#rise- ymir

[afarcry5fromstraight]

fighting a monster just as proud as me

[guardian-angelxiv]

Next in the event series, Val and Una!

Seriously, these two are so fun to pose

[scionshtola]

18, 27, 47 for corishtola 🥺

thank u hannah! 💗💗

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

When Shtola is sick or wounded there’s not much Cori can do practically to make her heal but she does her best to make sure Shtola is comfortable. I imagine Shtola to be the kind of person who ignores being sick until she can’t ignore it anymore lol and at that point Cori will make her soup, fluff her pillows, ensure she has books nearby even if she won’t read them, and eventually let her knock out in her lap because she still won’t go to bed 😂 when she’s injured Cori makes sure to check up on her and does their best to limit Y’mhitra’s worried lectures while Shtola heals

On the other side of this, Shtola can heal Cori and has done so in the past. She’s not super gentle but she does work steadily and is very practiced, Cori trusts her healing more than anyone else. When Cori is sick Shtola makes sure she has the proper remedies and is resting and if Cori wants her to be around then she will make camp nearby. Mostly she will wait for Cori to ask her for things vs Cori is a bit more proactive because I think the caretaking in this way comes more naturally to them!

27. answered here!

47. Do they sleep beside each other? Why or why not?

When they are in the same place yes! I just think they like being near each other, and it’s comforting to have the other nearby when they’re sleeping, plus they do like a good cuddle (Cori especially lol). I imagine they don’t necessarily go to sleep at the same time—Shtola strikes me as the kind of person who could easily stay up til like 3am without meaning to and then she just crawls into bed with Cori who’s been asleep for like 4 hours already and they will wake up before her and make breakfast.

[it-lives-202289]

My Day 2 vote for A Hero Rises goes to Summer Duo Ymir.

[stayallnite]

nowplaying Ethica Odini (Verftet Online Festival 2020) by Enslaved out of The Rise of Ymir (Verftet Online Festival 2020)

[mikareo]

megumi doing smth pls

⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.

contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)

i. what is love at first sight

it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.

there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.

humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.

okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.

"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.

megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"

"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."

"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."

"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."

ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.

"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.

"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"

he hates him so much.

"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"

it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.

"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."

love you?

"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."

he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.

ii. what is love that is forbidden

you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.

after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.

"uh, fushiguro..."

he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"

"i think i locked us in here."

dammit.

"you forgot the key?" he asks.

"i forgot the key." you confirm.

of course you did.

with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.

it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.

"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.

with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.

your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.

"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."

"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."

to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"

"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"

the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."

"fushiguro..."

"call me by my first name."

"...megumi."

you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.

megumi fushiguro is a coward.

...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.

iii. what is love that is hopeless

"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."

his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.

"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."

his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."

"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."

"you're not going."

he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."

"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"

"life isn't a game!" he's furious.

"well mine is!" you're angry as well.

why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?

"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."

without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.

it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.

but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"

he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.

1.) find a way to save you.

2.) tell you he's yours forever.

iv. what is love everlasting

he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.

from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.

megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.

"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"

he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."

a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."

why are you saying all of this?

now of all times?

you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!

"...megumi..."

"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.

"...i don't want to die."

a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.

"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."

he's a monster.

you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.

gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.

he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.

"i love you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 1

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . 🗝 .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

next–⊱

𝟎𝟏 | 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥

chapter word count: 3.1 k

content warnings: canon typical racism, blanket warnings

a/n: First chapter done!

It took me about a month to finally publish this, cause I kept coming back and changing the setting, characters and pacing lol. I'll try to update semi regularly, and I'm counting on my outline to scoop me out of writer's block. This chapter, as well as others, are still subject to minor changes, depending on how the story evolves. Also, happy birthday Zeke! (And Reiner)

Thanks for reading!

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋 around you, mimicking the panicked torrent of thoughts stampeding through your mind. The ground beneath your fingers crumbles as you press onto it, sending more and more rubble up in the air.

Debris prickles at your eyes and cinders hack at your lungs. Your hair rises up and down and up again, and your heart rushes in your chest, palpitating with dread and confusion.

Where in the hell are you?

You wheeze, desperate to regain control over your breathing, your hand coming up to clutch the fabric of your shirt. Your eyes fight against the dirt to stay wide open, unwilling to forfeit information about the unknown situation you find yourself in.

An unsettling figure approaches you through the dust, their figure haloed by the afternoon sun. Alarms ring in your ears, and you scramble back on your hands and feet until your back crashes against a wall.

The figure stops, and as the dust clouds begin to dissipate, you catch a glimpse of the person on the other side.

Tall, lanky, and with an unreadable face, a blonde woman stares back at you, her blank expression contrasting your own.

The ringing in your ears subsides, beginning to bleed into the voice of the woman.

"–hear me?"

The woman tilts her head to the side, examining your figure. A second question is posed in your head.

"You–" Your voice breaks. "Who are you?"

Her eyes narrow slightly, and it almost drives you mad how little you can read her. Was this a kidnapping? But then, wouldn't you be bound with ropes or zip ties?

Your breath hitches when she comes closer, crouching, her face invading your vision. Her blunt cut hair tickles your cheeks, and your widened eyes dart around. Surely this was a mistake, right? Maybe she is just concerned for you; after all, that was quite the nasty fall you had experienced. Or so you think, as you can't recall what exactly you were doing here.

Yes, a fainting spell would explain everything. Mild concussion, spotty memory, concerned woman.

"You are not Ymir," she states.

Your thoughts of kidnappings and falls halt. The name the woman had uttered loops endlessly in your mind and everything falls silent.

There is absolutely no way.

"The... the goddess?" you ask in a small voice, not entirely believing in her factual way of saying it.

A beat passes. You clench your hands together, softly crushing small pieces of the rock that formed the terrace, further encrusting them into your palms. Jesus, would it kill this woman to blink once?

She looks you up and down, like there was something in your appearance that would tell her you were a fictional deity from an anime series.

"Who else?"

This lady is crazy. There was simply no other way of putting it, this lady is crazy. Yeah, you like Attack on Titan as much as the next person, but you don't go around claiming random strangers are characters in the show.

A scoff exits your mouth, your lips slightly curving at the ridiculous situation.

"Yeah, sure, and you're Eren Jaeger."

Silence envelops you both, your small grin faltering at her piercing gaze. She removes herself from your personal space, standing up and looking down at you.

A brief moment elapsed. You finally take in your surroundings, the ruins of an old castle taking away what little of your breath remained. Columns are erected at both sides of the vast courtyard, and you notice a few people mingling around. Oddly, both are looking in your direction. You still don't know how you got there, but you are sure that your memory will clear after a while.

"I fear I still haven't presented myself."

Her words send shivers down your neck, your body unconsciously anticipating the information, your eyes snapping at her face. You feel yourself leaning into the sound of her voice, entranced, as if she were a siren and you a sailor stranded on a rock.

"My name is Yelena."

You freeze.

No. No, she couldn't be serious.

"I am part of the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. And you–" she narrows her eyes, "–shouldn't know that name."

Time slows down. Worlds are created from space debris, stars go supernova, civilizations flourish and perish. A miniature Big Bang reverberates in your consciousness, your psyche connecting and disconnecting plot points, characters, arcs, settings.

"I–" you chuckle nervously, "What? So you mean to tell me this is Eldia?"

"Marley, actually."

Your jaw drops. You have half a mind to tell her off, to stand up and dust your pants whilst chuckling at this woman's, at Yelena's, absurd story. And yet, something in her eyes tells you that she is not joking.

Your lips mouth an Oh, a headache forming while still struggling to accept this strange new reality you found yourself in. One where titans and goddesses and a boy with aquamarine eyes all exist.

Reality? No, no it couldn't be. A dream then. A very strange but realistic dream. You just need to ride it out, flow with it until time comes for you to wake up, relinquishing all opportunity to control it as always, unlike many of the people who claimed to command their lucid dreams. And you would start your day as you always did, and you would forget your dreams as you always did.

"You will come with me. We might have not gotten Ymir, but you... something tells me you are a good compromise."

Okay. Maybe not a dream.

Your eyebrows furrow and an objection rises in your throat, instantly extinguished under Yelena's intense glare. Closing your mouth, you find yourself once again surveying the terrace, this time more attentively.

If Yelena was truly who she said she was, then both of the other people were also likely Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. You even catch the eye of a dark skinned man – who you are nearly certain was Onyankopon – who is the one positioned closest to Yelena.

He looks at you with curiosity, but does not make a move to talk or walk towards you. And why would he? You may know his kind heart, but he doesn't know yours. Knowing someone without them knowing you was a strange feeling that you are not sure you like.

You exhale deeply, your hands coming up to your knees to aid you in standing up. While you aren't exactly ecstatic to be under Yelena's unsettling gaze for one more moment, there is truly no other option for you here, unless you fancy being taken in less as an invitee and more like a prisoner.

You dust off your pants and follow Yelena, as she turns around and makes some kind of sign to another Volunteer. They file around you, relatively close for you to distinguish their faces, but not enough for you to call them wardens.

You keep your eyes firmly planted on the back of Yelena's head, not wanting to appear nervous. You will your hands to relax and your breathing to even out, mentally preparing plan after contingency plan, drawing in everything you remembered about the characters' personalities.

No one talks to you still.

The train journey to, well, somewhere, is filled with awkward silence.

You fiddle with the loose threads of your jeans, your appearance making you stick out amongst the sea civilians spread out in the dark green booths. The coat and white armband they had given you did little to help feel like you blended in, not because of the garment, but because of the three people in your train cart that were aware of the separation between them and you. Neither meets your eye, but you had caught the man you didn't know the name of drilling holes into the back of your skull.

Yelena sits across from you in the cramped booth, alternating between scrutinizing you and looking out the window with half lidded eyes. You are ninety percent sure she was already figuring out the best way to integrate your abrupt arrival into Zeke's plan, replacing whatever role Ymir would have had had she appeared instead of you.

A shudder runs down your spine at the thought of the holder of the beast titan. If Yelena freaked you out, you definitely did not want to meet with him. At least Yelena was cold to you from the beginning, not bridging the line into a constructed friendly territory.

On the other hand, Zeke is nice, smart, charismatic. He would not hesitate to sacrifice you for his cause like Yelena, but he would stab you in the back with your birthday cake knife.

