#pieck finger fic

[zuzusexytiems]

Jean and Pieck have had their fair share of fights throughout their relationship—arguably a healthy amount for the average couple.

They’ve never had one quite like this.

Read on AO3

Comments very appreciated 🥹

[terracyte]

punk reiner 💥 , emo bert 🖤 , and the girlie pops ⛓️🥀 from

sugar we're goin down :3

[kayakima]

I will say something that I see on twt occasionally that bothers me about the fanon characterization of Pieck is this idea that she’s physically disgusting/doesn’t shower/doesn’t brush her teeth. Like yes she probably neglects her hair and is pretty rank right after being a titan for 2 months but I always interpreted the messiness as just a 24/7 bed head and her father not really knowing how to deal with her hair leading to her just not learning about the proper care of her specific hair type from lack of a mother figure, rather than “she’s a sweaty and crusty person with bad hygiene bc she doesn’t gaf”. I never saw her as the type to just be absolutely nasty and I wish that wasn’t such a popular take.

I really feel like if she was a titan for months at a time it would be the polar opposite once she got back to human form, and she would immediately shower to the point of rubbing her skin raw. Especially when Hange asks if she brushes her titan’s teeth and she’s upset that they even asked that question. Post-rumbling Pieck to me is the girl with like 5 different perfumes each for a different occasion because now she CAN be girly and pretty and traditionally feminine.

[sshirakumo]

Jeanpiku + Final Season

Dedicating this to my favorite Jeanpiku arist/amazing mutual, @zuzusexytiems - thanks for keeping this rarepair's fandom fed so well ♡

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Where would these Aot characters take you on a date?

Armin: The beach. Obviously! This man is in LOVE with the ocean, but somehow today he's not gazing at the waves. He's gazing at you! This is why he ends up tripping on a rock and landing face first in the water.

Mikasa: A fun walk through a market. She loves checking out things she hasn't tried yet with you. You end up buying so many goodies that Mikasa has to carry them for you...with her strong arms...

Jean: A romantic dinner. It's a 5 star restaurant, amazing food, specially picked table. He's even wearing a suit. It would be great....if he didn't book the wrong date.

Connie: The cinema! Big fun action movie with awesome super heroes fighting bad guys and he keeps going on and on about cameos... you fall asleep halfway through and he steals your popcorn.

Eren: An arcade! You two spend hours and hours playing all sorts of games together, and you beat Eren every time. He does manage to win you a cute plushie at the crane machine....after god knows how many coins were inserted.

Levi: Takes you on a cruise/boat trip down the canal, coffee and tea included. It's very nice and quiet and there aren't many other people on board. He steals a kiss from you as you're busy admiting the sights.

Hange: TO THE MUSEUM! You spend so many hours making fun of stupid looking statues and paintings. Hange gets a bit too close to one of the exhibits and triggers the alarms. You run away before security catches you.

Pieck: Escape room. But unlike the usual, Pieck is doing everything in her power to make sure YOU don't escape her. You get kicked out for making out in the escape room.

Onyankopon: He has the same idea as Levi, but you two are late to the cruise... so instead he rents a swan boat and you end up paddling around a lake. It's so hilarious and your cheeks hurt from laughing at all his fun stories.

Reiner: You two go for a walk in the park. You feed a squirrel for the first time and that makes you incredibly excited.... until you notice Reiner being chased around by a group of angry swans. He's heading towards you. RUN!

Annie: she didn't outright invite you here, but you found a note in your bag asking you to come to this dessert shop at 1pm, so you did. You didn't expect to find Annie here, waiting for you. She threatens you into buying her one of each dessert available and you go broke.

Sasha: Somehow you end up at a buffet together, typical. You have no idea how many plates you've already eaten and end up in a food coma. Next time, you're choosing the place!

Yelena: Axe throwing bar. Is this really a date? You keep asking this question in your head over and over again as Yelena throws axe after axe towards you.

Zeke: Zoo! It's been really fun seeing lots of animals you've never seen before. But you spend an awful amount of time at the monkey enclosure. Zeke ends up freeing some of them and you two are now wanted by the police. Great.

[puffballthesheep]

LOVE ME BACK — PIECK FINGER.

vamptober — slight edging ; find masterlist here

synopsis. In the hidden depths of Attack on Junior High, a captivating character named Peick appears, emanating a captivating vampire-like presence. The reader finds solace with her comrades Zeke, Reiner, Porco, and Annie, longing for a sense of belonging. Filled with seething rage, Peick sets out on a mission to unleash her fury upon the one who rejected her love.

length. 5.2k words (I attempted to make ts short)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, vampire peick! high school au (reader is a senior student), age gaps (100+ difference), vampire, manipulative peick, blood, gore, dead bodies, hurtful words, heavy make out session, slight edging, slight smut, names (love, dear, sweet & ect.)

Notes. this took so mfkn long to write bc first I can’t make anything short, nor can I function w/o it being long, but anywho whoever requested this, wassup dude, I been doing good n I hope u are too, but now we finna get into it but If I were you I'd lock my doors before reading this 🤸🏾

Eighteen-year-old (name) had experienced a great loss at a young age when her mother passed away, yet she had been blessed with an incredible relationship with her father who had raised her alone since then. Growing up in the peaceful suburbs, the two of them had grown incredibly close over the years, having an almost psychic connection - they would always know what the other was thinking and even feel when the other was near.

One morning, (name) came downstairs to have breakfast with her dad, and with a smile she said cheerfully, "Good morning, dad! Thanks for breakfast this morning." As she started to eat, her dad asked her how she had slept. She took a sip of her orange juice before answering, her eyes twinkling with joy as she said, "Pretty good actually, no nightmares or anything," and she shrugged as she set down her cup, before taking another bite of her food. "That's good to hear," her dad said warmly, his face beaming with love.

The two of them chatted as (name) enjoyed her breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, the aroma of the food filling the air of the quaint kitchen. Suddenly, her dad said he had a meeting later and he'd be home late, so not to wait up for him. (Name) nodded and looked up at the clock on the stove, realizing it was almost time for her to leave for school. She stood from the table, put up the leftover food into the refrigerator, and grabbed her backpack. "Bye Dad, I love you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth. Her father smiled and waved as he was putting away his dishes and getting ready for work. "Love you too, have a good day at school," he said with a kind smile, his eyes twinkling with emotion and pride.

As the final bell reverberated through the halls of Attack on Titan Junior High, signaling the end of yet another mundane day, (name) found herself enveloped by her group of friends during passing period. "Well, well, if it isn't (name). It's been ages since I've laid eyes on you," Reiner, with a beaming smile, pulled her into a tight embrace, his arm naturally draping over her shoulders. Looking up at him, (name) playfully squirmed out of his grip, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe because I get to class, unlike some of you," she retorted, her voice laced with a touch of sarcasm.

Not one to back down, Porco quickly stepped forward, his emotions getting the best of him. "But hey, at least some of us manage to make it to class and get our work done," Porco fired back, his words dripping with a ruthless edge. (Name) let out a soft sigh, fully aware of Porco's tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. "Ah, Porco, always ready with a comeback," she replied, raising an eyebrow in a knowing manner. The mention of Porco's impending Saturday school attendance struck a chord, and (name) couldn't help but smirk as Reiner let out a hearty laugh, his firm grip on Porco preventing him from lunging at her in frustration, as he often did whenever she struck a nerve.

Leaning against the wall with a casual air, Zeke joined the conversation, his voice calm and composed. "You know, (name) has the best grades among all of us. I'm genuinely proud of you," he remarked, his admiration shining through. (Name) scoffed, readying herself to make her exit. "Eugh Zeke! Can't you stop sounding like someone's overprotective father? It's just plain creepy, especially when you already look like you're in your forties in the twelfth grade."

