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littlerequiem · 2 months ago

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we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> Crossposted on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

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

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

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah," he says.

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

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

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

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

“Why? You never bothered before."

"Ouch. Harsh.”

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

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

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

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

“You don’t care?”

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

Oh you’re taunting him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Levi locks eyes with you. “A job?”

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

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

“Why the hurry?"

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

“You're not.”

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

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

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

And yet—

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

Well, so much for that, anyway.

“You flew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some.”)

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

“Do what you want.”)

(“Is the sea always as pretty?”

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

"How poetic.")

(“Look, Levi! A car.”

“It looks dangerous.”

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

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What brings you here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

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

Next to him, he hears you snort.

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

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

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

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

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

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

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

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

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

He hands you the toast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

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

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Levi mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like… what?”

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

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

“My… favorite sight?”

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

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

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

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

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

Of course, reality had caught up.

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

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

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

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

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

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

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

What was it like without me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s the thing about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet…

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

“Oh... does it still hurt a lot?”

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

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

He nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

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

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

Levi waits... and waits.

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

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

At that, Levi has to frown.

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

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

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

Levi stays silent.

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

“Hey—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

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

Levi’s throat is heavy. “We all did.”

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

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only when you don’t clean.”

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

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

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

Oh.

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

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

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

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

He forces his mouth open but instead of words—

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

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

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

You’re on the floor.

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

You’re hyperventilating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can.”

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

“But you’re not alone.”

Your knuckles tighten, but your breath falters.

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

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

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

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

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

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

"I... I guess not."

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

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

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket.

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

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

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

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

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

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

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

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

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

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

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

"Is that right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A/N: Thanks for reading! I was really touched by all the engagement the first chapter got, truly, so thank you for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hey, if you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts in any shape or form! Take care <3

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candycandy00 · 8 months ago

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if i am not too late, can we get geto in mafia town where he is the interrogator. congrats on the 2k!!! i'll look forward to reading everything ❤��🌻

The Sweetest Torture - A Geto Suguru x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Mafia AU. Edging. Light bondage (handcuffs). Oral sex.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Likes are welcome and loved but comments and reblogs make me all warm and squishy inside! Dividers by @benkeibear!

How did it come to this? An hour ago you were waiting tables at the small cafe you work at. Now you’re in some dank basement, sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair, your wrists handcuffed behind your back.

You live in a Mafia town. The local Falzone Mafia family controls the whole area, and though they can be intimidating, they’re overall easy to get along with. They generally do more good than harm, helping the local economy by bringing in tourists to their casino and keeping all crime but their own practically nonexistent. A few of them come into the cafe often, and one of them in particular has caught your eye.

He’s from Japan, but he’s been with the Falzone family since he was a child, according to him. His name is Suguru, and he’s unbelievably beautiful. He has the sort of beauty that stops people dead in their tracks, forcing them to look at him until he’s out of sight.

He stops in the cafe almost every day, always ordering a coffee and a pastry. He’s given you a few flirty, suggestive comments, and in response you let him know you were interested. But he’s yet to make a move since then. In fact he cooled off completely. No more flirting. To be honest, it’s been a bit of a blow to your self esteem.

A new employee of the family named Juliano has been coming into the cafe lately. He seems to be drunk on the power being part of a Mafia family gives him. He’s loud, disruptive, and often frightens the other customers. When Suguru has been in the cafe at the same time, he’s called Juliano down and made him apologize, but they don’t often visit together.

Two nights ago, you were cleaning up the cafe alone before closing up for the night when you heard a commotion outside. Thinking it was the two alley cats fighting again, you stepped outside to shoo them away before they hurt each other. But when you stepped around the corner of the cafe and peered into the alley, you saw two men.

One was Juliano. The other was a member of the Falzone family that you recognized as Antonio. You didn’t know him well but he never caused problems as far as you knew. They were shoving each other and arguing. Antonio yelled out a few words, most of which you couldn’t hear clearly. Except one: “Traitor!”

Juliano lunged toward him, something silver glinting in his hand. It only took a moment for you to realize Juliano was stabbing Antonio with a knife. As Antonio crumpled to the pavement, you tried to sneak away, to make it back inside before Juliano spotted you. But you didn’t make it. He was on you in an instant, shoving you against the outside wall of the cafe and holding his knife to your throat.

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you’re fucking dead! Do you understand me?”

You nodded, too terrified to speak, your eyes becoming wet.

Juliano’s breath was hot on your face as he said, “Not just you. I’ll kill everyone you love. Your whole family. So you better keep your mouth shut, no matter what!”

You nodded vigorously again. “I-I won’t tell anyone!”

He left then, and you slunk back into the cafe feeling exhausted and frightened. Antonio’s body was found the next day, and the Falzone family immediately began investigating to find out who killed one of their own. They questioned you at length, but you lied and said you’d closed up early that night and went home. That was yesterday.

Today, a couple of Falzone members came in and told you they’d asked around. Turns out you didn’t close up early. Someone walked by later in the evening and saw you wiping down tables. So why did you lie? What did you have to hide? Were you in cahoots with the killer? You panicked and probably only seemed more suspicious by trying to add more lies. So they took you back to their base, dragged you into this pitch dark room, and handcuffed you in this chair. Someone turned on a light that hung over your head like a spotlight and said their interrogator would be in to talk to you soon.

You’ve lived in a Mafia town long enough to know “interrogator” is a nice term for “torturer”. You have no idea what’s going to happen to you, but probably nothing good. Should you just tell the truth? They probably wouldn’t believe you at this point, and Juliano would definitely try to make good on his threat. No, you can’t risk your family’s safety.

The door creaks open and you look up to see which member of the family will be spending the evening ripping out your fingernails. Most of these men are regulars at the cafe. You chat with them, know exactly how they all like their coffee, laugh at their jokes. You feel a sense of fondness for them, so whoever it is, this is going to hurt in more ways than just physically.

Your jaw nearly drops when Suguru walks into the room. He’s their torturer?! Him?! You feel sick to your stomach as he closes the door behind him and approaches. You’d rather it be anyone but him!

He steps closer to you and looks down at your face. He wears a complicated expression as he sighs and says, “Can you just tell me what happened two nights ago?”

“I-I didn’t see anything! There’s nothing to tell!”

“Then why did you lie about closing up early?” Suguru asks.

You hesitate, trying to think up another lie. “I don’t know… I guess I just panicked when I was being questioned.”

“You do see how that makes you seem suspicious, right? You talk to Falzone guys every day at the cafe. It just doesn’t make sense for you to panic unless you have something to hide.”

You look up at him, wanting desperately to tell him the truth, but too scared of what Juliana will do to retaliate. By this point the man probably has a plan in mind for covering things up even if you tell.

Suguru steps even closer and leans down, putting his hands on the arm rests of your chair. A strand of silky black hair falls over his face as he says, “There are lots of things I want to do to you, but hurting you is not one of them. Please just tell me the truth.”

You can feel tears stinging your eyes. You really are in an impossible situation. “I… can’t.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes, as if he just realized something. He lowers his voice to nearly a whisper and says, “Has someone threatened you? Tell me, and we can-“

The door suddenly opens, causing Suguru to straighten up and turn to face the newcomer. When he steps aside, your heart nearly stops when you see Juliano standing inside the door. He’s staring at you with dark eyes.

“What do you want, Juliano?” Suguru asks, seemingly slightly annoyed by the other man’s presence.

“Just came to observe,” Juliano says. “The boss okayed it. Antonio was a good friend of mine.”

You’re trying hard to control your expression, to not look at Juliano too much and make it obvious that you’re scared of him. But you can feel his eyes on you. He’s here to make sure you don’t talk.

Suguru narrows his eyes. “I don’t work with an observer. You’re hindering my interrogation.”

From his tone of voice, it seems clear that Suguru doesn’t like Juliano. Figures. Suguru is too classy to be friends with such a brute.

Juliano moves closer to you. “Oh come on. Just slap the little bitch around a few times and she’ll talk.” He raises his hand and swings it down toward your face. With the handcuffs on, you can’t even try to protect yourself, so you squeeze your eyes shut. But the impact never comes. You open your eyes again to see Suguru holding Juliano’s arm.

“I have my own way of doing things,” Suguru says, a warning tone to his voice. “And I’m not going to let you interfere. If the boss really wants you in here, he can come and tell me himself. Until then, get the fuck out.”

Juliano jerks his arm free and gives Suguru a dark, angry look. Then he gives you a meaningful glance before storming out of the room.

Suguru walks over and locks the door with a heavy bolt. “There. No more unwelcome distractions. Now where were we?”

When he steps back over to you, he leans over you again. “So? Is someone threatening you? Someone from a rival family? We can protect you.”

But could they protect you from one of their own? Could they protect your whole family? What if they just didn’t believe you? There were too many uncertainties. You lowered your head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything.”

Suguru stands up straight and runs a hand through his bangs. “Alright. Looks like I’m going to have to force you.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face in alarm.

He meets your gaze. “I have ways of making people talk. I like to tailor my methods to the individual.”

You try to shrink away from him but you have nowhere to go in the chair. “Please don’t hurt me!” you cry.

He looms over you, looking down with a sultry expression. His liquid amber eyes seem just a little darker. His lips curve into a subtle smile. “I’ve found that for many people, the most effective torture isn’t inflicting pain. It’s denying pleasure.”

Suguru squats down in front of the chair, his thighs spreading deliciously. One warm hand rests on your knee. “I know you want me,” he says in that entirely too smooth voice. “You practically said so last week. I can give you everything you want and more.” His hand slides up your leg, under your floral sundress, caressing you with soft, sensual motions. “Just tell me the truth, and I’ll give you pleasure like you’ve never even dreamed of before.”

You squirm in the chair, squeezing your thighs together. He really is inhumanly beautiful, like someone from a fairytale. He’s right that you want him. You’ve wanted him from the moment you laid eyes on him, on his lustrous black hair and muscular shape. You’ve dreamed about him taking you, bending you over one of the tables at the cafe and having his way with you.