You hope that knowing of his future plans would enable you to see through him, read him less like an open book and more like an unknown language that looked similar to your mother tongue.

At one of the moments when Yelena wasn't watching you, you risk a glance at her figure. She looks about the same age as her animated counterpart, so you deduce that you must be a stone's throw away from canon, or already in it.

You slump against the plush seat, sighing. She is still in Marley, so they have not gone into contact with Paradis yet. Probably.

Oh god, Paradis.

If Marley is real, then Paradis is also real. And if Paradis, and more importantly, its walls are also real...

The thread you are pulling on snaps, directing your eyes towards your lap, noticing the tip of your fingers are stained an irritated red from twirling the strings around.

You clear your throat awkwardly, absentmindedly shifting in your seat.

"So, uh– where are we going, exactly?"

Your question is rewarded with Yelena's half lidded attention. Your eyes itch to look away, but you press on, determined to get answers out of the Volunteer.

"Apologies. It seems I haven't been clear enough."

The sentence alone is enough to fill you with dread, her calm tone doing wonders at sounding threatening. Maybe you are overthinking everything, but you can't help notice the juxtaposition between her serene intonation and the unhinged woman of your memories.

"You know things. Things that normal people shouldn't know. No – don't try to deny it," she says, putting her hand up when you try to protest.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," you lie through your teeth.

"You mentioned Eren Jaeger. Care to share how you know that name?"

You curse your ingenuity a few minutes ago, when you believed all of this to be some elaborate prank you had become the unwilling victim of. But who would automatically jump to the conclusion that they had been transmigrated to a fictional world?

When you fail to come up with a believable excuse as to why you knew of someone across the sea, Yelena takes your silence as its own answer.

"And then there's the matter of what you were doing in the ruins of the old Eldian empire."

You are rendered speechless once again. Scenes of a cruel king, a flying spear, and dried blood on rocks flash before your eyes, realizing a few minutes ago you were on the same spot where Ymir was killed. That explains why Yelena implied she was expecting her instead of you.

Maybe you could spin this in your favor. You blurt out your next words impulsively, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Maybe I am Ymir."

An unimpressed eyebrow rises on Yelena's forehead, not a single ounce of belief in her eyes. It is clear she knows you were lying out of your ass here, but you stand your ground.

"Need I remind you of how you scoffed at my words? Or maybe of how you referred to Ymir in the third person?"

Silence.

You fold. The pressure is too much, and you can't keep this ridiculous charade in front of her. Your fists clench and you look down, your face heating up from embarrassment.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not Ymir," you mumble.

A millionth of a fraction of Yelena's eyes softens. "I did think you were her for a second. Weird clothes, weirder confusion. Not to mention the tornado we found you in. But no," –she shakes her head– "you had the wrong age, and the wrong personality. At least according to our records."

"You still haven't answered my question," you retort, ignoring the sound part of your brain that was screaming at you to not provoke her, completely smoothing over her comment about a tornado. That was a problem for future you.

She simply smiles at you, slightly tilting her head to the side.

"Liberio."

This by itself is enough for you to slightly widen your eyes, the name of the city yet another confirmation of the world you are now in. What you know of Liberio sifts through your mind, alternating between images of a joyful festival, a declaration of war, and giant footsteps, turning all into nothing more than ash and dried blood. Yelena chuckles, identifying the hint of recognition in your eyes.

You fight back a shiver, both at her reaction, and at what is written to come.

Other than the tense and brief conversation between you and Yelena, nothing of importance happens on the train ride to Liberio. You simply shrink back into your seat, occasionally lifting your gaze from the floor to the fast paced view of the window.

After what feels like an eternity, a city replaces large fields of green and the train skids to a halt. Yelena stands up, and you follow her and the other two Volunteers out of the cart. Taking Onyankopon's hand when stepping down the train, you take in your first impression of Liberio.

It is... underwhelming to say the least.

The modern comforts and views you had experienced in your modern life make it difficult for you to be awed by an old timey train station, no matter how unbelievable the context with which you had come to it was. And yet, it had its small charms.

Small, because, just as you exit, a guard starts barking orders at the few of you with armbands. You are stunned for a second, not expecting the animosity with which you would be treated. Yelena grabs your arm, bringing you out of your brief stupor, and starts walking towards a sentry post.

"Don't stay behind," are the only words she provides.

You and Yelena, the only ones with armbands in your little Volunteer group, are ushered away into a line. Onyankopon and the other guy disappear into the crowd when you take your eyes off of them, too preoccupied with not straying from Yelena's steady steps.

One by one, the people in front of you present their own documents, verifying and validating their own reasons for being outside the internment zone. You shuddered. Internment zone, as if they were all animals under Marley's control and mercy.

You watch the same papers with which they bought your ticket be presented to the man in the booth, his mustache slightly curling in disgust as he takes in your white armbands. You curl into yourself, feeling awkward in your own skin, your eyes glossing over as you try to tune him out.

" – and this is his daughter."

Yelena's and the guards' sharp gazes turn to you, her voice pointedly signaling for you to speak.

You spout back the fake backstory the Volunteers had fed you beforehand. According to your legal documents, you are now the daughter of a diseased Eldian soldier, left alone after his death on the battlefield. The guards eyes flicker between you and the papers, making you squirm in place.

"So, uh, yeah, I'm staying with my father's distant relative," you finish lamely.

He gives you another do over with his eyes, narrowing them, before simply stamping something on the top sheet.

"Next!"

You let out a breath as you are once again whisked away by Yelena into a shuttle flanked by Marleyan soldiers, waiting for the handful of people still standing by for their turn to be inspected. You step inside the green tent set up in the back, sitting on one of the hard, wooden benches that adorn the interior.

Eventually, the truck's engine sputters to life, and starts moving towards what you assume to be the Eldian neighborhoods in the internment zone.

You stay still for the rest of the ride, as did the others, only swaying gently when the vehicle brakes or makes a turn, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your too large coat. Not once do you look up to examine the faces of the other passengers with the limited sunlight that made its way inside the tarp.

After a while, you and Yelena finally exit the truck, making a beeline towards the large gates that marked the beginning of the zone. Like in the series, the big gates are open to welcome your small group, the guards choosing to loudly direct you towards it.

The tense silence between you two is only broken by the constant tip taps of your shoes against the rocks of the street. Couples, families and small children are all walking around that afternoon, and you crane your neck in order to see the various brick buildings scattered throughout the main avenue. Black lampposts line the street, and you guess that they'll turn on in a couple of hours, when the sunlight is no longer enough to illuminate the pavement.

Yelena steps into a much smaller street, almost an alleyway, and beckons for you to follow. The dark alley, in contrast to the crowded and well-lit avenue, only echoes your own stride, your breaths suddenly multiplying in noise.

She comes to a stop in front of an old wooden door, her hand fishing a key out of her pocket. The lock clicks, the door whines, and you are hastened inside.

You blink continuously, your eyes taking time to acclimate themselves to the inside. An old, basic room greets you, your nose detecting the faintest notes of woody bark and aged blankets.

Your ears zero in on the drip of the kitchen faucet. A raggedy, almost oxidized tap leaks to your right, making you turn to the origin of the sound. The lack of food and personal items betrays the house's status as one that was barely used, adding to your discomfort and the eerie atmosphere.

"Wait here a moment, please."

Yelena turns to you from the far left of the room, her hand on the handle of another door. It opens with a creak, and, as she steps inside, you are treated with a glimpse of gray eyes behind circular glasses. 

taglist: @dressycobra7

ask or comment to be added!

[abbyslev]

popular

hange, ellie williams, shoko, ymir, vi, ur fav idk

NSFW ASFFFF read at your own warning

“since you wanna be such a whore online.” she ran her hands down your body, lips against your ear.

you grabbed onto her wrist, nails softly digging into her skin. She fixed the camera slightly, so all you could see was your body, all bare and spread out, and her behind you. Your two faces were hidden.

“since you want to post your ass for everyone to see. is that what you like, to be such a slut online?” she teased. you didn’t answer, a quiet whimper leaving your chest. two cold fingers pinched your nipple. you moaned, back arching up. “n-no! i’m sorry!” you whined. her free hand pushed you back down, making a noise of disapproval.

she opened your mouth, eyes looking deep into yours. her twin fingers slipped in your mouth, covering them with your spit. “atta girl…” she said, watching as you sucked and swirled around her fingers. she took them out of your mouth, softly massaging your thighs. you were already dripping and it was humiliating. she hadn’t even touched you yet and you were already soaked.

her wet, cold fingers finally touched your aching clit. you closed your legs, letting out a filthy moan. she spread them against hardly, making a noise of disapproval. “you chose to be bad. you deserve this.” she made small circles on your clit. she took a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at yourself through the monitor.

“you think good girls do what you did? you think you deserve what you want?” she kissed your ear, her tongue running down your jaw. “n-no.” “so why’d you do it?” she asked, kissing your neck. you moaned, leaning into her touch.

her fingers thrusted into you, no warning. “oh, fuck.” you rolled your head back, as she started pumping her fingers in you slowly. “you didn’t answer me, princess.” “because i’m a bad slut.” you manage to get out. “that’s right.” she kissed you harshly, her fingers going at a faster pace. your legs start to shake, chest rising and falling.

she could feel you clench around her, your moans becoming needier and needier. “look at how filthy you are.” she grinned. a rim of white coated her fingers. “p-please…” you felt your stomach tighten, vision starting to blur.

she toyed with your clit with her free hand, watching you twitch uncontrollably. your hand reached back towards her, lewd sounds coming from your mouth. “you’re such a slut.” she giggled. you slowly came down from your high, breath uneven and legs still trembling. she popped her fingers back in your mouth, smiling into your cheek. “dirty whore.” she took her fingers out of your mouth, kissing you right after.

her hands grabbed your tits, squeezing them both. “my pretty slut.”