Just as (name) was about to leave, her path was unexpectedly halted by Bertolt, who gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Curiosity flickered in (name)'s eyes as she turned back to face him, her tone guarded. "Whatchu want?" she inquired, her voice tinged with caution. Bertolt handed her a stack of photographs, captured through his camera lens. Being the resident photographer, (name) possessed the unique skill of working in the darkroom, a talent unknown to her friends. "Could you possibly take these to the darkroom and meet me there after I find Annie?" Bertolt requested, his eyes filled with hope. Glancing at her phone to check the time, (name) nodded and then proceeded to walk away, leaving Bertolt to his search. "Sure thing. Enjoy your quest, but I can inform you that Annie hasn't graced us with her presence in days."

Reiner and Porco watched (name) depart, the latter still holding back a torrent of insults, assuming that she was too intimidated to confront them again. "She's always slipping away," Reiner murmured, a hint of sadness echoing in his voice. Porco, unable to contain his frustration, unleashed a string of profanities. Suddenly, the authoritative voice of Assistant Principal Levi cut through the air, causing the trio to turn their attention towards him. With a stern expression, Levi addressed Zeke directly. "Zeke, report to the principal's office immediately." Reiner and Porco exchanged glances, astounded by Zeke's audacity to smoke a cigarette in plain view of everyone. "What a delightful evening we're having, isn't it, Mr. Ackerman?" Zeke remarked, his words dripping with disdain. Zeke nonchalantly dropped the cigar and extinguished it with his foot, begrudgingly following Levi's lead. "Tch, shut it, you piece of shit," Levi retorted coldly, the tension between them palpable.

Unbeknownst to her, as she weaved through the bustling school hallways, a cacophony of noise enveloped her senses. The crowded corridors echoed with the hurried footsteps and animated conversations of students. Amidst the chaos, an eerie atmosphere hung in the air, gripping her with an unsettling feeling of being watched.

Glancing around, she found everyone engrossed in their own affairs, oblivious to the hidden observer. However, her gaze inexplicably landed upon Pieck, a former member of her friend group who had become a subject of her disdain. Pieck stood alone, seemingly detached from the bustling crowd, and she knew better than to trifle with her.

Pieck's appearance had changed subtly over time. Her once-tanned complexion and deep brown, sometimes gray eyes had transformed, giving way to a hint of red. It was a drastic alteration that intrigued her, though she concealed her fascination beneath a veil of hostility, conforming to the unkind treatment perpetuated by her friends.

As she passed by Pieck, their eyes met, and the chilling effect of Pieck's gaze sent shivers down her spine. Pieck always seemed to gravitate toward the shadowy corners, exuding an aura reminiscent of a vampire's allure. Yet, she dismissed such notions, knowing better than to believe in mythical tales.

Despite the bullying that she subjected Pieck to, she met her actions with an unwavering sweet smile, leaving her perplexed and questioning her own motives.

Determined to avoid further interaction, she rolled her eyes in defiance and briskly turned the corner, attributing her unease to the unsettling encounters of the day. With a sigh of relief, she pushed open the heavy door to the darkroom, immersing herself in its mysterious embrace.

As the door closed behind her with a resounding thud, the room enveloped her in darkness. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit space, revealing an enchanting sight. Pulsating red lights bathed the room, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon every surface. A chill, inexplicable yet tantalizing, crept down her spine, captivating her senses in an instant.

In the dimly lit dark room, she set the photos down on the table, soon feeling chills run down her spine. As she turned around, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, and she let out a loud scream. There stood Pieck, a girl she just saw in the hallway, yet her vampire-like appearance commanded attention. Pieck's hinted red eyes, dark brown and almost black under the blood-red lights, seemed to possess an irresistible power, drawing her in.

Suddenly, she was snapped out of the trance by Pieck's voice. "Good afternoon, (name)..." Her soft, delicate, tired voice sent a wave of excitement through her. She couldn't help but admire Pieck's beautiful, disheveled hair, lazy eyes that complemented her Greek nose, and full lips that begged to be kissed. Despite the pressure to dislike Pieck, driven by the disapproval of friends, she secretly felt an unexplainable attraction towards her.

Pieck's gaze seemed to search for something deep within her, as if she hadn't entered the dark room without making a sound. She finally gathered the courage to speak. "Pieck... how did you get in here so quietly?" She began to walk past Pieck, her backpack hanging from her right shoulder.

Pieck watched her intently, carefully observing every movement. Her cold, icy hands sent a shiver down her spine, further fueling her 'dislike' towards her. "Uh, can I help you?" She prepared to break free from Pieck's grip, but suddenly found herself pushed against the wall, with Pieck's finger pointing directly at her, holding her wrists above her head.

As she stared into Pieck's eyes, the room's atmosphere turned chillingly cold and the light of the red lights reflecting off Pieck's eyes. Trembling under her touch, she was astonished by this sudden change in Pieck's demeanor, as she was usually gentle and polite. It infuriated her to admit her feelings for Pieck, especially after speaking negatively about her. Unbeknownst to her, Pieck was more than just a human; she possessed an uncanny ability to read people.

Despite her attempts to break free, Pieck's grip remained unyielding. Pieck's small frame overpowering her seemed inexplicable, reinforcing the perception that she was peculiar. "Let me go!" Even with a tight grip, Pieck's movements were slow and delicate, while her eyes seemed to hypnotize her.

Pieck spoke softly once again, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "How can I, when you know just how much I love you, (name). Why do you ignore me?" Her free hand traveled from her shirt to her hair, twirling a lock around her finger. Pieck listened to her heartbeat, every move she made on her accompanied by the red dim light that accentuated her every motion, revealing a glimpse of her razor-sharp fangs.

Pieck's words quickened her heartbeat, as they shared the same feelings but couldn't express them. "Pieck, why are you doing this...?" She asked, struggling to free her hands from Pieck's grip. "Listen to me, (name). Tell me how you truly feel... no more lies."

Pieck knew there was something about her that she held dear, but she refused to grant her desires. After numerous attempts to escape, she kneed Pieck in the stomach and forcefully pushed her away. The impact was hard enough to cause Pieck to spit up blood, and she slowly lifted herself up with the support of the file cabinet next to her.

Turning back, she picked up her backpack and uttered hurtful words, "Wanna know how I really feel about you? Nothing but a disgusting disgrace. Loving me? Oh please, move on because who would ever love you?" Pieck's heart sank upon hearing her cruel words, reaching out her hand, ready to say something. "Don't leave me alone, (name)..." Her voice filled with sorrow, as she had nobody left in her life, with her mother gone and her father gone as well.

She opened the door to the dark room, preparing to step into the brightly lit hallway, making Pieck flinch. But before leaving, she turned back, saying, "You know... no wonder why people despise you. I'm certain you were the catalyst behind your father's tragic demise... you're nothing more than a repugnant disgrace and an insufferable burden. It's no surprise you find yourself utterly alone." She closed the door behind, leaving Pieck in there alone.

Pieck took her hand out of reach and wiped the blood from her mouth, knowing (name) had made a big mistake. This was the last chance Pieck gave her.

Just like that, she left Pieck in the dark, red room, unaware of how far Pieck would go to hear the words she desired. As she turned to her left, she saw Bertolt standing before her, wearing a puzzled expression. "What happened?"

At the eerie hour of 6:30 in the evening, (name) returned home from school, a lingering sense of unease enveloping her. The house, usually filled with the comforting presence of her father, was now shrouded in an unsettling silence.

With a heavy heart and a hint of trepidation, (name) settled herself at the kitchen table, desperately attempting to immerse herself in her homework. But then, out of nowhere, a searing pain pierced her delicate neck, causing her to wince in agony. The pain subsided momentarily, leaving her bewildered and unnerved. Determined to dismiss this inexplicable occurrence, she carried on with her work.

However, the pain returned with a vengeance, intensifying with each passing moment. "Ow! The fuck is this pain coming from?" she cried out, seeking solace in the freezer's icy grasp. Placing an ice pack on her throbbing neck, the pain gradually dissipated. Puzzled yet resolute, she pondered the enigma that had befallen her.

As the clock mercilessly ticked towards 8 o'clock, her father's absence weighed heavily on her mind. Homework completed, she ventured into the living room, hoping to wait a little longer for her father's return.