But you have to resist!

You shake your head as you try to pull away from him. “I can’t!”

He slides his other hand under your dress, then uses both hands to pull your panties down, under your hips, and all the way down your legs. After tossing them aside, he gently pushes your legs apart. Your dress is bunched up between your legs, still preserving your modesty.

“You do want me, don’t you?” he asks, his eyes staring into yours.

“Y-yes…” you mumble, closing your eyes.

You feel his hands on your thighs again, creeping upward. Slowly, he pulls your dress up to your waist. The feeling of the soft fabric grazing over your bare pussy is so alluring, your breaths start to come quicker. Finally, you feel the cool air in the room between your legs, and you know you’re exposed.

“You’re beautiful,” you hear Suguru say. “The things I could do to your body… the things I could make you feel… if only you would tell me what you saw.”

You open your eyes and look at him. God, you want him! “I… I didn’t see anything!”

His hands continue stroking your thighs, getting oh so close to where you want them to be. He leans toward you, almost close enough to kiss you, and says in a low voice at your ear, “You’re not being truthful. Don’t you want me to make you cum over and over? Don’t you want my tongue on your cute little clit? My cock inside you?”

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly with your fast breathing, your skin feeling heated and flushed. “Yes… I want that!”

One of his hands moves up and slightly brushes over your slick pussy. “I want that too,” he says.

You have a sobering thought, and you can’t stop yourself from speaking it. “Now you’re not being truthful,” you tell him.

He looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

“After I told you I’m interested, you backed off. You were just teasing me this whole time.”

A hint of sadness passes over his lovely features. “In my line of work, starting a relationship with someone is dangerous, for them more than me. I can sleep around all I want, but the moment I want something more, there’s a chance that person could be targeted.”

Wait, does that mean he wants something more with you? But he’s afraid you’ll be attacked in order to hurt him? The thought makes you feel warm, but it also makes the current situation far worse. Now you want him more than ever.

You look him in the eyes. “I wish I could tell you! But I can’t!”

He gives a disappointed sigh. “What a shame. I was looking forward to taking you to heaven.”

The hand that had been ghosting over you between your legs suddenly stops moving, and you feel his soft fingers slipping between your folds to rub your clit. You nearly jump out of the chair. He smiles at you as your back arches. God, his touch is amazing! You almost spill every secret you have right then and there.

You moan as he strokes you expertly, already on the edge. But just as you feel like release is getting close, he stops, pulling his hand away. You let out a whine, jutting your hips out as if chasing his hand. He waits for your body to calm down, then returns his hand, his fingers tracing circles around your clit again. He watches as you start to come undone, trembling in the chair, and then stops again.

“Please… Suguru…” you breathe out, desperate for release.

“Just tell me the truth,” he replies. “If someone is threatening you, we can protect you.”

You shake your head, tears leaking out of your eyes. He touches you again, bringing you so close once more.

“My… my family…” you mutter.

“They threatened your family? We’ll protect them too. You have my word.”

“You won’t believe me!” you cry as he pulls his hand away again.

He leans his face in close to yours, looking you in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod.

“Then I trust you,” he says. “I’ll believe whatever you say.”

He moves his face down then, burying it between your shaking thighs, and begins devouring your pussy. As his tongue runs over your clit, you finally give in. You couldn’t possibly bear having this pleasure taken away from you.

“Juliano! Juliano stabbed Antonio!”

Suguru’s face tilts up slightly to look at your face, but his mouth continues pleasuring you until you finally reach sweet release, climaxing with a scream.

He pulls away and stands up, licking his lips. “Juliano, huh? I can’t say I’m surprised. He’s a sneaky little rat.”

Catching your breath, you look up at Suguru. “He said he’d kill me and my family if I told anyone. Please don’t let him!”

Suguru gives you a reassuring smile. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your family. You can count on it.”

You sigh in relief, feeling tears on your face.

“But before I confront him,” Suguru says, dropping down to his knees in front of you, “I believe I promised you a reward for telling the truth.”

You watch, enraptured, as he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants. He pulls out a cock that suits him perfectly: big, tall, and gorgeous. You can’t tear your eyes off it as he put his hands on your hips and slides you down a bit, so that you’re close to the edge of the seat, your hands still cuffed behind you. This position pulls slightly on your arms, but you can ignore some minor discomfort. Especially when he spreads you open and that magnificent cock pushes inside you.

Ahhh, he fills you up so perfectly! He begins thrusting into you, slowly at first, deeply and intimately. He gradually picks up speed, the friction of his skin against yours making you moan and buck your hips. He leans over you, his hair falling over his shoulders, and kisses your lips.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says. “I had to hold back every time I went to the cafe. I wanted to fuck you in your waitress uniform, right in front of everyone!”

You almost think you’d let him. He goes so deep, and he hits exactly the right spot within you. “S-Suguru!” you cry out, your pussy clenching him tightly as another orgasm slams into you.

He keeps thrusting as you quiver beneath him, his hand stroking your hair. You can feel him twitching and pulsing inside you before he lets out a groan, then he absolutely stuffs you with his cum.

You look up at him with dazed eyes. “Promise you’ll protect me?”

He’s breathing hard as he slowly pulls out of you. “With my life,” he replies.

You watch him button his pants and then pull your dress back down, covering you modestly. He’s just stepping around you to unlock the handcuffs when there’s a banging on the door. He freezes and motions for you to be quiet. On the way to the door, he bends down and grabs your discarded panties, shoving them into his pocket.

At the door, he says, “Who is it? I’m busy.”

You hear Juliano’s voice. “The boss couldn’t come down here, but he said I can observe. Look, I’m sorry I tried to tell you how to do your job, alright?”

You know what Juliano is doing. He wants to stay in the room as much as possible, to intimidate you and make sure you don’t talk. Little does he know he’s too late.

Surprisingly, Suguru unlocks the door and lets him in. Juliano steps into the room, scowls at you, and asks, “Any luck?”

Suguru gives him a dark look. “What do you think, Juliano?”

Juliano, perhaps noticing the clear hostility radiating off of Suguru, suddenly looks at you again. “Has she been telling lies about me?” When no one says anything, he looks at Suguru again. “Are you seriously gonna believe this cheap little cunt over me?!”

Suguru punches him, so fast and so hard that Juliano has no chance to dodge or even bring up an arm to protect his face. He flops backwards onto the floor, unmoving.

You stare at the man on the floor. “Is… is he dead?”

Suguru walks back over to you and finishes uncuffing you. “No, I just knocked him out. I’ll send someone to get your family and bring them here to stay for a while, just until we make sure Juliano doesn’t have any lackeys.”

You let Suguru help you to your feet, rubbing your sore wrists. “What’s going to happen to him?” you ask, nodding toward Juliano.

Suguru smiles. “I’ll be putting him in that chair, interrogating him next. Though my methods for dealing with him will be very different,” he says, gently turning you around to see the wall that was behind your chair. It’s lined with hundreds of sharp, dangerous looking tools and utensils.

“Oh,” you say, feeling a chill come over you.

“I didn’t want you to see it while you were in here. I didn’t want to scare you,” Suguru says.

You’re grateful for that. But you feel just a little bad for Juliano. He probably deserves whatever he gets though.

Suguru holds out his hand to you. “Come on, you can stay in my room until all this settles down.”

You take it, feeling like the safest person in the world.

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #jjk smut

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pursuitseternal · 4 months ago

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Smut Ask! 🥵🔥

14 with Ascended Astarion x f!Durge 🩸

🎨 by @comfortyart

“Where are your manners?”

Cross-posted as “Reprimand Me:” for “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x Reader (f!Durge)

Smut Ask Prompts | Masterlist

CW: Blood, murder, hot Bhaalspawn shit, mouth play, sucking licking oral fixation, Dom Astarion, table sex, a lesson in manners

They had come quickly, a small force cloaked in shadow. Zealous remnants of the cults you had fought so hard to break. Bhaalists and Banites, cloaked in their auras of murder and reeking of death, snuck into your home, into the Palace.

You were preparing for dinner… overseeing the final touches to the latest gala your hallowed halls would host. Thankfully your silver was polished to a shine, the vases so bright, you could see every movement behind you as they crept in from the sewers, from the bowels of the city.

The biggest mistake about ambushing a Bhaalspawn in the dining room is that there are knives… everywhere. You grin, eyeing yourself in the reflection of the large vase, cool fingers curling around a dinner knife as you feel the metal heat and come to life in your hands.

Child of Murder. Bride of the Ascendant. Who would dare come to kill you? Who would dare attempt to threaten you in the seat of your power?

These idiots.

But then again, you enjoy your massacres like you enjoy fucking your Vampire mate.

Feral.

Quick

And bloody.

It's a torrent of blood, a shower of weapons you unleash on the assassins. Their death cries reverberate off the rafters. Their wild attempts to stab you, to take you down miss so magnificently, you smile. But you drink their hostility, bathe in their ire. They all fall preciously at your feet, a meal fit for a king—for the Ascendant and his Consort. By the time you’re through, there is only silence and the faint dripping of your enemies’s gore from the cream walls and gilded chandeliers. The floor is so covered with crimson, your dainty slippers squelch through it as you pull the dinner knives from their lifeless bodies and lick them clean.

The silver is cool on your tongue, the blood so deliciously warm yet. A hungry hum in your throat and you pick up another knife from a corpse and begin to clean that one in the same manner.

A smile turns your face as that warm, deep chuckle that sends shivers to your belly sounds from the door. Astarion leans against the doorpost, arms folded, eyes glinting with hunger. “Well… I was going to say you clean up nicely for dinner, my darling….” He tuts his tongue, chiding you, wagging a long and elegant finger even. “Naughty, naughty, my sweet. Someone needs a reprimand. You’ve made quite the filthy little mess, haven’t you?”

His darkened eyes scan the corpse pile, “And you didn’t even save any of the fun for me, pet. Where are your manners?” Gods, his tone is petulant and pouting, as if the massacre at his feet displeases him. You chuckle, for that growing bulge between his legs tells a decidedly different story.

