#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors

part two. | masterlist

“I'm seeing someone.”

Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.

When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.

It’s a direct hit.

Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.

(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)

Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.

“You’re what?”

“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try. 

The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.

He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.

(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)

“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”

“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.

“Okay, but how do we know?”

“Hange—”

Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”

Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”

Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.

“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”

An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.

“Ha. Fair.”

If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.

“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”

Yeah. 

Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.

Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.

It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.

(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)

Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—

Moved on.

Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse. 

Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.

Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.

When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.

.

.

— —

.

.

    The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.

Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.

Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene. 

Hell, it was obscene.

Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.

Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.

“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”

“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”

“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t.” 

Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers. 

“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”

“Several years?”

Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”

“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”

Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.

“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”

“Tch.”

A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.

He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.

“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”

“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”

“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”

Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit. 

It was where they belonged, really.

“Fine, then lying waste with me.”

After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.

"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."

He made it a point to stop. Stare.

Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.

"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.

That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.

By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.

Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?

Levi Ackerman had a job.

A night turned into a month.

A month turned into six. 

Six to a year.

Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.

Yet nothing else changed.

Levi still kept to himself.

Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.

Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep. 

Repeat.

Routine.

Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.

Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:

Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.

(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)

After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs. 

“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”

“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.

“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”

“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”

Levi can’t help but scoff.

“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”

That fucking calendar.

The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.

All four of them did.

(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)

“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”

“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”

“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”

“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.

“Where they’re from.”

“If they have siblings.”

“Do they live near here?”

“If they’re allergic to cats.”

An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.

“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”

Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea. 

“...I like tennis.”

Hange’s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”

Enough.

Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”

“Why?” Erwin challenges.

“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”

“Ah, her.”

When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.

Well, fuck him.

Too much has already been said.

Hange whistles low. 

“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”

“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”

“We aren’t.”'

Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.

With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve. 

“I… met her a few days ago. It...”

Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.

This is going to bring on a headache. 

He really doesn’t need it on a work night.

“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”

Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Erwin grows still. Contemplative.

Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.

“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”

Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”

“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”

“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.

His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.

(Protective.)

The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him. 

“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”

“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”

The room grows silent.

Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.

Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.

The ethics of it all;

The logistics of what it could mean for the future;

The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.

Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.

Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated. 

Hell, it’s curious.

Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.

“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.

Stumbled is an understatement.

.

.

— —

.

.

    “So then — what does this mean?”

He doesn’t know.

God, he has no fucking clue.

Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.

You were meant to be a fluke thing.

A moment of weakness.

An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.

The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.

Imagining idealism.

He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.

Still—

That being said, he wanted this.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.

Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.

Money was tight. 

Bills were bills. 

But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.

Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street. 

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.

Maybe he existed to simply exist.

Then you called.

Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.

Easy.

Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.

Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.

Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.

You wanted to talk.

Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.

(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)

Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.

Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.

And Christ, you were beautiful. 

Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.

Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.

So he was honest.

Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.

That he was the first to break the rules.

That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.

You didn’t care.

So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:

Be selfish.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

Autopilot.

Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”

Bail.

Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.

He doesn’t.

He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand. 

The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.

If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—

He can’t. Won’t.

You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.

“—give me a call.”

Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.

Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.

To contemplate.

(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)

The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.

It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.

His pocket vibrates not once but twice.

(So not a text.)

Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.

He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

His heart falls out of his ass.

Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.

You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.

“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”

Shit.

Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.

“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

He liked it when you cursed. 

Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.

“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”

.

.

— —

.

.

    “You said that?”

Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.

Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.

That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.

Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.

“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”

“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”

“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”

Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”

“Six floors down, then?”

There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying. 

Levi immediately narrows his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”

He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.

He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.

He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.

He could do a lot of things, but—

“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.

Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.

“...no.”

A beat passes.

Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.

“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”

“And you believe her?”

He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.

Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.

(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)

“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”

He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair. 

“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”

Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name. 

“Levi—”

“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”

The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.

Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.

Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.

Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.

“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”

A part of him really wants to say no.

A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.

He fights.

Fails.

“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”

Hange perks up, all too smug.

“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”

The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.

His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high. 

Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.

Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.

He hasn’t wanted much.

He’s never wanted much, but—

Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.

“...something like that.”

.

Author's Note:

AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?

I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.

And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.

[hangesdarling]

Can I ask for hate sex with hange?

(Hope this fits within your rules!)

commitment — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. Commander Hange find it difficult to commit into a relationship with you. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, biting, leaving bite marks, vaginal fingering, oral sex (hange receiving), overstimulation, panty stuffing, scissoring, angst, alcoholism, teasing, dirty talk (lmk what else) WORD COUNT. 4.1k (i got carried away 😭) A/N. School may be killing me but at least I get to write this angsty smut for Hange (sorry for taking so long anon, and yesss, this fits with my rules 💕)

Your privilege from birth remained an indelible mark and only strengthened when your father rose to rank in the military police brigade. Those itchy elegant clothes at private parties, or of wearing a proper pin-up dress when you want to cross the road without a word of judgment became a pervasive familiarity.

Maybe even freedom contorted itself to your comfort and safety for you only saw Titans in those publications. Hange thought of you as an entitled woman untouched even by the dust from Shiganshina as expected from someone who lived in the inner walls from birth. 

But you love playing with fire. You love Hange's esoteric yet strangely fascinating eye bored through you across that expansive room. It was full of people in the usual fancy setting you were used to. Empty words were exchanged through them as if a common meeting could create another layer of peace to prevent such bonds from breaking. 

However, tonight was not so tasteless when you're exchanging wordless conversations and suggestive glances with the Commander of the Survey Corps. 

The party was not fascinating but the eventual meetings that followed were. For some time, your father almost believed you were interested in a position in the military from how you frequented the headquarters. Your surreptitious meetings with Hange came once a week, turning twice or thrice later on. Eventually, their vision of you as an entitled woman shattered under one kiss followed by sloppy lovemaking in their office. 

"So you weren't so stuck up after all," Hange mused, their lips stained with the gloss from your lips. 

"And you weren't so sophisticated, Commander." A teasing smirk rose on your lips, fingers circling the angry kiss marks trailing up from their chest to their neck. Your hips mounted to reposition yourself in their lap, earning an appreciative smile from them just for your boldness. "Taking me right here in the office? Really?" 

Your banters flowed like fluid robbed of viscosity, a free-flowing connection to the soul. Hange has this charming, relaxed smile, a glimpse of their youth smothered by the weight of responsibility on their shoulders. Your presence became a prying tool, each loving word uttered lifting the heaviness within them. 

You relished on those weekdays you had to pretend that you were not fucking the Commander. A sensational thrill shot through your body, even to the tips of your toes just from writing each lipstick-stained letter, each lewd word placed upon paper to be mailed directly at their office disguised as a formal letter. 

Lately, your meetings have thinned to twice or thrice a month, putting intense yearning upon waiting for a familiar letter in your mailbox. It wasn't frequent but Hange had a way with words, and it was enough to make you read their letter the way a devotee reads their bible. 

However, upon another chance of meeting after such intense longing, you found Hange in haste, bounding your conversation into half an hour based on how the clock on their wrist ticked. 

So you hugged them, you nestled your head on their chest like you always used to as if doing so would merit their stay. 

"Sweetheart, I really have no time for this," their tone sounded apologetic, as if in repentance for your yearning bounded by their time. "Say what you want to say, Y/N."

"Tell me, Hange. What are we?" It was soft yet so pointed that Hange stirred from your touch. They can't find a way to scoot around the topic with your tone of adamance. Their lips pursed into a thin line before sighing. 

"Y/N, we've talked about this." 

Your fists clenched at their olive uniform, your face remained buried on their chest. 

"But Hange... We've been seeing each other for such a long time now. And I..."

Hange knows you cannot finish your sentence, each word snatched from your mouth for fear of sounding pathetic. 

"Y/N, look, I wasn't carved out for such a commitment," they pulled away gently, lifting your chin to look at them and letting go eventually when you shook their hand off. "I care for you, Y/N. But we can't do this now." 

That's what you always say, you wanted to scream out. That this wasn't the right time, that it would be best to keep things this way not to hurt each other. You always do this as if there was always a better time than now.

Your hand clenched around their coat once more then let go all at once. Hange's watch ticked twice.

"I hate you," your lips moved in scorn, in an angry desperation to not burst into tears. It took all Hange's strength to not argue back, to resist your statement and pull you back in their arms so this parting wouldn't hurt as much. Their watch ticked again and like any other meetings, they didn't have time. 

Hange sighed, squeezing your hand and letting it go as they stepped back. "I'm sorry, Y/N. We'll talk about this when I get back."

Your eyes welled with tears as their footsteps grew fainter from where you stood frozen. You tried to walk away silently but the sound of their train leaving clutched you in an urge to scream. 

-

Maybe Hange was right that being in an official relationship wasn't any better.  I have to grow up, you told yourself. Hange has this mature view of things that smothers their imaginative side. Their decisions felt like the safest yet most terrible ones you couldn't wrap your heart around. You grew up knowing that things you want would materialize the moment you wished for them. It contrasts all the harsh experiences Hange had outside the walls all those years ago, not only fighting titans but the corrupt humans themselves. This isn't a fairy tale, Y/N, your mind spoke in Hange's voice. 

But you want to stop longing, to await for a love that does not dither, for a piece of commitment you could hold onto each time you wait for Hange to come back. Just the slightest verbal evidence that you're the person they come to as a lover. But your attempt to get their heart in your care failed once again. 

Maybe you were never their lover. You're just another one of those women they invited over for a fortnight of pleasure. You just happen to last long enough because they weren't tired of you just yet. You scoffed to yourself, pouring yourself another drink later that night day when Hange left. They should be getting on the ship as of this time based on your estimate. Another few weeks of not seeing each other, but this time parting with such bitter words. 

I hate you. 

Did you truly mean it? Maybe you hate their choice, but not them. Or perhaps it was irritating how much you cannot fully place hate on their name even if you tried.

You drank the bottle of wine to the last droplet, mind considering a visit to your father's headquarters early that morning. 

-

Not long ago, you earned a temporary job in the headquarters as an excuse to see Hange. It was rather tedious but you're not aversed about reading lengthy reports and sorting them when you could always meet the Commander afterwards. But with Hange's absence, the papers were getting more difficult to bear that you had to avert your eyes from the pile for at least an hour. 

However, you left the room later on, remembering you shouldn't have to bear with such things when you have a privilege placed on your name. You could always pay that kind soldier trying to help you out. But later that noon, he won't accept monetary payment, but rather a chance to take you out on a drink until night. 

Perhaps it wasn't such a bad offer since you needed a drink yourself. A splash of alcohol might hopefully erase Hange's face from your mind. You haven't even written a single letter since they left and planned to keep it that way. 

The bar where soldiers of low ranks weren't as sophisticated, and the cheap drinks tasted unique. Your first drink burned your throat but you were too thrilled by the new environment to even protest. You tried to imagine Hange in place of the guy next to you. Hange would have looked at you in amusement, maybe even tried to down a bottle to show you a glimpse of their previous life before they became Commander. 

But that daydream blurs and vanishes into a tasteless reality as you down a few drinks. This place only reminded you of Hange's absence, an environment far too cruel for you to bear. It was clear that you wanted to leave the bar and cut that night short. The man who brought you here has been a help in your tipsy state, and much to your distaste, he began a shaky confession of why he brought you here. 

His hands were cold when they met yours, you wanted to roll your eyes at how he was trying to meet your eyes. You're beautiful, you're friendly enough. I always see you frequent the headquarters. 

Shallow confessions, you thought to yourself, and yet it all sounds tempting especially now that the alcohol was kicking in. 

You tried to kiss him mid-sentence, tasting the cheap beer on both of your lips. His lips felt strange, unfamiliar, and almost cold from the air outside. You retracted almost immediately, the tempting whispers of the alcohol in your system diminished all at once. It was a terrible kiss and it will never feel good when your lips keep searching for Hange's sweet and loving ones. 

You're not one to toy with other people's feelings but the kiss stirred and hazed your mind back to soberness that you ran away into the frigid night. You tried to wash away the taste with another glass of wine when you got home but the feeling of betrayal lingered.

But then again, it wouldn't be a betrayal to Hange because you were never theirs. They've made it clear a few more times than enough. 

We can't do this now. There wasn't an ‘us’ to begin with. 

Later that midnight, you tried writing several letters addressed to Hange but none felt right. All ended up in a discarded pile beside your bed, your inked hands unwashed as the alcohol inched you closer to slumber. 

-

Returning to Paradis without you in sight made the morning all the more bitter for Hange. Not a letter from you, nor an answer for all the letters they sent while they were away. They remember the hatred laced with your words the last time you saw one another. 

Against all the bitterness nestled within them, they remained wishing that you never meant your words. 

Later that afternoon in the headquarters, they wanted to come to you but decided against it at the last minute. They need a few hours to themselves. Maybe for sleep or other things. However, Hange cannot sleep now that their mind is occupied not just by the pressing issues in the military, but also by you. 

They thought of your sweet, blushing face in their hands whenever they kiss you, or how you make a seat for yourself in their lap whenever you're in the mood to be playful, but above all that, they longed to feel you after such a tedious time away. Their mind was plagued with questions of where you were and what had happened while they were gone. Do you still resent them? 

However, their questions were beginning to be answered in such an unlikely manner when they overheard a conversation among soldiers drinking at work. The Commander wanted to burst in and admonish them for misbehavior when they heard your name being spoken along degrading words. A slut. A woman easily persuaded by an invitation to drink. Hange proceeded to listen, fists clenched as the soldier you kissed not even a week ago decided to warp his story of rejection to your disadvantage.

Hange glanced at these soldiers, remembering the names and faces they would subject to grueling military work later that day. They forgot their tiredness and went out of the headquarters to look for you.

-

Hange didn't want to believe that man's words. They placed their trust in you to that extent. However, their reasoning shattered when they heard it from your mouth. 