Engulfed by the flickering light of the television, hunger began to gnaw at her insides. With a resigned sigh, she reached for her phone, intending to order pizza from a nearby establishment.

"Hello, I would like to place an order," she spoke into the phone, her voice trembling ever so slightly. After conveying her desires, she set the phone aside, letting the monotony of the television lull her into a state of drowsiness. Unbeknownst to her, sleep gradually entwined its insidious tendrils around her weary frame, veiling her consciousness in a nocturnal embrace.

Suddenly, she was transported back to memories of her childhood, back in the house where her late mother once resided. Sitting at the kitchen table, she cast her gaze towards the stove, where an ethereal figure stood with its back turned, preparing a morning feast. Approaching the table, the figure placed a plate of eggs before her, whispering a chilling warning into her ear: "Don't open the door."

Abruptly, her surroundings shifted once more, this time to the side of a bustling highway. Amidst the cacophony of vehicles, a distant figure beckoned, its voice rendered incoherent by the clamor. Straining her senses, (name) discerned her father's voice, urgently imploring her: "Don't open the door!"

Startled, she jolted awake, her mind racing to comprehend her surroundings. The couch, her only companion in the dimly lit room, offered no solace. "what a weird dream. It felt so real," she mused aloud, its vividness leaving an indelible mark upon her psyche. Yet, her respite was short-lived, as the doorbell abruptly shattered the silence.

*Ding dong.*

Her body, guided by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, propelled her towards the door. However, as she passed the window, she recoiled in terror. Darkness had descended upon the world outside, a foreboding sign that time had slipped away unnoticed. Doubt plaguing her thoughts, she retrieved her phone, only to discover that the clock now displayed the witching hour: 3 AM. Her heart pounding, she turned back to face the enigmatic intruder lurking beyond the threshold.

"Dad! Are you home?" she called out, her voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and fear. But the doorbell persisted, its relentless chimes growing more frenzied with each passing second.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

It struck her then - something was dreadfully amiss. A chill crept up her spine as the memory of her dream resurfaced, her father's caution echoing in her mind.

"Don't open the door!"

With trembling hands, she refrained from unlocking the door, instead choosing to seek confirmation from her father through the peephole. There he stood, unflinching, his eyes fixated on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. This inexplicable stillness, coupled with the incessant ringing of the doorbell, struck terror into her very core.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

"Dad! Is someone with you? answer me! I refuse to open the door until you respond!" she pleaded, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

Overwhelmed by panic, (name) collapsed, as she pressed herself against the door, desperately avoiding any action that would invite further dread. She couldn't explain it, but an overwhelming sense of terror gripped her, eventually lulling her into an exhausted slumber beside the door, the relentless toll of the doorbell serving as a haunting lullaby.

As the morning sun bathed the world in its gentle glow, (name) stirred from her restless sleep. Recollections of the previous night flooded her mind, urging her to action. She cautiously rose to her feet, distancing herself from the door that had become a harbinger of nightmares. Glancing out the window, the sight of daylight offered a modicum of solace.

Summoning her waning courage, she approached the door once more, swallowing the fear that threatened to consume her. Peering through the peephole, she met her father's gaze once again. she opened the door and only this time something was horribly wrong. Her father's severed head, grotesquely suspended from a hook, greeted her horrified gaze. The weight of despair settled in her stomach, threatening to engulf her entirely. Clutching her abdomen, she stared at the blood dripping onto the doorstep, uttering a feeble question into the abyss.

"W-who could have done this?"

Her eyes fell upon a note lying on the ground, soaked in crimson. Trembling, she picked it up and read its chilling message:

"Now, who's all alone now?"

The note slipped from her trembling grasp, and in that moment, the door slammed shut with an otherworldly force. Just as she turned to face the darkness that encroached upon her, (name) was violently yanked backward, her screams drowned by the suffocating embrace of the abyss.

(name) awoke to find herself trapped in an unknown and eerie place. The stench of blood assaulted her senses, causing her to gag as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings. The walls were cold and made of rough stone, barely allowing any light to penetrate the darkness. Above her, a single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting sinister shadows that danced along the walls.

Suddenly, a chilling sight caught her eye. A table stood in the corner, and blood dripped steadily from its surface, pooling on the floor below. As her eyes adjusted further, the true horror came into focus. A headless body lay upon the table, its life force gruesomely drained by some unseen force. (name)'s heart sank as she recognized the victim - her own father - his lifeless form bearing cruel bite marks.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze shifted to another figure, their body still bleeding profusely, crimson liquid flowing perilously close to where she was bound. With growing dread, she followed the trail of blood, her eyes widening in terror as the truth unraveled before her. The wounded person, dressed in a gray hoodie and jeans, was none other than Annie, her friend. Weak and trembling, Annie turned towards (name) with pleading eyes, her blonde hair matted with blood.

"(name)...help...me..." Annie's plea was cut short as death claimed her, right before (name)'s horrified gaze. A gut-wrenching scream tore from (name)'s lips, echoing through the blood-soaked chamber.

The single light bulb overhead flickered ominously, casting erratic shadows that danced upon the walls, heightening the sense of impending doom. (name) desperately struggled against her restraints, feeling the cold, rusty chains digging into her flesh. She strained to stand, but the unforgiving grip of the chains held her captive, an agonizing reminder of her helplessness.

As she cast her gaze towards the middle of the stone door, footsteps grew louder, each one a chilling symphony of dread. The light bulb's flickering intensified with each approaching step, accentuating the darkness that enveloped her soul. The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure responsible for her torment.

A shiver ran down (name)'s spine as Pieck entered the room, her disarming smile mirroring the gentle facade she had worn the day before. Clutched in her arms was (name)'s father's severed head, blood still dripping from her mouth. The sickening truth became undeniable – Pieck was a manipulative and sinister vampire, masquerading as a sweet and innocent creature.

"Peick!! You did this, didn't you? Why would you..." (name) choked on her words, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief. Pieck's crimson gaze bore into (name), her expression devoid of remorse as she callously dropped the decapitated head to the cold, blood-stained floor, splattering the crimson liquid onto (name)'s tear-streaked face.

(name)'s heart pounded in a terrifying mix of fear and sorrow, overwhelmed by the loss of her father and the horrifying uncertainty of her own fate. Pieck moved closer, her graceful steps belying the monstrous creature she truly was. She knelt before (name), placing a hand on her trembling thigh, while her other hand wiped away the tears that stained (name)'s cheeks.

"(name)...don't cry. You brought this upon yourself," Pieck whispered, her voice both soothing and haunting. She tilted her head, her bloodstained lips curling into a sinister smile, revealing her sharp, elongated fangs. (name) recoiled at the sight, transfixed by the blood that stained Pieck's teeth, her long tongue leisurely licking away the crimson droplets.

Terror consumed (name) as she finally found her voice, tremblingly uttering, "You aren't human, are you?" The realization of the monstrous truth sank in, sending shivers down her spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Pieck continued to explore (name)'s body, her touch moving from the thigh, to the side of her stomach, and finally to her breast. Her thumb caressed the delicate flesh, while her other fingers sought the pounding heartbeat beneath (name)'s chest.

"I'm surprised you didn't realize it sooner, (name)," Pieck whispered, a sadistic pleasure lacing her words. As (name)'s heartbeat raced with increasing panic, she struggled to breathe, her gasps for air growing more desperate. Drawing nearer, Pieck's voice slithered into (name)'s ear, sending a bone-chilling shiver down her spine. The words dripped from her lips like venom, a sinister promise hanging in the air.

"Breathe, my dear. I won't harm you... yet."

Pieck's presence alone was enough to unleash a torrent of fear within (name). As she leaned back, a sickening curiosity mingled with her terror, unable to resist the allure of Pieck's touch, even in the face of impending doom. But reality crashed down upon her when she looked down at the ground, her eyes fixating on her father's severed head. In a desperate attempt to shield herself from the grotesque scene, she clamped her eyes shut, refusing to witness the horrors before her.