Fingers lock like a vice around your wrist, pulling your knife-bearing hand to his eager pink tongue. One long, sinuous swipe licks the bloodied blade clean. “Mmm, delicious,” he purrs as he presses on the small of your back, drawing you close until your hips jut together. “When you’re all sullied and destroyed from your rampage, my darling, you know what that does to me…. You know I adore you, terribly.”

You give a low, blood-slicked laugh in your own sated throat. His hungry tongue laps down the hilt of the knife, brushing its warm, wet width over your fingers. He takes the knife from your hand and tosses it, its silver clattering somewhere in the distance. One by one, your filthy fingers are sucked in the warm wet of his mouth. That sinful tongue wriggles as he licks your hand clean, until he presses a smudging kiss on your knuckles, bending low before you in a mocking and elegant bow.

“I'll have to forgive you for being terribly rude, killing them all before I returned, at least you saved us plenty to eat.” Dexterous as ever, he makes quick work of your bodice, freeing your blood-spattered breasts. Warmer than the stick of your enemies on your skin, he turns his skilled tongue to lave your bosom, tracing the remnant spatters of your fight. “Ugh, I have to say, Bhaalist blood is one of my least favorite… acidic and muddy, polluted from bleeding so many others.”

You begin to throw him a pout, your hand gripping in his soft, silver curls as your yank him up, his tongue still hanging, lolling like a dog mid-lick.

“You seem to like my Bhaalist blood well enough… my lord…”

“That is completely different, my sweet,” he flashes you that rakish smirk that instantly floods your belly with searing need. “Yours is a vintage unlike any other… my first, my blood of choice,” he cranes against the hold you have on him to nip the skin of your throat, his breath washing down the hollow of it. “You see, I have manners, my dear. Since you’ve deprived me of the spurting blood of our enemies fresh from the kill, may I sup on all you have to offer?”

His voice is velvet command, a saccharine order that you are more than happy to obey. That murder-denched hand of yours, coated in the crimson spray drags its sticky fingers down the soft column of your neck. “You didn’t even say please…” you tut your tongue, coloring your lips crimson with a brush of fingers over your frown. “What a liar about manners…”

A growl, a bit playful with an edge of irritation, he narrows those ardent eyes at you. His breath down your throat, his lips crushing yours in a consuming kiss, and you are melting in his arms. Deep and husky, his voice rasps in your ear, that single sweet move tickles you: “Please.”

“Of course, my love,” you consent, angling your head for him to feast.

As he bites into your flesh and sucks your essence, you can’t help but ride the wave of bloodlust and victory that burns in your veins. You suck your fingers; messy, lewd pops between your lips make your love chuckle as he feeds. He can hear your tongue lapping on your own flesh, he can sense the satisfaction of the hunt as you consume from the remnants of your enemies.

Nothing could be more arousing than blood on your tongue, feasting on your spoils of battle as his lips suckle your neck. Well, perhaps one thing could enhance the taste of victory.

You draw yourself closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you, crushing you against the hard planes of his body. His breeches are softest buckskin, supple and tight, and your hand wanders up his thigh. Every line and cord of muscle presses into your palm, your touch tracking higher and higher… until you feel his cock jerk into your fingers. Astarion growls approval between his deafening swallows of your blood, and you can think of no better paradise.

It makes you burn… burn for more blood and lust. Urges overwhelm you, drives now incited by being so close to him… to smell his fragrance with every breath and savor the heat of his body through your dress. Your blinding urge is now very different than before; it is a debilitating craving for your Sire, lust for his chiseled, undulating, undead body. Your drive to dream in red with him, to pave your path in the blood of your foes and lick yourselves clean in the aftermath.

And so you both shall…

The bloom of his arousal bursts into your consciousness, your bond quivering with the taste of your own blood on his tongue. You see it as you feel it, the nails of his hands scraping their points up your thighs, the blood-sticky silk of your skirts rucking around your waist… “Precious little Bhaalspawn, hungry for blood,” his voice croons in your ear and floods your mind all at once. Your vision is clouded in red, the crimson of his eyes and the spatters of blood that cover your palace. “Or are you just… hungry?” He bends down to place a kiss on your neck, so gentle and adoring.

A gentle kiss before a rough fuck, you grin.

In a flash, he picks you up and slams your ass down on the dining table. China clatters and whatever elegant appointments had remained untouched from the invasion tumble down. Your body melts into his hard planes as he slots himself between your spreading, welcoming thighs. Hips grind, fingers yank you flush, dug deep into the curve of your ass. Gods, you can feel his cock, fully hard and throbbing with his heartbeat, nudging against your cunt. Swivel after tantalizing swivel, he humps you, dragging the sweet soft press of buckskin and his arousal back and forth over your mound.

“My my,” he croons, “you’re such a mess, all wet and dripping. Why, it’s positively everywhere.” Nails skate over flesh and fabric to where your sexes press together. He rends your small clothes, the silken gusset disintegrating with one forceful tear. And you in your impolite hunger return the favor. You find the latches of his breeches, pulling with all your might as the little brass buttons give way. Little metallic pings bounce on wood and porcelain as they land unseen.

His cock sings free, hard and flushed and demanding. Pre cum drips down your fingers as you stroke him, warm and sticky and almost as satisfying as blood. He bares his fangs in a blissed out smile, your touch eliciting a growl so deep and desirous, you’re sure the china sprawled on the table clatters again. With a roar from his throat, he sheathes himself to the hilt, mouth at your neck and hands clawed in your skin as he fucks you.

“Such improper manners, eating before everyone is served,” he chides you tauntingly as he slams into you again and again. “And look, you’ve got far worse than your elbows on the table,” a nice slap on your ass accompanies that jibe, hard enough to raise your soft flesh in the angry red shape of his hand. “Such unruly behavior for my consort… show me you know better,” he slows his pace, making you feel every inch of his length stretching you out, dragging inside you from leaking tip to deep rooted base. A hand grips at the back of your head, tangled in the blood-caked mess of your hair.

“Want me to fuck you? To seal your victory in blood? To reprimand you for such impolite behavior?” Crimson eyes roam your blushing face, glinting with hunger and alight with approval. Warm, smacking lips brush your ear. “Say please…”

It’s his turn to play the same games, and it makes your lips pout, your hips buck harder to try and coax him deeper. One of your hands splays back behind you, fisting into the table linens, bracing you as you try to grind desperately on anything you can get between your legs

“Ah, ah,” Astarion chides again, yanking back on your hair to make your gaze meet his. “Don’t be rude, pet. I won’t ask you again. Remember your manners…” his mouth travels to that sensitive spot near your ear, shivers and tingles racing down your spine as he rasps, “and say please…”

Moans tumble from your lips, the only sounds louder in the dining room are the clatters of china and silver on the table that shakes beneath you and the slap of his hips against your thighs as he fucks. It takes but a moment for him to drive you right to the edge, to the precipice of pleasure before he thrusts and stills inside you. “I haven’t heard the magic word yet, my darling,” he pants, his voice thick and sticky with blood and hunger.

Your walls flutter on his achingly hard cock, every muscle of your belly clenches with desperate need. Clenching your fangs, you curl your lips in a snarling smile. “Pleassssse.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, the praise instantly washes over you, balm to your bloodlust as he snaps his hips with abandon. The ferocity overwhelms you, your back now splayed on the table, porcelain and silver poke into your spine as he grabs your waist to keep you on the edge. Heat bursts, sticky sweet from inside your belly, a wash of arousal and pleasure as you scream for him.

Hard… deliberate… gasping… he fills you, warmth flooding our insides, painting them white as he pulses against your vice-gripping walls. His silver locks fall into his face with how zealously he’s worked to satisfy his hunger. A shaken breath from his smirking lips is your sweet reward.

And you are his reward, his prize for his exertions, his efforts to teach you your lesson in manners.

His ruinously handsome face twists into that smirk, the one that makes your walls flutter around his cock one more time as he still sits deep inside you. “And now, a polite Consort would say….” he taunts you, voice lilting and playful, a flourish of his wrist as he speaks to coax the words from your throat.

“Th-thank you…”

He gives you that grin—confident, powerful, and oh so full of shit—as he cups your blood-splattered cheek. “You’re quite welcome, my dear.”

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patriwoso · 1 year ago

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happy tears

alexia putellas x child!reader

"Smile Y/N! A picture for Mami before she gets to the stadium!" Olga grins at you as you pull a cheesy grin, you little front teeth on show.

"Chippy." You point to Olga's lunch and hope she's going to give you one of her fries.

She chuckles and puts a few fries in the side of your mac and cheese bowl.

Abuela Eli, sat beside you, reminds you to close your mouth whilst you eat. You nod and follow her instructions.

Having just turned two you were being introduced to a knife and fork, you pick up your plastic fork and use both of your little hands to hold it to stab into a piece of macaroni.

"Good girl!" Eli praises you as you begin giggling and go shy and chew on your food.

You take your time to eat your food, making Olga and Eli wait around for an extra long time.

"See Mami now!" You put your fork on the table and try to get down.

Olga is quick to stop you, a baby wipe at the ready for your sticky hands and mouth.

You make a stop at the car so she can change you into your Spain kit, Alexia 11 on your back like usual.

"See Mami! See Mami!" You skipped toward the stadium, holding on Olga's hand.

"When Mami play?" You shrugged your shoulders and sulked a little as you were still waiting for Mama to be subbed onto the pitch.

Eli keeps you distracted with your soft toy and a packet of sweets which ends up making you hyper and squirmy.

They allow you to get down and jump and clap to the chants and songs the fans sing. You go down a couple of steps to sit on the concrete floor at the bottom of the stand where the fence is.

Peering through the gap you look to see if you can spy out Mami anywhere but you can't see her.

Eli calls you back up to sit closer by them so they can keep an eye on you.

You plop yourself into Olga's lap and she explains what is happening in the game for you.

"Want Mami" You play with your bunny, beginning to get bored.

"She'll come on soon, mi querida "Eli smiles.

