#don’t drag me but the marley men are more of my cup of tea!

[dejwritesarchived]

Another tiktok - rumi

rumi, i ain’t much of a eren simp….so EREN SIMPS COME GET YOUR JUICE.

[glassesandswords]

Of Wings And Wheelchairs

Pairing: Levi Ackerman & Onyankopon, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe (mentioned)

Summary:  Levi and Onyankopon sit in a coffee shop, waiting for Gabi and Falco to return from their small detour during their vacation together. Levi reminisces about the old Survey Corps veterans and their times together as Onyankopon listens. Soon, the conversation makes its way to a person the two knew very well- Hange.

Ao3 Link

“Let’s wait here.”

Levi and Onyankopon stopped at a coffee shop. With so many people bustling about, it was hard to find a place to relax for a while, especially with all the walking they had done. Well, at least all the walking that Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco had done- as Levi had been pushed around on a wheelchair by Falco the whole time. But the kids had spotted an ice cream vendor and left together to buy something to eat, and the older men decided to get a quick drink before continuing on with their journey.

The coffee shop had outdoor seating shaded by giant blue umbrellas that flared briskly over the round tables. A florist sold bouquets nearby. The scent of roses and lavenders wafted through the air, mingling with that of roast coffee.

“Are you sure letting Gabi and Falco go off on their own in a foreign land a good idea?” Levi asked as Onyankopon looked around for an empty table.

“They are fifteen now. They will be alright. Us, old men, shouldn’t be interfering with a pair of love-birds, so let them enjoy this vacation on their own.”

“You might be right about that.”

Onyankopon decided on an empty table on the opposite end of the florist and parked Levi next to him as he pulled a chair for himself. “Fifteen, huh?” Levi muttered, adjusting his wheelchair close to the table. “If they were in Paradis, they would have graduated from the cadet corps. But these two- they have had their fill of the battlefield way before that, being Marley’s warrior candidates and all.”

“Yes. That’s why they deserve to live like the carefree and free-spirited children they are right now.”

“Not that any child needs a reason to live like that. They all are equally deserving of happiness.”

“Of course,” Onyankopon called the waiter over to them. “A black tea and a black coffee, please.”

Levi noted how Onyankopon kept his favorite drink in mind and ordered it for him by default. Over the past three years, the two men had bonded over their shared losses and he had been a constant companion for Levi after the war. Onyankopon had helped him start a new life and set up his own tea shop after he retired in Marley, taking care of all the paperwork and technical details required.

“I heard you spent your childhood in the underground district within Wall Sina,” Onyankopon said as he watched the waiter leave with their order. “I wasn’t allowed there due to the restrictions on the volunteers, but I heard it was a rough place to live in.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. That piece of information was hardly common knowledge. 

“I think I might have an idea of who babbled to you about that,” the face of a certain four-eyed abnormal popped up on Levi’s mind. “Yes. I was raised as a thug in order to survive that hellhole.”

“Did you have anyone close to you at that time? Your parents? Any siblings?”

Usually, Levi would have found it annoying if people dug into his past. But with Onyankopon, he did not really mind. “I was an only child,” he replied, leaning back on his wheelchair, “My mother died when I was young and the closest thing I had to a father was an uncle who abandoned me as soon as he realized that I could take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s an old story,” he waved his pity off, “I did have two close friends there. Farlan and Isabel. They were as good as a brother and sister to me.” A fond remembrance flitted over his face, as if he could see them in his mind’s eye as he spoke. “The three of us thought life above the ground, in a land touched by the sun would be better. Turns out it is all the same.”

It wasn’t hard for Onyankopon to make out that Farlan and Isabel were probably no more from how Levi’s voice dipped. He changed the topic to something lighter.

“But you finally retired from all your duties and responsibilities. How does it feel to go on vacations to foreign countries?”

“I’m surprised you are dragging me along. Not like I could be of any service anyway, after being permanently bound to this wheelchair,” Levi tapped on the metal armrest. 

“You are too humble, Levi,” Onyankopon shook his head, “I’ve seen you offering guidance to Armin and the others whenever they need it.”

“I help them as much as I can, but in the end, it is nothing more than an old man’s advice.” Levi sighed, remembering a certain someone’s soliloquy in a forest. “Times have changed and perspectives are different. After the rumbling ended, Armin offered me retirement and I took it. But even if I were in top shape, I honestly don’t think I would want to do anything with the Alliance anymore.”

Onyankopon watched Levi as he gazed at the busy road. The man looked broken, like he had lost way too much in life. He reminded him of some of the volunteers who had seen their families killed and hometowns destroyed in front of their own eyes. For previously being known as ‘Humanity’s strongest soldier’, Onyankopon had not seen Levi in action a lot. But the way he held himself together during that day- exactly three years ago, after Odiha- was a testament to his immense internal strength. The man in front of him was a fighter, but the fight had taken its toll on him.

The waiter arrived with steaming drinks and served it on the table.

“How do you drink that bitter bean-juice?” Levi asked as Onyankopon took a careful sip, trying not to burn his tongue in the scalding liquid.

“Six years and you still haven’t warmed up to coffee, have you?”

“I prefer tea, usually that of my own shop.” He sipped his tea, holding it by the rim with his left hand. “But I have to admit, the aroma of coffee is quite enticing.” His voice went back to its hazy tone. “Mike would have liked it. That guy had a sharp nose for things like these.”

Though Onyankopon did not know the details, he knew Mike was probably one of Levi’s previous comrades.

Levi had a habit of talking about his fallen comrades now and then. He did not seem to care if the other person knew them personally or not. Onyankopon assumed that it was to remember and acknowledge their existence and stories, being the last living veteran from his original group.