Suddenly, an unnatural weight settled upon her lap. Her gaze shifted downward, revealing Pieck perched upon her, her icy hands caressing (name)'s cheeks. She compelled (name) to meet her gaze once again, their lips tantalizingly close. However, Pieck abruptly withdrew, her movements betraying a calculated cunning. With a slight tilt of her head, she fixated her piercing gaze upon (name) and silence descended like a suffocating fog.

"Why did you say those hurtful things to me, (name)..."

(name) froze, the memories of the cruel words she had hurled at Pieck resurfacing. In that dire moment, she struggled to conjure any justification, realizing that her desperate attempts to fit in had only birthed destruction. "I... I didn't mean it," (name) stammered, devoid of any coherent explanation. "All I wanted was to hear you say that you love me..."

Peick's soft plea echoed through (name)'s ears, weaving a spell that threatened to ensnare her mind. Her eyes, hypnotic in their intensity, seemed to coax (name) into surrendering to her will. Doubt crept into (name)'s thoughts as she began to forget the atrocities committed against her father and Annie. Deep down, she started to believe that she was to blame for their suffering. "No... it's all my fault... I caused my father's death..." (name) whispered to herself, her gaze falling into her lap.

Tears welled in her eyes as (name) succumbed to the hypnotic allure of Pieck's gaze and voice. "I love you too, Pieck... I couldn't tell you because..."

A wicked grin twisted across Pieck's face, her eyes narrowing with a malevolent glint. She relished in her manipulative power, reveling in the opportunity to make (name) forget her sins. "I always knew you loved me, (name), my sweet. The words I've longed to hear... It didn't have to come to this, but you drove me to it, my dear..."

Pieck's grip tightened on (name)'s bound hand, refusing to release her hold. Finally, (name) snapped out of the bewitching trance, realizing the depths of Pieck's depravity. "No, Pieck! What you've done cannot be undone! Yes, I loved you, but how could I ever love you now?! What you've done is unforgivable!" (name) cried out, her eyes drawn to the lifeless bodies of Annie and her father, a grim reminder of the carnage wrought by Pieck's insidious actions.

In the face of (name)'s defiance, Pieck fixated her gaze upon her, an insidious silence punctuating her ominous presence. With a sly sigh, she sharpened her nails, a wicked transformation taking hold. "(name)..."

Pieck exhaled, refusing to relinquish her grip on (name)'s conscience. "I never wished for it to come to this, but you continuously rejected my attempts to connect with you... I tried to do it the right way, but you denied me at every turn... I only wanted to know why..."

(name) cast her gaze downward once more, her heart heavy with guilt. She recognized her own fault in pushing Pieck away, knowing all too well the countless times Pieck had tried to bridge the divide. Compassion stirred within (name) as she contemplated what it must be like to stand in Pieck's shoes. "I know... and I'm sorry! I shouldn't have pushed you away or uttered a word about your father... But why did Annie have to suffer too?"

Pieck's smile contorted into an eerie gentleness as she gazed upon her lifeless victim, Annie. "Poor, poor Annie," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "She'll be back soon, my heart...but for now, just focus on me." The words of protest began to form on (name)'s lips, but a sinister calm washed over her, drowning out any resistance. Pieck was up to her dark deeds once again.

As (name) shifted uncomfortably, a chilling sensation spread across her body. It was then that she realized she was lying in a pool of her own blood, her life essence draining away. Panic gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the horrifying reality unfolding before her. "When did..." (name) managed to stammer, but Pieck interrupted with a gleeful grin, relishing in the terror she had instilled.

Unbeknownst to (name), Pieck had viciously slit her back while she was caught in a fit of righteous anger, berating Pieck for her unforgivable actions. The cunning vampire ensured that (name) remained fixated on her, her mesmerizing voice and piercing eyes numbing any sensation of pain. It was all part of Pieck's twisted plan to manipulate (name) into becoming her companion for eternity.

Pieck forcefully turned (name)'s face towards her own, their eyes locked in a macabre dance. "Everything's fine, (name)," Pieck hissed, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness. "(Name), I still want to be with you. I'll protect you. I just want you to be with me forever..." Dizziness overwhelmed (name), her mind clouded and her willpower crumbling. A faint smile crept across her face as she succumbed to Pieck's wicked charm. "I'm sorry for everything I've done...I love you too, but I was wrong..." (name) whispered, their voice barely a breath. Pieck hushed (name) with a tender gesture, then pressed her lips against (name)'s, a kiss filled with twisted passion.

Pieck's hands slithered from (name)'s cheeks down to her shoulders, intensifying the heated kiss. Her tongue hungrily sought entry, licking at (name)'s bottom lip, leaving a taste of the blood she had recently fed on. Their tongues clashed in a battle for dominance, fueling Pieck's insatiable bloodlust. Her nails dug deep into (name)'s shoulder, drawing fresh blood that sent shivers down Pieck's spine, igniting a primal desire within her. The once gentle vampire grew more aggressive, her hunger escalating.

Within the depths of their twisted embrace, (name)'s faint moans echoed, a symphony of pleasure and pain. (name) weakly placed their hands on Pieck's sides, attempting to push her away. Pieck's concern was thinly veiled as she gazed down at (name), a hunger in her eyes that matched the thirst coursing through her veins. "Pieck...I feel so weak," (name) managed to utter, struggling to catch their breath. "You're doing so well, my sweet," Pieck murmured, her voice laced with sadistic satisfaction. "Just hold on..."

With a renewed hunger burning within her, Pieck reclaimed (name)'s lips, savoring every moment of their macabre union. The overwhelming scent of (name)'s blood intoxicated her, driving her to taste every inch of their being. Kissing down (name)'s jawline, she gradually made her way to the vulnerable expanse of (name)'s neck.

(name) willingly offered up their neck, granting Pieck unrestricted access. Even as their life force slipped away, (name) squirmed beneath Pieck, feeling a perverse wetness between their legs. Pieck seized upon this opportunity, grinding against (name) with a primal hunger, their moans intensifying as the friction between their thighs ignited a twisted pleasure. While Pieck marked (name)'s neck with countless hickeys, her hand returned to caress (name)'s cheek, her thumb pressing gently against their skin. As Pieck's fangs grazed (name)'s neck, a surge of pain mingled with a familiar sensation, reminiscent of the mundane discomfort of doing homework at a table.

Deep down, (name) knew this was wrong, but they were ensnared in Pieck's web of manipulation, unable to break free. As Pieck sank her razor-sharp fangs into (name)'s neck, the pain was numbed, replaced by a tingling sensation that mirrored the bite of a pen on paper. (name) turned their head slightly, groaning weakly as their strength waned, their eyes fixated on Annie's lifeless body. "We have... to save Annie..." they whispered, their voice fading.

Pieck withdrew, her fangs dripping with the crimson elixir of her beloved's life force. Her wild, disheveled curls framed her bloodstained face as she wiped her lips, gazing down at (name), teetering on the precipice of death. A wicked grin spread across her visage as she kissed (name)'s forehead. "Very soon, my love," she whispered, her voice echoing with sinister delight. "Soon, you will be just like me... and we can live together forever."

(name) mustered the last remnants of their fading energy to gaze at Pieck, a feeble smile gracing her lips. Unbeknownst to (name), a new set of fangs had sprouted in her mouth during this unholy transformation. Pieck watched with rapt attention as (name) underwent their metamorphosis, relishing in the macabre beauty of her creation.

y’all the theme of this ‘lil’ one shot is basically to be yourself, don't try and play who you're not to fit in with the crowd cs y’all saw what happened to ol reader girl, but anywho y’all prepare yo self for a hange x fem! reader x yelena vamp one shot cs das what’s comin next 😭

[aruanimess]

Hello, Myrtle! 🖤

I hope you're doing well, and wish you a good *timezone*, and don't forget to take care and rest :3

If it's still actual, and only when you have time and more energy, could you please share your ideas of quiet sings of love prompt "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?" for AruAni feat. JeanPiku? I'm curious about your thoughts on this prompt, and I hope it'll also cheer you up and bring a smile on your face while working on it (but only when you have more spare time, no rush!)