Eventually, Mami does get subbed onto the pitch. You jump up and down and clap your hands, waving them about in the air and giggling as everyone watches you. "MAMI MAMI!" You shout as she runs onto the pitch.

You begin to get more engaged in the game now, asking Olga questions in your toddler babble.

When Salma scores you clap again and giggle even more, looking around as everyone goes crazy. You don't quite understand why they're going as crazy as they are but you look up at Olga and flash her another big cheesy grin.

At full time you ask Olga and Eli to see Mami, they go down to the front and you look through the railings, waving at Ona and Aitana as they walk past to find their families.

You get a little confused when you see mamas teammates crying. You thought this was a happy moment?

"MAMI!" You shout when you see her walk around from the bench with Jenni and Mariona. "MAMMII" You shout even louder so she can hear you after the noise of the crowd.

When she spots you waving your hands and smiling brightly she leaves her team and rushes over. You see tears in her eyes too and want to be in her arms to give her a cuddle.

"Down Mami!" You tell her, trying to reach through the metal rails by sticking your arm through whilst crouching on the floor.

"I can't reach you, bebita." She sighs.

"Down!" You point to Alexia and stamp your feet, getting frustrated and upset as you just want to be with Mami and it doesn't seem to be happening.

Your not sure who, but someone lifts you up and lowers you over the railing so Mami can hold you to take you on the field.

"Mami no cry!" You gasp, putting your hands on her cheeks and pouting your bottom lip which begins to quiver.

"These are happy tears, mi princesa. We are in the semi final! Do you know what that means?" She sniffles, smiling as she kisses your cheek gently.

You shake your head and look at her, intrigued.

"It means we nearly win a trophy!" She grins.

You gasp a little and smile. "Trophy!"

Mami nods. "Maybe, if we keep playing really well." A few more tears drip from her eyes.

"Happy tears" You repeat what she says, using your little fingers to carefully wipe the tears from Mami's face, trying to be gentle.

"I like w- watch, I. Um." You waffle, trying to get the toddler babble out again. "Watching you play ball"

"You like watching Mami play ball?" She chuckles softly, kissing you softly. "Such a sweet girl." She rubs your back gently and cuddles you. "I love you, bebita. So much." She breathes as your head is buried into her neck.

"Mami? Um, Olg- Olgi show you my roni?" You ask, lifting your head up and running your finger down Mami's cheek.

"Sí, she sent me the photo of you eating macaroni." Mama giggled softly, happy to know that's all you care about.

You grin brightly and fall limp into her arms as she sways you side to side, whispering sweet words in your ear so you can hear her over the noise of the crowd.

She calls up to Eli and Olga that she is going to take you through to the change rooms and that she'll meet them upstairs.

You become a little meerkat, well that's always what Mapi used to say.

Moving your head side to side and peering over Mami's shoulder to look at everything and everyone.

You refuse to walk, a little bit shy in such a big place, so you stay safe in Mami's arms.

She holds your head against her as you go through the mixed zone, avoiding your face getting in pictures and videos unnecessarily as that isn’t something you should have to be doing at 2 years old. You didn’t need you face plastered all over the media.

“Mama you pretty” You look at her once your through the busy section of the stadium, looking at the way her smile brightens up and her eyes are all glossy with tears but in such a beautiful way.

“Thank you, my baby.” She smiles, rubbing your face softly and giving you more kisses.

“Look Y/N!” You follow where Mami is pointing and see Mateo running down the hall beside Irene.

You try to wriggle free, so Mama puts you on the floor and lets you run off to him as the hall is pretty empty.

“Hola Mateo!” You giggle, doing a little wave to the small boy.

You play together in the hall whilst Mama and Irene talk, cry together and laugh.

When you turn around to see Mami crying again you are quick to run back over and make sure she’s okay.

“Happy tears mami?” You ask, putting your hands up in a little shrug.

“Sí, happy tears.” She promises.

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benzobucky · 5 months ago

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The first time Poison saw Jet without an eyepatch was on an ordinary day. They were ghosting some dracs in zone 3, and one of them got too close to Jet, managed to jump on him, and wanted to stab him. But somehow, his knife slipped, and it only took off the eyepatch.

That drac saw he's end the same moment, though. The ray of electricity right through his head and into the sky.

Poison quickly noticed that Jet was no longer wearing an eyepatch. It intrigued him.

The thing is, no one ever saw Jet Star without an eyepatch. And every time someone asks him what happened, he tells a different story.

"It was a Scarecrow and I was high as fuck"

"My ex-girlfriend, who thought that I cheated on her, tried to pluck my eyes out with a spoon"

"My uncle called me a faggot and burned my face with acid, because I wore a makeup once"

"I chose fork"¹

[¹ - in eastern Europe, there's a phrase that says something like "would you rather choose to have a fork in your eye or a dick in your ass"]

Anyway, no-one really knew how Jet lost his eye and how it looks now. Ghoul even tried to sneak once in Jets room, but turned out he uses a fucking sleep mask and trying to took it off would mean death. Metaphorical maybe, but still.

So no-one knew. No-one.

So when the fight was over and dust finally settled, Poison finally managed to lay his eyes on something he always wanted to see.

And it was... Disgusting. Terrifying. Poison knew he shouldn't have feel or think such things but it was true horror. Reddish-brown, wrinkled skin surrounded, cloudy eye that seemed to be like almost closed. But it was not.

Jet looked at him. With both eyes for the first time. It gave Poison chills.

Well, to be completely honest, Jet was always kinda terrifying. Born in the heat of desert, he was truly a child of the golden sands. Not the zones, but the desert itself. He was built, his body was covered in scars, his past remained unknown, and sometimes, he was cruel. Like desert.

And the scar on his face... just another pattern on his body, just another story that is going to be finally told on a cold night. Somewhere deep in the darkness of his room, maybe even tonight, Poison hoped. The scar was like the sun itself imprinted in Jet's face. Like... like a star.

Poison thought about it for a second and for this exact second he managed to find it beautiful. But only for a second.

Beauty is fleeting. The scars always will be an ugly reminder what we lost and that we'll never be the same people again. Later Poison finally discovered the story of this scar and many many other scars on Jets body.

Not everything can leave Poison speechless, but that day, the only thing he managed to give Jet was a hug.

Poison never saw Jet without an eyepatch ever again. Every time he tried to take it off, Jet slowly stopped him. Maybe in the depth of his soul, Jet knew that it was disgusting. Maybe he felt vulnerable without it. Maybe he just doesn't want Poison to be horrified with him. But Poison wouldn't be. He will never be horrified with Jet ever again.

What a pity that they never spoke about it out loud ever again either.

Poison, about how he cares and how he accepts. Jet, about how he is scared of abandonment.

It is for the better, though. They already let themselves have too much intimacy. Too much for this cruel world. Too much for their cruel lives.

#my chemical romance #mcr #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #gerard way #party poison #ray toro #jet star #starparty #jetpoison

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scoobydoodean · 1 year ago

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#okay wait do y'all think that she wasn't going to try and murder Dean?#Do you think he was going to get through to her?#convince her somehow to not try to stab him?#that she was telling the truth at all in that scene?#because she was totally going to try and kill Dean#like 100% that was going to happen#and if Sam hadn't shot her then Dean would have had to kill her and that would have been so much harder on Dean#like it was disturbing that Dean had a 3 day old monster child that wanted to kill him but who was then killed by her uncle Sam instead#and even more disturbing that they then never mention her again#but these are also the guys who left their half brother in Lucifer's cage and didn't lose any sleep over it so...#and I love Dean but killing Amy was an asshole move#and there's kinda a difference between killing an active imminent threat and killing someone in cold blood after the fact @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

I didn't want to clutter someone else's post but this was partially directed at me? I've talked about the whole "Emma vs Amy" debate quite a few times, but I'll share a few thoughts.

Amy is a present, unrepentant, fully cognizant, adult, serial murderer. She is not actually sorry about what she did in any way. She believes that slaughtering humans like cattle to feed them to her son was the morally correct action even if it wasn't the ethical action because it kept her son alive. She is not correct.

Emma is a brainwashed child who's been psychologically conditioned for a few days. She has never killed anyone and only wants to kill Dean because some women who abused her told her to.

Hunters like Sam and Dean primarily deal in punitive justice, not preventative justice—and what I mean by that is that Sam and Dean try not to kill people (with powers or without powers) who have never killed anyone.

While I think you're right to point out that a preventative justice component is in play, that is not primarily how Dean makes the decision to go after Amy, and the reason we know that is because Amy's son swears to kill Dean and Dean does nothing about it because the boy has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Dean's application of his personal code is consistent here. He kills Amy, who is a murderer who killed four people, but he does not intend to kill Emma or Amy's son—both of whom wanted to kill him—because neither has actually killed anyone and both may choose not to.

You say that Emma was going to kill Dean 100%, but you don't actually know that because we never got to see that future. You assume Amy would never have killed again, but when you add up "murderer who regrets absolutely nothing" and "child vulnerable to catching illnesses" you get "Mom who absolutely would kill again as necessary and who would feel zero remorse doing so just like the last time".

I don't personally think SPN gives us any reason to suspect that three days of psychological conditioning from a cult is too much to overcome. We have seen other characters overcome much more serious levels of psychological conditioning intended to make them killers. For example, Cas and Alex. I'm not saying Emma wasn't trying to pull the wool over Sam and Dean's eyes in the scene where Sam shot her, but I am saying that doesn't actually mean in any way that she couldn't be convinced to actually choose a different path.

Under the same litmus test with which you suggest Emma's condemnation, we'd also condemn season 2 Sam for his potential "future" crimes. We are killing monsters before they actually become those monsters... because of the dark path someone else intends for them to go down. Amy—again—is an active present unrepentant serial killer.

