#in the dark version of this fic levi gets to dance with hange too but during her wedding with moblit😌😌😌

[fanmoose12]

the final part of the break up fic! (the first part is there, second one is here and the third one is here!)

It's the anniversary of their breakup and Levi is standing at Hange's doorstep.

And this - the fact that he remembers the day when they broke up but can't for the life of him remember when they got together - probably tells a lot about the reasons why their relationship didn't work out.

He doesn't remember the day they've started dating. Doesn't really remember who confessed first and what words were exchanged, but he remembers (how could he ever forget) their first kiss. It was sweet, exhilarating, it was the best thing in his life.

Every kiss with Hange felt like this.

Sometimes he closes his eyes and can almost feel her soft lips on his. Sometimes he wakes up from dream, fruitlessly chasing after her lips.

But his imagination, his dreams they don't compare to the real thing. Not even close.

Their relationship always has been more than a little bit rocky. From an unconventional start that began with "four-eyes, did you really just spill that coffee on me" to the deceptively calm middle that found both of them cuddling on the old, rackety coach he still didn't throw out to the devastating ending which Hange announced by shouting "if you don't care about me, then why bother coming back all the time".

She thought he didn't care, and Levi knew - he knew and hated himself for it - that he didn't show her just how much he had cared.

Hange wore her heart on her sleeve and he used to hide his inside a box behind a dozen locks. And even smart, brilliant Hange couldn't see through it.

And he didn't wish to show her until it was a little too late.

And now he's standing at her doorstep, dressed in his best suit and holding a large bouquet he doesn't really know what to do with in one hand and a giant plushie in another.

He blames the flowers for it, really. He was leaving another stupid corporate party with Erwin, when across the street he saw bright red peonies.

His legs moved without his consent, bringing him closer to that flower stall. His hands that took out the wallet and paid for the flowers refused to listen to him too.

And, while the flowers are a recent purchase and could be blamed on a moment of weakness, the giant pink plushie - something that looks like a horrible mix of bunny and lion - was bought a long time ago.

Three years, to be exact, on the very same evening that Hange broke up with him.

He was in particularly good mood, and when he saw that plushie looking at him with its red, bloodthirsty eyes from outside a shop, his mood became even better.

Hange would love this monstrosity so much, he had thought then.

But then he came home and saw Hange packing her stuff.

If you don't care about me, Levi, then why bother coming back all the time?

He didn't say anything then. He didn't know what. Because nothing - nothing - could be further from the truth.

He cared about Hange, still cares about her and will probably continue to do so until his dying breath.

But how could he say that, how could explain if he was never taught, never shown how to give and receive attention.

As he stood there, watching Hange leave, the damn plushie kept staring at him, as though mocking.

When the door after Hange closed and silence fell over his (theirs) apartment, he grabbed the plushie in his hands. He wanted to gauge his stupid eyes, tear his arms and legs out, rip it into pieces, destroy everything.

But he didn't. Because this plushie - it wasn't his. It was Hange's.

His heart would always be Hange's too.

***

And now he's here. Standing at her doorstep, not knowing what he's even doing here. Should he knock on the door? Ask Hange to come in?

She would just laugh in his face, and then kick him out. Or worse - her fiancé is going to kick him out.

Wouldn't that be pathetic?

He thinks of just leaving the gifts there, underneath her door - he wants Hange to have them, maybe, they'll light up that beautiful sparkle in her eyes or even make her smile... It'd be the best thanks Levi could ever get.

He is searching for the best place to drop the gifts, when the front door swings open.

Levi freezes, his heart stopping. He's afraid to look up, he doesn't know what is going to be worse - if it's Moblit standing there, or Hange.

On one hand, Moblit possibly won't kick him out forcefully. The poor sod is so kind and polite, he'd probably even invite Levi over for a cup of tea.

Hange, though... Once Levi saw her deck a man twice her size. What she is going to do to him, Levi is honestly afraid to even predict.

Still, he might be a pathetic loser, who lurks around his ex's apartment, but he's not a coward. He turns to face the door.

And locks gazes with Hange.

He swallows heavily, feeling like he's shrinking under the weight of her glare.

"You've been pacing around for more than ten minutes, Levi."