Sending you many, many hugs and best wishes, Myrtle⊂⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠⊂⁠ ⁠)⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Quiet acts of love prompts

Anna!! Such a lovely prompt! I wanted to finish it for the boy’s birthday, but alas… the tiredness won out T^T

Anyway, I hope you like it :)

~~~

“N— no, that’s just wrong.”

“Pshaw, no, it’s not. It’s perfectly reasonable actually!”

“I’m sorry but I can’t get behind this. You can stretch the definition, sure, but still it doesn’t apply. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not stretching it, I’m following it to its logical conclusion.”

“No. I’m sorry, Pieck. I disagree.”

Jean enters the kitchen. His pajama shirt is buttoned wrong and he must have opted out of shaving for the day because his patchy stubble is clearly visible. This is what vacation Jean likes to do then: sleep in and skip shaving, thinks Armin, lamenting the fact that in all their years of friendship this is the first time he glimpses this side of him. 

Pieck leans back in her chair, craning her neck to spy at Jean’s ass while he fills up a mug with fresh-brewed coffee. “Babe,” she says in a sugary voice. “What do you think? Is cake a sandwich or not? I’ll give you a hint. The answer is pretty… sweet.” She winks. Or blinks. Both eyes close at any rate. 

Jean narrows his eyes as he sits with them at the table. “What are you guys going on about?” He slurps his coffee loudly. 

His former zeal returns with vengeance. “That’s another issue actually. Sandwiches are generally savory.”

Pieck grins like a lazy, smug cat. “Have you never heard of an ice-cream sandwich, Armin?”

Rats. She has a point.

Jean sets his mug down with a decisive thunk. “This debate is stupid.”

“No it’s not!”

Pieck and Armin glance at each other in surprise. In their affront, they both spoke at the same time. They giggle at their own silliness. 

Pieck recovers first. “No, but really. It’s two pieces of bread-like substance with filling between them. It’s a sandwich!”

“No, no.” He waves his index finger at her. “That’s stretching the definition. A sandwich is framed by two pieces of bread. Period. Not bread-like. Also, you may have noticed the operative word ‘two’.”

“Are you guys seriously gonna keep at it?”

Pieck huffs. She picks up her fork, cuts a bite of her piece of… well, cake, and shoves it in her mouth. “You and your definitions,” she teases as she chews.

Armin sits up in his chair. “Do you want me to bring out the dictionary?”

“Please don’t,” says Jean. 

With a theatrical eye-roll, Pieck tilts her head. “It’s not about the dictionary! This is language in action! Expanding on the meaning of words as needs arise.”

“So you agree it’s expanding on the meaning?”

“I’m only pointing out that dictionaries are not necessarily updated on current vernacular.”

“But no one uses the word sandwich to refer to cake!”

“Not with this attitude, they don’t.”

Thankfully, the back door bursts open, and his glorious girlfriend walks in to save him from her best friend’s deranged ramblings. 

Honestly though, sometimes he thinks Pieck is just messing with him. She likes to debate him on the silliest, most inane things imaginable. After a short period of continuously getting involved in ridiculous arguments, he refused to engage her any longer, but then she started baiting him. She'd open with the most outlandish of claims and then proceed to defend it to the death. He simply had no option but to set her straight. And thus they have found themselves debating whether cake was a sandwich on the very first morning of their vacation, while Jean was still asleep and Annie out for her ritual jog. 

Along with a gust of crisp wind, Annie steps inside. Her cheeks have a healthy flush to them, from the exercise or from the springtime chill or both. She’s wearing a loose top and knee-length bloomers. On her side, she’s holding something obscured by the folds of her clothes. 

Armin tilts his chin up in a silent plea for a kiss. She indulges him, dropping one swift peck on the corner of his lips. Preoccupied by her closeness as he is, he hears more than sees something soft landing on the table in front of him. Annie draws back and turns around, already too busy pulling a loaf and a jar of jam out of the pantry to make her breakfast. Armin stares at her strong hands as they work on her food.

A low whistle penetrates the Annie-induced fog in his brain. It’s coming from Jean, who is glancing meaningfully down. Curious, Armin follows his gaze. 

There on the table, right between his coffee and his plate, sits a small bouquet of bright yellow flowers. More than a little taken aback, Armin nudges the bundle with his pinky finger. “What’s this?” he asks Annie. 

Annie’s spine stiffens noticeably. The tips of her ears are turning red. “I brought you flowers,” she murmurs while spreading butter on a slice of bread, avoiding his eyes. 

He blinks. “For what?”

A tiny irritated shrug. “There has to be a reason?”

Armin is shocked speechless. He takes the flowers in hand and twists them around to examine them from both sides, as if this will reveal to him their secrets. It’s six flowers in total, he notes, chrysanthemums if his memory serves. He digs his brain for their hidden meaning. What is Annie trying to tell him? His mind provides several answers: longevity, amity, joy; but also the death of a loved one. He shakes his head, frowning. No, Annie is not well-versed in flower symbolism, that’s his brand of madness. Still, what could this mean?

While Armin is struck dumb by the bouquet, Pieck most certainly is not. She plops her elbow to the back of her chair and looks at Annie with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, come on, Annie-Honey. You can’t just show up with a bouquet,” the way she pronounces the word should be outlawed, “of all things and not share what’s the occasion!”

Annie pivots to face them. She leans against the kitchen counter, balancing her plate in one hand. “There’s no occasion,” she insists, and, before Pieck has a chance to question her further, she shoves the entire slice of jam-slathered bread in her mouth. She chews obnoxiously. 

Little does she know, she’s only riling her up with her refusal to answer. Armin glances warily between his girlfriend and Pieck, but it’s Jean who speaks next. 

“No occasion?” he muses, an extremely judgemental eyebrow tilt is accompanying his words. “I’m quite positive—nay certain—that gifting your significant other flowers is generally motivated by something. If not to mark an occasion, then perhaps to express some tender feelings?”

“Oh, baby,” Pieck mock-laments, “you shouldn’t be neighing like that.”

All levity bleeds out of Jean’s face. He pouts sullenly. “You and Connie should have never met.”

Pieck grins and blows him a kiss. Then, her attention zeros in on Annie. “But really, Annie, don’t be shy, is it because you loooooove him?”

Armin’s heart is hammering in his chest. He should interfere, he thinks, step in and get them to stop with their teasing. But in truth he wishes to hear Annie’s answer as much as them. This gesture… It’s so sweet, so romantic, so uncharacteristic of Annie, it makes him want to howl from happiness. 

Annie is scowling. The food in her mouth is no longer filling her cheeks. Chewed and swallowed, warm in her stomach, it can’t provide an easy out any more. And Pieck is watching her like a hawk. 

She sighs. “I passed by a vendor,” she says. 

“And?” urges Pieck. 

Annie casts a glance at him and meets his eyes. He doesn’t know what she sees in his expression—longing, embarrassment, tentative hope?—but her face softens. Her lips curve minimally in a fond smile. When she responds, it’s to him and him only: “And they reminded me of you.”

Armin gasps. The scent of pollen hits the back of his throat and he sneezes loudly. Then, he sneezes again and again and again, a proper sneezing fit. Jean is there, grabbing the flowers away from his nose. Annie is to his other side, rubbing his back with a small gentle hand. Pieck is chuckling, but her eyes hold a sympathetic warmth. 

“You’ll kill him with your bouts of romance, Leonhart,” chastises Jean. 

Annie’s palm on his back freezes, halting her caring petting. Her hand slips on his shoulder and then away. Oh no. Armin can’t have that.

He grips her fingers tightly before they vanish. With the other hand, he takes hold of the bouquet from Jean and brings it beneath his nostrils, taking a long showy whiff. 

“No, she won’t,” he says to Jean. Then he beams up at his beautiful, considerate girlfriend, who melts at the sight of his smile. “And if she will, I’ll die a happy man.”

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Hi Pam!

Hope you're doing well, and thank you for your ‘on the path that led me to you’! 🫂This story is really engaging and interesting to follow, to see your input into canon events, that perfectly fits into the lore and fills a lot of "missing" scenes.

As you've expressed that you would love to have some fluff aside stories Post-canon... Oh well, you know, I'm absolutely weak against AruAni domestic fluff. feat Ambassadors Family.

And I was thinking, if I may ask you to have some small continuation of your other wonderful oneshot, "to save what we have"? Take all the creative freedom you have, just something related to this particular story and some aftermath.

Thank you in advance, take care and wish you all the best :3