I think sometimes people misremember the scene where Sam kills Emma—recalling the scene as a scene where Emma lunges at Dean with the knife and Sam steps in just in time to save his life, or where Dean is unarmed and Emma has him at knife point. But that is not what happened. Emma quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. Dean had a gun pointed at her, and if she was thinking straight at all, she would have left to avoid being killed if given the chance—especially when Sam arrived. And had she not, Sam could have shot her at that point—but Sam didn't wait to see what she'd do. He wanted her dead, because even if she ran, he didn't think they were equipped to deal with surprise attacks from Dean's Amazon child. That is the decision Sam made after a brief moment to consider, and it makes sense to me given the headspace he was in at the time and his assessment of Dean's headspace as well, but it does not make his decision consistent with his previous or future behavior regarding people who have been psychologically conditioned to kill.

My own frustrations are more with fandom, for a thought process that really really does not make sense to me, where Emma deserves to die but Amy deserved to live. I do not agree with that premise. I do not understand why so much of fandom has the perspective that a child who hadn't shed a drop of blood and who was acting in response to a cult's torture, who brought a knife to a gun fight and had already been driven into a corner where she had no choice but to surrender or run—doesn't deserve a chance to choose something else before she's barely lived and before she's heard a loving word in her entire life, but an adult with full cognizance of their actions who went through with killing four people and doesn't regret it should go on with their life and is "just a good mom doing what she had to" and killing that person is the bad thing. I don't understand that. I don't think Dean killing Amy was wrong at all in the "hunters kill supernatural murderers" show. The only thing Dean did wrong was lie about it and not take enough care to keep her son from seeing it happen.

#sams moral compass #deans moral compass #7.03 #7.13 #edit: I'll also be honest while I get where you get the “Sam wanted to spare Dean having to do that” interpretation #(especially with the earlier context of their fight in The Mentalist) I actually think... Sam makes it pretty clear after in the car #that he is furious Dean didn't stow his shit and shoot Emma before Sam even got there. 😬#season 7 #emma #amy

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yoru-no-seiiki · 1 year ago

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YANDERE ! EREN JAEGER X READER HEADCANNONS

TW/CW: mdni, yandere themes, masturbation.

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

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

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

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

Like I said, he’s batshit insane.

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

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

EXHIBIT B:

He’d be a great yandere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EXHIBIT C:

Eren believes in freedom first and foremost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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iwantghostsbigdick · 10 months ago

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IM NEW TO TUMBLR AND I SUCK AT WRITING SO GIVE ME TIPS!!!!

you and ghost have to camp out in a very small tent after a mission and he gets all cuddly and soft cause he doesn't like the cold

you scoffed, and slowly shifted into the middle of the bed; wrapping the small amount of covers over yourself- (before theyre snatched away) as you heard the little pitter-patter of the rain hitting against the outside of the tent, how the fog outside crept indoors, making the tent feel icy. Ghosts low gravelly voice growled out from under the balaclava as he leaned up on his arms.

"The rain won’t let up soon. It’s suppose' to d' this for the entire week. The snow' will soon folla.” he said, his mood growing darker as he looked at you.

"I don’t want to sleep near you. Move furtha' over.” he huffed. (def placing up a strong barrier to seem tuff!!)

"Im against the wall of the tent, I'm getting wet." you hiss, glaring at him through his balaclava, obviously taking up more space than he should.

He huffs out a scoff, "Good.” he says in a thick accent in response to your glare. He was laying on his side, only his icy eyes visible.

"You bloody deserve it. If y' moved over more, maybe I’d consida letting y' under th' covers tonigh'.” he added. His tone was sharp and cold, unbothered by the cold weather. He acted like he didnt seem to be phased by it.

His words dug deep, like a knife stabbed into you, but not just deep- it was rooted, and twisting, plunging deeper and staying in that spot painfully.

It hurt to be spoke to like that from someone you respect.

He sat up as you scooted over to the side of the tent, his tone still cold, though the gravelly british accent was softer as he tried to get as close to you as he could without having to lay next to you.

"Don’t gi'me tha' look..” he mumbled, though his voice was a little hard to understand under the balaclava.

Ghost couldn't help but feel a little pity as he glared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His arms stretched out, a little shiver running through his body. With how close you were, you could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

For a moment, Simon thought of when he was a child, how his father treated him, how he was left to rot and freeze.

How he felt abandoned.

His arm extended, a little gesture for you to come closer to him as he saw you shiver.

He was still keeping his balaclava on, but you could tell from the way his expression softened that he was concerned for you.

"Com' ere. You can’t sleep in the cold.” he sighed, his tone still cold, though it was a kinder cold than you had heard from him yet.

Though, his words before stuck in your brain. *If you move over, maybe I’ll consider letting you be under the covers tonight.*

So, you watched as he sat there, not moving, eyes still sharp through the balaclava, but the cold tone gone, the heat radiating off of him made the tent warmer, though still cold.

There was silence between the two of you, Ghost laying there, patiently, waiting for you to comply with his silent gestures.

The balaclava gave him a dark look, like he was glaring through your soul, despite the warmth radiating from his body.

The tent wasn’t large, but with the two of you so close, the warmth was a nice contrast to the chill air. As you inched toward him, his arms moved around you. He wrapped them tight around you, and your body was finally out of the cold air. His body heat flooded over you as you could feel his warm fog against your skin. But Ghost didn't let you out of his grasp,

No, he pulled you closer as his arms wrapped around you. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. He squeezed you tight as he kept you close to him. The rain continued to pelt against the tent as Simon lay with you. He was quiet, he didn't say anything. But this wasn't an awkward type of quiet, this was a good quiet. He didn't need to groan, or scoff, or mumble curses..

He didn't need to. For the first time in a long time, he was content just to hold someone in his arms, to have someone in his presence. His grip was firm on you. His embrace was tight, yet he relaxed with you in his arms.

You could feel his shoulders drop, and his breathing become more shallow and he held you against his vest, like you were a part of him, you were his savior, his lifeline.

(I WROTE THIS IN 45 MINS)

#call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #study notes #x reader #smut #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley cod #cod mw x reader

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mysticstarlightduck · 29 days ago

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✦ Incorrect Quotes Tag! ✦

Let's go with the main cast from my urban fantasy WIP Crash Stardom! for this one (:

Rules: Use this generator to get incorrect quotes for your characters!

Randall: PEASANT. I REQUIRE SUSTENANCE. Tristan: You know there are other ways to say you want fast food. Randall: FOUL PLEBEIAN. YOU DARE SPEAK AGAINST ME— Tristan: *sigh* What do you want? Randall: Fish nuggets please.

Beck: You fuckers don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon. Fabian: Spear. Beck: BLOCKED.

Arden: What does a winner do when life gives them lemons? Noah: Um, make lemonade? Arden: No. They squeeze them right back into life’s eyes!

Dassian: That's ridiculous, Arden doesn't have a crush on me. Tristan: Yes they do. Fabian: Yes they do. Arden: Yes I do.

Randall: Tristan and I are no longer friends. Tristan: RANDALL THAT IS THE WORST WAY TO TELL PEOPLE THAT WE’RE DATING!

Noah: I have seen a lot of murders in my time, and all six of them were today.

Seth, standing amidst the destroyed kitchen: How? How were you able to summon me?! Fabian, flipping through a cookbook as fast as they can: I don’t know!! You were supposed to be chicken soup!

Tristan (to Sinclair): I don’t know how you have your foot in your mouth, your head up your ass, and your nose in my business. But here we are, you goddamn demon.

Arden: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined. 13 year old!Fabian: Heck. Arden: You're on thin fucking ice. Arden: Oh no--

Beck: *closes a cabinet* *a crash is heard behind the cabinet door* Aspen: What was that? Beck: The sound of someone else's problem.

The MCs: So I have made the decision to trust you. Seth: A horrible decision, really.

Kit: I came out here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.

Tristan: Somebody kill me nowwwww. Noah: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

Arden, talking to Dominic: With all due respect, which is none…

Tristan: Randall, I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor. Randall: Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

Fabian: I couldn't do this without you, Kit. Kit: Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course

Dassian: Did you know spiders can hold 8 guns at once? Juniper: How does it WALK?? Dassian: Dassian: Did you know spiders can hold 7 guns at once?

Chion & Noah: *Playing video games* Tristan: You guys woke up at 5:30 in the morning just to play games? Chion: *silence* Noah: *silence* Tristan, finally figuring it out: ...You two never went to sleep, did you? Noah & Chion, in shame: Yeah...

Fabian: I have a problem. Arden: Kill it. Fabian: Can you chill for like, two seconds?

Aspen: A SPIDEEER!!!!!! Tristan: KILL IT! SMASH IT! Derya: BURN IT! Randall: STAB IT! WITH A KNIFE! GET ME THE SHOTGUN! Dassian: Awww, it’s so cute! Look at it!

Beck: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Tristan: The afterlife, I guess.

Kit, teaching Juniper to drive: Okay, you're driving and then Dassian and Seth walk into the road. Quick, what do you hit? Juniper: Oh, definitely Seth. I could never hurt Dassian. Kit, massaging his temples: The brakes. You hit the brakes.

Noah: While I'm gone, you're in charge, Tristan. Tristan: Yes! Noah, whispering to Randall: You're secretly in charge, but I don't want him to feel bad. Randall: Obviously.

Tristan: Oh, fiddlesticks. Arden: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid,

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

#wip crash stardom!#incorrect quotes tag #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #my wips #character writing #writing #my characters #my writing #writerblr #incorrect quotes

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defire · 13 days ago

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Ghost of Seattle Chapter 33

Content: child soldier, gang violence, cult victims, killing, chokehold, captured whumpee

Buddy and Ghost burst through the trees just in front of the main group, weapons out.

Most everyone was fleeing into a building, which was equipped with shutters, but they weren't getting them shut in time.

"We come in peace." Buddy declared at the top of her voice, holding out her pistol in her right hand.

She didn't give a fuck about technique when she was trying to be intimidating. It worked.

Ghost followed, walking boldly in front with her. That was what Oldman had said to do.

A shot was fired from around the corner of the long, low building.

Buddy lifted her pistol, but didn't waste a bullet.

"If you come in peace,--" The voice started to threaten.

"You wanna die?" Buddy yelled. "Come out with your hands up."

