#uhhh five days ago

[rosemaryreaper]

Dig Seven Graves: A Recon Squad Gladius Fic

Hello, hello, hello! Spontaneously continuing the tradition of posting a new Fallout fic every September, I have a little something for the Gladius fans out there. The first two chapters are out now. I'll aim to post the remaining five over the next few days.

Summary: “When you get to the Commonwealth, dig seven graves. It will only get more difficult later, once the frost sets in.” Proctor Quinlan’s advice was well-intentioned, if morbid. It was fortunate, then, that Haylen’s squad didn’t have to dig their first grave until spring. Here are the five graves Recon Squad Gladius dug—and the two they never got the chance to.

AO3 fic link: Dig Seven Graves

Full Chapter 1 below the cut (800 words)

Note: rated M for heavy themes (gore, death)

* * * *

Chapter 1: BR-122K [Deceased]

“Start recording.”

Start treatment. 

“September 30, 2286.”

Time: 10:48. 

“We’ll keep this informal, Knight Brach. It’s just a conversation between you and me.”

He grinned at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “And the Scrolls.”

“And the Scrolls,” she agreed, amused. 

“For posterity and sanity, eh, Doc? You get to poke around in my head a little, and all future scribes get to dissect my every word. Sounds like a win for everyone.”

“Making history does come with extra homework.” She clicked her pen twice. An unavoidable habit. “On that note, how are you feeling? We set out pretty early tomorrow.”

“Couldn’t be better, Haylen. Couldn’t be better.” He was screaming. A bloody, charred, screaming lump of meat. “It’s been years since I’ve gotten the chance to stretch my legs.” 

“Now you get to stretch them for five hundred miles.”

“I’ve always enjoyed long walks.”

Begin assessment. Catastrophic trauma to left and right legs, severe trauma to… Catastrophic? Gone. His legs were gone.

She chuckled as she ticked a checkbox in her notebook. She was hardly worried about Brach’s sanity. It was questionable, but only in the way any member of the Brotherhood who had surpassed sixty had a right to. At that age, it was practically expected for a knight to not give a damn about appearances. 

She balanced the tip of her pen under the next question on the page. “What made you request to join Recon Squad Gladius?”

“It’s an opportunity I couldn’t miss.”

Catastrophic trauma to left and right legs—jagged bone and shredded flesh below the remnants of his knees. Severe trauma to torso and left arm—elbow barely attached. Major trauma to right arm and chest—embedded shrapnel, twisted and sharp. 

He reclined in his chair. “Now, this may come as a shock, but I’m getting old. My children are all initiates, trailing after their own knights and scribes. My wife has her hands full with her research in the lab. Their paths are set. And mine?”

Rapid response triage: cauterize open wounds to stop bleeding, administer Stimpaks to further stimulate wound closure. Don’t think about the smell. 

“Sure, I could patrol the Capital Wasteland until I take a bullet to the knee and they stick me behind a desk in the Citadel for the rest of my days…”

Blood pooling on the pavement—administer another Stimpak. Administer another two, three, four…

“…or I could make the best of these remaining years in my prime. See new sights, try new food, get chased by new horrors, all the fun things.”

“One last grand adventure,” she said.

“One last grand adventure.”

It was quiet. When had the screaming stopped?

“I like that we’re doing this for posterity,” he said. “I want to bring home some good stories to my children, you know? Give them something to look up to.”

Having a family in the Brotherhood was not unheard of, especially for the members who had been born into it. As long as no fraternization with outsiders was involved, any “activities” that increased recruitment were welcome. What was unusual, though, was Brach’s attention to his family. Parents were expected to take a step back once their squires were accepted into training, but he never had. This familial dedication was half the reason he had never made officer in all his years of service. Seeing as Brach was Brach, he couldn’t care less about a missed promotion. He was too good a soldier for anyone to attempt to convince him otherwise. 

“I think that’s admirable in itself,” she said. “There’s a bright future for the Brotherhood if any of them turn out like you.” No breath on her cheek.

“You flatter me, Haylen. I could say the same of you. We’re all lucky to have you on the team.” No pulse beneath her fingers. 

“I hope I’m of use.” Damage unrecoverable.

“Please, my wife is a scribe. You can’t trust knuckleheaded knights like me to keep a squad in one piece. I know I’m in good hands.”

“Leave him!” Danse ordered. “We’ll retrieve the body later.”

She smiled, as if she didn’t feel her chest tighten. Just a little. Clicking her pen twice, she glanced at her notebook. There were plenty more questions, but they were supposed to keep this brief. “Any closing remarks before I bring in the next knucklehead?”

He raised his arm, wrist loose, like an actor giving a speech from a stage. Like a picture of one, anyway. “Let’s go make history. Ad perpetuam memoriam! How’s that?”

Time of death: 10:51. Approximately 3 minutes after incident.

“Perfect, Brach. Absolutely perfect. Thank you. We’ll end the recording there.”

Rhys and Keane dug the first grave along the outer wall of the station. They would send his holotags back to his family—if their rescue ever came.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

we let the ocean drown out our voices/enjoying the bitterness/in the chaotic light, I close my eyes and see

[lunar-mantis]

FNAF THEORY!!

the reason the child who possessed golden Freddy is so vengeful is because they got stuffed in some boring old random suit from the back room while all the other kids got to become the cast of Freddy fazbears pizza. like imagine being some 7 year old and you get murdered and then you become some rando dusty bear instead of foxy or something, I'd be pissed enough to put that fucker in hell too.

[artistfingers]

in my brother’s old car, i’m 20. it’s filled with camping gear and the detritus of friends I don’t know and the girl he’s going to marry.

here, i’m 16. i’m tacking art up on the walls just to tear it back down. i’m picking up a girl from her house thinking, it’s almost like a date until we’re both crying on the floor of the bookstore.

here, i’m 23. learning to admire sunsets over sandy mountains. the air cools, minutely, and i breathe it in.

here, i’m 18. on the first highways I learned, wide and flat. aching. singing until my throat scratches out and the words twist to nothing.

and north. there’s a cat with a bell and bushes with wild berries and smoke hazing the hills to illegibility—

there, i’m almost 26 and aching still

[mixed-messages]

Chip and Dip

Lando Norris x snowboarder!reader

Author’s Note: In honor of where I live getting around 11 inches (28 cm) of snow over two days, here’s a little social media au about an Olympic snowboarder, who also happens to be sponsored by Monster Energy. Just like Lando. None of these IG stories are real. I made them with my need for detail

I haven’t done an smau in so long, so please bear with me and the fact it doesn’t really have a plot

General Notes: no use of yn, a nickname is used instead. no faceclaim, but there’s some skin showing in a few images! swearing, she/her pronouns used, yc is your country but you can pretend it’s just a snowboarding team or smth!

Liked by mclaren, lando, chipnflip, and 567,832 others

monsterenergy Two of our favorite snowboarders will be heading out with a few other Monster Energy athletes for a snowy getaway. Stay tuned for clips, tricks, and videos

Tagged: chloekim, chipnflip

user02 stfuuuuuuu omg omg who are the other athletes???

user78 CHIP AND CHLOE MY FAVE DUO 👹

user34 wait can someone please explain why she goes by chip???

↳ chipfan omg it’s so stupid (affectionately). years ago she was a guest on a youtube channel (forget which one) and she tried to do a trick and fucking ATE it (not the good ate) and chipped her front tooth. everyone just calls her chip now

↳ user04 it was that one trickshot channel

chipnflip let’s get ittttt 🏂 Liked by author

chloekim So excited! We’ll have to teach these skiers how to snowboard 🥱 Liked by author

user18 I SEE MCLAREN LIKED. PLSSSSS TELL ME LANDOSCAR WILL BE THERE

↳ monsterenergy we can neither confirm nor deny 👀

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Liked by mclaren, chipnflip, oscarpiastri, and 1.3m others

lando the boys on the slopes

Tagged: oscarpiastri, patriciooward, nolansiegel, monsterenergy

user167 PATO IS THERE TOO? IM GONNA COMBUST

user16 is it just mclaren and the two snowboarders?? 🏃🏻‍♀️

↳ monsterenergy We can assure you there are more than just the five of them! There are ten in total!

user74 Not them becoming a clique 😭

user55 have they taught you guys snowboarding yet???

↳ chipnflip I fear we haven’t been able to teach them yet! We wanted to get to know each other first! Hopefully tomorrow 🤞

↳ lando @.chipnflip If it’s like anything today, I’m worried I’m gonna become scared of the snow

↳ user67 LANDO WHAT HAPPENED TODAY?

↳ lando @.user67 snowballs to the face 😔💔

user178 so you’re telling me 10 athletes had a snowball fight and no one posted about it???

↳ chipnflip I gotchu!

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Liked by nolansiegel, patriciooward, lando, and 678,438 others

chipnflip The snowball fight that occurred between 10 professional athletes last night. To our managers, no one got injured 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Tagged: lando, chloekim, patriciooward, and 6 others

lando Speak for yourself 👎🏻👎🏻

↳ chipnflip dude, be so for real, it wasn’t even packing snow. it was as light as a feather

↳ lando MATE YOU LIFT

user137 LANDO GETTING HIT IN THE FACE JQICNDOW BYEEE

oscarpiastri As Lando’s teammate, I must say, I do believe there was a small piece of ice in one of the snowballs

↳ chipnflip Ope— uhhh I was unaware of that one

ycnowboarding We’d like to formally apologize to McLaren for any harm our athlete may have caused to your very expensive driver

↳ mclaren we accept the apology. Liked by author

↳ lando says WHO?

user33 not her bullying Lando 2 days after they met 😭😭

↳ user77 and him clapping back 🏃🏼‍♀️

user88 OFFICIAL YC SNOWBOARDING ACCOUNT APOLOGIZING IS SENDING ME

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12,458 likes

f1gossipupdates Some of Chip’s recent IG stories! There are lots of theories after Monster Energy uploaded a video of the winter getaway/vacation. While other athletes were being interviewed and Chip or Lando could be seen in the background, the other was always close behind. Leading some fans to suggest that there might be something going on between the two of them.

user009 omg can’t two people just be friends?? even if they’re more than friends should we even care??

hater17 i get a weird vibe from her. idk. i dont like her

↳ hater62 no bc i totally agree. there’s something about her that bugs me and i can’t put my finger on it. i hope she doesn’t take advantage of lando 💔

↳ user72 “take advantage of lando” 🥱 puhhh-lease you’re saying that like she’s not an incredibly successful athlete that has 3 Olympic gold medals and is as well known, if not more, than lando

user90 does anyone know why she rarely shows her face??? I wanna know what she looks like so badly

↳ user108 I mean… did you not watch the video monster put out?? Her face is clearly in that 😭😭

user779 chip and lando this, chip and lando that. but we should talk about the sibling-like banter between her and pato. they’re kind of iconic 💔😔

↳ user028 PLEASE. when Pato was “bullying” her and then she just… pushed him off his snowmobile??? 😭😭 and then Nolan and Chloe started to chant “fight, fight, fight” ???

hater59 she’s actually so annoying. she can’t stay away from any of them and it’s so cringe

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Liked by chipnflip, chloekim, maxverstappen, and 1.6m others

lando Truly an awesome experience! Huge thank you to @.monsterenergy for hosting this event, will forever remember it!

Tagged: chipnflip, oscarpiastri, chloekim, patriciooward, and 5 others

annika.overtomorrow It was great meeting everyone!! We’ll have to do something again! Liked by author.

↳ lando gotta get the gang back together sometime soon!

↳ user2 THE GANG. ARE THEY ALL BESTIES NOW??!!

user14 SEVENTH SLIDE. SEVENTH SLIDE

chloekim You weren’t a horrible snowboarder, I’ll give you that.

↳ lando You honor me greatly

user85 call me crazy, but is that chip in the seventh slide???

↳ user23 I was thinking the same thing but she doesn’t wear those types of goggles 💔💔

chipnflip Will forever laugh at your hair in pics 1 and 4 🫵🏻🤣

↳ lando You’re just jealous 🥱🥱

↳ chipnflip whatever helps you sleep at night!!

user65 Still obsessed with the fact Nolan casually pulled 10 McLaren lego sets out of his suitcase

↳ user17 No bc I cackled when that happened

↳ nolansiegel what can I say? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I come prepared

hater9 Praying seventh slide isn’t… her. Was literally hard for me to watch the videos they posted bc of how obnoxious I found her. like wtf even is that nickname???

↳ user56 that’s not very girls-girl of you like your bio says. Liked by author

↳ user56 LANDO?????

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Liked by lando, nolansiegel, maxfewtrell, and 578,491 others

chipnflip Was definitely a fun time! Met so many new people and was able to catch up with some longtime friends :,) My runs weren’t too bad either 🥱🥱

user92 max f in the likes????

↳ user10 RIGHHHHTTT???

chloekim she’s an icon, she’s a legend, and she is the moment 😍

↳ chipnflip i’m gonna kiss u

↳ lando @chipnflip eh? 🤨

↳ user6 lando 💀

patriciooward It was great meeting you! Even if you did kick me off of a snowmobile!

↳ chipnflip booooo 👎 you’re making me sound aggressive

↳ patriciooward @chipnflip Good!

↳ user65 helpppo i love their friendship

oscarpiastri Pretty sure Lily has been attempting to subtly ask to meet you

↳ chipnflip Oh my gosh that’s so sweet 😭😭 text me!!

lando bet i could do the trick on the second slide

↳ chipnflip omg I bet you could 🤩🤩 bet I could win a grand prix in less than 110 races

↳ lando @chipnflip low blow :(

hater8 gosh, she’s so fucking rude.

↳ user14 girl, I think she was joking Liked by author

↳ hater8 but how are we supposed to know that??

↳ user14 as long as lando knew it was a joke why does it matter???

↳ lando I knew it was a joke. I was sitting right next to her.

user54 hold. lando and chip. hanging out. together. alone???? 👀

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+ stories from lando and chip during the trip

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okay, so I’m thinking of doing a part 2, maybe with some writing. just because I think the ending to this as of now is a little bland and I want chip and lando to do the classic soft launch photos (I have some cute ones).

Please let me know if you’d like another part!

[afterglowsainz]

is it over now? | carlos sainz

pairing: singer!reader x carlos sainz

summary: you decide to release a breakup song on your ex boyfriend’s birthday, one year after the break up

fc: riley keough

warning: some grammatical errors in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix sorryyy

a/n: me??? writing a carlos fic??? the stars must’ve aligned

—

liked by ynupdates, f1wags and others

f1gossip it’s been officially one year since carlos sainz and y/n y/l/n broke up

view all comments

username it’s been a year already?? 🤯

username nooo don’t bring the memories back 😭

username i’m never getting over this breakup :( they were so meant for each other

username i have no perception of time why did i thought they broke up like a month ago?

username and not one single breakup song from y/n…

username no i’m waiting for the album

username we really are delusional huh

liked by landonorris, taylorswift and others

yourusername my favorite type of night 🖤🥁🎤

view all comments

username MOTHER

username best concert eveeeer

username and you know the one about releasing the album ???

username what a WOMAN ugh

username i don’t understand you carlos sainz

username how did he fumbled so hard 😭

username the aesthetic is everything

username so beautiful so gorgeous so ethereal

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip carlos sainz was spotted with a new date at the monte-carlo opens

view all comments

username uhhh ….

username i wish i could say “that quick?” but to be fair it’s been a year

username bestie weren’t you there after they broke up?

username he literally went on a date five minutes after they ended things 😭

username and he told you that personally?

username so it’s really over with y/n huh

username i mean … yeah!

username noooo lord please bring back the family as we know it (carlos and y/n)

username this is the worst type of news i could’ve got

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others

yourusername i hope you’re in the mood for new music … because my new single “is it over now?” drops today at midnight 🕊 thank you to my amazing girlfriends for writing this song with me and having the most fun at the studio

view all comments

username now that’s what i’m talking about

username new music at last omg i could cry

username okay but THAT COAT !!!!

username i need her whole wardrobe actually

username girl not on you ex’s BIRTHDAY 🤣

username dare i say … carlos song?

username crossing my fingers

username ohhh she knew what she was doing with this release date

username not only during carlos’s birthday but also right after he was seen on a date with a new girl

username i aspire to be THIS level of petty one day

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and others

carlossainz55 really great weekend! thanks for the birthday wishes❤️

view all comments

username pookie how are we feeling after y/n’s song?

charles_leclerc happy birthday! wanna get three thousand takeout coffees? (liked by carlossainz55)

username i didn’t wanna get mad cause it’s his birthday but like …. i’m gonna need you to pay for your crimes mate

username no cause the song was crazyyyy

username “you search in every model’s bed for something greater” ma’am ???

username it was the “your new girl is my clone” for me

username “if she’s got blue eyes i will surmise that you’ll probably date her” ….

username carlos just answer the question

liked by reyesvdec, fernandoalo_official and others

yourusername forever in love with this city <3

view all comments

username MADRID 🤍

username my city my city !!!

username reyes liking this 🥹

username that’s her girl fr!

username sooo excited for tonight’s concert

username ahhh can’t wait to see her

username if she sings is it over now? tonight i might actually faint

username imagine her singing this at the city of the guy she wrote it for 😭

username poetic

liked by f1gossip, f1wags and others

ynupdates carlos sainz was in attendance at y/n’s concert tonight in madrid

view all comments

username say again?