[setsunasbabe]

they propose to you during the eras tour

x gender neutral reader

with aot, bnha, jjk, kny, haikyuu, tokyo rev, bleach, bsd, csm, bllk, hxh, op, naruto, ons characters

the kind of partner who would propose to you during Love Story at a Taylor Swift concert. they saw this idea once on tiktok and directly thought of your obsession for the singer. they don't even like her music that much and proposing at a concert wasn't on their bucketlist. however, when they saw the way you reacted to one of these videos. they decide to put their pride aside and make this moment worth it for you. they asked the person behind you to film so they'd have a souvenir (and a proof) of their proposal. as you're singing along to the song you realise you don't see your partner in your peripheral vision. your heart race slowly rises up but drastically accelerates as you see them crouching on the ground with a box in their hand. as they ask you to marry them you say yes (obviously) and rush to hug them as a tear of happiness rolls down on your cheek. indeed it was rare and you were there.

aot: JEAN KIRSTEIN, mikasa ackerman, ymir, armin arlert, reiner braun

bnha: kyouka jirou, katsuki bakugo, SHOTO TODOROKI, himiko toga, eijirou kirishima, SETSUNA TOKAGE

jjk: YUUJI ITADORI, megumi fushiguro, SATORU GOJO, mai zenin, yuuta okkotsu, choso kamo

kny: IGURO OBANAI, mitsuri kanroji, AKAZA, kanao tsuyuri, kyojuro rengoku

hq: tooru oikawa, IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, atsumu miya, eita semi, keiji akaashi, morisuke yaku

tokyo rev: takashi mitsuya, SEISHU INUI, rindou haitani, manjiro sano, CHIFUYU MATSUNO

bleach: rukia kuchiki, SHINJI HIRAKO, grimmjow jaegerjaquez, renji abarai, soi fon

bsd: chuuya nakahara, michizo tachihara, tecchou suehiro, LUCY MONTGOMERY, ichiyo higuchi

csm: asa mitaka, denji (he would mess up the lyrics), aki hayakawa, reze, quanxi

bllk: yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, REO MIKAGE, ranze kurona, tabito karasu, rin itoshi

hxh: machi komacine, pakunoda, chrollo lucilfer

op: VINSMOKE SANJI, portgas d. ace, nami, nico robin

naruto: sakura haruno, ROCK LEE, hinata hyuga

ons: mikaela hyakuya, shinya hiragi

and your favs...

-"He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said

'Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone

I love you, and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say yes'"-

- "Love Story (Taylor's Version)", Fearless (Taylor's Version), Taylor Swift

masterlist

dividers by @v6que

[ridingtorohan]

Who is most likely to give their S/O petnames, and what?

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist _ Join the taglist _ Ask box

Connie, hands-down, makes the most use of it. He'll drop "babe" left, right and center. "Babe, pass me that bag," "aw, babe, you're so cute", "hey, what does Jean mean, babe?" He's over the top with it and says it within earshot of everyone. Rarely ever uses your name honestly.

Historia drops it accidentally and without much thought. She fluctuates a lot between what she uses but "sweetie" and "honey" often take the cake. "Can you grab that for me, sweetie?" "Honey, no!"

Mikasa rarely, rarely does in casual conversation. But she'll occasionally quip with "you're my love, of course I'm going to protect you". She's all about more ''abstract'' sentiments like "my world".

Jean, like Historia, also often goes with "sweetie". Though he alternates often with "babe" and other sentiments. He usually says it in private conversation but does often replace your name with "my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner" in conversation with other people. Also is prone to calling you "my pretty/handsome girl/boyfriend" or "baby girl/baby boy" to your face.

Zeke really doesn't do petnames. Though occasionally he drops it in conversation with other people. "(Name), my partner, ...."

Pieck is all about petnames! She alternates alot between what she uses. She'll use anything and everything, even ''toast''.

Porco also uses petnames somewhat. Unlike Connie's flamboyant use of "babe", he drops it more casually. Might call you "baby girl/baby boy" if you ask him or respond well to it.

Hange is also pretty 'up there' with the "babe" term. Though they fluctuate a bit with "light of my life", "sweetness", "gorgeous / handsome", especially if they want something or are up to something mischevious.

Ymir often goes with "sweetheart" and "princess". Usually it's done in a teasing manner to get a rise out of you but she can mean it sentimentally too.

Levi calls you "brat".

Erwin actually refers to you as "my girl/my boy"! He often says it when he's endeared, comforting you, or in private.

Sasha often chooses random nicknames! ...Like "hot potato" or "cinnamon roll". Though she does go for sentimental ones, especially when she's wanting something or feeling especially affectionate, like "sweetheart, baby", etc.

Armin probably accidentally dropped "sweetheart" once and then hastily corrected himself, redfaced. Keeps accidentally dropping it and gets so flustered over it, no matter how long you two have been together.

Reiner actually probably cycles through a bunch until you find one that you both like. Uses it fairly regularly and is downright flattered if you do the same.

Annie's is definitely more abstract and circumstantial. If you earned her ire before or did something "over the top" like always hugging her, she probably calls you "koala".

[thewisecheerio]

Elden Ring Map Overlay

Someone made a really helpful overlay of Elden Ring's base game map with its DLC map. https://www.reddit.com/r/Eldenring/comments/1dmm27d/so_i_overlaid_the_dlcs_map_with_the_base_games/

A few things stuck out to me:

The Church District, and especially Ymir's chapel, would have been a wonderful gazing ground for the Erdtree, as the Erdtree sits just north of it.

The heart of the Erdtree is right over Shaman Village, which makes me wonder if that's why the Erdtree is located where it is. It also makes me wonder if that's why the Shadow Realm is left with only a minor Erdtree in its place—a pale imitation of what was there before.

The back of the Shadow Keep abuts the furthest reaches of the capital, including the Erdtree Sanctuary and Marika's bedchamber. Her room is filled with scrolls and tablets that look very similar to those of the Keep, lending credence to the theory circulating about her having taken them from the Keep originally before it was sealed away. At the time, it probably wasn't much of a walk from the Storehouse's library to her chambers.

Messmer's chamber was built over what would be the Colosseum in Leyndell. The Duelist Helm tells us, "The snake is viewed as a traitor to the Erdtree, and the audience delighted in seeing these bronze effigies beaten and battered." Because of this helm, people had already been guessing that Messmer is why snakes are so reviled in gladiatorial imagery.

The timing doesn't fit his crusade, though—which likely has to post-date Godfrey's exile and the creation of the Tarnished, since he knows the word "Tarnished". Meanwhile, the Colosseums were around in Godfrey's time as Lord. So if the visual placement of his chamber and the colosseum (and the Duelist Helm) is purposeful, it makes me wonder what happened earlier in regards to him that would cause that connection. Maybe it's just a coincidence of map placement, but it's certainly suspicious. Was Marika playing a long con, slowly turning the culture against snakes, knowing what she would eventually do to seal her serpentine son away?

Stone Coffin Fissure's entrance, where St. Trina is imprisoned, extends between Gatefront Ruins and an evergaol in Limgrave. This makes me wonder if that's intentional, given that Stone Coffin Fissure does become Trina's jail. The gaols even glow with a sleep-purple hue, keeping their occupants in stasis and cut off from the reviving powers of the Erdtree.

The bull headed stone coffins are even more mysterious. When the Lands of Shadow are divorced from the Lands Between, they look as if they have come from across the Cerulean Sea. But when the lands are merged, that sea becomes a lake.

Does that mean this burial ritual is post-Crusade? That's a bit hard to square with the idea that the Ancestral Follower religion seems quite old, being connected to the Eternal Cities. And that religion's iconography involving bulls does make it the best contender for where these coffins come from.

So does that imply these were originally burials-at-lake instead of burials-at-sea, maybe rising onto the Cerulean Coast during the division of the Lands? Perhaps the lake they were buried in simply became a coastline as the water that would have otherwise covered them rushed out into what became an endless sea, exposing the lake bottom's treasures.

The Abyssal Woods is at a very deep elevation. So is the Forsaken Chapel where the Three Fingers dwells. The latter is still quite a walk from the Abyssal Woods, but it does make me wonder if the two used to be connected by further subterranean tunnels extending beyond what still exists in the capital's sewers. And I wonder if that's how Midra reached the Three Fingers.

[garden-of-deep-purple]

Rellana is doomed. I headcanon that in the beginning Ensis Moongazing grounds weren't so lonely. The items imply that there were plenty of Carians who followed her so perhaps at the time we reach Rellana all of them are dead. Even Ymir, her dear mentor, saw a different aim and fled. She can't turn back because of her oaths to Messmer, and because of her own people who sacrificed their lives for her to rise and fight. I definitely can see how Rellana dreams of her home in distant Liurnia but she knows that she wouldn't go back, even if she had the chance

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Thirty Three

The forest was serene, almost deceptively so, as Historia sat on a fallen log, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The distant hum of the wind weaving through the trees barely masked the tension that hung between her and Porco. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, his jaw tight and his eyes fixed on the ground.

“This is pointless,” Historia muttered, her voice breaking the silence. “Every idea we come up with falls apart before it even begins. The Rumbling feels inevitable.”

Porco shifted, his brows furrowing deeper. “It’s not just a feeling. It is inevitable,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “There’s no talking Marley—or the rest of the world—out of their hatred for this island. It’s not just something they can unlearn. They’ve built their entire existence around the idea that you’re devils.”

Historia’s shoulders sagged, and she looked down at her hands. “So that’s it, then? We’re just supposed to accept it?”

Porco pushed off the tree and stepped closer, shaking his head. “You think I want that? That I want the people I left behind to suffer for something they had no control over? My people in the internment zones. They’re the ones who’ll pay the price if this happens.”

“And so will we,” she countered, lifting her gaze to meet his. Her blue eyes shimmered with emotion, and Porco’s breath hitched. “If the world attacks Paradis first, they’ll slaughter everyone here. Including the child growing inside Aurora. Including Eren. Including me.”

Porco’s fists clenched at his sides. He hated this. Every angle, every decision, led to more death, more pain. He was a soldier, but for once in his life, he wanted to fight for something other than destruction.

Historia’s voice softened, her vulnerability shining through. “You’ve seen all of them by now, haven’t you? The memories. Ymir’s memories.”

Porco froze. His connection to her had started with Ymir, but somewhere along the line, it had become his connection. His own feelings. He nodded stiffly. “Yeah. I’ve seen them.”

“What did you see?” she asked quietly.

He let out a shaky breath, stepping even closer to her. “I saw you. Back when you pretended to be Christa. I saw Ymir looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in this damn world. And I get it now. I didn’t then, but I do now.”

Historia’s lip quivered, and she bit down on it to stop it from trembling. “Ymir… she always told me to live for myself. To stop pretending to be someone else.”

“And you did,” Porco said, his voice softer now. “She’d be proud of you. Hell, I’m proud of you, and I barely know what the hell I’m doing here.”