He heard about the battle of Shiganshina that resulted in the complete decimation of the earlier Survey Corps and wondered if Mike was one of the people who died there. Or maybe he had been one of the many unfortunate victims who were killed by the hands of the pure titans long before. Onyankopon felt a small stab of guilt for following Zeke, who had caused nothing but pain for Levi and the rest of the Survey Corps, but he had his own circumstances. Choosing sides had blinded them from appealing to their common humanity, until Yelena had revealed to him the plan to offer assistance to Paradis before their first scouting expedition six years ago. He had almost convinced himself that the Paradis military would crush them with their titan power before they could put forth that proposal, but then, a certain Survey Corps Commander gave them the warmest welcome they could have received in the island of ‘devils’.

“Brings back memories,” he hummed over his coffee, “Remember, the first time we chatted was over a cup of tea in that tent?”

“Ah yes,” Levi nodded grimly, “Another one of that person’s stupidly optimistic ideas. It was a surprise that you volunteers actually agreed to it.”

There was a silence as Onyankopon knew exactly who he was referring to.

Levi sipped his tea. “Honestly, they’d come up with the most reckless ideas, that Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon gave a small, sad smile. It seemed safe to talk about them. “I have to admit,” he said slowly, “I was shocked when they pointed the barrel of that gun over their one good eye, even if it was unloaded.”

“You don’t know half the trouble Hange caused back in the Survey Corps,” Levi shook his head disapprovingly. “Always blabbing about their latest hypotheses. Putting my entire squad in danger for another titan capture mission. They’d have had their head bitten off by a titan long ago if it wasn’t for their trusty assistant, Moblit. Hell, they went days without taking a damned bath just because something more interesting caught their attention. Sometimes, when I couldn’t bear the stink, I had to knock them out and clean them myself.”

Onyankopon chuckled at his ramble. He had observed Levi and Hange’s inseparable relationship from his time at Paradis. Maybe it was because they were the last ones to survive from their generation, or maybe it extended a little deeper than that. Onyankopon was not completely sure. He gazed at the long scar across Levi’s face, crossing through his one blind eye. If Hange were there, the two of them would have made quite the one-eyed pair.

But Hange wasn’t there as they had sacrificed themself so that he and Levi could sit in peace under a blue umbrella, drinking hot beverages on a sunny day without worrying about anything else.

Levi was still rambling on, “...all those stupid naming ceremonies for the captured titans. At least three Garrison guards used to throw up after each of their experiments. The tantrums they’d throw in Erwin’s office whenever he denied their requests. That Four-eyes once talked to me about titans and their planned experiments for two days straight after we first found out about Eren’s abilities. Can you believe it? Two days!”

There was a bitter aftertaste in Levi’s mouth and he knew it had nothing to do with the tea. A memory of Hange floated in his mind, of them carefully dabbing medicated cotton over Eren’s face after he had kicked the hell out of him in the courtroom all those years ago. He remembered Hange chiding him for having gone too far and declaring that they’d never kill Eren.

His stomach twisted at the irony of how everything played out in the end.

Onyankopon’s voice stirred him out of his thoughts. “It must have been hard for them to pursue their scientific research after they became the commander.”

“It did take a huge toll on them,” Levi agreed, “Erwin’s shoes would have been hard for anyone to fill. But he himself chose them as his successor and they did their job well, even if all odds were against them.” He gave a short sigh through his nose. “But over the years, they changed too much.”

Levi had noticed all the times when Hange had faked a smile to cover up their exhaustion. They tried to maintain their cheerful façade through all the uncertainty to keep their subordinates from becoming concerned about their mental well-being, but from his time with the past two commanders, Levi knew the bone-crushing pressure they were under.

He had spotted the missing tea from his shelf during all those late nights when Hange had fallen asleep on their desk after pulling multiple all-nighters. Although they weren’t new to burning the midnight oil, the commander’s work was grueling. Adding to that, the knowledge and responsibility of dealing with an entire world full of potential enemies weighed them down incredibly. Only he knew how tired and defeated Erwin had looked during his last moments with him. In a way, the role demanded much more from Hange than it did from Erwin himself.

“You mean they were more excitable before?” Onyankopon asked, “I really did not think they could look more starry-eyed than while they were being introduced to all the new technology from Marley.” He chuckled, “The way they whooped after the success of the new improved 3DMG test session was unforgettable.”

Levi set down his empty cup. “Hange was always a vocal advocate for technological advancement. Their inventions helped to get rid of all the pure titans in the island without much loss of human life. When they were given the hope that the rest of the world was not as cruel as we thought it was- but a place where they could learn and discover- that was when I saw them truly happy for the last time. They hoped to make peace when we left off for our first Marley visit. But we both know how that ended.”

Ah, yes that Marley trip, Onyankopon thought as a tense silence settled between them, The time when everything spiraled out of control. To ease the heavy pauses, he decided to bring up some good memories from back then.

“Remember the time when Hange bought that lollipop from that clown just so that he’d stop stalking you? And the time when they tried to feed carrots to a car?”

Thankfully, it seemed to work as Levi snorted. “Shitty-Glasses was supposed to be the smartest of us all,” he said, “Yet, that was still better than the way they squealed after the camera flash the first time we took a picture in Azumabito's place. Now that was just plain embarrassing.”

Onyankopon smiled. When Levi's squad was out drinking, he had insisted Levi and Hange to take a photograph with himself and the Azumabitos as a keepsake memory of their first official trip outside Paradis. Hopes were ripe that night, with the peace conference scheduled for the next day. To keep their optimism up, they had a small dance session in which Hange had dragged Levi with them and had successfully managed two rounds around the ballroom before Levi remarked that it was ridiculous and sulked in a corner for the rest of the night with a wine glass on hand. After which Hange teased him and invited Onyankopon to give them company instead.