You resent them because seeing them makes your heart ache. You wished to hurt them the way they did when they broke your heart. 

 "I was never yours, Hange. You've made that clear several times so why bother to snoop around to what I'm up to?" you glared at them when they stood blocking the way out of your room. 

"Are you telling me these things because you're bored of me and wish to have a new plaything, or is this your petty attempt to make me mad?" Hange gave you a tired glare, arms crossed over their chest. They were too exhausted to deal with your temper at that moment and wished for a more civilized conversation. 

Your brows rose from their claim and said, "I'm not one to find playthings, and toy with them until I'm satisfied. Maybe you should look at yourself, Hange."

Your attempt to storm out of the room was interrupted when Hange caught your arm and brought you back to face them. "You think I'm toying with you?" Their tone only indicated that you managed to anger them with that statement. 

"What am I supposed to think when we only met several times just to fuck each other and yet you seem revolted by the idea of even calling me your lover?" you jabbed a finger on their chest, your tears more unbridled than that of your last meeting. "Was it easier to dedicate your life protecting a hopeless, godforsaken land than loving me?" 

Your claims were making Hange snap but they couldn't let themself lose control now. 

"You misunderstood me entirely," they muttered as if speaking any louder would prompt them to break. "And don't you dare call Paradis hopeless. You know nothing about it."

"You think so low of me, don't you? You think I'm too stupid to know what's happening here?" you argued, hastily wiping your tears so they wouldn't blur your vision. "It's obvious we don't understand each other. Maybe it's better if we stop all of this entirely."

Their grip on your arm tightened unconsciously. "You don't mean that," they scoffed. 

"Don't challenge me, Hange. You must be a fool if you think I can't replace you," you said coldly, earning a glare from them. Hange couldn't hold themself any longer, the frustration from work coupled with your behavior towards them irritates them further. 

They swiftly locked the door and pulled you towards them, arms circled tightly on your waist. Their face was centimeters away from you, their warm breath brushing against your lips, "This is not what I'm expecting when I come back here, Y/N. You're such a clever girl so you must know what I'm feeling right now."

Their hand went to the back of your head, lips touching yours as they whispered, "I'm so damn fed up and not just that..."

Hange dragged you back to your bed, forcing you to sit down. Their silent aggressiveness scared you when they slowly pressed their body against yours, their frame caging you firmly like one would do to a prey. Your legs dangled over the edge as their knees pressed on your sides. The bruising kisses they gave dug into your skin, almost like Hange was trying to tear the soft surface apart until you bled. 

"Hange, not here," you hissed, pushing on their shoulders. They groaned on your neck and gathered your wrists over your head.

"Don't act like this is the first time I fucked you here," they retorted, completing the cruel necklace of love bites surrounding your neck. Hange rolled up your skirt to your waist, their other hand pushing at the back of your thigh so you would lay open for them. 

"My father's at home, you asshole."

"I don't care," they replied almost immediately. "Let your father hear us. Let him know I'm already defiling you so he'd force me to marry you. After all, that's what you want, right?" 

"You twist my words," you argued. 

"I'm just learning from you," Hange muttered, their desperate lips now kissing on your chest. Hange could feel that your wrists were starting to relax on their grip. "Do you know how much irritates me when you think I don't love you?" 

"Maybe you should ask yourself why I think that way," you shot back. 

"If I'm so terrible in your mind then let me prove you otherwise," Hange told you like a firm promise, letting go of your hand to undo your clothes to the last button. Their hand kneaded on your waist, finding their way to settle on your breasts. 

You hated how much your body leaned into their warmth, of how you let yourself become so vulnerable and bare in their eyes. Your resentment felt so shallow when you fall apart every time their hands touched you.

Hange breathed onto your neck, their hand passionately locked around yours while the other glided over your folds. You gave their neck the same treatment from earlier as you left bruising kisses on their skin, making sure that their subordinates will see through the marks even with their uniform. 

Hange kept your moans muffled with their mouth, their usual loving whispers gone and replaced by a desperateness to have you, to make you come all over their hands once more. Your fingers gripped and dug into their uniform, the coil on your stomach tightening with each thrust. 

"Hange..." you whispered their name and repeated it like a fervent prayer as their lips never left your body. You clamped a hand over your mouth as your hips rocked against their fingers.

"Louder, sweetheart. You want people downstairs to hear you, right?" Hange smirked, their lips and thrusts both deepening as if in punishment for the moans you were trying to muffle. They tore your hand from your mouth and bit on your skin, earning a whimper from you.

You desperately closed your legs in between their hands but Hange only pulled them farther apart.

Come again for me, sweetheart, they would whisper, and you would collapse onto them over and over again the way rocks gently wear away against the crashing of waves.

Hange pulled their calloused fingers from your dripping cunt, groaning when they felt your teeth biting them again once more.

You wrapped a leg around them, shifting your body weight so you could straddle them. Hange felt your hands ripping at the zipper of their pants, the button securing the band disconnecting from the fabric.

 "Ease down, Y/N, damnit," they grunted as you strip off their button in haste. You bite on their lip as you kiss, letting them know you're in no mood to be gentle nor loving like you always used to. Your passion was coarse and carnal, grating through their flesh. Your hands found their underwear, slipping it off their legs without letting them say a thing.

You balled the fabric into a loose gag before stuffing it on their mouth. Your lips curled into a smirk before kissing their forehead, saying,  "You talk too much, Commander, it’s irritating. So you better keep that on until I'm done with you."

Hange groaned softly, patiently watching you settle in between their thighs. Your eyes bored onto theirs as the soft pad of your thumb circled their clit. Their hands found your hair, gripping onto them the moment your tongue glided along their slit. Hange whined at how torturously slow you used your tongue, getting them to the edge and pulling away when they needed it most.

Hange kept their mouth stuffed as you wished but proceeded to brutally use your mouth later on in accord with their liking.

"That's right, put your mouth to good use," they grunted, spitting out the gag later on, their inner thighs pressing on your head as their cum smeared your lips and chin. They delivered a wet, warm kiss on your lips, fingers resting on your chin as they said, "That's a lot better than arguing with me, don't you think?"

You groaned at that remark, yet your stamina was too depleted to protest when they're shifting you into another position. 

"I'm tired, Hange," you mumbled. 

"And I'm not, Y/N," they answered back, lifting your leg so they could settle in between. "I'll stop once you cease this bullshit with me, and handle your temper so we could talk."

"You wish," you rolled your eyes. 

Their hand circled around your throat as they inch closer to your face and spoke, "Then shut your mouth and take it."

Hange pushed your legs further, your soaked entrances meeting. Hange groaned as they felt the friction building up close to their pelvic region. They gave your throat a light squeeze as their hips moved against yours. You pulled onto their collar for a kiss, distracting both of you from how the bed creaks just by your movements escalating to roughness. 

Your intimacy was full of marks, of bites that drew blood. Your bodies moved in such a way where a stronger emotion could be felt other than desire. Perhaps it was longing, or an immense unresolved yearning of two hearts who could only find understanding through the flesh. 

Hange's lips trembled against yours as they came, their grip loosening so their hands could trail along your back. They placed a band of love bites that turned to purplish bruises, their tongue licking along the ones that managed to bleed. It took a while before your breathing stabilized enough.

Hange untangled their body from you and dressed up silently a few minutes later, mumbling about how it was getting too late, that it would be suspicious for them to stay. You're too tired to sulk as you shift your body to turn against them, finding comfort from the warm sheet encasing your body. Fine, just go, you wanted to mutter in defeat. 

However, Hange walked over to you, kneeling down so they could meet your eyes once more. They tucked the stray hair from your face as they spoke, "I'll talk to your father first thing in the morning."

You were alerted, brows creasing as your eyes tried to scan their intentions. "For what?" 

"Well," Hange sighed softly, playing on the loose strands on your face. "You have quite a traditional family so I'll formally talk to your father about us. I hope to merit a positive response."

"But I thought you don't want a committed relationship with me..."

"I know I told you that several times before," Hange traced a thumb over your cheek. "Truly it scares me because I know what I'm like. I can't give you all my attention, Y/N, and I don't want that to hurt you. But I've hurt you several times already because of my refusal. My fear is not worth breaking your heart over."

Their solemn gaze met yours, and you could feel another layer wearing away from them. Another vulnerability they're willing to hand over to you. You couldn't have guessed that they would bare their heart this way.

"Hange..."  There are things you wanted to say but couldn't find one where you could subdue your intense, profound appreciation. Your hand went to their cheek, gathering their warm skin onto your hand. 

"Y/N, you deserve more than I could give you. I can't promise to be everything you wished for. And perhaps it scares me terribly that you'll end up hating me for it," Hange continued, their gaze softening. "But I'll try, alright?" 

"Alright," you smiled, absentmindedly fixing their collar and tugging on it as a subtle plea. "Could you... stay for a bit longer?" 

Hange's responsibilities await like an undesirable visitor at their desk, waiting for them to get through their office door and pounce upon them. It thins their energy and will, a fuse burned into blackness within their heart. Staying with you would only create another opportunity for work to pile up higher, and yet, they couldn't find the heart to refuse. They felt like a charred, pitiful wick that once burned brightly. Your loving embrace, and intoxicating touch, your insistent love they cannot shut down for much longer— all made them forget their inanition and diminished vigor within.

"Of course I can stay," Hange smiled before letting themself sink back into your embrace, drowning themself into your depth until they couldn't breathe. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[plutoccult]

MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: a few years after the successful peace negotiations, you and jean celebrate his first birthday with your new baby boy, but jean can’t help but look back on what it took to get to this day after dreaming of it as much as he could hope to live without breathing.

word count: 1.2k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: something short and sweet that’s not soul crushing angst. a shocker on my end, really. BUT, the attack on titan anime has finally ended. it’s like a chapter of my life is over, but a chapter ending only means a new one beginning. i always wanted to write something that depicted some sort of event after the end of the story, so it’s nice to fully bring that vision into fruition. i love writing for jean and i’ll miss him and the rest of the characters so very much, but the writing doesn’t end here for me! more content will come out of me until i get bored of it. i do, however, hope you enjoy this little fluff piece.

when dreaming about what life could be without titans or any worries, jean always knew what the perfect life would be for him. it was always consisted of the same fantasy; sitting out on a balcony with a glass of the finest liquor in hand, wife inside the house, and a newborn baby with the cutest, most innocent smile in his wife’s arms. the ideal daydream used to have a faceless woman, then mikasa took over for a brief second after being struck by her upon their first meeting, but now it’s been the same face for many, many years. since falling head over feet completely, jean could now only picture his future with you bearing his love and his children, and only that would be the perfect life for him. nothing else, just you.

sometimes jean wondered what life would be like if marco were still around. who would have died in his place instead of him that day? who would’ve had to deal with the pain of losing their best friend instead of him? would he live next door to jean’s dream home and babysit the kids whenever? jean liked to imagine marco as the perfect uncle. uncle marco. if only it could all be real. even so, all these years later, he was grateful for the life he had been given.

after years of hell fighting for the greater good, jean was finally able to settle down and live that perfect life he so desperately craved in his youth. he wasn’t very young anymore; small wrinkles began to form, his muscles grew tired far more easily, signs that he was starting to grow old, but not quite just yet. there was still more life to live, so much more he could live for.

today was jean’s birthday, and just like his teenage fantasies, he sat on a balcony with a glass of whiskey just as he imagined. the view of the town he lived in was great, but not the greatest. the only difference between jean’s dreams and his reality that there wasn’t a barrier between him and what he wanted most; you, holding your little baby boy in your arms.

caught in the middle of daydreaming, you emerge from inside the house and join jean on the balcony with your son. you gently grab the baby’s hand and pretend to act like he’s the one waving to jean, which makes him smile.

“does baby marco want to say hi to daddy?” you coo while jean looked at the two of you in awe. naming your child after marco was always in the cards, neither of you doubted it for a second when you both expressed wanting children. it was just the most beautiful thing in the world when he was finally born, after all this time of knowing what you wanted.

“here, lemme hold him.” jean offered, extending his arms out for baby marco. you carefully hand him over then sit down and watch as the infant reached his hands out to grab jean’s face, who was gently cradling him in his arms. “he’s getting so big now, i can’t even believe it.”

“i know.” you say with a smile on your face. “by the way, some letters came in the mail for you.”

“from who?” he questioned.

“armin and mikasa, of course. reiner and pieck too.” you began to ramble, listing off the names of all who sent letters for jean on his birthday. “oh, can’t forget connie. and then levi sent something that gabi and falco seemed to have signed—”

“so… pretty much everyone?” jean interrupted with a chuckle.

“queen historia as well.” you end off the list, giggling to yourself for forgetting such an important name. you simply can’t forget the queen, after all. “oopsie.”

“well, i oughta write everyone back as soon as possible.” he said, but you disagreed.

“you can write after cake, okay? i’ll go grab it now.” you say, standing up from your seat so you could head inside of the house.

“i told you i could make it.” jean insisted. “i don’t like making you do the work for me.”

although his words were sweet, you wouldn’t do that to him today out of all days. “make your own birthday cake? please. i’ll be right back.”

jean sat with baby marco close to him while you disappeared into the house for his birthday treat. you come back with a cake that has an array of lit candles, gently setting it down on the table as far away from the baby as possible. you take the baby out of jean’s hands while you sing happy birthday to him and sit across the table, your voice as soothing as the breeze.

when it was time for jean to blow out the candles and make a wish, he simply couldn’t think of anything to wish for. he finally had everything he ever wanted; the love of his life, a family of his own, and most importantly, peace. you both fought like hell a million times over to get here, doing things you regretted all the time. the past you shared together was ridden with sin, but the future didn’t have to be, and right now, the future was bright and golden like daylight.

if there was anything to possibly wish for, it was for things to stay just like this, so jean closed his eyes and blew out the candles and wished just for that. his eyes opened up to the sight of you and your son, and he was so happy to see it right in front of him.