She let out a weak laugh, wiping at her eyes. “It’s all so messed up. You inherited Ymir’s titan because she sacrificed herself to save Reiner and Bertholdt. You’re here, protecting me, when you were supposed to kill me. And Marcel—” Her voice caught, and she looked away. “I’m sorry about Marcel. If it wasn’t for Ymir…”

Porco closed the distance between them, kneeling in front of her so she couldn’t look away. “Don’t. Don’t blame her, and don’t blame yourself. I’ve already made peace with what happened to Marcel. What’s killing me now is figuring out what to do next.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “Leaving Marley? Coming here?”

He reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing against hers. “No. The only thing I regret is that I can’t figure out how to fix this. How to keep you safe. How to save my people without destroying yours.”

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. Porco didn’t see the queen of the walls in front of him, and Historia didn’t see the Jaw Titan. They saw two people trying to make sense of an impossible situation, tethered together by shared pain, shared memories, and something deeper than either of them could put into words.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” Historia whispered. “Not you, not Eren, not Aurora, not my people. But I don’t know how to stop it.”

Porco’s hand tightened around hers. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

The words felt hollow, but they were all he had to offer. 

…

Meanwhile, Eren was pacing near the compound’s main building, his brows furrowed as he scanned the grounds for Aurora. She had wandered off after the meeting, and something about the way she had been acting lately nagged at him. He trusted her completely, but his instincts told him something wasn’t right.

He turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps and froze. Captain Levi was striding toward him with purpose, his face a storm cloud of determination. Behind him trailed Aurora, her expression panicked, her movements hurried as though she were trying to stop Levi from reaching him.

The moment Eren’s eyes locked on Aurora’s, she immediately looked away, her gaze dropping to the ground like a guilty child caught in a lie. Eren’s chest tightened. What the hell was going on?

Levi didn’t waste any time. “Jaeger, we’ve got a problem,” he said curtly, his tone as sharp as his blades. “And you’re not going to like it.”

Eren’s emerald eyes flicked between Levi’s grim face and Aurora’s tense posture. She stood behind the captain, wringing her hands, biting her lip as though bracing herself for an oncoming storm. That look sent a chill down Eren’s spine.

“What’s going on?” Eren asked, his voice calm but laced with unease.

Levi crossed his arms. “Our queen has been sneaking around with the Jaw Titan. Porco Galliard has been hiding near this compound for months, and Aurora here has known the entire time.”

Time seemed to freeze. Eren’s expression darkened as the words sank in, and his eyes slowly turned to Aurora, who winced under the weight of his piercing gaze. “What?” His voice was quiet, but it carried a sharp edge.

Aurora stepped forward, her heart pounding. “Eren, I was going to tell you—”

“Were you?” he interrupted, his tone colder than she’d ever heard before. His fists clenched at his sides as he tried to process Levi’s revelation. “Months, Aurora? You’ve known for months. And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “I thought I could handle it. Historia is my friend, and I trusted her. Porco hasn’t done anything hostile—”

Eren’s laugh was bitter, cutting her off. “Not hostile? He’s the Jaw Titan, Aurora. He’s the enemy. How do you know he’s not manipulating Historia? How do you know he’s not planning something?”

“I—I don’t,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “But Historia… she loves him. He’s not here to hurt anyone, Eren. Please believe me.”

Eren shook his head, taking a step back as though her words physically stung him. “That’s not the point. The point is you didn’t tell me. We’re supposed to trust each other, Aurora. I’ve never lied to you—not once. Why couldn’t you come to me with this important?”

Aurora’s guilt consumed her, tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was betraying you. I was scared of what you’d think, scared of what you’d do. I was trying to protect everyone.”

Eren’s jaw tightened. “You were trying to protect everyone except me. Do you know how that feels? To know that the one person I trust above anyone else has been hiding something this important from me?”

Levi watched the exchange with crossed arms, his expression unreadable, but he finally spoke. “Enough,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension. “You two can have your lovers’ spat later. Right now, we’ve got a much bigger problem to deal with. Porco Galliard is an enemy shifter on our turf. This isn’t just about trust—it’s about security. You need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”

Eren’s gaze burned into Aurora for a moment longer before he finally exhaled and turned his attention back to Levi. “Where is Historia now?”

“Probably sneaking out to meet him again,” Levi said bluntly. “If we move fast, we can catch them both.”

Eren nodded stiffly. “Let’s go.”

As Levi turned to lead the way, Aurora grabbed Eren’s arm, her voice desperate. “Eren, please—”

He paused but didn’t look at her. “We’ll talk later,” he said coldly, his words slicing through her like a blade.

Aurora released his arm and watched helplessly as Eren and Levi walked away, her heart shattering under the weight of her guilt.…

Eren stormed through the compound with Levi right beside him, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with anger. Aurora followed a few steps behind, her heart heavy with guilt. She’d never seen Eren this upset before, and the sharpness in his voice earlier still echoed painfully in her mind. She had always been his confidant, the one person he trusted completely—and now, that trust was fractured.

As they approached the rest of the scouts, Eren’s expression was thunderous. Mikasa, Armin, Hange, Jean, Connie, and Sasha stood in a loose group outside the central building. Floch was nearby, barking orders at a couple of Jaegerists before turning to join the gathering. The moment they saw Eren and Levi’s grim expressions, the air grew heavy with tension.

“What’s going on?” Hange asked, tilting her head curiously. “You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Levi didn’t mince words. “We’ve got a problem. A big one.”

Eren crossed his arms, his gaze hard as steel. “The Jaw Titan has been hiding on this compound for months. And he’s been meeting with Historia in secret.”

The revelation hit like a thunderclap.

“What?!” Jean’s voice shot up. “You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Connie’s mouth hung open. “The enemy… here? And with Historia?”

Sasha looked between them, her face pale. “How is that even possible? Wouldn’t someone have noticed?”

Floch’s face twisted with fury. “You’re telling me the enemy has been here this whole time, right under our noses? This is unacceptable!”

Armin, ever the voice of reason, tried to calm the rising tension. “Wait—there has to be an explanation. Maybe Porco is—”

Eren cut him off sharply. “There’s no explanation that justifies keeping this from me.” His voice was like a blade, cold and cutting. His eyes flicked to Aurora, and she flinched under his gaze. “Aurora knew. For months.”

The scouts turned to Aurora, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

“You knew?” Mikasa asked softly, her tone tinged with disbelief.

Aurora’s voice trembled as she tried to explain. “I thought… I thought I could handle it. Porco hasn’t done anything hostile, and Historia trusted him. I didn’t want to cause more chaos when we’re already under so much pressure.”

Floch scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Unbelievable. You’re telling me you put all of us at risk because you ‘thought you could handle it’? What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Floch, that’s enough,” Armin said, his voice firm. “Let’s not turn this into a witch hunt.”

Eren ignored the growing argument and turned to Aurora. His voice was low but laced with steel. “Where’s their meeting spot?”

Aurora hesitated, her heart sinking further. “Eren, please… don’t do anything rash. Just—”

“Where. Is. It?” Eren demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a shaky breath, Aurora finally gave him the location. “The woods, near the northern edge of the compound. There’s a small clearing there.”

Eren nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched. “Go back to our room.”

“What?” Aurora blinked, taken aback. “Eren, I—”

“Go back to our room,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time. “Now.”

Aurora opened her mouth to protest, but the anger and hurt in Eren’s eyes stopped her. She nodded silently, turning away with her heart feeling like it was shattering into pieces. She walked back toward their quarters, her head bowed, tears threatening to spill. She had never felt so distant from him before.

“Eren, you don’t have to be so harsh,” Armin said, stepping forward. “She was just trying to help.”

Eren’s glare turned on Armin. “Stay out of it,” he snapped. 

Levi stepped in, cutting the brewing argument short. “Enough. We don’t have time for this right now. If we’re going after Galliard, we need to move. Let’s go.”

The group quickly fell into formation, tension crackling in the air as they prepared to head to the clearing. Eren’s resolve was unshakable, but the weight of Aurora’s omission lingered heavily on his heart.

The forest surrounding the meeting spot of Historia and Porco was dense, the thick canopy above casting long shadows over the ground. The scouts moved swiftly and silently, their ODM gear occasionally clicking softly as they maneuvered between the trees. Eren led the group, his jaw tight and his mind racing.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Aurora. The betrayal he felt gnawed at him like a persistent wound. How could she keep something so critical from him? How could she lie to him, night after night, for three whole months? The trust they had built felt fractured, and it was a pain he didn’t know how to process. Yet, underneath his anger was a pang of guilt. He hated the way he had spoken to her, seeing the hurt in her eyes as he sent her away.

Mikasa, ever attuned to Eren’s emotions, broke the tense silence. “Eren,” she said softly, gliding up beside him. “I know you’re angry, but I don’t think Aurora was trying to hurt you. You know that, right?”

Eren’s eyes remained fixed ahead, his tone clipped. “That doesn’t make it okay, Mikasa. She lied to me. She lied for months.”

“She was wrong,” Mikasa acknowledged, her voice calm and measured. “But think about why she did it. Aurora’s not like us. She hasn’t been through what we have. She’s soft-hearted and kind. She probably thought she was protecting Historia.”

Eren let out a sharp exhale through his nose, his brow furrowed. “And what about protecting everyone else? What about protecting me? If Porco had decided to go on a rampage, who knows what could’ve happened?”

Levi, overhearing their conversation from a short distance, interjected with his usual bluntness. “Exactly. There’s no excuse for what she did. If Galliard had turned on her, this compound could’ve been a bloodbath. And if Historia had been killed, we’d be in even deeper shit than we already are.”

Eren clenched his fists, his knuckles white. “I know,” he ground out. “I know that, Captain. But—” He hesitated, his voice softening slightly. “Aurora’s my wife. I thought I could trust her with everything.”

Mikasa placed a hand on Eren’s arm, her touch gentle. “You can. But trust goes both ways. She’s human, Eren. She made a mistake. She didn’t do it out of malice.”

Levi scoffed, his tone dry. “Mistake or not, it’s a mistake that could’ve cost lives. She got lucky, that’s all.”