When the camera was ready, they were all suited up- with hats placed on their heads despite the fact that it was evening- just for the sake of the photograph session. Onyankopon knew that the Paradisians had never taken a picture before, so his eyes were on Levi and Hange instead of the camera.

Their reactions did not disappoint.

Hange squealed as the flash lit up the room and Levi flinched, grimacing at its sudden brightness. The photograph was quite comical when it was developed: Hange with their mouth slightly open, Levi with his eyes half closed and Onyankopon’s lips in an amused half-smile as he gazed at them.

“To be honest, you looked quite shaken at the flash yourself,” he pointed out to Levi.

“Yes, but I did not wake up everyone in a fifty mile radius within the building.”

“It didn’t seem to wake the kids up, though.”

“What do you expect? Not even Hange can wake up a bunch of hungover brats who had drank all night and ended up passed out on each other.”

“The three of us had to carry them back, didn’t we?”

“Only for Sasha to puke all over the new suit I wore for the photoshoot.”

Onyankopon laughed at that memory. The waiter came over with the bill and he paid it before Levi could reach for his own wallet.

“I told you before,” he said to Levi as he handed over the money, “This vacation is entirely on me.”

“Thanks,” Levi kept his wallet back inside his pocket, knowing that arguing about it would not change Onyankopon’s mind.

They sat in silence for a while, gazing at the people walking around, exploring the shops. Levi got a few quick stares now and then because of his heavily scarred face, but he did not care. He was used to people staring at him; the annoying looks of envy and awe when he was considered as humanity’s strongest soldier, glares of anger from the military higher-ups after he had brought back Armin instead of Erwin during the battle of Shiganshina, and gazes of pity after he had been severely injured due to the thunder spear, thanks to that shitty monkey.

“I wonder what happened to that photograph,” he murmured, his mind wandering back to that day in Marley.

“It was left in Paradis,” Onyankopon replied, “The militants probably disposed of it along with the rest of our belongings after we were declared traitors. It’s been three years after all.”

Levi’s heart sank. That was the last piece of Hange he had left, apart from the scars they had stitched across his face. If everything was disposed of, that would mean that the badges he had collected from the uniforms of his former comrades, his letters, Hange’s research notes, Moblit’s sketches from the night they visited a bar after work, all of their personal belongings- everything had been burnt or destroyed. Apart from Erwin’s grave, there was nothing left for him back in Paradis- the place the Survey Corps dedicated their lives and hearts for all those years.

He masked his bitterness, “It was just a piece of paper anyway.”

Onyankopon did not say anything. The cost of freedom had been incredibly heavy for both of them.

“It’s been three years, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Levi remembered that moment when the spirits of his comrades appeared in front of him as he sat battered and broken. The old Survey Corps, with whom he had spent so many years fighting, resting, experimenting and pushing through every loss, every death and every failure together. He had finally finished their job. He had taken all of their dedicated hearts with him and won for them.

His final salute both crushed his soul and set him free.

A part of him wanted to depart with them. His duty was done, Zeke was killed, the rumbling was stopped and the world was finally free of titans. What use would he be to anyone anymore?

But he knew that the others would want him to live the life that they couldn’t. To explore the world and all it had to offer. To make the dream of world-peace come true.

So, he decided that he would go on, and when his time finally comes, he would stand tall among his noble comrades and tell them stories of the world they never got to see.

Levi hesitated for a moment before turning to Onyankopon.

“Do you think they’re still watching over us?”

Onyankopon didn’t miss a beat.

“I’m sure they are.”

Gabi and Falco reappeared from the crowd, with half-eaten ice cream cones in their hands. The brats had grown so much since the first time he had seen them, all beaten up and bruised on that zeppelin three years ago. Now they looked happy and content, their eyes shining with hope, optimism and love.

Hange’s words from all those years ago played in his mind.

I want everyone to feel safe again soon. I want this to be a world where people can live without fighting each other.

There was still a long way to go for that, but with the threat of the titans gone, they only had humans to negotiate with. Though that probably did not make it any easier, peace was still an option. He’d leave that to Armin and Historia.

Erwin and Hange would have loved it here. All the new places and technology, exotic food, new discoveries; it would have blown their minds. Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if that bastard Floch did not show up to shoot holes in that fuel tank. Hange would have been alive, they would have boarded the plane together, they could have seen the flying titan and the previous titan shifters. It might have probably returned them to their normal, curious self again.

They could have survived together.

What would Hange have done now that the titans, their life’s work, were gone forever? The two of them had never really discussed such situations, for they never imagined such a day would actually come to be. For them, a world without the threat of titans was a distant fantasy. But if Hange were alive, they’d have probably headed the peace talks. They were never the one to stay out of the action anyway.

“Sorry, we were a little late,” Falco said as he approached them, “Shall we go?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Falco popped the rest of the ice cream in his mouth before silently pulling the wheelchair by its handle without being prompted to. He was a sweet kid. Erwin, Hange and the rest of his old squad- Petra, Oulo, Eld, Gunther- would have liked him.

Levi picked up a newspaper from a vendor, to see if there were any mentions of the peace committee who had set sail for Paradis earlier that day. As they made their way through the street, he winced as the wheel stumbled over a small pothole.

“I’m so sorry,” Falco exclaimed.

“No, that’s fine,” he rubbed his back. “Times like these are when I really miss Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon laughed, “They’d have come up with a crazy convenient wheelchair, custom-made for you.”

“Knowing them, they would have probably attached an engine and the 3DMG trigger-anchor system complete with a safety belt into the wheelchair,” he shook his head. “Then again, I think they might have also pushed me down a slope as a test run, so maybe I’m safer this way.”