He was? He didn't even notice.

"What are you doing here?"

Good question. Levi had been asking it himself ever since he turned up here.

"I'm..." he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around nervously. "I just came to congratulate you on your engagement. Here..." he passes Hange the gifts.

She looks over them skeptically. Levi thinks that the ice is ready to break, but then she sighs.

"My engagement party was two weeks ago. And," she looks down, as though in shame. Levi stares at her incredulously. "I'm not engaged anymore."

The plushie drops to the ground. His jaw drops down too, but peonies - Levi holds onto them tightly, Hange doesn't deserve a ruined bouquet.

"What did you just say?" he whispers, not sure if he had misheard.

"God, you're an asshole," Hange mutters, rolling her eyes. She answers him, though, this time she even looks him in the eyes. "We broke off our engagement."

"W-why?"

Did he do something? Did Moblit, that deceptively mild-looking bastard, hurt Hange? Did he cheat on Hange? If he did, then, god help him, Levi would go straight to him and--

His thoughts are interrupted by a strong kick to his shin.

"Stop with the fuming face, Romeo," Hange huffs. "I was the one, who called off the engagement. We-- it just didn't work out. Moblit deserves someone better than me. Someone, who doesn't lie to him and doesn't try to see in him someone he is not."

Levi's pulse speeds up, making him feel dizzy. He curls his fingers tighter around peonies. He can't believe what he's hearing, but he gathers his courage and forces the next words out.

"Who were you trying to see in him?"

He knows the answer is probably going to break him. He can't be that lucky - he doesn't deserve it, but if there is a chance - just smallest chance, he can't waste it.

"You really are one of a kind, Ackerman," Hange glowers angrily. "Don't tell me you don't know who I'm talking about. Or, what, you want to hear me say it? Want to scratch your ego on my behalf?"

"Hange--" he chokes out, looking up at her and showing her the desperation, the pain he felt for all these three years. Hange swallows as she stares back at him. "Please, tell me."

Hange takes a deep, shuddering breath, like she's preparing for a fall, for a dive in so deep she's not sure she'll swim out on the shore.

"It's you, Levi," she whispers. "Damn it, it was always you. I tried so hard to move on from you, but I... I never could."

Her words, her confession turns his insides upside down. It makes him giddy and happy and--

And he wants nothing more than to say something in return, reassure Hange that he feels this way too, that he always felt this way, but-- he was never good with words. And he doesn't want - can't allow himself - to fuck this all up right now.

He never knew - never hoped - that he would get this chance. But he'd be damned but make the most (the best) out of it.

"Hange-- can I," his voice drops, laced with helplessness, "please, can I kiss you?"

Hange gives a small nod, and immediately Levi dives in, crushing his lips against hers. God, it feels good. And Hange's body in his arms, her long fingers in his hair - it feels-- feels divine.

After a long moment of pure bliss, Hange withdraws and, subconsciously, Levi chases after her lips, desperate to get more of her.

"Wait, wait--" she turns her face to the side, and instantly his happiness turns into worry. Didn't she... enjoy it? Didn't she feel the same after all?

"I'm more than happy to continue kissing," she chuckles and he's able to breath again. "But don't you think we need to talk about this? I thought you--"

"I was a fool," Levi admits. "I was young and dumb and didn't know how lucky I was to have you. I didn't get much smarter since then, but I-- I want to try again. I'll try my best to do better. If you allow me."

"And this?" Hange points to flowers and stuffed toy. "This is your better?"

"You don't like it?" he asks, more than a little confused. He was sure Hange would enjoy the gifts...

But if she doesn't, that's alright too. Whatever Hange wants, he'll get her. She just needs to say the word and he'll bring it.

"I can bring you something else..." he almost turns away, but Hange doesn't let him, grabbing his sleeve.

"Oi, give me that, that's mine," Hange huffs and snatches peonies and plushie out of his hands. She presses the toy to her chest, and Levi's own chest warms at the sight. "So what, should I expect more of this?"

"I told you I want to do better..."

Hange scoffs, interrupting him. "Just don't overdo it. I fell in love with the grumpy shorty. I don't want you to become a different person for me."