Eren’s jaw tightened further, his emotions a storm within him. He wanted to forgive Aurora, but the weight of her omission felt heavy. He couldn’t shake the image of her averting her gaze when he looked at her, the guilt written all over her face. It was a betrayal he hadn’t expected, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

As they neared the clearing, the group slowed, their movements cautious. The faint sound of voices reached their ears, confirming that Porco and Historia were indeed at the meeting spot. Eren’s heart pounded in his chest, his anger momentarily giving way to the cold focus of the mission.

“Spread out,” Levi ordered in a hushed tone, his sharp eyes scanning the area. “We’ll surround them. No one makes a move until I give the signal.”

The scouts nodded in unison, their expressions grim as they moved into position. Eren stayed close to Levi, his mind still reeling but his focus locked on the task at hand. Whatever Porco’s intentions were, they would find out soon enough.

The forest clearing fell silent except for the faint rustling of leaves, a deceptive calm before the storm that was about to break. The scouts had their eyes trained on the two figures in the distance, moving closer until the sight before them nearly made their jaws drop.

Historia and Porco were locked in a deep, passionate kiss, completely oblivious to their surroundings. The tension in the air snapped like a rubber band when the couple realized they were no longer alone. Both jumped back in surprise, their expressions a mix of shock and guilt as they turned to face the scouts.

“Shit!” Porco cussed, immediately moving to bite his hand, his eyes blazing with defiance.

Eren didn’t hesitate. His hand was already cut, blood dripping from his palm as the crackling sparks of his transformation began to ignite. He stepped back, his gaze locked on Porco, fury radiating from every inch of his being.

The clearing lit up with the telltale sparks of two impending titan transformations, but before either could act, Historia ran between them, throwing her arms out wide. “Stop!” she cried, her voice desperate and trembling.

Eren’s glare shifted to Historia, his rage barely contained. “What the hell is this?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through steel. “You’ve been lying to me and everyone else for months… for this? So you could sneak off and kiss the enemy?”

“Eren—” Historia began, but he wasn’t finished.

“Have you been compromised?” he asked harshly, his words laced with disappointment and suspicion. “Are you working for Marley now?”

“No!” Historia snapped back, her voice shaking but firm. “I haven’t been compromised.”

Porco’s jaw tightened, and he took a step forward. “Don’t talk to her like that, Jaeger—”

Before Porco could get any closer, Levi and Mikasa moved like shadows, blades drawn in an instant. Mikasa’s glare was as sharp as her steel, and Levi was a blur of deadly precision.

Without hesitation, Levi incapacitated Porco, his blades severing all four of Porco’s limbs faster than anyone could react. Porco hit the ground with a grunt of pain, his body writhing as he began to heal, his defiance undimmed.

“What the hell is your game, Jaw Titan?” Floch spat, stepping forward with his rifle trained on Porco. His expression was livid. “Why are you here? Manipulating the queen? What were you planning to do, huh?”

“He’s not manipulating me!” Historia interjected, stepping protectively in front of Porco, her voice trembling with emotion. “We’ve been trying to come up with an alternative to the Rumbling.”

Levi scoffed at that, his face a mask of disbelief. “An alternative?” he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Looked to me like you were just sucking face in the woods. What’s your brilliant plan, then? What have you come up with in three months of sneaking around?”

The silence that followed was damning. Historia looked away, her face flushing with shame, while Porco glared at Levi, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“You’ve got nothing,” Levi said coldly, his voice a razor-sharp rebuke. “Three months of sneaking around, risking everything, and you’ve got nothing to show for it.”

Levi turned to Mikasa. “Help me chain him up,” he ordered. “We’re taking him back for questioning.”

Mikasa nodded without hesitation, her expression grim as she moved to bind Porco tightly with chains. Levi leaned down, his blade hovering near Porco’s neck. “Don’t even think about transforming once you heal,” he warned, his voice low and menacing. “I’ll just cut off your limbs again. And again. As many times as it takes.”

Porco glared up at him but said nothing, the defiance still burning in his eyes.

Floch rounded on Historia, his anger palpable. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped. “You could’ve gotten us all killed! You’re the queen, and you compromised yourself for some stupid little romance?”

Historia flinched at his words but didn’t respond, her head bowed in shame.

Eren, meanwhile, was glaring at her with an intensity that could have burned the entire forest down. “Why?” he demanded, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “Why did you make Aurora keep this secret? Do you know what that’s done to her?”

At the mention of Aurora, Historia’s eyes filled with guilt. She knew what she had asked of her friend was unfair, and it had clearly taken a toll on her. “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to hurt her… or you.”

Eren’s jaw clenched, his anger warring with his lingering disappointment. “You didn’t just hurt her,” he said. “You hurt all of us. And you jeopardized everything we’ve been fighting for.”

Levi yanked Porco to his feet, the chains digging into the shifter’s skin as he stumbled. “Save the apologies,” Levi said flatly. “You’ll have plenty of time to explain yourself back at the compound.”

The group turned to leave, the atmosphere heavy with tension and unspoken words. As they marched back toward the Jaegerist compound, Eren couldn’t help but glance at Historia and Porco one last time, his mind still reeling from everything that had just unfolded.

Levi was dragging Porco along the dirt path like a sack of potatos, the chains rattling loudly as the Jaw Titan’s body scraped across the ground. Porco glared but remained silent, the humiliation of his situation adding fuel to his anger.

Floch followed close behind, his face twisted in barely contained rage. Historia walked a few paces ahead of him, her shoulders hunched and her face pale. Floch didn’t stop talking the entire way.

“How could you do something so stupid, Historia?” Floch snapped, his tone harsh and cutting. “You’re not just the queen—you’re supposed to be someone we can trust! Someone who stands above all of this nonsense, who puts Paradis first! And yet, you’re sneaking around with him?” He gestured angrily toward Porco.

Historia flinched at his words, guilt written all over her face. “I know I made a mistake,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I just thought…”

“You thought?” Floch interrupted. “You thought what? That you could trust a Marleyan shifter? That sneaking off with the enemy wouldn’t have consequences? Do you have any idea how badly this could’ve gone? If he’d decided to betray you, we’d all be dead right now!”

Eren, walking near the front of the group, was silent but visibly simmering with anger. His fists were clenched, and his jaw was tight as he shot occasional glances at Historia and Porco. His suspicions had been building ever since they discovered Porco had been sent to assassinate Historia but instead let her go. Seeing it all confirmed, and realizing how much Aurora had kept from him, was almost too much to bear.

Behind Eren, Mikasa, Hange, and the rest of the scouts exchanged uneasy glances. None of them could believe the sheer absurdity of what they had just witnessed. Jean muttered under his breath, “This feels like a fever dream.”

Connie, still in disbelief, shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s real. What the hell was she thinking?”

Sasha sighed, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I don’t think she was.”

When they finally reached the compound, Levi didn’t waste a moment. He dragged Porco straight to the basement, Mikasa trailing behind him. Porco glared at both of them but knew better than to try to resist. Levi was a force of nature, and Mikasa’s unwavering gaze was more than enough to keep him in line.

“Don’t even think about transforming,” Levi growled as he shoved Porco into a chair and began securing him with reinforced chains. “I’ll make sure you regret it if you try.”

Mikasa knelt beside Levi to help secure the chains, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “What now, Captain?”

Levi’s expression was grim. “Now we interrogate him. If he knows something we can use, we’re going to get it out of him.”

While Levi and Mikasa dealt with Porco, Eren turned to Floch. “Keep an eye on Historia,” he ordered coldly. “She’s compromised as far as I’m concerned. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

Floch saluted stiffly, his expression serious. “You can count on me.”

Historia, standing nearby, bristled at the implication but said nothing. Deep down, she knew she deserved this. If only she had been honest from the start, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

Eren gave her one last glance before turning on his heel and walking away. Mikasa called after him, “Eren, what are you going to do?”

Eren didn’t turn around as he replied, his voice low and steady. “I need to talk to Aurora.”

Mikasa’s brow furrowed as she watched him leave, her concern evident. Hange, standing beside her, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Give him space,” Hange said softly. “He’ll figure it out.”

As Eren strode toward his quarters, his mind was racing. The hurt and betrayal he felt from Aurora’s secrecy twisted in his chest like a knife. But more than that, he was determined to get to the bottom of everything and understand why she had kept this from him. He didn’t just need answers—he needed to hear it from her.

…

Aurora paced back and forth in her and Eren’s quarters, the room feeling smaller with every step she took. Her hands wrung together anxiously, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress as if the motion could somehow ease the turmoil in her heart. Every few steps, her hand instinctively went to her baby bump, now rounding enough to be visible beneath the folds of her clothing.

Her breaths came uneven, her chest tight as the memory of Eren’s voice played on a loop in her mind. He had never spoken to her like that before—never with such a cold edge, never with disappointment laced so thickly in his tone. It cut deeper than she thought possible, leaving her feeling hollow and aching in ways she couldn’t describe.

Aurora bit her bottom lip to stop its trembling, but her thoughts refused to quiet. How could I have been so foolish? she asked herself, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She had wanted so badly to help Historia, her friend—the first true female friend she’d ever had. The bond she shared with Historia had been a lifeline, a connection she had never experienced before. As someone who had been a slave for most of her life, Aurora had longed to be someone Historia could trust, someone she could count on.

But now, standing in the dim light of the room she shared with Eren, Aurora realized how wrong she had been. She could see it clearly now: the secret she had kept was dangerous, reckless even. It wasn’t just her own safety or Historia’s at stake. It was everyone’s—Eren’s, the scouts’, the Jaegerists’, and the entire island of Paradis.

Her pacing slowed as the weight of that truth settled heavily on her shoulders. What if Porco had been lying to Historia? What if he had harmed her? What if he had used the secret meetings as a cover to gather intelligence and mount an attack? And worst of all, what if I could have prevented it all?

Aurora stopped in her tracks, placing both hands on her baby bump as her knees felt weak. Her child. Our child. She thought of what might have happened if Porco’s presence had led to something catastrophic. She had put everyone at risk—not just Historia, but her baby, Eren, and all the people she cared about.

Her stomach twisted painfully, and her breath hitched as guilt consumed her. Eren and Levi had been right. It wasn’t about keeping a friend’s secret or showing loyalty to Historia—it was about responsibility. If anything had happened… if anyone had been hurt… she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself.

Aurora lowered herself carefully onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as they rested on her lap. The room was eerily quiet now, save for the faint rustling of the curtains in the breeze. Her head dipped low, and she stared down at her hands, the image of Eren’s hurt expression flashing in her mind again.