A distant hum of an engine made all of them look above.

A plane, similar to the one they had taken off from in Odiha, flew past the sky, its shadow falling on them as it streaked by.

For the kids, it was just another ordinary plane they stared fascinated at. But for him, something about it felt reassuring.

It was almost as if…

Levi glanced at Onyankopon, who gave him a knowing look.

So, they were watching us after all.

[thisgirlsays22]

You Are Not Alone (Part 1)

Rating: E

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin

Pairing(s): Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Eren Yeager/ Levi

Word Count: 1.8K

Additional Tags: Post-canon, angst, smut More Tags On AO3

Summary:

Mikasa relishes in her newfound sense of freedom. Loneliness does not mean she is alone.

A prequel and sequel to Home and I Know (I Am the One in Love).

Written for the wonderful @dreamxxdream as a (belated) birthday gift. Nadine, you are a wonderful friend and I am very lucky to have you! 

And thank you to @fluffymusketeer for the beta <3333

Read on Ao3 or under the cut.

The moment Levi arrived at her door, Mikasa knew that Eren’s happiness was just around the corner. She could sense it, the same way Sasha always sensed when they needed to slow their movements to sneak up on prey; the way Armin could sense when the political tide was turning against Historia; the way Jean could sense when Mikasa needed to be alone.

She had been taken aback by the unexpected sight of Levi on her front porch. “You’re not Jean.”

And she wasn’t Eren. Levi’s eyes flicked behind her to the dark corridor as though expecting him to be there, waiting.

“He’s not here.”

“I didn’t think he was.”

“You were hoping.”

Levi didn’t answer. Mikasa stepped aside to let him in, and directed him to her small living room. She gestured for him to sit on the sofa--imported from Marley, a gift from Sasha and Connie when she’d moved in--and went to fetch a tray of tea and biscuits from the kitchen.

While the tea was boiling she assembled the tea set, a housewarming gift from Jean, white and delicate with tiny blue birds painted through the center of each cup and all around the teapot. She stared down at the tray, and her thoughts drifted to Eren, as they often did, about whether now he’d come home or if Levi’s return would send him further into the forest of his self-imposed exile.

“He’s living in a stupid cabin now,” she announced as she placed the tray in front of Levi, pushing the plate of biscuits towards him.

Levi was dressed more casually than Mikasa was used to--no cravat, simple black shirt and casual trousers--but his back was rigid, posture perfect as he gave her a short nod and reached for the tea. His expression remained impassive as ever, but Mikasa thought his eyes looked a little sadder than last she’d seen him.  

“When did he leave?”

She shrugged. “Not too long after you.”

Levi’s hand briefly stilled as he brought the cup to his lips. Mikasa took note of the hesitation with mild interest.  

“Jean’s going to visit him.” She peered at Levi as she took a delicate sip from her cup.  “I was actually expecting him to stop by today before he left.”

“Hm.”

“Jean wouldn’t mind if you went instead. It’ll stop him from complaining.”

“Does Eren keep the place clean?”

“You know better than anyone that he was always the best at cleaning.”

Levi gave her a small smile. “Yeah, the Corps should have given him a damn medal.”

She returned the smile and was about to ask about Marley when there was a knock at the door, sharp and precise.

This time it was Jean, dressed in his work clothes. Crisp, white button-down over his most sensible trousers. His hair was neat, perfectly styled, and she looked forward to the damage she’d wreck on it.

“Hey,” he said, hands landing on her waist, head tilting forward to kiss her.

“I have company,” she said, touching a hand to his chest. He straightened, disappointment clouding his face.

He followed her through to the living room, visibly surprised when he spotted Levi. Jean straightened instinctively, and for a moment Mikasa thought he might salute. Levi had been gone long enough that he could be excused for reverting to old habits.

“It’s good to see you, si--Levi.” Jean corrected himself smoothly as Levi arched an eyebrow.

“You too, Jean.”

“I’ll be in Marley in a few weeks for work. I was going to see if you were free for a meal.”

A thought occurred to Mikasa. “You saw each other last time Jean was in Marley, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that's right,” Jean said, and Levi nodded.

That had been right before Eren’s departure, hadn’t it? Before his childish rant about how nowhere felt like home.

In his letters he sounded lonely, but nothing she wrote brought him back. A new strategy had appeared in her doorway today. He hadn’t exactly said yes earlier, though.  

“Jean, you wouldn’t mind if Levi went to see Eren, would you?”

Levi eyed Mikasa warily.

“Oh, you mean a weekend in my own bed instead of on Eren’s floor? No, I don’t mind.”

“Sure, I’ll go,” Levi said, putting down his cup. “I suppose I could break his legs for you and drag him back home, if that’s what you want.”

“That won’t be necessary. You just need to bring him some supplies, make sure he hasn’t done anything too stupid,” Mikasa said.  

“I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Better you than me.” Jean shrugged his jacket off and draped it over one of the chairs. “You can have a crack at him.”

“How are the others then?” Levi asked, brushing past Jean’s remark.

“Historia’s trying to raise the import taxes again,” Mikasa said.

Levi tilted his chin in Jean’s direction. “Bet you love that.”

Jean leant back in his chair, looking miserable. “It’s causing me no end of trouble, but that’s the job.”

“How’s your station?” Mikasa asked Levi.  

“Paint drying would be more interesting. They’re a bunch of lazy bastards.”

“My recruits aren’t much better,” Mikasa said. “I’m glad they can afford to be soft, but…”

“If something happens they won’t be prepared.”

Mikasa nodded. “No matter how much we prepare them.”