“happy birthday, jean.” you say softly. baby marco beamed with the most innocent grin, his youthful laugh almost bringing jean to tears.

“thank you, my love.” he mustered up the words to say without crying.

jean insisted he cut the cake himself. seeing as you made it, this was the least he could do, and you didn’t argue. he sliced a piece for you first and set it down in front of you, watching as baby marco eyed the cake in complete awe.

jean’s eyes stray away from cutting his own piece as he found himself watching you with the baby. you were trying to eat your cake, but you couldn’t help but laugh at marco trying to get some of it from your fork.

“ah, no, no, no. you can’t have cake.” you coo, booping baby marco on the nose.

it was times like these that made jean so grateful. he captured even the smallest grain of a moment, cherishing every single one with the thought that tomorrow is not always promised, even when you two were free of the burdens of a solider saving humanity. no matter how many times he made a wish on some candies, there was always that “what if?” thought in the back of his brain that this some day would be taken away from him.

you look up and catch jean staring at you as if he were frozen, like he was taking a million pictures with his eyes. “what are you doing?”

“remembering this.” he simply replied, the best way he could put it all into words.

the love you had for each other and the life that’s been given to you would always be yours, all yours, and it would last beyond the very last breath both of you would take. in the end, all of the hardships were worth living to see this day.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[r0wdy-rat]

Face Down

pt i pt ii pt iii pt iv pt v

Masterlist

AN: hey team wouldn’t it be funny if i dropped off the face of the earth for 4 years and then returned and wrote another chapter randomly on a sunday afternoon? i think it would be funny

Summary: You enter a period of growth and knowledge. Unfortunately for Levi, you do not enter a period of temperance.

You found Levi’s apathy towards you had its limits. One such limit was Furlan.

You didn’t know if it was because he brought you on the raid or if it was something else, but, as always, Levi reached the end of his patience abruptly and without warning.

Furlan was standing in front of you, hips between your spread knees. Now that you had punched him in the head and learned of Levi’s overall involvement in the plan, your temper had cooled enough to allow him to be near you without wanting to plunge a knife into his ribs. His hand grasped your chin, bony fingers tilting your face up so he could get a better look at the gash running across your brow. Furlan hummed, the sound high in his throat as he dabbed a damp rag at the dried blood around your cheek. He scrunched his nose, lips parting in concentration as he leaned closer to you to get a better look at your wound. You just blinked at him, studying his swollen and swelling eyes, until the rag pressed against something tender, and you hissed out a breath through your teeth at the sudden sting.

Furlan startled, but before he could say anything he was gone.

Now, Levi was there between your thighs, invading your space as you sat on the counter. Your cheeks pinked at the proximity, at the intensity of his gaze leveled right at you. No, not at you. At the cut. He still wasn’t looking you in your eyes. You twitched, trying to turn away in frustration when his fingers curled into the hair at the nape of your neck, holding it tightly. He used his grip to steer your face back where he had wanted it, his features now shuttered with annoyance.

“It won’t need stitches.” Furlan huffed from where he was shoved across the room. “The risk of infection is honestly higher than anything right now. She needs a bath. Or two, with all the grime on her.”

Grime, you mused

What an odd thing to call Jakobs brain matter.

You were on your third bath. 

 Surely, you think, the water will stop turning red at some point. Surely, it will slow, you pray, as you step into the cold bath, and watch the pink spread. 

You were covered. In Jakobs, in the woman who killed him, in your own blood. Three full tubs of water, and it was still caked beneath your nails and in your hair and you could still taste the iron in your mouth. You scrubbed, and scrubbed, and turned as pink as the water around you from your roughness before Ma came in. 

Sweetly, she pulled your hands away from yourself. She bathed you like you used to bathe Miss Kuchel when she was too sick to move. When she was done, she dressed the fresh wounds you had carved into yourself with your nails in your haste to get the blood off. 

“Oh, child,” she tutted, tears in her eyes, as she tugged a dress over your head, “there was nothing you coulda done for Jakobs, But I’ll see to it that something is done for his family. They’ll be taken care of.” 

Despite her kind words, you still felt the weight of your mistakes pressing into you. You stared off into space. After the thrill of finding 3DMG wore off, you were only left with the aches. Your hand from punching Furlan, your heart from losing Jakobs, your soul from Levi’s estrangement. 

He still couldn’t look at you.

If you weren’t so numb, you might be mad. 

But you were numb, and what lay beneath that buzz was a wave of emotions you felt would overtake you if you let them, so you chose to reside in the static instead. 

Ma, as it turns out, left as soon as she was done caring for you. She took the horse and carriage to deliver her and Jakobs portion of the goods to a salesmen, and then gave his earnings to his family.

It took the government a day to find her. 

News of Ma’s arrest reached your ears in even less time. 

You sank deeper into the numbness. 

Kur tried to comfort you, told you that Jakob’s family got their share before they caught her, and that at least one end was tied up. But the one finished story with Jakobs just made the unfinished ones glaringly obvious. Ma, nurturing, kind, crackshot Ma, was gone, aboveground and lost to you. Ponye was trying to keep spirits light, but even his devil-may-care attitude was brittle. Furlan did his level best to not piss you off anymore, since you’d given him a second shiner. Levi...

Levi was still refusing to look at you. 

You knew he was still around. You could feel his eyes on you, but by the time you’d find his hiding spot he was usually already moving on. Everything felt wrong, disjointed. You felt like you were missing a limb. You had never fought like this. Even over the earthworm. Even over your disappearance before Miss died. Even during your most heated arguments about the benefits and risks of you signing up with her old pimp, he had never seen fit to ignore you.

Nothing felt right. You wanted to go back to the way things were before.

Furlan called a meeting. 

The five of you sat in a huddle in your little warehouse, and you tried not to notice how Levi sat beside Kur, not beside you. Ponye grinned at you and scruffled your hair when he noticed your sad face, and you tried to let it lift your spirits, but you still felt...

Numb. 

“We can’t sell the 3DMG. The government is tracking it. We’re enemies of the state, after what we did.”

Kur protested, his soft voice ringing out in the stale air. “But you told us they were already stolen.” 

Levi scoffed. “No, they won’t want anyone thinking that a person inside their military would steal from the king. They want to pin all of this on us.” 

That’s all well and good, Levi, you thought, but why won’t you look at me.

As if sensing your thoughts, Levi looked at Ponye, next to you. You had never felt such homicidal rage in your life. 

The only thing beneath the numbness is anger. You try to shove it down. It keeps rising back up your throat, though, like bile. Your chest aches, and you fear what you’ve been keeping beneath your anger and your apathy. You know it will sweep you away and crash you against the rocks. It will rip you apart with its tide, and you won’t have a safety raft to cling to. 

“So, you led us into a trap?” Ponye asked, surly and mistrusting, “Is that why you won’t look at her? You feel guilty you didn’t keep her far enough away? How much are they paying you?”

Levi bared his teeth at the blonde, “I look at her enough,” he growled, and as if to prove a point, stared dead at you. 

You felt pinned by his gaze. The yearning you had felt for so long had suddenly vanished as if it had never existed, warmth filling the hole in your chest. Your heart shuddered inside your ribs. Had you always felt like this, when he looked at you? Or had the loss of his gaze driven you to new heights?

But... it was different. His eyes were shuttered, now, when he looked at you. He looked like he was a magnet, being repelled by his twin. 

The warmth in your chest soured. You felt like you’d be sick.

What had you done?

In the end, the solution to your problem was quite clear. You couldn’t sell the 3DMG. So, the only remaining option was to learn to use it. Surely, being able to soar in the air like a bird would make your heists all the easier, and Ponye was more than enthusiastic to be the first one to try it out.

The boy was whooping and laughing, even as he sent himself crashing into every surface possible, even as he bruised himself and dislocated his arm from not being able to keep his balance in the damn thing. You would have laughed, if you weren’t busy chasing after the bastard to make sure his head was still attached.

Meanwhile, you watched as Levi soared overhead like he’d been doing this his whole life. Prick, you thought gleefully, showing everyone else up, as always. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, and your stomach was flipping in your guts. Even when he was acting like a stranger, you still couldn’t help but root for him with everything in you. You didn’t want to help it. Levi, for all of his fussing, was yours. Yours to chase after, yours to keep safe, yours to be with. He would never be alone, regardless of how prickly he decided to act towards you. Even if you hadn’t promised Miss to keep him with you, you feared this inclination would be just as strong.

A hand pulled you from your reverie. Gripping a harness, Furlan grinned roguishly at you, “Let Kur start chasing this moron around the alley and go join Levi up there. We haven’t even seen you try it yet.”

You pressed your lips together, contemplating, and then grabbed the harness. “Alright. Don’t worry, I’m more than happy to show you all how it’s done!”

Furlan laughed, ruffling your hair and shoving you towards the fuel cannisters that lay nearby. “Yeah, yeah, just try not to die from a broken neck. Levi would have my head. Bastard barely even let me give you one a’those.”

You frowned at that, eyes going to trace him as he soared above you. He was so far out of reach with you down here. And by the walls did you want to yell at him right now. “Well, don’t you worry about that Furlan. I’ve got this all under control.”

As soon as you managed to get into the air properly, you nearly let go of all your anger.

Despite the rough tugging on your hips when you latched onto the Underground’s structures, despite the way your shoulders cried out at every shift and turn, despite the way your hands cramped from clinging to your triggers…

Walls, this was the most amazing thing.

You felt so free. Freer than a bird. Freer than you had ever, ever been trapped down here. It was like all your fears were left on the ground. No sneering pimps weighing your worth like a butcher with a piece of meat, no MP’s to leer at you from dark alleyways, no thugs to compete with for jobs. Fuck, with this gear, your group would be the only thieves that mattered down here. You felt the laughter rising in your throat as you raced after Levi, faster and faster. Free. Like a damn bird. You whooped, unable to hold the joy in any longer, and Levi turned to you. His hair was whipping in his face as he took in your chipper cries as you pelted after him, arms extended towards the undergrounds ceiling. You were gorgeous, looking happier and lighter than he’d ever seen you. Even when you were a child and he and his mom had taken you in, fresh-faced and naive, you hadn’t looked this happy. You’d taken to the gear nearly as quickly as he had, and seemed to feel invincible in it, if your raucous cheering was anything to go by.

Finally, he let himself land on a building top, and you came right after him with a screech. While you had figured out flying easily enough, landing was an entirely different story.

You plowed into him, knocking the both of you off of your feet and making you skitter across the rooftop. You wheezed when something heavy landed on you, crushing the wind out of you. You felt him shudder, hot breaths puffing on the sensitive skin of your neck as he tried to catch his breath before he propped himself up on an arm.

And then there he was. Levi. Above you. Eyes still dark, pretty lips parted, hair ruffled and messy as he stared breathlessly down at you. No, not at you. At the cut, healing to an angry shade of pink and bisecting your eyebrow.

You bucked your hips with a growl, and he was tossed from you. He was just so surprised by your sudden attack that he let you straddle him after too. You seated yourself firmly on top of him, thighs clenching around his hips and calves wedging under his knees. He bared his teeth at you, hissing and writhing, and you crammed a hand beneath his head, fingers gripping the hair there and forcing his face where you wanted it. Still, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours, even as his teeth grit from your grip. You shook with rage, all that fury from before rushing back. You wouldn’t let him leave you behind.

“Fucker,” you snarled, “Fucking look at me, Levi.”

He pursed his lips, before his eyes darted to yours and then away. You twisted your fingers until he hissed and writhed, bucking his hips under yours. “I said look at me.” You ordered, getting impossibly closer to him until you could feel the panicked puffs of breath leaving his mouth ghost across your face.

That was when, again, and with no help from Furlan, Levi reached the jagged end of his apathy.

Pt vi

[jearmincentral]

okay wait, armin dying much earlier than jean cause post-titan era the after effects of being a titan made his health deteriorate faster so when Jean visits his grave he tries to recount memories but as time went goes on, Jean struggles to remember basic things about Armin.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[dunbonnets]

Eren: I don't have anger issues! Do you guys think I have anger issues?!

Sonja:

Armin:

Mikasa:

Connie:

Sasha:

Jean: Well, I wouldn't really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

[zekescherries]

🍒﹐DESCRIBING AOT CHARACTERS ׅ ݁ appearance wise

﹒ ׅ⠀﹒ levi ackerman

captain levi is isn't a fan of the spotlight that his title as "humanity's strongest" brings him, he always looks solemn. lips always curved in a small frown. his eyes are dark, a silvery grey; almond-shaped, and hooded. if you peak your head in town you can hear the whispers of women, chatting on about the untold handsomeness of the seemingly valiant soldier. he's short but his presence still demands respect, even without a verbal warning. his chin is always smooth, soft, the slightest amount of facial hair had no chance of growth before he ultimately shaved it off; leaving him clean shaven.

© zekescherries , 🍒

[cosmicjoke]

Hurt

The kid’s got lice.

Well, Kenny guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. Comin’ from that fuckin’ shit-ass, rat infested hellhole Kuchel’d given herself over to, ‘course the kid had lice. Probably had a whole buncha’ other shit wrong with him too. No doubt.

For one, the little bastard hadn’t said more than two words to Kenny in the whole time they’d been together. Quietest, unfriendliest kid Kenny’d ever met, and that was sayin’ somethin’, round here in the Underground.

He looks practically dead, sittin’ over there in the corner, gnawing on a piece of stale bread.

He ain’t wearin’ more than a ragged, threadbare gown that Kenny’s guessin’ was the boy’s only real piece of clothing. He’d ransacked the room in the brothel before takin’ the kid and leaving, lookin’ for somethin’ else he might be able to wear, but there wasn’t nothin’. Only some larger gowns, similarly worn thin, which he reckoned had belonged to his sister. And since she was dead, wasn’t no point in takin’ those.