Anna!! Thanks so much for the prompt- sorry it took a while to respond! I was very much looking forwarding to writing this, just needed to think of a scenario to put them in. I definitely tried to lean into the ‘domestic’ and ‘family’ aspects of it.

I am grateful you requested this, because I have been finding myself wanting to return to this story/era so much lately 🥰

The story is posted under the cut- I will get around to posting to AO3 soon hopefully.

Update- you can still read below but this is also now published on AO3 as Part 2 of ‘to save what we have’ —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/59811097

“Stop squirming- hold still…” Annie said, glancing up and eyeing Armin where his arm was extended towards her across the table. She pressed the sterile cotton ball with tweezers into the wound across her husband’s forearm. The bullet had carved a clear trail through the flesh right above his wrist- and despite his grumbling she was determined to be diligent about cleaning and redressing it every day.

Armin peered over at her from where he was reading the newspaper. She eyed him carefully, pressing the alcohol soaked cotton back into the deepest section of his wound. He hissed a little through his teeth.

“I know you’re making faces behind that newspaper.” She murmured, leaning closer to inspect her handiwork.

“No I’m not…” Armin muttered back, shaking the paper straight where it had started to droop at the top.

“Yes he is.” Pieck chimed in with her sing-song voice. She was mixing flour into dough at the kitchen counter next to the table. Reiner chuckled with laughter, the bacon in the pan he was flipping over sizzling.

Annie found she appreciated the smell of the cooking meat- she had always enjoyed sweet things for breakfast, which Pieck was obliging with her cinnamon roll recipe- but lately she had been craving salty and savory foods.

Maybe their baby would prefer those kinds of foods, she thought absently as she smiled to herself, passing her free hand over the swell of her stomach.

They had been in the safe house for a week- giving the authorities time to search for the extremists’ base of operations. They were being incredibly thorough at Armin’s insistence. The captain of the guard had ensured them that his men wouldn’t rest until the rot had been cut out.

She knew there was likely to be political fallout from this- the night of the gala was important for a lot of reasons and it represented the results of years of work for the ambassadors and other world leaders allied with their cause. For the event to be cut short so violently would have consequences and potentially undo some of their hard-won progress.

But she couldn’t be concerned about the world right now. She could only be concerned about her world. And right now that was Armin, the child growing inside her, and the four other ambassadors she had come to think of as allies, then friends, and more recently as family.

And all was relatively right with her world at the moment. Armin, despite his grimacing, would heal from his injury with nothing more than a scar. Her friends were resting and enjoying their private time together after so many weeks in the public eye.

And for herself… she was coming to terms with her pregnancy all over again now that everyone knew about it.

She wasn’t feeling as sick as she had a few weeks ago. And despite the more visible changes to her body that had alarmed her at first, two weeks ago was the first time she had felt her child move and it had been so quietly thrilling that it was all she could do not to reveal their secret right in the droll policy meeting they were sitting in.

Armin had spent that night petting and doting on her, transfixed by the growing bump and talking to their baby. She had been a little embarrassed of the extra attention at first, but to see the hopeful smile that lit up his eyes… it made her remember why she had agreed to do this with him in the first place.

She wanted to give him something special- something to make up for all of the things he had lost. Even if it was scary, even if the symptoms weren’t easy. She had taken so much from the world… lives and hopes and futures. But now she could create it herself just by loving him. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem possible. Her? After everything?

At the same time, though, thanks to Armin she had learned to accept all sorts of things she didn’t think she deserved.

She finished cleaning the wound and tying off the gauze, smoothing her thumb across the cotton as she delicately held his wrist. Armin placed the newspaper to the side, smiling knowingly at her with the upturned corner of his lips, before sliding his arm from her soft grip and rising out of the chair to come and stand behind her.

She had been bent over the table, and she hadn’t realized how slumped and poor her posture had been until she sat back, feeling Armin begin to massage her shoulders. She leaned her head back for him to press a kiss on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, smiling as she stretched her feet out in front of her beneath the table. She found herself resting her hands atop her protruding stomach. She hummed contentedly as her husband continued kneading the tense muscles around her neck.

She opened one eye at the sound of Reiner chuckling. He waved his tongs over at her, and she raised a brow at him. “Never thought I’d see the day when Annie was pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.” She frowned a bit, and Armin scoffed good-naturedly behind her.

She closed her eyes again, pressing her hand on her lower belly where her child was moving and kicking. “I’m not the one frying bacon in a frilly apron.” She said back nonchalantly, and she heard Pieck’s snicker as she continued to whisk her batter.

“I’m not about to have grease splatter on my shirt…” He defended glumly, turning back towards the stove top.

Armin leaned in to give her another kiss on the cheek before he knelt down next to her chair, placing his hands delicately next to hers where their child was moving. “How is our squish this morning?”

Annie snorted a bit at his newest nickname for their child. ‘Squish’ had caught on last week, replacing ‘little bean’ in the rotation of terms of endearment. She grabbed his hand, pressing it on her side right below her ribs.

“Active.” She said with a sigh, but the contentment in her voice bled through anyway.

“That’s good… maybe they’ll decide it’s better to be active in the morning than at night.” He added, his eyes lighting up with that infectious enthusiasm.

“How would the baby know what time it is anyway?” Pieck wondered aloud.

Armin straightened a bit to look at her, and Annie could sense from his expression that he was mentally flipping through a catalogue of books he’d read about prenatal development. He read them aloud to her at night sometimes, while she curled into his chest and tried her best not to nod off.

“At a certain stage, they can hear voices and respond to light… I imagine the baby knows when it’s dark and quiet it may be nighttime. Not the concept of night, of course, that’s absurd but… the sensation of it maybe?” He posited and Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the inquisitive look on his face that she knew so well.

“Voices, huh? Think the baby might recognize my voice?” Reiner asks.

“That’s not an invitation to talk more.” Annie teased with a glare.

“When are you going to start acting kind and motherly?” Reiner teased back with a shake of his head.

“I could stand to be a lot nicer to you if you would hurry up with that bacon.” She said adjusting in the chair as she crossed her arms.

“Since when did you start wanting meat for breakfast?” Pieck said, starting to roll out the dough with a rolling pin. She turned to Annie with a little pout, and Annie rolled her eyes.

She glanced over at Armin, a teasing grin on her face. “It’s what our squish wants, I guess.”

Armin smiled back at her, pressing a quick kiss to her middle before standing. He crossed over to help Pieck roll the dough into spirals and coat them with cinnamon sugar.

Annie busied herself with packing up the first aid kit for a moment, before all four of their heads turned at the sound of the door opening from the back of the house and heavy footsteps coming towards them.

She furrowed her brows when Jean and Connie practically tripped over themselves entering the kitchen, piling armloads of shopping bags on the table.

“What’s all this? I thought you were just meeting with the dignitaries in our place this morning.” Armin asked, swiveling around to face them and fix them with his own puzzled expression.

“We did- but then we passed by a marketplace on our way back and-“ Jean started.

“And we found the greatest stuff for Baby Arlert!” Connie spurted out, diving into one of the bags and pulling out a tiny quilted blanket.

Armin laughed, rubbing at his temples with one hand as she shook his head at him. Connie only continued to dig out more items from the bag as Jean jostled it back and forth between them- arguing that he wasn’t giving anyone enough time to appreciate the purchases.

Annie bit her lip, reaching out with one hand to touch a small stuffed rabbit. It had silken ears and a frilly ribbon tied around it’s neck. It’s button eyes and nose glistened under the light. She rubbed one of it’s floppy ears between her fingers.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the teasing and good-natured griping around her, as Pieck and Reiner continued to pester Jean for his out of control shopping habits, and Jean continued to pester Connie for trying to take credit for the gifts.