"I... alright," Levi sighs, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants. Now that Hange had taken away the gifts, he doesn't know where to put his hands anymore. He doesn't know where to put himself too. Whatever he was thinking as he drove there (and he wasn't really thinking much), he didn't expect this to happen.

For Hange to confess her love for him... He didn't expect this to happen even in his wildest dreams.

He knows what he wants to do - get Hange into his arms and never let go, and maybe, get more kisses out of her, but he also knows that this won't happen, not right away, at least. He promised to do better, and there is a lot of work waiting for him.

"You can come in, you know," Hange suddenly speaks up, bringing him back to present. "I think my neighbors had enough of this show. We can talk a bit more..." she trails off, playing with her hair. "I just finished cooking spaghetti. It's your favorite, if I remember correctly..."

"With cheese and eggs?"

Hange laughs, and Levi smiles in return. He's so happy, he feels like flying.

Hange laces her fingers with his, and he's ready to combust. "Yes, with cheese and eggs."

"Then it's only fair if I make tea for you afterwards."

"Alright," Hange beckons him inside. "We can watch some movie too, but," she raises her hand - another one, the one that doesn't hold Levi's. "You're going home for the night."

"Okay."

"And," Hange grins, leaning in to steal a kiss. She turns away, before Levi gets his chance to deepen the kiss. "You're taking me dancing this weekend."

"As you wish," Levi murmurs.

With Hange in his arms, he's ready to dance for the rest of his life.

[theaspers]

sappy love songs for the romantics ✨

thank u for participating in my scientific research that was honestly just me looking for new songs to listen and write very corny and very lame fics to hehe 

— that’s where it is | mammon

his grip around your wrist is tight as he tugs you along. he’s too fast, way too fast for you, but you’re way too high on adrenaline and the way his loud laugh rings and melds with yours to care. you can’t feel anything but a swelling happiness inside you, so much so that it almost hurts, and the sting of the cold devildom night air as it rushes against your cheeks.

“mammon!” you yell, between laughter and gasps for air, “this is all your fault!”

and it is. always getting into trouble, always dragging you along with him somehow. curfew is creeping close and when you get back, lucifer will probably be ready with an earful but there’s not a single part of you that cares at the moment.

“hey!” he counters over the pounding of both your footsteps, “you were there too!”

you laugh again, “shut up! now hurry, before they catch up!”

he comes to a grinding halt, grin mischievous as you stumble into him with a loud cry of pain. before you can complain, he leans over to press his lips against yours. when he pulls away, there’s a glint in his eyes that’s captivating.

he beams as he tangles his fingers with yours and starts back up again, “i’m not gonna come back for you if you fall behind so you better hurry up!”

— can i have this dance | diavolo

this is the third time, you think, and it doesn’t seem like diavolo’s keen on stopping any time soon. one of your hands is still clasped gently in his, the other resting on his arm. his hold around you is steady, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s even brighter than the blinding golden lights of the ballroom. it is indulgence in its finest definition, the future king of the devildom against gilded decor and bright reds and pink petals of roses with eyes only for you.

by now, the murmur of the crowds have returned, a constant thrumming over the smooth music that’s playing but you hear none of it. he’s been whispering charming little secrets into your ears, voice low and soft, silly observations about his guests, his plans for later on in the night. it’s exhilarating, the happiness that fills you is unlike no other.

“they’re all talking about you,” he tells you, grinning, pride lacing his voice.

you laugh as he guides you into a sweeping motion, footsteps fluid as he does, “i think they’re talking about you.”

when he pulls you close again, you return his grin, “but i don’t blame them.”

— can’t help falling in love (light version) // state of grace | simeon

when you see finally see simeon again, everything stops.

the time, your breath, the tiniest specks of dust suspends. the loud trumpets, the rushing winds, the fanfare comes to a still. there is only you and him and a rush of overwhelming emotions that crashes over you.

there’s a knot in your throat, painful and difficult to swallow around, a stinging in your eyes but the tears never come. seeing him - looking as wonderful as ever, resplendent in all his golden glory, the breathless beauty that you remembered him to be - is cathartic. laughter leaves your lips slowly, quietly, as you fumble, stumble your way into his embrace. his steps are as clumsy as you are feeling.

everything comes rushing back as soon as he draws you close, a non-violent violent crashing of bodies and limbs and emotions long pushed away. and it’s good. his embrace, the way his arms wrap around you. his laughter, pleasant like the ringing of chimes in the wind. his steady heartbeat, beating at the same pace as yours. the words spilling out of his mouth, of reassurance and comfort and love. nothing could be better.