The kid’s got nothin’ on underneath his gown. No kinda’ undergarments or nothin’. He’d made the kid go out ahead of him when they’d left that room, and the hem of the gown had ridden up, exposing the boy’s backside. Kenny’d seen what looked like bedsores, angry red welts, inflamed and painful lookin’ over wrinkled and filth ridden butt cheeks, and he’d wondered just how long the kid’s been sittin’ there, starin’ at his mother’s corpse. Had to have been a fuckin’ week, at least, for that kinda’ shit to happen. It was a damned pitiful sight, is what it was.

Just like it was now, lookin’ over at the boy, sittin’ there in the corner, chewin’ his bread and barely alive.

The collar of his gown sits stretched and too big on him, slippin’ off one shoulder entirely, dippin’ past his collarbone and revealing a milk white chest, bruised and mottled in spots. The kids ribs poke grotesquely through the skin, pronounced enough that Kenny feels a little sick just lookin’ at it, same as he feels lookin’ at the kids sunken face, eyes too big and set back deep and horrible, like a damned skull with nothin’ but skin stretched too tight over it, lips cracked dry and bleeding fresh each time the boy takes a bite of his food.

He’d fuckin’ told Kuchel, he’d told her, down here wasn’t no kinda’ place to try and raise a child. Tried to tell her there wasn’t no way she’d be able to provide for the two of ‘em. And now look. She was dead, and the kid wasn’t doin’ much better. He didn’t have no shoes or socks either. His feet and hands are filthy, black with grim and soot and dirt and who the fuck knows what else, toes and fingers all cut up. He keeps reachin’ up, scratchin’ at his tangled mop of jet black hair.

Just like Kuchel’s, Kenny thinks.

Thinks, if the kid got some meat on him, he’d look awfully like his mother.

He tries not to think too hard on that, somethin’ ugly and violent shiftin’ in his chest when he does.

Kuchel wouldn’t appreciate it, Kenny don’t think, if he let the rage get him around her son. That’d be low, he guesses, even for him, beatin’ on a boy who looked one stiff breeze away from collapsin’ dead.

“Oi, brat!” Kenny snaps, and he don’t miss the way the kid flinches hard back before he freezes, his eyes goin’ impossibly wider for a moment as he looks up, starin’ scared shitless at him. Kenny sneers. Wasn’t like he’d hit the kid yet or nothin’, but here he was, actin’ like he was expectin’ it. Wouldn’t surprise him, if he were to find out some of Kuchel’s John’s took to beatin’ him. That’s how those types were. Lookin’ to hurt someone who couldn’t fight back. Made ‘em feel big and strong, hurtin’ someone who couldn’t do nothin’ about it. “Slow down there, would ya? You’re gonna’ make yourself sick if you eat too fast. I’m guessin’ you already feel stuffed, huh?”

The kid… Levi… he’d told Kenny his name was Levi, just stares at him, not movin’. Kenny can see his skeletal fingers round the bread, trembling and weak.

“Can’t you say nothin’? I know you can talk. You talked before.”

Still nothin’, and Kenny sighs.

“Well, shit, I hope you ain’t simple. I’m gonna’ have to take ya’ out back and drown ya’ if you are.”

That gets a reaction. Somehow the petrified look on the kid’s face only grows more so, and then those cracked lips of his start wobblin’, and the bread slips, sad and pathetic, from his grasp, fallin’ against the ground.

“… S-sorry. I’m sorry.” He rasps, and jeez, Kenny almost wishes he hadn’t said nothin’, his voice so dry and weak and broken, it sounds like it should belong to an old man, not a seven year old boy, or whatever. It’s fuckin’ unnerving, is what it is.

Though, if Kenny didn’t know when it was his sister got herself pregnant, he woulda’ thought Levi was 3, maybe four years old at the most. He was so fuckin’ small.

He shakes his head, nudging the brim of his hat up higher.

“Welp, seems like you’ve had enough for now. Let’s go.”

Kenny pushes himself to his feet, and the kid shrinks back from him as he comes round the table and toward him.

Kenny rolls his eyes, grabbin’ hold ‘a the boy’s wrist and yankin’ him up to his feet.

“Quit actin’ so jumpy, brat. I ain’t gonna hit ya ‘till you give me a good enough reason to.”

He can feel the boy stumblin’ after him as he pulls him along. It’s his problem, though, if he can’t keep up. Kenny ain’t gonna’ slow down for him, with those short ass legs ‘a his.

Kenny can feel the eyes of ‘a the tavern’s other customers on ‘em as they leave, but none of ‘em say shit, too concerned with their own skin. That suits Kenny just fine. Stinkin’ cowards though, the lot of ‘em. For all they knew, Kenny was gonna’ do somethin’ awful to the kid, but none of ‘em cared enough to even try and find out.

Well, Kenny wasn’t gonna’ do nothin’ awful, though he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t hurt the kid in some way. He knew himself too well for that.

“Are you gonna’ drown me now?” He hears that low, cracking rasp somewhere below him.

Kenny stops, glancin’ down.

Levi’s standin’ there, lookin’ up at him with those too big eyes in that wasted, skeletal face. Kid barely comes up to his fuckin’ knee. He looks at Kenny, stricken and resigned, and Kenny lets go of his wrist.

“No, I ain’t gonna’ drown ya! Don’t ya know when you’re bein’ fucked with?”

Levi just keeps starin’ up at him, and Kenny sneers, disgusted.

“Maybe you really are simple.” He mutters low, turnin’ away. “Well, come on. Ya can’t keep up, it ain’t my problem.”

He starts walkin’, and a moment later, he hears the kid’s bare feet slappin’ against the pavement as he tries to catch up.

Maybe this’d been a bad idea, Kenny thinks as he makes his way to the latest shithole he’d found to occupy. Keepin’ some kid around, even if it was his sister’s, was gonna’ be nothin’ but a pain in his ass. ‘Specially one as ratty and fucked up at this boy was.

Maybe he really should just drown the brat.

Ah… but he couldn’t do that. Just thinkin’ about it had Kenny feelin’ sick inside. Guts all twisted up when he imagined the poor bastard’s little face, scared outta’ his mind, cryin’ and pleadin’ not to die.

Fuck…

Kenny couldn’t do it to some poor kid.

He glances back, and sees the boy still struggling after him, his face bent toward the ground. He keeps stumbling, like his legs just can’t keep pace with what he want’s ‘em to do.

Kenny’s not surprised when the kid finally trips and goes crashin’ to his hands and knees.

He half expects the brat to start wailin’, the way he’s seen the little shits up on the surface start up when they hit the ground, screamin’ bloody murder for their mommy’s.

But Levi don’t make any kinda’ sound.

He sits there for a second, not movin’, before struggling back to his feet, and startin’ forward again.

Kenny can see his knees scrapped raw and bloody. Knows the boy’s palms are no doubt the same. It must hurt.

He frowns, shakin’ his head. ‘Least he wasn’t a whiner.

“You ever hold a knife, boy?” He asks as the kid nearly reaches him.

Levi stops, blinking up at him. As usual, he doesn’t answer.

“Tch. Here.”

Kenny pulls the blade he keeps in his hip holster, flippin’ it round and catchin’ it by its tip.

Levi’s eyes watch the motion, almost mesmerized, and Kenny smirks as he holds it out to him, handle-first.

The boy only stands there, starin’, like he don’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Take it, you dumb shit. I wanna’ see how you handle it.”

The kid’s hand shakes as he finally reaches out, bony fingers wrappin’ round the knife’s handle.

It looks absurdly oversized in the boy’s grasp, palm failing to come all the way round the circumference, the blade nearly big as his whole head. He stares at it like he don’t know what it is, holdin’ it up, his arm trembling with the weight.

“Well?” Kenny presses, a lick of annoyance uncurling in his chest.

Levi keeps lookin’ at the knife, liftin’ it higher, an almost fascinated look in his flat eyes.

But it’s plain as day the kid’s got no fuckin’ idea what to do with it, and finally Kenny snatches it back, Levi’s eyes goin’ wide at the suddenness of it, stumbling back, his backside hittin’ the dirt.

Kenny watches his face screw up in pain, those sores on his ass no doubt.

He huffs, turnin’ away and beginning back down the street.

He don’t know why he thought the kid would know how to handle a blade. He was too young, and Kuchel never did show the strength of the Ackerman bloodline. Skipped right over her like a stone over water. It only made sense, it would skip over her son too. Lookin’ at him, Kenny don’t know if the kid’ll even make it. If he’ll even survive past another year, another two. He’s weak and frail and pathetic. Smaller than he should be. By far smaller. He doubts he’ll ever get that strength.

It’s too bad, Kenny guesses.

Well… he could still try to learn the kid. If he ever found the strength, well then, maybe he’d survive. No skin off Kenny’s back, either way, he gathers.

The boy follows dutifully behind, somehow keepin’ sight of Kenny despite his refusal to slow, and pretty soon they’ve made it to the worn down shake Kenny’d found empty a few weeks back, deciding to take as his own.

“Alright, in ya go.” Kenny ushers the brat through the door.

He dumps his hat and coat on a worn out table he’d scrounged up someplace, before he goes about lighting the lanterns he’s got set up, washing the room in a low light.

The kid stands there in the middle of it, lookin’ lost and wide eyed as he gazes about. His tiny hands fidget nervously in the hem of his gown, unaware or unconcerned how he’s pulled it up past his hips. Kenny gets an eyeful of the boy’s penis and bloated out stomach. Malnurioushed. ‘Course he is.

Kenny shakes his head.

“Wait here. Don’t move from that spot.” He tells him, before headin’ back out. He’s got a big, wooden bucket hangin’ on a hook outside the front door, and he grabs it up before trudging off to a well about a quarter mile down the street. He fills the bucket with water and takes it back.

The kid ain’t moved, only sat down on his bottom in the same place Kenny’d left him, knees pulled up against his chest and arms round his legs. Just like how Kenny’d found him back in that brothel.

Kenny don’t say nothin’, just carries the bucket over and sets it on the ground.

The boy’s so small, he’ll fit in it, easy.

“Alright, get that fuckin’ rag off. Yer takin’ a bath.”

Levi looks up at him, bemused expression across his ugly little face, like he don’t understand what the hell Kenny’s just said.

“You’re god damned filthy.” Kenny snaps. “Go on, take that rag you got on off and get in the water.”

Kenny don’t know what the fuck it is he’s said, but suddenly the kid’s face breaks all apart, his lip trembling, eyes goin’ all wet and shit… shit… he’s cryin’all of a sudden.

“What? What the hell is it?!”

“I tried t-to keep clean. M-Mama… Mama told me it was… it was good. I tried, I cleaned every day. Every day. I tried, I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

The kid’s blubberin’ all over the place, a spew of words from his mouth that Kenny can’t make no damned sense of. All he knows is the kid’s freakin’ the fuck out, for some reason, and he’s got to get him to stop.

“Alright, alright, calm the hell down. Come on.” He tries, but the kid just keeps cryin’ and moanin’, somethin’ about Kuchel and keepin’ their room clean and Kenny’s about had it.

“HEY!” He screams, and the kid gasps, harsh and ragged, collapsing onto the floor and coverin’ his head with his arms like he’s sure Kenny’s gonna’ hit him. Well, he’d been about to, if he’s bein’ honest with himself. If the kid’d kept up that mewling, he was gonna’. But he’s gone quiet as a mouse now, sittin’ there with his face pressed to the dusty floorboards, shakin’ all over.

Kenny stares at him for a long moment, tryin’ to figure out what to do.

Damn, he ain’t used to this kinda’ shit. Normally anyone blubberin’ and carrying on like that in front of him just got a bullet to the brain, and that was that. But he couldn’t very well just off the kid. Not after he’d gone to all this trouble.

He flicks at his nose, tryin’ to think.

“Now you listen here, boy. None ‘a that sissy shit around here. You start cryin’ and hollerin’ like that again, all you’ll get for your trouble is a slap in the mouth. Ya hear?”

Levi nods frantically from where he’s still splayed on the floor.

Yeah, the kid’s taken plenty ‘a beatings, Kenny thinks.

He sighs, reachin’ down and haulin’ the boy to his feet. He don’t weigh shit.

“Come on already, get undressed and get in the bucket.”

The kid listens this time, and Kenny watches, a kind of gnawing pit formin’ in his gut as Levi strips, pullin’ the gown up over his head and revealin’ the most pitiful little body in the world.

He’s bruised all over, varying shades ranging from deep blacks and blues to mottled yellows and greens, washing over skin pale as milk. He’s sickeningly, painfully thin, arms and legs like sticks, shoulders pathetically narrow and bony. Every one of his ribs presses visible and awful against his skin, his chest a sunken, tragic nothing, little nipples hardly darker than the rest of him. His stomach stick out, round with bloating.

Kenny knows what starvation looks like.

The kid’s starvin’ to death. Another week alone in that room, and Kenny’s got no doubt he’d have been dead.

The kid looks up at him then, holdin’ the scrap ‘a cloth he’d been usin’ to cover himself in trembling fingers, wide, scared eyes uncertain.

Kenny rolls his eyes again.

“In the water, kid.”

He watches as the boy hesitates, head swiveling back and forth a moment, like he’s lookin’ for somethin’. And then he takes the rag in his hand and starts foldin’ it up, all neat like, before shufflin’ over to the table where Kenny’d dropped his coat and hat. The kid has to stand up on the tips of his toes to reach the surface, where he places his gown, before turnin’ and hobblin’ back over to the bucket.

His back’s just as bruised and hideous as the rest of him, shoulder blades juttin’ out like the peaks of mountains, every ridge of his spine a large, visible bump. He really ain’t more than skin and bones. And those bed sores Kenny’d spotted before, he’s gonna’ need to do somethin’ about those. Red, angry welts. A few of ‘em were seepin’ out puss too. Fuckin’ disgusting.