Instead, she ran her fingertips across a tiny smocked sleeping frock that was laid out on the table, before holding it up by the sleeves.

It was so small. Her baby was going to be so small. She tried to imagine a minuscule little person, with blonde hair and blue eyes filling out the little garment.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes, and before she knew it she was sniffling. Had her father ever dressed her in something precious like this? Had she ever been treated like a soft small child who was wanted and loved?

But their baby would have that. Their baby would have Armin as a father. Their baby would have so many people who cared for them.

“Annie? Are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that a tear had slipped down onto her cheek.

She startled a bit, looking over at Armin’s concerned face. She bit her lip, blushing a bit as she smoothed the frock out carefully with her palms on the table in front of her. “It’s just… so small.” She said finally.

“Of course it is, it’s for you and Armin’s baby.” Connie joked and Jean elbowed him lightly.

She felt Armin tucking her hair behind her ear lightly, standing behind her as she continued to trace the delicate embroidery on the hem with her fingertip, blinking back tears and sniffling.

When she finally looked up at him, she found herself standing up to tuck herself into his arms as he pet soothing circles into her back. She laid her head on his shoulder and clutched his sweater in her hands as he laughed a little in his chest.

“Yes, Annie. Our baby will be small and soft and little.” He said, his voice low.

She sighed, slackening a bit. She knew there were a million other words said to her in that simple phrase. About how their baby would be grow up in a world where it was safe to be small and soft and little. About how they were all working to make the world a better place for them to grow up in- but no one was working harder than Armin himself.

She turned to face Jean and Connie again, Armin’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder, and gave them both a small appreciative smile.

“Small and soft and spoiled more like- how much did you spend on all of this, Jean?” Pieck teased, dusting her hands off on her skirt as she finished slipping the cinnamon rolls into the oven.

“It doesn’t matter how much I spent.” He said crossing his arms petulantly.

“Are you trying to win some sort of contest for the favorite uncle before the kid’s even born?” Reiner asked, placing the bacon he’d finished preparing on a plate as he turned off the burner.

“There’s no such contest- but if there were I wouldn’t be worried about competition from you or Connie.” Jean said.

Reiner harrumphed a bit to himself, but sidled on the other side of the table to place the plate of bacon down in front of Annie’s chair.

She let out a relieved sigh, sinking heavily back into the chair as Armin let out a laugh. She was already shoving a strip of bacon into her mouth before she even sat down. It smelled so good, after all, and she had waited so long to eat it.

Reiner crossed his arms at Jean, giving him a self-satisfied smirk. “See, I’m giving the baby what it really wants.”

“This is very sweet of you all, but please don’t turn this into some kind of twisted made up pecking order.” Armin said, his voice already sounding disappointed and tired, his hands hanging at his sides.

Annie smiled to herself as she continued helping herself to the food, each of her friends around her pulling out a chair to sit down and continuing to discuss the baby, and the gifts, and their petty grievances laced with love and familiarity.

She slipped her hand into Armin’s when he settled into the chair next to the left of hers. She traced her thumb lightly over the gauze again as she glanced down at his hand before looking up to his face. His eyes were wrinkled with laughter as Connie held up the frock underneath his chin and Pieck plopped a tiny bonnet on his head.

It warmed her heart to know how easy it was for him to smile. A week ago they had almost lost everything. She had lost sleep over it a couple nights, remembering... dreaming of a different outcome. But all she had to do was reach for him in her sleep, his hand finding the slope of her stomach as he pulled her towards his chest to hold her close. To hold them close.

All was well… in her world. And despite how hard it was to imagine being any happier than this, she knew it could only get better from here.

[natsuki208]

This was suppose to be a Christmas gift for my friend @zuzusexytiems but due to… complications, I ran out of time to get the whole thing done.

I will however get the first chapter out tomorrow and I’ll honestly continue it next year.

[corner-stories]

30, nightgown with Jean and Pieck?

September Prompts 🌻

30. Nightgown Post-Rumbling Ambassador shenanigans because why not?

The bathroom on the vessel is just like the rest of the ship — constricting, utilitarian, and made with barely any elbow room. In his time as an Ambassador, Jean has seen many rooms just like it, but this might be the first time he's seen a shower head placed nearly above the toilet.

But nonetheless, it's enough room for him to comfortably bathe, though with the caveat that he must stand completely straight and remain unflinching under a stream of cold water.

In the midst of the night he turns off the shower and steps out. After patting himself dry, Jean wraps his towel around his waist and crosses the floor of the bathroom with a single step. He wipes steam off the mirror above the sink, a surface that is barely wide enough to show him his reflection.

As he slicks his hair back, Jean gets a good look at the current state of his stubble. At the moment it looks closer to a short beard than fashionable scruff. He's unsure if it's a side-effect of all the travelling he had done in the last month alone, or a sign that he's truly gotten lazy in matters of personal grooming.

It only takes a few seconds of observing the beard on his face for Jean to reach for his shaving kit. With the puck of soap and brush, he creates a suitable lather with the frigid faucet water. After applying the suds to his face, he reaches for his safety razor — a nifty contraption that he finds much preferable to a straight blade — and goes through a process he has performed dozens of time.

Though tonight Jean finds himself deviating from his usual routine, as he finds the motivation to remove the hair on his cheeks and chin, but not that above his lips. For what reasons he doesn't know, but what he does know is that it's been a while since his beard had been this long and something inside of him feels like experimenting.

When Jean finishes perfecting his new look, he rinses his face and changes into his nightclothes. Once he's dressed he leaves the bathroom with his toiletry bag in hand, a towel slung over his shoulder, and a style of facial hair he had yet to try in his twenty-something years of life.

When Jean opens the door and steps into the ship's narrow passageway, he is abruptly met with one of his fellow Ambassadors.

Suddenly Pieck is standing in front of him, clad in a white nightgown that goes beyond her knees and holding a similar toiletry bag. It's no surprise what she's doing at this time of night, unless ghostly-looking sleepwear and little nifty washkits have suddenly become the latest fashion.

Pieck looks just as startled as he is when she sees him emerge from the bathroom.

"Oh, hey," Pieck starts, then barely a second passes before she notices something rather different about her comrade. Her eyebrow quirks up. "What the hell's on your face?"

Jean frowns, but strokes his newly-trimmed moustache rather protectively. "Thought I'd try something different."

"You thought you'd tape a dying squirrel to your upper lip?" Pieck scoffs. Judging by the look on her face she's not appalled by the 'stache, but more confused. "You look like someone named Francis."

Jean sighs. "I'm experimenting, okay?"

"Experimenting with what?" Pieck laughs. Suddenly she shifts from 'mocking mode' to 'sincerity mode,' though with someone like her those two modes tend to blur the lines.

"Come on, none of us have been on active duty in years, you don't have to look like a first lieutenant in the army anymore," Pieck says in a voice that is as sweet as it is sarcastic.

Jean grumbles. In the mirror his little moustache looked alright — he hadn't been able to make the ends twirl upwards, but he was able to make it look presentable in a way that fit with his life of suits, ties, and peace talks.

But seeing Pieck so easily mock his look makes him think otherwise.

"Okay, good night, Pieck," he ends up saying in place of anything more snappy. At this point of the evening, he only has so much energy left in his system.

He walks past Pieck, wondering if his facial hair might look a lot better in the morning.

"Good night!" Pieck repeats back at him. "Hope that moustache didn't use up all the hot water."

"Ha!" Jean guffaws, then turns around to give her a sardonic look. "Bold of you to assume we even had any in the first place."

[oniricdiary]

posted my baby on ao3. Hopefully someone will appreciate it (not if it’s trash ofc). I’m really exposing myself with this because it’s entirely based on my own experiences😔

Already posted ch 2 bc ch 1 is kinda a “pilot episode” which is very short and introductory. The real story starts from ch 2🙃