username he has two moods only: happy and confused

username what the hell is he doing there 😭😭

username does this means what i think it means ???

username ahhh the second picture is mine! it was so random to see him there haha

username girl if you don’t start talking right now !!!

username was he with his new girlfriend?

username nooo he was with his family only

username you really can’t make this up 😭

username he listened to that song and was ready to risk it all

username who wouldn’t!

liked by carlossainz55, georgerusell63 and others

yourusername one of my favorite cities with one of my favorite crowds 🇪🇸 madrid you never disappoint 🤍

view all comments

username y/n if you’re trying to make me fall in love with you it’s working

username name a more iconic concert quick!

username literally the gold dust woman

username THE OUTFITS THE SETLIST THE LOOKS UGHHH

carmenmmundt 🤍🤍🤍 (liked by yourusername)

username forever obsessed with her aesthetic

username not to start anything but carlos liking this… 👀

username i meaaan the guy was at the concert …

username this night will go down in history

liked by f1wags, ynupdates and others

f1gossip carlos sainz and ex girlfriend y/n y/l/n have been seen together recently in numerous occasions

view all comments

username of course they are going on dates OF COURSE THEY ARE

username and all it took was one year and a single song from y/n

username no bc i’m sure if she released that a year ago they would’ve been together by now

username so it was NOT over gotcha

username are we witnessing the comeback of y/n and carlos in real time?

username god i never ask you much but i’m asking you this one thing

username when ynupdates likes this so you know it’s serious

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and others

carlossainz55 some people have asked me recently if it’s over now? the answer is of course not 😊

view all comments

username “some people” you mean your literal ex-girlfriend ???

username GIRLFRIEND NOW ***

username i can’t with the 😊 he thinks he’s so funny

username idk why they broke up in the first place but if all it took for them to get back together was y/n releasing a song and carlos going to her concert let me tell you …

username i think what really did it for him was the fact that she released it on his birthday 😭

username they’re just obsessed with each other i guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

yourusername oh i knew it wasn’t! just wanted to know what you thought 😁

carlossainz55 i love you let’s never do that again ❤️

username she’s so real 😭😭

username MY PARENTS BACK TOGETHER AT LAST💖

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Hello! It's always nice to see new people! I hope you like it here. Imo tumblr is the best site for fandom stuff just due to its structure, you should be able to easily find very old art, fanfic, discussions etc archived in different blogs as you go in 4am rabbit holes looking for old art of some obscure AU from 2021. The general "socially acceptable tumblr behavior", at least in the Amphibia fandom, seems to be very simple like... just be nice and non-judgmental. There are no ship wars here either, we all love our toxic and problematic polycule. People here can sometimes be kinda edgy too so don't be surprised to find some random marcy gore or whump here and there. Then the general tumblr rules of any fandom like... blacklist the content/ships/etc you don't wanna see instead of harrassing the people enjoying them (you can blacklist tags and keywords in the settings tab), so for example, you may not like seeing whump, which is common in the Amphibia fandom, so you can blacklist "whump" and tags associated with it such as "gore" "blood" or "marcy harm". Of course don't repost art (repost =/= reblog, reblogging art directly links back to the artist and it's how people get noticed here, since tumblr basically has no algorythm and you mostly just see what the people you follow post and reblog. Reposting means saving a picture on your phone and posting it to your blog. I clarify because a lot of people get it wrong). The people you reblog from can see the commentary and tags you add to a post so be mindful of that.

One more thing, reblogging is the site's lifeblood, especially when it comes to fanart, because without a proper algorythm, likes do nothing to share it with other people, so if you see something you like, reblog it! So more people can see it.

As for finding Amphibia stuff, checking out the Amphibia tag and tags related to it (i.e "sashannarcy", "Anne Boonchuy", "Marcy harm" and my favorites, "amphibia meta", "amphibia worldbuilding", "amphibia lore" etc) would be a good place to start! Then just start following people, make posts of your own etc etc. There are some blogs that almost function like an archive, the first one that comes to mind being @3-stones-deity! I reblog a lot of old art as well. Blogs here are all organized with tags so just check out the different tags blogs use to find stuff. For example, I save some of my favorite character and worldbuilding analyses in my tag "required reading for fanfic writing".

And if you wanna "jokingly threaten" someone... idk I suggest using tone markers like /jk (just kidding) /s (sarcasm) /hj (half-joking) etc. Idk about most people but personally I wouldn't be comfortable talking like that with someone I don't know and that seems to be a common sentiment here but I guess it depends on the person.

It's nice to have you! Have fun!

hey so i’m new to tumblr so uh..

i’m joining because america’s banning tiktok and i’ll lose basically all my amphibia content, and i’m like DEATHLY obsessed so i would like some help if you guys don’t mind 😭😭

i have no idea how this place works, so if you guys don’t mind helping me figure it out, it’d be really helpful :1

i have some questions:

what kinds of manners should i use?

is it socially acceptable for me to say some random it of pocket stuff or will i be threatened?

are there any social rules here i should know?

and how do i find as much amphibia stuff as humanely possible

am i allowed to jokingly threaten people, and if so, how do i do it? with meaning tags, or no?

thanj you and goodbye

[oakdwn]

in honor of my favorite dr who episode coming out five years ago, i’d like to talk about what i think is an INSANE line in the timeless children:

“look upon my work, doctor, and despair.”

for those of you who don’t know, the master is quoting the poem ‘ozymandias’ by percy bysshe shelley and it discusses a loss of power, memory and ego (which, hey, sound familiar? the timeless child making gallifrey immortal with no memory of it? the master putting her on the pedastal of a god?)

so first and this one’s just for fun, it’s interesting to me that the master quotes a human poem. it fascinates me that someone like him, who claims to hate humanity, quotes them to the doctor because he hates himself more and keeps hiding behind disguises even when hes about to show her the truth about the timeless child. spymasters incarnation is defined by hiding behind disguises and mockeries because he can’t handle things head on and i think this is a beautiful example of it.

secondly, i want to discuss the power imbalance he forces on these lines:

ozymandias is written with three characters: the narrator, the stone of the ruler, and the travelled who told the narrator the story. the stone sets the imbalance of power, declairing the most important part of the poem. “look upon my works, ye mighty and despair!” where he declares that he is the most powerful and that all should bow down to him. that’s the illusion the master is trying to give when reciting this line EXCEPT the wording changes.

the master replaces ‘ye mighty’ with ‘doctor’ giving the doctor equal footing. she is the mighty that gets to witness it. she is not the narrator, isolated in experience. she is not the person telling the story, who was looked down upon, and she is not the stone. she is her own entire character percieving his glory: and by doing that, he gives her just a little more power than he should. he elevates her to his level despite being his ‘victim’

and then the contents of the poem itself. the line directly after it is “nothing beside remains” which is not only a nod to the destruction of gallifrey and kind of foreshadows the masters true plan of taking the doctor there, but also a nod to the master’s role in that destruction. he sets himself up for failure by equating himself with the statue/stone of the poem because it is a statue that stands only of Failure. it is the only piece that shows that “king” had once been, and shows that all his plans of greatness were futile. he sets himself up for failure. by giving the doctor a character thats not in the poem, she escapes gallifrey unscathed. by making himself the stone, he dooms his plan to fail where neither he or the doctor end up dead at the end. nothing beside remains.

uhhh idk how to end this chibnall prose WAS in fact that elegant and i love spydoc and this poem. happy timeless children day !!

[strawberrymitsuriii]

Rules

The mountains have many rules. But out of all of them, five are the most important.

Mitsuri x fem Reader x Obanai

Words: 5.3k

Tw: Dark content, yandere monsters, monster fucking?, dubcon, squirting, fingering, smut, submissive obanai! Kinda don ish mitsuri?, uhhh also shitty smut kinda.

The mountains have many rules.

Of course, to keep the locals and tourists safe when living/visiting here. You remember when you and your parents first visited your grandparents up here in the mountains. Your grandparents made sure your parents told you beforehand about all the rules you had to follow for your stay.

Rule number one: Don’t be/go outside after the sun sets. That’s when they come out.

Rule number two: Don’t whistle once it’s dark. It attracts them.

Rule number three: You don’t see/hear anything. You ignore it and go on about your day.

Rule number four: Always keep your doors and windows locked. Don't let them in, even if they are outside begging to be let in. Don’t. They aren’t what they seem.

And the last and most important rule

Rule number five: If you hear your name being called. Don’t. Respond. Back. It’s not who you think it might be. Ignore it and don’t entertain it. If you want to see the light of day again.

Easy five rules to follow, right?

You always made sure to follow those five simple rules. Growing scared from all the stories the locals will tell little 6 year old you. Your parents also told you to be careful. That yes the woods are pretty, but they aren’t safe.

You haven’t seen your grandparents since you were 16. It’s been a long 8 years since then. You and your parents stopped visiting them after work has been catching up to them and you being busy with school. Of course you did call in occasionally and asked how they were doing and if they have been keeping themselves safe and healthy. Not wanting to grow distant with them since you love your grandparents very much.

But after a while, the calls slowly stopped coming in. Life is getting too busy for you and your parents.

It wasn't until a week ago when your aunt called and dropped the horrible news.

Your grandparents have passed away

You remember the feeling of time stopping right then and there. The cries of your mother going muffled as you just stood there.

The funeral wasn’t any better. Everyone was crying and screaming in agony. Your father was next to your weeping mother trying to comfort her as she cried for her parents. You couldn’t do anything but just stand there. Feeling useless.

The moment you got home you quickly ran to your room. That’s when finally all the tears and pain came out. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

-

Your grandparents left the house to you. Their only granddaughter. Before they died, it was already planned out the day you were born that if anything were to happen to them or if they would die. The house will belong to you.

And the house

Oh the house is beautiful

Think about those beautiful old Victorian homes from the 1800s. That’s the beautiful home your grandparents left for you.

And they knew you loved the area. Besides all the rules and weird things that roam the place. You loved it.

So here you are. In front of the house. With your parents standing behind you.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? We can stay here with you for a few days”

“I’m going to be okay mom. Don’t worry about me”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes dad. I’m 24 years old, I’m pretty sure I can handle myself just fine” You could tell that didn’t help at all and maybe made it a little more ... .worse?

“Okay….make sure you keep the doors and windows locked! A-a-and to not let anyone in okay?!”

“And no staying outside after the sun sets! You never-“

“Never know what can be lurking in those woods yeah yeah I got it” Your mom sighs before she gives you a kiss on your forehead.

“Okay. Stay safe and take care. Me and your father will check in on you in a few weeks, Kay?”

“Mhm”

After 10 long minutes, they left with a goodbye and now you were left alone. You noticed that the sun will begin to set soon so you called it a day and quickly rushed inside.

The house still looked the same. Same wallpaper and furniture. Your grandparents wanted all their old furniture that they bought/collected over the years to stay with the house. To stay with you.

And you didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, you're grateful they left you with all their old furniture. In this economy, a couch will probably cost the same as your rent-.

Literally

You head back upstairs and decide to buy groceries tomorrow morning.

-

“So, how is it so far?” Your friend eagerly asks.

“It’s not bad. Peaceful actually”

“Mm is that so? Those mountains give me the creeps!” You chuckle as you continue making your breakfast.

“Yeah trust me, I was afraid when I first visited this place. But as long as you follow the rules, your pretty much safe”

“Jeez, don’t know how you do it”

Today you already have a little something planned out for the day. For example, after breakfast you’ll go to the local market for groceries. After that you’ll go visit some old spots that your grandparents used to take you to during your summers and after that you’ll be home!

Simple small plans

“Yeah well for starters, I basically grew up here. And my grandparents were very overprotective of me when I would visit here”

“Well then maybe I should go up there and visit you! You’ll protect me from those things right?” You giggle as you answer her question.

“Of course I will”

“Good. Well I’ll talk to you later! I have a shit ton of stuff to do today” She sighs and you can tell she’s slumped over her kitchen counter right now.

“Well I’ll let you go now. But you better come visit once you're free!”

“You bet I am!” You said your goodbyes before hanging up.

The weather was perfect today for the small things you planned out. You made your plate and sat down at the nice dining table. You scrolled through your phone bored out of your mind as you ate the food you made.

You scrolled through pictures and videos of family, friends, or even random people before coming across an article from the town’s official account.

Two teenagers were found mutilated in the woods today earlier this morning. The two teens were reported missing on September 3rd at 9:46 pm by their parents after the teens failed to arrive home on time.

The teens were found today on September 16 at 7:23 am, two weeks after their disappearance. Local sheriffs said that they received a call from a tourist who had the misfortune to stumble upon the dead bodies of the two teens.

“Jesus” You mutter as you frown.

You always knew stuff like this happens. People not taking the rules seriously and being outside way past curfew and BOOM. Next day found dead.

You won’t lie, but you still get chills knowing that you aren’t the only one’s living here. The creatures that lurk in these mountains aren’t friendly to anyone.

Not even animals are safe as you remember stumbling upon multiple dead corpses of the unfortunate growing up.

Those things are vicious, vile creatures with zero mercy.

The words your grandmother used to tell you before reading you a bedtime story.

And she’s right. Those things show no mercy.

To those unfortunate souls that stumble upon those creatures. May they rest in eternal peace.

-

It’s been a couple weeks since you officially moved in. Life is peaceful living here. And you finally adjusted to life here!

Anyways, you were currently watching some of your favorite movies from childhood while you snacked on a bag of your favorite chips. Your parents left an hour ago after they came to check up on you. You three spent good quality time together before they had to leave for the long drive home.

You never knew living in a quiet area would be great. No more honking of cars or the screaming of people outside!

Just peace and quiet

You quietly munch on your chips as you continue watching the movie. Unaware of the eyes that were currently watching you.

No

It wasn’t in front of your window

It was behind the trees from outside

You continue eating before you frown as you hear a small click.

You ignored it at first, but then you heard the sound of a nail tapping against your window.

That’s when you completely froze

NOPE!

You quickly turned off the tv before grabbing your chips and phone and booking it upstairs to your room.

You locked your bedroom door and checked to see if your window was locked. Once you made sure everything was locked you quickly got into bed and left your chips on your night stand.

Definitely not tonight

You soon fell asleep all the while ignoring the strange noises coming from outside in the pitch dark woods.

1/5

-

People have said that the land was hunted. Curse from the Gods after humans yet again began to be greedy and cruel.

Others have said that the creatures that lurk are aliens or other creatures from space. They mysteriously appeared here one day and decided to claim the land as their home.

And others have said that those things used to be people. People who deceived the Gods and as punishment were turned into disgusting vile creatures who now live here in the mountains.

Anyways, there were a lot of rumors surrounding this place and how it came to be.

But even after all that. The land and mountains are beautiful. The most breathtaking place you can ever step foot in.

But people tend to forget about that when the stories and sightings of those creatures go around and get more attention than the beautiful small town itself.

Besides, the history of this town truly is a mystery

-

“Shit” your eyes kept going back and forth to the watch on your wrist and to the road.

Today you drove out to the city to meet up with your friends to go eat at a very popular restaurant after not seeing each other in a while. After eating, one of your friends suggested hitting up a local bar to just chill and have fun. Obviously you all agreed and went.

But unfortunately for you, you didn’t keep track of time and by the time you noticed, it was starting to get pretty late.

“Shit shit shit!” You were a little buzzed from the few drinks you took while at the bar but that didn’t really matter right now as your number one priority was to get home before the sun fully sets, which is already too late.

You kept your eyes on the road. Not taking your eyes off of it as you finally accepted defeat.

You broke one of the rules

You just hoped by the time you get home you don’t get mutilated at your front door step.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your house comes into view. You quickly parked and turned off the car and sat there for a moment.

It was quiet

You quickly snatch your keys out of your purse and look around for anything. Your eyes then turn to look at your front door and you take a deep breath. Keys ready in hand, you quickly got out of the car and ran to your door. You opened the door and quickly rushed inside before locking it.

You stood still for a moment. After what felt like forever you sighed in relief and decided that that will be the last time you’ll ever do that again.

No more rule breaking

You told yourself as you walked upstairs. Unaware of the glowing eyes peering outside your window.

2/5

Nothing bad or strange happened that night. You were relieved to wake up the next morning. You had a hard time getting some sleep after you broke one of the five rules. Thinking you wouldn’t see the light of day if you were to go to sleep.

But by some miracle you woke up fine

Which you were very grateful for after seeing more articles of bodies being found deep inside the woods. It’s been getting pretty dangerous lately as more news of dead bodies being found in those woods has become more frequent.

The townspeople were starting to get worried and scared to even step foot outside. Afraid their bodies will be found next.

When your parents found out about you breaking one of the rules, they were livid!

They scolded you for being so careless and not caring about your safety. It took a minute to calm them down but once you did your mom scolded you one last time before hanging up.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“C’mon y/n, you're seriously planning on still staying after more bodies are being found and not only that but you breaking one of the rules?! Girl you’re crazy” You chuckled and continued folding your clothes.

“Nothing bad happened after that night. Seriously, I'm fine”

“You’re fucking crazy”

“Am not” She sighs and you could tell she’s stressing.

“Just be careful okay? I don’t want you being found next”

“I promise I’ll be fine so quit worrying before you get a grey hair!”

“Oh fuck you!” You both laugh before saying your goodbyes and hanging up. You finish folding the last bit of clothes before letting out a loud sigh. You were tired after today’s event. You did some grocery shopping and some heavy chores.