Kenny stares at him, watchin’ as he climbs in. Water sloshes over the edges as he lowers himself down.

The water comes up just beneath his chest, and he stares down at it like some kinda’ sad, kicked dog.

Kenny huffs, steppin’ forward. No use standin’ around, he guesses.

He reaches down, pullin’ a smaller blade from his boot, and sees the kid’s face lift.

For a moment, the dull, listless expression wipes away, and his eyes go wide with fear.

He recoils as Kenny takes another step closer, sloshin’ more water onto the floor, and Kenny pauses.

“What’s all that about?” He snaps, rollin’ his eyes. “I ain’t gonna’ do nothin’. That rats nest ya got on your head needs cuttin’, is all. You got lice, kid.”

That seems to get the boy to relax some, though he still watches Kenny with wary, mistrustful eyes as he closes the rest of the distance and kneels down.

“Now just hold still while I cut yer hair. Alright? You squirm around too much, and I might slip and slit yer throat.”

There’s those wide, frightened eyes again, and Kenny laughs to himself at how still the kid goes as he takes a big clump of gnarled and matted hair in a fist. Black as midnight, he thinks, just like Kuchel’s.

He shouldn’t think ‘a her now, though, Kenny reckons. Not ‘less he wants to get real mad. And Kenny knows himself. Knows when he gets mad like that, he’ll take it out on whoever’s most convenient. Right now, that’d be the kid, and Kenny ain’t too particularly wantin’ to lay his hands on the boy. Not when he’s already more skittish than a scared rabbit. Kenny hits him now, he figures, the kid’ll roll right up and never come out.

It’s hard, though, when he looks at Levi’s face, and sees Kuchel’s lookin’ right back. Even starved and wasted as the boy is, he looks just like her. Even his eyes. Those same, thin eyes, a blue so soft, they look more gray.

Shit…

A soft whimper pulls him outta’ his thoughts, and when he comes back to the present, he sees the kid tremblin’ in his grip, a sad, pitiful keen slippin’ past his dry, chapped lips.

“Whats’a matter?” Kenny grumbles. “Didn’t I tell ya to hold still?”

Levi don’t answer, his whole body shakin’ like a leaf, and Kenny realizes suddenly how hard he’s grippin’ the boy’s hair.

Well, fuck…

He loosens his hold.

“Hey, sorry ‘bout that. I got lost in my thoughts a minute. Ya know how it is, huh? I didn’t mean to hold ya so hard. Now quit that whimperin’. What are ya, a dog?”

Levi shakes his head, his face turnin’ away.

Jeez, but he’s a timid little bastard, Kenny thinks, frownin’. That kinda’ shit wouldn’t do. Not down here. Kid’d get eaten alive, if he kept on bein’ so wiltin’ like that.

“Now just hold still.” Kenny tells him again, and begins slicin’ through clumps of thick hair.

It takes a while, but Kenny eventually manages to get it trimmed down ‘till there’s nothin’ but a short fuzz coverin’ the kid’s noggin’. He even manages to stop tremblin’ so bad about halfway through, and Kenny thinks he almost feels proud ‘a the little sucker.

He rinses him off with just straight water after that, (ain’t got no soap), before pullin’ him from the makeshift tub.

“Feels better, huh?” He asks as he dries the kid off, rubbin’ him down with some old rags he had lyin’ around.

Levi nods, not sayin’ nothin’ otherwise.

Once Kenny’s through rubbin’ his head dry, the boy keeps liftin’ his hands and runnin’ his fingers through what’s left of his hair, seemin’ fascinated by the way it feels.

He looks even uglier with like this, Kenny thinks. Somehow even more skeletal.

“I ain’t got no clothes that’ll fit you ‘round here, so you’re just gonna’ have to keep yerself wrapped in this here blanket for now. Alright?”

Kenny hands him some worn out old thing he’d found stuffed in a drawer, ridden through with moth holes. He thinks it might’ve been a possession from his childhood with Kuchel. From before they were run off their land, their house engulfed in flames at their backs, gun shots peltin’ down into the earth around ‘em, loud, whizzing cracks in their ears.

He shakes his head of the memories, shakin’ the blanket when he realizes the boy still ain’t taken it.

Tiny hands finally reach back, fingers foldin’ into the offered material, and Kenny watches the kid struggle with its weight as he wraps it clumsily round his pitiful little body.

He regards the kid a moment longer.

“Alright, well, I gotta’ go out and get us some supplies. So you just stay here and I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go runnin’ off nowhere while I’m gone. Not ‘less you wanna’ get yourself killed or picked off by some freaked out pervert. Ya hear?”

Levi nods, clutchin’ the blanket around him like his life depends on it, squattin’ there on the floor.

“If ya gotta’ take a piss or shit, there’s a bucket out through the back door there where ya can do your business. Don’t you go messin’ on the floor in here, or I’ll beat you upside your head. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Y-yes Sir.” He actually talks, voice nothin’ but a cracked whisper.

Kenny frowns.

“Don’t go callin’ me that. Kenny’s just fine.”

Again, the boy nods, and Kenny huffs.

“Alright, well… I’ll be seein’ ya.”

He turns to go.

“… Th… thank you.” He hears behind him, that weak, rasping voice.

He stops, lookin’ back over his shoulder, and sees Levi lookin’ up at him. His eyes too big for his face, overbright.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, boy. I ain’t gonna’ be soft on ya, if that’s what yer thinkin’.”

The kid’s head shakes no, and he falls back onto his bottom, curlin’ away.

Kenny sniffs, flickin’ at his nose.

“Good. Stay put and I’ll be back.”

He strides from the hovel he’s been shakin’ out in, slammin’ the door shut behind him, back out onto the streets.

Somethin’ ugly twists in his guts, then. An awful, sinking mire in his brain. The boy’s face in his eyes, wasted and tragic.

He thinks he wants to put his hands round the pathetic animal’s neck. Squeeze and squeeze and squeeze ‘till those sad eyes ‘a his pop right outta’ his skull.

Thinks what a rotten bastard he is, and somethin’ pained lances in his heart, a hideous weight.

The boy’s hurt seared into his mind.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 34 Everyday before

Chapter 34 of Cherry

A/N: One more chapter

Warning- Fluff, mentions of death, ptsd, angst and swearing

Takes place during- The final chapters special 2

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Mother…

That’s why her piercing gaze is so familiar. The rest of her face is unrecognizable, but her eyes are those from your nightmares, they’re evil.

“Didn’t your midget mention me?” She asks in a soft and very feminine voice that catches you guard.

“You…” you stammer and return her piercing gaze without trying to exceed yourself and welcome back this anger you’ve been trying to overcome. “You used to hide me in closets. You kept me inside them. I’m still afraid of the dark because of you.”

Marie blinks and releases a soft scoff that sounds almost amused. “It was for your own good. I couldn’t risk people seeing you. You were a little girl, and when Lucius wasn’t home I had to do what I had to do for your own good.”

Lucius…one of your brothers? Which one out of three?

“Lucius?” You ask about him only because it’s your brothers that you care about, you can’t bring yourself to care about her. Ever. You were only ever curious to see what she looked like, and now that you see that she is beautiful, your curiosity has been fulfilled and now all you’ll wonder is why she let your father touch her.

“Who is he?” You ask hesitantly.

Marie pulls a cigarette out and puts it between her lips first before she answers. “My eldest. Your older brother. He’s the one who would take care of you and your brothers. He’s dead.” She announces bluntly before she lights her cigarette.

You swallow thickly and avert your gaze.

You can’t say you feel sad. Do you feel bad? Yes, but not sad, you don’t have any recollection of him. He’s just a story now.

“And that…” she trails off to point ahead. When you follow what she’s pointing to you see the guy with a buzz cut dancing with Mikasa. He’s looking over here too.

“…Is Eric,” she continues. “He’s 2, no, 3, 2? Well, he’s older than you are.”

You drift your eyes to her and shoot her a glare over the fact she doesn’t know how old her own child is.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she quickly remarks. “You look like your father when you do that.”

Better than being her. But still not a compliment.

“Anyway,” she snickers and sits back. “Then there’s Ben, my military boy. Which in fact,” she says and points at you with her cigarette. “He’s the general, and before that, he was closer to you than you knew. He was in the Military Police.”

You stiffen and look down at your hands with growing shock.

Does he know about you? If so, why did he never talk to you?

“You can’t blame Eric, he didn’t know about you until a couple of years back. He’s actually quite excited to meet you, but for now, I just needed him to distract—”

“What do you want from me?” You cut her off and narrow your glare back on her. “Why now?”

Marie shrugs. “Curiosity. This is a new era for humanity, my girl. I wanted to turn over a page and start a new chapter,” she rambles and lets the cigarette burn in her surprisingly well-manicured fingers—“I’m getting old, I want to retire, right my wrongs,” she says with the least sincere face ever.

Kenny was many things, but you could see when he was sincere, even through that tuff and hardened exterior. He wasn’t affectionate and mushy, but he was honest.

Marie though? You can read her, there’s an ulterior motive behind her eyes, something evil you can’t handle anymore.

You’re slowly starting to get better, and you can’t deal with the bullshit that comes with her anymore. Besides, she might’ve birthed you but she was never your mother, you had mother figures, and none of them were her.

“Then do so away from me,” you sneer and get up, managing to finally give Mikasa an out to rush over—“I want nothing to do with you.”

Marie leans forward and slowly tilts her head.

“I’m starting to get better,” you continue louder each second as you’re beginning to overflow with different emotions. “I want to heal from the part I had in the war, from the shit that I went through because you couldn’t be a mother, so stay the hell away from me,” you snarl and step back towards Mikasa who grabs your shoulder the moment she reaches you.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” Mikasa asks right away with concern.

You exhale and shake your head stiffly. “Nothing. Just saying goodbye to this woman here.” You press your hands on the table and lean forward to add a few more things. “Kenny was never a father either, but at least he had his reasons. He cared for me in his own way, but you, you’re nothing, so stay away. And if I see you around me I will not hesitate to get rid of you.” You stand up straight and huff out through your nose, making her grin and clap.

“Well, well, Little Uri,” she interjects without looking or sounding offended. “That’s what he called you, yeah? Uri? After that Reiss man, he was so obsessed with? Anyway, you have some balls on you kid…that’s all I ever wanted to see. Hm…good luck in life, kid.”

You blink and step back with slight surprise after you expected more. An outburst or a counter. But this is it?

“Come on, Y/N,” Mikasa urges you as she tugs your arm. “Let’s call it a day.”

You steal one last look at the woman still casually sitting down with her cigarette now in between her lips, and admit that you bear some resemblance look-wise, but that’s it, you could never be like her otherwise and you’re glad.

“Let’s go,” you whisper to Mikasa and let her turn you away to quickly stride out of the cantina.

“Are you okay?” Mikasa asks the moment you’re out.

You glance at her and nod honestly. “Yes. She was never in my life, so I can’t be upset over someone that was never there. I was curious to see her, and I see that she’s quite beautiful, so now my curiosity is satisfied.” You offer her a soft assuring smile and another nod. “I’m okay.”

Mikasa holds your gaze for a moment to read if you might be hiding any other emotions so she wouldn’t worry, but all she sees is sincerity, so she lets it go.

“I told you we should’ve not gone in,” she gloats.

You laugh softly. “She would’ve found me regardless, best to get out of the way. But I guess this means no more slackin’ off.”

Mikasa nods, and just before you get further away you both hear running footsteps before a voice calls out. “Wait! Y/N?”

Mikasa and you both stop in your tracks and peer over. That’s when you see that it’s Eric, your brother.

“I don’t want you to make any excuses for her,” you immediately interject and make him come to a stop. “She might’ve been a mother to you, but she wasn’t one to me, so don’t talk to me about her.”

Eric lets out a deep breath and places his hands on his hips and nods quickly in agreement. “No, yeah, yeah, that’s fine. She’s outta mouth and outta mind.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at his comment.

“You,” he points. “You’re my sister.”

You and Mikasa share a quick look before you nod stiffly. “Apparently so.”

“Well,” he says and hits his hands on his hips. “I thought I was the only child for so long, it was boring. I mean Ben is a military man, he was raised by his father after Lucius died, but that father then sold him off to the military or whatnot,” he rambles. “And I only barely found out I had a sister. I didn’t remember you. So…” he shrugs. “Maybe we can talk. We can talk to Ben and all talk together.”

You let out a breathless laugh before you give in. They’re the only reason why you wanted to meet your mother in the first place.

“Fine,” you sigh. “But only you. If I see her with you I’ll forget about you all over again. Got it?”

Eric flashes you a charming smile and nods eagerly. “Got it. Uh, where?”

“Hm, how about tomorrow? Right above here, there’s a teashop on Main 65. We can meet there at 1 pm.”

Eric nods and claps his hands. “Gotcha. Cool. Cool.”

You shoot him a small smile and offer him a small wave before you turn away and continue to walk away with Mikasa.

Once you’re a ways away she nudges your arm. “He’s like you. Talks a lot and is very chipper.”

You feign a laugh and nudge her harder. “Was he flirting with you? Maybe we can become like a twisted family, huh?”

Mikasa goes serious and glares at you for such an insinuation, making you chuckle and throw your arm around her. “Come on let's go see if my old house is still standing.”

——

Dear, Levi

Do you remember the brothers I have? Well, I met them. Both of them. I was hesitant to meet my older brother, Ben, because apparently he’s been in the Military police, and he knew about me so I was kind of offended that he didn’t present himself, but after my other older brother Eric basically begged me to present ourselves to him, well, I’ve decided to give it a shot!

Plus, the therapist says that working towards forgiveness right now as I’m trying to work on my anger is significant. I can choose to keep Ben out of my life as I get to know him, he says. And Mikasa says that too. So I’m giving it a shot, and you know? They’re not bad.