They had like a minute before an actual gang war started; that was how fast the rest of the Cult would be to arrive.

A kid came out, white to the lips, hands over his head.

"Please. I don't even wanna be a soldier." He begged.

"Tell everyone under the age of 18 to go to Offshoot." Buddy said, jerking a thumb behind the Shivers.

Connor had sent some people to guide the kids out of Cult territory.

"Why just the kids?"

"Go." Buddy said. Or we execute all of you Tell 'em."

The boy cringed back and banged on the door, repeating Buddy's message.

"Oh yeah," Buddy added. "Bloody Connor sent us."

The boy turned with a mixture of awe and relief.

Ghost heard excited voices. Suddenly the doors opened and the kids poured out and fled past the Shivers.

There were only 2 adults among them. Only adults were allowed to paint the Cult's yellow crosses on their white clothes. Their elitism would kill them today.

The Shivers grabbed them, letting the kids go. They were tired, bruised, and scared. But most of all right now, excited.

The Shivers threw the two adults to their knees and knifed them.

Ghost bared his teeth against the grimace, making himself look at the teens instead. If only all he'd done today was help some kids.

The compound's purpose seemed to have been changed. The center of the building was piled with recovered steel and smaller piles of wood, plastic scraps and cord. A few tools lined the walls and floor.

There was a massive trapdoor, already propped open, with a staircase that led down to a carefully collected treasure: an arsenal of crossbows. There were even a few guns and a case of .22 rounds.

The Shivers rushed in with a consensus of mad excitement. They seized the weapons carelessly, grabbed ammunition; cleaned the place out in 15 seconds. They knew they'd split the loot afterward, and knew to keep an arm free, for, what was already happening outside.

More shots coming from 3 or 4 different directions.

Ghost melted into the cover of a haunted lean-to filled with garbage. The shade projected such a powerful sense of stillness that it felt like no one could possibly be there.

As soon as he saw where the main force was coming in from, he could guess where they'd hide shooters, based on the angle it would require to hit the Shivers without shooting their own.

With how randomly they were arriving, though, it was unlikely they had that sense. Other people panicked when fighting started. Ghost didn't anymore.

Ghost retreated behind the building, scouting for an alternative route out, since the way in was clogged with escaping Shivers and Cultist teens. He wanted to get into the area that the Shiver snipers were covering, if possible. The area he was going to run into was essentially an overgrown park. He heard someone coming in front of the building. Friend or enemy, he didn't want to be seen--even a friend would show tell-tale recognition.

He backed up, then glanced around a moment too late as an arm came smoothly around his neck, closing in neatly and pressing in on the arteries on either side. Ghost instinctively squeezed shut his eyes in a grimace, expecting to be stabbed or something. He lifted his rebar to swing it into a knee or shin, and a cold hand closed over his narrow wrist in an icy grip.

"The Ghost, huh?" A man's voice with a grim smile said from behind his head. Ghost kicked at the guy's shins. No reaction, except that the arm around his neck tightened, pressing Ghost's skull against the man's chest. Ghost grunted and winced. He could still breathe, but the pressure in his head was bad.

He tried to smash at the guy's crotch with his left hand, and the guy chuckled and shoved his leg behind Ghost's back so he was stretched backward over the man's thigh. He panicked, eyes rolling back to see a smirk over a scruffy beard.

"Nice to meet you too." The guy said. "I'm Crippler."

Tag list: @joyjoygorl @cepheusgalaxy

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Kindle book: Masterpost: Next:

#whump writing #whump #child soldier #gang whump #gang violence #cult #cult victims #killing #violence #kidnapped whumpee #captive whumpee #captivity whump #whump readers #stoic whumpee #living weapon #manipulation whump #war

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heavenlyhoundoom · 9 months ago

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Sun and Moon show incorrect quotes 2.

1.Lunar: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Lunar: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies. Sun: Socks are Feetie Heaties. Moon: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties. Bloodmoon: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies. Earth: Stamps are Lickie Stickies. Eclipse: I hate you guys so much.

2.Ruin: I love the term 'partners'. Are we dating? Are we robbing a bank? Are we the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies and are members of an elite squad known as the special victims unit? Who knows.

3.Eclipse: sighs I have no friends… Ruin: Ruin: coughs Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

4.Ruin: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Moon: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Ruin: Mean.

5.Lunar: What does “take out” mean? Moon: Food. Sun: Dating. Eclipse: Murder. Bloodmoon: It can be all three if you’re brave enough.

6.Bloodmoon: Lunar, my old friend! Lunar: I think you tried to kill me at some point. Bloodmoon: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

7.Bloodmoon: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Sun: Please never become a surgeon.

8.Eclipse: Can you come out? Ruin: Yeah gimme a minute… Ruin: Eclipse, I’m gay. Eclipse: I know that. Come out to the car. Ruin: Okay. Ruin: Car, I’m gay.

9.Eclipse: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Lunar: 'Prettiest Smile' Earth: 'Nicest Personality' Bloodmoon: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Ruin: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

10.Eclipse: writing a letter Eclipse: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty… And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

11.Bloodmoon: I have a plan. Sun: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it. Bloodmoon: … Sun: … Bloodmoon: I no longer have a plan.

12.Bloodmoon, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child. Moon, entering the room with a small cut on his ankle: Who the f-

13.Eclipse, slamming pots and pans together to the rhythm of "Give it to me, I'm worth it": I didn't get no sleep cause a' y'all! Y'all never gonna sleep cause a' me!

14.Sun: Where is everyone? Moon: Lunar had a nervous collapse, Earth is looking after him, Bloodmoon is trying to kill Eclipse, so I’m in charge. Sun: Oh my god! Moon: I know, right?

15.Eclipse: Something tells me Bloodmoon's going to be a bit more unhinged today… Bloodmoon, holding a lit match and a bag of cheetos: Leave me be, Ruin isn't home to stop me, I'm going feral.

16.Ruin: If you aren't someone the church wanted dead 300 years ago, are you really living?

17.Sun: Father, I have sinned. Ruin: Daddy, I’ve been naughty.

18.Moon: How late were you up last night? Bloodmoon & Ruin, in tandem: Me? Moon: No, not you two. You stay up late all the time. Moon, to Lunar: You.

19.Sun: What do you do when someone offers you drugs? Eclipse: Take them! Moon: Punch them in the neck! Ruin: Say thank you! Bloodmoon: Offer them more drugs to assert dominance! Sun: … Sun: No.

20.the Squad at Disneyland, in the teacups Sun, Earth, and Lunar: spinning a little and talking Bloodmoon, Eclipse, and Ruin: flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming

#Fnaf #sun and moon show #Sundrop #Moondrop #sams lunar #sams eclipse #sams earth #sams bloodmoon #sams ruin #incorrect quotes

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098-lxxon · 2 months ago

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One has to go

This fanfiction is a moment featured in this AU.

Content warning : Self-taught English / Long. Very long / Curses / Oc insert (briefly) / Jimmy's death / Blood everywhere / Daisuke killed him / fight scene?? / SA mentioned / Miscarriage mentioned / Cannibalism hinted

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

For the vibe, y'all :

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

" We gotta tie him. Now. "

" Swansea, wait! You'll hurt his wrist even more. "

Anya blocked Swansea from Jimmy's body. So he couldn't use the rope he tied on his wrist to the unconscious Daisuke.

This is bad, the second worst thing happened to her after being a captain of the ship.

Curly is dead on the bed he lied on. Jimmy just died. But that wasn't the second worst thing. It was the act of Daisuke which killed him.

Jimmy was stabbed in his chest to death, blood spilled everywhere, mostly on the culprit's face. Who was trying to get up but fall unconscious to the ground.

" His right wrist is swollen, turning purple, and most likely broken. And all of this . . . blood . . . "

" I need to treat him first then we'll talk about restraining. "

Anya looked at Daisuke. Surely that Jimmy didn't let himself get killed easy. Although his hands were tied together, he fought back.

Or maybe Daisuke killed him in self-defense. Who knows?

" Alright, you're the boss. "

Swansea shrugged. Okay, he'll let her decide. He couldn't care less about anything now. He picked Daisuke up and throw him over his shoulder. Then they moved to the Medical room.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Anya tend to Daisuke's external wounds and a broken wrist. She made a makeshift wrist brace out of tape, metal stick, and determination.

" Captain Anya? "

" . . . What do you want, Fallacia? "

Her voice sounded stern. She didn't even look at the AI on the screen.

" I . . . "

" I can show you the whole footage if . . . "

" . . . What is there left to know? "

You lied to me about the estimation of oxygen level, told Daisuke the true one because he begged you, then he got paranoid and killed Jimmy to decrease the number of people consuming it.

Or what? Did I assumed any wrong at all? Does my little human brain fail to understand the situation, Fallacia?

Anya clenched her hands on Daisuke's bed, frowning at the self-aware AI on the screen. Then she sighed, looking at the injured intern.

" . . . Show it. "

She kept them to herself, giving Fallacia the bliss of ignorance.

The AI dragged a tap of the camera footage in to the screen and clicked at Cargo footage. Of course, Pony Express wouldn't tell them about installing cctv.

" You won't be hearing their voices, but— "

" Make me hear it. "

Anya cut her off.

" You're an AI, the advance one. You could do it, couldn't you? "

" Yes, ma'am. "

Fallacia rewind to footage. The screen loaded as Fallacia read their lips from different angles and dubbed the voice, using ones from their interview.

" I'll play it now. "

Fallacia stopped at the scene right before Daisuke walked into Cargo. Anya saw some quick foreshadowing as the AI rewind it.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Jimmy was wandering near the door, waiting for someone to open it and end his boredom.

Anyone could open it by now. There's no such thing as 'captain only' on this ship anymore and Jimmy knows it. Although he has never seen anyone walk through that door lately except Swansea.

He basically lives here, being limited area like a child being grounded. He sighed, still walking back and forth.

- ! -

The door was open, revealing someone by the door. The one who punched the code so aggressively but Jimmy couldn't hear them walking towards the Cargo. Scare him straight.