Her voice broke softly in the empty room. “I’m sorry…” she whispered to no one, a tear slipping down her cheek. Her hands moved to her belly, cradling it as if seeking comfort. “I just wanted to be a good friend.”

But now she understood the cost of her choices. Keeping this secret had fractured the trust between her and Eren—the one person who had always been by her side, who had never kept anything from her. And now, she wasn’t even sure if she could fix it.

Aurora blinked back more tears, her resolve hardening slightly. I’ll make this right. I have to. But even as she thought it, doubt lingered. Would Eren forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself?

The faint hum of activity from outside the room only served to emphasize the deafening silence within. Aurora stayed seated, her hands protectively over her baby bump, waiting and dreading what was to come.

But then, Aurora suddenly froze where she stood, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked onto a figure…

 The ghostly little girl was back—but this time, she wasn’t standing far away at the edge of the tree line, in her dreams or some shadowy corner of the rome. She was here, directly in front of her.

Aurora’s heart hammered against her chest as the little girl stood just three feet away, her form eerily solid and tangible. The tattered dress hung loosely on her pale frame, her vacant white eyes like hollow voids that bore straight into Aurora’s soul. The small wooden bucket in her tiny hand dripped an unseen liquid onto the floorboards, but Aurora’s attention was fixed on the girl’s unsettlingly blank expression. And just like before, the girl’s unblinking gaze was glued to Aurora’s belly.

Aurora’s lips parted as if to scream, but no sound came out at first. Her knees felt weak, her entire body trembling. Her hands instinctively flew to her baby bump as if to shield her unborn child from whatever malevolent force this was.

The girl tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering for a brief moment to Aurora’s face before returning to her belly. That subtle movement was enough to shatter Aurora’s paralysis, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Aurora bolted toward the door, sheer panic driving her movements, but as her trembling hands reached for the doorknob, it swung open violently from the other side.

Eren burst into the room, his emerald eyes wide with alarm. He had been walking briskly back to their quarters, his mind a whirlwind of emotions after the confrontation with Historia and Porco, when Aurora’s scream tore through the air like a knife. His body had moved on instinct, the sound of her fear slicing through his anger and disappointment.

“Aurora!” Eren called out, his voice urgent as he scanned the room. But all he saw was Aurora, standing just a few feet from the door, trembling and pale, her face streaked with tears. There was no one else. No intruder—just his terrified wife.

“Eren!” Aurora gasped, her voice breaking as she rushed to him, clutching his shirt desperately. Her hands shook as she pointed to the spot where the girl had been. “She was here! The ghost—she was here! I saw her! She was so close!”

Eren grabbed her by the shoulders, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of her panicked words. “Aurora, calm down,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “What ghost? There’s no one here.”

Aurora shook her head frantically, her grip on his shirt tightening. “No, you don’t understand! She was right there!” she cried, pointing to the empty space in front of the bed. “The same little girl I saw three months ago! The one I saw outside earlier today—Captain was there! He saw how freaked out I was!”

Eren’s jaw tightened. He remembered Aurora mentioning this “ghost” months ago, right after her terrifying dream. At the time, he had chalked it up to stress or the lingering effects of everything they had been through. But now, seeing her this distraught again, the unease crept back into his mind.

“Aurora…” Eren’s voice softened, his hands moving to cradle her face as she sobbed against his chest. “There’s no one here. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

“I’m not making this up!” Aurora pleaded, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “She’s real, Eren! I’ve seen her twice today! She keeps staring at me—at my stomach! Please, you have to believe me!”

Eren frowned, his mind racing. He didn’t see anything in the room now, but he couldn’t deny how genuinely terrified Aurora was. He guided her to the bed and gently sat her down, his hands still on her shoulders as he knelt in front of her.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning. What did you see?”

Aurora’s breaths were shaky as she tried to calm herself. She wiped at her tears but kept glancing nervously toward the spot where the girl had been. “It started three months ago,” she began, her voice trembling. “I told you before—I saw her after that nightmare. She was in the corner of our room. I thought it was just my imagination, but now…” Her hand moved protectively over her belly again. “I saw her earlier today, outside near the tree line. She was staring at me, just like now. And this time… she was so close, Eren. She looked real.”

Eren studied her face carefully. “You said Captain was with you earlier when you saw her?” he asked, his tone serious. “What did he say?”

Aurora nodded quickly. “He didn’t see her, but he saw how scared I was. I told him about the girl, and he thought I was hallucinating.” Her voice cracked. “But I’m not crazy, Eren. I know what I saw.”

Eren’s green eyes darkened as he considered her words. “And this girl,” he said slowly. “She keeps looking at your stomach?”

Aurora nodded again, a chill running down her spine. “Always. She doesn’t say anything—she just stares.”

Eren’s gaze flickered to her belly, and his jaw clenched. He didn’t know what to make of this. His first instinct was to protect Aurora and their baby, no matter what, but this was beyond anything he could fight or destroy.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice calm but resolute. “I believe you. I don’t know what this is, but I’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby. I swear.”

Aurora let out a shaky breath, her tears flowing freely again as she leaned into Eren’s embrace. For now, his arms around her were the only thing keeping her grounded.

Eren held Aurora close, his arms wrapped protectively around her trembling form as her sobs slowly began to subside. His heart was a storm of emotions—anger, hurt, disappointment—but above all, there was love. His love for Aurora always outweighed everything else, even his fury at her betrayal of his trust. Right now, she was in distress, and no matter what had happened, she was his wife. She was the mother of his child. She was his heart.

After a few moments of silence, Aurora pulled back slightly, her hands clutching his shirt as she looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. Her voice was trembling, heavy with guilt and regret. “Eren… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her words catching in her throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I just… I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to be a good friend to Historia, but I see now that I was wrong.”

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and she shook her head as if trying to shake away her own shame. “I thought I was helping her, protecting her secret… but I didn’t think about what keeping that secret meant. About how dangerous it was—for her, for you, for everyone.” Her voice cracked, and she gripped his shirt tighter. “Please, Eren… don’t hate me.”

Her last words pierced through Eren like a dagger. His chest tightened as he stared down at her, her tear-filled eyes pleading with him. He knew Aurora’s past. He knew the years she spent as a slave had skewed her understanding of trust and loyalty, that she had learned to put others before herself no matter the cost. In her mind, she thought she was doing the right thing by keeping Historia’s secret—even if it meant lying to him.

“Aurora…” Eren’s voice was quiet, but firm, as he gently cupped her face in his hands. “I could never hate you. Never.” He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away her tears as she let out a shaky breath. “But I am disappointed.”

Aurora flinched at his words, her lip trembling, but Eren quickly continued. “I’m not disappointed because you wanted to help Historia. I’m disappointed because you didn’t come to me. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, even when you knew how serious it was. We’re supposed to be a team, Aurora. You and me. Always.”

Aurora’s tears started again, and she buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I know… I know I messed up. I should have told you. I just thought… I thought it wasn’t my secret to tell, and I didn’t want to betray Historia’s trust.”

Eren sighed, his hands moving to stroke her hair as he tried to calm her. “I get it. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me. You thought you were doing the right thing, but this isn’t just about being a good friend, Aurora. This was about the safety of everyone on this island—of you, of our baby.” His voice softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I don’t care how bad you think something is. You can tell me. We’ll deal with it together. That’s what being a team means.”

Aurora nodded against him, her tears slowing as she clung to him like a lifeline. “I’ll never keep anything from you again, Eren. I promise.”

Eren tilted her chin up, meeting her watery gaze. His expression softened as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “But I need you to remember that we’re in this together. You don’t have to carry anything alone anymore, okay?”

Aurora nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Eren kissed her softly, a lingering press of his lips that was filled with forgiveness and reassurance. When they pulled back, he placed a hand gently over her growing belly. “We’re going to get through this,” he said. “All three of us.”

Aurora’s lips trembled into a small, relieved smile as she placed her hand over his. Despite the guilt still lingering in her chest, she knew she had to be better—not just for Eren, but for herself and their unborn child.

~

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[thatlovelywitch]

𝙰𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝚄 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙿𝙴 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 2

✨Falco Grice's cheeks have never seen a day of rest since he joined the cast. They are everyone's personal squishie or stress ball and they're always red when he goes home

✨ Levi has another signature other than the iconic cut: kohl. No matter the fit, his eyes are kohled on the red carpet

✨ Levi and Hange did a hit psychological horror movie together as the main leads. Theatre was shook, Tiktok was shook, Theatre was shook and people watched it for.....the amazing plot (the plot was Hange in a lacy black bar and low rise jeans covered in blood and Levi in the shower)

✨ Sasha has taken singing/music lessons since she was a kid, so she has a beautiful voice and can play the electric guitar, acoustic guitar, piano and keyboard. She has a music career aside from acting, and her songs tend to go viral Tiktok for cute trends. Her music has Clairo or Mazzy Star vibes, but she also likes it a bit risque so expect some softer R&B Kehlani type beats too. She tends to forget a lot of her fans are kids though LOL apology statements have been released (left a lip stick mark on an adult male fan's shirt and humped the floor while there were kids in the audience chile)

✨ Armin is THE SWEETEST EVER to kid fans like kid fans are his favorite and it shows. He'll always doodle a heart or sumn when he signs an autograph and you bet he'll go all soft complimenting the kid's mini plushie of him or their little Survey Corps cape

"Aww look at your cape yknow little buddy I had one too but it's not as cool as yours"

✨ Historia and Ymir. NOBODY has deciphered to this day if they're besties or dating it's that confusing and they don't make it any easier to guess.

✨ Annie and Mikasa call each other "wifey" and people try and start like imaginary beef between them like 13 year olds with too much time lol and all the while they're gossiping at award shows and feeding each other pudding or having sleepovers

✨ Zeke is a swiftie and he was the most EMBARRASSING CELEB MEMBER IN THE CROWD 😭 my brotha was twerking during more sensual or hardcore songs and he was getting drunk back there

✨ Erwin is NEVER dodging Captain America allegations he's tried to deny the rumors of him replacing Chris Evans since 2013 to no avail

✨ Erwin is a girl dad who keeps his relationship with his wife very private but sometimes he shares pictures of his life as a married man. The fandom will never get over him in a pink wig

✨ Pieck is a pretty privilege Tiktok lipsync star and we love that for her

✨ Jean and Connie did the Buzzfeed thirst tweets video tgt

✨ "Dude listen I've been goin to the bathroom with him for a decade now and it's more of a pony than a horse"

"Istg if yo bald head don't-"

✨ Eren Yeager reposts bad mafia x y/n Tiktok POV's of him

✨ Eren calls his fans pookie

[happybird16]

drabble that suddenly had to come out of me no matter what

Aot finale spoilers, talks of scars and wounds, self-doubt

“Do they ever hurt?” you ask softly, meeting his soft silvery eye with yours.