Ben is quite serious, and reserved, and he has a poor sense of humor. Oh, and he has a serious cigarette addiction. Can’t say I blame him though. Anyway, he’s trying to get on my and Eric’s good side.

Which leads me to Eric. He’s very cheerful, and he has a great sense of humor, Mikasa says he’s a lot like me personality-wise, but I don’t see it. He’s wicked smart, but kind of sloppy which is kinda of gross, but regardless, he was a huge mama's boy through and through, and then I don’t know what it was; the fact that he knows he has more family, or he was growing tired, but he told me that my mother wanted to use me to fight for her in some stupid turf war she’s currently in. She didn’t care, she knew I was strong like Kenny, so she wanted my power…can’t say I’m surprised.

Which is why I busted her and her rival! With the help of Mikasa, my brother Ben, and Eric. The underground considers us heroes now, so I’m glad. I would like for the underground to disappear completely, but people have rooted themselves too deep so there’s still people who want to stay, and as long as that happens then I’ll help them live better lives, even if it’s underground.

Anyway, I’m glad Eric did that. It must’ve cost him a lot, I can’t imagine what he must’ve felt betraying Marie like that, but I know pain, so I’m helping him. He lives with Mikasa and me now! So we’ll bond a lot. I’m excited.

Anyhow, I’m finally going to that tree. I’ve finally found the strength and I’m going. Mikasa and my brothers are coming with me too. I’m starting anew. Or so I think.

I’m glad you’re moving on your leg more and that they’re starting to accept all of you. I love you, until next time.

Yours truly, Cherry.

P.S. Jean finally wrote to me. It was short, and a year and a half later, but he finally wrote back!

——

That tree, your special tree where a lot of your childhood is rooted, and the reminder of who you were and what happened is planted there too beside Marco’s stone.

The tree is basically in your backyard, you chose to make your home close to it on purpose, but no matter how close you are to it you haven’t been able to find the courage to go visit it until now. And you’re not going alone either, Mikasa and your brothers are going to, so maybe that’s what makes it easier.

“Just up there, that tree there,” you point ahead at the tree you’d never forget any markings of.

Ben and Eric keep walking to it, but you stop and stare at it with hesitation.

“You know, no matter how long I’ve spent up here,” you hear Eric interject. “I can never get over how green everything is.”

“That’s what happens when you live too long behind mothers skirts,” Ben retorts.

“Mother never wore skirts.” Eric quips.

Mikasa lets out a short breathless laugh as she stops by your side. “Do you need time?” She asks.

You pull your eyes away from the tree to look at her. And the moment you lay your eyes on her you feel comfort and the confidence to finish the last stretch.

“No,” you mumble. “We’re basically there. Let’s go, I don't know how long Ben will last with that button-up.” You offer her a tiny smile, and Mikasa glances over at your older brother and scoffs softly as she catches him swatting away bugs flying around him.

You finish walking to your destination and find it a bit easier than you thought, but once you reach the tree, as you see the headstones planted in front of it your breath catches and you feel that agony puncturing your heart all over again.

“This is morbid,” Eric mutters quietly. “It’s kind of freakin’ me out.”

“Shut up,” Ben hisses.

You can’t say that seeing Marco’s headstone brings you so much sorrow that you feel paralyzed because the truth is, you’ve grieved him. He’s been dead for a long time now, so his death isn’t what truly affects your state of mind. Seeing your tombstone, seeing the memories of who you used to be playing around this area is what made coming here worse.

You so badly wanted to come and feel better, feel like you used to, but you’re only reminded of the pain you suffered. All you feel is sorrow and hot tears streaming down your cheeks. That’s why you could never make yourself come up here, but that’s also why you’re here.

The vivid and beautiful colors this world is painted with are slowly coming back to light. You’ve slowly started feeling joy in just hearing the wind howling in your ears. You’re slowly seeing beauty in the ugly once again, and it’s amazing, but you also know that you can’t be who you used to be. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you finally made it to the tree because you can finally let go of your old self.

“This is where I lie,” you break the silence that had built as everyone gave you a moment of silence. “This is where my family buried me after they thought I died, and for so long I tried to deny that the girl I used to be lay here, I tried to fight it and tried to put myself back together, but,” you sniffle. “Here I am. And It’s okay. I’m letting go and starting anew.”

You exhale deeply and feel, or think you feel a weight rise off your chest as you finally make peace with yourself. Sure it’ll still take time to heal from the pain, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you used. Your nightmares are less, and they’ll never go away, but they don’t paralyze you anymore. You accept who you let go of, and accept who you’re slowly becoming. And it wouldn't feel complete without putting flowers down, so you crouch down and leave flowers in front of your tombstone before you place some on Marco’s as well.

“Do you want us to say something too?” Eric asks, causing all eyes to fall on him.

Yet whereas Mikasa and Ben looked annoyed and upset at Eric’s boldness, you laugh and shake your head. “No. This is just a me thing. But I wanted to do something with you guys too.” You look at everyone who came with you before you drift away to the creek's edge.

“The flowers in my hand are for us,” you share and wipe away your tears before you hand everyone a flower. “For example, I’ll go first,” you continue and dip your feet in the waterbed. “Here lies me, my past, my pain, and a soldier.” You drop the flower in the water and watch the current take it away. “Today I welcome a veteran, an underground hero,” you laugh. “A sister, and who I will become down the line in my long future.”

You turn and face your group with a smile. Yet they don’t share that same enthusiasm, so you step away from the water with loud wet footsteps and approach Eric first to pull him to the river.

“Do it. For me,” you plead sweetly.

Eric looks at you and scoffs. “You’re starting your new life with manipulation?”

You shoot him an innocent smile and he holds your gaze for a moment before he steps into the water and throws his flower in the water.

“There goes me, I guess…a son, and a thug…” he trails off and watches the flower float away for a lingering moment.

You don’t stand close so you can’t see his expression, but you can imagine it’s not a happy one. He’s letting go of a life he knew, he’s finally letting go of the only person he had for so long. She was not a good person or a good mother, but it’s all he had and he’s finally accepting that it’s okay to let go.

“And you’re welcoming someone new,” you interject for him. “A brother, a hero, and hope for those in need underground.”

Eric's shoulders fall and he hesitates before he looks back at you with a smile and glossy eyes.

You mirror his gesture and notice Ben walk to Eric’s side to hurl his flower in the water.

“I suppose,” Ben interjects and exhales deeply. “I’m letting go of who I was when the Titans were alive.”

You sigh and watch him walk out of the water bed quickly to return to dry ground, letting Mikasa go next.

Albeit she doesn’t move, she stays where she is and grips onto the flower, making you sigh and hook your arm around hers to comfort her instead of pushing her to do what you wanted. Because unlike Eric and you, letting go isn't as easy. You know her life hasn’t been easy after losing Eren, you see her struggle, and you’ve tried to help her just as much as she’s helped you.

It’s why you let her watch the water drive away the flowers you had dropped instead.

“Ben,” you bring up and slowly look over at your brother. “If you leave, and push us away just know I won’t give you another chance…I’ll leave you behind like I left our mother behind. Understand?”

Ben meets your gaze with slight disbelief as he nods in comprehension.

“Good.” You smile and then look at everyone with you before you grin. “Why don’t we keep going to reach that waterhole before Ben here melts under the sun.” You laugh and Eric soon joins in, causing Ben to sigh.

“What if we race there?!” Eric suggests as he steps out of the water.

You shoot him a pointed look and protest, “no, I’m not running all the way there.”

Eric tilts his head and challenges your gaze. “No? Scared I’ll beat you?”

You scoff and let go of Mikasa's arm to stare him down for a few seconds before you break into a sprint towards the waterhole.

“Hey!” Eric calls out and runs after you, leaving Mikasa and Ben to catch up at a walking pace.

——

*2 YEARS LATER*

Dear Levi,

I don’t like that you’re not returning home. I truly don’t. And yes that’s how I’m starting this damn letter, you old man. WHY COULDN'T YOU COME HOME WITH THE OTHERS? DO YOU WANT ME TO GO OVER THERE?! CAUSE I WILL! I WILL GO ON A BOAT AND GET TO YOU!

Anyway, just so you know, I went to visit Furlan and Isabel, I ranted to them about you. Oh, and I have forgotten to say, my cherry blossom trees bloomed. I wish I could take a picture of how the pink stands out amongst all the green trees that surround my cottage.

Oh and Ducks also live in my pond now! They’ve also hatched their little ducklings, they’re so cute! They shall become friends with my baby chicks.

Anyway, this letter will be short because I’m mad at you.

I love you! I’ll write when the others get here!

Your lovely and favorite child, Cherry.

——

*A FEW WEEKS LATER*

“Okay, okay, how about this pink dress with the matching scarf? Hmm?” You spin around and show off your second outfit to Mikasa. “The scarf can also be around my neck! But I don’t want the wind to hit my head. So around my head, it is,” you continue to ramble to yourself. “With this small white purse?” You lift a small white bag. “Or this one,” you roll out and lift a bigger one that looks identical.

Mikasa sighs and fixes her red scarf as she studies you again, her eyes drifting from bag to bag before meeting your gaze and sharing her thoughts. “He’ll like you regardless, so please just stop changing, and let’s get out before we’re late.”

You snort and laugh nervously before turning to sit down and put on some white heels. “What are you talking about? I’m not doing this to impress Jean,” you brush her off nervously.

“Oh, I was talking about Reiner actually,” Mikasa jokes with a serious face that makes you huff and stand to your feet to face the mirror again.

“Small purse it is,” you decide by yourself before you shift your feet to turn, but stop to fix your necklace and the charm that was all twisted.

“You look desperate,” Mikasa says boldly, making you gasp and cup the charm with an offended look on your face. “He’s still your friend. Not your lover.”

You pout and ignore her to walk away. And the moment you do Eric walks across from you, but stops and backpedals, causing you to look at him with a pointed look. Eric then reaches over and snatches the necklace off your neck.

“You look desperate,” he repeats what Mikasa just said. “Now hurry up we don’t got all day.”

“He’s my best friend!” You argue. “Why can’t I wear it?!”

Eric tosses the necklace to Mikasa who catches it with ease. “Because you’re not dating it’d be weird,” he rebuttals.

He begins to walk towards the door, so you walk to your seat to pick up your cat off your seat and set her down on the floor so she can know to follow after you. “You only say that because you have no friends, you only hang out with me and Mikasa, or Ben all day. Loser,” you snap.

Eric opens the train cart and looks back with a teasing smile. “Only loser here is you.”

You roll your eyes and follow after him with your cat Honey following at your side since she never likes being apart from you.

However, as confident and excited as you felt walking out of the train cart, your nerves to see Jean again after three years makes you slow down your pace, and clench your hands to fists, while you feel your stomach twist and scare off the fluttering butterflies you felt previously. And because you slowed down, unknowingly Mikasa got ahead of you, and knowingly people (men specifically) begin to swarm around you.

First, it was some guy selling Newspapers to the people getting off the boats, the next it was an old florist who saw you hesitate by his stand to admire the flowers.

“Want a sunflower? Freshly picked today.” He walks around the stand and snatches a sunflower to lean it towards you. “No charge. A pretty flower for an even prettier flower.”

He’s flirty big time which is gross, but he is old, and you probably won’t ever see him again, so you smile at him and take the flower he offered. “How did you know sunflowers are my favorite?” You smile and touch your chest as if completely gushed.

“I have an eye for this kinda stuff,” he says cockily.

You giggle and pull out some spare change from your bag whilst you continue to talk to him. “Well, the flower is very beautiful. I wanted to grow some of my own, but they never grew,” you mention with genuine sadness.

The old man points to the sky and props his hand on his stand. “It’s the damn birds. They eat the seeds off the ground I tell ya, try putting a net over it until they bloom.”

You offer him a genuine smile and discreetly leave the coins in the pot for him to find later. “Well,” you say, “that's good advice. Thank you, I’ll try it.” You begin to walk away and he slowly follows behind.

“Come again and maybe I’ll show you what net to use,” he says smugly, making a teasing smile grow on your lips.

“I will think about it,” you say over your shoulder before saying goodbye and continuing down to the dock where Jean and the others were probably already getting off.

Yet as you continue to stride down to the pier you catch a glimpse of Mikasa glaring at you by the gate that leads to the pier.

You offer her a smile and quicken your pace, making your cat's little bell attached to her expensive collar jingle as she tries to keep up. When you reach your cousin she grabs your arm and pulls you with her. “We’re late. They're getting down.”

“So much for waving your scarf at your lovers as they climb down,” Eric teases as he walks back to fall by your side.

“Can you shut up,” you sneer and push him aside.

Eric reacts dramatically and pretends to bump into your other brother, Ben, who is lined up with Historia and the others as they also wait for Peace ambassadors.

“Whoa bro,” Eric laughs at Ben.

Your older brother shoots Eric a side eye and counters with a pinch to Eric’s arm. “Behave.”

Eric snorts and then skips over to catch up to you once again. However, you barely pay any mind to him anymore because now all you can see is Jean first before you can take a look at any of your other friends.

Perhaps it’s because he’s the tallest or not, but he’s the one that caught your eye right away. And right away you noticed the slight change in his appearance.

His hair is brushed back, he no longer tucks his bangs behind his ear. He looks a bit older and seems to be aging gracefully. That suit he wore suits him very well and hugs his biceps extremely well.

Besides that, he looks the same since you saw him last. Except you did think he’d share your smile upon seeing you, he does seem happy to be returning home from what he wrote to you last, but maybe he was just saying that to be nice because his eyes now are widened slightly, and his lips are parted as he watches you approaching him.

Yet you don’t let that affect you, you still beam at him as if nothing happened, as if he hasn’t only sent sporadic letters here and there, and go to embrace Connie.

“Connie!”