" . . . What the hell? "

" . . . "

Jimmy's generated voice made Anya flinched. It sounded so realistic. So human and in character.

Jimmy's eyes squinted in confusion when he realized that it wasn't Swansea coming to get more of the mouthwash. It's Daisuke. With a knife in his hand.

His intention was clear.

" The fuck do you think you're doing with that knife? "

Daisuke didn't answer. His chest wasn't heaving either. He went straight to Jimmy, eyes locked, hand held the weapon tight. Jimmy stepped back, still didn't take Daisuke's action seriously.

" . . . 'd you miss your mom too much or something? "

- ! -

" What the— "

Daisuke grabbed a half full bottle of mouthwash and threw it right into Jimmy's face, causing him to close his eyes and dodge. Daisuke used this opportunity to march in and stab him, but failed.

" . . . I should've known you can be this murderous. "

Jimmy smacked the knife away from Daisuke's hand, grabbed his hair, and kneed him right into his face a few times until he kicked him away and stomped on his wrist, standing on it, putting all of his weight onto that thin bones of Daisuke's wrist.

Anya winced.

" Son of a bitch, You thought I'll let you get away with that? "

" I crashed the whole fucking ship, and you thought I'd let it slide? "

So you forgot about raping me, huh? Didn't even mention it, prick. At least I've lost what you forced into me now.

Jimmy's sadistic face that Anya almost forgot was caught on camera. Daisuke was struggling to get his wrist out of Jimmy's foot, trying to lift his leg up and stuff.

Jimmy stomped on it again, his time harder, Daisuke grinded his teeth not to make any sounds. Anya clenched her hands into tight fists. She wanted to intervene, but she knew it was just a video feed, too late to stop.

The co-pilot used his hands to grabbed the intern's collar and threw him to the wall. Then marched to grab the knife.

" bthynmearwsyinoxsgen . . . "

" What did you say? "

" Did you not hear me? Speak up. "

" B . . . Both you and me . . . "

" Are wasting oxygen . . . "

Daisuke slowly picked himself up with a thick red blood running down his nose. His generated voice was fumed with rage. Although his face was somewhat apathetic.

" . . . ! "

Anya almost forgot to act shocked at the fact that he knows about the urgency of the oxygen level.

" One has to go. "

" . . . "

Now, THAT's the real shocking thing coming from the same young man who can't fall asleep at night because he misses his mother and copes by trying to eat the foam as a substitution for sweetener.

But this. What she's witnessing, it's so out of his character. Too much. Far too much. She is aware of the fact that no psych evals has been taken lately. Maybe he has developed some mental illness.

Or what more did no one tell her?

" Oh? So we're fighting for oxygen now? "

Jimmy chuckled, purposely taking a big sigh.

" If you wanna live that much, then come get it. "

A knife in his tied hands, he held it above his head taunting the younger man who's still struggling to stand up straight. Then drop and kick it away, landing it in between boxes of mouthwash diagonally behind him.

" It's about damn fucking time. "

Daisuke looked like a bloody mess. But Anya knows how it end. The one who survived is laying here in front of her.

Head bargging to the fence, hand bitting, curses, suffocating, death threats. All can be found in this video footage. It would make a good action movie. If Daisuke didn't look like a very violent cat trying to eat Jimmy alive. The boy keeps biting and scratching him.

The fight went for another 3 whole minutes. From protecting themselves in their own reasons, now they look like they seriously want each other dead.

Jimmy occasionally said something along the lines of " Get up. Get the fuck up. " or " Is that all you got? Swansea failed his intern this bad? " Whenever Daisuke fell to the floor, struggling to even lift himself up.

It's like looking at two street dogs fighting for fish bones at a dumpster.

Then finally, somehow, Daisuke got a hold of the same half full bottle of mouthwash and splashed it on Jimmy's face, reached the knife and stabbed right to his chest.

Jimmy lost his balance, fell on top of one of the boxes of empty bottles of mouthwash, Daisuke got above him, and started stabbing rapidly, aggressively, non-stop for a minute.

As he mumbled, their blood mixed with one another, staining both parties' eyes.

" I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry . . . "

- ! -

" DAISUKE!!!! "

Whoa. I didn't know I was that loud. Was I that loud? Or is it just Fallacia misreading my expression?

" Oh, hell nah . . . "

" An . . . "

" No no no no NO, DON'T MOVE!!! "

- ! -

" We gotta tie him. Now. "

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" . . . "

Such irony, seeing the one who's scared to death about running out of oxygen hyperventilating.

As the recording came to an end, Anya was left speechless, struggling to process what she had just witnessed.

She can't believe that when everything was happening, she was convincing Swansea to help her stop him. He only listened to her when she said that Daisuke could be the one dead and not Jimmy.

He'd be hungry when he wakes up.

" Fallacia. "

" You think he would want Curly or Jimmy for dinner? "

Thank you for reading!

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing au #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing oc #daisuke mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing swansea #Spotify #fanfiction

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angelinaheartshapedbox · 8 months ago

Text

morbid attraction

Ethan Landry x reader

AU where Stu Macher has an illegitimate child. During Scream 6.

summary: Y/n is a freshman at Blackmore University. They're currently pursuing a bachelor's degree in forensic science to become an autopsy technician. To further their research, and to make money, they pick up shifts as a mortuary assistant. Y/n must come to terms with the trauma of gruesome murders of their hometown, copes with the memories of their ex girlfriend Amber Freeman, and with the fact that their father was a homicidal maniac. Running doesn't get them far from their past as it chases after them into New York City. But maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe, just maybe, the light is Ethan Landry.

!!WARNINGS!! graphic descriptions of gore and violence, PTSD, and dealing with trauma. Major content warnings will be placed before each chapter.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Voicemail (3)

The Franchise

Wordcount: 1.5k

Content warnings: none.

I sat at the cafe table across from Ethan. I was quietly eating my lunch. When I looked up Ethan was just staring at me. His eyebrows were knitted together and he pursed his lips tight.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“I should be asking you that,” he answered, “I’m worried about you.”

I laughed, shaking my head, “I really am fine, E.”

He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, and he shouldn’t. I was so not fine. I was horrified. The thought of someone in that stupid mask coming for me made my stomach churn. I felt ill thinking about feeling another knife pierced through my skin. I looked back at Ethan, feeling scared for him now too.

“You should leave.”

“What?”

I sighed, “I don’t want you to get hurt, or worse. I think you should leave. Stop being around us. Try to get the fuck out.” I told him, almost begging.

Ethan narrowed his brows and shook his head, “I’m not going anywhere. You guys are my friends, I’m not leaving you for dead.”

I let out a breathy laugh. I almost cried looking at him. I looked down at the floor.

“Please, don’t do this, Ethan. Don’t be the hero.”

Ethan reached across the table and put his hand over mine, “Don’t do this, Y/n. You don’t need to be tough all by yourself. Let me help you.”

I pulled my hand away from his.

“We should go. Mindy wants to meet up.”

Ethan just nodded and got up from his seat.

My phone rang. It vibrated on the table, face down. I made eye contact with Ethan. He flipped the phone over for me. It was my mother.

“Shit.” I thought. I still hadn’t told her. She’s probably flipping out.

“Hi, Mom,” I said into the phone.

“Y/n? Oh, my God. Are you okay?” my mother spoke frantically, “I just heard about what’s happening, why didn’t you call?”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I was busy talking to the police all night after the attack and then-”

“Attacked?!”

“I’m okay, Mom. I have it under control. They’re really close to catching him” I felt bad lying to my mom, but it was for her own good.

I heard her sigh, “Call me tonight. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t. I love you.”

I left the cafe, leaving Ethan behind. I meet Mindy in the courtyard where everyone is sitting together. Ethan runs up next to me and we walk over to our friends. Mindy spots us and points us out to the group.

“Perfect! Let’s get started, take a seat” Mindy orders us.

Ethan takes a seat next to Tara, but I stay standing behind the bench.

Mindy starts clapping to get our attention, “Okay, nerds, listen up! As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not catching the killers last time.” Everyone gives her weird looks and she sighs, “It’s fine. Okay,” she adjusts her top, “The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”

Anika raises her hand, “Um, what’s a requel?”

“You’re beautiful, sweetie. Let’s hold questions to the end” Mindy tells her.

Sam cuts in, “Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro. Stab 2 took place in college.”

“I would call it the original Stab. Not Stab 1” I say with a smile.

I’m ignored by the group.

“So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?” Chad asks.

“That is one possibility,” Mindy replies, “Heroes now in college: Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or bodycount:” she points at Quinn, Anika and Ethan, “Check, check, and check.”

Ethan scrunches his face, “I don’t like this.”

“But it can’t just be about Stab 2” Mindy declares, ignoring Ethan. I pat his shoulder.

“Why not?” Tara asks.

Mindy continues, “It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel because nobody just makes sequels anymore.” Nobody says anything and Mindy gets excited, “We’re in-”

“A franchise” I cut her off.

She stares at me deadpan, “Must you always be the star?”

I smirk, “Can’t help it with a face like this.” I wink and she rolls her eyes.

“There are certain rules to a continuing franchise!” she restarts her rant.

“I had a feeling,” Sam mutters.

Mindy states the rules.

“Rule one: Everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count.”

“Funsies” I intersect.

“Longer chase, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep the people coming back!”

“Beheadings?” Chad questioned, writing in his notebook.

“Beheadings” Mindy doubled down.

I chuckle and do a slicing motion over my neck with my thumb. Ethan and Chad give me a disturbed expression.

“Rule two: Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations.” She takes a pause, “If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities…”

Ethan’s eyes go wide and he looks at the floor.

“You can bet the opposite will be true here. And rule three:”

She scans our faces, holding out for suspense.

“No one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia.”

“So, Kirby and Gale?” I inquired.

“Not looking too good for them” Mindy answers. “Oh, and that’s not even the worst part!”

Chad looks at Ethan, “This is the part where she tells us the worst part.”

“The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost IP. Which means main characters,” her eyes travel from me to Tara to Sam, "are completely expandable now, too.”