“Well, that’s where I come in. I keep the peace.” Jean sat up straight and puffed up his chest.  

The afternoon drifted by as they eased back into one another’s company. Jean stopped speaking so stiffly to Levi and started talking to him like a friend again. Levi’s posture relaxed and he laughed at Mikasa’s stories (mostly the one one’s that centred around Hanji and the latest batch of recruits they were wrangling).  

When the sky started to darken, Levi stood to say his goodbyes. He cleared his throat, and said, “Give me the supplies for Eren, then. I’ll leave in the morning.”

She and Jean exchanged looks, and Levi looked annoyed.

“Let me get the bag,” she said.  

Her love for Eren had always been as difficult to grasp as water. The cruel world as she knew it had revolved around him. A brother, a friend, the object of some indulgent, adolescent fantasties.

But over time that love had taken shape and settled. Strong and sure, but no longer all-consuming. It had still been painful to watch him struggle after the war, unable to help. As she sent Levi off with supplies and directions, she felt something ease in her chest.

After Levi was gone, Jean turned to her. “Do you think Levi’s going there to fuck some sense into him?”

“I have no idea anymore. I thought Levi just wasn’t…”

“Into men?”

“Into anyone.”

Jean wrinkled his nose. “Eren used to have it bad for him. It was embarrassing to watch.”

He was right. Eren had acted like a lovesick idiot at one point during their teens--earning himself both good and ill-natured teasing. His mooning had petered out before the war have moved to Marleyan shores, but...after the war, no matter how miserable Eren could be, he always made space for Levi. They’d been friends.

“Whatever the hell is going on with them, I hope they figure it out,” she said. Then she strolled in the direction of her bedroom, a sway in her hips, and said over her shoulder, “Come on, Ambassador Kirschtein.”

Jean buttoned up his shirt, running a hand over it to smooth the wrinkles. “You’re still coming with me to the palace next week? For the fundraiser?”  

She stood before him, still naked, and did up one of the buttons he’d missed. “Ask whoever you’re stringing along this week to go with you.”

Jean huffed, face red. “I’m not stringing anyone along,” he sputtered. “Just because the last date you went on was a year ago, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t have any fun.”

She rolled her eyes. He was getting hard again as he looked at her, and she palmed his cock through his underwear. Jean stopped fussing with his shirt and pushed her back down on the bed, hovering over her.

“You already said you’d go,” he murmured, appealing to her honor rather than her sympathy. A clever strategy. His hard length pressed between her legs, and she rubbed herself against him, wanting more.

“Alright,” she conceded, pushing his shoulders down towards her naval. “I’m not going to dance, though.”

“Fine. I promise we won’t have any fun at all, and you can mope all you like.” He guided himself down until his head was between her legs, and she ran her fingers through the darker tips of his hair.

She laughed in spite of herself, smiling up at the ceiling as he began to tease her. “We could play practical jokes on Sasha again.”

Jean swirled his tongue around her clit, pace slow and even the way she liked, and when he looked up at her he grinned. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

“If she gets up to use the bathroom, hide some of her food.”

“She’d never leave her food unguarded.”

“It happened last time.”

“Well then, we’ll keep watch over Sasha’s food for the evening. Does that mean you’ll come?”

“Yes, I suppose it does.” Shit. This meant she’d have to buy a new dress.

Jean moved a hand up to rub her nipple between his fingers and she moaned, bucking her hips.  

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?” she asked.

Jean opened his mouth to reply, but she changed her mind. She pulled him up, wrapped her legs around him, and flipped them over. “Actually, this time I think I’ll fuck you.”

“Hell yeah,” Jean breathed, looking up at her reverently as she sank down on his cock.

Later, hand on the doorknob, he turned and asked her. “Do you really not care if I’m seeing other people?”

“I’ve already told you I don’t.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to check again. What you said earlier about stringing people along...I’m not...”

“I know,” she said. She was the problem, not Jean.

He nodded and stepped out into the night. She could have asked him to stay; he probably would have, despite the luncheon he was attending the next day. But the loneliness, the kind that hated company, wrapped its hands around her throat and kept the words from coming. Jean didn’t push the matter, but he gave her a quick kiss before he walked out the door.  

That night, lying in her bed, she reached for her notebook on her bedside table and wrote:

You are not alone.

You are not alone.

You are NOT alone.

Over and over until she hit the end of the page. She wrote them for herself, for Eren. As though she could will them to come true.

She’d taken to sleeping with things in the bed when Jean wasn’t there--clothes, notebooks, pens. In quiet moments like these, surrounded by the stillness of the night, the soft chirping of crickets outside her window, she let herself miss them all.

Of its own accord, her hand slid down the opposite side of the bed. She fell asleep with her notebook by her head.

[jurassicwinchesters]

Moonlight and Magic

Word Count: 3,794

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: violence, witchcraft

The moon casts a bright, silver light over the garden as I carefully pick a handful of leaves from the leafy plant. After plucking several of the soft leaves, I take one last glance around the garden to make sure there’s no other herbs I’ll need. The garden is one of my proudest accomplishments. It’s in the small backyard of my even smaller house. My peeling white fence encloses the small space filled with various herbs and plants. Fairy lights decorate the edges of the fence, and doorway above my backdoor. My neighbor’s large dogwood tree intrudes my backyard, hanging over the far end of my garden, brimming with white flowers that spill all over my sweet, little garden. Surrounding the border of the fence and concrete patio are many, many pots filled with different herbs for my practice. From flowering hawthorn to lush basil to delicate caraway, each plant is equally important in protection against the supernatural. 

I take one last appreciative glance at my compact garden, and head back inside, with a fistful of hawthorn for my client.

“Almost ready?”