Levi shrugs unevenly in response, replying vaguely, “Sometimes I get phantom pains. Like they’re still there.”

Gently clasping his hand between yours, you bring his fingers to your lips, tenderly kissing all the little calluses and even the smooth, flawless skin at the tip of each of his fingers. You appreciate every little white knick of a healed scar, savoring the unique texture and history they hold. His nails are perfectly trimmed, and the long digits are almost bony, with knuckles jutting out from his skin and veins visible in trailing blue lines along his palm, resembling twisting rivers.

One by one, you kiss each and every finger until you reach the uneven stubs where his index and pointer fingers used to be. The area is still flushed a dark, upsetting red that makes your chest ache. Despite the passing years, the skin remains rough and sore-looking. Carefully, you lean forward, eyes locked to his. You hear his breath hitch as you oh-so-carefully press the softest of kisses to the stub of his index finger.

“D-don’t,” he breathes, shifting slightly in his seat in embarrassment. Something lingers in the soft grey-blue of his eye, something like embarrassment and shame. “They’re ugly.”

“They’re not,” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his shorn digit. “You’re beautiful, remember? No matter what.”

Levi takes a long, shuddered breath, his shoulders heaving with the strength of his sigh. It’s almost like he deflates a bit, the metal of his wheelchair creaking loudly as his feet shift. His face twists, the large now-mostly-white scar standing out against the pale skin of his cheek. His deadened eye can still move, instinctively tilting up to match the other as his eyes meet yours. “’m not,” he mutters quietly, hissing in pain as he shifts his injured knee. “I- I’m so weak now,” he confesses, his voice laced with frustration and pain.

It’s something he’s complained about quite a few times since the end of the final battle. Not only did he sustain injuries, but the end of Ymir’s curse had also extinguished the Ackerman strength flowing through his veins. He has mentioned feeling empty and hollow, almost fragile in comparison. His slower healing is evident from the still reddened skin of his mangled fingers.

Rising up from your knees, you press a quick kiss to the scar along his cheek. “We’re free now,” you assure him earnestly. “It’s a whole new world. We’re not soldiers anymore, and you don’t have to bear the burden of being the strongest. You have already proven your worth countless times.”

As you speak, your fingertips gently brush back the length of his bangs, exposing his forehead. With utmost care, you place another soft kiss right between his eyebrows, dissolving the tension held there. Then another. And another. Each kiss conveys a message of love and acceptance, a reminder that his worth extends far beyond physical strength.

Levi’s breath hitches again, this time from a mixture of relief and vulnerability. The sound is a bit wet, and there’s a telling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. He struggles to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing several times as his shoulders stiffen once again. His eyes, one vibrant and the other dulled by past wounds, seek yours, their depths reflecting the emotions he struggles to express.

“‘m not,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of pain and self-doubt. The fingers of his free hand instinctively reach for his injured knee, a reflex born from habit and discomfort. His voice sounds so small and hollow, “I- I’m broken.”

“No,” the word comes out sharper and louder than you intended, startling the both of you. “No. No you aren’t.” Your hand gently caresses his, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance. “Strength doesn’t define you,” you emphasize, your voice filled with conviction. “And your injuries don't either. I know you feel different now.. powerless.. but you possess a strength that transcends physical abilities. It’s in your resilience, your compassion, and the love you carry within you. That strength will always shine through, no matter what.”

A long, shuddered breath escapes Levi’s lips as he absorbs your words. His shoulders, burdened by the weight of his perceived weakness, begin to ease. The metal of his wheelchair creaks as his feet shift unsteadily. He swallows heavily, eyes falling from yours to stare at the fabric of the dark slacks covering his thigh.

Pinching his chin between your fingers, you urge his gaze to meet yours yet again. “We’re building a new life together,” you continue, a hint of playfulness entering your voice. “We’re not soldiers anymore. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Instead, let’s focus on chasing out those rude customers from our little tea shop. And if you ever say anything self-deprecating again, well, I’ll be there to shower you with kisses until you realize just how incredible you are.”

Levi’s lips curve into a small, vulnerable smile, the barriers of self-doubt slowly crumbling away. The moisture in his eyes finally spills over, tracing glistening paths down his cheeks. “You would,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and amusement.

[scionshtola]

where the hurt nests

pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul word count: 3.4k | rated: Mature | read on ao3 summary: After recovering from the events of Ultima Thule, Corisande retreats to their private island getaway. When Y'shtola arrives for a visit, she can't shake the feeling that Corisande's pleasant moods are an act-a feeling only perpetuated by their continuing reluctance to tell her what exactly takes place in the nightmares that have haunted them for moons. notes: part 1 of 3. 6.0 spoilers, set between 6.0 and 6.1. [divider credit]

Corisande watched the horizon.

They had a clear view from their vantage point—a grassy cliff’s edge that overlooked the sea. The sun hung high and bright in the sky, its light glistening off the deep blue that stretched endlessly before them. Tiny islands dotted the view, lone palm trees swaying in the breeze, but there was still no sign of the ferry they’d awaited all morning.

Far below where their legs hung over the edge, water frothed against the base of the cliff. They pulled their legs in, crossing them over each other, and reached for the grimoire they’d left lying open on the grass beside them. Their hand, quill between their fingers, hovered over the page as they glanced at the notes written in the margins, seeking reassurance in their hastily scrawled notes. But there was little to be found in this grimoire—it was only a year or two old, despite its worn condition, and Corisande had not needed help with this particular spell in over a decade. She pursed her lips, and scrawled the spell that would summon Carbuncle across its pages.

Nothing happened.

An aurloch bellow rang in her ears, startling her with its proximity. Somehow it had made its way into the clearing she occupied without her realizing, grazing not far from where she was sitting. The animals on the island did not always stray near enough to be so well heard when she trained, the echoing gunshots enough to drive them to quieter pastures. But on days she sought to practice magic, they had nothing to fear from her. 

Corisande took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and closed her eyes. She imagined her aether traveling through her as a stream flowing downhill, gathering at the grimoire in her lap, ready and waiting to be channeled. She felt it stir, ever so faintly inside her, and quickly opened her eyes to scrawl the spell once more.

But it was already too late. Her quill had hardly touched the page before the feeling faded, slipping from her grasp yet again. 

They swallowed past the lump in their throat. The times they brushed against magic again, the moments they felt the slightest stirring of their aether, barely a shadow of what it should be—what it had always been—were few and far between. Hope surged unwillingly in their chest each time, though nothing ever came of it. Even the simplest of spells were beyond their grasp now. 

And yet, it was no worse than the rest of the time. No worse than when they reached for their magic and met nothing at all. When there was no hope, only the stomach-dropping feeling of taking a step and meeting air where they expected solid ground. When there was only the hollowness that came with losing a part of themself they had not known could be taken. Only the unsettling feeling that this body they were in was not their own. 

She readied her quill once more, but now that her mind had brushed against the thought, it was not yet ready to let go. Panic clawed at her from within her constricted chest, bile rising to the back of her throat. Her skin crawled, and her breaths came too short and too fast, just as they had the day she’d first tried to channel her aether and come up short. The day that she had picked her way through the wreckage of a Garlean city in a stranger’s body. The day she had dragged that same body, broken and freezing, with its own hands across the frozen tundra, malms and malms of snow and ice between her and her true body. Between her and her friends. Between her and Y’shtola. 

When Corisande closed her eyes, she saw her own face against the back of her eyelids, mouth twisted into a horrible smirk.

She forced her eyes open and stared at her hands, clutching tightly at the edges of her grimoire. There was the years old burn scar, a cuff of mottled skin around her right wrist and forearm, stretching to the back of her hand. Just below her left elbow, a scar curved along her arm where a sword had cut her a few years back. She pushed her grimoire to the side and traced her finger along the long, raised scar that cut down the length of her thigh, a parting gift from a sin eater when she had stood between it and its prey. 

There were no marks from the injuries that other body had sustained. No jagged lines down their calf from the wound that had made it so difficult to walk, that had left streaks of red in the snow as they crawled back toward Camp Broken Glass. No silvered scars criss-crossing their fingers and forearms, cut and broken from pulling their body along. Nothing that marked this body as anyone’s other than their own.

Slowly, they began to calm. Their breathing deepened, releasing the pressure in their chest. They swallowed, washing away the bitter taste that lingered in their mouth, and closed their grimoire. They had just pushed themself too far today, was all. They would be fine after a meal and some rest. They would be fine when Y’shtola’s ferry finally arrived.

She climbed to her feet and cast another long look at the horizon, her heart skipping as the ferry came into view. Judging by the distance, Y’shtola would arrive within the hour—no small wait after keeping her eye on the sea all morning. 

Corisande stood there a moment longer, watching the ferry creep closer, and then turned away from the horizon. They left the clearing behind them as they began their way back toward their cabin, toward the beach that lay just below the clearing where it stood, and toward Y’shtola. 

—

Y’shtola kept her gaze on the shoreline. 

Baldin, the ferryman that had seen her here from Moraby Bay, chattered away as he cut the oars through the calm, clear water that surrounded the island. He did not seem to mind that she paid him little attention, focused as she was on the blur of aether that was Corisande, waiting for her on the shore. 

More than a moon had passed since Corisande had departed for the islands at Tataru’s behest. Though Y’shtola had been loath to part so soon after their recovery from their injuries at Ultima Thule, it had been plain to see they were in desperate need of time alone. Particularly, in need of time out of doors—and after weeks cooped up in the infirmary in Old Sharlayan, she could hardly blame them for needing a change of scenery.

So she had left them to their solitude, remaining behind in Dravania to work on the book chronicling the wonders the Scions have experienced over the past few years. And though she had never been the most reliable of correspondents, she put forth an extra effort to answer each letter that Corisande wrote. The effort did not go unnoticed—Corisande remarked after Y’shtola’s third letter that Y’mhitra would be quite pleased to discover Y’shtola’s newfound appreciation for the quill.