Mindy lists a bunch of characters that died in their own franchises to continue the story.

“That means it’s not just the friend group. Any of us could go at any time, especially Sam, Y/n, and Tara.” The expression on her face is more hurt now.

Everyone is quiet for a minute. Me, Sam, and Tara look at each other.

“Wait, any of us?” Ethan asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah” Mindy nods.

He looks concerned, “Am- am I in the friend group?”

“Yeah” Mindy and I said together.

“Am I like one of the targets?”

I groan, “Oh, my God, Ethan!”

Ethan stares off into nothing and then asks, “Am I gonna die a virgin?”

I put my hands on his shoulders, “Oh, no, honey,” I whisper in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear, “The virgins don’t die.

“That was… a weird overshare” Mindy replies, “But it brings us to our current suspects: Ethan. The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

Ethan stammers, “Okay, wait why am I on the suspect list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate.”

“Yes,” I replied flatly.

“Roommate lotteries can be juked. You could’ve fixed it to get next to us!” Mindy clarifies.

Ethan rolls his eyes with attitude. I laugh and ruffle his hair.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” I ask him, deepen my voice.

He waves me away from his face, “Not funny.”

Mindy moves on, Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie,” she kisses her fingers, “classic.”

“Sex positive but… thank you?” Quinn says, confused.

“Mm-hmm. And how did you come to live with Tara and our deadly duo?” Mindy interrogates her.

“Do not call us a deadly duo, that sounds like we’re dangerous” Sam tells her. She looks at me for back up. I shrug in response.

“Uh, I answered their ad online” Quinn answers.

Mindy puts her hand up, “Okay, say no more. You’ve already implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy” Tara states, “And you know we vetted her. Plus her dad is a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer, because having a cop dad is a great cover. Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?!”

Quinn looks at us concerned, “Is she always like this?”

“And finally, Anika.” Anika blows a kiss and Mindy blows one back, “Never trust the love interest.”

Sam starts to stand up, “Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects.”

“But wait,” Ethan interrupts her, “What about you guys?”

“I mean, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro” Mindy states.

Chad points his pencil at her, “Agreed.”

“Totally” I add.

Quinn speaks now, “Um, not agreed. What if all the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?”

“Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more,” Ethan says.

I look at him, disappointed in his words. I take my hand off of his shoulder and cross my arms.

He continues, “I mean, let’s be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are-”

“Don’t you fucking dare” Tara warns.

“What the fuck, dude?” I exclaim. I get pissed and walk away. I can hear my name being called, but I just keep walking.

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masterlist

#scream #scream vi #scream 6 #ghostface #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fanfiction

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sasashihearst · 1 year ago

Text

(1) waking up in a completely different world ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

Before this fanfic story started , this story completely base on my own personal desire; self indulgence and bad grammar and wording;comedy comment and adding traditional that Genshin couldn’t put so i put my own pleasure to .And is based on my own oc so everything might’ve been occed but i will entirely focus on the lore and twist it , that all for you to know and most of my oc love list is mostly woman because i want to pamper and love them adding alot of fluffy things for them

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Coming from a class as well with an exhausting katana classes for an upcoming semester and competition that can bonus’s to my degree . In Japanese these schedules is hectic as hell to the point makes me wants to sleep from a bad headache that suddenly appeared on the right side of the back of my head as i try to sleep comfortably on the bed without shifting to not feeling like i have a cemented my head to something and having a distraction from someone snoring so loud making me could wish i have my own room. A few hours passed and listening to countless asmr that makes me feel secondhand embarrassment yet it sooth my heart that it was me WHO listen to it as I drift to the blissful silence

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Waking feeling something soft yet sharp poking at my nape making me wince but it’s more like me being dramatic to someone or something that making me wake up as i slowly flutters my eyelid slowly as i get use to my surroundings making me jump as i realise I don’t remember me sleeping outside nor in this new environment making me look around in a anxious manner. The most luscious emerald grass that is softly damp and press under me as i was staring at the most greenest leaf that was softly moving in a slow mo motion that was brutally attacked by the gently wind as i lay on the floor as flower surrounded me like a flower bed as i was too reminded that i was wearing a completely different attire than my own clothes. ‘At least I don’t look like I’m homeless in my own room anymore’ is what I thought but thinking again do i even have my own room? Even better . A house to live? But shook my head gently as i too have to wake up and sit up just like the wind that was softly encouraging me to wake up and see the beautiful scenery making me feel like I’m appreciated and loved in this place by no one particularly ‘how weird? I never felt more comfortable and warm in nature if anything I should be happy there’s no bug on me’ as i shiver at the thought a slimy bug on me.

Standing up too quickly isn’t a preferred approach as I quickly felt lightheaded and headache making me wobbly forced me to lean back on the trunk of the tree you see is because of Orthostatic hypotension — also called postural hypotension that’s caused by standing up too fast ‘why the hell am I thinking this??’ As i shook my head like I disturbed myself with this dumb information. Wanting to see myself and checking myself out in this new image , well I could tell the looks of it but wanting to see the full image make me have the energy to walk but with a grumble from my empty stomach make me rethink my decision a little bit on seeing myself. After walking a few hours every minutes feel like a knife been stabbing me every countless of me walking into nowhere as i saw a tree with a generous amount of fruit as i happy jogs there as my eyes have the delight expression ‘finally goodies’ I thought to myself as i try to quickly reach to grab it but every grunt and huffed i give I couldn’t reach with these heights making me groan in annoyance as i just look at it stupidly as i sat down on the bottoms of the tree trunk as i look at the few lakes away but with no energy forced me to stay put making me close my eyes suddenly feeling a cold air soothing my hot temperatured body. But as soon i open my eyes i can quite literally see a fruit dangling from the tree as if it was leaning to a child in a motherly way teasing them feeling confuse and overwhelmed thinking the tree would fall on me as i took the fruit as i suddenly have a nostalgic sense of memory as i look at it curiously

“Why does this fruit oddly familiar?” A pear like shape but the bottom being more wrinkly with pink shade with yellowish making my eyes wide as i now understand the familiar fruit ‘is a sunsettia!—‘ with this new information is now making more aware about where i am or particularly what universe i am in. Now I’m finally grasping this information it was like in cue everything seem like something happened like the bird and animal was chirping and howling as if a celebration was held in place, the scenery shining even more like they been bathing in the sun for years only to be shining even more with something else is like their are happy you can understand what is happening to you. Well chewing on the sunsettia which you understand it belong to a certain game but-but .but. Has the khaenri’ah incident occurred yes or no? Because it may be me being anxious and being a little tiny bit more like a psychopath if I didn’t say quote on quote where the blood curling monster roaming around or maybe like dead people?— okay don’t get me wrong i like this version none trauma and ptsd and cheerful scenery but then again is weird because it is hoyoverse style to make everything and everyone possible chance to have a trauma’s one way or another.

Feeling disturbed with this dumb thoughts i got up and left the tree alone going alone where the winds going. The lake. The beautiful scenery that make the lake look ethereal as the lake being surrounded by the lush landscape and some random wood bridge that’s somewhat like broken but nevertheless it added everything that this lake never needed. ‘What a beautiful sight’ looking around thinking there’s people nearby taking a guess from the bridge but nothing but i went to the lake just the edge of it just to see a glimpse of my reflection. An entire new look

I may be from Japanese but even so I’m still a woman? And i look like i came out from taisho era , an era that war and weird fashion combination exist with weird designs and colour and adding a extra hat, yeah that era. Long sleeve white button shirt adding a layer of black blank line kimono and a colour beige hakama with ending the hakama like a bow tie appearance with another white ish beige haori. In Japanese these is suitable for a man but I’m a woman I’m afraid but i do like the hakama and right i wore a wooden geta is no wonder it added my heights but then as i look at the lake again i saw a small accessory adorned on my head as i saw a small star clipped on my hair thinking nothing of it as I still have my glass with me. And wait isn’t this entire fiasco my dream? Trying to make one of those dramatic cutscenes where the mc randomly getting an item out of nowhere; my big wide sleeves? No, i close my eyes and start to imagine something on my hand thinking i what i think would appear when i open my eyes is there? Nope, what about raiden style? Again nothing, maybe trying a new way by going through my kimono layers in those x position and going through it as I thought maybe my hand crafted umbrella that has a beautiful design and…. It work surprisingly fine let’s be honest is like raiden style of way getting her sword 1001 ways. “I’m like a damn wizard or magician at this point” opening the beautiful umbrella that originated from Japanese style and era as i walk along the tree having such a time like I’m of those cliche moments in the past few years before the incident going to occur ‘okay stop talking like that or else you’re going to jinxed my happy time here’ i mean technically i could also imagine of me having a mythical animal ear….*smirk*

But even so a dream don’t last long even the nights and terrible nights as I could hear a familiar noise coming from a small looking box buzzing as i look to the side still in my outside outfit wincing at the brightness shining to my face as i groan in my dozing sleep as i have to reluctantly have to get up and get ready for another day “I suppose the dream can wait” oh they will wait for you because even if teyvat universe age is younger than you might think they can wait for eternity as the time go longer and farther you can see

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°˖ ʚ🍓ɞ ˖°

For those whose wondering, this account is from kanasashi more over my oc name kunikanasashi hearst is her full name for the story the background is simple for her; she originated from Japanese and she involves with teyvat because she plays the game to escape from the real world from mere pressure she gotten from high achiever and sport katana so she use the chances she get to play but rarely. She has a friend name esther chuumi; my friend oc, a male both have a fluffy relationship with chuumi looking up kunikanasashi and wanting to be like her someday nonetheless is like mother and son relationships. Some habit being the same, copying others action or something similar just like a family would have. Chuumi doesn’t have a family or blood relatives so he often seen live alone; an orphanage background

How did chuumi oc get into kunikanasashi dream? I have no entirely no clue

#sagau #sagau brainrot #sagau story #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #sagau oc #lol memes #zhongli #raiden shogun #hearst🍓#fanfiction #dumb stuff #dumb story

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