And by heavy chores….you deep cleaned the whole house

So now you were straight up tired after running around all day. Before your ass could even hit the bed, you heard a loud knock coming from downstairs. You froze and waited to hear it again, thinking it was just your tired mind playing tricks on you.

Knock knock knock

You looked outside and saw that it was dark.

Who the hell could it be knocking at your door this late at night?

You made your way downstairs and the knocking on the door became louder.

“Hello?! Is anyone home?!”

Your heart dropped

It was a female voice

“Please! Our car broke down and we don’t know what to do! If anyone’s home can you please help us!?”

You stayed completely still

What the fuck do you do?!

You quietly make your way up the door and decide to take a small peek at the peephole.

There stood two figures. A women and a man.

The woman looked frightened as she kept looking over her shoulder and the man beside her kept caressing her back as if trying to calm her down.

They look human

You stepped back from the door

Should I open it? Should I help these people and let them in?

“Please, we can’t be outside at this hour so if anyone’s home please let us in” This time the man spoke up.

The knocking stopped after that. Only the sounds of the women’s cries can be heard.

“It’s no use! Obanai-San we’re gonna die!”

“No we’re not. C’mon, it’s best that we get back to the car and just stay there for the night”

“B-but what if those things get us on our way to the car?! No no no! Please whoever is in there let us in!”

“Mitsuri-“

You opened the door which caused the women to screech and hide behind the male. You pointed your gun at them and the man quickly covered the women with his body.

“What are you guys doing knocking at my door?!”

“We need help. Our car broke down not to far from here and we need a place to stay for the night” The man says as he looks at the gun and then back at you.

“And what makes you think I believe you? For all I know you guys can be one of those creatures!”

“If we were you would’ve been dead the moment you opened that door” He says.

“Please! We really do need help!” This time the woman behind him speaks up.

You looked at the two in front of you carefully. They look like they really need help and they also look human. The man is right, if they weren’t they would’ve killed you by now. You sigh before lowering your gun. This makes the two relax and you quickly motion them inside.

“You know it’s dangerous walking around here when it’s dark right?” You say. Eyeing the two suspiciously.

“Of course we know”

“Where were you guys headed?” You asked. Still skeptical about the two of them.

“We were going to go visit my parents! They live in the next town over but while on our way there our car broke down in the middle of the road!” The colorful hair women cried out. You raised a brow at her.

“Why did you guys decide to walk all the way over here? You could’ve just waited it out in your car”

“That was the original plan. But someone wanted to go ask for help” the man says as he looks at the woman next to him. She goes bright red before speaking up.

“I was scared! I heard multiple stories about this place!” You chuckle. The mountains and town are really popular with its supernatural stories after all.

“You guys can spend the night” The two sigh in relief. Thankful for your kindness.

“Thank you so much! You are so kind!” The woman blurted out as she smiled.

“Yeah….but by morning you guys have to be out”

“That won’t be a problem” The man says. You just nod and show them the way to one of the many guest bedrooms you have.

“Oh my goodness! How impolite of us to not introduce ourselves! My name is mitsuri!”

“This is obanai! Thank you once again!”

Okay she’s definitely not one of those creatures. You relaxed a bit and decided why not also introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

“Oh! Y/n you have such a very pretty name!” She says as she smiles.

“Ah, thank you. Your name is very pretty also!” The woman beams. Very happy to hear that.

“Well I’ll leave the two of you alone. Doors and windows are locked so there’s no need to worry about the monsters coming in!” You joke. They both nod. You leave to go back to your room for much needed rest after a long day. You sleep in utter peace. Not knowing that even with doors and windows locked. The monster still made their way inside your precious home.

3/5

The next day you woke up to the two strangers gone. The bedroom that they stayed in from the night before was left cleaned and untouched. Like they never used it.

“At least they made the bed”

You moved on after that. Weeks have passed and the strangers have become ... .Well strangers!

You just got home from work and you were slumped. It was late, yes but you managed to get home before the sun set. You were ready to just fall asleep in the sweat and dirt from today at work until you remembered that you recently washed your bedsheets and covers.

You were currently washing up and scrubbing away all the dead skin and dirt that has built up while also thinking about what you should make tomorrow for dinner.

Your parents are coming to visit tomorrow and are also staying for a few days so you wanted to make sure you have all the ingredients for tomorrow's dinner.

“Maybe I should make some pasta? Shrimp Alfredo? Or maybe some chicken curry? Orrr chicken quesadillas? Or maybe-“

You continue to ramble about all the possible foods you can make for tomorrow’s dinner.

Once you were done cleaning up, you made sure to quickly write down the dinner plans so you wouldn’t forget by tomorrow morning.

“Phewwww! Welp time for bed!” You made yourself comfortable before drifting off to blissful sleep.

Unaware of the small whistle that slipped out your mouth earlier in the shower.

4/5

You managed to wake up bright and early to get the things you needed to make tonight’s dinner. Your parents are coming in a few hours so you wanted to get the ingredients for dinner out of the way so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later.

You went to your local market to buy all the fresh vegetables and fruits first before going to another store to pick up some other stuff that you needed.

You were excited. It’s been some time since you saw your parents so you wanted everything to be perfect. After picking up the last few ingredients you drove home. You also needed to do some last minute cleaning before focusing on the dinner part.

Once you arrived home you saw something strange laying on your front porch.

“Weird…I don’t remember ordering anything” You parked your car before slowly getting out of the vehicle. The moment you got out a stench hit you straight in the face. You wanted to vomit and you quickly covered half of your face.

It was coming from your front porch

Slowly, you walked towards your porch to get a closer look at what was there and you noticed flies surrounding the thing that was there.

“Oh my God”

You took a step back when you noticed what was there.

It was a dead deer

The poor thing was….mutilated. There was a dead mutilated deer on your front porch.

You felt sick

Your stomach turned and you felt like vomiting right then and there.

“So you found a dead deer on your front porch?”

“Yes”

“And nothing else? Dear are you okay?!”

“Mhm yes mom I’m fine” You called your parents immediately after seeing the dead animal in front of your house. The moment your parents heard, they immediately got in the car and started making their way to you a little earlier than what was planned.

“Go inside the house from the back door. Don’t touch anything and keep the doors locked. Stuff like this is usually a threat from those things, we’ll be there in 2 hours if traffic isn’t bad, but just stay inside okay?”

“Yes dad”

“Everythings going to be fine sweetheart, so don’t stress, okay?”

“Yes mom I’m already inside so don’t worry”

“Okay, we’ll be there soon”

And the call ended

Luckily you brought the grocery bags inside the house so you decided to start making dinner a little earlier than expected to get your mind off the dead animal that is still currently laying on your front porch.

You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared. You were fucking terrified. When dead animals are left in front of someone’s house or backyard or land, 100% of the time that person is dead.

It’s a threat. Those things are threatening you and you don’t even know WHY.

You're trying to remember all the things you could’ve done to upset them - or it? You don’t know! You just can’t come up with anything that could explain why such a thing even happened!

You try to let it go and forget about it.

Maybe it’s a coincidence or…a mistake?

Maybe they got the wrong house, yeah?

You sigh and decide to just focus on dinner.

As you were washing some of the vegetables, you heard a faint click.

With the speed of light you turned off the water and stood completely still. You hear the faint sounds of tapping coming from the window of the living room.

Oh God

The sounds of nails dragging against the door is what you hear next. Long. Sharp. Nails.

You hear it before it stops. Then you hear the tap on the window again but now it’s coming from in front of you. You looked up at the window that is in front of your sink. You were lucky you have a small curtain covering the window because you know whatever is behind that window would’ve scared the ever living shit out of you.

You took a couple steps back before your back hit something. Immediately you froze.

You stayed still as whatever was behind you let out a low growl. You feel its long boney hands rest on your shoulders and you could physically feel your heart drop.

The thing then grips your shoulders and that was enough for you to pass out in fear.

Your head is pounding and you feel cold. You slowly opened your eyes and you saw that it was dark outside.

What

Was all that just a dream?

You tried to sit up but something cold stopped you from doing so. You looked up and saw that your wrists were tied. The cold breeze from the open window made you shiver.

Wait

Open window?!

You panicked and tried to sit up but you couldn’t. The chains on your wrist prevented you from moving let alone getting up. That’s when you also noticed that you weren’t fully clothed. Only your underwear was on and you felt scared.

What the fuck was happening?!

And then….you hear it again. The faint tapping sound of nails on the glass window. But this time you could tell it was coming from inside your room. You slowly turned your head to face the window of your bedroom.

There….you saw a tall slender figure.

But something about this…person? Seemed familiar.

The person….continued tapping its nail against the window and something about that gave you an eerie feeling.

Suddenly, it stops.

You hold your breath as its head slowly moves to look at you.

Your heart drops the moment you make eye contact with it.

“M-mitsuri?” You whisper.

You can’t believe the woman standing before you is the same woman you met a month ago.

She looks so different

She looks…taller and her face…her face doesn’t look human at all but it also does….does that even make sense?!

Her hair is loose and she seems to not be wearing any clothes. You quickly look away but the moment you do you look up to see obanai hovering over you while staring deeply into your soul.

He also looked different

But the thing that caught your attention the most was his mouth. You see the long cuts in the corner of his mouth. Giving him a snake-like appearance.

“You're awake” Her voice sounds different. Your heart starts to beat fast and you can feel tears already threatening to fall.

“W-why…w-what are you guys”

You closed your eyes. Not daring to look at either of them.

What the fuck are they doing in your house

“You're so pretty….you look so cute being underneath him” She says as she slowly starts caressing your hair. You whimper as you feel obanai beginning to nuzzle his face on your neck.

He was sniffing you

“Noo no no no please don’t kill me!” You cry out as you struggle against your chains. She just giggles before joining you two on the bed.

“We would never hurt you. Right obanai?” He just growls. You can feel his clawed hands beginning to fondle with your breast and you gulp the more you feel him press himself closer to you.

“No no no”

“Shhhh everything’s going to be fine….” You can feel her hand slowly start to make its way towards your private area. You cry as you feel her clawed finger rip your underwear before slowly playing with your clit.

“No! Please-“ You gasp when you feel the male's mouth on your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth and you shiver feeling his long tongue swirl around it.

Mitsuri continues playing with your clit and she giggles seeing you squirm underneath her touch.

Cute

She thinks

You gasp the moment you feel her fingers slip inside your hole. You gripped onto the chains and bit your lip as tears slid down your cheeks.

“No wait! N-not there!” She begins to thrust her fingers in and out your hole and all you could do is shut your eyes tight as you tried your best to not make any noise. Meanwhile, obanai was having the time of his life sucking harshly at your nipples. A lewd pop is heard as he finally leaves your poor nipple alone.

“More” he growls. You feel relieved when her fingers leave your poor cunt alone. But that was soon gone when you felt something poking you from down there. Your blood runs cold the moment you look down to see a monstrous cock.

Terrified, you squirm and shake your head knowing what was going to happen.

“No no no! Please! That’s not going to fit, please let me go!”

They don’t even pay you any mind as he grabs ahold of both of your thighs and spreads your legs open. They both coo at you and mitsuri begins to caress your face as she calms you down.

His tip pokes your entrance. You can tell he’s trying to hold himself back as mitsuri starts to also caress his face. He leans against her touch and waits for the green light.

“Be careful. Human women are much more delicate than us” He nods before he starts lining up his tip against your hole. You gasp as you feel him slowly push in.

You were ashamed of how wet you were.

You cry out at the burning sensation you feel. Your poor little cunt is being stretched open for crying out loud! You try scooting back. Not wanting him in. But that soon stops as he grabs your waist and slams you down fully on his length. You scream as you gripped onto the chains.

“There there! Look how perfect you're taking him! Oh I knew you were perfect for us!”

You could feel your face heat up at the lewd sounds of your cunt on his cock and the groans and moans leaving him.

“S-slow down!”

You can hear him whimper as he buries his face on your neck. And no, he doesn’t slow down. In fact, he quickened his pace and you could feel your legs start to shake.

“So beautiful!” Your face burns seeing her staring to play with herself. She fondles one of her breasts while looking at the two of you intensely.

Before you know it, you squirt all over his length. The man holds on to you tight as he cums deep inside you. You breathe heavy, your body tired and sensitive from what it has experienced. You couldn’t keep your eyes open even for a second from how tired you were.

“Shhh sleep now. Don’t worry we’ll take great care of you” You lean against her touch and the last thing you see before sleep takes over you is the chains being cut off before your carefully picked up from the bed.

Your parents arrive at last. Your father sees the dead animal still laying on your front porch and him and your mother both quickly make their way in from the back door.

“Y/n! We’re here!” Your mother shouts. But she was met with silence. Worried, your parents quickly run upstairs in search of you. Entering your room, they see that you aren’t in there and that’s when they both begin to panic.

They search the whole house from top to bottom but only to be met with nothing. You weren’t there.

A few hours later they filed a missing persons report and asked for a search party to help find you.

Unfortunately, upon seeing the dead Animal in front of your porch, the sheriff and people of the town broke the news to your parents about you falling victim to those monsters.

After all

The mountains have many rules. And you broke 5 of the most important ones.

-

[kyber-crystal]

red thread || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.

words: ~2.3k

warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)

a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm

It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep. 

It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes. 

“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”

“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”

“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”

“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”

“We’re making history day by day.”

“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”

“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”

“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”

“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”

“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good.”

“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”

“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”

“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”

“What about the second one?”

“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”

You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”

“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”

“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”

The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms. 

TWO YEARS LATER

As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything. 

“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”

“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours�� and Hangman’s birthday.”

“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”

“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”

“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”

“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it. 

You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you. 

“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you. 

Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself. 

“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that  argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him. 

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”

“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”

“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”

If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”

“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?” 

“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...

“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”

You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”

“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”

If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal. 

“...Thanks.”

“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”

“Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.” 

You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”

Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth. 

Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining. 

Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot. 

You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door. 

You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”

“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness. 

“Did you steal it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s his, isn’t it.”

“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”

“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”

“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.

The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road. 

“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”

“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.

You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit. 

“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”

“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”

Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”

“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”

“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”

“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”

Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”

The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.

tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Kyoya's reluctant day out!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Kyoya get's dragged out to the mall ➼ what to expect:  "'i'm so screwed' you whisper to yourself." ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Sixteen | Part Eighteen

""Hey Kyoya, I have just had the most brilliant idea!"

When Kyoya finally becomes aware he is very confused to find himself in what appears to be an outlet mall. "How did I wind up here? I was sleeping comfortably in my own bed just a few minutes ago...no, wait...Tamaki was carrying on about some sort of exhibit. He had his heart set on all of us going, I think."

"Doesn't it sound fascinating? They're called 'expos' that's commoner lingo for 'exposition' products from all over the world are gathered under one roof so that underprivilaged people can cope with the emptiness of not being able to travel. That makes this the perfect oppotunity to better understand Haruhi, by allowing the host club to study commoners in their natural environment. You guessed it Kyoya, we're going on a field trip! Haruhi won't be joining us today, incidentally, as her presence might harm our credibility as impartial observers"

Kyoya glared at him from the bed, not happy to be woken up at all. "Oh come on, you can't just lie here in bed all morning! Today's the last day of summer vacation!"

Kyoya groans and sits up in bed "For your information, I was up until 5am you morons, which if you hadn't notice, makes me less than happy about being woken up" The host club backed up, shivering "Kyo-chan isn't much of a morning person huh?" Asked honey.

"You have nor room to talk"

"Hey what does that mean?"

"Okay enough with the commoner shtick, if you formulaic halfwits feel like wasting all afternoon on worn out old cliches go right ahead and suit yourselves" he falls back against the bed, almost immediately falling back asleep.

"Well, if that's what you want...you heard the man! Now lets dress him to the nines and head for the expo!"

"Oh right, that's how...it looks like I'm at the Izumi shopping centre, which isn't exactly within walking distance of home. Guess I'll call to have a car sent out" Kyoya reaches into his pocket which is when he realised that he has no phone or wallet on him.

A small boy runs into him "Wow sorry....uhhh mama!" he runs off. "Tamaki's a dead man when I get my hands on him"

"Kyoya-senpai?"

"Huh?" Kyoya looks to his left to find you and Haruhi, both staring at him confused by his presence, clearly in the middle of shopping. "I didn't expect to see you here today" you raise an eyebrow, knowing that this really is not his scene.

"How much money do you two have on you?"

You and Haruhi exchange glances "What?"

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Kyoya's Reluctant day out!

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"Kyoya-senpai, are you sure this is where you want to eat?" You ask, confused and concerned that he may be ill since normally kyoya would never been seen in a place like the fast food joint you were all currently stood in.

"There are much nicer resturants to choose from upstairs"

"Well you two don't have much on you so our choices are limited, just be sure to get a reciept, tamaki will reimburse you tenfold" He muttered, Haruhi clearly not being incredibly thrilled.

"Let me guess, he dragged you out of bed to do something even though you were up till five am?" you ask, haruhi hums in question "You can't possibly know that-"

"Yes he did" Kyoya grumbles, haruhi turns to you in question "I knew he had a business call over seas" You shrug

"Haruhi I think it's our turn, how do i order?"

"Oh, uh, here, i'll order for us, do you know what you want?"

"You pick, just get lots of it"

"I'll just get a cheeseburger"

Haruhi nods, turning to the cashier "Well okay, that and that one, both with fries, and a cheeseburger please"

"Okay coming right up, would you be interested in adding one of our delicious desserts?"

"Thank you, no, I don't care for sweets"

"Before you decide we have this new shake thats absolutely-" "I have given you my answer"

you sigh, quietly apologising to the cashier as you take the food to a nearby table. "Kyoya-senpai just beacuase you're in a bad mood today doesn't give you the right to go around talking to people like that"

"Poor girl was just trying to do her job"

Kyoya picks up his burger "Her job is to serve us food, not irritate me with some weak sales pitch" You make it an internal point never to pull kyoya out of bed unceramoniously if this grouchy mood is a result.

"What now?" you realise that Haruhi has been staring at him "I just don't think i've actually seen you eat before. Somehow I thought the experience would more refined" You raise an eyebrow as someone who has actually dined with kyoya before.

"That would imply that Kyoya would allow himself indulgence, that's more Tamaki's thing"

"Or yours"

"I just cook when I miss my home food, besides there is no shame in finding small joys once in a while"

"I'm just surprised food like this even appeals to you"

"It doesn't appeal to me in the slightest, no doubt you'll say I'm callous for admitting it, since you bought this tripe. There is an understanding between makers of food like this and those who eat it. Quality takes a backseat to convenience, refinement isn't part of the equation. It's meant to be eaten quickly, besides no one of consequence is here to witness my momentary lapse of manners"

You and haruhi don't reply, silently sipping your sodas refraining from commenting "Hey, for the record i'm saying it benefits me nothing to keep up appearances in a place like this"

Three girls approach you, or more specifically Kyoya. "Um excuse me, i'm so sorry to interrupt, if you're not using this chair can my friends and i borrow it?"

"Why not" Kyoya doesn't even look up, speaking through a sigh. "Thank you so much thats awesome!" you squint in confusion as you watch the three girls being far too gleeful at being allowed to borrow a chair. "You're quite welcome"

"You're probably wondering how Tamaki and I complement eachother so well, the answer is simple, I have something to gain. There is no better motivator than self interest. I have to look out for number one you know"

The explanation from Kyoya certainly was not squashing your doubt.

"Tamaki-senpai would be heartbroken if he heard you say that" Haruhi chimes in.

"Not really" you reply

"On the contrary he's understood our arrangement from the very beginning, the same goes for all of us. Kaoru-senpai, hikaru-senpai, Honey-senpai, Mori-Senpai, y/n. The glue that holds the host club together is out mutual egocentricity, its the principle that drives the alliance between our families and ensures each of our futures. Well, let's just say there's still quite a bit you don't know about that "

Haruhi turns to you "What do you have to gain from being apart of the host club?"

"My situation....is a bit more complicated"

"Although tamaki is a fool, and self sacrifice does come naturally to him. So I guess the point of this is, we are very different creatures"

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"Y/n senpai?"

Kyoya had walked ahead, looking through the stalls of the products expo, leaving you and Haruhi to talk. "Hm?"

"How do you and Kyoya...."

"Huh?"

"It is very clear that Kyoya senpai does not care for anyone but himself, how do you....have such a good relationship with him?.... Is it a relationship? because it's clear that there's something going on with you two "

your jaw hangs open for a second as you try to pull together the words for such an answer. "Is it that clear?"

Haruhi looks at you unimpressed "Y/n-senpai the only time I see him display any emotion at all it is towards you, you're always sat together at the club....you may hide it well enough that the rest of the school don't know but the club is convinced that the two of you are dating"

"Well...I won't lie and say that we don't have our faults but....in truth I think its because that we have an understanding of one another...."

You look at Kyoya, who is up ahead unaware of the conversation taking place "We've never really had the conversation of whether what we have is romantic, I don't think we really need one....it's just that after all this time it has become routine for us. I know that Kyoya is self-serving, I always have...but at the end of the day so am I. And within our self serving we know we need each other, which is why we look out for each other..."

You shrug "We aren't really the type for loud romantic gestures, that has always been Tamaki's thing. I don't really need the term 'dating' or 'girlfriend' because I don't think that is every what we will have or even want. There is just....us. I know it's a strange thing to understand but our way of flirting is basically scheming"

Haruhi shoots you a strange look "You've started to sound like him"

You raise an eyebrow "Have i?"

"I must admit y/n-senpai, I never have thought of you as a 'schemer' in the same way I do Kyoya senpai"

You desperately avoid laughing, if only she knew what the two of you had been up to. "That is because Kyoya and I are perceived differently. We always will be, no one trusts a calculated woman. And I need people to trust me to get where I want to. The truth is Kyoya and I are more alike than you may think, but I can afford to show more compassion because that is expected of me"

Haruhi hums "I suppose that makes sense"

You catch up with Kyoya "Black pearls from Ishigaki Island?" you note "odd to find them here given how much they go for" Kyoya adds. "You're kidding. Really? That's incredible. How can you tell?"

"We are products of excellent breeding"

"So, Kyoya-senpai, why is it that after all this time, I still know next to nothing about your family?"

The two of you pause although Haruhi didn't seem to pick up on it.

"Because there's really nothing for you to know about my family, at least nothing that should be of interest to you"

"Well, that seems to be a little bit unfair, don't you think?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean that when it comes to my personal life, you even keep tabs on who my father's friends from work are, while I barely have a clue about yours. So I call that unfair."

"That's a very intriguing notion, in it's own way"

"You've got two older brothers right? For starters, you could tell me something about them? What kind of people are they "

"Oh no" you whisper

"They are rather exceptional. Enough so, that my father puts a lot of stock in them. Though as the third son, things work out a little differently for me"

"I didn't realise there was so much pressure on you to succeed."

"Pressure? Oh no Haruhi, i can think of nothing more fun than this"

"It is as I said Haruhi, we thrive under the notion of scheming" you smirk.

Haruhi sighs, worn out at the idea. "When did you say this?" Kyoya raises an eyebrow, you can tell he is mildly concerned about the idea of you exposing your plans. "Don't worry about it"

"Dear me, pieces from the komatsu shoin collection. I never thought that I would find them here." you look over to an older woman at one of the stalls.

"Why madam you have an astonishing eye"

Kyoya squints at the scene before him "um...senpai"

"You know they have such an exquisite colour, don't they? To tell you the truth, I'm not really supposed to have these out on display . The bulk of the komatsu collection has been privately held for ages. Pieces rarely come up for sale"

You roll your eyes, the man was really laying it on thick. He's worse than kyoya during club hours. The woman fawns over the pieces.

Kyoya approaches the stall. "With all due respect, these are fake"

"Huh?"

"Hey, get out of here kid. What do you think you're doing?"

"The shade of blue is strongly reminiscent of shoin's work but looking closely around the base, you'll notice the colour graduation isn't quite dark enough to be authentic. That and the lacquer is too clear."

"That's enough of you, Mr. expert, i'll report you for obstructing my business"

Kyoya flips around the bowl to look at the base "Just as I thought, the brushstrokes on this seal are uncharacteristically broad as well. For your sake I hope you have a certificate, that is if you insist it's real"

The man starts to sweat "Of course it's real! I have the certificate at home!"

"Ah, the surely you won't mind if I call the komatsu family right now to verify your claim. My own family has had dealings with them for generations. It would only be a matter of minutes"

The man eventually gets escorted out, you shake your head with a slight smile on your face, for a man who likes to lay low Kyoya certainly has a flare for the dramatic.

"After everything you told me senpai, stepping in on a complete stranger's behalf seems a little out of character for you" Haruhi says.

"Hmm? Oh, that? Well now, she's hardly a stranger. You mean you don't know? Her husband is the CEO of a major electronics company. This is my first time meeting her personally but that ring on her left hand is unmistakable. My family has dealing's with her husbands family"

The woman walks over "Ah, one of the Ootori boys, and f/n's daughter as well, imagine running into you both incognito, the next opportunity I have, I'll be sure to take advantage of one of your famil's beautiful health resorts"

"We'd be honored"

A nearby stall catches Kyoya's attention "Hey haruhi did you know this?"

"Did I know what?"

"Is melon the preferred flavour among snack makers? It doesn't make sense, if the primary ingredient is corn, why go through the trouble of artificially making it taste like fruit?" the two of you laugh.

"That's an intriguing notion in it's own way"

"Oh was I being funny?"

"Earlier you were going on and on about how you and Tamaki-senpai are nothing alike, but what you just said then about the candy? It sounds exactly like him!"

"You think so? It does seem like something he nad the twins would fawn over. Very well I'll buy them. Haruhi? your wallet"

you place a hand over haruhi's as she goes to hand over her purse "I'LL buy them, haruhi got lunch"

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The three of you sit at a bench in the mall, taking a break from shopping. "Hey, senpai?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think that Tamaki-Senpai is always so eager to help people when they're in need?"

"You mean when there's nothing to be gained from it? Who knows?"

"So then when you help someone, how exactly do you benefit from it?"

"The way that I've always seen it Tamaki-senpai get's something more abstract from helping others. He likes to see people happy, one could argue it is because he doesn't like being reminded of certain hardships but it is not my job to psycho analyse him. For us it's...a combination of things, reputation yes, which can lead to connections that possibly make us money but there is something else..." You explain.

"Huh?"

"Attention shoppers, this is an announcement for a lost child. A little boy named Kyoya Ootori is lost inside the store. Repeat Kyoya Ootori is lost. His guardian, Suoh, is waiting for him at the second floor information counter"

"Oh no" you mutter.

"Kyoya is five feet eleven inches tall with black hair, and wearing perscription glasses" everyone around you begin to stare as Kyoya obviously matches the description. "That damn idiot, i'll kill him"

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You and Kyoya are sat in the car on the way back from the mall that evening "I never did ask, how did the meeting go?" you look over to kyoya, but also making sure that the driver cannot hear the two of you.

He smirks "Let's just say that we will be having a lot more early morning meetings in the future"

You smile "I see."

"You may as well drop us both off at the apartments" Kyoya speaks up to the driver, who nods.

Eventually the driver pulls up, dropping the two of you off as you enter the complex. "Do you have any more leads on this mystery between our two families?"

"Quite possibly, I must admit that it was slightly easier than I expected, a cover up can only cover so much" the two of you enter your apartment. "I see"

"But that hasn't been my main focus, finding out what my father is covering up for yours is useless to us at the moment. No one would believe two teenagers regardless our networks as is. So...I have been weeding through the board of directors, finding some weak points. Get enough on board then we can use the l/n media corporation to expose itself and the ootori group both at once" You hum out a laugh, stepping away to get a drink.

"Y/n?" Kyoya grasps your wrist, keeping you from getting too far

"Hm?"

He pauses for a second, but it didn't take long for him to pull you closer and into a kiss. Your body doesn't catch up to your mind for a second, mostly frozen up except for an arm thrown around his shoulder.

As soon as you realise exactly what is happening it ends, him pulling away slightly as he smirks at your reaction. You stare back at him with wide eyes "I..."

He laughs, stepping away. Heading to the fridge to fetch both of your drinks.

While he does so you still stand there, frozen, staring at him. 'i'm so screwed' you whisper to yourself.

Next time on patience 'Chika's 'down with Honey' declaration!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden @nanaloverz

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

You Came In Like a Fire, Burned All I Ever Knew

A long time ago (like five weeks) I went into @exhaustedpirate's inbox with an idea for a fic based on the fact that there's a couple of photos that they reblogged of Orville Peck that we both thought were Oliver Stark for a second. I finally finished it! I finished it a while ago, actually, but I didn't get a chance to edit until this last weekend. Josh Russo drags him out to a club for a Heroes and Villains night, talks some sense into him, and chases off patrons who think that Buck is everyone's favorite gay singing cowboy. At home, Buck listens to the music of said cowboy, gets real sad, and texts Tommy. It's mostly going to be on AO3, because it's almost 6k words. You can find that here.

When someone knocks on Buck’s door at 7 PM on a Friday, he doesn't expect it to be Josh. He definitely doesn't expect it to be Josh in a costume that makes him look sort of like a leather Bond villain with a mask.

“We're going out,” Josh says, pressing a mask to Buck’s chest. “To a club. Because your sister brought eight dozen scones to the office today, and you're fucking up my diet.”

Buck takes the mask and looks over his shoulder where he has a pie crust rolled out. “Okay, but—”

“That looks like something that I can put in the fridge while you put on something that makes you look like a hero or villain, because that's the event,” Josh says, pushing his way past Buck.

He chews on his bottom lip for a second. “Okay, but just—don’t handle the dough too much.”

Josh throws a dismissive wave over his shoulder. “I watch Bake Off, I know.”

Buck goes upstairs and stares at his clothes for a long time. He pulls out a pair of black jeans, a Batman logo shirt that Chris had gotten him, and a black button up. It's the closest he can get to a costume with zero notice unless he wants to break out his cowboy costume from Halloween. But thinking about that makes his skin itch from phantom boils and that feeling he gets when he wants to text Tommy.

When he's done getting dressed, he goes downstairs and sees that Josh is eating a spoonful of raw cookie dough and tapping at his phone.

“I don't want to hear it, I know the risks,” Josh says before Buck can speak. He looks up at Buck and makes a face. “God, you look like every guy I used to hook up with in college who would pretend I didn't exist after.”

Buck smooths his hands over the shirt and shrugs. “I'd have talked to you after.”

“That an offer?” Josh teases, his eyes already back on his phone.

“No,” Buck says with an apologetic shrug. “I don't think I really want to hook up with anyone right now.”

Josh tosses the spoon in the sink. “Yeah, but you can't chain yourself to an oven for the rest of your life. So let's go. I give you full permission to ditch me for a hookup, which is big of me.”

“Thanks?” Buck toys with the mask before putting it on. “How do I look?”

“Devastatingly handsome,” Josh says with a sigh. “Come on, you fucking disaster.”

There's an Uber downstairs already waiting for them, and Buck texts Maddie to find out if she put Josh up to this.

Maddie Uhhh NO because otherwise I would be there, too. Have fun ♥️

“So this is just because of the scones?” he asks, and Josh turns his head slowly to stare at him.

“No, Buck, this is not ‘just because of the scones,’” he says, an eerie calm to his voice. “It's also because of the cookies, cakes, pies, tarts, biscuits, pastas, loaves, bread, and pastries that have appeared in the break room at my job almost every single day for weeks. I have gained four pounds, it would've been more, but I've had to start going to the gym a lot. So I am going to get you laid or at least get you to stop using flour as a coping mechanism. Why couldn't you just start doing K or doomscroll TikTok like everyone else?”

Buck ignores the steadily rising eyebrows of the Uber driver in the rearview mirror. “I—I just miss talking to him. But he doesn't want me to, or he'd be here.”

“Not how that works, but we'll get there,” Josh says, patting his knee. “I need alcohol first. And a bear to squeeze after.”

“You're into bears?”

Josh shrugs. “I'm into everything. Aren't you?”

Buck considers it for a moment. “I haven't really thought about it.”

“Jesus chr—at least tell me you've been watching porn,” Josh whines, and Buck shrugs. “For fuck’s sake. I will tip you double if you get us to this club in the next five minutes.”

–

It is fun being out with Josh, who orders them drinks and scares off a guy who greets Buck by squeezing his waist and scaring the shit out of him. They dance a little bit, but it's nothing crazy. They keep a respectable amount of space between their bodies and are dancing more with the crowd than anything else. Buck even finds himself laughing more than once, losing himself in the music and wondering if he should've been going to clubs all along. It's fun, even though he isn't looking to take anyone home.

A guy comes up behind him and he's a solid weight but not quite tall enough that Buck thinks he's anything but a stranger. He must be cute, though, based on the encouraging thumbs up he gets from Josh. Buck leans into the body against his and dances the rest of the song, but when he gets turned and almost kissed, he apologizes and backs off.

“Sorry, I'm with someone!” he shouts over the music, and the guy—who is really hot—shrugs before disappearing into the crowd.

“Yeah, okay, now we need to talk,” Josh says in his ear, grabbing him by the wrist.

They end up in a corner with new drinks while Buck spills the entire story, from the anniversary dinner to the break up, and Josh looks more and more confused as he talks.

“Wait, so you guys just didn't talk about your relationship the entire time you were together?” he asks.

“I mean, we made plans, just for dates and stuff.” Buck shrugs. “I don't know, I kind of liked not having to talk about everything I did wrong that made everyone walk away from me. I thought maybe it meant he might…not.”

Josh groans and takes a long sip of his drink. “Okay, so the fact that he also seemed comfortable with this—to the point where you didn't know he was ever engaged to a woman—didn’t make you think that maybe he also had a luggage carousel full of baggage?”

Buck pokes at the ice in his drink with the cocktail stirrer. “I dunno. I just liked being around him so much, I didn't really think about any of that.”

“Well, of course you liked being around him, you guys spent six months going on dates and fucking like what I imagine to be two extremely buff and athletic rabbits.” Josh pauses. “Okay, sidebar: is he as hung as he seems?”

He flushes and reflexively looks around like someone he knows might pop up and hear him talk about his ex’s dick, because he'd been yelled at a lot by his friends while they were together. “It's—yeah. I mean, I don't know how he seems—”

“Bullshit, but continue.”

“—but there was, like, a long adjustment period,” Buck admits, then frowns. “No pun intended, I guess. I don't know, but he wouldn't let me bottom for the first month and a half until I, uh, got used to everything.”

Josh presses a hand to his chest and sighs. “Be still my beating vagina.”

[wisegirl25]

More Silly Excerpts from my Arcane High School AU

Jinx, holding up a mirror to Ekko’s face: Sooo what do you think?

Ekko: I actually like it more than I thought I would

Jinx: I KNEW IT! I told you earlier piercings would look good on you. You could’ve had this done YEARS ago

Ekko: Yeah, yeah, whatever

Jinx: So…would you be down to get matching tattoos next?

Ekko: NO. Isn’t that illegal anyways??? We’re underage

Jinx: I will not be bound by silly things such as laws. Just watch, I’ll wear you down just like I did with the piercings

~

Vi: Hi Caitlyn!

Caitlyn: Hello, Violet. Do you need anything?

Vi: Uhh I just wanted to ask you...uhhh how to graph linear equations?

Caitlyn: ...

Vi: ...

Caitlyn: You are aware that's grade 9 level math, right?

Vi: ...yeah well I failed grade 9 math twice, sue me

Caitlyn: *face slap*

Vi, who is in fact in Advanced Functions (because of Jinx's help) and just wanted an excuse to talk to Caitlyn: *shrugs*

~

Some random kid: Haha look at Viktor! Fucking cripple can barely walk.

Viktor: *death glare but doesn't say anything*

The next day

The police knocking on the kids door: Sir, we have reason to suspect your son for underage use and distribution of drugs

Viktor: *smirking*

~

Jinx: Okay Isha, when I say go I need you to run into the cafeteria and drop this in there, you're small enough so they won't notice you

Isha, nodding: *grabs the smoke bomb and makes a run for it, detonates it in the caf and runs back out to Jinx*

Jinx: *grabs Isha and runs out of the school*

Five minutes later

Jinx: Oh my phone is ringing, it's Ekko

Ekko: JINX. I'M COVERED IN PINK GLITTER, I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SET THAT OFF IN THE CAFETERIA

Jinx: Well, technically it was Isha *giggles*

Ekko: ...WHY ARE YOU CORRUPTING ISHA

Isha, whose idea it was to set it off there in the first place: *laughing*

Jinx: *Hangs up on Ekko*

~

Mel: Jayce, I'm trying to fix my makeup can you not stand so close to me

Jayce who is like a foot away from Mel: ...okay...

Mel: You're still too close, move back a little

Jayce, getting confused: *moves back*

Mel: Farther

Jayce: Mel we're literally dating I do not need to be this far from you

Mel: Oh look there's Viktor, go annoy him *pushes Jayce towards Viktor*

Jayce, even more confused: ...Oookay then

~

Guys I swear I'll write more for this AU soon I just keep getting distracted with my other stuff (aka Part 2 of Whose Goddamn White Baby is That?) So here is this as a peace offering for now

[fayecreates]

I Will Die Your Daughter.

Premise: uhhh totes not a self insert because my day left me a few weeks ago and im now only coming to terms with it… you and sevika have daddy issues and y’all talk about it. The reader is an errand runner for Silco around S1. Also fem reader, Sevika doesnt like men, sorry.

A/N: 100% inspired by robotxm’s edit on tiktok, please go watch it it’s the best edit ever. I’m also making this bc im tired of all Sevika fics, as beautifully constructed as they are, are all smut. also its not a crime to make stuff up so dont be mean to me… i may or may not be taking requests…

Warnings: mentions of abandonment, allusion to harmful habits/behaviors (kinda leaning towards self harm), daddy issues i guess?? Probably a bit ooc Sevika

Words: 1,466

It was late at night, the new moon up in the sky barely allowing sight. You were tired to say the least, not only physically from all of stupid small yet tedious tasks from Silco, but also just your life. Nobody thought it was easy growing up in Zaun, at least compared to Piltover. Sure you had food, a roof over your head, and a blanket to keep you warm at night, but a part of you still felt like a desperate little kid. Dad was not around much, staying for a few days, taking some cash and then leaving to go do whatever he wanted. It sucked for sure, but it was a routine at least. Once he really left, not on some vacation but just for the fun of it, it just felt weirdly empty. Today being the five year anniversary of these untouched emotions didn’t help work go by faster either.

Being Silco’s errand-girl also meant being up for his beck and call. sleep weighed down your eyes, it was only one in the morning but it felt like six already. Staying in the little ‘home’ with all Silco’s goons was weird, it was like living with all your estranged cousins who you couldn’t tell if they hated you or not, well all but Sevika. She wasn’t the stereotypical ‘nice girl’ but staying by her for a while now wasn’t so horrible as the rest. Maybe it was trust, maybe it was some weird friendship, either way Sevika was the one and only girl you could call to for help.

Walking towards the kitchen, deciding that maybe a glass of cold water would wake you up miraculously, you saw Sevika sitting at the usually empty breakfast nook. Giving her a small nod, barely having enough energy to muster up the ghost of a smile, you walked towards to cupboards. Grabbing a shitty mug, you just get some water from the sink, sure it probably wasn’t the best for you considering Zaun, but it didn’t matter all too much. Standing at the counter, a ways away from Sevika, you take moments to sip then stare at the wall.

“Something wrong?” Sevika’s voice rang out, her voice was rough but not in an emotional way. You glanced up at the sudden question, looking at her with a semi surprised expression. You knew people didn’t care, i mean could you blame them? People down there spent their lives working to just barely survive, caring or even asking was rare. You shook your head slightly, it was a lie of course. How could anything be right? Everyday just felt like the knife dug deeper into your chest. She simply hummed in response, she didn’t buy it but she wouldn’t pry anymore.

“…he left me five years ago today.” You spoke up after a second, like a rush of adrenaline just to say something so simple. Your eyes stayed locked with the chipped paint. She glanced back to you, her expression not moving much but the movement alone showed her attention was on you.

“Some boyfriend or something?” Sevika asked, sure the statement was unclear but you had already wanted to just yell sorry and run off. “My dad.” You say, your voice hinted with a sort of apathy. “I dont know, i dont really miss him to be honest, it just sucks i guess…” You continue, it wasn’t honest, it didn’t just ‘suck’ it felt horrible. Keeping up a constant unfeeling mask felt like living in the wrong skin, you felt things so deeply but you couldn’t risk showing it.

“…i get you, dads suck.” Sevika says, snapping you out of your headspace. You looked towards her, her arm was relaxed, holding a cup of god knows what. Her expression was the same as always, but she looked at you in a way no on else bothered to try. She was simply understanding, connecting even, but it was such a strange surprise. “…they really do.” You respond, a look of almost happiness if it weren’t for the context. “You wanna talk about it? I can tell it’s a bit more than just ‘it sucks’.” Sevika says, her tone a little joking, only to keep the lighter mood.

“…its not like that was the first time he left me, he’d do it like once a week. He’s done it on some of the most important part of my life.” You explain, your body turned towards her, your hand grasping the handle of the mug, but your eyes never met her as though it would make you really understand each word. “Sometimes i wish… i wish he’d like me enough to just come back. He never wrote to me, he never dropped by, it’s like i never existed to him.” You continue, anger growing in your voice just slightly.

“I want him to just stand me, im not asking for the world!” You say, growing a bit too agitated over the long over issue. “I hate him… but i loved him too. I was always a daddy’s girl, y’know i was a tomboy, a girl who loved all the stuff he did. I dont know what i did wrong, i was just a kid. When did i just become not good enough? I got better, i stopped hurting myself, i got better grades in school, i was a good person!” You yell even if it wasn’t super loud, your tone changing from anger to just sadness and confusion. Your eyes finally met Sevika’s, she was just look at you, giving small nods when you finished talking. She didn’t even have that pitying expression everyone had when you even mentioned feeling down. You stayed silent, really realizing that you weren’t just speaking in your head.

“It’s not your fault.” Sevika said as though it were basic knowledge, not in a condescending way though. “No matter how hard you change, he’d probably still stay away.” She says, her tone was a bit comforting.

“…i know… it just pisses me off, sorry.” You apologize, you just felt bad for wasting her time on something she didnt really care about. “For what, answering the question I asked?” She asked rhetorically, putting her forearm on the counter and leaning forward. “Stop saying sorry all the time, you’re not wrong.” She reprimanded, looking at her with the same semi soft look. All you wanted to do was say ‘sorry’ again.

“…okay…” you muttered, knowing you needed to respond but not in a pathetic way. You shift your weight on your feet, leaning a bit to the side. “I won’t like and say i know how you feel, but i didn’t always like my old man either.” She says, taking a sip of her drink. “We’d fight, we’d make up, but never once did he try to leave me.” She says simply. “Ouch.” You respond, taking it as a jab to your lack of present father. “Not what i meant, I mean your dad’s a douche. No real man would leave their child like that, especially not you.” She continues, giving you almost a compliment? Your expression changed again, it was one of surprise and maybe a bit flushed.

“… i dont know how to feel better, its like everything i try fails.” You admit, your tone quiet instead of its usual projection. You take a sip of water, hoping it’ll do something for you. “It won’t feel better.” She says bluntly, standing up from her stool and starting to slowly walk around the counter. “It might feel less bad day by day, but thats if you stop avoiding it.” Sevika says placing her hand on your shoulder in an attempt of comfort. “And saying that you don’t care, when you so obviously do, is avoiding it.” She says leaning down just a bit.

You didn’t know what to say, your eyes started to tear up a bit, definitely not by choice. You let your head fall, refusing to meet Sevika’s eyes. You just started crying, it was rare, every once in a while you’d spend hours sobbing and punching till it felt fine, but this was different. It was a moment of vulnerability, you didn’t know why Sevika chose you to give a moment of her little time open. You felt guilty, you always felt guilty though. Her hand pull you closer for a small hug. It was for sure awkward, but you wrapped your arms around her waist, burying your face into her shoulder.

You cried probably a bit too much, tears stained her shirt. Either way she kept patting your back as you attempt to not make an awkward noise. Sevika didn’t care though, no matter how awkward or weird the things you did it was no big deal.

She cared, unconditionally and irrevocably.

[urmommt]

ch 2 Sealed with a kiss (jakvik x reader)

I know i said id do like 5k words but the struggle is so real oml. i hope u enjoy this ch and ill work on spitting out more words for the next chapter i promise :>

 “Wakey wakey sleepy head,” yelled the incessant noise of Sky directly into your ear.

“Ugh, leave me alone, Sky. It’s my rest day, and I don’t plan on waking up till noon,” you replied.

“Dude, it’s 3 PM. Get up,” she said.

“IT’S WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER?” you screamed as you jumped up. You had planned on getting some work done on your assignment around now because, at this rate, you’d never get it finished and submitted in time.

You only had one more month to work on it before it had to be sent in, and since you’re a massive procrastinator, you had barely done anything in the past five months while everyone else was busting their asses to get the work finished.

“Considering what you said to me a minute ago, I don’t think you even deserved to wake up now, stink face,” Sky replied.

Sky Young was your best friend. Your bread to your butter. Your cheese to your stick, or however that saying goes. Anyways, you get the idea—you guys were almost inseparable. You’d grown up in the undercity together even though her family was much richer than yours, and you’d moved to the city of Piltover together too since she got accepted at the same time as you did.

When you’d first come, she’d helped out with the expenses and everything, but you paid her back as soon as you got your job at the café, for which she was thankful because people in Zaun, no matter how rich, still struggled in Piltover due to the insane taxes for Zaunites and the fact their currency was less strong than Piltover’s.

She also was your rock when you’d found out about your father’s death, and if it weren’t for her, you really don’t know where you’d be today. Your remembrance of the day you found out was a bit blurred due to the shock of receiving the news. All you know is you woke up one morning, checked the mail, and saw a letter from your father’s boss informing you he’d fallen under some rubble at work and passed away.

As you got up and got ready to study, you remembered you had one more month and so got changed and asked Sky to join you for a day at the academy for sightseeing instead of studying. It’s fine since you had a month anyway, and there was a little scientific event set by the biochem majors today that you really badly wanted to go see.

“Uhhh, I thought you had studying to do today,” Sky said with a raised brow, looking at you in a knowing way.

You stood there looking like an idiot for around a minute before replying very tactfully.

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh. Get your stationery and laptop. We can go see the event, then go to the library to study together. You need to get this assignment going,” she said.

Reluctantly, you agreed and grabbed your bag along with your textbooks, laptop, and a few other little things to go.

The biochemistry event at Piltover University was a bustling affair. The grand hall was filled with displays showcasing innovations and experiments, the air alive with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of applause. You and Sky wandered through the exhibits, your eyes lighting up at the intricate machinery and complex equations scrawled on presentation boards.

“This is amazing,” you said, pausing to admire a holographic projection of molecular structures. “Makes me wish I had chosen biochem instead of engineering.”

Sky smirked, nudging you. “You’d regret it the moment you saw the workload. Stick to your devices and let these nerds handle the chemicals.”

You laughed, but your attention was soon drawn to a corner of the room where a small crowd had gathered. Curious, you made your way over, Sky trailing behind. At the center of the commotion stood two familiar figures—tall and broad-shouldered, with an easy smile, and lean with a sharp, analytical gaze. Viktor and Jayce.

Your breath hitched as memories of their brief visit to the café flashed in your mind. They were presenting something—a sleek device that pulsed with a faint blue light, its purpose explained in animated gestures by Jayce while Viktor observed the crowd, his gaze suddenly locking on you the moment he noticed you.

“Isn’t that...?” Sky began, but you quickly shushed her, not wanting to draw attention.

“Yes,” you whispered, pulling her to a less conspicuous spot. “They came to the café last week. I made their coffee.”

Sky gave you a look, half-amused, half-curious. “And you’re acting like they’re celebrities because...?”

“I don’t know,” you whined, your eyes involuntarily drifting back to the duo. Jayce was in his element, charming the audience with his enthusiasm, while Viktor’s focus remained unwavering, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if seeking something—or someone.

When his gaze landed on you again, a jolt of recognition passed between you. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to the presentation. Jayce, meanwhile, finished his explanation with a flourish, earning a round of applause.

“That was something,” Sky said, nudging you again. “You should go talk to them.”

“What? No!” you hissed, horrified at the suggestion. “They wouldn’t even remember me.”

Sky shrugged, her grin mischievous. “Your loss. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it later.”

Ignoring her, you turned your attention back to the exhibits, though your thoughts remained tangled in the brief, charged moment of eye contact. You tried to shake it off, focusing instead on a demonstration involving automated prosthetics. The technology was fascinating, and you couldn’t help but compare it to your own fledgling designs.

“See? Inspiration everywhere,” Sky said, pulling you towards another booth. “Now, let’s soak it all in so you can finish that damn assignment.”

Despite her teasing, you found yourself immersed in the event, the initial awkwardness fading as you absorbed the wealth of ideas and innovation around you. The faces of Viktor and Jayce lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to make the most of the day—and to finally tackle your project with renewed focus.

The afternoon flew by as you and Sky explored the event, each booth offering a glimpse into the cutting-edge advancements Piltover was known for. From augmented reality interfaces to bioengineered plants capable of purifying the air, it was a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

At one booth, a young scientist demonstrated a prototype for a device that could synthesize food molecules, effectively creating meals out of raw elemental compounds. “Imagine,” he said, “no more hunger. No more wasted resources. Just pure efficiency.”

Sky raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like something straight out of a dystopian novel.”

You chuckled, but the comment stayed with you. Piltover’s progress often came at a cost, and the line between innovation and exploitation was razor-thin.

As the event wound down, you and Sky found yourselves back near the presentation area where Viktor and Jayce had been. They were packing up their equipment, their conversation animated yet hushed. You couldn’t hear the words, but their synergy was palpable, each movement and gesture perfectly in sync.

“They make a good team,” Sky observed. “Wonder if they’re as insufferable as they look.”

You snorted. “Jayce, maybe. Viktor? He seems... different.”

“Different how?”

You hesitated, struggling to articulate the impression he left. “I don’t know. Just... quieter. Like he’s always thinking about something important.”

Sky gave you a sidelong glance, her smirk returning. “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, swatting at her. But the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you, and Sky’s laughter echoed as you walked away.

By the time you both finished wondering around the event that evening  you lost track of the time and it had already become 8pm. Although neither of you minded and your mind was still buzzing with ideas from the event. You spread your notes and sketches across the library table and determined to channel your inspiration into tangible progress. Sky, ever the supportive friend, plopped down beside you with her own work, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence broken only by the occasional question or comment.

Yet, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back to Viktor and Jayce. Their confidence, their camaraderie, the way they seemed to embody the very essence of Piltover’s ideals. And, of course, the way Viktor’s gaze had lingered just a moment too long.

“Focus,” you muttered to yourself, forcing your attention back to your assignment. There would be time for distractions later. For now, you had work to do.

[kingkonoha]

FIVE HUSBANDS

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

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

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: With a big change coming into your life — and after shocking your old lovers with an unexpected decision — not all of them are ready to let go of you just yet, except for one person.

The celebrity lifestyle is a deadly game of love, manipulation, secrets, wealth, and nosy paparazzi, and not everyone can win. However, there’s one person you need to watch out for more than anything: the obsessed one.

WARNING: THERE ARE MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THIS CHAPTER IN THE CONTENT WARNINGS BELOW.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI || DARK CONTENT — fem reader, modern au, slight smut, heavy angst, marriage, cheating, major violence & blood, gun mentions, pregnancy, miscarriage, false imprisonment, toxic relationship, manipulation, stalking, murder talk, suicide ideation, drinking, character struggles to eat, illness, hospitalization, vomiting, & major character death.

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 15k

♡ — 𝐀/𝐍: Hi folks! This is a long chapter, I’m sorry, but out of all parts, this one I have enjoyed writing the most. I can’t believe the series is almost over! We have the finale after this!

— YEARS AGO - NEW YORK CITY —

When walking into the bakery, one was often greeted by the sweet smell of freshly baked pastries and desserts. Cakes and cobblers, brownies and pies — every mouth-watering treat a customer with a sweet tooth could ever want.

The sugary scents would often stay with the employees, too. Armin Arlert in particular always smelled like cinnamon rolls after spending hours upon hours preparing them throughout the day. No matter how many times he washed his clothes or lathered his body in soap, the hard-working baker’s natural scent was bread and cinnamon. 

Around the bakery, the joke of the century was that when Armin would sweat, he’d sweat sugar.

At work, the only time he wasn’t spreading the brown sugar mixture onto the dough, rolling it, and shoving it into the oven was when he had to work the cash register.

Oh, how the customers gawked at that gorgeous baker. 

More sweets were often sold when Armin was leading the sales, as he could convince anyone to buy anything with his kind customer-service smile and big ocean-blue eyes. 

What caught your attention one day was the sight of him interacting with the curious, wide-eyed children who’d often waddle into the bakery.

“See somethin’ you want, honey?” A young mother once said to her son on a Christmas Eve night, holding the little boy’s hand as they darted their eyes between every baked item behind the glass display beneath the countertop.

“Uhhh,” the child frowned. He wanted everything. It was such an overwhelming decision.

“Too many options to choose from, huh?” Armin looked down at the young boy from over the cash register, smiling kindly. “Do you like chocolate?”

The boy shook his head as a way of saying no.

“What about icing? Or frosting?”

The boy shrugged shyly. 

“Alright, give me a second,” Armin started to walk away, then hesitated, turning around to face the boy’s brown-haired mother. “He’s not allergic to anything, is he?” 

“He’s not,” she smiled, speaking with a bit of a southern accent despite being in New York City. They must have been traveling and wanted a sweet treat that reminded them of home.

Armin nodded, and suddenly, he appeared over your shoulder, where you were mixing brownie batter in a big silver bowl.

“Hey,” speaking softly, he said, “have any extra cinnamon rolls?”

You turned around to face him, and when you did, he ran his thumb across your cheek, wiping off a line of frosting. 

“Yeah, they’re over there,” you quickly pointed at the extra cinnamon rolls sitting on the stainless steel prep table, next to an extra batch of chocolate chip cookies. 

“You’re a mess,” he teased, walking toward the sink to wash his hands.

“I’d like to see you stay clean after baking this many desserts by yourself,” with a teasing tone of your own, you grinned and said, “I know we’re short-staffed, but I can’t believe they let you work the cash register. Can you even count?”

“Says the person who made almost double the amount of cinnamon rolls. Can you read? The recipe, I mean?” 

“Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Armin suddenly flicked his wet hand at you, dots of water sprinkling onto your skin. 

Your little shriek made his heart swell. As he dried off his hands and grabbed a spare cinnamon roll, he saw that the young mother was grinning as she watched the interaction between you two.

After all, she knew what love looked like.

“Alright little guy,” Stepping from behind the counter, Armin kneeled in front of the shy child with messy, brown hair, and he held out a cinnamon roll. “Wanna break off a piece and try this? I think you’d really like it. If not, we can try some cake, okay?” 

 The child nodded, and hesitantly, he broke off a piece with his little fingers, and bit into it. 

His big brown eyes widened with childlike wonder, and the goofy grin that suddenly appeared on his face was a telltale sign that Armin helped this kid create a cherishable memory.

Armin couldn’t help but smile too.

“It’s good!” The kid instantly broke off another piece — and rather quickly, as he almost knocked the cinnamon roll out of Armin’s hand. 

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Can we get one cinnamon roll then, please?” The mother asked Armin with a smile. 

“Of course,” Armin rose to his feet and went behind the register. “Would you like anything for yourself, ma’am?”

“No thank you.” 

Armin looked into the woman’s eyes. She was young, not much older than he was, but the bags under her eyes from utter exhaustion made her seem much older. Then, Armin glanced down at her hands. 

He instantly recognized those hands. 

Pale skin that was rough and scarred from working hard — they looked just like his own hands.

Finally, Armin looked at her clothes. 

Her son was dressed perfectly for the chilly New York City weather, bundled up from head to toe in a blue, thick coat and warming pants, but she simply wore a thin grey cardigan — one that was obviously worn out.

The mother and son had also walked into the bakery with three bags of luggage.

And while Armin couldn’t and wouldn’t know their entire backstory, if they were homeless, on the run from someone, or anything of the sort — he knew one thing. 

That woman desperately needed a little bit of joy. 

“We have a buy one get one free sale going on today,” Armin lied. “So, if you buy the cinnamon roll, you can get something else to go with it. Anything you’d like.”

“For real?” The woman smiled brightly. “Then, I guess I’ll have . . .  an apple turnover. I haven’t had one of those in years.”

The woman was beaming as brightly as her son was when he bit into the cinnamon roll. 

“Alright, give me just a minute and I’ll have that right out of you.”

When Armin turned around, you gave him a peculiar look as you put two trays of brownie mix into the bakery oven. There wasn’t any sort of sale going on, and you both knew that.

When Armin packed their bag, he gave them two cinnamon rolls and two apple turnovers instead of one of each.

Armin returned to the counter with a bag that was much heavier than it should have been. 

“Alright, that’ll be $3.75,” Armin said.

When the woman placed the money in his hand, he didn’t put it into the register. Instead, he slickly grabbed a handful of napkins from underneath the counter, covered her money with it, and put it right into her bag. 

And with that, the woman and her son left with four free desserts, and Armin said, “Happy holidays.”

Perhaps, he would lose his job for giving away free food, and end up in an even worse position than that woman herself, but he didn’t care that much. 

He could only imagine the smile that would grace her freckled cheeks once she realized that he didn’t take any of her money and gave her and her boy free sweet treats for Christmas. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” You said, snapping Armin out of his thoughts.

Armin leaned across the counter a bit to make sure that the little brown bakery was empty, and then he turned to face you. 

“Are you gonna rat me out?”

“I didn’t see a thing,” you grinned, then suddenly, your smile faded. “But if you get caught, you’ll get-”

“I know,” stepping towards you, he smiled down at your face, which had somehow managed to get another line of white frosting across it. 

“The bakery needs me though, so I think it’ll be fine. It was worth the risk.” Once again, Armin wiped off your cheek with his thumb. “How are you always getting frosting on your face?”

This time, Armin licked the frosting off of his thumb, smearing the small bit of glaze across his tongue. 

“It’s good, though. Nice job,” he said, staring into your eyes.

“That’s nasty,” a playful grimace appeared across your face, and you stepped away.

Softly, classic Christmas songs played through the cheap speaker.

After having to hear the same ten ballads repeatedly throughout the holiday season, you had quickly gotten sick of every verse. 

Every melody. 

But, for some reason, you didn’t mind it today.

“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” by Frank Sinatra was currently playing. What a beautiful song it was.

Perhaps, one would even say it was the only Christmas song you hadn’t grown tired of hearing just yet.

“You like this song?” Armin asked, grabbing a rag and wiping down your baking station. “You started smiling when it came on.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m smiling,” your soft grin only grew wider. “I was just thinking about how nice you were with that kid earlier. You’d make a great father someday.”

“You think so?” Tossing the rag over his shoulder, Armin turned to face you as he leaned against the prep table.

“Mhm. Do you plan on having kids one day?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I mean, I’d like to, but only if I could actually afford to have a family.” Armin paused. “I wouldn’t wanna subject my future children to poverty. No way would I purposely let them go through what I’ve gone through. What about you?”

“If I met the right person, then yeah. And if I could afford it. Same as you.” Looking up at Armin with an expression he couldn’t quite recognize, despite having known you for years, you said, “I’d have kids with you, I think.”

Armin couldn’t tell if you were joking or not. 

Your friendship had always revolved around playful flirting, and being comfortable enough with each other to say such thought-provoking things that always made his heart skip a beat, but this time, he wasn’t certain if your spoken words were something he should take seriously. 

Even in the face of uncertainty, Armin laughed softly. But he couldn’t control the faint dust of pink that appeared across his cheeks.

“Two bakers having a kid would be something else. All of their friends would wanna come to our house all the time to get free desserts and stuff.”

“That’s true.”

Suddenly, Armin grabbed the rag from off of his shoulder, tossed it on the counter, and grabbed ahold of your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned. 

“I don’t know. I’m bored. Dance with me.” He pulled you closer. Placing your hand on his shoulder, he moved his own hand to your waist. With his other hand, he held yours and raised it, as you both slowly started to dance. 

“This is so embarrassing,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Why are we dancing in the middle of a bakery? You’re gonna make me burn the brownies.”

“Be quiet for once, please. And we have plenty of brownies because you already made double what the recipe required. I had a feeling you couldn’t read.” 

Together, you both swayed and waltz rather casually and playfully, nearly stepping on each other’s toes multiple times, but none of that mattered. You both filled the air with warm laughter as Armin spun you around.

As the beautiful song came to an end, Armin looked into the eyes of the only woman he would ever want to have kids with, and silently, he hoped that someday, his dream would come true.

—

— BEFORE THE MEETING - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA —

Five phone calls were made — all short, to the point, and lacking any sense of warmth or danger that your old lovers had expected when they all saw your caller ID flash across their cell phone screens. 

Everyone received the same instructions. 

CS Records. Ten o’clock. 

Your thumb pressed the red button to end the very last phone call. 

A few seconds later, that horrifically familiar swirl of nausea started to bubble within your gut. Black high heels clicked against the gorgeous natural stone marble floor of Connie Springer’s mansion. You rushed to the nearest bathroom — not fully running. Drawing any attention to yourself was the last thing you wanted.

You puked into the incredibly expensive smart toilet with an auto-opening lid. 

Right now, the auto-cleaning feature would come in handy too, but perhaps, trying to be discreet was pointless. 

After all, your morning sickness wasn’t the quietest noise in the entire world, and at this time of day, one of Connie’s maids — Bernice — would have been close by. Close enough to hear it. 

In fact, the middle-aged woman was standing right outside of the bathroom door with her cart of cleaning supplies. 

“Good morning,” the short lady greeted once you stepped out into the hallway. 

“Good morning,” you replied, a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

The woman’s eyes scanned you from head to toe. You shifted nervously.

After all, she had three children of her own. 

While you weren’t showing just yet — perhaps a bit bloated — you still wore baggier clothes. Took more trips to the bathroom. Appetite started to change. More exhausted than usual. 

And, of course, the morning sickness. 

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” The woman tilted her head a bit. 

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just ate something I shouldn’t have.”

“Alright, well, have a good day,” the woman smiled softly, pulling her cart along with her once you stepped to the side, letting her enter the bathroom. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you had a bun in the oven.”

You weren’t shocked by her statement. Instead, you felt rather pissed.

“Well, it’s a good thing you know better.”

The clicking of your heels against the floor filled the silence as you walked away. 

Being pregnant right now would ruin everything. Your career — a lifestyle that only a few extraordinarily lucky people would ever achieve — would cease to exist the minute your pregnancy would hit the news.

Well, not immediately, perhaps.

Your name would appear in every eye-catching headline as articles and entertainment news channels would gossip about your infamous love life, and who the baby could potentially belong to. 

But, then, the news would die down, drowned out by the next biggest celebrity scandal.

No one would like the idea of a pregnant woman going on tour and performing concerts. Filmmakers certainly wouldn’t want to cast you at a certain point, either. 

And not every celebrity can successfully make a comeback after giving birth. Especially one well known for their scandals more so than their talent.

You didn’t care about fame — not truly. If you lost it, then being in the spotlight would become a distant, unpleasant memory.

But you did care about money.

But, just maybe, having a child was the one way you could guarantee an abundance of wealth for the rest of your life.

It was a sick and twisted plan, but that was why the only person in the world who knew about your pregnancy was the incredibly wealthy entrepreneur, Connie Springer. 

And you were determined to make him your next husband.

—

When you told your old lovers to no longer chase after you, their reactions were exactly what you had expected. The scenario of tonight had replayed in your mind over and over again, and the real deal was just as accurate as it was in your imagination.

Except for one thing. 

Wrapping your arms around Levi Ackerman, and telling him that you were pregnant. 

The confession fell from between your lips before you knew it. 

At the time, you only wanted to do anything to discourage your lovers from continuing to chase after you, and you had hoped he would keep your secret and somehow convince the others that you were no longer worth pursuing.

However, there was a lot of potential conflict that you had now created. 

For all you know, he would run in front of the flashing cameras and invasive microphones and air out your business to the nosy, gossiping Hollywood streets to reclaim his lost relevancy before you had the chance to secure your own wealth for the future.

No.

He wouldn’t do something like that.

He wasn’t the type of man who would tell someone.

But, even so, there was still the fact that he knew.

And him knowing could ruin everything.

After the short meeting with your past lovers, the car ride back home with Connie in the driver’s seat was completely silent aside from the background noise of the streets of Los Angeles that occurred outside of your rolled-up passenger seat window. 

The occasional sound of a booming radio from cars that drove by. A honk or two once the red lights changed to green. The sound of laughter or shouts from pedestrians on the street. 

All of it filled the deafening silence that existed between you and Connie, but, for the first time, you weren’t worried about what that quietness had meant.

You already knew. 

Connie was in shock. It was obvious from the way he constantly changed his grip on the black steering wheel — holding it with one hand, then two, then back to one. 

He just didn’t expect that you would stay with him, that this time, when you were riding in his car on the way to his mansion, it was your own choice. 

The bubbling noise associated with the infamous L.A. streets dwindled into comforting quietness — the sort of silence that only incredibly wealthy people could afford — as you both arrived closer and closer to Connie’s home.

On this side of town, where billionaires and millionaires alike lived in peace, their homes were big enough to house several families and not have to deal with annoying neighbors. Even you, despite the bit of wealth you had accumulated in your career so far, couldn’t easily afford to rent a room in one of their homes.

But, perhaps, you soon would.

Soon, you would be able to call one of the biggest houses on this side of town your own, as Connie pulled up to it, and drove through the entrance gate. 

When you and Connie rode the elevator up to the main floor of his home, you turned your head in every direction and happened to notice none of his overpaid servants rushing over to tend to you and him. 

“Where is everyone?” You questioned, your words followed by three soft coughs.

Some of his staff had certainly gone home for the night — as they worked a seven to five shift Monday through Friday — but some of them were live-in employees, such as his chef and security — or, rather, his Silent Men. 

“I sent everyone home,” Connie admitted casually.

“Why?”

Connie made his way into the lavish living room and collapsed down on the couch. He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“‘Cause I know your crazy ass exes are probably gonna follow us here.”

“They’re not going to do that,” you frowned, standing to the side of the couch, but not bothering to sit down just yet.

“Don’t be stupid,” Connie rested his hand over his mouth as he spoke. His hazel eyes were glistening with concern. “You think they’re just gonna believe you suddenly wanna stay here? I was even surprised when you got back in my car, and I know the reason. You should’ve told them. They’re gonna find out anyway.”

Little did he know, you did. One of them, at least.

“We can’t tell them yet,” you sat down on the couch and ran your hand across Connie’s thigh in a comforting way. 

Connie was silent for a moment, paying no mind to your hand on his thigh. A comforting touch did little to soothe the neverending worries and unsettling thoughts racing through his scattered mind.

He thought about who he was as a human being. Everything he had done in the past. Everything he was currently doing, along with what he could see himself doing in the future. 

Connie turned his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“I can’t become a father.” 

You sighed softly, not out of irritation, but understanding.

“Listen to me.” You grabbed ahold of his hand, speaking as if you were playing a part in a film. Connie, however, was unaware of the figurative camera. “It’s not too late to become a good person. I want to have this baby, and I want you to be in our lives. All the money in the world can’t compare to the love of a family.”

Connie looked at you out of the corner of his eye, frowning in disbelief.

“Please shut up. You don’t have to try and sound all poetic. I’m not ready to be a father and that won’t change.”

Suddenly, Connie snatched his hand away from yours, and he got off of the couch and started to walk away.

“Wait,” you called out. “So what am I supposed to do, then? Raise it by myself? You know how Hollywood treats pregnant women. If I lose everything, then I’ll become a failed artist associated with your company and your name. I’d also hate for your reputation to get ruined because everyone would know that you fucked one of your artists, and left the mother of your child and your baby all alone. There’s also the fact that you kept me locked away and under your control, too. You can get rid of me somehow if you want, but too many people know the truth about you now, and someone will say something.”

Connie’s footsteps came to a halt. At that moment, when your words seeped into his brain until his fists clenched at his side, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Eren felt that day when Connie forced him to divorce you and told him the consequences of not doing what he wanted.

At the time, Connie had power over Eren. 

Now, you had power over Connie, all in the form of that fetus growing in your belly.

“It’s your choice,” you added on, your tone both soft and yet, threatening as well. “When you manipulate someone, you inevitably end up teaching them all of your tricks.”

Connie bit into the flesh inside of his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. His fists started to tremble.

He’d kill you. 

He’d do it. 

He didn’t care who you were. 

He didn’t care who would find out. 

No one would ever have him on a leash like a dog. 

But, then, he couldn’t. Even if he could toss money into the hands of the justice system to get himself out of trouble, you were right. Too many people knew what kind of man he was. 

Eren Yeager. Jean Kirstein. Levi Ackerman. Reiner Braun. Armin Arlert. Mikasa Ackerman. Erwin Smith.

He couldn’t kill all of them.

He didn’t want to, either. Murder was not a fun little hobby of his, but something to be done when necessary.

No amount of money would be able to clean his hands of that much blood. 

But, there was a part of him that truly didn’t mind being with you. It was that small piece of desperation and loneliness that drove him to sleep with you, to begin with. 

It was a warm and vibrant Saturday night, and Connie had returned home from a party to find you in the rec room playing air hockey by yourself. He decided to join you for a couple of games — much to your surprise — and you couldn’t be certain, but you had sworn a smile appeared upon his face for a brief second. 

Laughing together in the entertaining rec room led to making out in his opulent bedroom. Eventually, you were lying on your back in his thick bed, gripping the soft grey sheets while moaning softly as Connie thrust in and out of you. He was the gentle sort, which was rather shocking. Every slightly drunken moan that escaped from between his lips — every buck of his hips as he chased his sweet release — was the inevitable result of loneliness.

Now, tonight, as if he was suddenly possessed by not only his logic — he knew he didn’t have much of a choice — but that desperate piece of himself that craved love and connection, he turned around to face you, and he said, “Alright. You win.”

You smiled brightly. God, even a sinister grin looked beautiful upon your angelic face.

“You’re going to be a great father, Connie.” 

Connie sat back down on the couch but leaned as far away from you as he could get.

All he could think about was his child. 

You ran a hand across your belly, feeling rather grateful that Connie Springer was truly, incredibly stupid.

Little did he know that you were pregnant for far longer than he believed — and certainly not from that foolish night when your despondency had driven you both to fuck in his bedroom.

He could never know the truth. 

That the baby in your stomach wasn’t his.

Not if you wanted to marry into that billionaire status associated with the Springer name.

The righteous side of you — buried underneath the torturous experiences of media training, interviews, award shows, parties, and paparazzi — held a little bit of guilt regarding your actions, but Connie had put you through hell, a specific kind of torture that a lifetime of therapy wouldn’t erase. 

Trapping you in your room, depriving you of your rights as a human being while forcing you into the spotlight as the physical embodiment of perfection had ruined your mind, body, and soul, and now, you’d drain his overstuffed wallets, snatch every last penny away from him.

In your eyes, it was what he deserved. 

Suddenly, your smile faded. You were truly, incredibly stupid as well. 

After all, revealing your pregnancy to Levi Ackerman wasn’t just a decision you made to scare off your past old flames, but a decision made out of fear — a subconscious choice that made you wonder if, despite having him on a leash, you were truly still afraid of Connie, and wanted to be taken away from him by any means necessary.

Perhaps, you told him, because a small part of you still wanted freedom. 

At least you didn’t tell Levi who the real father was.

No one could ever know. 

Especially Connie Springer. 

—

Eren Yeager was the crazy ex-husband whom Connie feared the most. 

He was the biggest threat, perhaps because he didn’t particularly care about developing critical thinking skills, unlike Levi Ackerman. 

Even when they were young teenagers and Connie was on trial for accidentally murdering his own best friend, Marco Bodt, Connie knew that Eren had a couple of screws loose back then.

Only an insane person would sit in an interrogation room with intimidating police officers for hours without saying a word, all to protect their friend from the harsh and unfair justice system. Along with that, he refused to testify as a witness against Connie despite being threatened with legal charges of his own and had to physically be dragged by his parents into a vehicle and taken to the courthouse. 

Only someone like Eren Yeager would publically beat up his bandmate for fingering his wife, and would happily do it over and over again.

He hit a disrespectful fan with his guitar once, too.

Ignored security protocols to hang out with his groupies, despite the risk to his safety. Always drove too fast. Wasn’t afraid of sky-diving, bungee-jumping, or death. 

He was the kind of person who smiled in their mugshots.

That was the fool that Connie Springer was waiting on to walk through his door, and that fool was on his way.

Eren was the one leading the rest of the group toward Connie’s house. But, that red, expensive vehicle was zooming down the L.A. streets, engine roaring as he refused to ease off of the gas pedal. 

When Eren flew past a stoplight just as it turned red — other drivers honked at him, and understandably so — Reiner slammed on his brakes, watching Eren’s car fly down the road. 

Looking at his mirror, he saw Jean’s arm hanging out of the driver’s seat window in the car behind him. 

He turned his head to look past Mikasa and through the passenger seat window. Levi was in the car next to him, left waiting at the red light as well. 

He couldn’t see Armin, but he figured that the blonde boy was in the vehicle behind Jean. 

“Eren’s driving too damn fast,” Reiner said, frowning in annoyance. “He left all of us behind. At this rate, he’s either gonna wreck or get pulled over before any of us make it to Connie’s house.”

“I’ll call him and tell him to slow down,” Mikasa said, reaching forward to press the contacts button on the navigation screen.

However, before her black polished finger could touch the screen, a message suddenly flashed across it. 

Reiner’s eyes darted down, and silently, both he and Mikasa read the message that Eren had sent to everyone. 

I’m stopping by my house first to switch cars.

“Is that idiot texting and driving?” Reiner’s frown deepened. 

A frown appeared across Mikasa’s face as well as she asked, “What does he need to switch cars for anyway?”

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, Eren pulled into his massive 15-car garage. He ran to grab another set of car keys and hopped into a different car.

When Eren left his mansion this time, it wasn’t in his sleek red Ferrari, but in his big, black truck. 

—

The sudden, loud crash coming from outside made you hop off of the couch. 

Connie could hear the loud, revving engine, and in his gut, he knew exactly what — or, rather, who — it was.

Even so, he pulled out his phone and checked his outdoor security cameras. 

He clicked to enlarge the screen, witnessing the crystal clear surveillance footage of the chaos taking place at the entrance gate to his home.

His gate no longer existed.

Eren crashed through it with his heavy-duty truck. 

Based on the footage, his vehicle was destroyed, but Eren didn’t care, hoping out of the smoking, damaged vehicle with a bloody nose and a loaded gun, heading for Connie’s front door as the cars belonging to everyone else in the group pulled into the driveway. 

“It’s them, isn’t it?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Connie replied casually, as if an angry mob of people with weapons weren’t currently making their way for him.

“So you were right,” you darted your eyes down to your shoes. “If you knew they’d come, why did you send your little minions away? You would’ve stood a chance if you had your Silent Men with you.”

“Because I don’t want your ass, so why would I put up a fight?” Connie shrugged. “I don’t know what those people see in you, but-” 

“But what?” A soft chuckle escaped from between your lips. “You’re the one who held me hostage, Connie. And now, you suddenly don’t want me? All because your pull-out game was-” “Go to hell. Me locking your ass up was a form of punishment, not because I’m attracted to you like those crazy motherfuckers trying to break in here right now.”

“Right,” you said sarcastically. “So why’d you have sex with me in the first place, then?”

Connie didn’t respond. He stared at you with daggers in his eyes. His cold glare was only interrupted when three gunshots were fired, and the front double doors flew open. 

When storming Connie Springer’s house, Levi Ackerman expected Connie and his Silent Men to be standing in the living room with their weapons drawn.

But, what he saw was nothing of the sort. 

He and everyone else stepped into that enormous, modern room to see you standing there, while Connie sat on the couch, frowning with tired eyes.

“What the hell?” Levi mumbled to himself.

He looked to his right, exchanging a confused look with Armin. 

“What’s going on?” Reiner broke the silence first, staring at you as he spoke. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded with a vexed glare. “None of you should be here. I already told you to leave me alone.”

“We know, but-”

“There’s no way you meant it.” Eren suddenly interrupted Armin, not intentionally, but he couldn’t help it. “There’s no way you want to stay with someone who treated you like shit.”

“Me and Connie are working through it. Besides, it’s none of your business. I’m not married to any of you anymore, so just move on and forget about me.” 

“He really messed with your head, didn’t he?” Eren’s jaw clenched. He turned away from you, looking down at Connie, who had his head in his hand. “Anything you wanna say, Connie?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Eren adjusted the grip on the gun in his right hand. “Because I can’t think of any reason why you don’t deserve a bullet in your fucking skull.”

You suddenly made your way in front of Eren, and when his eyes darted down to you, his gaze softened. 

“Can’t you just back off, Eren? Can’t all of you just back the fuck off? I want to stay here, and I want to be with Connie. If you want me to leave, then you’ll have to drag me away, and at that point, you’re all no better than Connie. You’d all be the ones holding me hostage.”

Everyone was silent. 

No one could say for certain if you were being forced to say such a thing, or if you were suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, or, perhaps, whether or not you truly meant what you said.

But, even if they did manage to successfully get you away from Connie, whether the businessman gave you up freely or if they had to put a bullet through his chest, what next? Who would you go home with, and would everyone respect that decision?

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

It went against your plan of secrecy and put everything you were working hard to build at risk. You didn’t want this many people to know about your pregnancy until you could secure a lifetime of wealth, but maybe, it would send your old lovers back home and away from you forever. If solely telling Levi couldn’t achieve that, then perhaps, telling all of them would.  

“I’m pregnant,” you confessed. 

The look of shock written on everyone’s faces broke your heart more than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t stand the sight of heartbreak glistening in their eyes. Even so, you pushed through it.

“Me and Connie are having a baby. I want to stay with him. He’s going to get therapy, and he’s sorry for all the pain he caused all of you. That’s why he’s not fighting back right now, okay? So, please, just-”

“Why’d you tell me?” Levi suddenly interrupted you. “I don’t get it.”

“You told him?” Connie spoke up, raising his head. “Why?”

Everyone’s eyes were on you, seeking the same answer to Levi’s question, and other questions running rampant in their overwhelmed minds. 

And, there you were, faced with the aftermath of your incredibly stupid decision. 

“I was hoping you’d convince everyone else to leave me alone without also telling everyone my business, but clearly, that didn’t work. I didn’t want to tell everyone because I didn’t want to risk my pregnancy becoming public news before I was ready, but I have no other choice than to tell you all now, so maybe you’d all understand and go away,” you replied, your face expressionless. 

“You’re lying,” Armin’s soft voice made everyone look back at him. “She’s lying.”

You might have been an actress, but Armin was your childhood best friend. 

“No, I’m not.” You shifted awkwardly as you stood there. A chill ran down your spine as you tried to avoid Armin’s invasive gaze. “Listen, I’m sorry to break your hearts, I really am, but please try to understand.” 

But Armin knew. 

Of course, he would.

“Tell the truth,” Armin said. He took a step forward. He stared into your eyes. 

The truth was complicated because nothing was completely true, but nothing was entirely a lie. 

You wanted to stay with Connie and marry into all of his wealth in case your career plummeted. That was true.

You wanted to be rescued and taken away from Connie, who still frightened you, even though you pretended he didn’t. That was also true. 

Two things could be true at once.

“You know what’s funny?” Connie’s voice suddenly caught everyone’s attention. “You’re all breaking into my house with guns, threatening to kill me because I’m the bad guy, right? ‘Cause I control your careers, and I took everyone’s girl. But you’re all on the verge of kidnapping her ass right now. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. One of you idiots was stalking her in the first place, right? Calling her phone? Breaking into her house? Taking pictures of her and Levi?”

“Shut up,” Eren grimaced. “We already pieced it together that it was you. It only makes sense for the person who was stalking her to be the person holding her hostage.”

“Don’t deny it,” Jean added on.

Connie stared up at Eren. 

When he spoke, no one could ignore the unshaken honesty within his voice, as it was devastatingly clear that he wasn’t lying.

“That wasn’t me. That was one of you.”

The entire group stared at each other, confusion written on their faces, and among the individuals, one of them was rather excellent when it came to acting, as they pretended to be just as shocked as everyone else.

Even you had assumed that your stalker was Connie. Just as Eren said, it made sense. 

Connie got off the couch.

“Believe it or not, I don’t want her ass here anymore,” Connie paused. “But we’re gonna have a baby, and apparently, one of you is just as bad as I am, so she’s safer here, as fucked up as that is. So, you guys should figure out who in your weird group is probably keeping female singers in their basement or some shit before you rush into my fucking house again. Now get the hell out.”  

Connie wanted you to get the hell out of his life. He didn’t care how, but he was tired of seeing your perfect little face. That was true.

Connie also wanted you to stay, because you were carrying his baby, and when you weren’t pissing him off, you drove away that devastating feeling of loneliness that almost made him put a bullet through his skull and beat Eren to his wish of shooting him in the head. That was also true.

Two things could be true at once.

“Just go,” you avoided eye contact with any of them. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re all dangerous. Just as dangerous as Connie.”

The group couldn’t argue. Deep within themselves, everyone had a gut feeling that not every individual in their group could be trusted. 

It was the reason why Reiner left their little meeting in Armin’s living room that day — that overwhelming feeling.

As it turns out, he was right all along.

Along with that, if they had killed Connie and forced you out of his home against your will, could they truly say that they were any better than the man they had taken you from?

But, even if you had decided to leave with the group, then the stalker would have had direct access to you. 

Who knows what would happen.

In the end, the group had done the one thing they couldn’t foresee themselves doing: they started to leave.

Not because they had given up — heading out of the door was torture, more painful than any of them could have imagined it would have been — but they left because you insisted upon it, and you weren’t safe anywhere.

But Armin didn’t stay in Los Angeles for nothing.

Levi didn’t lose his job for nothing.  

Jean didn’t ruin his own reputation and friendships for nothing. 

Eren didn’t break through Connie’s gate for nothing.

Reiner didn’t lose his family home for nothing.

This wasn’t over — they were sure of it. 

One way or another, they would come back. They could see it in your eyes, how — despite your words — the former version of yourself that they had all fallen in love with still sought freedom. Still sought love.

But one person was truly finished. They were done fighting.

“Wait, Mikasa.”

The girl paused. Her shoulders stiffened as she froze — the rest of the group had no choice but to move around her on their way out of the broken front doors. 

Mikasa couldn't turn around and face you. Hearing you call her name sent a chill up her spine.

“Why’d you come here?” You questioned, stepping in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at you. “How’d you get caught up in all this?”

Mikasa’s dark eyes were glassy with tears that threatened to fall. 

“Do you really have to ask?” 

You didn’t respond.

Mikasa stared at you for a moment longer, scanned over you with her eyes — trying to look at you one last time — and she walked out of the door as well.

Soon, she’d catch a flight to Bora Bora or Switzerland — any place would work, as long as it wasn’t Los Angeles. She was done with this city. She was done with you; she wasn’t fighting for love to begin with, but for your freedom, and she had lost. 

The adventurous woman would no longer continue to chase a person. She’d go back to chasing the thrill of exploring unknown countries and diverse cultures around the world. 

Even so, as she walked out of that door, the tears that she didn’t want to let fall ended up streaming down her cheeks anyway. 

She didn’t want a romance story with you. Only a fool would dream of having a happy ending with a heartbreaker. But, perhaps, she wanted more good memories with you.

Her heart ached for the old version of you that made everyone laugh while playing cards and drinking beer. She missed who you were before Hollywood destroyed you — before the light in your eyes completely flickered out. 

It was her fault, at the end of the day. She was the one who introduced you to Levi, which, in turn, started all of this. 

Maybe that was why she wanted to save you from the soul-sucking lifestyle that fame and wealth brought. 

She felt silly imagining it, but she often daydreamed about taking you to her favorite countries one day, the two of you creating your own adventure together. 

Hiking through sacred forests. 

Swimming in the ocean with gentle sea animals. 

Taking photos in front of historical locations. 

Trying new foods together, prepared by locals who cooked with love. 

Admiring landmarks until night time would arrive. 

She’d have given you one of her flannels if it had gotten cold, or held your hand for warmth.

Honestly, if you grabbed her wrist as she walked away, and told her that somehow, someway, she was the one you truly loved and wanted to be with, she’d do anything to make it happen.

The idea of raising your baby together even crossed her mind briefly, but she shook away the thought.

As she looked at you one last time, she couldn’t help but wonder why she had hoped for you to end up in her life, even as a friend.

After all, she stood there with her short black hair in a messy low ponytail, wearing an open, faded black denim shirt-jacket — matching her black jeans — and the backpack she always took with her everywhere. 

Meanwhile, you were wearing clothing brands she couldn’t even pronounce, even if technically, thanks to Eren’s money, she could afford them as well. 

Either way, it wasn’t meant to be. As lovers, or as friends.

She couldn’t save the girl from New York with a beautiful voice, terrible cooking skills, and a loud, heartwarming laugh. But she missed her — she missed you.

“Goodbye,” Mikasa turned to face you one last time, smiling sadly.

You gave her a polite smile, one that indicated that you had no idea she meant forever.

Suddenly, you approached her and wrapped your arms around her. 

“Thanks for being such a good friend,” you softly rubbed her back as you hugged her, and she died a little inside. 

She carried a faint scent of dove soap and smoke, and her body was as warm as the cozy herbaceous bonfires that she smelled like. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said.

Mikasa pulled away. She gave you one last smile. 