Said man hugs you back, making you squeeze him back.

“You’re still strong you know,” he groans.

You laugh and pull back to grab his arms and look at him with admiration. “Look at you,” you point at his hair. “Your hair! You’re not bald!”

Connie grumbles, “I was never bald.”

“It actually looks nice!” You compliment him.

Connie flashes you a smile. “Now that you’re not with Jean would you date me?”

You scrunch your nose and scoff, “no.”

Connie scoffs and looks at you offended, letting you pull back to throw your arms around Pieck since Mikasa is still talking to Armin.

“Hey, you,” Pieck greets warmly.

“I missed you!” You tell her honestly. “We can only write so much on a letter.” You can’t stop smiling and step back to show it off to her.

“You look nice,” she directs at you.

You bow your head. “Thank you.”

“It took her five hours to pick a damn outfit,” Eric cuts in behind you, letting all the attention finally drift to him instead of avoiding him.

“Who are you?” Annie is the only one to ask.

Eric smirks. “Only the most important man of y/n’s life,” he jokes and throws an arm around your shoulders.

You go along with him and look at Jean, noticing that he and Reiner have the same shocked and horrified look on their faces at the mention.

“This is Eric,” you introduce the guy beside you. “My older half-brother.”

Reiner lets out a relieved breath, and Jean laughs nervously.

“Brother.”

“Half brother,” you correct Eric.

Eric pushes you aside now that the act is done but you grab his arm. “Eric, this is my family….Armin,” you point at the blond boy who hasn’t changed that much. “That’s Connie,” you point to the guy next to Armin.

“Sup,” Connie greets with a gentle head rise.

“And that’s—wait!” You exclaim and let Eric go to push past him and Mikasa to reach Ben and grab his hand to yank him out of formation and pull him with you. “This is my other brother, Ben!” You exclaim.

Ben offers them a faint tight tight-lipped smile and a small head nod.

“Ben, this is Armin, Connie, and Jean,” you introduce your best friend once again.

Eric and Ben share a look and slowly Ben’s serious stupor falls, and Eric cuts in. “So this is him, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you snap your head towards your brother.

“Maybe she can finally stop with her obsessive questioning,” Ben plays along.

Eric nudges him and adds, “maybe I should write Jean.”

You frown.

“I wish Jean would write,” Ben adds as he begins to laugh.

“Maybe I should stop altogether,” Eric cuts in and Connie begins to chuckle, causing you to snap your glare at him. He notices and shuts up.

“Shut up,” you hiss and pinch Eric’s arm before you push Ben and twist on your heels to storm away.

“You made her mad,” you hear Mikasa comment nonchalantly.

Without looking back you know your cat is behind you so you just head back to the train and decide to continue reading your book. The others don’t take long to come inside and the first one to find you is your brother.

“It was funny, but I apologize,” Eric interjects.

You raise your book and turn to block his face. “You embarrassed me.”

Eric sighs. “I guess.”

Footsteps approach but you don’t think much of it until you hear Jean’s voice. “Can we talk?”

You lower your book and meet his gaze with a sigh before you nod softly.

.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow @stareatceiling @padfootii @ravensleepyeyes @thanosisadilf @dawneee @babyyblueey @leahseclipse @ifimnotabushimnoone @luvelyxp @ameliabs-world @dragon-master-kai

[psychosocialwai]

Author's Note: This is a new prompt to me, and I got the idea from my friends in the medical field who loved to hike on their freetime.

Written for Rivetra Week Day 1: Rain. I know this is so late that it now feels like Rivetra Month (lmao), but I still want to share this with the fandom. I’m a turtle writer, so it took me forever to write something for the Day 1 prompt. Since I still want to post it despite the weeks that have passed, here it is—I hope you enjoy it!

For the love of the Rivetra ship. x

@rivetraweek2024

Summary: AU. In a daring quest to push her limits, Petra Ral embarks on a thrilling mountaineering adventure—a challenge she has never faced before. As she navigates the rugged terrain and overcomes her interpersonal conflicts, she unexpectedly meets Levi Ackerman: a skilled and enigmatic climber who stands ready to catch her if she falls.

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[hangesdarling]

Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom

rivals, right? — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!

"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night. 

"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on. 

So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on. 

"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears. 

"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly. 

"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you. 

"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles. 

You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing. 

"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile. 

Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?" 

"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk. 

Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other. 

"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."

"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems. 

"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."

"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."

Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve. 

"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."

Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days. 

---

Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one. 

 But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior. 

You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe. 

From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly. 

But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum. 

No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch. 

"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars. 

"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."

You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?

Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year. 

They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."

----

"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent. 

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued. 

"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity. 

"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"

"We're not research partners," you frowned.

"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."

"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."

"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake. 

---

The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal. 

You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.

---

"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down. 

Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"

"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice. 

"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly. 

You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night. 

"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod. 

"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss. 

"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."

"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership. 

But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."

Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.

Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation. 

"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness. 

The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.

Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses. 

"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."

"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.

"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.

Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

---

The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last. 

The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits,  brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.

After all, you're rivals, right?

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[plutoccult]

OUT OF THE WOODS

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: you were notorious for following levi’s every order without hesitation. it was practically unbearable for him, but the one time you disobey him is when he is eternally grateful.

word count: 2.8k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: this is something i’ve never done before aka write for levi! i’m hoping i haven’t strayed too far from his character, but it’s worth trying something new. i must admit, this is a little messy and i’m quite iffy about it, but i at least tried my best. i almost named this “the monsters turned out to be just trees” because i 1. love taylor swift and 2. thought those lyrics captured this almost perfectly, but i decided it was too long and just went with the song title those lyrics are from. this is something entirely new and never before posted anywhere else, but it will also be shared on ao3 as everyone has their preferences on where they like to read. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

you always obeyed levi’s every order, and god, he hated it.

“yes, captain.” you’d say. “right away, captain.” was another one of your go-to phrases. you could just… talk to him? like a normal human being? yes, he was your captain, but levi craved a normal conversation with you.

oh, wait. why did he want that so badly? why did he want to hear your voice say things other than replying to his commands for you and the squad? it’s not like he liked you. no, no! he couldn’t stand you. that’s what this was. right?

levi was particularly known for only listening to commander erwin’s orders and no one else’s, but he didn’t see himself of such importance. it wouldn’t kill you to protest a little bit for once. he even tested your obedience by demanding you glue a broken vase back together. you then proceeded to spend hours restoring it to its former glory. he was surely impressed, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe you actually did it. dare stubborn ol’ levi ever admit it, but he found it kind of cute.

when it came down to the 57th exterior scouting mission, your final order was simple; retreat back to your horses. things didn’t exactly go as hoped, and while the scouts learned something new that day, there was still so much work to do. you wished for everyone’s sake that one day you all could share a proper victory, but it didn’t seem possible just yet with something as stubborn as the female titan.

you and the rest of levi’s squad did as told, but it all went by the wayside when gunther was attacked out of the blue by a figure hidden under the disguise of your scout gear, their green hood concealing their face. there was no time to go along with the plan, now was time to fight back. the squad couldn’t let whoever killed their comrade get away.

as you all attempted to attack, the disguised assailant transformed in front of your very eyes into the female titan you all failed to successfully capture before. now this truly meant war, but the squad was simply no match for this monster.

it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. you lost your squad members one after another. you were the last one remaining, you knew this was it. this was your time to die, wasn’t it? part of you always thought it would end in the middle of battle, but not like this. this couldn’t be the end. you didn’t want it to be.

your brain struggled to catch up with everything happening so fast and hitting you all at once. it was impossible to think straight, to get your head together and fight properly. but it was also impossible to realize eren was turning into his titan form until it was too late. the impact of his transformation knocked you straight into a tree, leaving you unconscious as he avenged your fallen squad members, all while your captain had yet to head to the scene of the crime.

levi immediately knew something was wrong the second he saw the sudden glow of eren’s transformation from afar. of course there was something more to this mission. he had to get there quick before it could possibly get any worse, but his idea of “any worse” had already become true; his squad was gone.

he couldn’t do anything to stop eren just yet, levi knew that. this fight between two titan shifters was to be expected. if only the hothead wasn’t so blinded by rage. levi knew better than to let emotions get to the best of him, no matter how much it hurt seeing his squad like this, dying under his wing.

his eyes scanned the states of everyone. gunther, eld, petra, oluo, and then… you. you, who laid there motionless. the life taken out of you, or so levi thought. he couldn’t let this affect him. levi kept all emotions hidden, tucked and buried in deep where no one could find them, no one except the one person who was capable of bringing them out.

“captain…”

huh?! was his mind playing tricks on him? who dared to deceive his ears? it couldn’t be real. it was nothing. nothing at all. you were dead, levi was sure of it, just like the rest of the squad. he was left alone once again, seemingly cursed with this fate from the day he was born.

but then you let out a cough, blood coming out of your mouth and splattering onto the grass. my god, it wasn’t some sick joke from his brain. you miraculously were alive, and levi was too stubborn to let you die out.

he immediately rushed over to you and flipped you off your side so you laid on your back. you breathed heavily and coughed violently, muttering out weak apologies as blood stained your hands, but levi didn’t care. he’d stain himself over and over for your sake.

“you disobeyed orders.” levi said, trying his best to force himself to stay his usual coldhearted self, but it was a losing battle, just like today’s mission. he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes once filled with anger now becoming soft. “you disobeyed me.”

you could’ve sworn the sight in front of you was like seeing heaven. the impact from earlier made your memories quite hazy, and while you knew you weren’t dead, you sure wouldn’t hate it if this was it. levi’s head blocking the sun made him look like an angel sent from the very land itself, and it was pure bliss.

you closed your eyes with a smile on your face, unbeknownst to you what had truly occurred. to your captain, it seemed like you had left him for good this time, but when he pressed his ear against your chest, he felt the rhythm of your heart as if it were a symphony.

levi couldn’t stand to leave you like this. he had to make sure you got to safety and were treated right away. even if it took you god knows how long to recover, it didn’t matter. but with the female titan trying to take eren alive, he had to remember why he was here in the first place and attempt to clean up the mess the scouts created. you were able to hold out for a little while longer by some sort of miracle, and when levi was able to capture eren back with the help of mikasa, he took you back to where you belonged; with him and the scouts.

by the time you returned to base, you were fast asleep, worn out from the mission. as there wasn’t enough room for all those who were injured, levi took matters into his own hands and tended to your wounds himself, even giving you his bed as he had a much bigger room and it wasn’t like he slept that much anyway. it seemed almost wrong and unprofessional to do so, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish. it’s what a good captain would do anyway, right?

after what felt like ages, you finally woke up, your mind struggling to remember everything from yesterday. you grew confused as you found yourself in what wasn’t your room, and it became even more puzzling as you saw your captain sitting in a chair next to the bed waiting for you to wake up.

the look of impatience and worry was all you could read from his face and body language. his arms crossed, index finger tapping repeatedly like a drum on his bicep. he was looking away from you, watching the wind blow on the trees outside. levi had been using that view to pass the time and keep himself calm, but it didn’t really help much. only the sound of your voice was medicine to him.

“captain?”

levi lightly jumped in his seat and turned to see your face. you had been bandaged up, not a single wound left dirty. you were also quite bruised, and you immediately winced when you tried to adjust the way you sat. you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to you. if only you hadn’t hit your head so bad.

“you’re awake.” he said plainly. he didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm and freak you out, but on the inside, levi was so glad to see you were okay. the look of confusion on your face made him worry, and he felt the need to overshare and explain what was going on. “uh, this is my room. i took care of you since there wasn’t enough help.”

“oh?” you furrow your eyebrows. “what… what happened?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing, y/n.” levi replied. he had been waiting all this time to hear the truth of what happened. you saw what had happened to your fellow squad members, but with the way you lost consciousness, you had a hard time remembering it all. you could only draw blanks, and you felt as if you disappointed your captain.

“i’m… not sure. i don’t remember. i’m sorry.” you frown.

“i figured.” he sighed. he couldn’t get too mad, but part of him longed for an explanation so he could know where everything went wrong.

“where is everyone? surely petra must have helped you with this, right?” you ask, the question paining levi without you knowing a thing. “you couldn’t have done all of this by yourself.”

levi found himself unable to think about how to go with this. he wanted to let you down easy, lessen the blow, but with that look of innocence in your eyes, you just made it so damn hard for him. “y/n, they’re all gone.”

“gone?”

“gone.” he hated having it come out so harsh, but he had to get the point across without any sugarcoating. levi couldn’t lie, it would be an incredible disservice to you.

“no…” then you began to recall all that happened yesterday; the forest, that god damn female titan, it all replayed in your mind like a never ending horror movie. “no, this is all just one big nightmare. you can pinch me now, okay?”

your delusions only made it worse for levi. he couldn’t let you fool yourself thinking there was the slightest chance they weren’t gone, but he saw, he knew. all the life had been taken out of them, and whoever was behind the monster did it so cold-heartedly. it made him seem a little more humane in the eyes of his peers, as shocking as that was.

“i found all of you scattered on the ground. i thought you died just like they did.” levi said, those last few words coming out strained as he struggled to keep it together. he couldn’t let you see him like this, no way. he had to find an excuse to leave you be so he could go somewhere and let it all out without anyone seeing him.

“this can’t be, oh god.” you sob uncontrollably, making levi uncomfortable. he felt this way because it only made him want to cry with you, but at the same time, it felt wrong to feel like that.

“i can give you space to process this.” he began to stand up, but you tug on his sleeve to stop him, much to levi’s surprise.

“no, no, no. stay.” you giving him orders? he couldn’t believe it, but he would let you stop him, just for a moment.

“it is typically me who gives orders, you know.” levi spoke deliberately.

“well.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “i order you to stay.”

and just like you always did with him, he couldn’t help but obey your order. you let go of levi’s sleeve as he sat back down in his chair, too flustered to look you in the eye.

“i just… i wanna say i’m sorry i failed the squad, but most importantly, i’m sorry i failed you.” you say, your words full of utter shame, feeling like a complete failure. it was like you had just harshly tugged at levi’s heartstrings, despite it being crazy to think that levi ackerman did in fact have a heart.

“there was nothing you could do. the female titan outsmarted all of us.” he replied in that typical monotone voice. it almost started to irritate you. you were trying to have some sort of heartfelt conversation and it seemed like he couldn’t take you seriously. levi wanted to take all of it seriously, but he continuously battled with his mind and heart, and his mind kept winning.

“but it shouldn’t have happened.” you try to protest.

“we can’t turn back time, y/n.” levi argued back.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, a huge shock on levi’s end. “god, your words are terrible.”

“excuse me?”

“don’t you know it’s okay to feel things, captain?” you ask him. “i know they call you “humanity’s strongest soldier,” but is being emotionless a requirement?”

he’s unable to form words. where had this fire in you come from? had it been hiding this whole time? where had this disobedient soul been during the entirety of levi’s reign? he couldn’t help but be shocked yet amazed at the same time.

“that squad was like family to me.” you say with tears streaming down your face. “i thought you would’ve felt the same way, but i guess that suspicion i desperately tried to push away was right.”

“…and that is?”

“that you never liked any of us, not one bit, especially…” your lips tremble, but you force yourself to finish your sentence. “especially me.”

when you said those last two words, levi almost gasped. it made him feel so… terrible. so goddamn terrible he knew he couldn’t let his mind win anymore. it was time he chose his heart for once. “that’s nowhere near how i feel, y/n.”

“and how is it that you feel, captain?” you question, refusing to let your tears stop you from standing your ground.

this was it. this was the moment levi would pour his heart out to you. you were a rare jewel who was capable of giving him those pangs in his chest. not everyone could do that, but you sure could without trying or realizing it whatsoever.

“all my life, i thought that there was no point in caring because you’ll lose it eventually, but…” he began to speak, almost tempted to hold back, but he refused to do so any longer. “all i’ve ever been given here is a reason to care, and i didn’t want to show it. i didn’t want anyone to see it, and i wish they could know that i did. i did care, more than what’s possible to express.”

your hardened expression turned soft. to think he didn’t have such feelings made you feel so stupid. it’s easy to judge a book by its cover, isn’t it? but you read levi all wrong. oh so wrong. “you did?”

“i do, even now. that applies to you too, you know.” levi replied without shame.

“i didn’t think it did.” you avert his gaze.

“it’s almost disgraceful to admit how often you cross my mind, y/n.” your eyes widen when those words escape his mouth. was this real life? it seemed too good to be true. levi immediately thought he crossed a line, so he tried to shut the situation down as quickly as he could without ruining this moment. “i’m sorry if that came out weird, i—”

“no, no! it’s not weird!” you swiftly interrupt him. “i… i could say the same thing.”

“you could?” he said in amazement. it was like he was completely oblivious. why else were you always so eager to obey his orders and make sure you never let him down? you wanted him to notice you, and now he has given you his attention in the best way possible.

“yes, which i guess is kind of odd considering this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” you say with a faint giggle towards the end. “it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances, really.”

“i know, and i’d like more, if you do too. it’s not an order, i swear.” levi replied eagerly, which was a pleasant surprise.

“i’d like that, captain.” you grin.

“can i… give you an order though?” he asked with a bit of hesitance.

“seems like poor timing to me, don’t you think?” you question, almost tempted to laugh at him, but you were going to see where this went.

“it’s not. i just… would prefer it if you called me levi from now on, please.” as if this couldn’t get any better. levi was saying “please” to you. god, you loved it.

“okay, levi. now i have an order for you.” you say with a smirk. “have a cup of tea with me, and you’re making it.”

levi smiled at the thought of what he would say next. “right away, y/n.”

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[r0wdy-rat]

Face Down 

pt i, pt ii, pt iii, pt iv, pt v

Masterlist

Summary: You and Levi come to an agreement. You meet Isabel. You're so blindingly happy. That makes what happens next so much worse.

In hindsight, you had pushed him too far. An emotional Levi was an overwhelmed one, a cornered one, and you knew that, but...

You were so hurt.

He had never hurt you like this before. You didn't know what to do. You felt like you'd missed your shot with your 3DMG's anchor and were in free fall. You felt out of control. Miss Kuchel would be ashamed of your lack of poise. Only the Walls knew what Kenny would've said, seeing his charges wrestle like this on a rooftop.

Probably something indecent.

As it was, Levi abruptly flipped the two of you again, and you got the distinct feeling that he had been tolerating you earlier, instead of being genuinely startled. You growled in frustration, fingers tightening in his hair until he retaliated, tangling his own hands in your locks and yanking savagely. You yelped as your head was wrenched back, squirming under him as you tried to mitigate the strain on your scalp.

"Motherfucker," you grit out through clenched teeth as you wrenched your own grip in his hair. You felt something give under your wrath, and you shoved at him with your free hand as you bucked and struggled. Despite this, he still pinned you easily, only infuriating you more. He huffed, emitting a sound that could have been a laugh but was too throaty. His breath puffed across the underside of your chin, your exposed throat, and you wriggled all the harder for it.

Fucker, you missed when he was smaller and weaker than you sometimes.

You hissed in frustration, air leaving your clenched teeth in a whine. You wriggled even harder now, until he abruptly gave you a rough shake with the hand in your hair. "Fucking quit it, you goddamn brat," he snarled, furious and close to your ear. It was such a foreign tone you startled and went boneless beneath him, enough for him to pin your other arm beneath his knee. You felt ready to catch fire, restrained like this. Levi, likewise, was getting tired of your struggling.

"Are you fucking done now?" he asked, annoyed, and then tightened his grip before you could start up again. You whined at the burn, a gasping, foreign sound, and Levi went still above you, finally taking stock of what he was doing.

He was above you, weighing you down with his larger mass, pinning your hips with his. One of his legs had tangled around your own, preventing you from getting leverage to buck him off. The other knee was bent to pin the hand that had been ripping his hair out. Your lower halves were flush together. His breath wheezed out of him at the realization. He was so close his shirt brushed against you with every inhale, and every exhale stirred the baby hairs framing your face that weren't slicked down with sweat. One of his hands was wrapped around your wrist, long fingers holding you hostage and pressing you into the rooftop. The other was tangled tightly in your hair. At the realization of how rough his hold was, his fingers loosened somewhat from their death grip, now cradling the back of your head instead. Your chest was heaving, your lips parted, and your face flushed. And your eyes...

He hadn't actually looked at you in a while. He could admit that. Something about the sight unsettled him now, took him back to that moment when he realized that the woman on the other end of his knife was you, the woman who had stared down the barrel of a gun was you. Beautiful, steadfast, irreplaceable you. His couldn't look into your eyes without seeing that scar that bisected your brow, coming so close to blinding you, without thinking of how you could have ended up like Jakobs, slumped into a wall with your insides spilling out. Now, looking at you felt like all the terror he should have felt in those moments, but didn't because he didn't realize what he was in danger of losing.

And now, looking into your wide eyes, staring up at him in frustration, he realized he had done something inexplicably cruel to you these past few days.

Livewire, Kenny had called you, wildcat. But here Levi was, trying to pin you down, trying to make you, someone who had always freely followed him, submit to his will by shaking you around. Walls...

You looked fucking furious.

More than that, you looked fragile like he hadn't seen since your mom died, when you were being shaken around by a pimp. Even when his mom had passed, you had remained carefully in control of all your emotions after you got back with the medicine. You looked like you may fall apart if he did the wrong thing. He was frozen with the knowledge, for once unsure of what path to take. His hold on you slackened further... just enough.

You grit your teeth and crashed your forehead into his chin.

In the aftermath of your sudden attack, you wriggled free from him, standing on your own two feet. That, you knew, had surprised him. Your legs were shaky, aching from the exertion with the 3DMG already. Yet still, you were determined to win whatever pissing contest was happening on this roof. He may be stronger than you now, but there was a time you had to save him from the assholes down here, and he was a fool to have forgotten that. The first time he had looked at you since that meeting and it was like he had never even seen you before. Like he was staring at a wild animal, a stranger. Not his best friend, not the girl who had bartered stolen medicine for a house instead of the life she had intended it for, not the woman who had stayed by his side for years. And yeah, you got it, you'd known him long enough to understand how his mind worked. Nearly stabbing you had freaked him out a little, but for fucks sake, you'd been cut by him, not fucking killed. Kenny had done worse to you in training when you were a child.

"Whatever overprotective, controlling, bullshit is going on with you," you finally murmured, voice low and burning, dark eyes pinning him to the rooftop as you glowered down at him, "it stops right now."

He glanced up at you from where he was kneeling, mouth twisted in aggravation from your cheap shot, and went still. You were shaking with rage, standing there and staring him down like you didn't know him. You felt all of 9 and begging him to look at Miss when she was sick, all of 13 with your hands covered in another boys blood and Vic's entrails cooling in the dirt behind you, all of 19 and in another fight he started with some pervert leering after you. Where was the damn henning then?

"I don't know when you decided you could make decisions for me, but you're dead wrong Levi.” You continued, running a shaking hand through your hair in frustration, “You don't get to decide if I go on raids, or if I’m allowed to use the gear that I stole. The fact you've even been trying to is... it's insulting. I don't want to be bottle fed bits of information you think I need to know, like Furlan’s content with. I need the full fucking story from here on out. I need us to be a team again. No more secrets, or I swear I'll..." you trailed off, suddenly losing steam. Or you'll what? You didn't know. You didn't think you could ever leave him, realistically. Even what you had now, this hollow shell of what you used to be, was better than the thought of walking away from him for good.

He looked at you from where he knelt on the rooftop, eyes wider than you'd ever seen them as he took you in. You were practically glowing with anger, shoulders right and chest heaving. You were plotting on continuing your tirade until you saw the fight go out of him with his next breath, like a puppet with its strings snipped. His hand came up to curl around the back of your knee, his other grasping your fingers as he gazed up at you.

"Okay." he finally said, a small smile on his pretty mouth, "Okay, you win, crybaby."

That damn nickname. You huffed, rigid form loosening as you stamped your foot, "I'm not a crybaby Levi! I haven't cried in years," you whined, even as you used your interlocked hands to tug him to his feet. He grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulders to tug you in and ruffle your hair.

"Yeah, yeah, all you do is cry, brat. It's every damn day with you."

Still, he sounded so fond as he said it, and you finally felt that chasm that was hollowing out your chest begin to close. Levi, you thought, as you tucked your face into his shoulder to bite him, I missed this.

Isabel Magnolia crashed into your life like a boulder, and you wondered if this is how Kenny felt trying to keep up with you and Levi when he first found you. She left you feeling winded.

Probably not, you conceded, you and Isabel hadn't tried to stab each other yet, after all. Then again, you'd like to think you'd never done anything deserving of being stabbed in your life, unlike Kenny, the rat bastard.

The girl was cheerful and determined, and her energy levels were through the fucking roof. You could barely keep up with her most days, tiring out early more often than not. Levi and Furlan adored her, almost as much as you did. Your little trio easily became a quartet, and you let her use your gear to learn how to fly, coaching her from below as she tested out her new wings.

She was quick to smile, quick to laugh. She called Levi bro, called you sis. Your heart felt full to bursting in a way that it hadn't since Kur and Ponye left to expand your little crime syndicate on the other end of the underground. Leave it to Isabels raucous personality to fill the hole left by two people.

"We're like a family," she said one evening, "Especially with how you and Levi bicker like you're married."

You had choked on a laugh, coughing harshly into your hand. "Walls, Iz," you chastised, coughing harder now, "warn a girl before you say something crazy like that."

Levi, from where he was sharpening your blade in the corner, watched you with dark eyes as you got your fit under control.

"What would that make Furlan then?" you mused, voice rougher now, and Isabel laughed, delighted.

"Well, he's probably the family pet!"

Never needing an excuse for a brawl, Furlan hollered in outrage from where he was counting money on the table. He threw himself at Isabel and jabbed her sides with agile fingers until she was crying from laughter. You smiled fondly at the familiar sight; your little house far fuller than it had ever felt. Levi nudged your shoulder, steaming cup in hand. "Here," he offered, "for your throat."

You smiled up at him, something warm and soft curling in your chest as you took the tea from him. Must've already had the kettle going. "Glad I robbed that fancy vendor for us now, aren'tcha?" you teased softly, and he huffed, ruffling your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa, knees spreading until your thighs were flush. His arm dropped around your neck once he was done messing up your hair, and he looked at you warmly.

"You make it easy to justify keeping you around, I'll give you that."

You laughed, sipping your tea and leaning into his chest as you watched Isabel and Furlan roll around on the rug like animals, swinging playful punches at each other. This is perfect, you thought, smiling at your friends while curled into Levi's body, his heat warming you through, "I want us to always be like this," you murmured, a secret wish for only him to hear, "I want to be together, forever. It's so... warm."

Levi hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your ribs, and any tension left in you dissipated. You were so tired... this would be as good a time as any to rest, you decided. So, you finished your tea swiftly, setting your cup down before curling deeper into Levi and closing your eyes. As you drifted off, you felt his arm wrap tighter around you. Something warm pressed briefly to your forehead, and you felt incredibly, unfathomably safe.

But for all your happiness in that moment, you still lived in the underground. It was not a place for wishing. You never should have let yourself forget that.

[jearmincentral]

The thought of Armin meeting Jean through a social media app because he kept asking Jean for art commissions is so cute to me! Anytime Jean would draw a favorite character, Armin would post it and say “no one draws my fav. like him! love him!” and Jean is always like “love you too!” but deep down inside they also really do love each other and enjoy each others company and time together even if it is long distance.