Anyway less talking and more unhinged dialogues.

[zuzusexytiems]

printed OOML as a little christmas gift to myself 🥹

I said it on twt, but it feels surreal holding it my hands rn. it's as thick as an actual book, and it's hitting me just now that I did this. I made this. it feels so unreal, and idk, I'm just so proud of myself 😭

thank you to everyone who ever gave this story the time of day, especially the ones who are still waiting for the update 🥺 I genuinely would not have been able to achieve this without your support and encouragement, and I'm forever grateful 🥺💜

[moonspirit]

🌾 Silver Grass Fields 🌾

(Repost because something went wrong last time)

A Pokkopiku oneshot. Set during the four-year timeskip before the Rumbling, Pieck and Porco enjoy a rare afternoon together in a foreign country.

Angst, Mild Fluff, Hurt No Comfort.

[beautyisinkonpaper]

more random reijean (and alliance) headcanons

set post-rumbling - not NSFW

- Reiner is soooo shy (someone else said this one, credit where it's due)

-Given that Reiner's a very attractive man, i think it would be funny to see the alliance's reaction to him getting flirted with

- Jean would be jealous as fuck

- speaking of Jean, he either takes on a leader role post rumbling or he sits back and lets Armin do it. I think he steps down from being a leader tbh, because a large part of why he's a leader is because Marco believed in him, and he didn't want to let Marco down... after the finale, though, i think he lets the memory, and himself, rest. He's not going to live his new life ruled by the expectations of ghosts

- Onyonkapon and Levi become pretty good friends, bonding over Hange's memory. Also, levi deserves friends his age.

- Levi and Annie slowly, slowly get over their ghosts. I like to think he forgives her eventually, but for the most part they only acknowledge each other's existence when they're alone.

- i think Annie LOVES tea, so she makes Levi a cup whenever she makes it for herself. It's sort of an apology. She never was taught how to express emotions with words, so she lets her actions speak.

- Armin and Annie are the Cutest. Couple. Connie and Pieck start a betting pool for when they'll officially get together.

- (someone else said this) Levi Gets a Teashop. they all save up money to buy it, and take turns working and cleaning.

- injury was very very common in the military so they're all quite okay with levi being disabled (i feel like this one should go unsaid but I've seen a lot of casual ableism in fics)

- Pieck's dad adopts everyone. He makes them home cooked meals. I think Jean can cook best out of everyone, but they're all military brats and aren't used to Good Food, especially with the paradis food shortage and lack of world trade. Post Rumbling there's very little in terms of available ingredients, but poor people know how to COOK on limited supplies.

- on the subject of food, how would they all react to SPICE??? armin would cry.

- Levi spends so much time with Gabi and Falco, because all the able bodied adults are helping with rebuilding. He teaches them to say fuck.

- Reiner has Zero survival instincts, because he had titan healing. He's the mf that runs with scissors.

- PIECK HAS POTS!! (yes i'm projecting). her body literally can't handle pumping blood when she's standing vertically, because she was horizontal for so long

- Levi is still the grumpiest bitch on the planet but he loves his kids (he eventually comes to see reiner and peick as children-in-law, because he hasn't cared about them for as long)

- Gabi grows up to look like Sasha. Jean and Connie have forgiven her, but they do have a good cry over it one night.

[kayakima]

“You’re really endearing when you’re stupid, you know that?”

Teasing Ch 9 of Our Whole Lives are Ahead of Us bc the fic is now almost at 2k!!! I never would’ve even imagined to have 2k hits on anything I’ve written before and I’m really excited to share the next chapter!

I’ll be posting Ch 9 on Friday (or when I actually hit 2k whichever happens first)! So stay tuned!!! This one has quite a few twists and turns! I’m excited to share!

[casualaruanienjoyer]

post war Jeanpiku?

Hello anon! Thank you for requesting something so tasty!😭 I love Jeanpiku. I've not writted Pieck so I hope I can nail it!

Anyway, onwards!!

Sharing a bed

Jean and Pieck bicker often. So often, in fact, that their tents at Fort Salta couldn't be further apart.

It's only been a couple of weeks since the rumbling and things were still looking pretty unstable around Fort Salta. Armin, now commander, was tasked with organizing everything from resources to communication. They would do manual labour during the day, and meetings late in the evenings.

Jean was Armin's right hand, and he was there to support him no matter what. But tonight there is no meeting.

The catastrophic events of the rumbling had affected the weather, making it extremely unpredictable. Today was one of those days.

The rainfall was short but heavy enough to damage some tents. Armin and Muller decided it would be best to sort out the issue during daylight, so everyone was asked to form groups and share some of the intact tents for the night.

This is why, unfortunately, Jean is now stuck between a snoring Connie and a smirking Pieck. His tent never felt this small before. They had to push two makeshift mattresses together to fit the three of them, and even so it was still very much shoulder to shoulder. Fortunately for Jean, Connie fell asleep the moment he hit the mattress. At least he didn't have to deal with him tonight. Unfortunately, he has other problems.

Jean rests on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling of their tent. His back feels stiff and he cannot relax for the life of him.

"Look, don't get too cosy in here, alright?" Jean is uncomfortable. Not that those shitty mattresses were ever comfortable to begin with, but at least before all this he had his own space. -Personal- space. Which is now breached by an intruder.

"Aw but Jean, I'm just trying to relax a bit" Pieck teases him. She's resting on her side, awfully close to him.

"Remind me again WHY you had to pick OUR tent to sleep in?" Jean groaned. "Why couldn't you pick Annie's?"

"She's sharing it with her dad, and his reduced mobility means he needs the extra space" she shifts to rest her head in her palm, elbow digging into her pillow. "Besides, I think we need to work on -us- a bit, you know?"

"What does -that- mean?!" He hisses at her, but keeps his voice low. He really doesn't want to deal with two pricks tonight.

"You know, I feel like you don't really like me. And I want to know why". Pieck's hair cascades over her shoulders, and Jean avoids looking at her visible cleavage.

It's not that he didn't like Pieck. After all these years, Jean still didn't know how to approach girls he had a crush on. Yes, Pieck is, unfortunately, exactly his type. Long, black hair, soft eyes and a nice figure. But unlike Mikasa, who was stoic and level-headed, Pieck was seriously driving him nuts: cunning, mysterious and above all, a seductive devil.

She knew exactly what she was doing every time she teased him around camp and every time she tried to hug him tightly. She's manipulative and Jean has no idea how to deal with women like her.

Every other girl he met in the military had always been very righteous, disciplined, well maybe except for Sasha. Pieck is a mystery to him. An alien.

"You're making it very hard for me to like you, quite frankly" he crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. "There's nothing to talk about, we should sleep."

"Ooor, you could tell me what I could do to make you feel more comfortable around me~". She whispers in a low purr, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"First of all, stop that. You always overdo it" Jean manages to look at her, trying to remain calm. But even in the dark she looks so beautiful that he can't help but blush.

"Overdo what, exactly?"

"Y-your flirting. It's not elegant at all." He mutters, looking back up at the ceiling. It's so much easier to talk when her face isn't a distraction.

Pieck's eyes widen. "Flirting? Me? With you??". But her tone is playful.

"Look, if you want something just tell me. I don't enjoy being teased. And I certainly don't like girls who play with my feelings" he shifts, uncomfortable. Now he's done it.

"Is that what you think of me...?" Pieck whispers, sounding somewhat sad.

"Well, you're confusing, that's for sure." He pauses, measuring his words. "Look...guys like girls that are direct." He sighs. "How am I supposed to know if your flirting is genuine or not-?"

"Kiss me"

Jean blinks. Once, twice. His face reddens.

"What?!"

"You want me to be direct? I can be. So kiss me." She whispers, pointing at her lips.

This can't be real.

"Pieck, I swear, if this is another one of your games-"

"Jean, I know you like me"

Silence. Utter silence. Jean wishes he could disappear.

"W-what makes you think that?!"

"You're not very good at hiding it, you know?" She laughs softly.

Jean closed his eyes, thinking of of all the choices that led to this very moment. All the times he found himself glancing her way. The times where they worked together day and night. The way she made him feel like he was falling in love again. He was already a lost cause, might as well go for it, right? "And what if I do?"

"Then kiss me"

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !