#my friend is reading and she reminded me of these glorious bits

[lafcadiosadventures]

Can we take a moment to appreciate Balzac’s teenage Romantic and Hugolâtre protagonist Modeste Mignon? (Based on Balzac’s correspondance with Hanska and Goethe’s and Bettina Brentano’s, she’s an aspiring writer and a lover of the darker romantics -a bit like the heroine of Northanger Abbey perhaps-) this is how her very sensible and bourgeois chaperone introduces her ward, it’s a long quote but it’s fun:

“Modeste,” she said, “is a young girl of very exalted ideas; she works herself into enthusiasm for the poetry of one writer or the prose of another. You have only to judge by the impression made upon her by that scaffold symphony, ‘The Last Hours of a Convict’” (the saying was Butscha’s, who supplied wit to his benefactress with a lavish hand); “she seemed to me all but crazy with admiration for that Monsieur Hugo. I’m sure I don’t know where such people” (Victor Hugo, Lamartine, Byron being such people to the Madame Latournelles of the bourgeoisie) “get their ideas. Modeste kept talking to me of Childe Harold, and as I did not wish to get the worst of the argument I was silly enough to try to read the thing. Perhaps it was the fault of the translator, but it actually turned my stomach; I was dazed; I couldn’t possibly finish it. Why, the man talks about comparisons that howl, rocks that faint, and waves of war! However, he is only a travelling Englishman, and we must expect absurdities,—though his are really inexcusable. He takes you to Spain, and sets you in the clouds above the Alps, and makes the torrents talk, and the stars; and he says there are too many virgins! Did you ever hear the like? Then, after Napoleon’s campaigns, the lines are full of sonorous brass and flaming cannon-balls, rolling along from page to page. Modeste tells me that all that bathos is put in by the translator, and that I ought to read the book in English. But I certainly sha’n’t learn English to read Lord Byron when I didn’t learn it to teach Exupere. I much prefer the novels of Ducray-Dumenil to all these English romances. I’m too good a Norman to fall in love with foreign things,—above all when they come from England.”

Balzac goes on about her tastes a bit more here, and it’s Romantically Inclined Teen 101-excuse Balzac’s remarks about “girlish” heads and souls-:

“(…)Modeste fed her soul on the modern masterpieces of three literatures, English, French, and German. Lord Byron, Goethe, Schiller, Walter Scott, Hugo, Lamartine, Crabbe, Moore, the great works of the 17th and 18th centuries, history, drama, and fiction, from Astraea to Manon Lescaut, from Montaigne’s Essays to Diderot, from the Fabliaux to the Nouvelle Heloise,—in short, the thought of three lands crowded with confused images that girlish head, august in its cold guilelessness, its native chastity, but from which there sprang full-armed, brilliant, sincere, and strong, an overwhelming admiration for genius. To Modeste a new book was an event; a masterpiece that would have horrified Madame Latournelle made her happy,—equally unhappy if the great work did not play havoc with her heart. A lyric instinct bubbled in that girlish soul, so full of the beautiful illusions of its youth. But of this radiant existence not a gleam reached the surface of daily life; it escaped the ken of Dumay and his wife and the Latournelles; the ears of the blind mother alone caught the crackling of its flame.”

Finally, here’s Canalis’ portrait, he’s a bit of a poser, faux Romantic author, who has fashioned his looks after many of Modeste’s idols (i had read Canalis was based on Hugo, but given that Hugo exists in this universe, I am not that sure about that :p)

“In this instance Canalis, sketched in a Byronic pose, was offering to public admiration his dark locks floating in the breeze, a bare throat, and the unfathomable brow which every bard ought to possess. Victor Hugo’s forehead will make more persons shave their heads than the number of incipient marshals ever killed by the glory of Napoleon. This portrait of Canalis (poetic through mercantile necessity) caught Modeste’s eye. The day on which it caught her eye one of Arthez’s best books happened to be published. We are compelled to admit, though it may be to Modeste’s injury, that she hesitated long between the illustrious poet and the illustrious prose-writer. Which of these celebrated men was free?—that was the question.”

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 9

Hey... Sorry it took me a minute. I've decided this is definitely not the only club scene for them because there's a lot I want t explore with them. Part of me wants to apologize for adding so much in but I hope you guys love them as much as I do!!! They are one of my all time favorite pairings to write.

Also don't worry Im working on getting rid of Danny lol

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WC- 10.2k

Warnings- dom/sub dynamic, BD/SM, Exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading, choking, sir/daddy kink, pet/puppy nicknames, name calling, slight Mean Dom H mixed with soft Dom tbh, tiny bit of humiliation kink, aftercare is in the next part I promiseeeee

Y/N was buzzing in her own skin. 

So much was happening in her brain that it felt borderline overwhelming. She stood in Harry’s bathroom looking into the mirror with her hands on her face, just to confirm that she was, in fact, a real person. 

The night prior had been intense. A lot, but in a good way. Something had shifted between them, as she suspected, but neither of them were truly ready to talk about it. Harry was instead, a lot more affectionate which… to be honest, she hadn’t expected. It was a glorious change, feeling his hands or eyes on her whenever she was in a room with him. He’d had her sit on his lap while he proof read something on his laptop, his hand stroking over her stomach and underneath one of his shirts that he’d put on her after their bath the night before. There was no urgency to talk, Y/N leaning her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the warm, fresh smell of the man she was so connected to whilst scrolling on her phone. He’d made them breakfast and ordered them lunch, but she had noticed a distinct lack of kissing. 

It made her wonder if she pushed a bit last night, asking for one. Somehow she doubted it considering he had been the one giving her kisses the last few weekends together, but there was a weird seed of dread in her stomach that reminded her that at some point the weekend would be over and the warm place she had in the pool of Harry’s warmth would dry up and she’d need to come back up for air. To go through the week without seeing him, except maybe for a lunch, when she had grown so needy for his mere presence. He was attentive even when they weren’t physically around, more than the man she had called her boyfriend, but it still didn’t feel like enough. As weird and freaky as it sounded, she wanted to crawl under his skin somehow. Get as close as possible. 

Tonight they’d be going to the sex club. Something she was both excited and nervous about, the weird feeling in her chest making her wonder which one outweighed the other. Harry had communicated very clearly that this first visit was going to be rather tame- or, as tame as a sex club visit could be. They’d watch a scene he had pre chosen, a voyer couple in a room open to exhibitionists. Before that, they’d mingle and he would introduce her to some of his friends he had there. 

One thing she wasn’t too sure about though, was getting too close to anyone he had played with before. Y/N, while not historically jealous, found her skin crawling with ants at the idea of having to be around someone else who knew how he tasted, how he looked when he came. Sure, he wasn’t officially hers, but it felt like it more than she cared to admit. That had added on to her anxiety but it wasn’t something she wanted to openly admit to him yet, so she kept it under wraps for the time being.

He’d done something nice for her and got her a dress. A cute little thing, lacy and white. A sweetheart neckline and strapless, she was hoping the strapless bra was going to do its job- but then again, she kind of hoped maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he had chosen the dress for ease of access. The idea of him slipping down the top and playing with her in front of other people had her wet the moment she thought about it. 

Her panties, though, were noticeably missing in the ensemble. When she asked about them, his smirk had rose on his lips. “Who said you were getting any?”

So all in all, she was a complete and utter wreck of hormones and anxiety. 

Freshly showered, she had fixed her hair and sat staring at herself with her makeup half done. Another of the dominant’s shirts hung off her shoulders. He had a vanity that was cleared of anything but her stuff, which was nice, but another flare of jealousy had worked its way through her. Who else had used this vanity for this exact thing? Who else had been getting ready for him to take them to the club to play with them in the way that was so uniquely Harry? 

It was no right of hers to be jealous or possessive when she was still in a relationship, though it was one she was having her doubts about. Her phone remained empty of any texts from him. The longer he put it off, the less she cared about what he had to say. Anger wasn’t really there considering Harry had been giving her plenty of attention, but still. Her brain was craving the quiet only the Dominant had managed to give her. 

“Alright?” His sudden appearance made her squeal, jumping in her chair. Clutching her ever beating heart, she looked at him wide eyed in the reflection. Where the fuck had he come from and how long had he been there? 

“Fucks sake, H.” She wheezed. “You need some sort of bell or something. How long have you been standing there?” Where she expected a laugh, she got none. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, he turned the chair towards him and lifted a hand to tilt her head up. “For a minute or two. I was waiting for you to notice but…” Eyes scrutinized her face. “You’re nervous.” 

There wasn’t much she could hide from him. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on it, but it was still annoying, borderline unsettling on how he could read her like an open book. “A little. It’s not a big deal though.” 

“We don’t have to go yet, if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to go at all.” His voice was soft as he kept his face placid, clearly trying not to sway her either way. It was yet another confirmation to her that he actually did give a fuck about her well being. 

The idea of not going at all, though, made her shake her head rapidly. Wouldn’t that mean they would cut off their arrangement? As selfish as it was, she couldn’t give him up yet. She couldn’t give up the orgasms and the kisses and the praise, just as much as she didn’t want to give up the daily texts and jokes and pictures of Buttons when she was back at her own place. “No! It’s just, it’s a little intimidating. That’s all.” She sighed, leaning into his hand. That seemed to soften him a bit, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tried to gage her. 

“What about it has got you intimidated?” 

It felt oddly good having him standing over her, petting at her. His gaze soft, looking down at her as he tried to make her feel comfortable but undeniably in control of the situation. Of her. 

“You know people there, mostly. But the whole thing. I know we’ve gone over what we’re doing but it feels bigger the closer we get there. Y’know?” She puckered her lips over the pad of his thumb, watching as his smile tipped the corner of his lips. These tiny acts of intimacy were going to be the ones that ruined her. “I’m very excited. It’s what I’ve wanted, you know? And I kinda think that makes me put more pressure on the expectation.” 

Harry hummed in his throat, nodding along to her observations. It made logical sense and she knew it, but seeing him agree made her feel a little better. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting after all. 

“It is intimidating. It's taboo, in a way. Something that’s going to shock your system. You don’t go many places with people being so open sexually around you. It isn’t so blatant until the shows start, but even then. It’s the sort of stuff you're used to fantasizing about, and to see it right in front of you can be a lot to take in. Seeing people on leashes, or full body spandex, masks, all of that. It’s new to you, so I expect it to be intimidating to you. But may I offer you a few pieces of advice?” 

Y/N would lick his shoes if he asked in the right tone of voice, so she nodded. She wondered if she would get away with it, and his eyes did narrow, but he chose to let it go. 

“The only person I’m going to be focusing on when we go is you. I have some friends, yes, and I’d like you to meet them and their submissives, but I’m not expecting you to make best friends at the first meeting.” He started, ever so slowly pushing his thumb into her mouth. Testing the waters. Like second nature, she began to suck lightly on the tip of it as he continued talking, the tip of her tongue brushing the pad of his finger. “But the real advice I have is to let go. Let me control the night. I’ve got you, I’ve got everything you need to do up in my head. All you’ve got to do is follow directions. If I tell you to say hello? Say hello. If I don’t, you don’t. If I tell you to sit on my lap, you sit there. Tell you to get on your knees, you do it. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Because everyone else there is doing the same thing, if not, they’re there to watch it happen. There’s nothing you need to worry that pretty little head about.” His eyes darkened slightly as she took his thumb a little further into her mouth, blinking up at him. “Okay? Daddy’s got you.” 

Somehow it worked. Some of that anxiety melted away, realizing he was fully serious. All she needed to do was listen to him. That was the backbone of all of this. 

“You’re in control. You’ve got the power to color out, you’ve got the boundaries and I’m just there to make sure you’re tended to properly. Remember what I said, hm? Me being in control is only because you allow me to be.” 

That had been something she learned more and more as the time passed by with him. As incredible as it felt to have him be in charge, she had the ultimate say so. She could color out at any moment. There was no reason not to trust him because he had never given her a reason not to. 

“Your safe word isn’t just for sex, either. Anything you want to stop tonight, you tell me. I know you’ll be good and remember that, but I just need to remind you before you hand yourself over to me. I will never be disappointed or angry because you need a break, or you don’t want to do something. I care about you a lot more than I care about nutting off or showing off to people.” 

In truth, Harry would never forgive himself if something happened and she ever felt unsafe with him. It was a team effort, yeah, but he did think he was good enough at reading her that he would be extremely upset if he didn’t predict something like that. Y/N did run a bit anxious sometimes. He’d been able to get her to a point where she completely let go for him, and he wanted to repeat that pattern over and over until the weight that she felt on her shoulders lessened. As strong as the woman was, he wanted to help take some of it on his own back. 

His thumb pulled from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’, the dominant ignoring the whimper and smearing the sweetness of her saliva over her chin. It was the world’s highest honor to see her eyes round out for him, to watch her track his every moment like the eager pet she had proven to be for him. Knowing she wanted to please him made him feel more powerful, more fulfilled, than he had been in a very long time. Showing her off was something he had been more than looking forward to doing, but there wouldn’t have been any use in doing it if she wouldn’t feel equal enjoyment. “Are we okay, Sweets?” 

“Yeah.” She sighed, the sigh exhaling against his damp finger. “I gotta finish getting ready though. You have my outfit picked out on the bed?” 

“I do.” He nodded, lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair that brushed her cheek. “And you’ll be wearing that black peacoat over it. Should keep you nice and warm.” Tilting her chin up, he placed one of the first kisses of the evening on her pouty lips before smoothing his thumb back over her mouth. “You’ve got time, darling. Don’t worry.” 

—--

Y/N felt marginally better as she held on to his hand, clinging for dear life on his wrist with the other as they waited at the front entrance. 

There had been quite a lot she expected from a club dedicated to kink. Karma was as sensual and mysterious as ever, but the front of a closed hair salon letting them in had been a shock to the system. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Harry had lost his mind until he opened the back room door and exposed an entirely different aesthetic. A black and gold elevator, black marble floor and red curtained walls. That had to be a bitch to dust. 

With a key card, he placed it on the gold plated button pad and it opened for them to step inside. Now that she was in the elevator she could hear some music, some people, but nothing she could have ever expected from the street view. Privacy was very important to them, as she could tell. “They’re going to put our phones and my keys into the locker and we’ll get them on the way out. It’s for everyone’s privacy, but there are staff in there to ensure you have an out if you need it.” Unwinding their fingers, his grip changed to her jaw to tilt it up to look at him. The casual dominance had her knees weak. How did he manage to do it so seamlessly? “We’re gonna check out coats, and then we’ll go in. You are safe with me, Pet.” His tone was gentle, reminding her again how he had been the best thing to wander into her life. There was no saying shit just to say it. The man wanted to assure her, drill it into her brain, that he was completely here for her and everything they did was because she wanted to do it. 

As intimidating as it was, she swallowed the lump around her throat and gave him a nod before allowing him to take her coat off.  Standing in front of a hostess and the man who worked the coat check in her little outfit had made her a little stiff at first, but the moment she heard the quiet curse under his breath, their opinions didn’t matter. 

He had chosen a maroon babydoll for her to wear tonight. Satin cups clung over her breasts while it transferred to a tight knit mesh-like material that flowed over her body and hit her upper thighs. The panties had been a bit of a different choice, rather simple silk ones with lace trim. She’d expected lace, a g string, something else but they were really nice. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy as she had tugged them up her thighs and settled the waistband on her hips. The outfit had surprised her a little considering she had thought maybe he’d want her to wear something completely form fitting or restrictive, like spandex or leather, but instead he’d gone with something more flowy and light. Maybe he was starting them soft for the first time, but it was the sexiest she had felt so far in her life. 

“You look incredible.” He mumbled, placing the coat numbers on the counter with their phones and his keys. “Fuck me.” Lithe fingers traced over the straps, the feather light touch stopping at the necklace he’d chosen for her tonight. A simple gold chain with a heart. At first she had thought he would give her one of those collars, but she wasn’t sure how that worked. 

“I was going to give you the one with my first initial, but I was saving that.” The admission made her eyebrows raise. Why hadn’t he done that? “I wanted to ease you into it, and for some reason you’ve been turnin’ me into a possessive son of a bitch. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep composure if it was on there like that… But I don’t think that matters too much now, anyway.” 

Harry had always known he was attracted to Y/N in otherworldly, almost inappropriately intense ways. While he could be a jealous man, he hadn’t felt it to this degree. Irritated that she didn’t have his name on her neck or a traditional sign of ownership. He was a weak man when it came to her, but he didn’t mind when he could see her preen slightly over his words. The one thing that was soothing his inner caveman was the fact that she had marks from him on her body. Love bites blooming from the swell of her left breast and one he’d sucked on the right side of her neck, a few little bruises from his fingers digging into her hips… They were little badges of honor. 

He’d caught her this morning, admiring them in the foggy mirror. He’d come to bring a fresh towel before she got into the shower and watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the marked skin, the tiniest little smile on her lips that made his cock twitch. If they hadn’t had plans to come here tonight he would have bent her over the counter and gave her more. That silent appreciation at the tiniest hints of ownership meant more than she would ever know. 

“I can wear it next time.” She peeped, meeting his eyes. “I like this one too, but… I like the other idea.” 

The silence was loud for a moment as he observed her, the admission making her look a little flustered. Every day it seemed they were slipping into something far more serious than they’d set out to, but the unspoken words lingered under their tongues. It wasn’t the right time to discuss. “Noted.” Thumbing over her chin, he nodded at her before tucking the tickets from the coat check into the pocket of his pants. “Come on then, Pet. Let’s have a look.” 

—-

Y/N’s eyes were wide as they took in the vast room around her. 

Holy fuck. Harry hadn’t been kidding about it shocking her system. 

His hand held the back of her neck as she was guided towards the bar, where she was warned didn’t sell any actual alcohol for safety reasons. It matched and exceeded her expectations upon first glance. 

The stage was set up with some sort of bench, but it was obvious they’d come before the show had begun. People milled about, laughing and talking as if nothing abnormal was happening- like the woman in her all spandex dress chatting to the bartender, drink in one hand and chain in the other. Connected to the other end of the chain was a man on his knees for her, leather mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth. Not far from her in a booth across the way, a man had a woman on his lap with his hand down her top, playing with her tits and keeping a conversation. 

It wasn’t extreme, no, but it had her a bit spooked. Even more so when she looked to the side and saw a girl on her knees and her face buried under another woman’s dress. So he hadn’t been kidding- it really did happen anywhere. 

Heat flushed over her chest as she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly as she tried to calm her heart. It wasn’t a bad thing, she didn’t think, because she could feel herself becoming excited. Just a walk through and she was warm in her tummy, feeling that anticipation climbing all the way up her throat. She had to wonder what Harry was going to surprise her with tonight. 

“Alright?” He mumbled, turning to face her as they approached the bar. The promise of a sweet, sugary mocktail had been enticing but now her curiosity was wanting to take over. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head, meeting his eyes. The hand on the back of her neck gave a subtle squeeze, pulling her a little closer. “It’s… I’m curious to see what else goes on, but I think it’s interesting.”

“A lot of things are happening in the rooms. The main stage show isn’t anything too extreme, but the rooms are different theaters on this level, and playrooms on the top level.” The split level was apparent to her now, reminding her a bit of a hotel lobby she’d stayed at once on holiday. Rooms surrounding the top with a walkway that looked down while the bottom was an open concept until it split into four hallways. The place was truly beautiful, albeit a bit intimidating. “What did you want to drink?” 

Y/N looked over the menu with curious eyes, smiling lightly when she saw someone had made a plethora of fruity and sweet concoctions modeled after bubblegum, blue raspberry, cherry, all sorts of stuff. There were more tame things, pina colada and mint julep, but considering she was experimenting tonight she chose something she normally wouldn’t. “Can I have the cotton candy one, Sir?” 

“You may, yes.” The subtle correction had her face flushing for a moment, but she could see he was teasing a little from the dimple threatening to break on his face. God, he was so gorgeous.

It was always apparent that Harry was handsome, but seeing him like this was a whole different experience. His shoulders were bigger, back straighter, a more controlled and poised version of him was at the helm. Was this his best self? Being a dominant, taking and guiding her? He’d said multiple times he liked taking care of people, liked being in charge, so it must feel really good to have her eyes on him at all times. 

When she’d brought up that she’d read a lot about people in her books had dominants that preferred them to avert their eyes, but he’d scoffed at it. In opposition, he’d told her to keep her eyes on him at most times. Joked about it soothing a bit of his ego, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was really a joke at this point. Either way, there would be no complaints about that when the man looked as good as him. Sharp jaw and nose, dark lips, eyelashes that pissed her off because they were so pretty… The man had a way about him that reminded her of classical art. 

When the bartender came over he was greeted with a smile, which he reciprocated with a small one of his own before ordering her the drink she wanted and himself some sort of iced tea thing. She had no clue, considering she was a little busy zoning out. His hand had started to subtly massage the back of her neck and her eyes had glazed over a bit, being pressed into his side making the scent of him increasingly soothing. Perhaps he was doing it for that exact reason, but that was why he was in charge. He knew what to do to calm her nerves. 

As soon as the bartender walked away, he turned back towards her. “And how are you feeling?” Eyes dipping over her body, Y/N swallowed as she knew exactly what he was talking about- and why he looked so damn smug. 

He’d helped her put a plug in before they left. The smallest one, but it had still worked her up a significant amount. There had been something weirdly erotic knowing that he would know why she was shifting around. Trying anal for the first time the night prior had been a mind meltingly good experience, making her even more eager to try new things. It had always been a fantasy of hers, but she hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. How full and connected she would be with it- but again, that was possibly just a Harry thing. He had made the simplest thing far more pleasurable. 

“Good.” She nodded, watching his eyes linger on her breasts. He’d spent time after their sex last night kissing on them in appreciation, letting his lips hover over the marks before he lotioned over her body. Physical touch had to be his top love language, she had deduced. “I, um… It feels weird when I walk. But not bad, Sir.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re walking a bit differently, but you’ll grow used to it. Even more so, I think you’re going to learn to love it.” Adjusting the strap that seemed to be slipping down her shoulder continuously, he let his touch linger. “You’re going to be my good girl and let everyone see how perfect you are, aren’t you?” The tone of his voice dropped into a deeper one, her body reacting to it as she leaned into his touch. “I can’t decide if I want you perched on my lap all night, or if I want you on your knees in front of me.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Decisions, decisions.”

“Whatever you’d like me to do, Sir.” She replied, though there was no true preference. Y/N was aiming to please tonight, subconsciously feeling the pressure to prove she could be a good submissive for him. 

“Oh, I know, pet. You don’t have a choice in that.” He laughed under his breath. “Precious girl. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll tell you to sit and speak like my good Pup, alright? You just stick to me.” 

Y/N a few months ago would probably try to fight his words and the condescending tone because that was what was expected of her. Y/N a few months ago would ignore her body when it reacted to those words. Y/N now, though, let her eyes widen and simply agreed, because deep down that’s what she’s been wanting to do. 

When the drinks arrived, her eyes widened at how pretty it was. A soft pink with some sort of glittery shimmer in the drink, the movement of the liquid catching the light. It was by far the most beautiful drink she’d ever seen in her life, and she didn’t want to waste a drop. Holding it in her hand, she let Harry wrap up with the bartender before turning back to her with a new look on his face. “C’mon, it’s time t’say hi to some people. Best behavior.” With a slight pinch to her chin, he led her off.

Harry’s familiarity was evident in how easily he navigated the club. Winding through people with polite nods and greetings, he radiated the now familiar air of power. It was a little different here, though. While he always held the power in the bedroom, there was something that had snapped on his face when they walked in the room that had her ever curious about his past experiences here. Experiences she wouldn’t ask about for her own sake of delicate feelings, but things that he must have done, said, experienced in this secret cove of underground pleasures. 

Yes, it was a bit whips and chains-y, but there was a classy layer to it that she liked here. The weird feeling of belonging settled in her gut as his hand squeezed the back of her neck, keeping her close as they approached a slightly elevated section. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, taking in every bare tit, every collar, every hand wrapped in hair and laugh in the room as he led her up towards their destination that she had almost missed it completely.

Thankfully she caught herself as Harry gently urged them to a stop right in front of a booth full of people. Semi circular, the tabletop was a bit far from the booth itself- but it was clear why as she looked down at the people. 

There were two people on their knees of their perspective dominants. A brunette with her cheek resting on a blonde woman’s knee, fingers brushing through her dark hair and sparkling nails catching the light as she did so had particularly caught her eye. Instead of a tight outfit like the domme at the bar, she had on a powersuit. Her eyes didn’t look down towards her submissive though giving her physical attention, sharp hazel eyes looking over Y/N like a examination. 

“Isn’t she delicious, Styles?” She purred, cat like grin painting her red lips. “Who is she? I know you’ve been gone for a bit… is she why?” The woman seemed pleased at the prospect of Harry having a new submissive, even if she looked at her like she could eat her for lunch. Her face felt hot as she looked up at Harry, the ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“She is.” The confirmation had the people at the table grinning which caught her a bit off guard. They didn’t know she was temporary and he seemed in no rush to tell them- and neither was she. Maybe they could play pretend here, like she was really his and he wanted to keep her for good. The first of many times they’d come together for as long as they felt so inclined. “This is Y/N. She’s been a wonderful little pet for me. My favorite.” A hand fondly ran over her hair, a little smile on his lips now as he was happy to show her off. “She’s a little new to this, but very eager to learn. So tread lightly, yeah?” 

For some reason the information being told didn’t offend her. Maybe if someone else here seemed like it was funny to them, if they’d scoffed, did anything but look understanding she would feel that shame, but they didn’t. They simply nodded, letting Harry slip into the end of the booth. “On my lap for now, Pet.” He patted his thigh, holding his ringed hand out for her to take.

Y/N could feel eyes on her as she nodded, a quiet ‘yes sir’ leaving her lips as she was adjusted over his lap, legs over his thighs as he wound his arm around her waist to keep her body steady. “Say hello.” The words weren’t disguised as a request. It was clearly an order. Why did she find it so hot? 

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.” She peeped, leaning into Harry’s touch as he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. It was pretty clear on who was a dominant at the table, versus the submissive. Two were on their knees, two sitting under their dominant’s arms, and one in a similar position to Y/N. 

“Is it your first time here?” A man asked this time. His voice was softer spoken but there was an edge to him that screamed that he was in charge. It was a little similar to Harry in which he looked kind, but anyone with sense would know not to question their particular brand of authority. 

“It is, yes. H-Sir was helping me adjust before I came here. He is the best teacher.” Throwing in a bit of praise for the dominant had the desired affect, lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss. 

“What are your thoughts? It’s intimidating, isn’t it?” The woman from before asked curiously, though the hungry spark didn’t leave her eye until Harry spoke to her. 

“I’m not sharing her, Cara.” He said lowly, his hold tightening on her. “She’s not on the menu. Look but don’t touch.” There was a slight edge to his voice though it wasn’t hostile quite yet. Secretly, Y/N let herself preen over the possessive nature being shone through. Knowing he had no desire to let anyone else have a taste of her was beyond comforting- which, she knew was entirely ironic considering the context in which they met.

“Oh, boo.” She sighed. “You’re very beautiful. Harry’s not fond of sharing his chips either so I should have known, but there’s no harm in trying.” The demeanor shifted slightly to something lighter. “My girl likes to have playmates sometimes, but we’re a little picky.” 

Y/N could only imagine. If Harry expressed desire to add someone in for a scene she wouldn’t be too fond of letting just anyone in… but then again, she didn’t want to share in at all in the first place. It wasn’t a closed minded thing, more so the idea of someone else taking his attention away from her making her stomach ache. 

“It’s good to be picky.” Harry nodded. “But my girl isn’t up for shared scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever want to share her.” Fingers brushed over her cheek, still cool from his drink. “I don’t think anyone can blame me for being selfish with a beauty like this.” 

Heat flooded her body, a shy smile on her lips as she looked at him and watched his eyes darken. His pupils dilate. There was no question in her mind that there was truth to his words in this way she had just witnessed them, but it still felt unreal. “You wouldn’t want to share me either, would you?” The words had been softened just for her consumption, the moment being looked over by the others who began talking amongst themselves. For them, though, they were in their own little bubble. 

“No, sir.” The whisper matched his own volume, but the answer made him pleased. She could tell by the look on his face, lightening her own mood just by that alone. Y/N never knew how much she would truly enjoy this sort of thing, never understood how much Harry would change her life, but she was here now and it felt far more intense than one could imagine. 

“Then we’re settled, yeah? They can watch us, but m’not gonna let them touch you. Nor me.” The addition made her giggle, though it was cut off when he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Gentle pressings over her mouth, she counted three before he pulled back and rubbed over her chin. A wistful look followed, his eyes full of contemplation as he looked her over. Back and forth, his thumb swiped the remnants of the kiss before he let himself out of the mindset, leaning back into the booth. “Since you’ve had your greetings, I want you on your knees for me.” Reaching behind him he got a little cushion, dropping it on the floor. Spreading his legs out, he motioned for her to get between them. At least he was thoughtful with her poor knees. 

Y/N was weirdly excited for it. Slowly sinking down and settling with her heels touching her bum, she looked up at him expectantly as he watched her get settled in her new position. It felt… right, being here. Like this. Looking up at him as he spread his legs and looked down at her with a practiced patience on his face. “Sit quietly like a good girl. We’re going to go watch that show in a room in 20 minutes. If you can behave here, I’ll make sure you cum tonight.” 

Y/N knew what he meant. Not to provoke him and get him hard. As much as she wanted to do that, wanted to mouth at his cock and be a brat so he’d force it in her mouth,’or her over his lap to redden her ass, she wasn’t quite that brave yet. Tonight was to prove she could be a good girl for him, the best she could be. Maybe if she was good enough, he’d tell her that he was keeping her. 

Listening to his order, she rested her cheek on his thigh and closed her eyes as she found herself in the situation the other woman had been when they’d arrived at the table. His fingers sprawled through her hair as he talked quietly amongst friends, twirling tendrils between his digits as he got to the ends of it. Every so often the submissive could feel his eyes look down at her, which had her opening her eyes and smiling up at him. The pleased expression he had each and every time had her wondering if he knew what went through her mind. 

If he told her to break up with Danny? She probably would. If he confessed that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her as his real partner, submissive or not, she would release herself from the other relationship she was having major doubts about anyways and go to him. Belong to him seriously.

Even being on her goddamn knees in front of him at a kink club, she felt more appreciated than she ever had. Even when he called her a dirty bitch, a nasty whore, a cockslut, she felt more worshiped and heard and ultimately cared for than she ever had. Harry listened to her. There was never a singular time since they’d started this arrangement that he hadn’t thought about her wants or safety in great detail. He hand fed her fruit he sliced by hand after scenes, brought up juice to her mouth and whispered to her to have sips after he was finished ruining her body. He broke her apart, yeah, but he built her back up again. Even better than he had first found her, if she was being honest. 

Never in her life has she felt as heard, scene, and adored as she did when Harry gave her aftercare. When he texted her through the week to make sure she had a good day. When he asked her her favorite color the first day they met and made sure she had light pink straws in her drinks each and every time. Harry paid attention to her. Not just in scenes, where he seemed to pick apart her every reaction and know just how much she could handle, but last night too. He could feel her upset, did what he could to fix it. Proved yet again that he was the better option of the two.

What was stopping her? 

Fear. Not of Harry, not of Danny, but fear of losing this feeling. She’d end up alone again, wistful for this exact scenario where she knew she couldn’t get it again. No one else would be able to make her feel the way Harry felt in her body and her mind and that was fucking terrifying. Admitting that only to potentially be rejected was worse than staying in a bad relationship. Maybe she was a coward- she knew she was- but she needed his promise. His words. Too many times in her life she had been let down, let her heart hurt and chip and bruise. A rejection from him would shatter her heart and all the work she had put into mending it and the wall she had tried to build up to make her softness toughen up a bit would be inconceivably damaged. 

Times like tonight, meeting his eye and watching him tuck her hair behind her ear as she rubbed her face against his knee, she swore she could see the golden flecks of longing in his eyes too. When they were in bed after their scenes and his arms wrapped around her so he could haul her back into his body, she could feel inklings of something more under her skin. Even when he’d greeted her last night with a kiss in his driveway, a kiss she knew would lead to nothing sexual and just a genuine token of affection, she had felt that something was more with him. And yet she was frozen with fear every time she went to ask him how he felt about her. Terrified that he would reject her and their entire dynamic would be screwed. 

Little did she know, he had the same dilemma.

Watching her nuzzled into him, sitting so fucking perfect and pretty and meeting his eye with those gorgeous fucking smiles, she looked so content with him. Like she was made to be in this exact scenario. He’d never felt more proud of having someone on his arm, and yet she wasn’t actually his. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without spilling those feelings towards her.

His holdback was the fact that she was the one in a relationship. She’d tried to mend things with Danny, but part of his confusion was knowing if she did it because she wanted to or if he had stupidly pushed that by trying to do the right thing about it when she expressed her resentment towards him. All he wanted to do was make the girl happy. It was only a few months of knowing her. He shouldn’t feel this much, so soon. 

Realistically he knew that it was likely because they shared such intimate parts of themselves with one another. This dynamic, lived in even if only on the weekends, was intense and serious and Y/N leaned into every bit of it with an eagerness only matching her nicknames sake. A puppy. So fucking sweet, she’d roll over and show belly if he asked her to right now, but instead she was content with her face on his leg and his hand in her hair. 

His mind wandered to what it could be like if she left the other man. If she walked away and went into his arms, let him show her how he could treat her so much better. What she didn’t know as well was he was still holding back a bit. Emotionally, more so.  

His heart felt like it was in his throat when he grazed his fingers past her cheek, watching her lashes lift off her cheek so she could give him her eyes. “You’re bein’ perfect for me, Pet.” He murmured, watching as she preened. His words always seemed to have a significant effect on her but the girl was slipping into a more submissive state with him here. It was his job to take care of her, to show her the things she’d been missing out on and desperate to experience. “Are you ready to go and watch?” 

“Yes, Sir.” She lifted her cheek from his knee and angled her head back, allowing him to tap his fingers over her chin and get a smile from her. Everything felt more loaded than they could talk about right now, but she was doing exactly what she needed to do. Falling into line so perfectly that Harry really didn’t have much he needed to correct. Pride filled his chest as he let himself smile back at her, nudging her to stand up. 

“Lets go then. Stay with me.”

—-

Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected in this scenario, but she knew there was nothing that would be realistic in her mind that could have prepared her for this night. Walking into the room where the scene had already begun, Harry held the back of her neck and led her towards a loveseat in the back. The throple on stage weren't paying anyone much mind, the room half full as the sounds of a masculine groan filled the air. The stage was lit with two doms and a sub, all beautiful in their own right. 

She stayed quiet as she waited for directions from Harry, eyes on him as he settled himself on the seat. He didn’t speak, instead grabbing her waist and turning her around to sit on his lap. Back against his chest, he spread his legs and hooked one each of her thighs over his own to sprawl her out. The position left her rather exposed too, but the thrill of it caught in her chest as she felt the thick of his cock against her ass and his arm wrapping around her waist. 

“Look at them.” He mumbled, keeping his tone quiet. “Watch.” With his chin against her shoulder, he slid his fingers over her thighs. Up and down, the touch slightly distracted her from the performance going on up the stage. It was becoming very apparent that her devotion to the Dominant was deeper rooted than she’d thought. All this time she’d been anticipating this, but all she could do was think about him and his hands on her. 

“How does it make you feel?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he looked towards the show himself. “They make a nice little show, don’t they? Is that something you’ve thought of?” In front of the girl on her knees stood the Domme and other Dominant. The Domme’s hands held a leather leash connected to the collar of the girl, wrapped around her fist as the other hand gripped the submissive’s ponytail to bob her head on the man’s cock. Y/N did her best to pay attention to the performance in front of her, the wet heat between her thighs getting more intense as his fingertips brushed up and down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. Images of it being them flooded her brain, the barriers breaking as his lips nestled right underneath her ear, puckering just so. 

In her vision, there would be no Domme. The scene would include just him and her, his hand wrapped around the leash tight as a show of ownership. Her collar would be prettier, something more suited to her personally. Maybe a pink leather or more of a chain with a heart charm like she’d seen on one of the other subs at the table, but it would be one he picked out special for her. His fist would have her locks wrapped around it like a secondary leash, using her mouth and showing off just how much she could take. Ideally, it would be after she trained a bit more to take him deeper. She loved the idea of people being able to watch her, to see her take him down her throat. Being able to see how well Harry handled her, how she listened to him, the dynamic between them. Maybe at some point she’d be able to be a bit more bratty and get punished for it- having him fuck her throat as a punishment, or use his hand against her ass. 

“Hm? I asked you a question. Answer me.” He muttered, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Can almost hear it from here.” 

Y/N swallowed, leaning further back into him as she tried to unfurl her tongue to tell him. “I-I like it. I’m thinking about us up there, Sir.” Keeping her voice quiet to be respectful to the throuple, she tried to be loud enough for him to hear. It was hard with how shaky her voice felt, his fingers trailing over the edge of her humid panties. It was hard to think straight with him touching her, his scent all over and his mouth on her neck and the sound of the praises from the Domme, the submissive choking slightly on the Dominant’s cock. 

“You are?” He sounded intrigued. “Hm. I think you’d look pretty up there. What part of it is making your poor cunt wet like this?” Fingers tapped against the damp gusset of her panties, teasing with the light touch. It wasn’t enough to make her feel much relief, but the knowledge his hand was there was enough to make her swallow back a whimper. “I know you love my attention, but I’m starting to think you’re a bit more of an attention whore than I thought.” 

The light degrading made her dizzy, the arm around her waist lifting to grip her throat lightly. “Keep talking, Puppy. Quietly.” 

It was hard to keep talking but she tried her best. It was a little unnerving to realize just how much mental power he had over her, but she knew she was safe. Maybe she felt a little pathetic that such light touches had her in a tizzy, but this whole night had been edging, hadn’t it? This was the main event, watching people indulge in the taboo pleasures like it was a theater show while her own Dominant teased her over her panties. “I-I like that she has the collar n’stuff, and people are watching her choke on it.” She whispered out, breathing getting a little harder as he nudged her clit lightly with his thumb. Rhythmic back and forth, just a tiny hint of his touch but it was enough to make her want to buck into it. Harry was making her feel insane, but the entire thing was playing into it. 

Watching them on the stage, knowing other people were around that could see her being spread open and touched like this, the way Harry was hard under her ass, it all had her tummy hot and head fuzzy. “And I like that they’re bein’ a little mean to her. Makin’ fun of her, Sir.” Her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth as she admitted to those things. The condescending teasing of the Domme to the Submissive each time she failed to take the full length down her throat had sent a zing to her cunt, imagining Harry calling her those names and giving the mean encouragement to get her to do her very best in front of all the other people. 

“Christ, you’re a whore.” Harry laughed incredulously into her neck. “You want to be degraded like that in front of other people? Because… I know for a fact you can’t take all of my dick into that throat. S’a bit too big and as cockhungry as you are, I think you’d be a little embarrassed about not being able to do what you should be able to.” The twinge of shame melted into arousal, his thumb nudging her clit a little harder. Was it a reward?  She didn’t know, but she didn’t want it to stop.“As for the collar…” Fingers uncurled from her waist , moving up to collar her throat. “I think a better one would be better suited for such a slutty puppy. Jus’ didn’t realize you needed to be leashed too.” 

His smallest finger went underneath the necklace that served as a collar for the night, tugging lightly at it. “You’d need to belong t’me properly for that. I don’t collar up just anyone, baby. Is that something you really want?” It was probably not the correct time to dip his toes into the question of a more serious arrangement, but he wanted to hear her answer. 

“Uh-huh. I want it so bad, Daddy. I can be so good for it, I’d love it.” Her whine was a little too loud, a coo leaving his lips as he lightly applied pressure at the sides of her throat to shut her up. The answer, the fucking eagerness of it had his cock twitching against her ass and his heart pumping a bit harder. Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but the vulnerability of the moment had him doubting it was some sort of illusion. 

“Mm. We can discuss that when you’re not so worked up and soaking the pretty panties I got you. You need to keep your voice down, be respectful.” The warning was twofold. He had to table that conversion or he’d get his hopes up far too soon. The slip up of honorifics, though, had been intriguing. “I’m Daddy right now, hm?” 

“Mhm.” She attempted to nod as his fingers lightened their pressure. “Touch me, please. I’m achy.” Squirming slightly in his arms, another squeeze to her throat had her freezing in place before his other hand decided to ease down the waistband of her panties. 

“I don’t know how I feel about you making demands, Pet, but you’re making quite a fucking mess.” His voice dropped, feeling her pulse in his fingertips. “God, you’re gonna cum so fuckin’ quickly. I can feel it.” Y/N was drenched, his thumb finding her slippery clit to rub in light circles. “It’s a little too much for your filthy whore mind, isn’t it? Sitting at my knees, acting like the perfect little submissive for me… Seeing all those pretty people playing, dressed up so nice. And now Daddy’s brought you to a nice little show. You paying attention?” He urged her attention towards the show. “He’s gonna cum on her face, just like I’ve been dying t’do. Or are you more aroused at the knowledge that anyone can look over and see your pussy being pet like a desperate slut?”

Yes, yes, yes. All of the above, check all the boxes. Y/N would beg more if she could find it in her brain to talk, but it felt so good. The light grip at her throat making it slightly harder to breathe, how he was talking hushed into her ear and the vibrations made her feel even more squirmy, his fingers on her cunt, she just felt like she was dreaming. Like this was some sort of high before the ultimate one, looking to the side and catching a few eyes on her. She’d made a tiny bit of noise before, surely making people aware that she wasn’t behaving, but it felt all too real now. 

“And now you’ve gone dumb for me. I need an answer from you, Angel. Need a color before I make you cum.” He nudged her face to the side, lips resting against the corner of her own. “Color?” 

“Green. I’m so good, I-I…” She panted, eyes glazed but looking into his own. They were hooded, dark, and it was obvious in all ways that he was aroused too. He showed more restraint than she did, but he wasn’t unaffected by it all. “Sir…” With little thought to consequences, her own hand came up to the back of his head and pulled him closer so she could press his lips against his. 

Harry didn’t usually kiss in the club. He didn’t like them being seen in that way most of the time, feeling that those were supposed to be shared for more private and intimate moments- but Y/N had a way of making him throw a lot of his prior rules and regulations out the window. Didn’t she? He groaned quietly, licking into her mouth, trying to ignore the hot spark of arousal in his cock her hands tugging his hair closer to her had given him. For a moment, he gave in and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and the uncoordinated mess that was their kiss. He took the moment to slip two fingers into her cunt, curling them into her slick hole to get her to gasp. Hot and tight, he held back another moan at the feeling of her cunt fluttering around the intrusion. It was one of his favorite feelings, her breathing picking up against his mouth. 

The broad hand around her throat tightened again, making her eyes peel open again. Wet mouth illuminated by the red lights around the room, he panted against her open lips. “Remember your fucking place. You want a kiss? You ask. You aren’t in charge. I am.” He growled, trying to keep his voice down as he fucked his fingers into her. “I’m the one in charge. Not you. I choose if you cum or not, I choose if you get kissed or fuck. Your body is mine to play with. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll be the next one on that stage.” He grinned maliciously. “And I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I won’t be as nice as I’ve been before.” 

Letting up on the grip, he swallowed her gasp with another kiss. 

It was moments like this that Y/N could see it. She could see this being her life, this being her night out with him. Instead of dingy bars with sports games she didn’t give a singular fuck about, she could be here watching shows and learning, she could have Harry’s fingers deep inside of her, his cock inside of her, whatever he chose, giving her pleasure that was immeasurable to what she’d ever known before. A literal wet dream came true. 

Y/N couldn’t respond, nodding lazily as the slick sound of her cunt being fucked with his fingers slicked up by her arousal became slightly audible. The throuple on stage was the loudest sound in the room, but underneath it all she could hear exactly what he was doing to her. It was humiliating to be this wet, to be this close to orgasm from a few minutes of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, a bit of choking, his whispers against her ear, a few people peering over at them and she loved it. His hand around her throat, keeping her tight to his body, and she felt the most free she’d ever been. 

There was an attempt to warn him, his fingers prodding right at her spot and her legs beginning to tremble as she squirmed slightly on his lap, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He’d have to force her to be. “Let go. Make a mess on my fingers and be fucking quiet.” The dominant let her take another deep inhale before he returned his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying pressure exactly where she needed it to steal the rest of her breath. 

Y/N could see spots in her vision as she came. If he wasn’t stopping it, she probably would have sobbed out as she shook in his arms. Cumming hard and fast, hips bucking into his hand, his words cooed softly against her ear and brought up chills against her skin as the vibrations added to the sensations that tossed her over the edge. 

“There you go, stay nice and quiet. Cum all over my fingers, you perfect fuckin’ girl.” He coaxed, pressing them against that spot over and over again whilst his thumb rubbed her throbbing clit. She could feel the contractions of her walls around him, a deep breath being taken as he eased up on her throat to make sure she recovered, but he didn’t stop his prodding. “Work through it. People just saw that, yeah? Saw how good you are, amazing and how quiet you can be. Saw how beautiful you are when you cum for me. Such a precious angel.” Little kisses were pressed to her sticky skin, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and a little empty as his words soothed the orgasm that rocked through her body. “There we go, sweet girl. Y’did perfectly. Took your reward so well, yeah? You were made for this.” His praise added another layer of warm, fluffy comfort to the pleasant feeling that coated her body, the words echoing in her brain. All she could think about was how good she had been, how good it had felt. Good, good, good. She was a good girl and Harry was proud of her. “Gonna take you home in a few, baby. Just let you get a good cuddle in first, clean you up and sneak out of here. We’ll come back and you can see our new friends again.” 

This whole thing had pleasured her. Not just the orgasm, but the entire place. Her head had felt calm since she’d settled at Harry’s feet, quickly getting over nerves and settling into that feeling of correctness. Ease. It felt like she belonged here, even with the underlying anxiety. With anyone else but Harry she wasn’t sure if she would have felt that, but it had just been another experience he had made positive for her. Of course he did. He was perfect. 

He’d walked her through it, held her hand, helped her know what to expect but- She’d known she would like this sort of thing. Y/n had always thought about it, but actually experiencing it was a whole other beast. One she wanted to experience again, and again, and again- If Harry would let her.

[qpjianghu]

shaking crying screaming throwing up re: Desire Catcher (2019)

(Show CW: there is sexual violence involved in the core case. Please take care!)

I need to just ramble incoherently for a hot sec because oooooo boy the vibes are impeccable??

The TLDR is:

The two male leads have a relationship that's like Wangxian spiced with Pingxie. I know. I KNOW. The pining is off the charts, my friends. Truly unparalleled.

There is absolutely no romance whatsoever! (Except for the case where there are two men who adopt an abandoned baby together?? I mean?? ^_^) Huge win for the aros!!

If that's all you need, read no further, I shall not spoil. Come back and scream with me when you're done.

More detail below:

There are lots of surface-level similarities to Under the Skin: Frenemies-to-bromance male leads, one is a cop with a chip on his shoulder and impeccable dark/leather jackets, the other is a floppy-haired, khaki-wearing consultant with a peppy demeanor that hides deep personal trauma... but, honestly, I think Desire Catcher is what Under the Skin WISHES it was. (No shade if you loved Under the Skin -- I just personally wanted a bit more from it.)

The male leads, my goodness. Zheng Yecheng plays Lu Fengping, and Xin Yunlai plays Luo Fei. They are both so FREAKIN' good. Their characters at first just seem like typical archetypes of the stoic one and the bubbly one (WHICH I LOVE ANYWAY) but they take everything to the next level with their microexpressions that both reveal and conceal their haunted pasts, and extreme pining. Which leads me to...

The Wangxian of it all... *delighted sigh*... The person who wrote like the one fic on Ao3 in this fandom pointed out (much more eloquently than I'm about to) that Luo Fengping spends most of the show trying (and not knowing how) to save Lu Fengping the same way that Lan Wangji spends so much time trying (and not knowing how) to save Wei Wuxian. I won't spoil anything about their successes vs. failures in this post, but I have been turning around this brilliant point in my head for a week now and I am still vibrating at a totally normal frequency about them.

Which brings me to the devastating trope of how do you save someone who doesn't want to be saved? Yes yes yes OF COURSE this is a Mysterious Lotus Casebook reference. Come chew glass with meeeeeeee

And there's also: The Girl Cop!! (lol) Liang Yin!!!!! I ended up loving her. I need to watch the show again just so I can love her more, because the whole time I was worried she would become a love interest to one of the guys she shared a past with. But they all find solace and redemption WITHOUT romance!! What a concept!

Which brings me to another show this one reminded me of: the k-drama The Guest. That show also has a glorious polycule who are all connected through a shared trauma and need each other to heal. HOOK IT TO MY VEINS.

The case of the week stuff was pretty good. And by pretty good I mean completely devastating.

The big final plot resolution was a little werd ngl but you just gotta squint through some of the copaganda, shhh, it's fine

(The ENDING though.... literally just heart eyes all over the place, motherfuckers)

Look I know I said there wasn't any romance, but Luo Fei and Lu Fengping spend at least five minutes every episode pining at each other / into each other's eyes RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD while a dramatic ballad plays in the background, so, like. That's a thing. <3

Did I literally pay for the more expensive Viki subscription service so I could gif their pining in better HD?? Who's to say???

[melting-houses-of-gold]

Hello! I have been following you for a bit, mostly for ACOTAR content, but I did read your newest Rexsoka work and I really enjoyed it! I am extremely new to the Rexsoka/Clone Wars fandom but would like to dabble in it and see if anything catches my fancy. Do you have any recommendations or places to start? I know there’s a lot out there but their dynamic and tension reminds me a bit of a few ACOTAR ships so I’m curious! Thanks so much 😊

Hi anon! I'm twirling my hair that my little fic got you interested--it's a ship that's VERY near and dear to my heart! We have some great fic writers, so I would LOVE to recommend some of my favorites.

I don't know if you've watched any Clone Wars, so I'm going to list some here where you don't need to have any significant pre-knowledge of canon. If you have watched any, I can totally rec some of the more canon-compliant/divergent ones that I've enjoyed. So these are all AUs, which I adore anyways.

In no particular order, here are some faves, and honestly ANY of the works by these authors are ones I'd recommend!

I lied when I said I didn't need you by @jewelofmandalore: A GFFA college AU that has exquisite dynamics. She's also kicking off a great series that's very loosely inspired by House of the Dragon's Rhaenyra and Harwin, but no knowledge of either Star Wars or HOTD is needed to enjoy this one!

sharp & glorious thorn by @chocmarss: Medieval vibes, enemies to lovers, and some simply gorgeous writing. I re-read this one probably once a month -- it's just so delicious.

they didn't prepare him for this on kamino by @darthgoosegoose: this is a WIP but so juicy! When ACOTAR folks start dipping a toe in rexsoka this is the one I recommend because it has such impeccable sithy, enemies to lovers, quarantine couple vibes. I love it so much.

one day by @amukmuk: Modern AU, friends to lovers, and so beautifully written. this one is for sure slow-burn vibes and I cried when it was done, because the ending had such a good payoff.

shameless plug for something I wrote with friends: The Valley of the Mythosaur, which is loosely (LOOSELY) inspired by The Mummy.

Feel free to slide into my DMs if you need any more recs. There's so much incredible fic in the clone wars fandom for so many excellent ships, so if you're ever looking for anything beyond rexsoka, happy to help and share the brain rot.

[sweetmonsooncos]

The First Cosplay I Ever Made...

Last year, I took a dive into a very dangerous rabbit hole of sewing. It came about for two reasons:

Number One - My Mum would make amendments to my clothes for them to fit me better like shortening trouser legs and such - it always seemed so simple so I wanted to learn how to do it as well.

Number Two - Because of my body type, there were certain cosplays I just couldn't buy pre-made due to Asian sizing not catering to me.

So I wanted to share the process of me making my first ever cosplay from scratch and how I managed to achieve it.

And the cosplay is...Mikan Tsumiki from Danganronpa!

Mikan has always been a very polarising character within the DR fandom I've noticed, but me personally I really like her! She was one of the very first characters I cosplayed and she's gone under alot of alterations since I first got into her. So let's dive in to how I made Mikan!!!!!

So first thing I did was buy my fabric. I went to my local fabric shop and picked up some white, pink and blue cotton. Ultimately I didn't end up going with the blue pictured here because I made a mistake and had to buy more fabric. I went with a lighter one because I was a tit and didn't think to colour match but the lighter skirt worked out better in the end so I'm going to pretend I did it on purpose 🙈

First thing I tackled was her apron, which I figured would be the easiest thing to begin with! So, I measured out the white fabric and cut it out, then used a basic running stitch to put it altogether. I also cut a longer strip, neatened it up on the sides and then attached this to the top to make a tie for her apron. Using some red ribbon, I hot glued that down on the sides to make that piece appear. I wasn't sure whether to sew on the ribbon, but I'm actually really glad I didn't because if any of you read my Jolyne cosplay post, sewing with ribbons is a BITCH 😭

Then I went in and did the bottom of the apron, adding some very square pockets and neatening up as best I could!

I also binge watched Staged on my iPad (you can see the glorious David Tennant in the corner) while I sewed this all up and that show is just another reminder how well David Tennant and Michael Sheen work together on stuff

When it was ready, I attached the full apron together and it was done! I went in later on with a fabric pen and drew the blue symbol towards the bottom of the apron which you'll see in the finished photos.

Next was her skirt! I had a vague idea of how the skirt making would go; the first photo was the material cut to size and the second one was my first attempt at making it pleated...it wasn't great 😂 You can see from the side that it looks HORRENDOUS - I showed it to my friend and he said it looked like a parachute so clearly it wasn't giving the desired effect 🙈

After my second attempt, I was a bit put off trying to sew in pleats again, so I just ironed them down and it came out a lot better! I neatened up the top and bottom and the skirt was completed. I do want to add since I took these photos, I actually recently went and added a zip to the back of the skirt so I can get it on easier! I also made it fit me a little better too.

Next was her blouse! For this, I read up about using pre-exsiting clothes to make patterns for sewing, so I got a blouse that I use for my Kaede Akamatsu cosplay and made a pattern out of it. I then went and cut the fabric out and basically sewed it altogether.

And it was during this process, I came face to face with a new enemy...SLEEVES.

Oh my god, I absolutely CANNOT STAND SLEEVES. I tried SO hard to understand how to put them on, but I could not for the life of me work it out. To this day, I still struggle with adding sleeves to my projects and I absoliutely hate having to sew them. I made a little test sleeve out of some spare fabric to see how it would sit on my arm, but I really struggled with the fit on the shoulder so I went for a different style instead which was easier to work with (but only slightly).

So after the sleeve debacle was sorted, I went and added some elastic on the ends of the sleeves as trim, which I hoped would make it bunch up like it does in her original outfit, but it didn't really work out that well. I'm probably going to revisit this at some point in the future to make it a bit more bunched, but that's for another time! I also made a collar and gave the blouse some buttons.

This was the first try on of the complete outfit and you can tell how pleased I am with it! I was so proud of making this entire thing by myself and although it is far from perfect, I did learn a lot through the process and it felt so nice to be able to wear a cosplay I had completely made from scratch.

And here is the cosplay in full with makeup and hair!!!

For my first ever cosplay from scratch, I am extremely proud of it and am happy to say it has held up well almost an entire year later!

[princesscolumbia]

Return to Recipient, Ch. 5 - Akane One Note

I just can't seem to stop writing for this story...

Summary:

Akane has been noticing things seem...different. She's not sure what's going on, but Ranma seems to be at the center of it. He's doing...schoolwork and making friends and... ...okay that's not exactly 'nefarious,' but after the frustrating 'training' on Sunday, she wants nothing better than to have a bitch-sesh with her friends... ...why do they seem so serious?

Notes:

No, nothing to do with Death Note (and don't expect a Death Note inspired chapter, either. DN's concept is boring to me and while it has it's fans nothing they've said or shown me has convinced me the show is at all within my sphere of interests). It's a reference to an old saying; "Johny One Note," meaning someone with only one predominant quality that defines their entire being. Quick note of thanks to jaaaaaasmin for spotting some misgendering of my own damn OC I did in Ch. 4. Which does remind me, I'm posting this straight form the AO3 'new chapter' box with no editor or pre-reader, so if you spot an obvious error like that, please let me know in the comments. 😊

Preview (as usual) below the cut:

The intervening classes between the rather unusual start of the day and lunch were all a blur of similar incidents. Ranma raising a hand to answer questions in class. Ranma getting a better grade than expected. Ranma taking serious notes and actually opening her textbooks.

His. Opening his textbooks.

Ukyo seemed to take the change in Ranma in stride, clearly just as in the dark about it as Akane but apparently more willing to simply roll with it. The aquatransexual and the okonomiyaki chef even got into an impromptu debate over some point in history about the Sengoku Period about whether Nobunaga would have succeeded in unifying Japan if he hadn't been betrayed by Mitsuhide, and it got heated enough the normally lenient history teacher even reigned them in a bit.

During the break between classes, Akane commented on it, "I didn't know you had that much of an interest in history, Ranma."

The redhead shrugged, "It's Warring States Period stuff. Lotta martial arts came out of that time period."

Hiroshi and Daisuke wandered over to socialize, "Man," complained Hiroshi, "Now I wish I'd paid more attention to the plot in Battle Girls: Time Paradox."

"Wouldn't've helped," smirked Daisuke, "The main character changes the course of events and Mitsuhide is convinced to not turn on Nobunaga. Lot of plot happens after that, which means you can't use it as an alternative to reading your textbook."

They laughed as Hiroshi groaned expressively.

"What's Battle Girls: Time Paradox?" asked Yuka, her and Sayuri leaning in from the row on the other side of Ukyo to join in.

Ranma snickered, "It's actually a really cool anime! Dai pointed out it's not exactly historically accurate, but a girl from modern times gets transported to an alternate timeline where it's only women, so all the historical figures are now really hot girls."

Daisuke and Hiroshi said in almost reverent, breathless unison, "Nobunaga..." Daisuke clarified why they were so in awe of the historical name as he held out his hands as though cupping a frankly gargantuan pair of breasts.

Ranma rolled her eyes, something Ukyo noticed. "Not a fan of girl-Nobunaga, Ranchan?" she asked.

"No, I am. She's a kick-ass martial artist that's destined to rule Japan in that timeline. I just don't care as much about how big her chest is 'cause if you made me as tall as her my rack'd be just as big. Aint that I don't appreciate the view," she shrugged, "But I know just how much of a challenge bein' a fighter is with a pair of meat sacks stuck to your chest is."

Hiroshi got on his knees in a pleading posture next to Ranma's desk, "Ranma-chan, I beg of you, please don't ruin the mystique of a glorious pair of breasts for me!"

Ranma rolled her eyes as Ukyo, Yuka, and Sayuri cackled and Daisuke just shook his head at his friend's antics. Before Akane could figure out what she was feeling about all this, the next teacher came in and everyone returned to their desks.

~~~

Read the rest on AO3

[lil228]

Red White and Royal Blue Notes Day 1

WARNING: Spoilers for both the Red White and Royal Blue movie and the book up to chapter 5

I think it’s funny that Alex’s love story is referred to as Shakespearean considering what’s to come. 

“It’s funny how you think everything is about you” (page 14). Lol- especially bc he’s the literal main character of this story.  

“Systematically drunk” (15) LOL

“Mutual antagonists” (17) 

“Sorry I’m not obsessed with you like everyone else” (18). Oh buddy that’ll change soon. (Alex about Henry)

OMG that whole conversation is so good!

Cakegate is really funny for some reason.

“As the president all I want is to have the CIA fake your death, and ride the dead kid sympathy into a second term.” (23) I see where Alex gets it from. 

The foreshadowing! Like Zarah telling Alex to gush about Henry like he’s his prom date.  

“I’ll do it but I won’t have any fun” (Alex) “God, I hope not.” (Zarah 27) HAH! Alex is going to have fun, maybe too much fun.

Look I know Alex thinks it’s nerdy but if someone told me Great Expectations was their favorite book I would like them even more. 

Ugh! the foreshadowing in this is just so good like when Nora speculate on why Alex has to sign an NDA and one of the reason she give is that he’s (the prince) is Gay. Lol (page 39)

Lol Alex being unable to decide if he Texan or Mexican side is more upset about English Breakfast (page 41)

Foreshadowing- Alex says Henry is “annoyingly attractive (43)

  I don’t know if being an English major broke me or if I’m a mega nerd, but I want to write a literary analysis paper on this so badly.  

Alex’s reasoning for wanting to get into politics is so wholesome (43)

Henry’s interaction with the caner patient is so cute (45)!

“You’re not the prince of me” (47). It’s just so good. Has this author written anything else? Please tell me they have. OMG they have! I will be needing all of their books now thank you very much.

“Are you trying to psycho analyzed me?” (49) lol, I feel like I say a variation of the this all the time when I’m with my psych major friend.

“I’m sensing an ellipsis (Henry) “It’s just…” (Alex) 51. This book sort of dose that thing that White Teeth did where it’s aware that it’s a novel, but it doesn't do it the same way. It’s more subtle and uses more irony.

 Okay Alex and Henry bonding over Star Wars is sweet and kind of nerdy. I like it. 

“But isn’t there something to be valued in a happy ending as well?” (52)

Alex taking a class called The Press and The Presidency is absolutely hilarious to me. 

That one commenter ships it (55)

“B*tch McConnell- I’m dying homygod 

Like Senator Luna, I to can be easily bribed with candy

More foreshadowing on 57. Also I don’t know why but I’m not getting good vibes from Senator Luna

Old money Sith powers also has me dying

The president of united states comparing her children to possums is so funny. 

Also her reminding her children to not discuss their murder plots in front of her

Ugh this book is so good! 

“Leeme romance the hell out of some focus groups” (66) This book is gold 

  The text exchange on 68-9 is amazing

I can only hope to write something this amazing one day.

Nora asking Alex if he’s reading fanfiction about himself made me laugh out loud- at work, granted it’s deader than Marley in this place today

The whole bit with the Turkey is just glorious! Ya did it to yourself Alex.

The way Henry talks to his dog is so cute, and so it the fact that he watches The Great British Bake Off 

Amy’s great!

Page 90- Yes Alex go off!

I love Bea, she’s great, peak sister energy

June is also peak sister energy. 

95- more foreshadowing when June talks about it being like a rom com

“You know I love chaos” (Nora)- 96

I think its really sweet that Henry wants to be a writer 

107- the first kiss! (Squeals)

[blodgmonster]

Crescent City: House of Sky and Breath reread commentary part 3.

I think only Lindsey reads these but whateva. Here we go.

-The mystics are fucking creepy as HELL. Shut that shit down..

- Phone sex. Come on. I'm not a prude in any way but this feels...unnecessary?

-Bryce offering Celestina girl talk if she needs it is so sweet!

- I wish I could remember how this mystic wolf is connected to the Fendyr's but she totally is. I might just google it.

- The Hammer is such a piece of shit the way he treats Lidia. I can't remember what happens to him but I hope Lidia kills him. She earned it.

-"it looked like a metal sarcophagus." Flashbacks to ToG and Aelin in the metal box.

- I love Lidia. She's playing badass, cold blooded killer while also dropping the summoning stone that will get them to safety. I love her and her complexity and contradictions and I hope the rest of her life is long, happy, and full of love with Ruhn and her boys.

- Ruhn says the Bryce and Hunt are true mates. I forgot that and kept wondering if SJM was going go pull the rug out from under us ans have Bryce have a different mate.

- It's a bit weird that Bryce knows that sex is the thing to calm Hunt down. That could have gone very poorly. But it's hot so oh well..

-the dragons being shifters is cool. The dragons being considered Lowers is stupid. This dragon being a slave is awful. A dragon is no slave.

- Day's story about the witch in the woods. I would read that story. Just saying, SJM.

- Part 3: The Pit. I really could have done this by parts like I did with the first book. Well. Next book I'll know better.

- The Pit though...just reminds me of Parks and Rec.

- I'm glad they found Emile but WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER KIDS THAT SOFIE RESCUED FROM THE CAMP. It's really buggjng me.

- Hunt is still kind of pissy because Bryce didn't share her plan with him. He would not last an hour in the court of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius that's for sure.

- The Harpy gave some folks a blood eagle-ing and Hunt thinks "This was what the Hind, the Asteri would unleash upon him and Bryce." Bro, the HARPY did it. Not the Hind.

-Ruhn is embarrassed of his house when Hypaxia arrives. "His disgusting, beer-soaked house. Solas, a half-smoked mirthroot blunt sat in the ashtray on the coffee table a mere foot from Hypaxia." Yeah. Grow the fuck up, Ruhn. You're like...in your 50s. Just because you look 20 something doesn't mean you have to keep living like an asshole frat boy. EDIT: he's over 75 YEARS OLD.

- Hypaxia's mother’s general is named Morganthia. That name is awfully close to Morrigan.

- aaaaaaand Bryce's use of the Danaan name comes back to bite her on her perfect, glorious ass. Lol Bryce Adeladie Danaan, initials spell out BAD.

- I'm glad Bryce and Hypaxia become friends.

-there's a god(dess?) called Urd. Which sounds an awful lot like Wyrd.

- Ithan is supposed to be a bodyguard. He's such a fuck up.

-"In a world full of enemies, you're my only friend." LIDIA.

- Just ONCE in my life I want to go to a masked ball. Please!

- wait. So Hunt and Bryce are like...married by the rules of the fae. What the hell is with SJM and NOT writing weddings?

-Hypaxia and Celestina. Another sort of tragic pair that can't be together.

- "He hated that word — bitch." Tharion is such a wonderful, chaotic himbo. I know he gets kind of annoying (along with Ithan) in HOFAS but I like him.

- Oh, now wait now he's talking about stringing the River Queen's daughter along (why doesn't she get a name) and fucking that leopard shifter and it's like...bro, I need you to drink more respect women juice please. Be honest for once.

-and now he wants to bring Ari to Beneath. You want to take a previously enslaved dragon (a creature of FIRE and wind) under the fucking water in order to save your own ass?

- "From a time when Urd was not a goddess but a force, winding between words? When she was a vat of life, a mother to all, a secret language of the universe." Wryd. The Cauldron. GAH!

- "Daeth is the only victor in war." Ain't that the truth?

- "Because Danika was my mate."

Alright, we are fast approaching the last 100 pages. Time for a part 4

[crazychaoticizzy]

Tay I’ve got a bone to pick with you

i’m a mad and sad and happy and all the emotions right now

anyways here is basically every single thought i had while reading this and I regret that it took me so long. uhm. it’s a lot jsyk

spoilers under the cut <3

i’m so scared (the mantra in my head as I read the first bit in Canada)

him promising to give her a better wedding is literally everything

Reiner poor baby 🥺 he was one of the only ones that loved her so purely 😔

honestly I think Reiner wanted a movie love story after playing so many and Y/n just couldn’t give him that so i think it’s actually bittersweet they aren’t together anymore even if i find it DEPRESSING that he still loves her so much

“I would’ve liked to take you with me, but I’ll get over it, ‘s long as you’re happy”

HELP WHY AM I SAD OVER REINER I DONT THINK I EVER LIKED HIM 😭😭😭

“Your love story had ended, but loving him was one of the greatest decisions you’d ever made” OH!

why am I actually tearing up right now oh my god

saying “you won” is crazy though like did y’all really see her as a prize 😭 i take back what i said

LEVI GOING TO THE BEACH FOR HER 😭

the fact that Eren literally just gets out of the hospital and is already hauling ass to sign autographs is so funny to me

OH MY GOD I FORGOT EREN WAS MISSING FINGERS WHAT??? NOOO OH MY GOD 😭

“Neither one of them could remember the last time they’d embraces each other” oh 🥲

side note but Eren and Jean’s dynamic is always so interesting and I love reading it but Tay you did not have to go and make me cry like that AGAIN 😒

okay guys i get that being loved by Y/n is a treasure but what is with everyone treating this like a game or something 😭 like being loved by her is a glorious thing but jeez give her a break please

“And when you looked at Levi with a loving, shy smile, Eren felt his heart snap into pieces.” there are so many one liners and one liners always hit hard but DAMN you’re going for the throat Tay

… what’s Levi’s real plan??

“Thanks for playing along-“ WHATS LEVI’S REAL PLAN???? IS THIS SOMETHING WE WENT OVER THAT I FORGOT OR AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED?????

Stop the complexity is terrible because i’m supposed to hate connie for killing my boy armin but you’re making me feel bad for him and sympathize with him

you can’t just do the happy flashback after all this depressing shit goes down

Eren hating the bees and thinking the school is out to get him is so real

STOPPP ITTTTTT THIS MEMORY IS MAKING ME CRY

ITS SO HARD TO BELIEVE THIS KID THAT MISSES HIS MOM TURNED INTO THIS CRIMINAL

life is wild yall this is making me realize that because like imagine that. like being so nice and innocent and all it takes is one incident to turn you onto a completely different path than you imagined. like so much so that people barely recognize you

(unnecessary rant sorry guys life is just so beautiful but also crazy)

another side jot but kids are so amazing because they’ll make friends with anyone just because they also like dinosaurs and j think that’s so beautiful

stop I FUCKING HATE WHEN THIS HAPPENS BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS SO SAD AND IT JUST MAKES ME DEPRESSED AND ITS TERRIBLE

oh my god is Levi gonna fucking die too

this is just making me so fucking sad oh my god

i think i’m just gonna start typing all the lines I like as I have been doing anyway:

“He would, perhaps, spend a lifetime trying to get over you.”

then talking about Jean reminded me of something you told me….. wasn’t he her stalker 🤔

STOP BRINGING ARMIN UP I KNOW ITS BEEN MONTHS BUT IM STILL NOT OVER THAT 😭😭

“You’re the definition of a spoiled rich dude,” you said with a teasing tone. “No way would I hold my phone over a body of water unless I knew I could easily buy another.” -this might be a far reach and me finding stuff that isn’t there but i feel like this shows how she was raised and how she still sort of thinks that way ykwim?

the smut was a pleasant surprise i’m not gonna lie 💀 i did not think we would be getting that at this point

“I don’t think we were made to just love each other,” Levi’s forehead was pressed against yours as he spoke lowly. “I’m starting to think we were made to fuck each other too. You’re taking me so well.” -gah dayum 🥵 straight out of a romance novel jesus

OH MY GOD ERWIN AND HANGE 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

IM ACTUALLY SO HAPPY THEYRE OKAY

oh my god bye that plan was literally explained at the beginning i’m just stupid 🚶🏻‍♀️

not me thinking he was gonna fucking die (Izzy later ate her words because he did, in fact, fucking die.)

it’s still so wild that one event can change the trajectory of someone’s life so drastically like that’s actually insane

i’m terrified oh my god

i’m so scared

i can literally feel my heart beating in my head that’s how nervous i am oh my god

imagine this being like a TV scene and there’s no music only natural sound and the backtrack of a heartbeat so loud it almost blocks out what they’re saying

(imagining the shots and those details is the only thing keeping me from putting the phone down and pretending everything ended when Y/n was still happily married to Armin)

I AM SO SCARED

BITCH-

WHAT-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

OH MY FUCKING GOD

I JUST POPPED MY JAW AND IT FUCKING HURTS ON TOP OF THE SHOCK IM SO

TAY WHAT THE FUCK 😭😭

NOOOO OH MY FUCKING GOD

LEVIS GONNA FUCKING DIE I CANT

IMAGIN BEING HANGE AND ERWIN AND JUST WATCHING THEIR BEST FRIEND GET SHOT RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM

OH MY FUCKING GOD LEVIS DEAD

NO YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO “YEARS AGO” YEARS AGO MY ASS WHAT DO YOU MEAN

WHY DO YOU ALWAYS PUT HAPPY MEMORIES AFTER SOMETHING TRAUMATIZING HAPPENS TO THESE CHARACTERS IT GIVES ME WHIPLASH TAY

i will admit “It’s not gonna turn into whiskey” is funny but i’m still mad 😒

MARIE MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ (sorry i love her and Erwin and Nile’s dynamic it’s so wonderful so much so I wrote a fic based on it and no this isn’t self promotion ✨)

“I think romance is a waste of time. Loving someone is stupid, because no matter what, it’ll always end in pain. Heartbreak, divorce, death . . . It’s unavoidable, so why waste your time when you’ll always get hurt in the end? That’s what I think, at least.” Levi took another sip of his tea. “If I die alone, I’m fine with that.” -STOP BECAUSE HES NOT OKAY WITH THAT ANYMORE

oh my fucking god Levi’s gonna die

STOP HES APOLOGIZING TO THE SKY THAT MEANS HES GONNA DIE RIGHT THERE

STOP LEVIS GONNA FUCKING DIE

OH MY GOD

guys i can’t do this anymore i should’ve pretended Y/n and Armin were happily married when I had the chance I can’t go back now 😭

FUCKING CONNIE OH MY GOD

STOP

NO

FUCKING CONNIE

BITCH

OH MY GOD

LEVIS FUCKING DEAD

TAY WHAT THE FUCK

(excuse the limited vocabulary)

i’m so

stop oh my god i’m fucking crying

Erwin comforting Y/n is literally everything this is all so

i’m distraught

fuck connie oh my god

another side note and psychoanalysis of a character because i’m trying to distract myself from this BUT Erwin is definitely the type to not want to break down and in preventing that he carries the weight of everyone else on his shoulders thank you for coming to my tedtalk

STOPPP NOT THE PHOTO ALBUM

OH MY GOD THATS GONNA END UP BEING THE LAST THING OF HIS THATS GONNA BE TRULY HERS OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD NOW SHE MUST FEEL EVEN WORSE ABOUT HER MISCARRIAGE BECAUSE NOW THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING OF LEVI LEFT EXCEPT MEMORIES AND THE FUCKING PHOTO ALBUM

LEVI FUCKING KNEW OH MY GOD

IM SO-

UGH

IM IN DISTRESS

i’m scared to read the letter

oh my god this trope is my demise it’s so good and hits every time but it always hurts so bad

OH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT TO BE WORRIED ABOUT LEVIS PLAN HE PLANNED ON FUCKING DYING

oh my fucking god

YOU WERE MY ONE TRUE LOVE AND I WILL NEVER REGRET DYING FOR YOU

“But if that doesn’t happen and you kill me, then I forgive you.” -I don’t have enough crying reaction images for this (false)

i don’t even know what to say oh my god

THREE YEARS???? TF YOU MEAN THREE YEARS????????

oh my god is his blond guy Erwin?? did Y/n start her own record company too???? she really did become Connie copy and paste

ARLERT RECORDS STOP IT

OH MY GOD

STOP

I CANNOT

i keep getting hit with waves of sadness because i keep remembering scenes and things that happened and I am so unwell

“He didn’t mind one bit. After all, there weren’t any silent men around to abuse him, and he was no longer living in someone’s shadow.” -this feels so healing because there’s so many people thatve been hurt by Connie here and even if Y/n hasn’t had the best relationship with them she still wanted them with her it’s so-

ACKERMAN STUDIOS STOP- I KNOW ITS MOSTLY BECAUSE OF LEVI BUT ALSO MIKASA OH MY GOD

seeing who she became is so sad and terrible and once again brings me to my life is crazy and it’s wild how a couple things can change a person so drastically 😔

“and enough money to buy a new car if this one doesn’t pull through” -is so funny to me 💀

BUT ALSO ITS SAD BECAUSE REMEMBER HOW SHE WAS TELLING LEVI THAT BEING ABLE TO HOLD HER PHONE OVER WATER ISNT SOMETHING SHED DO UNLESS SHE KNEW SHE COULD BUY A NEW ONE AND HOW I WAS JUST SAYING THAT IT WAS SHOWING SHE STILL HELD THOSE IDEAS AND WAYS SHE LIVED BY WHEN SHE WAS POOR IN NEW YORK ITS SO-

thanks for reminding me about Mikasa and her unrequited love and how she left to travel the world again i really appreciate it 🥲

stop talking about everyone it’s making me so fucking sad-

great i’m crying again

FUCKING CONNIE THEY FOUND THAT BITCH 🎉🎉

unrelated but imagine how Armin would have felt seeing who Y/n became and i feel like he’d lowkey blame himself for part of it 😭

the ring 🥺

i’m fucking crying again oh my god-

it’s the way i keep needing to take breaks to cry and then immediately return to crying once i start reading again

i really like that she didn’t get remarried to someone for a while

THE FUCKING BOOKMARK

tay this isn’t okay you can’t keep doing this

STOP LEVI TRYING TO HELP EREN PLAN I CANT- IM SO MAD LEVI FUCKING KNEW AHHH

connie just went to prison and i’m so

i don’t even know how to feel or what to say

the complexity of people is so crazy and i feel like you capture that so well because the fact that Connie doesn’t beg but he begged to not be sent to prison speaks volumes about what happened and how much it truly affected him when he was a kid

unrelated and once again me trying to distract myself from being so sad but imagine Eren having flashbacks when he and Y/n are walking down the street and he’s on like higher alert because he doesn’t want what happened with Armin to happen with her anyways

am i dumb what do his clothes symbolize 🧍🏻‍♀️

fucking connie i hate that bitch but god damn if he didn’t develop

“I think I need to leave L. A. for a while” IS SHE GONNA GO BACK TO NEW YORK AND THE BAKERY WHERE IT ALL STARTED. FULL EVELYN HUGO CIRCLE???

Eren and I could never be friends because how can you not wrap your head around the sweet tea obsession when what you’re drinking is leaf flavored 😒

off topic but why the south. I mean i guess because of Reiner’s influence but why the south i live down there and hate it it’s so hot and gross 😭

at this point I know Eren is gonna be her end game and I think that’s so meaningful because like…. look at how they started. not the best. straight up ended the relationship with the love of her life without remorse but NOW HE DOES SORTA FEEL REMORSE AND HE BONDED WITH ARMIN BUT NOW ARMINS DEAD AND THATS LIKE ANOTHER LAYER OF EMOTIONAL BONDING THEY HAVE

anyways Eren’s development is also wonderful and fantastically done well written Tay

fun fact i’ve never had peach cobbler because i’m scared of trying new foods and i’ve never had peaches before 👍🏼

they’re so cute🥺

also i LOVEEEE that you’re showing her healing journey and didn’t just end her telling her daughter with Connie being locked up because SO MANY BOOKS AND FICS DO THAT AND IT MAKES ME SO UPSET

anyways

oh my god is he gonna propose (i’m at the part where they need to go to the store for food)

her breaking down because of Eren being gone so long oh my god

i love when writers (you) show development like this but OH MY GOD IT MAKES ME SO SAD

THE STRAWBERRY CHICKEN SALAD 😭😭😭

off topic but that sounds genuinely disgusting have you actually had that Tay and is it good because it sounds repulsing. strawberries and chicken???? what???? ew???

(perhaps a bias because i don’t actually like strawberries 💀)

“Love, in its truest and purest form, doesn’t simply die.”

HE HAD THE PEN ONCE AGAIN AND HE WAS DETERMINED TO WRITE THIS NEW FAIRY TALE PROPERLY ‼️

wait the fact that Eren is incorporating everyone she’s ever loved romantically in their life one way or another is so important to me for SO MANY REASONS OH MY GOD

first it shows that he is also honoring them because he was close with them, even if they were considered “competition” at some point or they hurt him either directly or indirectly

second it shows that he’s secure in their relationship because (and i could’ve totally made this up) BEFORE he was kind of a red flag 💀 like i remember him getting jealous super easily. plus like he literally broke up her and Armin’s marriage… BUT HIM NOW INVOLVING EVERYONE THEYVE CARED ABOUT IN THEIR LIFE SHOWS THAT HES GAINING SECURITY IN HOW HE FEELS AND THAT HE TRUSTS AND LOVES Y/N!!

OH MY GOD MIKASA!!!

unrelated once again but imagine how sad she is 😭 like damn not only did she not get the love of her life (she’s likely already over it but there’s still that sense of feeling there ykwim? like regret almost? like if she had shot her shot then maybe she could be in eren’s spot or something?? but also like it hurt to love you once but it felt amazing at the same time?? idk what i’m trying to say 🚶🏻‍♀️) but also her cousin is dead like dammit

AND YOU SAID IT FOR THE VERY LAST TIME ‼️‼️

ngl the smut once again caught me off guard 💀 ITS NOT BAD I JUST WASNT EXPECTING IT IT THREW ME OFF

WHICH STARTED WITH YOUR OLD FRIEND, IN A TINY BAKERY IN NEW YORK

bye i’m so done i’ve cried enough

(jk i’m reading the epilogue rn)

FIVE HUSBANDS

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

♡ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eren, armin, connie, jean, levi, & reiner x celebrity reader

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Plans, promises, & proposals have begun. Your next marriage comes about in an unexpected way. The celebrities of Los Angeles are hoping for peace, but a war for peace has never been an easy fight, and this particular battle will leave you forever changed. In the end, your one true love will always win.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI || DARK CONTENT — fem reader, modern/celebrity au, smut, heavy angst, marriage, divorce, pregnancy, cheating, grief, violence & blood, gun mentions, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of false imprisonment, drinking, toxic relationship, manipulation, stalking, murder talk, illness, hospitalization, & major character death. Some of the warnings listed here don’t necessarily apply to this part, but the series as a whole.

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 25k

♡ — 𝐀/𝐍: Hi everyone! I can’t believe this series is finally ending. Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and/or left me a message in my inbox. It has meant the world to me. I hope you all have enjoyed spending time with my version of the aot characters and in their crazy world. A big thank you to @spicerackofblorbos for helping me plot the finale. I couldn’t have written an ending I’m proud of without you. I had to post the epilogue separately, so don’t forget to click the link at the bottom of this post once you’re done reading this chapter.

I hope you all enjoy the final part, and please let me know what you think in the comments or in my inbox. Thanks for the support!

— CANADA —

Connie Springer was utterly sick of the entertainment news channels.

He had always despised it — gossipy brats who thought they contributed to society by rambling on and on about celebrities, secretly wishing that they could be one themselves.

Ever since he left Los Angeles that following morning after shooting Eren and that blonde-haired guy, he had done nothing but sit. 

Sit and watch the news. 

Sit on the couch and drink until the bottom of his beer bottles were dry, or until there wasn’t a single drop of golden brown liquid within his whiskey glass. 

His current place of residence was far from extraordinary. It disgusted him. Looked like his childhood home. It was a two-level shack where everything was old, brown, and smelled of dust.

But it was the perfect place to hide from the world. 

His other, more extravagant homes spread out across several different countries would have been too obvious, as right now, he needed to blend in, not stand out.

Even after he poured money into the hands of the Los Angeles police department and justice system, he couldn’t return home just yet.

He might not go to prison for murder — and attempted murder — but his reputation was still hanging on by a thread.

The only choice he had was to give everyone time. Time to move on and worry about the next Hollywood scandal.

Eren Yeager’s unplanned survival made everything tricky. 

He could yap to the cameras and tell everyone that Connie shot him. Even if no one believed the rockstar, his crazy fan girls would certainly take Eren’s side, and CS Records wouldn’t see another dollar from them. 

It also made it more difficult to blame you, which was the only benefit to having let you live that night.

Connie paced around the tiny living room of the tasteless property he had purchased just for situations like this, thinking . . . thinking . . . and thinking.

What could he do with Eren now?

Go back and finish the job, killing him completely? Force him into making music again?

No. That wouldn’t work. No amount of torture would work on a man who stared death in the face and lived.

Plus, fans would undoubtedly be paying attention to the warning signs now.

Thousands of videos with millions of views had gone viral on YouTube and other social media platforms detailing great conspiracy theories about CS Records. They took apart Eren’s lyrics, searching for hidden signs. Zoomed in on his photos to point out bruises that weren’t covered up well — Connie saw to it that the hired makeup artist at the time was now rotting in a refrigerator box on the side of the road — and, in short, everyone debated about what was true and what was a lie. 

Connie would have to clear his name soon. 

He’d have to work hard to save his reputation, if that was possible.

Then there was you. The bitch he wished he shot in the head that night.

He saw every clip of you visiting Eren at the hospital. Witnessed the footage of you leaving the police station, and he even laughed a bit at the Carrie White jokes made in reference to your blood-covered clothes. He saw the broadcasts detailing your residence with Levi Ackerman, then your reunited association with Reiner. 

He saw everything, and then he took everything.

Not only did he drain you completely dry of all of your money down to the last penny, but he owned every song you ever created. He owned everything associated with you.

And if he didn’t own it, he worked closely with the people who did and ensured that you wouldn’t see another dollar from any project. 

Your songs. Your movies. Your commercials. Your perfumes. Your Halloween costumes. Anything. Everything. 

It all belonged to him. 

You had nothing.

You were nothing.

The public notice of your divorce brought great joy and pain. He wanted nothing to do with you, the thought of you made him fucking sick, but after everything you put him through, who did you think you were to divorce him? He was the one who was supposed to make that first move. 

And to pour money into the lap of some divorce court to reduce a six-month process into one that could be handled in a few short weeks? It must have been Levi’s money. Were you in that much of a hurry to leave him? After everything you did to make him miserable? 

One night, Connie followed his usual routine: sitting on the couch with any sort of liquid substance that would burn his throat and numb his pain while turning on the entertainment news station. What he saw made his eyes widen.

The heat that ran through his veins wasn’t from any sort of alcohol. Not at all.

It, instead, was from boiling anger.

The television screen displayed both you and Levi Ackerman. You stood by his side, your manicured hand resting on his shoulder. You wore an engagement ring — an expensive silver piece of gemstone worth a fortune, smiling softly like an idiot as Levi spoke into the invasive microphones right in his face. 

“Y/N and I wanted to go public with the news of our engagement as soon as possible. There has been plenty of speculation and rumors about our relationship . . . our history together . . . and the only thing we can say for certain is that the two of us are madly in love, and we have been for a long time now.” Levi stared right into the camera. “Together, we’ve mourned the loss of our baby. It was made to seem as if Connie Springer was the father, but that wasn’t true. I was. But the only thing we can do now is move forward, let go of the past, and start fresh. And one day, the two of us will try again, and have a proper shot at becoming a family. We are-” 

The television screen went black as Connie grabbed the remote and turned it off. 

But he didn’t stop there. 

He threw the empty glass in his hand at the wall next to the TV, smashing the cup into a mess of shards.

The baby. It was Levi’s. Connie knew it wasn’t his — your doctor indirectly told him that — but now, he knew which lover’s child you tried to trick him with. 

Levi Ackerman.

And now, he had the audacity . . . the nerve . . . the guts . . . to marry you.

Connie wanted to kill him. 

He wanted to shoot him over and over again until the man had more bullets inside of him than blood. 

But he couldn’t. He had already gone too far by killing Armin and shooting Eren. And Levi wasn’t like those two. He wouldn’t be walking down the street holding a slushie. 

He’d be holding a gun. 

Someone like him wouldn’t be easy to kill.

But Connie couldn’t let any of this slide, either. 

An hour had passed. During that time, Connie paced around the living room, stepping on the sharp pieces of glass, which crunched and crackled under the weight of his shoes.

He then went upstairs, walked into the tiny, plain, and dark bedroom, and opened a plastic bag that he grabbed from the top shelf in the reach-in closet, pulling out your old phone to search for Levi’s number before texting him from his new one.

CONNIE: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

A few minutes later, Levi responded.

LEVI: I’m marrying your ex-wife. What about you?

Quickly, a second message from him appeared on Connie’s screen.

LEVI: Where are you, Connie?

CONNIE:Why would I tell you that?

LEVI: Why wouldn’t you? You plan on coming back to LA eventually, right? Who else would run your shitty company? We’ll see each other again one way or another. 

We should meet in person. 

Connie scoffed a bit as he started to angrily type.

CONNIE: You think I’m stupid enough to agree to that? You’re trying to set me up.

LEVI: Why would I set you up?

I witnessed most of the things you’ve done to other people and kept my mouth shut. We’d both go down together.

I only went on television like that because I knew it would make you reach out to me. I want to make a deal.

I’ll give you all the evidence I have against you. Every bit of it. I’ll even help you clear your name. 

You just have to promise to leave me and Y/N alone. Eren, Jean, and the others as well.

CONNIE: No

LEVI: Don’t you want to come back to LA? Go back to running CS Records? I’m guessing you’re staying in some sort of cheap hideout right now. You own tons of nice homes that you could come back to, and all you have to do is leave us alone.

If I wanted to kill you or get you locked up, I would’ve done it a long time ago, back when you first shot Erwin.

When you think about it, I’m the one who has to put all my faith in you. You could get the evidence from me and then kill any of us afterward. I’m trusting you not to do that, technically.

CONNIE: You really are trying to exchange evidence for peace?

LEVI: Yes.

It was a tempting offer. Connie didn’t know what kind of evidence he had, and while he could have made the evidence disappear from any police station should Levi ever decide to turn it in, the disgraced manager could decide to go public with it instead.

Ruining his reputation could ruin his business.

And with the latest chaos his name had been dragged through, he couldn’t afford to risk it.

It was a fine deal. 

Connie didn’t want you as an artist anymore. He clearly didn’t mind losing Eldian Devils as a band, considering he tried to murder Eren. Plus, he didn’t care that much about everyone else.

Best of all, he’d get his hands on that sweet evidence, and be able to destroy it.

He believed the idea that Levi would let him continue to run his company. After all, the man had kept Connie’s secrets for years now. He could continue to do so.

Considering Levi had slapped a ring on your finger, there wasn’t any reason for Levi to want to target Connie any longer for keeping you imprisoned. You were his now. Levi won.

After taking all of this into consideration, his hand rubbing his jaw as he sat on the edge of the disgustingly small, queen-sized bed, Connie texted Levi back.

CONNIE: Deal. I’ll head back to LA in a few weeks after this shit cools down.

—

— LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA — 

Levi’s plan was rather odd. 

The man wanted to trick Connie into confessing what he had done live on camera, where others could witness it, and no amount of money could erase such undeniable evidence.

However, there were a few things about his plan that still left you puzzled, but your former manager would simply dodge the questions.

“Why won’t you just release the evidence you’ve been collecting this entire time to the public? Why do you need a live confession from him?” You asked one day, leaning on his kitchen island as he sliced into a loaf of fresh bread. 

“I just do. What I have might not be enough.” He replied plainly. “Can you pass me the butter?”

The next day, as you followed him around his backyard, watching him pull weeds with his gloved hand, you questioned, “I understand us going on live television and telling everyone we were getting married and that the baby was yours would piss Connie off enough to make him reach out, but now that he has, why are we actually getting married? Don’t get me wrong, I know we love each other, but I imagined a more romantic scenario-”

“When all of this is over, I’ll make sure you have a proper wedding with a proper ceremony, I promise.” Levi wiped his sweaty forehead off on his arm.

You smiled at the thought of marrying him, temporarily forgetting that, yet again, he managed to avoid answering anything. 

So, for now, you pacified your curiosity by assuming that, maybe, you just needed to trust him, and together, you signed those marriage contracts with the promise of building something greater someday.

—

Although you had often spent your days hanging out with Levi at his house, your current residence was still with Reiner.

Until today, at least.

Holding a cardboard box with the few items you owned  — only after refusing Reiner’s constant offers to let him buy you anything — you made your way towards his front door, shoes clicking against the ground, filling the silence.

Reiner stood there, faking a smile, but those gorgeous hazel eyes of his couldn’t hide his sadness. Even as a professional actor, he wasn’t so gifted when it came to disguising heartbreak. 

Running his hand over his subtle facial hair, he sighed as you approached him.

“So this is it, huh?”

“Looks like it,” you smiled kindly. “Thank you for everything, Reiner. And not just for letting me stay here, but for always being there for me. Our marriage didn’t last very long, but . . . you were a great husband.”

Reiner glanced down at his boots. The sunlight peeking in through the little windows beside his front door only made his pretty eyes seem brighter, and it emphasized the despair poorly hidden within his gaze.

“He’s a smart man. Marrying you really did get Connie’s attention, I guess. Though I don’t get why it couldn’t have just been a fake announcement,” Reiner loosely folded his arms.

“You’re forgetting that we love each other too,” you said.

Reiner nodded slowly, and after giving a short sigh, he unlocked the front door, and, like the gentleman that he was, took the box from you and carried it to Levi’s car.

You followed him, eyes squinting from the beaming sunlight. 

But, even so, you caught a glimpse of a small FOR SALE sign in Reiner’s front yard.

The southern-hearted man placed your box in the backseat. When he turned to face you, you asked, “Are you selling your house? Why?” With a shrug, Reiner started to speak. “After everything that’s happened, I can’t view this industry the way that I used to. Being an actor isn’t worth all the trouble, so I’m going back home, back to Tennessee. Back to my family. I would have liked to take you with me, but I’ll get over it, ‘s long as you’re happy.”

“I understand.” Although you were happy to know he’d be somewhere safe and would get to be a kind, ordinary man and live in peace, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad knowing that Reiner was leaving for good. “I’ll miss you.” 

You were optimistic that Levi’s plan would finally put Connie behind bars. Then, Reiner and his family would all be able to move back to Tennessee and live safe, happy lives. Their family home, passed down from generation to generation, could never be returned after the silent men burned it down, but at least they would have each other and could start anew. 

“I’ll miss you too.  I’m gonna stop by every now and then to check up on you, okay?” Reiner grinned softly, “But I know you’ll be alright. We both will.”

You wrapped your arms around Reiner’s waist, resting your head against his chest. His muscular arms hugged you back. It was a warm embrace, like always. One you would certainly miss. There was no such comfort quite like Reiner’s hugs.

Although your time together was brief, it was wonderful. He was a loving husband who introduced you to unconditional happiness. Someone who forgave you for your mistakes and did everything he could to protect you. In your time of need, he didn’t hesitate to help you, even if your existence in his life had cost him nothing but pain and grief.

Your love story had ended, but loving him was one of the greatest decisions you ever made.

Levi’s footsteps could be heard as he made his way towards his car. He had to take a private business call while you gathered your belongings, and now, it seemed as if he was ready to leave and take you back to his place for the third, and hopefully, the final time.

“Are you ready?” Levi asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. 

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling away from Reiner. “I just had to hug him goodbye. He’s leaving Los Angeles for good.”

“You are?” Levi raised his brows a bit. “Are you going back to Tennessee?”

“I am,” with a pause, Reiner sighed yet again. “Big decision, but I think it’s the right move.”

“I see. Well, I wish you nothing but luck.” 

Together, you and Levi started to get into his vehicle. 

Before getting into the passenger seat, you gave Reiner one last gaze, not knowing when you’d ever look into his eyes again, and you said, “Bye, Reiner.”

“Goodbye.”

Once you were both buckled in, Levi started to pull out of Reiner’s driveway. The blonde-haired man gave Levi a nod, one that wordlessly communicated: Congratulations, Levi. You’ve won.

—

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky that very next day. How nice it was — feeling sunlight on your skin. The unusual chilly weather had finally started to disappear, and today, you wore a pair of sunglasses as you arrived at the hospital, a cold water bottle in your hand.

Truth be told, you wanted to stay outdoors as long as possible.

Ever since Connie locked you in your own bedroom as his form of punishment, you cherished every moment spent outside. It was thanks to him that you struggled with a Vitamin D deficiency, amongst other things.

“Do you like the beach, Levi?” You asked, glancing at the man beside you as you both stepped into the lobby.

“The ocean can be calming, but I hate sand. It gets everywhere and cleaning it up is a pain in the ass. Why?” 

“I was just wondering,” you said.

It was a lie, one that Levi saw through with little effort. 

“We can go to the beach next week.”

The smile that appeared on your face would make every dull moment of trying to shake off sand worth it.

You and Levi found yourselves at the hospital today to help Eren out after getting discharged. Truth be told, your presence wasn’t needed as Eren had his entire family to aid him, along with a team of bodyguards and additional staff at home to tend to his every need.

Even so, he wanted to see you. 

The rockstar stood in front of the nurse’s station, jotting down what looked like his signature. If it wasn’t for the excited grins on the faces of the three, young medical staff members, you would have naturally assumed that he was signing some form of paperwork, but as he handed the pen back to one of the ladies and they all squealed, it was clear that he was giving them autographs.

At least they had the decency to wait until he was healed before bombarding him with fan requests. You thought about that one nurse who asked you for a picture while you were visiting Eren, never considering that even though you were a celebrity, perhaps, you wanted a bit of privacy to grieve. 

That frustrating memory did make you wonder about something, and as you and Levi approached Eren and exchanged greetings, you tilted your head a bit and asked, “I know this might be bad timing, and I’m not sure if you’ve thought about it, but what are you planning on doing career-wise?”

Eren looked down at his three-fingered right hand. 

“I know there are workarounds to playing the guitar, and there are some cool-ass legends who had some missing fingers too, but I think I’m done with music. Touring . . . awards shows . . . concerts . . . screw it all.”

It was a conversation he already had with Jean earlier in the week. Eren’s departure would end Eldian Devils, as there was no band without him. No one could replace such a reputable band leader. 

Even so, Jean understood. He and Eren hugged it out as well, shockingly.

Neither one of them could remember the last time they embraced each other.

“I’m sorry. Must’ve been a hard decision,” Levi said.

“Nope,” Eren shook his head, smiling softly. “No one ever cared about my music anyway, just my face. And they can go to hell.”

“Wait, but what about your contracts?” Frowning, you added, “Are you going to hire a lawyer or something? You’d never win.”

Eren rested his elbow on the top of the counter. “Aren’t you two working on a plan to get Connie locked up? I’m hoping CS Records goes down with him, and I’ll be free from all of his stupid contracts.”

You looked at Levi with a face of uncertainty.

After all, his plan had a lot of holes — left you with questions he refused to answer. Missing pieces of a puzzle. 

Reiner and his family were moving back to Tennessee, hoping to live safe lives. And, now, Eren was determined to leave the company, both of them resting their futures on the promise that you and Levi were going to take care of Connie for good.

However, Levi didn’t share your worried expression. Instead, he looked at Eren with confidence, and said, “You’re right. Don’t worry about your contracts. Just worry about recovering.”

“So, what will you do now, then?” You asked.

Eren shrugged. “Whatever I want, I guess. What about you two?”

His tone was heavy, coated with jealousy that the poor man tried to hide, but failed miserably at doing so.

When he had heard about your marriage to Levi, all in the name of both love and luring out Connie, he couldn’t help but mourn what he had lost, and what Levi had won.

And when you looked at Levi with a loving, shy smile, Eren felt his heart snap into pieces. 

“I think that I’ll finally do what I’ve always secretly wanted to do, and write my play,” you said. 

Eren softly smiled at you. Then, suddenly, Eren’s eyes darted over to Levi, and his grin faded into a serious, gentle frown.

“Levi? Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah.” 

The two of them stepped off into a nearby, empty waiting room that smelt of stale coffee. The brown walls, cushioned chairs with wooden arms, and the flat screen television hanging on the wall displaying old reruns of Deal or No Deal were all drastically different compared to the sterile, white, and cold interior of the rest of the hospital.

When Eren sat down in one of the chairs, Levi figured that him sitting meant one of two things: he was still recovering and couldn’t continue to stand any longer, or this was going to be a long discussion. 

Either way, Levi sat in the seat positioned diagonally from him and faced his former client. 

“What is it?” Levi asked, furrowing his brows with worry.

After being bombarded with world-shattering news back to back over the last several months, he had grown to always feel anxious whenever anyone wanted to share something with him.

Eren couldn’t tell just how much his ordinary actions were making the other man panic inside. 

“Y/N . . . she doesn’t know your real plan, does she? She just thinks you’re trying to get Connie thrown in prison, nothing more?”

Levi was silent for a moment, lost in thought. He unintentionally scanned Eren’s black jeans, long-sleeved grey shirt, and low, messy manbun.

Eventually, his eyes darted down to the floor, and he sighed softly.

“Yeah.” Levi paused. He hadn’t discussed anything about his plan with Eren, but either way, he was grateful that he kept his mouth shut around you. “Thanks for playing along, but how’d you piece it together?”

“I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Eren smiled, but it faded away as quickly as it had come.

“Does it bother you? Knowing what I’m planning?” Levi blinked at Eren.

And Eren was much conflicted.

One second, he despised Connie, wanting him to burn in hell for murdering someone as innocent as Armin and for trying to kill him, and getting others to abuse him long before then. 

But, the next second, he thought about the boy he had grown up with, the silly kid who once never dreamt of hurting anyone. 

Connie was always smiling — always laughing. The funny one in the group of four idiots, he was. 

Eren had met the amusing kid in Kindergarten — he later met Jean in first grade and Marco in second grade — and Connie was Eren’s very first friend. 

—

On Eren’s very first day of elementary school, the small five-year-old held on to his mom’s hand as she walked him to the intimidating, terrifying school entrance. The bee and butterfly stickers on the door certainly helped other kids feel welcome, but not Eren. He was stung by a bee the week prior. The school must have known that and was out to get him. Bees were waiting for him in his teacher’s classroom. He was certain of it.

Eventually, his mom halted her footsteps, pulling her son to the side as other kids walked through the door after saying goodbye to their parents.

Kneeling, Carla smiled lovingly at her boy. 

“Okay, this is as far as I can go, Eren. Do you remember your teacher’s name? And her room number?”

“Uh huh,” the brown-haired kid nodded, hands clenching the straps of his red backpack. “Ms. Green, and room two-one-five!”

“Good,” Carla’s grin widened as she reached forward and straightened out her son’s dinosaur shirt. “When the teacher says it’s snack time, there’s goldfish in your backpack.”

“Okay, momma!” Eren could imagine the multi-colored cheddar goldfish already. 

“Here’s your lunch,” Carla said, giving him a small box with a cartoony T-rex on the front of it. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart.”

“I’m not scared!” He lied.

Carla laughed a bit, and then, she hugged her boy goodbye and sent him on his way. 

He remembered where his classroom was from meet-the-teacher night, and once he arrived, the kind, curly-haired educator helped him find a seat. 

Luckily, there were no bees around, and school seemed easy-peasy. 

About ten minutes later, other students started to fill the colorful, animal-themed classroom as well. 

Those other students were chatting and playing with one another as they waited for school to start, showing each other their backpacks and whatnot and making new friends immediately. 

Should he approach them? Show them his backpack, or his cool lunchbox? What if they thought it was silly? 

All the other kindergarteners seemed to naturally gravitate towards each other. Already, he was feeling left out and lonely. 

It was worse than thinking his classroom was going to be filled with bees.

Suddenly, a small finger poked his shoulder three times. 

“Can I sit here?”

Eren turned his head to see a teary-eyed, slightly smaller boy who wore a shirt with three triceratops on it. 

“Sure! You like dinosaurs!” Eren beamed. 

The other kid wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, sniffling softly as he sat down next to Eren.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared?” Eren tilted his head a little bit, and the other kid nodded.

“I miss my mom,” he mumbled.

Connie’s dismissal with his own mom wasn’t nearly as graceful as Eren’s was. He was kicking and screaming, but the five-year-old was, unfortunately, forced out of his car. He had calmed down a bit, but that’s when the crying started. 

Seeing everyone else quickly make friends only made the tears fall even faster, so he decided to approach the other kid in class who was also wearing a dinosaur shirt.

“I miss my momma too, but don’t be scared. We’re friends now, ‘cause we both like dinosaurs.”

Eren grabbed the building blocks in the center of the table, feeling happy that he now had someone to play with, and because he hoped that it would help the other boy feel better.

“Wanna play with me?”

The other kid nodded. As Connie reached for two building blocks, one red, and one green, the kind teacher walked by, caringly rubbed Connie’s back, and handed him a tissue for his runny nose. 

In actuality, everyone had assigned seats, but she wouldn’t dare separate two students who were able to comfort each other, especially when they weren’t causing any sort of trouble yet.

As the two boys played together, Connie coming out of his shell rather quickly, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Eren. What’s your name?”

“I’m Connie.” 

“Do you wanna keep being friends?” Eren asked, worried that the boy might leave his table after cheering up. 

“Uh huh,” with a smile, Connie said, “we’re gonna be friends forever, promise?”

“Yeah, I promise!”

And, after sealing their promise by twisting their pinkies around each other, the two boys continued to enjoy each other’s company until class officially started.

—

“Eren?” Levi leaned forward a bit. 

He had asked the other man if he was bothered by his secret plan, but Eren failed to answer.

“Huh?” Eren mumbled, snapping out of his daydream. “My bad. Uh . . . it doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe, so what I think doesn’t matter.”

“But I still want to know how you feel.”

“Why won’t you tell Y/N what you plan on doing?” Eren dodged the question. “Are you worried about how she’ll feel? I’m sure she’d support it. He killed someone she loved.”

“That’s why I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to be any more involved than she already is. If she finds out the truth, she might want to help, and I can’t let her come with me.” Levi looked away from Eren. He noticed how he avoided his earlier question but decided not to press further. “But, anyway, just don’t tell anyone. Let Y/N think that all of this is just about getting Connie to confess, and exposing him to the public so prosecutors will have no choice but to toss his ass in prison.”

“Okay.” 

Levi started to get out of his seat, but then, Eren spoke up again. “I know you’re already married, but give her a proper wedding later on, okay?”

Eren’s emerald eyes were glistening with such intense pain and sadness, that Levi could no longer make eye contact with him.

“I’m planning it already,” Levi paused. “It’s kinda stupid since we’re already legally married, but I’m going to do it anyway. I just don’t want our marriage to be nothing more than a way to lure Connie out.”

Levi went on to describe the details he had imagined, prompted by your request for a romantic scenario. 

Eren nodded sadly, heartbroken.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No, just jealous as hell, that’s all.” Eren pushed himself out of his seat. “Anyway, let’s leave. I’m sick of this hospital. Smells like peas and shit in here, you know what I mean?”

“Peas, shit, and Clorox wipes.”

“Oh,” Eren said. “Thanks for mentioning Clorox wipes. I know what wedding or birthday gift to get you now.”

Levi scoffed lightly with a grin, getting out of his seat. 

“Don’t you dare. I’ve gotten enough cleaning supplies from you.”

It was Eren’s go-to gift for every event dedicated to celebrating Levi. 

“Fine,” Eren frowned. 

If he couldn’t get cleaning supplies, then he’d get appliances. It was his second go-to gift. 

He’d search for a brand new, expensive, eight-burner stove later on. Possibly after mourning losing the love of his life to another man.

—

As the sun fell, darkening the sky that very next day, Eren’s mansion was filled with music, warm food, and celebration.

This particular party was quite different from the ones Eren had thrown in the past. Technically, this party was thrown for him by his family, and the gathering was more family-friendly than the sin-filled nights that often took place whenever lots of people were in Eren’s home.

Carrying a tray of food, you walked into Eren’s kitchen where he was leaning against his kitchen island, chatting with a popular movie star, a singer, and a few relatives.

A short distance away, you spotted Jean talking to an unfamiliar woman.

Darting your eyes back in Eren’s direction, a beautiful smile appeared on his face upon seeing you.

He excused himself, sat his cup down on the counter, and approached you.

 Taking the tray out of your hands and sitting it down on a nearby counter, he said, “Hey, you made it. Thanks for showing up.”

“Of course,” you grinned. “And guess what? I cooked this all by myself.”

“Really?” Eren raised his eyebrows in complete surprise. “You’re learning how to cook?”

“Yep. Levi’s teaching me. I made steak . . . fajita . . . quesadillas . . . or something. I don’t know, but it’s good, trust me.”

Eren couldn’t help but lean down and kiss your cheek in the most friendly way possible. Sorry, but you were just too cute.

He would, perhaps, spend a lifetime trying to get over you.

“Who’s that girl Jean’s talking to? She’s pretty,” Eren turned around searching in the general direction you pointed out discreetly by nodding your head.

“Oh,” Eren said once he spotted the grinning pair of chatty partygoers. “That’s Ava. She’s a pianist.”

“Hm. She’s making Jean blush. He seems happy. I’m glad he’s moving on.” Eren faced you again as you spoke. “Anyway, I’m so proud of you, ‘Ren. Your recovery has been amazing.”

“Thank you,” Eren paused. “So has yours. Not just from your illness, but you’ve been happier lately. I can tell.” 

You smiled once again, god — it was devastatingly beautiful. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, Y/N,” Eren reached out, grabbing ahold of your hand, and gently tracing his thumb across your skin. “I mean it. And I’ll be as happy as you are one day.”

Looking into Eren’s gorgeous eyes, you softly said, “I know you will be. And I can’t wait to see it someday.”

This time, you were the one to peck his cheek. Then, you both let go of each other’s hands, and you walked away from him.

—

Sunshine, ocean water, and warm sand filled your early afternoon a week later.

The gentle, crashing waves were a sight to see. On your hands and knees, you collected tiny sea shells along the shoreline for both you and Levi to keep. 

As you did so, you couldn’t help but think about your childhood days, on your hands and knees, digging through dirt and grass for cool rocks and interesting bugs with Armin. 

Dragging your thumb across a gorgeous white shell, attempting to remove some of the wet sand, you mumbled, “You would’ve loved this, Armin.”

“Hm?”

Levi stared down at you through his dark sunglasses. He was standing in the water, letting the waves crash around his ankles.

“Talking to myself,” you replied, smiling sadly. 

Then, you shook off the grieving thoughts, letting a real, happy smile grace your face this time as you searched around for more shells. 

Suddenly, you heard Levi’s phone click as he snapped a picture of you. 

It had become his latest hobby — photographing you at every opportunity, and not bothering to tell you beforehand.

If anyone scrolled through his photo album, they would see pictures of gorgeous sunrises and animals he spotted in his backyard garden, but mainly, they would see captured art of you learning how to cook — smiling in your little apron as you successfully made your first California sushi roll, or you in the middle of a fancy dinner, mid wine sip. 

There was also a picture of you reading a book on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. 

Or you hunched over Levi’s desk, working on your play. Watering plants. Putting on lipgloss. Laughing at a silly movie. Yawning. 

Whenever he had the chance, he took your picture, capturing every little, happy moment and potential memory.

“You’re the definition of a spoiled rich dude,” you said with a teasing tone. “No way would I hold my phone over a body of water unless I knew I could easily buy another.”

“You can,” Levi took another photo of you as he spoke. “We’re married, remember? What’s mine is yours. That includes money.” 

You couldn’t help but smile — and Levi snapped yet another photo at the sight of it, of course. 

“Hey, how about you take a photo with me, for a change?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sun.

Levi lowered his phone. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Okay.”

You gave a celebratory grin as he walked over, kneeling in the sand beside you. Levi gave the softest grin, and while your own smile was brighter, you were both equally just as happy. 

It had been a long time since you had known joy quite like this, and Levi was certain that he had never known such happiness before. 

—

After leaving the beach, you and Levi returned home to shower and change clothes before heading out for your dinner reservations.

It was a lovely restaurant, one that was classy enough for you to not have to worry about prying eyes, as you were surrounded by fellow celebrities and wealthy citizens who paid you both no mind.

After dining on gourmet meals and sipping on fruity wine, you and Levi returned home.

As your back hit the bed, a giggle escaped from between your lips, which spread into a cheeky grin.

“Leviii,” you whined, reaching up and grabbing at nothing in particular, “Take your damn clothes off.”

Levi shrugged off his dark blue blazer. “I think you might’ve had too much wine.”

Tipsy or not, the moonlight casting through the big master bedroom window had illuminated Levi’s face enough for you to see his cheeks were a faint shade of pink.

“Think you might’ve had too much wine too,” you giggled yet again. 

Levi mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out, and then, he kissed you deeply. Sloppily, despite his clean nature. 

While his kisses to your lips and skin might have been rough, he removed your clothing gently, as if unwrapping a fragile present.

He ran two of his fingers from your lips, across your heart, in between your chest, down your stomach, and finally, made contact with your aching clit, rubbing gentle circles around your button.

He loved the look on your pretty face — eyelids fluttering, mouth slightly agape as sweet moans slipped out from between your wine-stained lips, which were the tiniest bit swollen from kissing.

When Levi suddenly swirled his tongue around your nipple, before sucking on it, your moans grew louder — he was in love with the sound of it. 

Your hands made their way to his hair, fingers tangled in his soft black strands. 

“Levi,” you whined. The call of his name was followed by incomprehensible blabber, which was only interrupted by sudden, loud moans as he plunged two fingers into your awaiting hole.

Soon, you would learn that his quick fingering was just the preview, as after Levi made you soak his fingers with your cum, he would then thrust into you with his hard cock. 

His rhythm — the way he hooked his hands under your knees and pinned your legs, fucking you in such a method that resulted in you alternating between gripping the thick, soft, pale cerulean sheets, and digging your nails into his back, decorating his skin with bright red scratches.

“I don’t think we were made to just love each other,” Levi’s forehead was pressed against yours as he spoke lowly. “I’m starting to think we were made to fuck each other too. You’re taking me so well.”

You shut your eyes, turning your head to the side as skin smacked against skin, legs trembling as yet another orgasm was approaching. 

“You’re not getting shy on me, are you? Look at me.” Levi moved his hand away from your leg and gripped your jaw, making you face him. “Look at me while you cum. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you hummed obediently, tears falling from your eyes from complete and utter pleasure, and it wasn’t long before you were gushing all over Levi’s cock. 

Feeling your hole clench around him is what drove him to his own orgasm, and he came inside of you, your pussy milking his cock for all it was worth.

As he finished cumming, he kissed you yet again. 

“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly against your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look into the eyes of the one person he’d do anything to protect.

“I love you too.”

—

A few days later, after having breakfast with you — your overcooked eggs got stuck to the pan, and Levi had to take over and make omelets, which was fine — you excitedly prepped the guest room for two special visitors while Levi left to go pick them up.

The irritated man waited patiently for the plane to land in the big, open area deprived of any people aside from him, his four bodyguards, and a few people who worked for the private jet company.

Soon enough, two people stepped through the jet door, one at a time.

“Levi! I missed you!” Hange shouted, dramatically pressing their hand against their head. “We were on that jet for hours!”

They practically jumped off of the steps, stretching a bit before running up to Levi and hugging him tightly. “I’ve been so worried about you, oh my goodness.”

“You’re squeezing me.”

“I know,” Hange said, not bothering to release the grip they had on him. “It’s called a hug. Don’t be a jerk.”

Eventually, the lingering, blonde-haired man made his way out of the jet, taking his time in thanking the staff members for the transportation and for carrying his and Hange’s luggage. 

Erwin approached Levi and Hange with a soft grin. 

“It’s good to see you, Levi,” he said. 

Eventually, Hange released him, and Erwin was able to hug him as well, normally. 

“You’re both late. What took so long?”

“I dunno. Slow jet, maybe?” Hange shrugged.

“It’s my jet, Hange. It isn’t slow.” Levi briefly glanced at the staff members who loaded their luggage into his truck. “But anyway, it’s good to see you. Thanks for coming. I know it isn’t safe, but I needed some help, and I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Hey,” Erwin reached out, touching Levi’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t have come if we cared about danger.”

Levi told his two best friends his plan beforehand, but even so, he needed to make sure that they understood just how important their role was. 

“You understand what needs to happen, right?” Levi darted his eyes between their faces. 

“You’ll trick Connie into confessing while Erwin and I stream it live for the world to see,” Hange said. 

“It’ll be evidence no one can fully erase,” Erwin added.

“Then we cut the cameras off, and . . .” Hange didn’t dare to say the next part aloud, but they continued to speak lightheartedly. “And hope to god you’re rich enough to avoid prison and keep us from going down with you, that’s all!”

“That’s right,” Levi mumbled. 

He understood Hange’s enthusiasm. After all, Connie tried to murder Erwin. Even so, there was nothing easy or fun about what the three of them had planned, no matter how cruel Connie was.

As they headed back to Levi’s home, they discussed the finer details of what would take place tomorrow night, during which Connie Springer would walk into his own assassination. 

—

— YEARS AGO, CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON —

“After you hurt someone, how do you feel, Connie?”

The older, brown-haired woman crossed her legs, her knee-length skirt shifting a bit. “Do you feel a sense of gratification, or do you feel dread? Or regret, maybe?”

The chains around Connie Springer’s wrists rattled as he played with the clicky fidget cube in his scarred hands, hands that were covered in cuts and bruises from his latest fight with a fellow inmate in the cafeteria. 

A fight that was so brutal, it resulted in him being tased. 

Of course, the correctional officers could have simply pulled him off of the other guy. He was pounding an adult man’s face in, but even so, he was still a kid. He could have easily been lifted and carried away. 

But it was no secret that the immoral officers had it out for Connie. Around here, locked away from the rest of society, no one cared about what happened inside the isolating prison walls. 

The guards would ruin his entire life simply because their wives forgot to pack them a soda with their lunch, and they wanted to release their anger and frustration on someone easy to bother.

The kid trapped in an adult prison, for example.

And most of his inmates were no better. 

The monsters he was trapped in hell with had turned him from a harmless, kind, and silly teenager — who, once upon a time, had never known pain aside from falling on a concrete sidewalk and scraping his knee, because he forgot to tie his shoes before running to Eren Yeager’s house — to a violent person who had to be taught how to fight just to survive behind bars.

But it wasn’t enough.

He was still just a kid. 

A kid who never wanted to hurt anyone.

A kid who was easily targeted by everyone, and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Connie, did you hear my question?” The older woman spoke up yet again. “How do you feel after you hurt someone?”

The seventeen-year-old’s hazel eyes never once looked up at his therapist. Instead, he glared at the cold, gray floor.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

He had given that response to the last three questions she had asked during her attempts to pick his brain. 

“Try and think of an answer for me.”

“I said I don’t know.”

Despite his stern tone, despite the way he raised his voice, his therapist didn’t flinch. Nor did she completely back down.

“Tell me; when you hurt someone, do you think it’s justified because the world has made you suffer with an unjustified prison sentence, so you have the right to hurt others now? Even if those people haven’t done anything to you?” 

“That one motherfucker spilled his drink on me. He deserved what he got.”

“It was an accident, Connie.” The older woman leaned forward a bit. “Fighting can result in a longer prison sentence. Do you know what disciplinary action is?”

“Yeah. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not,” she paused. “But now, you’ve temporarily lost a few privileges. Your friends and family can’t visit you for the next few months. How does it feel knowing you can’t see your friends and family for a little while?”

Connie shrugged. 

“Connie, honey, listen to me.” The therapist dropped her voice to a whisper. “I need you to cooperate and try your hardest to work with me. I’m only trying to help you. I won’t make any promises, but your willingness to help yourself can result in a shorter sentence. Did you know that?”

Aside from the gentle rattles from Connie’s chains as he shifted around a bit, the empty, gray room was otherwise silent for a moment.

But the lady was right. If the corrupted system was somehow kind enough to lessen his sentence, or at least, consider moving him out of the adult prison and to a juvenile detention center — where he should have been, considering his crime was committed accidentally and he was still a child — then they would talk to her first. And she would report what she evaluated.

Connie released a shaky sigh.

“You were such a sweet boy when you first arrived here. I remember meeting you in group therapy sessions, and you were trying to make the best of your situation. You couldn’t stop talking about your friends and how much you loved music. Do you remember that?” 

“Yes.”

“That was only one year ago. What happened in such a short amount of time? beyond being incarcerated, of course.”

The prison was rather cold. Even the therapist had to bring a sweater despite the hot summer sun shining down on Los Angeles, and perhaps, that was why Connie started to tremble.

No. That wasn’t it. 

His eyes started to water a bit, warm tears that brimmed in his waterline threatening to fall down his face, which was pale from lack of sunlight. The teenager clenched and unclenched his jaw. Lowly, he sniffled.

“They hurt me here.”

“They hurt you here?” The therapist repeated. Despite working in mental health for twenty years, she was unable to hide her sadness and concern. “Who hurts you, Connie? Staff members or the other inmates?”

Once again, Connie was silent. The therapist asked yet another question.

“When you say hurt, what exactly do you mean? How are they hurting you?” 

He didn’t want to cry. Clenching his trembling jaw to hold back tears had failed, as one streamed down his cheek anyway. 

If only he hadn’t said anything. Just what was he thinking? 

If his therapist discovered the truth — the unspeakable pain that he had gone through in just a year — then she would have to report it, and he would be labeled as a snitch. 

“I’m just messing around. I didn’t mean to say that. My bad.”

“Connie-”

“Can I go now? Please?”

The therapist looked at her watch, noting that he still had fifteen minutes left in his session. Even if she failed to get some sort of confession out of him, she, at the very least, had to do something in her power to brighten his ruined life. 

Could she convince someone to move him to a different prison? Or, perhaps, fight to have his old privileges restored, such as visitation? 

He adored his mom. Even his therapist knew that much. 

Maybe he would tell the truth to a trusted adult or one of his friends, be it his parents, siblings, Eren, Jean, or even Mrs. Yeager. 

Someone. Anyone.

That realization made his therapist ponder. She leaned back in her seat, thinking.

“I bet Eren would storm the entire prison if he found out someone was bothering you here, hm? I know your mom would be very upset, and she would do everything she could to help you. Do you think you’d talk to one of them?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this. No one’s done anything to me, okay? I was just joking.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of-”

“Nothing to be afraid of?” Connie’s sudden, sharp glare sent a chill down the older woman’s spine. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Well, am I wrong? Is there something to be afraid of? Is someone making you feel . . .”

Connie dropped his head, tuning out the rest of her words. For the remainder of their session, he was unresponsive, refusing to say another word, fighting back the urge to cry as his thumb flicked at his fidget cube. 

If only he could have been honest.

 If only he wasn’t terrified of what would happen if he told the truth. 

If only someone could save him. 

If only he didn’t feel so alone.

As tough as he pretended to be, punching adults in the face, hoping, and yet, failing, to scare away anyone who dared to hurt him, he was nothing more than a terrified teenager who wanted to go home. Who desperately wanted his mom to soothe him, or his dad to protect him. 

But the boy would have to be content with only daydreaming about being saved as he drifted off to sleep with one eye open, because for the next few years, he would know nothing except for this miserable hell.

— PRESENT DAY —

Levi’s private jet wasn’t the only plane landing in Los Angeles today. 

Throughout Connie’s flight back to Los Angeles aboard his private jet, he spent the majority of the ride shaking his leg from pure nervousness.

Could he truly trust Levi Ackerman?

Evidence for peace.

Peace for evidence. 

That was the deal.

Maybe. Maybe not.

But he wanted that evidence badly enough to risk it. 

Glancing out of the tiny plane window, the beautiful city of L.A. came into view, mesmerizing high-rise buildings below a bright blue sky welcomed him home.

Tomorrow night, he and Levi would meet somewhere privately, and soon, everything would go back to the way it was.

Peaceful.

—

It was dark. 

The night sky had shown few stars, and the nearby orange streetlights, softly buzzing, were the only source that provided sight to Levi as he walked to the agreed meeting spot.

It was a shady area behind an empty building, one free from street surveillance cameras, as Levi promised Connie.

However, it was not free from the little tablet camera peaking out from behind nearby bushes, Hange’s finger hovering over the button to start a livestream as soon as Connie arrived.

It wouldn’t take long. 

Slow footsteps could be heard before Connie came into view, appearing from the side of a building in clothes as black as the night sky. His hands were in the pockets of his nice pants. Even when his life was falling apart, he still bothered to dress impressively.

Hange started the livestream.

Erwin started another livestream from a different social media platform, just in case something happened to the other one. And, as a last resort, they had a camera positioned elsewhere, which wasn’t broadcasting anything, but was for safekeeping, rather.

Thousands of confused fans of Eldian Devils and Levi Ackerman flooded either one of the two live streams. 

After all, he never streamed anything.

The last time a notification such as this one appeared on their phones from Levi’s accounts, was when a drunk Eren Yeager had opened his manager’s phone and started a broadcast without his permission. 

That was years ago.

“Do you have it?” Connie asked, staring into Levi’s suspicious, glistening eyes.

“Yeah. I do. You know what’s on it?” Levi reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black flash drive. “It contains your illegal money transactions. The shitty contracts you make your artists sign. Doesn’t have anything on it about what you’ve done recently, though, like shooting three people and killing one of them.”

Take the bait . . . take the bait . . . Erwin thought.

Hange and Erwin made sure their cameras successfully captured Connie’s face so no one could deny that it was him.

What an idiot he was. 

“You sound pissed off about it,” Connie yawned a bit.

“Of course I’m pissed off. You murdered Armin and tried to murder Eren. Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

“I didn’t know you cared so much, man. Sorry if I’m used to you not giving a damn about anyone but yourself.”

Hange shared a knowing look with Erwin. One that communicated their thoughts and worries without them having to say a word: Was that good enough? He hasn’t directly confessed, but he hasn’t denied anything either. Would this be enough?

Erwin gave them a nod, one that told them to keep recording.

Keep recording until it was time to stop.

“Armin was a good person. I’ll never understand why you had to kill him.” 

“Because I had to, okay? Can I have the flash drive now? Because all of this extra chatting could’ve happened over the phone.”

“Fine.” 

It was a good enough confession. 

Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive. 

Hange and Erwin were told to end the livestream once Levi reached up and scratched his left ear — not wanting to get what would happen next on camera — but he hadn’t made the move to do so yet, so they continued to record.

And why he hadn’t yet signaled them, they weren’t certain. 

Perhaps, it was because he was hesitant. 

Levi looked into the eyes of the man who, right now, trusted him entirely. The man he had trusted for years. He could see it now — the look of trust in his hazel eyes. And, perhaps, there was a look of regret as well.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as comfortable with being an evil murderer as he pretended to be. Maybe he could still be saved.

Once Connie took the flash drive from Levi’s hand, Hange’s thumb hovered over the button to end the livestream, awaiting the other man’s signal.

With one hand, Connie shoved the flash drive into his pants pocket. With the other, he swiftly grabbed the handgun out of his inner coat pocket, pointed it at Levi’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

—

— YEARS AGO —

After a long day filled with drills, exercises, and aggravating tasks all under the name of serving the country, Levi, Erwin, and Hange sat around a wooden table, playing a card game to blow off some steam.

“Shit . . .” Levi took a swig of his tea, glaring down at the deck of red and white cards in his hand. “You’re cheating, Hange.”

“Huh?!” With a frown, Hange placed down another card, coming closer and closer to winning the card game Levi couldn’t remember the name of. He didn’t care that much. 

“Ignore him,” Erwin laughed softly. “He’s finally bad at something, and he can’t stand it.”

“Is that why he’s drinking tea like it’s liquor?” Hange turned their attention from Erwin to Levi, speaking with a teasing tone. “It’s not gonna turn into whiskey, Levi.” 

Levi grabbed another card, glaring playfully.

Being that he was only twenty, he had no choice but to settle for tea. But that lovely idiot across the table surely made him wish he was downing a bottle of something — anything.

“Hey, Erwin? Where’d you go after training yesterday?” Hange darted their eyes up at Erwin, then back down at their cards.

“I had a date, remember?”

“Oh, right! With, uh, what’s her name . . . Maddie? Mia? Macadamia?”

“Maria,” Erwin corrected, smirking just a bit. He was starting to win the card game, relying on strategy instead of luck. 

“Nice, nice,” Hange nodded. “And what about you, Levi? Take any lucky girl out last weekend?”

“I’ll hit you.”

“What? I’m just asking a question,” Hange playfully wiggled their eyebrows.

“Erwin, please tell Hange to leave me alone in a nicer way than I’d put it.”

“I don’t know about that, Levi,” Erwin glanced up at the man. “I must admit that I’m curious about your love life myself.”

“See?” Hange gestured at Erwin with their hand, then looked at Levi. “Do you find anyone attractive? Are you in some wild, secret relationship we don’t know about?”

“No,” Levi placed his cards down. Erwin won the game, but everyone was too focused on hearing Levi’s revealing words to celebrate or sulk. “I don’t have a love life. I don’t care about any of that.”

“Why not?” Erwin questioned, furrowing his brows. 

“I think romance is a waste of time. Loving someone is stupid, because no matter what, it’ll always end in pain. Heartbreak, divorce, death . . . It’s unavoidable, so why waste your time when you’ll always get hurt in the end? That’s what I think, at least.” Levi took another sip of his tea. “If I die alone, I’m fine with that.” 

—

Hange’s livestream ended abruptly because they had unintentionally thrown their tablet, cracking the device and breaking it. 

Hange and Erwin ran to the fallen, bleeding man. It felt as if their bodies were moving in slow motion, and yet, everything had happened regrettably fast. 

Connie disappeared into the darkness surrounding the abandoned building they were stationed behind. Moments later, tires screeched as a car sped away. 

Hange scraped their hands collapsing at Levi’s side, but the little blood on their bruised palms paled in comparison to the pool of blood pouring out of their best friend’s body. 

“Call the police, Erwin! Call an ambulance. Oh my god, Levi, please, no . . .” 

His eyes were open. A streak of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. Hange scooped their hand underneath his head, cradling him.

As Erwin contacted the nearest first responders, Hange pressed their hand against Levi’s injured chest, attempting to stop the bleeding.