But the truth of the matter was, despite Corisande’s ever present optimism in the words she wrote, Y’shtola remained concerned. In the weeks before Corisande’s departure, it had grown increasingly apparent that she was grappling with something she was not keen on sharing with Y’shtola. She had remained frustratingly silent regarding the nightmares that woke her nearly every night, nightmares in which she called desperately for Y’shtola with cries that made Y’shtola’s heart seize in her chest as she struggled to wake her. Even after her departure, when Y’shtola slept alone, Corisande’s cries echoed in her mind.

With that in mind, Y’shtola was keen to see them for herself, and observe what could not be conveyed in letters. And it seemed the closer Baldin brought the small boat to shore, the more impatient she grew. She was tempted to take up an oar herself, though she doubted her contribution would get them to the shore any sooner. 

She was not the only one eager for a reunion. The small boat had hardly brushed against the shore before Corisande was moving toward her, splashing through the tide to greet her. Y’shtola rose from her seat, ignoring the way the boat wobbled beneath her, and Corisande wasted no time wrapping their arms around her. Y’shtola melted into the embrace, calmed by the familiar floral scent of their hair, and pressed a soft kiss into the sun-warmed curve of their neck. 

Corisande held her tightly, a quiet you’re here whispered into her hair, and the words that had ushered Y’shtola here as quickly as she could pack rose in her mind. Visit soon, if you can.

Y’shtola pulled back just enough for Corisande to tip their head forward for a soft, chaste kiss, still conscious of Baldin in the boat beside her, busying himself with some rope at the bow to give them the illusion of privacy. She appreciated the gesture, but any further greetings could wait until they were alone. 

Corisande must have had similar thoughts once again, because she pulled away from Y’shtola, only to sweep her into her arms in a bridal carry. Y’shtola startled, then laughed as they carried her to a dry bit of sand, just out of reach of the tide. They returned to the boat and spoke briefly with Baldin, exchanging nods and handshakes, before grabbing Y’shtola’s bags and splashing quickly back to the beach.

They led her across the sand, warm from the day’s sun, to a dirt path at the bottom of a grassy hill. Y’shtola studied them from behind as they walked up the gentle incline. Corisande was quiet, as they so often were, but they seemed happy enough. Every so often, they glanced over their shoulder, a soft smile gracing their lips that breathed warmth into Y’shtola’s chest. It was good to see them smiling so again, especially after the weeks apart.

Even so, she could not quite let go of the feeling that something was amiss. Now that she could see them up close, there seemed to be a strain to Corisande’s aether. Nothing so wrong as it had been in those difficult times on the First, but still a strain she did not recall noticing before they had left for the island. 

Before she could think on the matter further, they crested the hill and came into a small clearing. A two story cabin sat off to one side, the stone path leading to it lined with flowers. She followed Corisande along the path until they reached the bottom of the staircase just inside the cabin. 

“Well,” they said, setting her bags down and turning to her with a smile. They spread their arms as if to encompass the cabin. “What do you think?”

The first floor of the cabin was a singular room, divided into corners by the staircase in the center.  The furniture was rather sparse—a rattan sofa with a blanket thrown over the back occupied one corner, and another held a small, square table, atop which sat one of Corisande’s pistols beside a teapot, and two wooden chairs. But from the scattering of books and potted plants in various stages of bloom throughout the room, it was clear that Corisande had made herself at home here. 

Having no walls, the cabin stood open to nature. From one side of the ceiling hung a long bench swing, looking over the clearing. A small kitchen sat outside the cabin, beneath its own roof to protect it from the elements, and beyond that was a small table beneath an umbrella. On the other side of the cabin was a small pool, and from here, beyond the foliage that hid the clearing, Y’shtola could see the ocean. Even with her limited sight, she knew the view to be beautiful. 

“It seems quite peaceful,” she said, turning to face them. “I can understand why you have spent so much time here. And why you seemed so happy in your letters. ‘Tis certainly a step up from Matoya’s cave.”

Corisande laughed, and reached for her hand, squeezing it in her own. She pulled Y’shtola close, and Y’shtola closed her arms around her waist. 

“You are happy here, yes?” Y’shtola asked, leaning back to look up at her. 

“I am happier now that you are here,”  Corisande answered, widening her stance to ease the burden on both their necks. “For all it lacks in comparison to this island, Matoya’s cave still held that which I do not wish to be without.”

Though Corisande had always been open with her feelings for Y’shtola, she still found as much delight as ever in the affectionate admissions. But as willing as Corisande always was to declare her affection, she was often equally as silent about her own pain, and though the words warmed Y’shtola, they were not quite an answer. Happier was an obvious redirection, neither a lie nor a particularly meaningful response, given how unhappy they had been before leaving the island. 

Y’shtola decided not to press. She would be here for some time, and there was no use in jumping to conclusions after so little observation. 

“And now that we are on dry, steady land…” Corisande said, trailing off to lean down and kiss Y’shtola. Their lips parted, their hands warmly pressing each other closer, nothing so chaste as the kiss they had shared on the beach.

When Corisande pulled away, she did not go far. “I was waiting for you to arrive before I made lunch. Are you hungry?”

Y’shtola smiled, and by way of answer, slipped her hand into their curls and tugged their mouth down to meet hers. The effect was ruined somewhat by the way she had to rise on her toes to meet them, but Corisande did not seem to mind, judging by the fervor with which they kissed her.

Their hands slid over her bare shoulders, across the black fabric of her dress, until they lifted her by the waist. Though she guessed it was coming, it did not stop the hitch in her breath at the ease with which they lifted her, nor did it cool the heat blooming within her.

“Perhaps a tour?” Corisande asked, sweet and teasing, though Y’shtola sensed a real question behind the jest. ‘Twas not so difficult to understand the reason. The last time they had seen each other, they had spent most of their nights tending to Corisande’s tempestuous sleep, rather than each other, and even that had been made difficult by Corisande’s silence.

But that particular conversation could wait. She ducked her head, pressing her lips to the side of Corisande’s neck, tasting the salt of the sea on her tongue. A soft, wanting sigh escaped Corisande, and she turned abruptly on her heel, carrying Y’shtola up the stairs. Y’shtola worked as she went, undoing the buckles of Corisande’s overalls, tugging at the knot that held their swimsuit top in place, hands tracing a familiar landscape she had so longed to return to these past few months. 

Corisande reached the top of the stairs and turned. They set Y’shtola gently on the bed, but there was an urgency to the kiss that followed—to the way they let their clothes fall to the ground as they knelt on the bed between Y’shtola’s knees, the way their hands slid beneath Y’shtola’s dress as they leaned over her. 

Y’shtola echoed that urgency in her own kisses, her hands on the back of their neck, pulling them closer until their familiar weight settled pleasantly on top of her. 

“I missed you,” Corisande said softly, lips whispering across Y’shtola’s jaw, and she hummed, turning her face to capture their lips. She hastened her touch, guiding her hands over their thighs, their hips, their waist, and hitching them closer. As much as she had missed this, the way they came so perfectly and easily together, she had missed them more than words could describe, and she intended to show it

She slipped her hand past the waist of their swimsuit bottoms, and captured their sigh with a kiss.

—

Y’shtola judged that the sun had gone down by the cool breeze that blew quietly through the open cabin. Kept safe from a chill by Corisande on top of her, their warm breathing even across her chest, she stroked their hair softly with one hand, her other arm wrapped securely around their shoulders.

She had lost track of just how long they had lain together, pleasantly drowsy in each others’ arms, until her stomach made a noise that made Corisande’s ear twitch, though Y’shtola hardly even registered it.

“I didn’t get to make you lunch,” Corisande said, sounding more awake than Y’shtola had expected. She shifted in Y’shtola’s arms, looking up at her.

“I was rather preoccupied with other matters,” Y’shtola said, tilting her head down to kiss their forehead. “But if you are so keen to cook for me, I would not say no to dinner.”

Corisande grinned, pushing herself up onto her elbows and leaning over Y’shtola. “You know I never mind cooking for you,” she said, leaning in for a kiss.

Y’shtola watched her dress, missing the warm weight of her as the cool air blew across her skin, chilling the thin sheen of sweat their bodies had created. Even though her sight was limited to aether, she could still appreciate Corisande’s figure—the narrow shoulders, the slight curves of her chest, the more ample curve of her rear, the ilms and ilms of leg. 

When Corisande caught her looking, she only smiled, prompting a sweet laugh from their lips. They sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss her, smiling into it. When they started to stand, Y’shtola touched their chin lightly with her thumb, and they paused.

“You are truly doing well, then?” Y’shtola asked.

She may have imagined the way time stretched then, before Corisande answered. “You need not worry about me, Shtola.”

“‘Twould be less worrisome were you not so evasive in your answers,” Y’shtola said, softening the frustration in her tone with a stroke of her thumb across their cheek.

Corisande hovered over her, and the silence built between them like a dam. Y’shtola sighed, disappointed at the way they closed up as quickly as they had unfurled beneath her touch. 

When they spoke again, it was through a veneer of cheer. “I have been doing just fine here, my love. As I said, you need not worry about me.”

With a pang in her chest at the sound of their voice, Y’shtola softened, as she always did for them. She pulled them down for a quick, agreeable kiss, and released them. They paused at the top of the stairs, looking over at her, and she lifted her head, thinking they might speak. But in the end, they only gave her a quiet smile before descending. 

She let her head fall into the pillows with a sigh. There had never been much use in prodding Corisande when they did not wish to share, but they so rarely kept secrets from her that she could not help but be concerned. Several moons after the nightmares began in full force, the only information Y’shtola knew for certain was that Corisande did not want to discuss them when they woke. What could she do to quell this unease in her chest, when she had so little to go on? When her questions only prompted evasive answers, or worse, a complete end to the conversation?

The strain of their aether troubled Y’shtola equally as much as their reticence. Restoring one’s life force could be difficult, if they were not well-rested or well-fed. Had their nightmares been keeping them from sleep to the point of exhaustion? They did not seem to be lacking in energy, nor had their aether been affected while they stayed in Matoya’s cave, but she could not know for certain without any input from Corisande themself.

There was nothing for it, for now. Some of her questions would likely be answered soon enough, simply by being in such close quarters. As for the others, she would have to glean what information she could, and hope that Corisande’s reluctance was approaching its end.