beside the packs of bacon you bought and kept forgetting to actually make up. His hand found yours, calmed you just from his touch, and he leaned in close to knock his shoulder against yours when he felt how high the trembles went up your arm.

‘Hey, it's alright, baby steps,’ he whispered directly in your ear this time, no phone to separate his voice from you, and you nodded, you could do this, you could date the hot dad you met in Walkers months ago now that he was a very single hot dad.

‘I've never been a parent before,’ you mumbled nervously back, which made him chuckle not unkindly back before giving you another nudge. 

‘You don't have to be, not after one night,’ he smiled lovingly, his kids whispering to their friends over your closeness, but you couldn't feel their stares when he was this close. ‘Let's figure things out first, see where we want this to go, it's still early, I'm just impatient.’

The last part made you laugh, his own eyes shining as he watched you, and you nodded again and felt a little better, lighter. ‘I want to see where this goes, too,’ you agreed, your other hand playing with the corner of the topmost bacon package, your words coming easier. ‘It's just been a while since I've done anything like this, my last partner was years ago, so I'm a bit rusty at… y’know, being with anyone.’

‘The last time Rita and I went on a date was before Annie was born, and that was when things were still good,’ Lester chuckled not exactly bitterly, like he also missed those days but it didn't hurt anymore. ‘I think I'm ready to have some real dates with you, not just us sitting around eating takeout, because I do like that, but getting to take you places without us worrying about who's watching, not having to hide how I feel about you, I really like that, too.’

‘You must've stolen all the hearts in highschool,’ you joked just to get a second to make sure you weren't blushing too hard, so much for the lawyer's heart of stone, and he chuckled again before kissing your cheek.

‘So far I'm two for two,’ he joked right back before starting on breakfast. ‘Good thing you brought eggs, we only have two left after making all those cookies yesterday, which I hope are all still in the microwave, seeing as they're for Santa.’ He announced the second part loudly to the rest of the people in the house, hushed voices coming from behind the two of you when he opened the door and saw that the plastic wrap had been disturbed. ‘Just as I thought, we might have a cookie thief on our hands here.’

‘Maybe Santa came early, Mr. Billings,’ one of the twins offered only to have her sister snicker for her to shut up, Deni not offering a word while she kept on scrolling.

‘Uh huh, and maybe I'll have to find a place to hide these so they last til Christmas, otherwise we'll just have to eat them and make more,’ he sighed like it was a real chore, but Shaun and his friend sure liked the sound of that based on the way they failed to stifle their shouts of excitement. You chuckled to yourself and opened up the packs of bacon and sausage, Lester not giving anything away as he brought out the big bag of potatoes he kept in the pantry to start washing. ‘Help me with these once they're in their pans, the stove can handle the rest,’ he asked of you once your search for big enough pans was over, you needed to make a ton of food for everyone, and you nodded and made quick work of the meats so the potatoes could be chopped into bite-sized pieces once he washed them. 

He joined you when all of them were waiting for the knife, his hands very well practiced in the way of breakfast making, cooking with you seemingly sharpening those skills because he worked even faster in this kind of environment. It was so endearing to see him concentrate like this, his line of sight only broken when Shaun came over to see if anything was ready to steal despite just getting started. Lester quickly shoved him away from the hot grease already starting to splash, and you gave him a small smack when he reached for the microwave to tempt him away with a cookie.

‘It's not even 10,’ you hissed under your breath, and he thought about it before grabbing two.

‘A little pick-me-up, since you're the only non-cookie thief in this house,’ he whispered when Shaun ran back to the couch, and when you protested again he stuck the cookie right between your lips mid-sentence. ‘Shhshhshh, it's better than coffee, which I still need to make when these are done,’ he told you with a grin and a wink, and you wiped off your hand so you could bite off the top of the cookie with a false grumble without getting potatoes juice all over it; it was pretty good, you hadn't stolen even a tiny nibble of dough when you all made them the day before, although you had stolen a bit of icing, and you almost regretted not having one sooner at how well they'd turned out. ‘How is it?’

You held it out for him to take a bite, which he did, just narrowly avoiding your fingers in order to make you react, and you both laughed over cookie crumbs as you finished up with the potatoes and got out some seasoning. He had a trick for this, he could've used another pan, but instead he tossed them all into the largest zip lock bag he could find with some oil and seasoning, shook it up - until Shaun and his friend wanted to take over for a bit when it looked fun - and then dumped it all into his air fryer, an early Christmas gift from you when he nearly set his new kitchen on fire after leaving the stove unattended to run when Annie started crying when she should've been napping. It'd been nothing, but the burnt food had set off the smoke detectors, which hadn't helped her crying in the least while the other two panicked.

He'd ended up having to throw out the pan entirely when the food had fused to it, how he'd messed up that bad in such a short time you'd never know, but he certainly moved on fast once Deni had taught him how to use the new appliance, that was for damn sure.

With the potatoes taken care of, you stood hip to hip and watched over the meats, you turning the sausages every now and then to keep the sides evenly cooked, while he braved the dangers of splashing grease from the bacon; he still had yet to master the time and temperature to not destroy whatever meat he tossed into the fryer to avoid said dangers. It ended up getting so bad he bulked up, putting on his puffiest winter coat as well as oven mitts, and when you turned and saw his outfit you laughed so loud it drew his kid's attention.

‘Dad, what're you doing?’ Deni asked incredulously, she couldn't be silent at this one, and he held up the greasy spatula in ultimate safety. 

‘Making breakfast,’ he answered with a flourish that dripped grease onto the floor, which you quickly cleaned up before he could spread it. ‘What, you guys don't like my chef's outfit? Doesn't it make me look professional?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘You look like you're cooking in the snow!’

‘It might be a bit much,’ you agreed with a horribly hidden smirk, Lester thinking about it before lowering the zipper.

‘But it's so protective, look-’ You had zero time to react before the jacket was opened, Lester's body pressed against your back in one big step, and then the jacket closed as far around you as he could manage, the bulky form of you two making everyone laugh when you tried to struggle free. You couldn't, he was too warm and it admittedly felt too nice, so you felt dramatically limp for show with a sign.

‘Fine, you win, it's very protective,’ you mumbled a bit too softly to finish the act, but your softness was enough for him, and he kissed the side of your head and waddled you back to the stove.

‘Told you.’

You opened your mouth to say this all felt too fast, he'd fallen back into the role of loving husband too easily, but that could come later, for now you just wanted to move around the sausages while he fumbled with the bacon until a few got a bit too crispy.

Breakfast came and went after that before you knew it, Deni helping set the table while Shaun reluctantly cleaned up, Lester taking a quick break to change Annie and get her own breakfast out, since she was still too young to enjoy bacon and eggs. Even their friends helped a bit, they weren't rude guests, and before long everyone was sitting, then eating, and then you were free while the dishes were set in the dishwasher and sink to be cleaned up by those who didn't cook. You collapsed into the couch and let your back rest, cooking for seven was tougher than you thought, but he was very much used to it and made that fact known when he sat down next to you.

‘Just wait til summer when you're helping me with pool parties,’ he warned with a smile, but it fell again when he noticed your expression. ‘Hey guys, it snowed last night, why don't you go build a fort while everyone's still here, we'll be out in a bit,’ he told everyone before they could return to their rooms, and thankfully they were all more focused on who could build the better fort than the fact that your smile was now a bit forced. He waited until the sliding door closed and left you alone, the yard small enough that everyone was in sight and clear of the covered pool while they enjoyed the fresh powder that looked perfect for building, but while you knew he'd prefer to stay there so he could watch over them, you didn't want to do this where they could see.

‘Can we close the curtains a bit, I feel a little too… seen,’ you asked of him, and he frowned as well before doing as you asked. ‘Sorry for the tone, this is all just hard to process, I mean, this is so nice, being here and feeling like… I'm a part of something bigger than just you and me now; but it feels so soon, we've still only known each other for just over half a year, I feel like I'm intruding on you all still.’

He turned sideways on his cushion and took your hands, ever gentle and not giving away if your words had hurt him at all. ‘It does, I know I'm guilty of it too, I guess I've been so excited to get my family back, start moving on with you, that I forgot how this whole courtship thing works. The last time I dated I was 18, now here I am in my 40s and it feels like I'm starting over from scratch, and everything is so new; we rushed through everything those months I was staying with you, we, uh, we speedran it as I've heard Shaun say, since we lived together and slept in the same bed before I could even tell you how I feel, or realized how I felt.’ He laughed a little and looked away, his cheeks lightly dusted again in his silence. ‘We never did talk about it, did we? What she said at the hearing?’

‘No, no we did not,’ you smiled with your own gaze to the floor, not a single word said between you of what she'd said about how he was always watching you, since you had stopped yourself from watching him. ‘Did you really do all those things? Watch me during the parties, talk about me when you got home?’

‘Ha, you know, I honestly didn't realize I was doing it myself, if you'd believe it. Everyone else would say how their day was and my mind would just go to you, something you said when we were shopping, and then that would remind me about how you talked about being too busy to go out,’ he admitted to you sheepishly, his hands never leaving yours. ‘I suppose I really was using every opportunity to invite you over, just so you could have a little fun and I could see you more than once a week, but she was still wrong about the rest, because I never once considered I might have feelings for you until you found me at Walkers and brought me out to your car.

‘I fell in love with you for the first time when you sat beside me that night, just a whisper of it that grew to a roar the more time we spent together and I realized that I could love anyone other than her, that I was capable of it,’ he told you seriously, his eyes finally meeting your eyes so strongly that you couldn't look away again. ‘I never lied to you, not even to sort my feelings out, I really did have trouble sleeping alone after all that time, there were no ulterior motives. But the more we did it, it hit me that I couldn't sleep alone not because I missed her, or the company, but because it was so easy to fall asleep with my arm around you, and I didn't want to give that up.’

Your lip gave a small quiver, you'd always noticed how fast he passed out when you slipped under the covers and felt his arm rest over your side and stomach, but to know it wasn't your generic presence that did it when she couldn't, but because he found that much comfort in you, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. ‘Gwen told me so many times to keep my distance, just in case anyone was watching us, because she didn't want anything to be taken out of context and used against us, which they did, I'm still so sorry for that,’ you moaned sadly, the feeling of facing everyone and having them hate him more because you weren't strong enough to stay away still haunting you. ‘But I've liked you from the moment I saw you, just some guy looking for food in a busy grocery store, and it was all so unfair what they were doing to you when all I'd ever seen was you being the most wonderful person I'd ever met, you… you don't know… how fucking long it's been since I've met anyone like you, not since I got this job.’

It was true, you were so used to business coldness and people like Matt, of horrible people trying to use you to fake innocence for their own gain, too many kind people taken advantage of and left out to dry when the system failed them. You had refused to let that happen to him, for him to lose the smile you fell in love with, and when he suddenly gasped you realized that you'd said it all out loud without meaning to.

‘I fell in love with your smile, too,’ he whispered gently, ‘that's why I wanted to keep seeing it, even back then.’

You weren't sure who moved first but suddenly you were meeting in the middle, your arms thrown around each other in one big hug. He nuzzled hard into the crook of your neck, your face pressed into his shoulder, your hands clutching at warm clothes until they found their way up to hold onto necks and heads to keep each other close. ‘I'm not ready to be a parent, not like you,’ you choked out into his ear, your hands shaking against him, ‘but I'm ready to be with you, even if it takes a while for me to move the rest of my things here, not just my couch.’ He laughed once and it sounded like he was trying not to cry, but in a good way. ‘And no matter what, we can still do movies and takeout at my place until then, and you can always sleepover like old times, you said my bed was better anyway.’

‘It's so much better, we'll have to stack them when you move in,’ he agreed happily, your bodies moving even closer in the hug.

‘It'll be so tall you'll need to help me climb up there,’ you joked at the mental image of it, which made him laugh again at his own.

‘Good thing I'm so strong, and you're so fun to pick up.’ Again, you had zero time for reactions when he suddenly grabbed you around the waist; he lifted you back onto his lap, and this time, the seat underneath him wouldn't give out with a little extra weight, it was a sturdy couch. Your eyes widened at the new closeness, even more than last night outside, your shoulder jammed into his chest and your faces dangerously close together.

‘The curtains are still a bit transparent,’ you warned him, but it came out so breathlessly that he bit his lip at the sound.

‘They're busy playing, you really need to learn the first rule of parenting,’ he whispered back, and together you maneuvered until you were straddling him properly, your waists nearly pressed together, his feet braced firmly on the floor as his legs started to part and give him a bit of relief, to your thumping heart's surprise.

‘And what's that?’

‘Never take a second of distraction for granted.’

Your lips crashed together with months of built up tension, your body moving on instinct before his hands could settle on your hips and guide you. He really knew what he was doing, this was a man who'd gone for what was a parent's eternity without being able to satisfy any of his needs under all the stress, and he let you know it with a groan when your fingers tangled in his hair. It was enough to drag out a sound of your own, a thrill rushing down your spine because he really was yours, he really did want you, and you opened your mouth to let him in when a couple knocks came to the glass.

You separated in a youthful panic as the door slid open, the yells of Shaun and his friend drifting in along with the cold air that Deni didn’t entire block. ‘Hey dad, just letting you know that it’s pretty easy to see inside with the lights on, even with the curtains closed,’ she informed the both of you, your face instantly going to his shoulder to hide your horrified embarrassment.

‘Shit- I mean shoot, I’m sorry honey, we were just-’

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me, I’m a big girl,’ she smirked knowingly, her friends trying and failing to stifle their laughter at old Mr. Billings being caught making out with his new partner. ‘And I’m not weirded out by this, no matter what Shaun might say; we’ve been talking too, y’know.’

‘He thinks it's weird?’ he frowned sadly, and she gave her friends a glance and motioned for them to distract the boys by upping their snowball fight, just for a little while. She stepped back inside, the snow flaking off onto the mat and melting fast in the heat now that the door was closed, but she didn’t move any closer.

‘He thinks it’s gross, but he’s still just a kid, he never liked you kissing mom in front of us, either,’ she clarified, which thankfully made him relax. ‘We know you and mom aren’t getting back together after what happened, and… that’s still kinda sad, it actually kinda sucks, if I’m honest, going from one house to two, and everything else that’s gunna change going forward. But… we both know you never cheated on her, or wanted to hurt any of us, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.

‘And I can also see that you’re happy like this, and with them, so if you wanna start dating, then I’m cool with it.’ It was an honest relief to hear, one so strong that you both started to laugh in relief after all the hiding you’d had to do even as friends, but before you could hug again she cleared her throat to get your attention. ‘However, if you are gunna date, please at least wait until we’re with mom before making out in the living room again, alright?’

It was a good tease, and Lester clapped his hands over his thighs with a fatherly laugh. ‘Alright, alright, you got us,’ he agreed to her terms with a stand and stretch, his growing problem now solved thanks to how bad she’d scared him with those warning knocks. ‘Speaking of got, how’s Shaun holding up out there?’

Deni looked over her shoulder at the war, one of her friends on his side, but his fort was suffering damage now that the twins were pitted against each other. ‘Battle damage is pretty high, he might want some backup,’ she reported, Lester now twisting his back to limber himself up.

‘Whattaya say? Should we help him?’ he asked her, and she looked at her phone for any remaining notifications before setting it down on the nearest safe surface and doing up her coat a little tighter. ‘That’s my girl, go alert the troops that help is on the way.’ She saluted and raced out, more active than you’d ever seen her in her teenage years of waning childness, Shaun calling for her as soon as she let her presence be known. Their voices were muted again with the door shut, and you watched the war pick up with her help before standing as well, although you didn’t follow him towards the back where he’d left his boots from last night’s talk. ‘Are you coming? They could use all the help they can get out there,’ he offered, but it wasn't a demand, this was your choice to stay away, or be with him.

‘I don’t want to impose,’ you tried to say, your feet carrying you back another step.

‘You don’t have to be their parent to play in the snow,’ he reminded you with all the gentle love you’d come to care about. ‘But if you’d rather sit this one out, we’ll save you some snowballs for the next war.’

‘I’d like that,’ you smiled smally, and it felt lonely when he nodded understandingly and got ready; he raced outside and Shaun called him over, but the teams would be uneven, so Lester was forced to pair with the enemy to his kids’ dismay, and it looked like so much fun, albeit cold. You hadn’t done anything like that since you were a kid yourself, just played and enjoyed life instead of working and focusing on all the monsters of the world tearing you down one case at a time.

Maybe you could use a little party.

Maybe you could enjoy a slice of Caramel Pecan when it was offered to you.

You quickly got dressed as the twin on Shaun’s team went down dramatically, a death worthy of Valhalla by the looks of it, the battlefield was uneven again, and when you raced outside to take her place you didn’t miss the way Lester watched you run over with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on his face. You didn’t have time to cherish it though when he chucked the next snowball directly at you for arriving late, the fallen twin recovering from death thanks to your presence, and the war resumed with his kids helping you gang up on him without mercy until the victor was called. Your yells mixed with theirs until car horns alerted their guests to their own awaiting parents, but even then you didn’t leave, Shaun tugging on your sleeve to keep you from running off so he could rebuild his fort even better than what Lester and Deni could do.

Now, this was a case you could win, and even with him being the big loser of the day when he and Deni let Shaun’s frozen structure be the winner, no one felt any sadness when you all then came together to build the biggest fort Shaun had ever seen to play in until the sun set.

[googleincognitomode]

thg headcanons:

(Trigger warning for phobia, trauma and psychological mentionings)

the Hawthornes have a family song/lullaby: the “I love you song” ( Frankie Valley LOVE song). It all started out with mr h and hazelle having a dance to the song, and then gales dad just starts sing to hazelle and his kids to ‘brighten up their lives’. Gale n hazelle continues on the song to sing the kids to sleep, cuz it is a sweet thing that makes them think of the good times before the chaos.

katniss uses unscented shampoo and conditioners. she hates the reminder of it’s artificial, unrealistic, inauthenticity— like the Capitol. By being unscented and not having any connection to the Capitol, katniss allows herself to be free and unbranded. peeta always uses fresh or sweeter scents: maybe like mint and chamomile. But he ends up smelling like backed good at the end of the day

haymitch is Madge’s godfather like figure. he is close to her mother, due to being connected to mayslee. cuz of this, the undersees trust him a lot and have so much faith with him. he even cares a lot for Madge too, wanting what’s good for her.

Johanna, from the hjacking, developed a phobia of any form of water. cuz of that, she couldn’t take a proper shower or bath for a good couple of years, and won’t visit district 4 (also the pain of losing a close friend). she would clean herself with watered rags and wipe her body clean. she also cuts her hair short, never too short, but short and asks Annie to wash her hair for her— which she always does and hold her hands telling her she’s okay.

To add on, I think Katniss develops on onset phobia of needles. After all the trauma and abuse she got from the capital and the revolution, she hates the idea of needles, cus it just trigger her fight-or-flight reaction to protecting herself. Especially all the episodes of being unconscious, drugged up or injuries beyond repair.

Annie, I think, would want to become a psychologist, or something incredibly similar in the future. She learns to become better and helps other with similar situations to improve themselves to become more at ease. She specifies in trauma/addiction and childhood psychotherapy.

The mellarks adopt another cat and name it dandelion. Similar to the flower/plant motive of the Everdeens name, but also cause it reminds katniss of peeta. Dandelion, the cat, would be blonde with white in it. And it would be always there at the corner of katniss’ eye

Finnick has a massive book collection and poetry collection at his place. Him, Mags and Annie all have a ‘Book Club’ group and talk to each other

Finnick can’t sing anything other than sea-ship songs. Like those old-times pirate/ sea songs. He also sways a little when he stands too still for too long— an old habit that died hard from his youth his his dad owning a boat. Annie smtimes joins him w his singing, and mags too

[rotten-dog-teeth]

I need to say something, as an archivist.

Please look after your books. Please. Don't throw them in the bin, don't tear pages out, don't screw them up. If you don't want them anymore, either sell them, or donate them, whether it be to a charity shop, a library, or a school or university.

I rescue old books and look after them. I've just been sorting through the most recent lot that I've gotten, and there were books in there - that the original owners wanted to just throw away - that had survived over 100 years, and predated the first (1st) world war.

That in itself, is amazing. Because what most people don't know/realise, is that so many books did not survive the world wars, especially the second (2nd) one. Not only were countless libraries destroyed in bombings, but so many books were burned and eradicated under the Nazi regime.

This is still an issue today, with book burnings and bannings still taking place, such as in the USA; as well as countries being bombed and seiged, destroying so many books containing records of those people's history, culture and lives, such as in Palestine.

I've found books that were printed the year the second (2nd) world war ended, first (1st) editions filled with documents from the war, detailing everything that happened, every action that was taken, everywhere they went, every letter that was exchanged, every soldier that was felled. Documents that would have otherwise been destroyed, if not during the war by the opposition, then by the people who wrote it in the first place, to try to hide certain aspects of the war to paint themselves in a better light, or cover up certains tragedies or mistakes. These are pivotal resources for historians, especially books for time periods less written about/well-documented.

So often, I see books that are on their last legs, falling apart, and most people's reactions are to just throw them in the bin. This breaks my heart. Not only are you destroying a record of something so human - whether that be stories told to children to help them sleep at night, records of a huge historical event that meant the world to the people of that time, poems written by someone painfully in love so long ago - but snuffing out the life that book lived.

Every book I rescue, I check for two (2) things: print date, and notes.

The print date is simple - it tells me how old the book is. But the notes are what I mean by the life of the book. So many books I find have hand-written notes in them, and they give you little hints of the life they've lived. Here are some real notes I've found in books:

"Peter, Chemistry department of [X] university" in a german-english dictionary of chemistry terminology. This book was a gift to a university student, he was studying chemistry, and probably either working with a German team, or maybe leaving home after university to go to Germany, or some other german speaking country. These kinds of books are really specific, and at the time of print (roughly the 50s or 60s if I remember correctly), you couldn't just search for it online (something a good portion of us have never known) - you had to find a specialist book shop or find one that could track it down for you. Whoever got this book, cared about the person they gave it to, and went through the effort of finding this specific book for Peter before he left home. I would guess maybe a family member. Maybe they never saw him again.

"For our 50th anniversary - Annie & Frank" in a little homemade books of recipes. This book had been put together over several years, presumeably over the course of this couple's marriage - 50 years. This book was probably an anniversary gift from one of the two (2) partners to the other. So many recipes, lovingly collected and kept over decades. Probably having been cooked for eachother a hundred times over. These people probably had such fond memories of being sat at the dinner table - maybe just the two (2) of them, maybe with family, friends, and other company - eating the warm, homemade meals from these recipes. Making and sharing food with someone is often a very intimate and loving thing to do. I like to think they loved eachother so very much.

[A double-sided A4 love letter] found in a book of poetry. The letter was faded, and most of it was indistinguishable, but there were little bits that I could read, and they were lovely. This was written more recently (it contained more modern dialect), but was still so precious all the same. I wonder what that book lived through. A spark. An anxious confession. A romance. Perhaps a break-up too. Maybe that's why the book ended up in the donations. I imagine that the recipient of the love letter and poetry forgot the letter was even in there. The book was probably a gift from their partner - maybe specially picked, perhaps because the recipient liked poetry, or that specific poet at least - and that's probably why they used the letter as a bookmark in it. I still think about those people sometimes, where they ended up. Where are they now?

Those are just some of them, and I hope you understand why I care so much about these little bundles of paper and ink. They tell a story, not just in what's printed, but in their age, their condition, in the little notes people leave behind. Even simply the fact that some books' pages are so thin and smooth from being flicked through and read by an adoring reader so many times that the page corners have been worn thin by stroking fingers.

You may feel like nobody cares about that one book you have sitting in the corner of your room, and that "there are thousands of those books, this one doesn't matter", or that it's "ruined" because of that little message your mum wrote on the front page when she got it for you, but what you don't realise is that future historians and archivists are begging you to look after it, and make sure it's given to a good home. It may end up being the last surviving copy of that book. That little message could tell them so much that you don't even notice right now.

It breaks my heart finding old books with pages missing, which may never be recovered - the contents lost to time forever. Finding books whose spines are falling apart and pages are moulded from dampness - having been neglected for years. Finding books whose pages are worn and faded, yellowed and bent - just left to rot.

It fustrates me when I find books that have been poorly or just outright incorrectly handled. You can tell if a book's from a school library, because it has tape all over the cover, hiding the face of the book with a permanent dust jacket, because apparently they decided it ought to stay hidden; because it has check-out pages glued over the print date, because the day somebody borrowed it is more important than the book's birthday. I love libraries, and they're so important, but sometimes I wish some of them took better care of their books.

This is my plea to the people, and love letter to the books.

Please. I love you.