— it’s not living if it’s not with you |  leviathan

he looks.

always for you, always to you.

he’s lying on his back on his floor, eyes following the curls and waves of blue that spills across his room, fingers thrumming against his abdomen. even now, his attention is all on you.

your rapt attention is on your phone, watching something that he’d recommended. you’re close. close enough that he can feel your warmth against his side. if he just reached over, he would be able to-

he can’t even finish the thought before his face burns.

he gives into the urge and yells out loud and you jerk in surprise, a small yelp leaving your lips.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

a lot of things, he wants to say, like how nice you look in this light and how your laughter has snuck under his skin and he saves them for moments you’re not around and how he just likes having you around. but even thinking about those things has him flustered and on the cusp of shutting down so he just launches into a rant about the show he has you watching instead.

— white blood | beel

beel doesn’t make it all go away.

it has nothing to do with him. everything about him is big - himself, his appetite, his emotions, his love. encompassing, engulfing. it helps, even if he does not realise it. but the exhaustion is bone-deep and too heavy for that - the weight of the worlds, endless thoughts that do not tire as they run in your mind, things you need to do and the things you have yet to do and the things you want to do.

it would be easy to slip away unnoticed, you think. to dissipate into the hustle and bustle of dinner prep, the hiss and sizzle and crackle of steam and oil and fire, beel’s occasional murmuring as he worked over a huge pot of dinner. nothing’s shaking off the biting coldness that you’ve been feeling, not even the usually welcoming warmth of the kitchen.

but he turns to you, eyes twinkling in anticipation, holding out a spoonful of the meal he’s been working on for the past hour and it’s grounding.

he doesn’t make it all go away, but that’s okay.

— just wanna be with you | demon brothers

this is nothing if not the epitome of unbreakable bonds: the brothers all sitting around you, chatting and laughing about mundane things over take-out. no one says anything about the dinner attempts that’s staining the kitchen counters, or at the bottom of a burnt pan or splattered over the walls. not even lucifer. no one says anything about your impending departure either, but it’s a gray cloud hanging over the room that’s easy enough to ignore over levi and mammon’s bickering.

there’s a softness around everyone’s eyes, a lightness about them that you’ve only just noticed - for just this moment, everyone is content. longing curls around your heart, squeezing lightly. oh how you wished you could save this moment, keep it close. it’s between a chorus of laughter that the thought comes to you - there’s nowhere else you would rather be.

— symphony | lucifer 

lucifer’s hummed midway through a song you’ve been singing under your breath for the past week before it clicks. it’s an odd little tune, and along with it comes an odd little thought: when was the last time he felt this free?

but it isn’t just him. even now, as he stops to think, you’re everywhere. in the squabbling between mammon and asmo, in the music that’s echoing throughout the house, in the low hum of the kitchen appliances. the house is no longer so quiet, so tense. it is one of the undeniable traces, proof, of the lives you’ve somehow managed to change in the short amount of time you’ve been here. levi’s and satan’s and beel’s and belphie’s and his.

he leans back and sighs but does not stop the small smile from curling on his lips. he’s never been too fond of anything too loud but this. he could live with.

— adore you | asmo

a downright shame that it’s always dark in the devildom, you think, because asmo looks good in the setting sun. loud and beautiful against pink and purple and reds, the best shades, the perfect shades for him. you just can’t look away.

he’s leaning against you, comfortable. he’s talking about something that happened to him in the past, smooth voice carried away by the cool evening winds. one of his pinkies is still curled around yours and cradled close. his laughter is a siren’s song. addictive. and it’s. how do you even explain how you’re feeling in this moment?

your icecream is melting, and your palm already feels sticky, and you should probably just throw it out. but instead, you lean over to press your lips against his, bursts of strawberry and lemon, tacky and soft.