As they did so, bloodied hand against his bullet wound, they felt the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. 

“Levi? Can you hear me?” Hange stared down into his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at the few stars twinkling up above. 

“I’m . . . sorry.” Levi’s voice was weak. A tear fell from his eye.

Erwin dropped the phone. He pushed Levi’s hair away from his face, leaning in to hear the man speak.

“Sorry . . .” Levi repeated.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, do you understand me? This screwup isn’t your fault.” Tears brimmed in Erwin’s waterline. When he blinked, it fell onto Levi’s warm cheek.

“You’re not gonna die like this, Levi, we promise,” Hange said. They could barely see him through their tears, which blurred their vision. 

Levi’s blood started to touch their knees.

“Take care of her . . . okay?” Levi whispered. He had to use all of his strength to speak. More blood pooled from his mouth. “Take care of-of Y/N . . . help her learn how to . . . cook. She’s learn . . .  she’s learning. Help her produce her play . . . promise me. Keep her . . . happy. Tell her that I love her . . . okay? Promise . . .”

In the distance, ambulance sirens blared.

Erwin smiled, stroking Levi’s forehead. “You hear that, Levi? It’s an ambulance. You’re going to be just fine. You can tell her all of that yourself.” 

Hange held Levi’s hand. 

He just needed to hold on a little longer . . . just a little longer . . . and he would be just fine.

This time around, no one could hear Connie’s footsteps before he came into view.

This time, they weren’t aware of his presence until he was standing right behind them with his gun drawn, his hand trembling, eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Connie spoke with a shaky voice, one filled with regret — the same regret he felt after he fired a bullet into Eren.

Erwin’s eyes widened. 

He must have returned to kill him and Hange, eliminating any witnesses. After all, he had no idea about the livestream. He had no idea that thousands of people had witnessed tonight’s events unfold, soon to be millions upon millions as the news spread.

Erwin didn’t care about his own life, and he tried to reach across Levi and pull Hange away, but the bullet was fired too soon.

It didn’t hit Hange. 

It didn’t hit Erwin.

It hit Levi in the forehead, killing him instantly. Killing any chance of survival.

If the police cars and ambulance trucks racing down the street nearby didn’t know where to locate them, they certainly would after hearing Hange’s scream. 

But when they showed up, there was nothing they could do. 

They were too late.

Hange cradled Levi’s warm, bleeding body, trembling arms wrapped around him while Erwin did most of the talking, communicating with the police officers as best as he could, masking his pain to better tell the tale of how the corrupt justice system is what led to this situation to begin with.

But nothing — nothing — would ever be as difficult as arriving at Levi's home that night, promising to return to the police station in the morning for more questioning.

As they stepped through the doors, Hange’s sobs quiet as they made their way into the foyer, you were preparing a surprise celebratory dinner in honor of their success, confident that the three best friends would return victorious.  

Hange sat down on the foyer floor. They couldn’t walk anymore. They couldn’t feel their legs. 

“I’ll be right back, give me one second.” The sad man stroked his crying friend’s hair. 

He stepped into the archway of the kitchen. For a while, you hadn’t noticed him.

Darting back and forth between the stove and cabinets you were, and Erwin didn’t disturb you just yet, wanting to let you hold on to your happiness just a bit longer. 

Then, your eyes darted up to his face briefly, just long enough to see that familiar head of blonde hair, but not long enough to notice the pained look within his blue eyes, nor the blood staining his body.

“You’re back!” You said, turning away from him to pull a tray of baked chicken out of the oven. “I know it’s late, but there’s nothing wrong with a midnight dinner, right? I, uh, I cooked everything myself. I burned the chicken a little bit on the bottom, but I just cut that part off. It’s fine. I can’t wait to see the look on Levi’s face! I even made dessert . . . well, I bought dessert . . . but only because I didn’t have time to bake anything. Of course, the one thing I’m good at, I don’t even have time to-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as you looked at Erwin yet again, your eyes lingering long enough this time to notice his distraught appearance.

As you stood there wearing your oven mitts and your apron, holding a tray of oven-roasted vegetables, you worriedly asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you so . . . did someone get hurt?”

Before Erwin could respond — although it took him a moment to get ready to speak, as his voice had faded away due to the lump in his throat — you reached for the stove behind you, turning off a sizzling pan to better your hearing. 

That’s when you heard Hange’s sobs coming from the foyer.

“Erwin?” Your tone was thick with worry. “What happened? Where’s Levi?”

At that moment, when that haunting question fell from between your lips, Erwin wished that he was the dead one right now. 

“Y/N,” he spoke as calmly as he could, nodding in the direction of the nearby breakfast nook. “I need you to sit down for me.” 

You shook your head. Your mitted hands clenched the hot tray. Your legs started to wobble. Your eyes started to glisten with hot tears.

“Where’s Levi, Erwin? Where is he? Where’s Levi?” 

He couldn’t tell you. Not like this. Not with you holding a hot tray in your hands. You could get hurt.

“Y/N . . .”

You started to cry.

“Where’s Levi? Where?” 

Despite your words, you knew the answer. You were a woman who knew the look of unspeakable grief quite well.

Erwin approached your trembling body slowly as you sobbed.

The hot tray fell from your hands. Erwin was quick enough to smack it away so it wouldn’t touch you, burning his hand and arm in the process. It hurt, but none of that mattered. Not right now. 

He caught you before you collapsed to the ground. One hand was wrapped around your body. The other hand cradled your head. 

Crying into his chest, you continued to ask: “Where’s Levi? Where is he?”

—

— THREE DAYS LATER —

The world had come to know the truth — an ugly piece of honesty that no one could deny: Connie Springer was a coldhearted murderer, and Levi Ackerman was dead.

The latest chaos appeared worldwide on notable news channels. Headlined the most popular articles and newspapers. 

But none of it mattered.

Even after shooting Levi twice — once in the chest, then circling back around to kill him completely, not wanting a repeat of Erwin and Eren’s situation — Connie was still a free man.

He very well couldn’t buy his way out of this one. 

The general public had seen his sins with their own eyes. 

But, even if the government was forced to do its part and uphold its own laws, laws that wouldn’t help them purchase a Beverly Hills mansion and secure their children’s future in top-notch Ivy League schools, it didn’t mean a thing, because no one could find him.

The master bedroom door opened, and gentle footsteps made their way towards the side of the bed, where you laid on your side, head resting on a pillow. His pillow.

It was uncomfortably wet from your tears.

“Hey,” Erwin’s voice was soft. “I made breakfast. You should try to eat something.”

You didn’t respond. 

You couldn’t. 

Grief took your voice away — snatched any desire to speak, as your throat was dried to a crisp.

Therefore, you only shook your head, and Erwin sighed a bit. 

He sat down a white bowl of some steamy, nutritional substance on the nightstand nearby.

“It’s here if you change your mind. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

The grieving man walked away.

It wasn’t fair. Truly. It wasn’t. 

He was suffering just as much as you and Hange, who occupied the guest bedroom, having their own tear-soaked pillow to sob into with a bowl of uneaten food on their nightstand as well.

But he couldn’t sit around and grieve. Instead, he had to take on the role of a caregiver, trying his hardest to do what he could for you and Hange. 

Over the last few days, he cooked. Cleaned. Opened the door only to allow visitors who he thought would help lessen your misery, like Sasha, Annie, and Eren.

Although the paparazzi once again lurking around Levi’s property were indeed pests, he took advantage of that. Standing in front of their cameras, speaking into their microphones, he spoke on and on about how horrific Connie Springer was. How none of his artists were safe until he was locked away.

“You care about their music. You care about their concerts. You care about their interviews. Now, it’s time to care about their lives,” Erwin once said, his words broadcasted worldwide for millions to hear. “Help us find Connie Springer, so every artist he has worked with can seek justice, and sleep soundly and safely. Continue to be outraged at him and everyone at CS Records who holds a position of power. 

Eren Yeager almost lost his life thanks to him. I almost lost mine as well, both of us, victims of his violence.

Armin Arlert was a kind, hardworking man who was simply walking down the street with Eren Yeager, drinking a slushie. Now, he’ll never know what it’s like to grow old. To live comfortably.

Levi Ackerman died trying to protect his loved ones. This is the same man who brought your favorite singers to the spotlight. Avenge him by finding his killer, so that he and Armin Arlert may rest in peace. Thank you.” 

—

Around noon, Erwin, once again, made his way into the bedroom. You hadn’t moved a muscle.

Silently, he grabbed the uneaten bowl of breakfast food, which had gotten cold and dry over the dreadful hours.

He replaced it with a plate. On it, there was a sandwich, cut in half, and a few pieces of fruit.

Taking the old bowl away, he returned moments later with a glass of water, and a hardcover, brown, book of some sort. 

He sat the water down on the nightstand. Even the gentle clink-clank of the glass was too much to bear.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “I found this. I think you might want to take a look at it.”

Your eyes shifted in his direction. Much like you did when he offered you food earlier, you simply shook your head.

“It’s from Levi. I found it in his office. I think it’s . . .” Erwin paused. “Look at it, when you get the chance.” 

He reached over you, placing the book on the other side of your bed.

After that, he left.

An hour and twenty minutes had passed before you built up the courage to sit up in bed and grab the book. With trembling hands, you opened it, only to discover that it wasn’t a book at all.

It was a photo album.

Every picture that he had taken of you, both mundane and extraordinary, was printed out and filed neatly on every page you had flipped. He added the dates as well, written along the white spaces underneath every photograph, as well as a little description of what was happening or where you were.

Planting new flowers

Sasha’s birthday party 

Making tacos

The beach

After the photo of you and him on that beautiful day, there was one more.

It was the picture he took of you on the date afterward. There you were, smiling, holding a fork that was getting ready to dive into your first course, a fresh, creatively-plated salad, all while wearing your favorite dress. 

Your tears splattered onto the pages. It blurred your vision, but after blinking a few times to clear it, you were able to read the final description.

Our last date

Gripping the edges of the photo album, you brought it closer. Perhaps, you read that incorrectly. Maybe it was a result of dehydration and depression.

But no. The words remained the same.

How could he have known that your last date would indeed be your last date?

You flipped the page, not expecting any more photos to appear. And there weren’t. The remaining pages were empty photo slots waiting to be filled.

There was, however, an envelope tucked in between one of the pages. 

Your name was written on the front of it in Levi’s perfect handwriting.

Shaky fingers ripped open the envelope rather quickly. With one hand, you wiped your tears, and with the other, you unfolded what appeared to be a letter.

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, then I’m sorry.

I’m sorry because I’m going to die soon, and I have to put you through even more grief. I hope you can forgive me for it.

I wasn’t being honest with you, or with anyone.

Some think I plan to kill Connie. They’re wrong. You think I plan to put Connie in prison, which I am, but not in the way we discussed. I need more than a live confession. I need people to see him killing someone they ignorantly think is more important, someone who matters more to Hollywood than a waiter. Getting him to admit to Armin’s death won’t be enough. The flash drive alone won’t be enough.

The only way to cause enough outrage is if I die too, and everyone sees it. No amount of money can erase what I’m hoping millions of people will see. Outrage would mean no amount of money can persuade the justice system. 

That’s what I’m hoping for, at least.

Thinking that Connie will kill me is a gamble, but I’m certain he will because I know him. I really know him. I know he’s wanted to kill me for a long time, and once he gets what he thinks is a flash drive with evidence, he can finally do it. Killing me means killing his biggest threat.

And, there’s also the fact that you manipulated him with my kid. 

I knew mentioning that on TV could be what will finally push him into killing me.

The flash drive I plan to give him is fake. There’s nothing on it. The real one is in my office. I don’t want to risk giving that up, dead or alive. It could come in handy. Who knows.

I had to take a page out of Connie’s book and make a few jerks rich, but I poured money into ensuring that Connie goes to a specific prison where he will never be able to escape, assuming he gets arrested and doesn’t get away after killing me. I hope not, or else this will all be pointless.

But that isn’t the only reason I have to do all of this.

I married you because I love you, that’s true, but I also did it so that you’ll get my life insurance once I die.

Connie took everything from you, but everything I own, everything that belongs to me, I give to you. He can’t touch it.

You won’t have to depend on anyone anymore. You’ll be able to live comfortably now, which is all I want for you. You won’t be alone, either. Erwin and Hange will look after you, I know it. Eren’s still around, and knowing him, he isn’t going anywhere.

But, Y/N, I want you to grow old. I want you to become the playwright you always wanted to be. I want you to be happy, even if I’m not around to see it.

The rest of this photo album is blank. Fill it with whatever you want. Pictures from the past. Pictures you’ll take in the future. 

And once you’re happy and free from all this pain and trouble, share it with someone. 

You were my one true love, and I will never regret dying for you, Y/N.

Sincerely, your husband, Levi

—

— CANADA, TWO WEEKS LATER —

The disgustingly small hideout was once again Connie’s residence as he hid out from the rest of the world. Now, oddly enough, it felt smaller. More suffocating. 

Connie slowly paced back and forth around the tiny living room.

How long could he truly stay here? Was this truly a situation he couldn’t toss money at? With the entire world watching, he had no choice but to accept his fate. He had gone too far by giving in to his bloodlust, all in the name of evidence and revenge.

The computer sitting on his desk against one of the plain living room walls suddenly dinged. It was an indication that he had received a new email.

He would have ignored it. It was probably some sort of advertisement or business that could wait until morning. 

Despite thinking this, Connie found himself walking to his desk, sitting down in the chair, and moving his mouse around to fully awaken his computer — it was as if his mind and body were no longer in sync.

When the bright screen displayed his inbox, an unsettling chill ran up his spine when he read the name of the sender from an email delivered thirty seconds ago. With a trembling hand, he clicked it.

Levi Ackerman (no subject)

Connie,

If you’re getting this email, that means you have successfully murdered me. Good job.

But, if you’re able to read this, that means you aren’t behind bars somewhere, and my plan has failed.

I’m worried that it will fail. I’m worried that even after I set you up and I die by your hand, the people I care for will still be in danger because the shitty cops can’t find you, or maybe, the public doesn’t care about both me and Armin dying as much as I hope they do, and their lack of outrage means that you can pay off law enforcement once again and get away with it all. I don’t know. 

But that’s why I’m writing this email and scheduling for it to be sent after a certain date, because I know that if you see it, you’re still a free man, and you can hurt everyone I care for. 

So, I want to talk to you one last time.

People often wonder why someone like me became a manager. I don’t give a damn about fame or music. I told myself that it was because I wanted to look after Eren. His family took care of my cousin, so I wanted to help him accomplish his dreams and protect him. I did a shit job doing that, clearly.

But I also became a manager because of you, too.

I know a thing or two about shitty childhoods, Connie. When I met you after your time in prison, you had that same look that all troubled kids have, and believe it or not, I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to be successful, and to rub it in the face of everyone who hurt you and doubted you.

So, when I witnessed you become a monster with my own eyes, I did nothing. Hurt people hurt other people. I knew that. 

But I made the wrong decision back then.

If I had done something back then, if I had been there for you in a different way like I should have been, maybe things would have turned out differently now. Maybe you could have gone down a better path.

I can’t say. 

But I’m sorry, Connie. I really am. I let you down. I let everyone down. Leading musicians into what I knew would be a horrific situation contract-wise is something I will never forgive myself for, a burden I can’t shake, so my death won’t just serve as part of a setup to imprison you, but it’ll be my freedom.

But, Connie, it’s not too late to start over. It’s not too late to become a better person, the person you should and would have been if someone had been there for you all those years ago.

That’s why I’m reaching out.

Please leave Y/N alone. Leave everyone else alone. I’m begging you. Let my death be enough.

Anyway, if I survive, then I’ll come back and delete this email before it sends. I doubt I will, though. But, if I do live, then that means you are really willing to accept my deal for peace (then I’m the asshole for trying to set you up, but whatever.)

If that’s the case, if you are willing to have peace, then maybe, I could help you find your own form of happiness too. In the future, we could have tea and talk about all of it once everything dies down. 

But if that doesn’t happen, and you kill me, then I forgive you. 

Sincerely, Levi

—

When tears brimmed in Connie’s waterline, he was uncertain what emotion had provoked such a reaction from him. Sadness? Anger? Regret? 

Either way, his trembling hand moved the mouse, dragging the cursor to a little garbage can icon, and he deleted the email.

—

It wasn’t déjà vu. 

Yes, seeing yet another casket lowered into the ground at the hands of Connie Springer was familiar. The horrific pain was recurring. But this time, at this depressing, heartbreaking funeral, you didn’t cry uncontrollably. Your legs didn’t give out. 

You stood there in yet another black dress, but you were emotionless. Speechless. Eyes dry. 

Your misery was an old friend. Travesty was like a neverending dream. 

But it wasn’t your familiarity with pain that resulted in your unsettling composure. 

It was because you were too angry to properly mourn. 

After all, Connie was still gone, which meant Levi Ackerman had died for nothing, and you refused to let that happen.

No longer would you sit around, having to be consoled and cared for by others. No longer would you sit on the receiving end of every action at the hands of that monster you so desperately wanted to find.

It was time to make Connie suffer too.

And you’d become as twisted as he was to do it.

—

— THREE YEARS LATER —

“I’m nervous, Mom, oh my goodness. What if they changed their minds or something? What if I mess up?” 

Jane Caddell wiped her sweaty hands off on her pants leg as her mom pulled into an empty spot in the spacious, multi-level parking garage.

“You’ll be fine, sweetie.” The older woman said. “I'll be right next to you the entire time, okay? You should be excited!”

“I am!” The blonde-haired nineteen-year-old girl grinned nervously, glancing down at her nice outfit to make sure there wasn’t any lint or cat fur. “I’m just . . . I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“You can be scared, honey. All that matters is that you do it anyway. What you don’t want to be, though, is late. So let’s go.”

The mother and daughter got out of their car, a white vehicle with a Wisconsin license plate, which stuck out in a place like California.

Holding hands, they made their way into the enormous, fancy building. Designing it must have been an architect’s dream. It was rather extravagant — white, mainly, with golden finishes and black accents stretching throughout the lobby and hallways. 

Jane and her mother couldn’t help but stare, wide-eyed, at the beauty that was just a tiny fraction of the first floor alone. 

After meeting the receptionist sitting behind a massive desk, also with golden finishes, they waited for their escort — a tall, blonde-haired man — and made their way to the hallway of elevators.

As they did so, a well-known pop singer walked by. It only intensified Jane’s inner panic. She couldn’t calm her racing heartbeat.

They arrived outside of a spacious, modern office. The man who escorted them, and also doubled as head of security, held the door open, and nervously, the mother and daughter stepped in. 

“Your 12:30 appointment has arrived,” the man said.

“Thank you, Erwin.” 

After giving you a nod, he left, leaving the mother and daughter in your grand office, which looked like a mini version of the lobby several floors down.

You sat in a chair behind a desk with your name imprinted along it.

With a smile, you looked up at the two visitors, and softly, you said, “Have a seat, please.”

They took their positions in the two white chairs in front of your desk. 

“Welcome to Arlert Records, ladies. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, um,” the mother looked at her nervous daughter, “that would be nice, yes! What do you have?”

“We have everything here.”

The mother laughed in disbelief. 

“Oh, well, just water will be fine.”

You pressed on the tiny, bluetooth earpiece in your right ear. 

“Two waters,” you requested.

Darting your eyes between them both, and said, “It’ll be just a moment, ladies.”

“Okay, that’s perfectly fine,” the mother smiled politely. The older woman made eye contact with her anxious daughter, then flickered her blue eyes in your direction with a little nod of her head.

Eventually, her daughter took the hint.

She leaned forward, extending her trembling hand, and nervously, but with a smile, she said, “It’s n-nice to meet you, Mrs. Ackerman. I’m Jane Caddell.”

“The pleasure is mine, Jane,” you shook the girl’s sweaty, warm hand. “And, please, call me Y/N.”

“So,” clearing your throat, you paused, looking into Jane’s blue eyes. “I know you have gone over the finer details of your contract with legal representatives, but I wanted to personally meet you myself and welcome you to the record label.”

“Thank you so much,” Jane grinned brightly. “It’s a dream come true!”

After giving two knocks, a woman walked in carrying a tray. She sat down two glasses of iced water with lemons on the rim on the table in between the two chairs. After receiving thanks from the mother and daughter, she left.

“You remind me of myself when I was younger, Jane,” you leaned back in your seat. “Unfamiliar with Hollywood, having nothing to rely on except a beautiful voice. They used to call me a diamond-in-the-rough, you know.”

Jane laughed nervously. Once again, she wiped her hands off of her pants. 

“Anyway, I plan on making you a star, Jane. I hope you weren’t too attached to that retail job of yours, because you won’t need it anymore.”

A tear rolled down Jane’s cheek. 

Were you telling the truth? Would she no longer have to work double shifts at Walmart just to help her mother out with the neverending bills?

“This all just sounds too good to be true, I mean, I can’t believe it. My daughter . . . a star.” The mother reached out, grabbing ahold of her daughter’s hand. “What happens now?”

“Well, this is completely optional, but I would recommend moving down here to Los Angeles, or as close to the city as you can get, that way you both won’t have to constantly travel back and forth.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “But, career-wise, you will work with our songwriters and producers to create your first official song. One of my signed artists, Jean Kirstein, has created countless amount of hit singles and albums for other artists, so I would like for you to work with him. In the meantime, when you’re not in the studio, you will have to take a couple of lessons — private classes, if you will — for media training, stage presence, and things of that nature. While you’re working hard, my company will be promoting you until you become a household name. How does that sound?”

Excitedly, the doe-eyed mother and daughter rambled on and on about their excitement. 

How innocent they were, having no clue what Hollywood was truly like.

Pitiful. 

The meeting came to an end around thirty minutes later, after discussing more career-establishing details. And, once they were escorted out, your fake smile faded away. You were left with nothing except the soulless expression that graced your face over the last few years, nothing more.

Pressing your earpiece, you softly said, “Send Jean Kirstein to my office, now.”

Ten minutes later, Jean appeared in your office, opening the door with his hand, which had a beautiful engagement ring on it. 

He took a seat in one of your chairs.

“Something wrong?” He asked plainly.

“Not at all,” you crossed your legs. “I signed a new artist recently. Her name is Jane Caddell. I want you to help her out. Write her songs, produce her music, do whatever is necessary to make sure her first album dominates the Billboard.”

“No problem,” Jean nodded. “Anything else?”

Tilting your head a bit, you questioned, “How are you doing? I haven’t talked to you in a while. It’s good to see you.”

Truth be told, Jean was in your massive building almost every single day, mainly in one of the recording studios, but your paths rarely crossed. After all, he was a solo artist now, making music for himself with the exception of moments like this, where you asked him to help out other artists.

He didn’t mind one bit. After all, there weren’t any silent men around to abuse him, and he was no longer living in anyone else’s shadow. 

He was happy. Truly. 

“I’m fine,” Jean smiled softly. “Great, actually. My wedding’s in a few months. We’re sending invitations out soon, and we’d love for you to come.”

“Maybe,” you replied, giving him a fake grin, one that he could see right through, but decided not to comment on. 

There was, perhaps, one thing in his life that wasn’t perfect.

You.

Someone he considered to be a close friend now after everything that has happened.

After all, he hadn’t seen you flash a real smile in years. Forgotten what your amazing laugh sounded like. What worried him more than anything, was that with every passing day, every moment that Armin and Levi went without justice, you were becoming more and more like the very person law enforcement failed to hunt down.

Manipulating others to achieve your goals.

Dominating Los Angeles and the entertainment industry.

There were some differences, though. Those you were willing to hurt financially, emotionally, or physically were often targets because they hurt your friends and artists intentionally or unintentionally. Everyone you cherished was cared for. Even so, Jean couldn’t help but question your values nowadays. It seemed as if money was all that mattered.

Money, and being merciless.

Shortly after Levi’s death, CS Records shut down completely. Some artists and employees enjoyed their newfound freedom, but the majority of people felt lost and were worried about what the absence of a record label — one that was known for paying their artists and employees insanely well — would mean for their careers.

That was when you started your own company with the help of Levi’s money. 

It had blossomed tremendously over the last few years. Artists and employees who previously worked for CS Records now worked for you. 

And that wasn’t all.

Arlert Records was only one of your companies. 

Ackerman Studios, for example, was your film company, and both businesses, along with others, existed underneath your global mass media entertainment conglomerate, The F/N L/N Corporation. The headquarters for it were in another California city about forty minutes away. 

You were now worth billions. Your name was worth billions. Your companies were worth billions.

The unspeakable amount of wealth you possessed was far greater than what Connie had ever pocketed, and in only three years.

If only you were happy. 

“Well, I better get going,” you started to get out of your chair. “I need to go down to headquarters today, and the film studio. There’s business to attend to.”

“Wait,” Jean stood up as well. “Do you want some company? I can come with-”

“No. I’m fine.”

With that, you headed for the door, heels clicking against the ground as you said, “There’s lots of work to do, Jean. Get back to it, and I’ll see you later.”

“Someone lock up my office in about five minutes,” you ordered into your earpiece.

—

Four bodyguards accompanied you during your transportive journey to your film studio across town.

Filmmakers, actors, and productive crew members were hard at work — either surrounded by green screens and cameras or shooting inside of the houses and buildings you build on the surrounding land of your property — everyone creating interesting movies that would certainly dominate the box office next year.

However, today, your business was with a very specific director named Brox Garrett.

A stupid name for a stupid man.

In your office in the main building, you sat on top of your desk, legs crossed, two bodyguards at your side.

Then, that stupid man with the stupid name entered, a smug look on his face.

“Brox! It’s good to see you,” you lied with a beautiful smile. “Have a seat.” 

“I’m fine with standing-”

“Have a seat.”

His bottom made contact with a chair instantly. Your kind, yet assertive tone was frightening. 

“I’m not happy with you, Brox. Do you know why?”

The middle-aged man gulped a bit, terrified to answer. 

“I take your silence as a sign that you don’t.” You frowned at him. “I’m not happy because I truly, truly hate myself right now. I hate myself for being such a fool when I hired you, the hotshot director who promised me that a fantastic action film would be released this next year.”

“We’re not that far off schedule, we just-”

“Stop talking, please.” You raised your hand. He didn’t say another word. “Anyway, I’ve had a very busy week. The last thing I wanted to do today was come down to the film studio, but here I am, all because I hired you. A fool. So, tell me, whose job was it to make sure Annie Leonhart’s harness was fully operational before shooting a jumping scene? As the director, it’s your job to double-check those things, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Annie’s a very close friend of mine. Someone I absolutely adore. And, now, she’s recovering from a broken leg and a concussion.” You sighed. “So, that’s exactly how you’re going to leave here today . . . with a broken leg and a concussion.”

You got off of your desk, making your way towards the door, whereas your bodyguards stayed behind, glaring at the director. 

“Wait, wait, wait-”

“Oh,” you turned back right before leaving, “and you’re fired, by the way. I’ll see to it that you never get a job in this industry ever again.”

Reaching into your purse, you pulled out a small packet, and tossed it at him, the wrapper crinkling as he caught it with trembling hands.

He glanced down at the item.

It was a beef-flavored pack of ramen noodles.

“For you and your children to share,” with a soft smile, you whispered, “use it wisely.”

He shouted something as you closed the door — what he said, you couldn’t have cared less — and you left him trapped in the office with your bodyguards who would make sure he left in the same condition his careless actions put Annie in.

One of your assistants, who was waiting outside of your office for you, perked up as soon as you came into view, clenching her iPad in preparation to take note of all the orders she was certain you’d bark at her. 

“Please make sure Annie is recovering well. Let’s send her on a vacation once she’s healed. Two weeks. Somewhere tropical. Write that down.”

“Yes ma’am,” your assistant immediately jotted that down. “It’s about time to cover Hange Zoe’s bills. Would you like to make any adjustments before I send the funds?”

“Yes,” you started walking down a hallway with multiple movie and TV show posters made by your studio hanging on the walls as decor, and your assistant trailed behind. “Their cat’s sick, so I’ve heard. Send enough money to cover the vet bills, and enough to buy a new cat if this one doesn’t pull through. In fact, just triple the amount we usually send. I don’t care how much they protest, either.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does anyone else need anything?”

“Uh . . .” your assistant checked her notes, double checking to make sure that Hange, Erwin, Jean, Annie, and Sasha were all taken care of.

Mikasa hadn’t been in contact with you in years. 

Years.

But, according to Jean, she was doing alright, coping with everything that had happened by continuing to climb mountains and dive in the ocean, traveling from one country to the next.

Reiner, lovingly, didn’t need or want anything from you.

He did keep his word and traveled to Los Angeles about twice a year to check up on you. However, upon hearing how you’ve changed, he wanted you to come visit him down in the South. Even so, he knew good food and kind people couldn’t fix your problems like last time, but it was worth a shot, he figured. 

But you declined every invitation.

Then, lastly, there was Eren, who had spiraled after Levi’s death. But, he was starting to heal from his dark mental state. The same couldn’t be said for you.

“As far as requests involving money and career opportunities, all of your friends, clients, and employees are cared for, and all of your upcoming business events are all planned out. However, there are some . . . social requests.”

“Social?” You stepped into an elevator with the young woman.

“Yes ma’am,” she nodded, then darted her eyes down to her iPad. “Reiner invited you to yet another barbeque . . . Jean’s having a party . . . Erwin’s-”

“No, no,” you raised your hand, shaking your head. “I don’t have time for any of that. Just send everyone who has an upcoming event a gift of some sort.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

You knew what your friends were trying to do. They wanted to bring out the human side of you. The side that smiled. Laughed. Cared about things other than the entertainment industry and wealth. 

And, for a while, you promised them that, one day, you would show up for them.

Eventually, you would attend Hange and Erwin’s Thanksgiving dinners. You would grab drinks with Annie and Sasha. Teach underprivileged kids how to sing and play piano with Jean. Go down to Tennessee and visit Reiner and his family.

All of those promises were made and broken. 

But your friends never gave up on you, no matter how much you wished they would.

—

Together, you and your assistant traveled to the marvelous headquarters of The F/N L/N Corporation. There, the business you needed to attend to wasn’t directly connected to the entertainment industry. There, your business was personal. On the top several floors, men and women worked incredibly hard to keep your companies running, handling business, managing talent, and making your bank accounts grow. But, down in the basement to which you were escorted, a different set of employees were working on something entirely different. “I think you’ll be pleased, Mrs. Ackerman,” your escort said, guiding you down the twisty hallways and into a secure room with bright computers and intelligent minds at work. “I better be,” you replied. “If I traveled all this way for nothing, all of you are getting fired.” Stepping into the room, a dark-haired man looked at you with an unreadable expression — as if his soul was trapped somewhere between happiness and fear. “What?” You questioned, glancing around at the other faces staring at you. “What is it?” “We found him, Mrs. Ackerman. We found Connie.”

A photograph of Armin and Levi’s murderer appeared on a big display screen at the front of the room. There the bastard was, wearing a hood and sunglasses to conceal his identity. But, while the average Joe strolling down the street might not have recognized him with a hood on his head, surveillance cameras would. Weeks ago, Connie was assumed to be in Canada. Getting access to his old bank transactions had shown he had a house built out there years ago. It was almost as if he was prepared for his future, knowing that it would be filled with nothing but trouble. However, the details were locked up pretty tight, leaving no specific address that could be tracked down. But there he was. “Looks like he’s leaving some sort of market, so I’m guessing he might live close,” you commented, eyes darting down to the little brown bag in his fist. “Give us a week, and I’m certain we’ll be able to pin him down exactly.” “You have three days,” you started to walk away. “Address or not, I’m going to Canada, and I’m not leaving until I find him.” You could see it now, boarding a jet with your team of security, and finally being able to get your hands on Connie. Then, everyone could live safely. No longer would everyone who was affiliated with him need bodyguards surrounding them or their properties constantly.  And, best of all, Armin and Levi would have justice. Peace.

—

There was something rather somber about your days coming to an end. While you might have had one of the biggest mansions in Los Angeles, which was a gorgeous piece of modern, chateau-inspired art, it only intensified your loneliness. Your driver pulled down around your divine water fountain, dropping you off in front of the grand staircase that led to your double front doors. Your heels clicked with every step, the sound of it echoing into the night. In your house, you had live-in security and staff, sure — but they were employees. They did nothing to fill the gaping hole in your chest.  Before you reached your front doors, a moving figure caught your eye. Glancing up, the startling sight of someone sitting on your steps made you gasp. “Eren?” You frowned. “What are you doing here? You scared me.” “Sorry.” The man stood up from where he sat.  “No one tossed you off of my property?” Glaring, you added, “Everyone knows I don’t like visitors. Someone’s getting fired for this.” “No, don’t fire anyone, it’s my fault. I was trying to come see you, and you weren’t answering your phone, so I asked Erwin, and he said I could wait for you here.” Your face visibly softened. Erwin knew you wouldn’t dare fire him for this, but to disrespect your wishes and allow something like this only meant one thing: even he was trying to cure your loneliness, just like the rest of your friends. Of course, none of them were as persistent or stubborn as Eren Yeager.