“Yes Ms. Bandel, I’m just finishing the mix, then you can be on your way,” I reply to the sweet, but impatient old lady. Many of my clients around this area are old ladies looking for protection against the stories they’ve heard about the things that go bump in the night. Down here in Georgia, folktales and legends are commonly passed down through generations, so the people that are smart enough to believe the stories come to me for protection. Ever since her heroic militant husband passed, Ms. Bandel became one of my best customers, she says since Roger isn’t around to protect her anymore, she needs some way to look out for herself.

I bring the fistful of hawthorn I just plucked to my grinding bowl. I toss the leaves in the bowl along with the beady aspen seeds, plump blackthorn berries, and prickly holly. I grab my stone pestle and mash up the mixture, carefully but efficiently, all while listening to Ms. Bendel blab on about what her knitting group is working on. When the herbs have been grinded into a sticky paste, I transfer it into a small condiment container for Ms. Bendel.

“Here ya go ma’am. Just apply this paste as three small dots above your right eyebrow before you go to bed, it’ll be sure to protect you against the vampires you heard about,” I gently explain to my elderly client.

“Yes, yes, thank you sweetie. You really are so gifted, just like your auntie was.”

I flinch at the mention of my recently deceased aunt, feeling a surge of emotions rise up. I push it to the back of my mind as I lead Ms. Bendel through my very cluttered house, and out my creaky door.

As I walk back toward my kitchen to clean up, my thoughts keep going to my aunt. She died about three months ago, and I’ve taken over her practice as an herbal witch since then. My dad was never in my life, and my mom died a quick, painful death of lung cancer when I was only two. My aunt raised me, against my mom’s dying wishes. My mom was pretty uptight, living a more “lavish and expensive” lifestyle than my aunt ever did. Basically my mom was a rich, entitled woman who spent her summers at the country club and winters skiing in Aspen whereas my aunt lived in the small house I currently live in, growing herbs and practicing witchcraft. It’s safe to say their lifestyle rift caused a minor disliking between the two sisters. Somehow after my mom passed, I still got sent to live with my aunt Marley. Since a very young age I was homeschooled and taught the ins and outs of herbal witchcraft. Most kids grow up learning about the mitosis and the civil war and how to solve algebraic equations. I grew up learning which herbs protect against which creatures, and how to keep plants alive and growing in the cool Georgia winters. It was more of an untraditional upbringing, but I’m happy with it nonetheless.

After my aunt’s passing, things haven’t been the same. I’ve been lonely and sad and every day I’m constantly aching for her to come back. I feel like the other half of me was lost, and I can’t stop looking, and waiting for it to come back. Every night I wake up sweaty and confused as I try to drag myself from the horrible nightmares forcing me to relive Marley’s death. I’ve dealt with them every night since she died, an endless, vicious cycle of struggling to fall asleep, suffering through the terrible dream, then waking up horribly scared and unaware of my surroundings. After three months, I’m still waiting for them to get better.

Once I finish up cleaning and putting away the tools I used for my clients of the day, I head to my bedroom. I slip out of my sundress, and into pajamas, and head to the bathroom. After washing my face, and brushing my teeth, I finally slip into bed. I sink into my mattress, and pull my covers all the way up to my chin, trying to settle into a more comfortable position. I start the painstakingly long process of falling asleep, thinking about my clients from the day. As I’m reviewing all the serums, powders, and herbal pastes I made today, I start to slip into a light, uneasy sleep.

-

I hear the familiar chanting of the incantation start, faintly at first, but I know it will get only get louder and louder. Then I hear the first scream. I’m sitting at our small table, tucked into the nook of the kitchen, sipping on tea with a book in my hands.

“Marley? What’s wrong?” I yell out, concerned for my aunt. I stand up from the table and start to cautiously look for her. I already know what’s going to happen next, but my body keeps taking me through the motions.

I creep down our narrow hallway, the old wood floors creaking beneath my feet. The chanting from outside has become louder now, filling my head with the foreign language, temporarily distracting me from what I’m about to see. I hear my aunts ragged breathing and gasping breath from her bedroom. I burst into her room and see the familiar scene unfolding before me. Marley lying on the ground in the corner of the bedroom, breathing heavy, clutching her bleeding stomach. Ruby red blood spilling from her abdomen, then all over my hands as I shakily try to help her.

“Marley! No!” I scream through my terror.

“Get out! You have to go Y/n! They’ll come for you too!” Marley rasps out, trying with all her dying might. The incantation is now being shouted, the strange words making the setting even more eerie.

“I c-can’t leave you. I love you, please don’t leave me,” I breathe out, barely more than a whisper as I see the light quickly leaving my aunt’s eyes. She reaches up to cup my face, giving me one last look of admiration, before the last of the brightness leeches out of her emerald eyes. Suddenly the chanting stops, and before my sobbing starts I’m pulled from the nightmare.

I sit up with a gasp, blinking my surroundings into existence. I immediately feel a surge of my dinner rising up, I run to the bathroom before I can even remember where I am. I sink onto the cool tile flooring, barely making it to the toilet before I empty the contents of my stomach into the bowl. Over and over again, my stomach heaving and heaving. There are tears streaming down my face, and I feel my anxiety quickly rising. Once my stomach has been emptied I sink back against the wall, focusing on the coolness of the floor. My mind is still groggy, but I can start to identify where I am. This is how it goes every night: fall into a light sleep, being forced to relive my aunt’s death, then being ripped out of the dream to find myself throwing up in the bathroom.

After giving myself a little more time to recover, I decide I won’t be able to fall back asleep. I get up and shower, and start my day at the lovely hour of five in the morning. After getting dressed, I wander over to my kitchen to make breakfast. I whip up some toast with eggs and a big cup of ginger tea.

As I’m sitting and enjoying my tea and a book about the benefits of basil I hear hands pounding at my door. I glance at the clock skeptically, it’s six-thirty. I quickly grab a small kitchen knife for protection, and pad lightly to the door and glance through the tiny hole in the door to see who my visitor may be.

Two men stand on my concrete doorstep. One unnaturally tall with long locks, the other shorter, but more traditionally handsome with emerald eyes and soft, pink lips. I immediately get a queasy, butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach as I see him. Deciding they look trustworthy enough, I unlock my many locks, and peer around the white door.

“Uh, how can I help you boys?” I ask cautiously, nervously.

“Are you Y/n?” The tall one asks uneasily. “I’m sorry we’re here this early, I hope we didn’t wake you, but we need your help.”

“Oh, uh sure, come on in,” I say, opening the door to let the strangers in. I apologize for the clutter of plants and books, and lead them to my kitchen nook.

“Have a seat,” I explain, gesturing to the table, “Can I get you boys anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“No thanks,” the handsome one says with a smirk. I feel heat start to creep up my neck into my cheeks, so I quickly turn away and busy myself.

“So, uh, what brings you guys here?” I ask, finally sliding into a chair across from the two of them.

“Well, we need your help with a case we’re working on, we’re hunters,” the big one explains. I immediately tense up at the mention of hunters. Technically as a witch I’m supernatural, or at least involved in supernatural practice, so hunters should be hunting me.

“I’m not so sure I can help you, I don’t typically work for your type,” I explain anxiously.

“No, no you can,” the cute one explains, “Look, Y/n, we know you’re a witch, and we know you have a small practice. We also know you’re one of the good ones, and we really need your help.”

“Ok well maybe, just tell me what you need help with first. And names, what are your names?”

“I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam,” Dean explains, and I instantly jump out of my chair. These are the Winchesters, and that realization sends a chill down to my bones.

“You need to leave. Now,” I say sternly, ushering the boys out of their chairs.

“Wait, wait, what’s happening?”

“I can’t be seen helping you two. Hunters are bad enough, but the Winchesters, if I helped you two that would practically be a death wish!” I exclaim, as I steer the boys out of my kitchen and to the front door.

“Why? Y/n we can help you! We can protect you from whatever is making you so jumpy! We’re hunters, just let us help,” Dean says, giving me a look that nearly makes me melt into the floor. I consider it, the risk of helping the Winchesters. I already have a huge target on my back because of my practice. A supernatural being helping protect humans against other supernatural beings, especially witches. There are many covens, high covens, hunting me for what I do. If these covens ever heard even a rumor of me helping the Winchesters, I’d be dead in no time. But at the same time they may be able to help me. The Winchesters may be able to protect me as they said, and they could help me avenge my aunt.

“Fine. I’ll help you guys, but there are some conditions. First, I can’t meet with you guys here, there’s too many watchful eyes around this area, plus I’ll have to take some precautions before I meet with you again. Second, you need to uphold your part of the bargain by protecting me, and I need your help with something,” I finally say after my careful consideration. I watch excitement spark in Dean’s eyes, and relief in Sam’s.

“Thank you, thank you so much Y/n. This means so much to us,” Sam gratefully says.

“So I need to know what exactly I can do for you boys, so I can do it and then bring it to you in another location,” I explain.

“Well, we’re on a case involving a small coven of witches, only about two or three we think. We just need help locating them, we’ve been tracking them for weeks and we know they’re around this area, but we can’t pinpoint their location. Do you have anything that could help us?”

“Well locating people is actually kind of tricky. I don’t have much experience in the spell side of witchcraft, but I’ll look through the books and see if there’s something I can do. But there is a bigger risk for me working on a case of witches…” I say quietly. Partly because I’m embarrassed about my lack of skill when it comes to spells, and partly because I’m concerned for the case. As an herbal witch I typically just work with herbs and plants, and I can take small amounts of natural energy from the plants to do minor spells. Going against a coven is dangerous because I’m not nearly as powerful as dark magic witches, I don’t mess with the devil and demons, too creepy for me. “I’ll give you guys a call if I figure something out, then we can meet somewhere where I’ll be able to help you.”

After getting their numbers, and walking them out the door I finally let out a big sigh and take a seat in my favorite reading chair. I searched through my stacks of books and finally found an ancient looking spell book that should be able to help me.

-

It’s been about two weeks since I started working with the Winchesters. Since then, not much has happened. I’ve meet with the boys only a couple times, taking the necessary measures before doing so. Marley taught me at a very young age to mask myself, a simple blend of herbs and a short incantation that will keep me hidden from any witches or magic within a ten mile radius. Every time I went to meet the Winchesters, I used the spell, just in case.

In the last two weeks I’ve also learned a location spell. I started by reading up for hours and hours on one particular spell involving a map. Then I started to practice, first locating myself, then the Winchesters, until I knew it was perfect. Now today is finally time to locate the coven, hopefully.

The boys and I will meet at a predetermined location, our towns botanical garden. We chose this place because surrounded by plants puts me at my most powerful. Once we’re there, I’ll perform the spell, hopefully locating the coven. From there, Sam and Dean will proceed to that location, and kill the coven. Then from there we’ll work on avenging my aunt’s death.

In a small backpack I pack a small amount of herbs that will help give me strength and power, my spellbook, a map of the county, and a knife just in case. Then I throw on some grey jeans, a white shirt, a green army jacket, and boots. I throw my long hair in a braid to keep it out of the way. I grab my keys and double check I have everything I need in my backpack, then head out.

When I get to the garden Sam and Dean are already waiting. We decided to meet in the rose garden because they are linked to strength and protection.

“Hey boys, ready?” I say with a confident smile. Dean throws back a smirk that makes me blush, and Sam just nods his head. “Let’s get started then.”

I grab my herbs and place the leaves of hydrilla, maral root, and bay in a wide circle around an empty patch of dirt in the garden. I then apply a swipe of balm of gilead above both my eyebrows and down my neck for extra strength. The boys stare at me wide eyed whilst I do all this, but I ignore them and focus on what I’m about to do.

“Ok, it’s time now,” I say more to myself than the boys. I take one reassuring breath, and enter the circle of leaves. Then I kneel down and spread the map before me. I close my eyes and place my hands on the map and start my incantation. “Salva me locate, locate adiuva me, suscipe me in locis ubicumque habitant. Sequuntur versus me et eripe me de Coven.”

As I continue the incantation, the wind around us starts to blow, rustling the flowers surrounding me, but my circle of leaves stays put, grounding me. I dig deep inside of me, down to the well of power and I tug at the power, urging it to be released. I feel the power travel up through myself, until it travels down my arms, down to my hands on the map. A faint flow spreads beneath my hands as the map starts to heat up, shrinking around the edges, narrowing down the location. Right before I feel my energy deplete the fire suddenly stops, leaving a circle containing the location of the coven.

“Woah,” Dean breathes out under his breath. “Did it work?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I say shakily, feeling weak from the spell. I grab the small section of the map left, and let out a gasp. “I know this neighborhood, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

“Great, all the easier for us then,” Dean chuckles. He then walks over to me, offering me a hand to help me up. I hesitate for a moment, looking into his sparkling, forest green eyes. I snap out of the trance he always seems to put on me, and take his hand. A shiver goes through my body as our hands meet, and I look away as I feel the heat creep into my face.

“Oh, well uh I better get going then. Um good luck with the witches,” I mumble as I snatch my belongings, and speed off to my car.

As I drive home I can’t help but think about how much of an embarrassment I am. Why can’t I just act normal around Dean? Why does he cast such a spell on me? It’s so frustrating, I’m usually so confident with guys, but there’s just something about Dean that makes me so shy and nervous. I’m still thinking about Dean as I pull into my driveway and stroll into my house. I wander over to the kitchen and fill my watering can with water and sea urchin powder, the secret to keeping plants growing in the brisk winter months. As I’m in my garden, watering my plants, my mind drifts back to Dean’s chestnut hair and plump lips. These silly thoughts keep me from noticing the woman holding the knife until it’s at my neck.

“You silly child, you silly, ignorant child. Didn’t your dear old aunt teach you better. Well too late now, since we killed her,” the woman says sharply from behind me, keeping the cool blade pressed against my neck.

My heart sinks with the realizations coming to me. First, I’m about to die. Second, the coven Sam and Dean was hunting wasn’t a small little coven, but one of the most powerful covens in history. The coven that killed my aunt, and that’s about to kill me. And the coven leader, Circe, is the one holding a blade to my throat.

“H-how did you find me, I- the spell, I used the invisibility spell,” I stammer, still in shock. The coven leader now shoves me through my back door and into my house, pressing the dagger harder into my neck with each step. As we enter the house, a scene I was not expecting unfolds before me.

Sam and Dean stand in my doorway, guns held high pointing toward the two other witches standing in my kitchen.

“Y/n! You bitch, let her go,” Dean shouts, whipping his gun toward the woman behind me.

“Dean no! Stop, she’s too powerful, you can’t do anything,” I explain defeatedly. Sam and Dean look at me confused, and I just silently shake my head.

“Finally, the first smart thing that’s ever come out of your mouth,” Circe says with a scoff. “There are two ways this can go down; Y/n comes willingly with us, and we kill Sam and Dean quickly, or the three of you attempt to put up a fight, and we kill you slowly, then take Y/n.”

“The second way!” Dean yells. My heart sinks at the thought of losing Sam or Dean, and panic starts to creep in.

“No! Listen Circe, I’ll go with you, just please don’t hurt them, I’m begging you,” I plead, tears starting to fall.

“Do you think I’m a fool you impish child? Let these hunters go just so they can track my coven down and kill us, though they sure did have trouble finding us the first time,” Circe says triumphantly.

Before I can respond, the first shot is fired, hitting one of the lesser witches, Jadis, in the thigh. She lets out a scream and while Circe is temporarily distracted, I whirl out of her hold on me, knocking the silver dagger out of her hand. Sam and Dean take this opportunity to fire again, but before they can hit anyone they’re thrown against my living room wall by an invisible force. Circe then pins them against the wall, keeping them in place. I try to run at Circe with the knife, but with a simple flick of the wrist the dagger shoots out of my grip.

“What a sad, sad attempt at saving Y/n. I expected more, especially from the Winchesters. Well too bad I can’t stay for the fun, but Y/n and I have places to be,” Circe articulates, every word making my heart sink further and further into my chest.

“Stop, stop! We’ll do anything, just let her go!” Sam shouts furiously, normally I would be touched by the attempt to save me, but all I can think about is Dean’s slow death at the hands of this coven. I start bawling, distracting me from the words Circe is now chanting. Then the pain sets in. I let out a scream of agony as every nerve in my head starts on fire. I can faintly hear Sam and Dean yelling in the background as I fall to the ground in pain, my head slamming against my wood floor. My whole head is white-hot with a searing pain. The edges of my vision start to go black, but none of that matters. The pain is all I can feel, consuming my entire body. I pray and pray for death, hoping something will stop this torture.

“STOP! STOP! SOMEONE HELP ME!” I scream through the searing pain, “SAM, DEAN HEL-” My sentence is cut short as I slip away into a sweet, sweet darkness.