“Why’d you want to see me? Do you need something?” “Yeah,” Eren smiled sadly. “I needed to see you.” “Well, I can’t help you with that.” You walked past him. Being alerted of your presence, a bodyguard standing by one of the doors opened it for you. “Go home.” Suddenly, Eren’s hand was wrapped around your arm, halting your footsteps.  “Wait,” he said.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want this, but here.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a little box, and handed it to you. “Happy birthday.” Your eyes, which bore into his, glistened with utter confusion, and a look of shock that silently asked the question: You remembered? Slowly, you opened the gift. It was a ring, and not a last-minute purchase from Pandora. It was a silver band with a precious, bright gemstone.  “Thank you,” you mumbled. “It’s beautiful.” “You’re welcome,” he gave a soft smile. “Have a good night, okay?” He started to walk away, but he barely made it three steps down before you called his name. “Eren, wait.” The former rockstar turned around, gazing at you with curiosity, confusion, and hopefulness. “Do you want. . .” you sighed, fighting against the self-hatred you felt from being vulnerable. “Do you want to come inside for a little while?” When Eren smiled, it was as if no time had passed, as it was the same beautiful smile he gave you when you first met.

Red wine trickled and swooshed around as it was poured into the two glasses sitting on a table in the middle of your wine cellar. Eren preferred other alcoholic beverages over wine, but he’d be a fool to complain. After all, this was the first time you and him had hung out in over a year. He was curious about what had made you want to let him into your residence but refused to ask. But, once again, that expressional face of his betrayed him. As he sipped his beverage, you could see the curious gaze within his emerald eyes, along with his slightly furrowed brows, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. “If you’re wondering why I invited you inside,” you paused, putting the expensive wine bottle to the side. “It’s not because it’s my birthday. I’m celebrating something else right now.” “What is it?” “Well,” your face changed into a serious, yet excited look. “I’m getting closer to finding Connie. Surveillance cameras spotted him.” “That’s great,” Eren smiled. He was happy, truly. While the police were still looking, they had failed to make any progress over the last three years.  Eren did everything he could, which amounted to never shutting up in front of the cameras, and opening his mouth about everything CS Records had done to him and Jean Kirstein.  With your help, he was able to get a few Silent Men tossed in prison, but not Connie. As badly as he wanted him to be punished, there was one thing he wanted even more. He wanted your old self to come back. “After he’s dealt with, do you think you’ll come hang out with your friends every now and then?” Eren asked softly. “We all miss you.” You took another sip of your wine.  “I can’t make any promises, Eren. Finding him won’t bring Armin and Levi back, and that’s what really . . .” your glass clinked as you sat it on top of a marble coaster. “Everyone’s always telling me that they would want me to be happy. Move on. And I know that, believe me, but what if I don’t feel better after Connie’s dead or in prison? What if I feel this shitty for the rest of my life? I keep telling myself that once they get justice, everything will go back to normal, but what is there to go back to? In the beginning, all I had was Armin. In the end, all I had was Levi. Who’s left?” “Your friends, Y/N.” Eren leaned forward. “We’re still here, and we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, you know that. Me, Jean, Annie, Sasha, Erwin, Hange . . . Reiner and Mikasa might not be close by, but they’re still here too.” “You say that, but Mikasa hasn’t said a word to me in years,” you took another sip of your wine, wishing that it was something stronger. “Have you reached out?”  You didn’t respond, which, indirectly, was an answer in itself. “If you don’t stop a friend from walking away, then you’re the one who has to reach out to bring them back. That’s how it works.” “Is that what you’re doing now? To me?” You raised your eyebrows at the man, who suddenly had grown wiser over the last few years.  “No,” Eren’s eyes darted down at the exquisite wooden table. “With you, I’m the one who walked away and I’m the one who’s reaching out. I just wish you wouldn’t push me away.” “Don’t take it personally.”

A few moments of silence passed.

Eren suddenly pulled two things out of his pocket. The first item was an old, braided, paracord keychain with faded green and brown colors. The second item was something you recognized. It was an overused, bent, blue bookmark. “This,” Eren held up the keychain, “belonged to Marco. He put his house key on this thing. I’ve kept it for years.”  “This,” Eren put the bookmark on the table, “belonged to Armin. He left it at my house that night before he was shot. Those two never knew each other, but they had a lot in common, you know? Both too kind for their own good.” “Both were killed by Connie.” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but you couldn’t help it, even if Marco’s death was an accident.  “Anyway, I just like to hold on to things people love, sometimes. They don’t necessarily have to be dead, either. Jean’s guitar pick is at my house . . . I have a scarf Mikasa used to love wearing . . . I have your-” “Do you have anything of Levi’s?” Cutting him off wasn’t intentional, but luckily, he didn’t mind.  “Yeah,” Eren’s eyes darted down to the ring he gifted you. “That ring.” “What?” You gave a confused frown. “What does that mean?” “I didn’t realize it at the time, but when Levi and I were talking at the hospital a few years ago, he told me in great detail what he wanted your wedding ceremony to look like. Even though you were already married, he was still going on and on about it. After he died, I realized that he wasn’t telling me his plans. He was trying to help me plan.” Eren smiled sadly. “I guess he thought that after his death, after grieving for a few months, you’d come right back to me. I don’t think he knew how much his death would change things. I don’t think he understood just how much you loved him, or how much I’d miss him. I used to look up to him, you know? But . . . I know you and me aren’t . . .” Eren stopped speaking. A pained look flashed in his eyes.  “Either way, no matter what, that ring was meant for you, so I wanted to give it to you.” A soft, miserable laugh of disbelief escaped you.  As smart as Levi, he was truly a fool if he thought moving on from someone like him would be so easy. No. Both he and Armin had left you forever changed. “I remember him promising me that I’d have a proper wedding with a proper ceremony. I didn’t know he wanted it to happen with someone who wasn’t him.” “Hey, don’t get the wrong idea,” Eren sat up a bit. “He did want that stuff with you, he just knew it couldn’t happen. That’s why he passed it on . . . to me.”  You nodded, indicating that you understood. And truly, you did. You understood just how cruel the world was. “Sometimes, I forget I’m not the only person grieving.” You reached out, touching Eren’s arm. “You know a thing or two about it as well, hm?” “Worst feeling in the world.” Eren suddenly sighed, masking his grief behind a false smile. “I guess I better get going. It’s late.” A frown appeared across your face. You wanted to ask him to stay, and knowing him, he would have, but you only stood up, getting ready to walk him out.  “Once all this is over, come find me, okay?” Eren smiled beautifully. No matter what, his grin could and would always make you go weak at the knees.  “I won’t make any promises,” you held onto one of the double doors as he stepped through.  “But thank you for coming over. It was nice. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.”

Eren gave you one last smile and made his way towards his car.

—

— CANADA, ONE WEEK LATER —

Connie knew it was a trap. 

A bearded guy was urging him to come into his family-owned bar, prattling on and on about how much he sought customers, and when Connie stepped into the dusty environment that smelt of wood, he knew something was off.

There was not a soul in the bar.

Connie sipped on the cheap bottle of beer, sleeved elbows pressed into the counter as the bartender watched him.

Connie cracked open a peanut. Sipped on his beverage. Listened to the soft music playing in the background. 

If this was a trap, just as his gut told him, then he wanted it to happen already because he was tired of this life. Tired of running. Tired of having nothing. 

The bar doors opened. Connie didn’t bother turning around, but he could hear it being locked.

Finally, he thought.

He could hear footsteps approaching, and he recognized them. It was the same rhythmic pattern of the person who once lived in his old mansion, walking up and down the halls, glancing into every room to see what he was doing. 

“I thought I told you I’d kill you if I ever saw your face again?” Connie shouted out, taking another swig of his beer.  

“And I told you that when you manipulate someone, you end up teaching them all of your tricks.” 

You made your way up to Connie, grabbing a seat on the stool next to him, crossing your legs as you smiled devilishly.

The bartender pulled out a gun, glaring at the former entrepreneur. 

He must’ve been some sort of bodyguard, as well as a shitty actor.

“You come here for revenge or some shit?” Connie rubbed the dark circles underneath his eyes. “Is that what this is? Are you trying to kill me now? ‘Cause I don’t think you have it in you.”

“Do you want me to try and kill you? Is that why you made it so easy for me to find you recently?” You tilted your head a bit. “I couldn’t piece together why, after all these years, would we suddenly be able to catch your face on camera. But it’s starting to make sense now.”

“I just wanted to see if what I heard was true. That you’ve turned out to be another version of me. Personal guards, business owner-”

“My businesses are greater than CS Records ever will be — or ever was, I should say. In such a short amount of time, I’m already more successful than you ever were,” you reached out, teasingly touching Connie’s shoulder. He could feel your hatred for him just in the way your fingertips graced his clothed skin.

“You can say that, but we’re the same, you and me. I started out only hurting people who hurt my friends and employees too. Manipulating people to make myself richer. Then, I started hurting anyone who made me look bad. All you need now is some fresh-faced, diamond-in-the-rough artist who’ll show up and ruin every-fucking-thing you worked hard to build. I suggest you find a hideout for yourself too.” 

Connie tried to take another swig of his beer, but the bottle was empty. 

“I had a great thing going until your ass came to Hollywood. Everyone was happy. Not just me, but my artists too. Then you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh? Why the fuck couldn’t you stay in New York?”

“I wish I stayed in New York too,” your voice was soft. “I wish I never met you.” 

 “Take it from me, Y/N.” For the first time since you arrived, Connie looked into your eyes. “Don’t fuck up like I did. Get your shit together . . . before it’s too late.” “Look who made words of encouragement their fun, new hobby,” you spoke with fake, sugary enthusiasm. “Keep working on that while you’re in prison.”

“What?” Connie furrowed his brows, his eyes darting over to the man with the gun. “You’re not gonna kill me?” 

“And put you out of your misery? No way,” you smiled cruelly, pushing his arm as if you were talking with a friend — chatting with a dear old pal. “No, see, what’s going to happen now is that you and I are both going to live, and we’ll both be miserable, because you’ll have nothing, and I’ll spend the rest of my life grieving. But, the only difference is that you’ll be behind bars, and I’ll be behind my office desks.”

You got up from your seat. 

“So, are you going to try to make a run for it, or will you make this nice and easy?”

“I’m not running.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I’m tired, Y/N.” Connie got up from his seat. “Please don’t send me back to prison. Just kill me or something . . . Please.”

Your mind was made up, that much was clear, but Connie figured that he’d still try his hardest to change your mind. 

As the images of prison flashed through his mind, he was certain, for a fact, that he would rather burn in hell. “Hearing you beg like that reminds me of when I begged you not to imprison me after my album release party. Remember that?” With a small, little laugh, you started to make your way towards the doors. 

As soon as you unlocked the doors and stepped through them, your team of security bombarded the tiny, old-fashioned bar, and successfully detained Connie.

After yet another week, the prison Levi had poured his money into years ago was more than willing to continue with the deal. Not that he had any ounce of power to influence anyone to free him, to begin with. 

But, after a chaotic session of trials, overwhelming evidence, and teary-eyed speeches, Connie Springer would die in prison.

And, more importantly, Armin Arlert and Levi Ackerman could rest in peace.

—

— ONE MONTH LATER —

You were nervous. 

Panicked, even. 

But, even so, you knocked on the light brown door to Eren’s childhood home, which was rather nice, given that his dad was a doctor.

Carla answered with a look of curiosity, wiping her hands off on a kitchen towel as she greeted you. 

Even though the Yeager family had briefly moved to Maine for their safety, Eren still owned their home, hopeful for days like these, in which they could come back. And here they were. Right where they belonged.

“Hi, is Eren here?” You asked with as much kindness as you could muster. 

“He sure is,” Carla stepped to the side, welcoming you into the foyer. “Eren! Come here!”

Eren often spent Sunday afternoons visiting his family, so you heard. It was a new habit, one that came to him after almost losing his life and having his mother’s safety put in danger.

So, as it was 1:30 on the last day of the weekend, you had sought him out here, and from down a hallway, he approached, an amused grin appearing once he realized you were here.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you said, glancing down at your shoes, then back up at him. “I know you’re spending time with your family and all, but I’m busy next weekend and the weekend after that, and weekdays are no better, so I was just wondering if I could . . . um . . .”

“Sure,” Eren agreed to whatever plans you hadn’t yet planned. “Let’s go.”

Minutes later, you and Eren were strolling down the street, side by side. Your eyes scanned his clothes. Something was rather different, and rather quickly, you pieced together what it was. He was wearing a white shirt with some sort of logo on it. His sweatpants were light blue.

Dressed only expecting to see his mother and father today, perhaps some cousins as well, certainly, but even so, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing what it symbolized.

“You’re not wearing black,” you pointed out. 

“Huh?” Eren looked down at his outfit. “Oh. Yeah. I love black clothes, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nice to not be forced to have to wear it, you know?”

He truly meant what he said long ago — that he was done living in the spotlight.

“What have you been doing lately? Since you’re not a rockstar anymore?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything.” 

“Those are two different things, Eren.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Eren kicked a rock, his hands in his pocket. “I’ve been hanging out with my family, traveling, trying new foods — oh, you ever try octopus before? Don’t eat it, you’re not missing anything — uh . . . what else . . . I’ve been playing guitar, which is pretty easy even with eight fingers . . .  I have time to watch movies now. I can nap. I don’t know, but I’m happy.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, I can tell. Trust me.”

Eren smiled gently. You were both silent for a second, then, he asked, “Why’d you wanna come see me?”

You hesitated to answer for a moment, but then, you decided to tell him the truth.

“Connie . . . he gave me a bit of a wakeup call. Told me that I was headed down the same path as him. In fact, he warned me to change. Can you believe that?”

For once, in the longest time, Eren felt grateful for Connie’s existence. As stupid as he was, the idiotic, murderous man was correct.

“He’s right,” Eren said.

“I know. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you all month, but I finally just got the courage. Trying to not be like him won’t be easy, but I’m . . . trying. I went to Levi and Armin’s graves. Told them they could rest peacefully now. I started therapy. I’m hanging out with you. I’m trying.”

Eren halted his footsteps. As soon as he heard a sniffle come from you, he moved in front of you, pulling you in for a hug as a few tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I’m proud of you,” Eren whispered. “I started therapy too. Why do you think I’ve started to become so wise? And you know what he told me? He said that grief becomes manageable. I hope his ass is right. He can afford steak, lobster, and caviar with how much money he’s squeezing outta me because I’m there every week.”

Lightly, you chuckled a bit, although it was more of a puff of air rather than a laugh. 

You weren’t a fool. There was, perhaps, something that could help you feel just a bit better, even if it couldn’t cure your problems completely.

“I think I need to leave L.A. for a little while, maybe for a month. Maybe a year.”

Eren pulled away from you, surprised to hear such a statement coming from you. Your therapist must have cost a fortune too if they were this  incredibly skilled. 

“I agree, but, where are you going?” Eren frowned with worry.

You shrugged. 

“I don’t know, but in a few weeks, I’m going to briefly trust my companies to Erwin and Jean until I return. I think I want to visit the south, maybe. Aside from touring with you, I’ve only been down there once, but I miss it.” Shyly — an emotion you hadn’t experienced in years, you asked Eren, “Do you want to come with me? Maybe?”

Eren smiled. 

He was far from southern. Couldn’t wrap his mind around the sweet tea obsession and being overly friendly to strangers at the grocery store, but he’d go to hell with you if you asked him to. Even now, a few weeks early, he was ready to head home and pack his bags. 

After your long walk, you returned to Eren’s childhood home and had dinner with his family.

—

— TENNESSEE —

As an artist, Eren had the ability to travel the world, as grand in size as it was. Flying from state to state and from country to country was a gift, truly, but he never had the opportunity to explore. To sight-see. To witness the way other people outside of Los Angeles lived their lives — something he was very interested in, as he was a nosy person.

While on tour, he was only able to see backstage dressing rooms, hotels, and stadiums. Nothing more, usually.

But, now, as you and him rode in the backseat of a car, staring at gorgeous mountains and colorful, beautiful trees, he had to admit that it was a much better view than the Hollywood sign. 

Even so, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the woman sitting beside him, staring out of the window with a soft smile.

Around two hours later, you and Eren arrived at a spacious, modern farmhouse with a black and brown exterior that you purchased solely for this trip.

“It’s nice, right? Perfect place to hide away for a while?” 

You started walking up the steps, and Eren followed as you continued to speak. “And, listen, I don’t expect you to want to stay the entire time, because, like I said, I plan to be here for a few months if not an entire year, so you can leave whenever you’d like.”

“It means a lot that you asked me,” Eren said. “If it’s alright with you, I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

—

The next three days were spent exploring the surrounding tourist attractions. Together, you and Eren admired nature on hiking trails, drove to Nashville to experience music festivals, and of course, introduced yourselves to southern cuisine.

It wasn’t a total escape from the world of flashing lights and cameras, of course, as you and Eren were both still celebrities. 

But, even the simplest disguises — sunglasses and a hat or hood — often prevented people from doing a double take, and you were both able to enjoy yourselves somewhat peacefully.

As the sun started to set, the sky fading from a soft blue to a mesmerizing soft orange, bright and quirky neon signs were now on full display. Nearby, country singers performed on the street with nothing but a nice voice and an acoustic guitar, drawing in small, happy crowds. 

People walked up and down the strip with their friends and families.

As you stood there, waiting patiently for Eren, you couldn’t help but admire them.

They all had someone. 

Loneliness was starting to creep back up within you like an old enemy, a subtle frown appearing on your face. But, just before those negative feelings could overwhelm the happiness you felt right now, Eren's voice snapped you back to your refreshing reality — unintentionally reminding you that you weren’t alone.

He was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Never had. 

Never will.

“Here,” he held out a tiny paper plate with peach cobbler on it. “Have you tried this before?”

Taking your plate as he glanced down at his own, you replied, “Yes. It’s really good!”

Your sudden excitement was all the convincing he needed. He bit into the sweet dessert, tasting the soft crust and sweet peaches. It was, indeed, a heartwarming meal, one that made him smile.

“I get why you wanted to come down here,” Eren said, going in for another bite as you took one as well. 

“See?” You sighed happily. “But anyway, tomorrow, I was thinking we could go canoeing. There’s a big lake nearby, and I’ve always wanted to try canoeing.”

“Okay,” Eren grinned.

“We can also go to a spa.” 

“Okay.”

“There’s also a cool restaurant I want to try.”

“Okay.”

Amusingly, you grinned, “is there any chance you want to count grains of sand with me too? You’re agreeing to everything right now. You’re the true definition of being down for whatever.”

“You knew that when I agreed to come to the south for a year on a whim,” Eren took another bite of his cobbler. “It’s nice to see you smile again, you know? You think I’m crazy enough to ruin that by turning down something you wanna do?”

“You’re adorable,” your compliment was mumbled, as, truly, it was something you meant to say in your head, but you spoke unintentionally, and Eren’s never-fading smile only brightened — adorably, of course.

Leaning down a bit, he softly kissed your cheek.

“You’re going to get peach cobbler on my face. That’s nasty.” 

He ignored your little comment, and kissed your cheek again, all because it made you smile.

—

When visiting a different state for longer than a couple of days, there comes a point when hopping from one tourist attraction to the next, trying an abundance of different foods, and relaxing near some sort of body of water had to briefly end to handle real-life adult tasks and responsibilities.

Typically, you would have had your live-in chef stock the fridge with groceries, and it had become a task that you were no longer familiar with doing. 

Every time you opened the refrigerator, there was a variety of food. Always.

However, during your attempts to heal your soul, you left your staff behind in Los Angeles, except for two bodyguards.

Even with Connie locked away, you still faced danger as a billionaire, celebrity, and human being. That was life, unfortunately.

Therefore, when you opened the fridge today, you were quite puzzled to see that — aside from three water bottles and a blue carton of eggs with only two remaining — it was empty.

“Eren,” you called out to the shirtless man in the living room, who just finished showering after working out in the home gym downstairs.

“Yeah?”

“I have to go to the grocery store, I’ll be right back.”

“No, I’ll go, you stay here.” Eren offered, already walking to his room to get fully dressed. 

“We could just go together.” Your suggestion went unanswered.

Shortly after, Eren left.

—

Two hours had passed. 

The closest grocery store wasn’t far. You hadn’t done such mundane things like grocery shopping in an incredibly long time, but it was just the two of you. 

There was no logical reason why he wasn’t back home yet.

You called him, twice, but after following the ringing sounds around your temporary home, you found his phone downstairs in the gym. He must’ve forgotten it while rushing out the door.

Maybe he was having trouble leaving the store. 

Maybe people realized who he was, and he was being bombarded by fans. Did he remember to wear a hat or hood? Did he have sunglasses with him? You couldn’t be certain.

Thirty more minutes passed.

You were pacing back and forth on the porch, waiting for a car to appear in your driveway.

What if he was sick of being around you, and he used this opportunity to escape back to California?

Why else would a man who has won Grammy awards be so excited and eager to go to Walmart?

What if he had gotten hurt? What if Connie did something, somehow? 

What if he had gotten into a car accident? Or a robbery?

What if he was dead?

“Jacob, can you please go to the local Walmart and see if Eren’s okay?” You said to one of your bodyguards who stood nearby, watching you pace around, biting your manicured nails.

“Yes ma’am.”

Moments later, his car drove off.

Your anxiety was all-consuming. The nausea you felt, swirling around in the pit of your stomach, made you consider hovering over the nearest toilet, but no. You couldn’t go back inside. Not now.

After what happened with Levi, never again would you assume that someone you cared for would return home after leaving.

Around twenty minutes drifted on by with you pacing, pacing, and pacing, only to stop when your phone rang. It was your bodyguard, informing you that he couldn’t find Eren at the nearest grocery store.

He promised to check again. Said he’d try a few other stores as well. He said something else too, but by then, you were sitting on the porch step, crying into your hands.

How guilty your other bodyguard felt — standing there, watching you. Rarely did you ever talk to him, and you hadn’t known anything about him aside from his name, which was Carter, but he was a sweet person, and he wanted to comfort his boss. But he couldn’t. His job was to watch over you and keep his eyes open, and only come in contact with you if it was to push or pull you out of harm’s way.

But you were crying. Sobbing. Assuming the worst.

When headlights came into view, you glanced up from your soaking-wet hands. Eren had barely parked the car before he hopped out — forgetting about the groceries entirely — and rushed up the steps before sitting by your side.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked with great worry, rubbing your back soothingly.

Both relief and great aggravation washed over you. 

“Where the hell were you, Eren? I was worried! How long does it take to buy a few groceries?”

Eren turned around, looking at your bodyguard. “Can you give us a minute?” 

Carter nodded and decided to busy himself by bringing the groceries in, putting them away, and telling the other bodyguard to come back.

“I’m sorry,” Eren spoke softly. “I took so long because I bought a lot of groceries, and I ended up talking to some people, and just taking my time. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re such an idiot,” you cried. “Why did you leave so eagerly, then? Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?”

Eren reached over, swiping his thumb across your cheek as he wiped your tears away. “Because I wanted to surprise you. I bought the stuff to make that salad you like. The one that reminds you of Armin? The strawberry chicken one? I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I thought you might’ve gotten hurt, or worse,” you sniffled. “Do you know how terrifying it is? Not knowing if someone you’re in love with will make it back home? Damn it, Eren . . .”

Eren pulled you in closer. From where your head rested near his neck and shoulder, you could feel just how fast his heart was beating.

Perhaps, it was from your confession, although, truthfully, it should have been a fact that he was well aware of. After all, Eren always had a place in your heart — something you told him repeatedly.

Love, in its truest and purest form, doesn’t ever simply die. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. You should know that by now.” Eren kissed your forehead. “And I’m in love with you too, but you should know that as well, right?”

A soft laugh escaped you.

When you pulled away from Eren, you stared into charming eyes that gazed into yours with nothing but love, and a tad bit of concern.

“What is it?” He asked.

Your lips were suddenly pressed against his before your new fear of being loved could overwhelm your desire to kiss him. And, god — when his hand cupped the side of your face, lips moving against yourself as if a lost piece of his soul was being restored, it felt as if you were both falling in love all over again, even if you were, perhaps, already there.

— One year later, Eren proposed. He had to outdo himself — create a romantic experience that would shame his former self, who married you in Las Vegas the first time around and tossed together a last-minute wedding.  Though, your marriage back then fit the wild love story you once both shared, but, even so, he had the pen once again, and he was determined to write this new fairytale properly.  And it would start with the perfect proposal. God, was he nervous. He arranged a beautiful display of twinkling fairy lights wrapped around gorgeous trees, flower petals spread on the ground, and he gathered a few musicians to play the violin as you both approached the desired spot. Much to your surprise, he got down on one knee, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gaze, and asked, “Will you marry me?” Eren rose to his feet and kissed you lovingly after you said yes.

— Leaving the South was like waking up from a dream — an amazing, beautiful dream, but, even so, you were determined to make your reality just as perfect. And it started with marrying Eren. Not yet had you returned to Los Angeles. Europe was your next destination, as it was the place where you and Eren were to be remarried. Much like your wedding to Connie, the memorable ceremony was held inside a gorgeous castle with lavish candle chandeliers and pretty flowers, esteemed guests, and a beautiful gown that graced your body — every immaculate detail that Levi had once imagined had come to life.  Upon seeing you in a gorgeous dress, tears streamed down Eren’s cheeks. He couldn’t believe his luck, getting the opportunity to marry you again. And Jean, who was his best man, having mended their friendship over the last few years, teared up a bit too out of complete and utter happiness for you both. They were all there to watch you walk down the aisle. Not only Jean, but Reiner, Hange, Erwin, Annie, Sasha, and even Mikasa — another friendship that was recently mended.  Loving vows were exchanged, romantic gazes cast upon one another. As you stared into the eyes of the man you would spend the rest of your life loving, you said, “I do.”  And you said it for the very last time.

—

No longer was your mansion in Los Angeles a place of loneliness. Eren had moved in, and your friends had visited quite often, filling your home with love and laughter, as it should be.  It wasn’t long before that very special night came, in which Eren thrust into you softly as he moaned, pressing kisses against your naked skin — touching his lips wherever he could. Never had he come so much in his life. He was almost embarrassed about the way he stuffed you, his pretty wife, and moaned your name like a prayer. That was why, although incredibly happy, he wasn’t surprised when you showed him a positive pregnancy test soon after. The best doctors in the world would guide you through your pregnancy.  Having miscarried before, it was tempting to let your pregnancy be consumed with nothing but fear and worry, but this time, you had someone to hold your hand. “I’m right here,” your husband often said. “I’ll always be here.” Giving birth in a hospital bed to a beautiful, healthy baby girl named Nia was one of the greatest, and most chaotic, days of your lives.  But Nia had a father who cried upon holding her, and a waiting room packed with family and friends who also adored her. She had you as well, a mother who would protect her and see to it that she wouldn’t ever know anything other than love and joy.  And thirteen years later, she was sitting outside on the luxurious patio with you, listening to you tell her your life story, which started with your old friend, and a tiny bakery in New York.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

🎟: @consuming-karma @lilvampirina @okaystopwhore @chrollohearttags @nanamochii @bunny2612 @cupids-soul @crazychaoticizzy @ramonathinks @averysmolbear @seishirogf @6sakusa @levin4nami @chaotic-on-main @sad-darksoul @gwapbby @katestrophes @ventdavi154 @lovelyless-fiction @svftackerman @musegonemad @moonmalice @inciteterr0r @honeybleed @zeninsbitch @purple-milk24 @itzgabz22 @mooomuu @micafecitoconpan @beaniebanby @anonymousme23 @theitchbbbb @skit-brentfaiyaz @princessos-blog @elliesbabygirl @the-mrs-steve-harrington @kittenbabe00 @magictrump @hetalia-tumbler @hon3y-c0mb @bol0-de-morang0 @thisisketchy @yoongirecs @allofffmypeaches @sasha-glass @getwaves @deluluvibes @p3nislawd @emery-333

[hmm-self-indulgence]

Michael Shelley x Gn!Reader

Read as a statement. Italics are Jon, and regular is You! Gender Neutral, congrats you are married, have graduated uni, and live in England. Statement given around mag 140. I’m going with the descriptions given on Fandom Wiki for Michael, and the classic interpretation of Helen (since she has no canon description).

Warnings! Intense language, traumatic experiences, major character loss, some almost sexual themes but no smut. Pretty much just PG-13 except for language and some monsterfucking elements. READER HAS SEMI BISEXUAL TENDENCIES (you get both distortions for the price of one!) Also, what's a timeline, never heard of her? So just general timeline fucking up for the sake of some fluff and angst. Mentions of religion and praying (kinda worshiping the spiral a la Manuela)! Drug mentions. Also, violence against Elias, but who cares! Some artistic liberties taken when it comes to a lot of things. I’ve never been to the UK so some stuff might be wrong. Technically unintentional spousal abuse, (gaslight gatekeep girlboss) plus technically kidnapping? Plus the reader is a bit mean to Jon. Also my friend proofread this and said it reminded her of twilight a bit so I hate that but I wanna post it anyway. I hate that I took unintentional inspiration from twilight but here we are anyway.

No one has the permission to repost this on any website. Do not use my content or claim it as your own! I do not own these characters, they are made, owned and are the property of Johnathan Sims. I am in no way profiting off of this and this is made with full respect to Rusty Quill.

Quick taglist @decora-peaches , @swordsandfools, sorry gang I'm a fool who needed the confidence to post this and its been quite a bit since I promised to post this.

Helen has decided to try to buy our friendship again, as she has brought me a statement. Where she got it from I have no idea, but I feel the need to record it. Anyway, Statement of (y/n) Shelley, regarding their life and experiences with their husband... Michael. Date written, unknown. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I'd like to first say that I hate your Archive and everything you stand for. You took the man I love from me twice and I despise you all for it, but Helen asked for it and I cannot deny her anything. So here is my statement, and I hope you choke on it.

I met Michael Shelley in our first year in University. We were in a maths class together. We had finals coming up and a handful of our classmates wanted to meet up at the south library to practice together later in the day. The study session ran extremely late, and it was dark when I left the building. He must have seen my hesitance and offered to walk me back to my dorm, and I guess we hit it off.

We went out quite a lot, and he was so sweet and always listened to what I had to say. He was occasionally forgetful, but he never made me feel like I was

Michael always had this… obsession with the unnatural. He told me what happened to his friend when he was a child, and I believed him well enough. I didn't believe in ghosts or ghouls or any of that lot, but he did. Michael heard that the Magnus Institute was hiring, and before I knew it he had dropped out and started working there full time. I was surprised, but honestly I didn’t think much of it at the time because he was so happy to have that damn job.

My parents were... not thrilled with Michael. To them, he was too quiet and, as you know, working for the Magnus Institute isn't the most glorious or well paying job, and my parents were worried that he was crazy. To be honest, he wasn't all there when I was with him, he always seemed to be a world away. But that didn't matter to me. He was mine, and we loved each other.

He proposed at my graduation, and we got married a few months later. The wedding was a small thing, his parents didn't come and mine showed up begrudgingly, so it was mostly just a few friends and his two of his coworkers that showed up in the end. Michael was so damn happy to see Emma and Eric. Eric even brought his little boy with him. It was the happiest day of our lives, I don’t think I ever saw Michael smile as much as he had that day.

We had a small apartment right between our workplaces. It was a bit of a trip for both of us, but I don't think either of us minded. He went on a few trips for the institute, so when he told me he was going north with Gertrude I didn’t see anything the matter with it. I helped him pack some warm clothes, and we had dinner before he left. Nothing… Nothing seemed wrong at first. I was used to him not being able to talk when he was on his trips, but after 3 weeks of silence went by I was scared. I got the letter the next day. “The Magnus Institute regrets to inform you that Michael Shelley has passed away. Our deepest condolences, Elias Bouchard.”

I went to the institute to get answers, storming my way into Elias’s office. He didn't even have the kindness to look shocked or even the slightest bit remorseful. Didn’t say shit about it either, just that he was dead. I asked about his body, if there was anything that could be buried or just anything about what happened. He just… stared at me, just saying that Michael was dead and that the institute was sorry.

I don’t remember much about what happened next, but I remember feeling his weasley little neck in my hands as I tried to squeeze the answers out of him. Security pulled me away and when he caught his breath he told me he wouldn’t press charges, but that I had to leave and not come back. As I was escorted out of the building, I saw Gertrude and Emma staring at me with those blank eyes. I begged her to tell me anything about Michael, anything at all and that I knew she was with him on that trip. Nothing made her react at all, but I swear she flinched when I asked if she killed him. I don’t know how I got home that day.

I prayed that day. I prayed that the institute was wrong, that Michael was alive, that this was just a sick fucking joke. But it wasn't, and I had to bury an empty box alone a few days later. Work gave me a few weeks off that were spent practically catatonic in our bed. People came by, friends, my parents, but they couldn’t bring him back to me or fill the empty hole that was left in my life. It's strange, you never realize how dependent you are on a person until they suddenly leave, no warning. It’s like a crutch being kicked out from under a missing limb, but you never stop falling.

But you don’t deserve my grief, my sadness, you already know what you did. You don’t want to know about my Michael, you want to know about the Michael you created. For Helen I will indulge you. I first saw the yellow door about three months after he passed. I was grieving, and that makes us so much more foolish. I had been walking home after work and I was lost in my own head, taking turns and alleys I hadn't ever seen before. I think I was around Westminster when it happened. Some men had tried to grab my purse, and I ran.

I heard their footsteps following me as I ran through the small, dark alleys, my shoes smacked against the slippery cobblestone and I was so afraid. I was ahead of them by a bit, and I started banging on doors, begging for someone to help me, but no one answered. No lights were on in any of the homes and I felt my heart hammering in my throat threatening to escape. Then I saw it, fused into a cobblestone fence. A bright yellow door at the end of the alley, just barely opened so a sliver of light peaked through. I ran towards it, running through it before slamming the door behind me. I never heard anything from the other side of the door.

When the adrenaline died off I noticed the hallway. The walls were an obnoxious mix of beige and yellow. There were these mirrors in the hallway, kind of like the mirrors at carnivals that distort your body and make you look different. Everything hurt to look at, and the lights were so bright I was getting a migraine. The place made me feel like I was on a LSD trip. That wasn't even the strangest thing though. In my peripheral vision I kept seeing… something. It only appeared where I couldn't focus on it. I tried to go back to the door I came from, but It wouldn't budge, and I never got a clear view of what was there so I started walking. After a few minutes of the endless nauseating hallways I saw another door.

I don't know what I expected when I opened the door, maybe more weird hallways, but never in a million years did I expect it to be my own apartment on the other side. I was frozen in place, shocked and so, so afraid when I felt something grip my shoulder strongly, jerking me forward and into my bedroom before the yellow door slammed shut with a bang. And when I looked back there was no door.

I told myself I was hallucinating. That something was wrong and it was all just a bad dream. I spent the whole night convincing myself I was going mental. Lying to myself worked, and I was so close to believing it when I saw the bruise on my skin under where I was shoved. Some part of that night had to have been true, I had no fucking clue what really happened.

Looking back it was so stupid of me. So fucking stupid but I needed to know what the hell happened that night. I started looking for danger, going into darker areas later in the night. I walked around with fake jewelry that looked nice enough from far away to entice some lowlife thief. I got robbed twice, got a few scrapes and bruises but the door didn’t show up again. Kept telling myself it was grief, maybe some disorder or another that stemmed from that first night.

I don't know how it was different from that night, but maybe it knew they wouldn't have hurt me too bad, so the door left me to my own devices, or maybe I’m just insane..

I wasn't expecting a door when I saw it next. There had been a break-in near my work, and a police officer came by to ask us some questions. The officer was this real brute of a man, tall enough that he had to duck to get into the shop. I don’t remember his name, but I didn't like the look of him. Of course I answered the questions, but the officer just started getting closer and closer. I was scared and closed my eyes for just a second, and when I opened them the yellow door was to my right, where a window was supposed to be. I bolted straight into the door, I don't even know if the officer followed me. But the door opened and the nauseating hallway was there again.

When I heard the door latch I took a moment to breathe. The strange figure appeared in my peripherals again, always disappearing when I tried to focus on it. I called out to it, asking where I was and what was going on. Looking down the hallway I saw something tap the mirror, like it was poking it from inside. I moved closer until I saw the horrible hand gripping the inside of the mirror. They weren't hands, hands don't have that many bones, hands aren't that long or sharp but… there they were. I didn’t even realize I was standing in front of it until I felt that strange weight on my shoulder again. I turned around quickly but nothing was there, and turning around I almost screamed. My reflection was there, but it wasn't alone. Whatever was connected to those claws resting on my shoulders looked almost like Michael. I could feel the weight on my shoulders, but the thing with Michael’s face was only in the mirror.

Michael wasn't originally a tall man, but now he almost had to bend over to fit his entire frame in the mirror. Michael didn't have hands like that, Michael’s smile was never that large, and most importantly, Michael wasn't alive. But here stood the thing that was and wasn't my husband. But when he said hello I just broke down. I told him everything and begged him to stay by my side. He said he had left, but that which both is and isn't him has been here. He said he would stay, and I said that I loved him. I don’t think he loved me, not the… the new version of him. I don't even think he had any emotions left at the end. I think there was just enough Michael to remember me.

I knew he wasn't exactly like my Michael, but he was close enough to make me happy. I knew he was hurting people, the hallways weren’t silent, and I heard screaming occasionally. There were a lot of mirrors in his doors, and sometimes I saw faces in them, real normal faces. I wanted him back, even as he had become he was still my Michael.

His door was in our… my apartment some days. Oftentimes it wouldn't even open, but it was just a comforting presence. His door, his shenanigans, it all just became my new life. He wasn't Michael, but he was enough like him to make the grief go away. If I fooled myself enough it almost felt normal again, like when we were first married. He didn't speak much, he just came and went like a house cat. I would speak to him, or at least his door when I was particularly lonely.

There were times he acted like his old self. Some days he would go through the motions of making coffee, only to stare at it in distaste before he disappeared.

I would see him standing in our apartment, just staring at a wall or going through one of his old routines. Some nights I would wake up to see him staring at me from the foot of our bed. I even found some of his gold hair on his pillow again. We lived that way for around seven years. In that time, nothing really changed, we just inhabited the same area. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than living without him, so I didn't mind.

A few months before he disappeared, again, he came back with blood on his hands. I tried to ask what happened, but all he would say was that he “poked the eye”, and I assume that means it's your lot. He seemed so pleased with himself so I didn't ask any more questions. That's when things got bad again.

I didn't see him for a few weeks, and I was worried, not even his door was here. I was so afraid he was gone again, and I worried I was insane again. I prayed, not to God this time, no, I prayed to the hallways and the ever changing fractals. I prayed to the spiral Michael mentioned. I offered worship and my love in exchange for any part of my lover back. And this time someone answered.

There was a figure in my room again, but it wasn't Michael. It was a woman I came to know as Helen. She was around the same height as my new Michael, and her voice was just as disorienting and alluring as my husband. I had to mourn Michael twice, but Helen filled in the gaps he left very well. Helen didn't know much about me, only that she felt pulled towards me, but she was determined to learn.

Helen tried to be a person more than Michael did at the end. Michael would never stay long, but Helen would spend hours in our apartment, just sitting or watching me. I would see her doors throughout my day, always in the most impossible places. She told me once it was just to see me smile, can you believe that? Michael did the same thing, and I adore her for this kindness. She is such a kind presence, and I care for her.

It's strange, in another life I think I could love her the way I love Michael. But this is not the life we are in, and my heart belongs to Michael. You took him from me, and I will never forgive you for that, your eyes will be blind one day and you will be left with nothing, just like me.

Statement… ends. Helen, why did she give this to me. What does this mean? I asked Elias, and apparently some of this is verified. Michael did pass away at this time, and he was married to one Mx. (Y/N) Shelley. I have elected not to reach out to their family, as if this is true, then reaching out would only end poorly. I… I need to talk to Helen.

[bardic-tales]

Alone in the Dark

Novel: Fall of Darth Jadus

Pairing: m!SI (Darth Jadus / Darth Notkis) x f!IA (Cipher Nine / Cynthia Prescost)

Fandom: Star Wars, The Old Republic

Word Count: 606

Warnings: implied child abuse, implied rape, au:canon divergent

Rating: Mature

Premise: Cynthia Prescost, an Imperial Agent who goes by the moniker Cipher Nine, confronts her lover, Darth Jadus. A secret is spilled out.

Source: Angst Prompt Generator

Tag List: @arrthurpendragon @perasperaadastrawriting @starryeyes2000

If you would like to to be on my tag list for notifications on my fan fiction, please let me know. If you wish to be taken off this taglist, feel free to tell me!

ALONE IN THE DARK

1.

“I was alone!” she howled at the Sith before her. “When I truly needed you, you disappeared! So, you don’t know what I have been through! You. Don’t. Know!”

“Cynthia, I know — ”

“You don’t know! How could you know what happened to me?!” She cut Darth Jadus off as she dug her fingernails into her palm. This trick worked to distract her when her parents locked her in her childhood bedroom when she was younger. Presently, it did nothing.

As he bent down, Jadus set a holopad on the table next to them. She was too irate to see that he was carefully examining holo-news or read the breaking headlines about an attack on the distant planet of Bespin. Authorities said none survived.

She trembled, the shaking barely discernible to the naked eye, but Jadus knew all her idiosyncrasies. He immediately knew something was wrong. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“I knew they would hurt me,” she cried out, sobbing as those memories took hold of her as they often did now, “but I never thought that they would do that. How could anyone predict they would do that?”

“No one could,” Jadus murmured, his voice no higher than a melodic purr. He wiped one of her tears away with his hand, the moisture leaving a spot behind on the ebony-colored clawed glove. “You have experienced one of the worst things that a person could endure. You don’t need my permission to mourn.

“And you need not fear a punishment for this outburst either, Cyn. You’re not the reason that happened, but you need to do whatever you can to heal from it. Even if that means you must leave me and be by yourself for a bit. I have no use for someone who’s broken.”

Although his words were harsh, there was a gentleness to them. Cynthia couldn’t fault his reasoning. In her current state, they were no closer to realizing his glorious empire than they were after fate reunited them.

I can’t even look at him without remembering what happened. This was not Jadus’ fault. If she were honest with herself, every man reminded her of those who captured her, those who took torture too far. He was only a stand in for the ones who took part in her abuse.

She breathed in and out. Her breaths fell rapidly on each other, and each stopped with a choked sob. As time passed, her anxiety rose until it reached its tipping point.

I can’t breathe, Cynthia panicked. Again, her air was cut off with a choked sob.

“Be at ease,” he tried to soothe her as he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. No amount of comfort would make it okay. “All who participated in such a plan will perish by my hand. I give you my word that they will not escape me.”

Although Imperial Intelligence was no more and Sith Intelligence rose to take its place, Jadus would hunt down all who were responsible for what happened over the skies of Corellia.

The Sith always reveled in the hunt. This time would be no different, and all of those she considered her friends were in danger from his never-ending rage.

I can’t allow him to figure out who was responsible. Shara was the one in most danger should he look into the plan that they all agreed to. He would murder the former Watcher Two and Keeper, but most importantly to Cynthia, one of her few friends.

[abduct-me-helen]

r/legaladvice

Posted by u/ebouchard 2 months ago

My husband has embarrassed me at the annual institute holiday party for the last time. I want another divorce.

My husband, soon to be ex-husband if all goes as planned, was leering at an archival assistant the other day. He also had a bit too much to drink, and started talking about various…personal activities that I would’ve preferred be undisclosed. Now, I’ve divorced him before, but this time he seems fit to antagonize me and not sign the papers. Not just that, but he’s also disappeared, which isn’t uncommon but is still frustrating when I’m trying to divorce him. He always gets in a hissy fit when I divorce him, but this time he’s just being petty.

Is there a way to divorce him without needing to track him down in order to have him sign the papers? He’s the captain of a ship and when he gets…petulant, he often sails for a few months before returning to his moorhouse. During these times, it’s notoriously hard to contact him, much less find him.

tl;dr: my husband ran away in an attempt to be petty and now I can’t divorce him. What do I do?

Edit: Please stop making remarks on the healthiness of our relationship. It’s none of your business, and we are perfectly fine.

Edit: We got divorced again since I made the first post.

Edit: We are now remarried again.

 crawbed008 3.1k points · 2 weeks ago

    | He always gets in a hissy fit when I divorce him, but this time he’s just being petty.

wait, what do you mean by “always”??

     ebouchard 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

             whenever I try to divorce him, he acts petulant.

                  sisenore_k 675 points · 2 weeks ago

                          do you divorce him often lmao???

                                    ebouchard 1.2k points · 2 weeks ago

                                        yes.

                          [expand]

getsome_69 352 points · 1 week ago

            op how many times have you two gotten divorced so far

                 ebouchard 2.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                       six, though there were a few we didn’t go through on legally.

                              kokobura2 126 points · 2 weeks ago

                                        SIX??? good god op why do you even keep remarrying

                                              ebouchard 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

                                                      money.

                                           stonks 782 points · 2 weeks ago

i know op in rl and the real reason is that they’re the    

only people willing to put up with each other

                                                                                   [expand]

r/relationship_advice

Posted by u/bigboyman 1 month ago

I (48M) feel like my husband is very clingy and I’m a person who needs solitude to survive. What should I do?

My husband is always talking to me. I just want to be left alone, but he just keeps on scheming. He’s always ranting about hiding tapes and the watcher’s crown and it is getting tedious having to listen to his, well, words in general.

How should I ask for more space?

 poorandtiredbutyolo 2.2k points · 2 weeks ago

I have a clingy partner too, and what I do is set clear boundaries. I also make sure to set time towards my partner outside of those times when I’m alone, like having dinner every night and having movie/games night once a week.

      bigboyman 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

           I interact with him far less already then I would if I did that.

                   asunachan3 203 points · 2 weeks ago

                        how much do you talk to him?                                   

                                     bigboyman 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

                                               at least once every three months

asunachan3 203 points · 2 weeks ago

                                                                   and you’re MARRIED?!???

                                                                            bigboyman 1.2k points · 2 weeks ago

I know, it’s a lot. You see why I can’t stand him being so clingy?

[expand]

 tania9 421 points · 2 weeks ago

    from reading the replies, I can only assume you hate your husband.

                bigboyman 1k points · 2 weeks ago

                                despise, actually.

 [expand]

Pastasauceandspagett 608 points · 1 month ago

      I don’t know how OP could possibly salvage this relationship if they hate each other and only talk every three months.

bigboyman 4.2k points · 1 week ago

                                The wedding is in four days.

 Allicecarter2002 4.2k points · 1 week ago

                               I thought you were already married??

                                                                      bigboyman 4.2k points · 1 week ago

oh, we got divorced about a week after I made the post and then he proposed again a week after that.

                                                                                                 [expand]

 r/pettyrevenge

Posted by u/notjonnydville 3 weeks ago

I had my archival assistants spit in his tea.

My boss is a huge bastard. He is just, awful. He always looks like you’re amusing him but in that kind of way where he’s looking like you like a meal. He is just a horrible human being. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed someone. That’s the kind of person he is.

Anyway, I usually try to keep a professional relationship with my assistants but a few nights ago they invited me to go out for drinks with them and my friend blackmailed me into it. We got hammered. It was a truly…special experience. Ever since then, I’ve been on better terms with them. We even have a groupchat.

The situation goes like this: he’s been ranting to me for the last hour about things I ALREADY KNOW in that pompous, annoying voice of his. Anyway, I texted one of my assistants, I’ll call him M, and M comes in mid rant. I very sternly ask “why haven’t you made [our boss’s name, I’ll refer to him as E] tea yet?”

I kind of put him on the spot and he just stayed there with his jaw dropped. I told him to go make E a cup of tea, so he scurries out.

I wait about 30 seconds and then discretely text the groupchat: “spit in his tea M.”

Anyway, they go absolutely *ballistic* and T, another one of my assistants, sprints halfway across the building (I hear he even knocked into our secretary), just to spit in E’s tea too. My last assistant is a bit wearier but she does it too.

M comes back with the tea and hands it to E before quickly leaving. A few minutes pass and E still hasn’t touched his tea.

So I remind him that M makes very good tea and he’d be disappointed if E didn’t drink it.

There is a quiet battle of wills.

Now, I don’t know how to put this without sounding insane, but our boss…he just *knows* things. He’s psychic, or something like that. There is absolutely NO way he didn’t know the tea was messed with. He knows, he knows I know, and we silently stare at each other without moving.

Finally, *finally*, still making direct eye contact with me, he takes a sip of his tea and purses his lips. I ask him if he isn’t thirsty.

He says he isn’t, and leaves the room. I never did find out what happened to that tea.

tl;dr: I got my archival assistants to spit in my asshole bosses’ tea. It was glorious.

leavemealone 2k points · 2 weeks ago

    holy *shit*, OP, did you ever get in trouble????

           notjonnydville 2.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                   he didn’t have any evidence, so no.

maya_herse331 782 points · 1 week

    did he ever try to get revenge?

           notjonnydville 7.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                   he framed me for murder, but I’m still not sure if that was directly related.

                  [expand]

[needleandhammer]

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

[maraudersftw]

hi claudia! if you're accepting prompts, I'd love to see your take on either 'james thinks they're fake dating but they're actually really dating' or 'james isn't even aware that they're dating' because I really like an oblivious!james 😂

Hi, beautiful! This is such a classic prompt, and I had a blast writing for it. Combined both your options to put together something that reeks of obliviousness. Hope you enjoy!

Oblivious

Read on: AO3 || FFN

He's quite ashamed of the high-pitched yelp that leaves his lips, it's true.

But James doesn't think there's any other reaction to be expected when one finds oneself unceremoniously shoved against the wall of an empty alcove. The surprise only mounts at the feeling of a body, soft and warm, pressing against the front of his chest and stomach and lower, but dissolves when he registers the familiar feel of it. Of her.

"Evans," he groans, one hand unconsciously tangling in the length of her long, thick hair. "What—"

But she doesn't tell him what; the flash of a lethal smirk and dancing green eyes are all he's allowed to witness before she's got her lips on his, got her tongue prying his mouth open, her hands running through his hair and rumpling his uniform shirt without care.

James finds he doesn't care much for decorum himself.

"Merlin—" he kisses her back, brows scrunching at how easily everything about her overwhelms him, even when she's barely trying. The sweet smell of her, the way she pulls in breath, tugs at his lower lip, all of it magic more real than he's known. He tries to pull away, head muddled with some strange cloud of intoxication. "Fuck, Evans, I can't—"

"Are you sure?" She grins wickedly, pressing closer and leaving no room for doubt that she feels him, feels his eagerness. "Looks to me like you really can."

He strokes a thumb over her jaw, resistance waning already. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Uh oh." Lily leans back slightly, one eyebrow cocked even as she smiles easily. "That sounds ominous."

James's heart thumps, already against the idea, but he knows he has to do this now. It's been three months since he'd first found himself on the other end of Lily's glorious, wandering hands after she'd told sixth year Gryffindor, Jonathan Jenkins, that she was dating James when he'd refused to leave her alone despite multiple refusals. And though that first kiss had been quick and chaste, with a profuse apology from her right after Jenkins had left the common room in a huff, things had spiralled out of control. They hadn't expected Jenkins to be such a fucking gossip, and by the end of the day, the news that James Potter and Lily Evans were dating had penetrated ears everywhere in the castle.

When Lily had asked him to play along for a bit until there was no more danger of Jenkins hounding her like a wolf, she'd thought he'd been doing her a favour.

If he'd been a normal friend and not secretly in love with her, James supposes it would've been a favour.

But now—three months down the line—he's gotten greedier. He no longer just wants Lily to keep snogging him. He wants her fully, publicly; no pretences.

Typical of him to want to ruin the one good thing he has with her now, after seven years of struggle.

"Hello?" Lily pulls at his tie, jerking him out of his thoughts. She's still smiling, though a concerned light has entered her eyes now. "Rather cruel of you to keep me hanging here with such dreaded anticipation."

He's forgotten words. "Um."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

James looks up and away at the sound of that voice, finding Sirius sauntering down the corridor, the Marauder's Map in his hands. Lily pulls away a bit at his appearance, but her palm stays firmly planted against James's stomach. "'lo, Sirius."

"You're bloody late for Transfiguration," he accuses, grey eyes narrowed, and James is finally reminded of the reason he'd been walking down this shortcut in the first place. "Thought I'd come find you two, given that neither of you can be counted upon to keep your head on straight these days."

"We've no reason to." Lily shrugs, grinning. "Head duties."

"It's McGonagall."

"She likes us," James supplies.

"Fucking unfair," Sirius grumbles, pocketing the parchment as he walks away. "You're just as bad as Prongs, Evans. Worse!"

Lily laughs at his disappearing form before turning back to him. "Reckon he might be right."

James inhales, misery eating his insides. "Lily, I—I can't do this anymore."

It takes a few seconds, but then her smile falls, brows stitch together, hands dropping. "Can't do this? What—what do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?"

"No!" His hand jumps to his hair, heart instantly loathing the upset look on her face he's brought on. "I mean, I can't break up with you if we were never together anyway."

But Lily's frown only deepens at that. "James, what—" she shakes her head. "What the bloody hell are you saying?"

"That this is too difficult! All this confusion and pretending to be with you when I know none of it's real—when I know what I feel is real. I'm just—" he stops, insides twisting together. "I'm sorry, okay? I like you too much to keep this going. I thought I could've been happy with pretending to be your boyfriend, but I'm not. Not anymore."

"Now hold on a fucking second!" Lily reels back, eyes so wide and shocked that it gives him pause. "What do you mean by pretending to be my boyfriend? You are my boyfriend!"

"Yeah, but not really."

"James." She slams him back against the wall, hand on his chest almost angry in its force. "What the hell are you saying? I asked you out last week. In the Great Hall?"

"That was—" he's shaking his head, dismissal ready on the tip of his tongue, when the scene repays in his mind. Lily had stopped him mid-meal with a squeeze on his arm and asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her this month. And though there had been a new shyness to her expression then, James had assumed it'd been for the benefit of their friends, who couldn't stop grinning and laughing and talking about turned tables. "That was...real?"

Her jaw has unhinged, disbelief shining clear in her eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me? So, you've been thinking we were pretend-dating all this time?" He stays silent. "Oh my God, James. Why the hell would I be accosting you in hallways and snogging you, then?"

"Because...I'm a good kisser?"

Lily takes two steps back, shakes her head again. "Hang on, are we back in 1975? Is this fifth year?"

But James laughs, relief and euphoria mixing together to create a massive wave of emotion that has him reaching forward and pulling her back to him. His fingers grip her neck, her hip, and he ghosts his lips over the flush of her cheeks. "I've been going out with Lily Evans for a week."

"I don't think that counts anymore."

"Shh." He grins into her skin. "Don't ruin the moment."

"I'm ruining it? When you're the one who—" Her complaints die out against his mouth with his strategically placed kiss, which James figures he's allowed to do now, given that he's her boyfriend and all that. Lily stops for a beat to huff the words out. "Two minutes. Then Transfiguration."

"You're brilliant."

"You're a tosser."

[awesomerextyphoon]

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy! 

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader 

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule  of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

@lookiamtrying @jtargaryen18 @sapphirescrolls @jobean12-blog @sweeterthanthis @gotnofucks @mcudarklibrary@saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @navegandoaciegas @stargazingfangirl18 @opheliadawnwalker3 @tilltheendwilliwritee  @imanuglywombat @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @navybrat817 @anyatheladyclown @buckysbunny @nacho-bucky @donutloverxo @stephanieromanoff @threeminutesoflife @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight @chixkencxrry @hurricanerin @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil @captain–barnes @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thebanprincess @winteralpine @leslie2898 @buttercandy16 @propertyofpoeandbucky @hevans-angel @thorfanficwriter @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @syntheticavenger @phant0m-queen @tuiccim​ @blueberrythor​ @river-soul @justthehiddleswrites @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

[tth-pdf]

Burning for love; JJK [02]

Contents: Smut, like a little heavy, but just a little, this just started, dirty talk, supernatural, romance, fluff and another painfully unedited chapter.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x Omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come and find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello little ones, I’m really sorry about this chapter because don’t know if this is what you were waiting for but mainly for the time that I promised before but it actually took me more than I thought and this is a tiny bit longer than what I was used to, so hope this makes something for you, thank you for reading! 😭😭😔😔🥺🥺💖💖

Jungkook wasn’t feeling himself that day and the fact that he did’t really knew what was happening with his mind was not really great, all that plus that attitude of yours adopted after knowing the truth behind the bond between your (by that time) unknown mate, so after that one and only night that you let him have you for himself and just himself he knew that he would never had enough of you. Ever since he was just a little pup learning how to shift, watching you so timid, behind your mom’s legs, smaller in size than him and afraid that you wouldn’t be able to have friends, but in fact every single one of the pups around you wanted to be your friend, your glow was just like that, so attracting even as a kid but sometimes you were a little overwhelmed with the attention, almost on the verge of tears, even at that time, being so little old he would feel the need to drop everything he was doing and just held you, maybe a little kiss on the cheek, but just with you, he would cringe if he had to kiss other girls cheek, he wanted to protect you. So his mother knew before himself, and she would just watch with heart eyes, eventually she would explain to him the paths that the moon weaves on her own to reunite two souls destined to be one, and he thought he was dreaming, but he had to wait, until you were ready. You were always good friends, not too close since you were still too shy, just enough to let him scent you every now and then, let him walk you home and even held your hand in the way to end with just a tiny hug but he started to grow up and since he was two years older than you he presented as an alpha first, he had to learn what a heat was, the pain of being incapable of touching you and showing you how much he wanted to spend his life with you, the pain that caused by having you so close but so far away. His mother and father were watching with concern and living the difficulties with him, everything was tolerable until Jungkook turned eighteen, his wolf becoming stronger and more demanding, clawing at him to come and get you but a little part of his brain reminded him that you were only sixteen and not prepared yet, so his parents, with the intention of distracting his mind sent him away to a camp were other future pack leaders trained to make the best of their abilities and it actually worked, but when he was back, a year and a half later, you being a young lady with new fucking aromas, it felt like you were a damn drug, your hormones changed and you were almost ready, but he couldn’t do anything about his desire so he walked away from you and you thought that he hated you, that somehow he changed his mind about you all this time by himself but boy, you couldn’t be more wrong. You tried, you really tried, tried to forget about how he scented you, kept an eye on you in case you would need help, little gazes around, expressing something without the need of words, tried to forget his puppy eyes and that pretty smile of his, not even mentioning the protective bubble that somehow he manages to create for you, but when you thought that every little detail was finally out of your mind your omega blood kicked you in the ribs and the dreams started to come and go, your mind understanding all the feelings that you had with him, but you didn’t wanted it that way, you wanted to be paired with someone simple, just like you, not really wanting to be the center of attention and being with Jungkook just meant getting hateful glances from the pretty omegas around, Jungkook was wanted in more that one way and transporting both of your thoughts to right now, this moment, you wrapped around his hard body as if your life depended on it, reminded you that after all you would be the one he held at the end of the day, always.

It’s to this point that you don’t have idea how both of you ended in what you supposed is his room or at least a place where he spends a lot of time, judging only by the incredible and strong scent of him everywhere.

“Don’t worry my pretty angel, I built this place just for you. I knew since the very first moment I laid eyes on you that you will be mine and a good alpha is the one who takes good care of his omega, right?”

If your mind was gone before now you feel like floating, but at the same time all that’s in your mind is him, him, him and him alone.

He’s caressing your cheek while he’s talking, the timbre of his voice like silk hugging your sense of hearing, your sense of touch screaming for you to past your fingertips between his silky hair strands and to trace his lips, your sense of taste aching to know every single one of his flavors and your sense of smell… Oh hell, that blessing of a powerful sense of smell, sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse, but right now there’s nothing more pleasant for the omega blood running through your veins than that, you wish you could melt with him, right now you feel like its not enough, even with you straddling him, nose buried deep in his scent gland and rubbing yourself on him.

“Pretty girl is having a hard time, isn’t she, where do you want me to touch, huh, honey?”

You couldn’t wait any longer so instantly after he finished that words your hand took his to tease yourself a little, closed eyes while you traveled his hand in the middle of your chest, down your tummy and finally over your hot and aching center.

“Gods above, I swear I can smell every little detail, have I triggered your rut sweet baby?”

You felt like simple jello between the fingers of your seductive lover.

“You want me to rub you over all this layers of clothes, don’t you want me to use my mouth on this glorious cunt of yours, knock you up with a healthy litter of pups, with this amazing tits to drink from, gods, such a dream for your alpha”

There wasn’t any rational thoughts in your mind right now, everything was kind of too much, the roughness of the sheets under both of you, the roughness of his fingers, everything was too hot.

“You made me wait so long for you. My little omega does not have idea of the pain I used to feel just by seeing you smile and blush, felt like a sin to me, smelling like one too”

By the time he’s saying that he was changing positions kneeling you right in front of his pretty thighs.

“I’m really sorry for you puppy, but you will have to wait just like me back then”

You were slightly confused, since your mind was all over your man and suddenly losing his warm touch when he kneel you before him.

“Touch me now little one, touch me with that silky hands, put that pretty mouth of yours on me”

You were gone again, you have never sucked someone off but you were entirely being guided by the heat of the moment and natural instincts.

“Pull me out of the pants angel”

You did as you were commanded, a pretty long length was released in front of your eyes, making you salivate just at the mere view, flushed and veiny, definitely pretty.

“What should I…”

Jungkook could only smile at you with that beautiful glint in the eyes, possessiveness.

“Lick me sweet angel, as if I was your favorite sweet”

Once again you obeyed the orders of your alpha, licking a stripe up his pretty cock just to add a little suck to the dripping head, making him release a loud moan, hands instantly grabbing your hair and guiding your head up and down.

“So good baby, such a good girl, little obedient bitch for the one who owns you, suck a little harder baby, not gonna break”

You did it and he let his head fall back, letting you see his neck, his Adam’s apple bob, more veins appearing in his perfect skin but what caught your eye was a single and simple little place, where you knew he had his scent glands, your little heaven in other words, guided just by the thought of it your canines started to grow in size, wanted to mark what was by the law of the moon yours, but snapped back to reality when you heard him hiss in pain, making him met you worry eyes.

“Hey little one, careful there, it hurst a little bad if you use that fierce canines, you will get what you want if I think you deserve that, so work hard”

His eyes were telling you to behave and to keep going so you attached your lips once more to the head of his length licking and sucking what he had to offer for you, taking little breaks to just breathe a little deeper, only for him to grab again your head and stuffed your mouth full, rough and encouraging him to just go deeper, choking you.

“That’s right sweet angel, choke on that cock, hurt a little that throat of yours just for tomorrow to remember that your big bad aloha did it”

He was loosing himself a little too quickly without giving you nothing, so he separated you from his core, watching with love and lustful eyes the way his cock was connected to your lips by a mixture of his precum and your saliva.

“Bring yourself over here precious thing and let me have a taste of you”

Legs guided purely by the desire burning inside your body, not even thinking twice and throwing yourself in the mattress , imagining already the worship of your beloved mate, shyness suddenly hitting you hard and attempting to close your legs and hide your burning core from hungry eyes.

“Come on sweet girl, don’t be so shy when seconds ago you were all over my cock, I will show you exactly how perfect I am for you so you don’t have that stupid ideas again, of giving yourself to another wolf, even knowing that you will always end up in my arms.”

You frown, taken aback by the little sentence at the end.

“How did you…?”

You were a little surprised that he somehow found out that little comment you have made to one of your closest friends, you had made it without thinking, full of anger after you found out who was you alpha.

“You thought that I would never now?, that little comment that made want to rip every throat in my way, especially the one of that little weak alpha you compared me with…He would never have a female like you, only because you are mine, mine and mine alone, remember that we are connected honey, anywhere you go my senses will be right behind you, that’s a little of how much you drive me crazy and you have to always remember that the moon never makes mistakes”

After that sentence he buried his head deep between your legs, licking a long stripe in that delicate and most intimate part of your body making you look up at the ceiling and letting out the most lustful moan in your short life but the fact that you wasn’t looking right at him while he ate you out with all the love and the possessiveness in the world made him mad enough to suck harder and harder on the sensitive bundle of nerves situated right in the center of your core, taking out of you a little groan of pain, not being prepared for his rough teeth and tongue.

“Look at me my sweet angel, why don’t you want to see your alpha praised your body, watch me prepare you to be the mother of my pups, oh yes honey I know you would raise them well, gods above, our pack will see you so pretty with a big baby bump and smelling of me everywhere”

And at this point you wanted everything he wanted, he was yours and you were his, his desires and dreams were also yours, wherever he went you would be right by his side, expecting to fill any need that he might have, as soon as he bruised your skin with that fangs of his, marking you for life, there will be no return.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla.

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