It was painfully obvious that you concluded that she was only here to try and help out a friend, not free the girl she was painfully in love with. 

Mikasa walked away.

Nothing could ease the pain of feeling unloved, but she’d treasure the memory of having known the old you. 

It certainly was nice. 

But it was time to go now, and for good. 

She wasn’t your one true love, but you were hers.

—

— ONE MONTH LATER —

Every day, every night, Connie Springer watched you, the pregnant woman he was struggling to love, walk around his mansion with sugary words and shifting eyes.

It had driven him to drink, downing glass bottles of alcohol that his poor maid had to toss out constantly.

During both his drunken and sober moments, you were there, wrapping your arms around him and whispering sweet, meaningless words into his ear, telling him how much you needed him to protect you and your baby, how wedding preparations were being made so he would never be lonely again, and about all the horrific secrets you could spill. And if he stopped you from telling them, you happily mentioned how someone else would. 

Being wealthy tended to grant the fortunate the ability to do almost anything and everything. 

That included being able to toss together a luxurious wedding in only a month, whereas a poorer person would have had to wait a year to achieve such organization and class — not that a poorer person would have been able to afford it all to begin with.

The wedding took place in Europe, held in a beautiful historical castle decorated with gorgeous flowers and candle chandeliers.

Your dress alone was more expensive than the average house. The breathtaking ball gown wedding dress graced the camera lens of the respectable paparazzi teams who attended your wedding and would later showcase your memorable event all over every form of mass media. 

Connie was lucky. 

He was getting the chance to marry you, and unlike your last marriages, you both had something that would keep you bound beyond a ring. 

A child.

He had to protect you.

He had to.

He was the only one who could do it.

Even now, as you tried to prepare for your wedding and to give birth in several months, your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Random photographs taken by your stalker would appear across the internet. 

No one could hurt the woman carrying his baby. 

You were like a precious gem. Gorgeous — a sight for sore eyes — and desired by those who were greedy and insatiable. There would always be someone who would want to date you. Someone who would want to be you.

But, right now, there was someone who wanted to harm you, Connie’s sweet little thing, and it wasn’t a stranger, but someone who once smiled in your face and kissed you sweetly. Someone you once trusted.

Connie had to protect you from that person — whoever it was — parading around like an old, heartfelt lover of yours when in reality, they called your phone from an unknown number over and over again. They lurked in the shadows, watching you visit your favorite places. They broke into your house. They stood outside of Levi’s home and took photos of your scandalous one-night stand.

He had to protect you, even if it meant killing every single one of your old lovers.

But, as a start, this was the only way he could keep you safe for now. 

By standing in front of a crowd of prestige guests, exchanging vows that meant he’d get your love and your silence, and you’d get his money and protection.

“I do,” you said happily, blinking up at your newest husband with teary, yet blank, soulless eyes.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

—

— ONTARIO, CANADA —

Every day, it seemed as if Eldian Devils was one scandal away from falling apart as a band. 

Half of it was due to losing Levi as a manager.

Another contributing factor was the fact that the band no longer had a sense of unity. Jean and Eren were at each other’s throats more often than not, videos of their public arguments and — rarely, but notably — fist fights would circulate around the internet at the speed of lightning. 

Connie still tried to punish them for it, too. 

It was pointless — making his Silent Men beat them up until they coughed up blood and then forcing them to sit in the uncomfortable chair of a makeup artist who could skillfully cover the scars and bruises. 

Even when Eren and Jean managed to keep their hands off of each other, they both still would need stitches, bandages, and more makeup, because they weren’t just being punished for not being perfect celebrities. 

They were being punished for breaking into Connie’s house, threatening him with weapons, and potentially being one of your stalkers.

After the night they appeared on The Nights With Flint Show and Connie threatened to hurt Eren’s mom, Eren sent his family — along with Jean’s mom — across the country for safety reasons, just like Levi had sent Erwin and Hange.

That left Connie with no choice but to continue to harm the band members directly.

Not all of the punishments were beatings, either. 

Some of them were vile, inhumane, and undoubtedly a result of Connie’s unjustified and brutal time in adult prison when he was just a teenage boy.

What he had put them through was cruel enough to make both Jean and Eren not believe in a god anymore. And, if there was a god that truly existed, then he would owe them an apology for allowing their suffering to continue.

Eventually, the owner of CS Records just shoved the band on a tour bus at the very last minute and sold their gifted minds and ruined bodies to the screaming fangirls and rock-loving fanboys in the form of high-priced tickets to concerts and meet-and-greets. 

Unlike their forced tours in the past, Eren truly didn’t mind it this time around, mainly because it kept him distracted. 

Those fans of his could easily tell when something was wrong, though.

But that didn’t mean they cared. 

 Most of them only focused on the sweat dripping off of his beautiful skin, the visible veins in his arms that were flexed as he played his guitar, or the way his shoulder-length brown hair would fall out of that low manbun during his shows. However, some of them noticed how he and Jean were always on opposite sides of the stage. 

Or how he could never look out into the crowd whenever they performed the songs they were forced to write about you. 

No one ever said anything. A few concerned fans would post about it on social media — how the Handsome Man seemed to have drastically changed, but no one truly cared about what was going on in his chaotic life.

No one questioned where the bruises decorating his skin had come from, nor the sad look in his emerald eyes. 

No one noticed the physical and mental torture that the beautiful Eren Yeager had gone through, nor the hidden messages within his song lyrics that were a cry for help.

Perhaps, a conspiracy theorist online would take apart his songs if his own record label decided to kill him someday, or if he threw himself off of a bridge like he had thought about doing more often than he’d willingly admit.

Then everyone would cry and whine about not noticing the signs sooner. The big, bright, unavoidable signs.

As long as he wrote decent Billboard charting songs, as long as the world wanted to sleep with him, then nothing else mattered. 

Before performing yet another soulless show, Eren sat on the couch in his dark, spacious backstage dressing room with a cold, wet towel on his forehead. 

He was wearing all-black, grungy clothes, complete with a bit of black eyeliner that made his fans go crazy.

His head was aching terribly. 

His right ear wouldn’t stop ringing from a devastating encounter he had earlier with a group of obnoxious fangirls.

They were waiting outside of his hotel room all day and all night, and when he stepped out of that hotel lobby to sneak into his awaiting vehicle and head to tonight’s arena, the screams erupted. But that was nothing compared to the mob of people rushing toward him. 

The fact that his “security team” was made up of Connie’s Silent Men — people who were hired to hurt him — certainly didn’t help either. 

As long as they didn’t kill him, no one cared about who put their hands on Eren.

With a small sigh, Eren leaned forward and grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Aspirin sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He dumped a few of the tiny circular pills into his hand — not bothering to count how many — and tossed them into his mouth.

Suddenly, three gentle knocks occurred at the door of his dressing room, which Eren found odd, as most people just walked in. 

“Come in,” he called out softly.

The door opened, and Jean entered.

The last time Eren had seen him, they were arguing over a pointless chord progression in a pointless song.

“The hell do you want?” Eren said, but not with an angry tone, but rather, an exhausted one.

Jean shut the door behind him with one hand. With the other, he held a big burrito wrapped in foil. 

“I brought you some food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Eren,” Jean sighed, rolling his eyes a bit — at least, as best as he could with an enormous bruise around it. “I know you haven’t eaten anything, man. I know it’s hard, but can you at least try?” Eren didn’t move. Nor did he say a word.

“If you don’t eat, then your ass will just end up passing out right on stage, and then Connie will-”

“Give it here,” Eren interrupted.

Jean passed his bandmate the burrito, and he sat down in a chair next to the couch. 

“I put everything you like in it. Rice, beef, lettuce-”

“Did you put guacamole?” 

“Hell no,” Jean grinned gently as Eren unwrapped his food. “I know you can’t stand it.”

“Okay. Good. I was just testing you.”

Eren took a small bite of the stuffed burrito. He was pleasantly surprised that not only did Jean remember what he did and didn’t like, but also to ask for extra sour cream. 

A small grin almost graced Eren’s face as he thought about how, despite everything, Jean still remembered those little details, but then again, Connie remembered little things about Eren too, such as how he liked to drink coffee.

“Don’t be surprised if I’m not around once the show’s over,” Jean suddenly said.

His tone was humorous as he spoke, but Eren noticed the unshakable fear and worry visible within the man’s eyes — even if his right pupil was blown.

“What do you mean?” Eren recovered his burrito — three bites was more than enough right now.

“You know I can’t do the show with you tonight. They can cover my black eye with makeup, but they can’t do shit about my blown pupil. If people see it, they might start asking questions. So, since the band is one member short, they’re gonna issue free merchandise or discounts or something, especially for the people who paid for a meet-and-greet. I basically fucked up the entire night for everyone, and I just . . . wouldn’t be surprised if I get killed over this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Eren frowned. “Why would Connie’s men kill you for an injury they gave you? And how do they expect you to get better if they won’t let you fucking rest? If you’re not performing, you should be in your hotel room sleeping.” 

“Yeah, well . . .”

Jean didn’t need to finish his sentence. It was silly to expect CS Records to let Jean recover from an injury they caused. 

For a moment, the two bandmates sat in silence, internally debating whether or not Connie would actually take their lives someday.

Then, Jean spoke.

“You think she knows what he’s doing to us?” He asked hesitantly. It was a question that was bothering him, but also a question he truly didn’t want an answer to.

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t,” Eren spoke rather casually, easily able to hide the pain he felt whenever you appeared in his cluttered mind. “She knows how he’s always treated us. Only difference now is she’s not getting mistreated either. Guess she lied when she said he was gonna get therapy. That, or his therapist is doing a shit job.”

“But Eren,” Jean’s voice was haunting as he spoke, filled with terror that Eren understood all too well. “He’s never treated us this badly before. Some of the shit he’s done goes beyond any . . . any beating or publicity stunt. You know that. There’s no way she’d let him do all of this to us.”

Eren leaned back on the couch, placing the towel back over his head as he folded his arms across his chest. “You wanna tell her? You think that’ll make a difference?”

“No, I guess not. Considering someone has been stalking her and we don’t know who, I bet she wouldn’t lift a finger to help any of us.” Jean paused. “That reminds me. Is everyone else doing alright? Or are they suffering like we are?”

“It’s mainly just us, far as I know,” Eren shrugged. “Connie can only do so much considering they don’t work for CS Records. Mikasa’s left the country, but she’s safe. Reiner moved his country-ass family somewhere Connie can’t find them, and he’s hired his own bodyguards. Uh . . . I think Connie’s kinda scared of Levi, because that man’s actually crazy as hell when you think about it, and Armin just has nothing to lose. He doesn’t have any family or meaningful career for Connie to target, and I guess if Connie wanted to kill him, he would’ve done it by now. Guess he just doesn’t see him as a threat.”

Jean chuckled in disbelief.

“What shit have we gotten ourselves into?”

“I don’t know, but I hope it’ll be over soon,” Eren said. 

Looking down at his watch, Jean got out of the chair. He started to leave the room.

“I hope so too,” Jean mumbled as he walked out of the door. “I’ll see you later. Have a nice show.”

—

— LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA —

Most nights, Armin Arlert walked home alone after his exhausting work shifts as a waiter. It was a short distance away, and the gas was rather high. 

His feet ached terribly. The corners of his mouth were often sore from flashing customer-service-friendly grins all day long in hopes of receiving a decent tip. 

Unlike the wealthy celebrities he had gotten to know lately, the blonde-haired boy lived in one of the more dangerous neighborhoods in Los Angeles.

No one had bothered him yet, truth be told. He was wise enough to walk down the street with his head hung low, maintain personal space, and not stare at anyone for too long. 

Eren and Levi were more worried for his safety than he was.

It didn’t matter where Eldian Devils were performing that night — in Japan, Australia, France, or anywhere — Eren would always check in on his new best friend, making sure that he had gotten home safely. 

Sometimes he’d call. Other times, he’d send a quick text message.

But he’d always reach out. 

Armin often chalked it up to another attempt at trying to ease the guilt of ruining his relationship with you, just as he did whenever Eren tried to give him money or a house.

Either way, it was nice to have a friend. 

As Armin’s apartment came into view, his phone dinged, undoubtedly a text message from Eren.

The former New Yorker wasn’t stupid enough to pull out his phone and check it now — as anyone could decide to shove a gun in his face for it, even if it was a cheap little piece of technology.

Armin made his way into his cold, tiny apartment, locking the doors behind him. When he turned around, he saw that his favorite blanket was draped messily along the couch, and his opened copy of The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton had tumbled to the ground. 

He was running late for work this morning, as he had gotten caught up in his novel, and because he spent the night worrying about Eren. 

His friend looked absolutely miserable in every photo that had popped up online during his tour. It made him wonder what CS Records was doing to him and Jean, and why no one bothered to ask any questions.

With a small sigh, Armin pulled his phone out of his back pocket, and when the contact name that had appeared on his screen wasn’t Eren’s, a lump of worry started to form in his throat.

That was, at least, until he noticed that it was you who had texted him.

It must have been some sort of trap. It must have been a trick. What could you possibly want after pushing everyone away? Did it have something to do with that look of regret in your eyes when everyone walked out of the door that day? 

Armin read the text message. 

Meet me at the motel. 

He frowned. He knew exactly what motel you had meant. After all, he knew you. But he didn’t appreciate your lack of greeting or any other information that could have made all of this less frightening. 

Only a fool would trust Connie Springer’s wife, right?

Armin leaned against his front door, and he texted back.

Why?

He glanced away from his phone, assuming that he wouldn’t receive a response immediately, but as soon as his eyes darted away from the screen, his phone dinged again.

Because I need to talk to you.

Just as he was getting ready to respond, you sent him another message.

I made a big mistake.

— SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER —

When one lived in a rather enormous house, walking around it constantly was often exhausting, especially when trying to locate something lost. 

While trying to find you, Connie had gotten in an entire workout session without needing to go into his two-story home gym.

He sighed in frustration as he paused in the hallway. 

You were someone who followed a daily schedule, whether intentionally or unintentionally, he couldn’t tell, but around this late afternoon hour, you were typically in the pool, or enjoying the recreational activities within the pool house.

Connie had walked through the pool house twice. You weren’t there, nor were you in the pool itself. 

Were you hiding from him?

He did notice that you often disappeared whenever the alcohol bottles were handed to him as if it wasn’t you who had driven him to drink this much.

But, right now, he was sober and simply wanted to check in on the pregnant wife he both loved and despised. 

As Connie leaned against the wall, he raised his fist to his lips, his cold, black ring touching his skin. After taking a moment to think, he hadn’t seen you at all today. Not at breakfast, even though French toast, eggs, and fruit were prepared.

Not when workers were moving furniture into the new nursery — Connie thought that it was too early to decorate, but you were rather excited. 

So, with that knowledge, Connie made his way to your bedroom. 

Just as he approached your door, one of his staff members stepped out of your room.

It was Lacy, a young woman with brown hair who was hired to look after you and make sure both you and your baby were in great health.

“Something wrong?” Connie asked.

The woman pulled down her face mask with her gloved hand. Her green eyes were shiny with worry — but one could only guess if it was related to your health, or because she was talking the Connie Springer.

“She, um . . . she has the flu.” The woman awkwardly adjusted her bag of medical supplies across her shoulder, her fingers fidgeting with the straps. “I’d like to keep a close eye on her if that’s alright. Pregnant women are at higher risk for other serious illnesses if they catch the flu.”

“Fine. Pick a guest room.” 

Connie started to open the door, but the doctor suddenly said, “Wait, don’t go in there yet.”

She pulled a face mask out of her brown leather bag and handed it to him.

“You should wear a mask along with everyone else in this house. I’d also recommend temporarily reducing your staff. I’d like to check everyone’s temperature, because someone here gave it to her, more than likely.”

“Do what you gotta do.”  Connie put on the face mask and stepped into your bedroom. 

It was truly a wonder — how you knew Connie had entered your bedroom without looking over your thick cream-colored comforter. 

It wasn’t his cologne, which was never overpowering, nor was it the sound of his footsteps, but perhaps, the shiver that ran up your spine once the door opened — a shiver that wasn’t caused by the flu.

The small space on the side of your bed, next to your bent legs, dipped as Connie sat there.

“I knew something was wrong,” Connie looked down at you. “But I didn’t know if you were just avoiding me. I guess you’re always doing that though, right? Considering we don’t even share the same fucking bedroom. You can’t stand the sight of me, can you?”

Connie reached out, placing a hand against your sweaty cheek. 

“Go away,” you mumbled weakly.

“I guess I should let you rest,” Connie ran his thumb across your quivering lips. “The doctor said pregnant women and the flu are a bad combination. She didn’t give me that much detail, but I’m guessing our baby could die. You could die. Who knows.”

“And I’m guessing you’d like that.”

Connie didn’t respond immediately. 

He was conflicted, those two opposing parts of him sending mixed signals to his mind.

The lonely part of him that loved you, that wanted to protect you from your stalker and other threats in your unholy world, well, it made him want to rent out an entire hospital for you and get on his hands and knees and pray for your recovery. 

The part of him that hated you, that wanted you six feet under, was hoping your flu would progress into something more serious. Then, you’d get out of his life for good without him having to get his hands dirty.

“I think I’d be happy either way,” he said emotionlessly. 

Connie pulled down his face mask. He leaned over, and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, one that could have him lying in his own bed with your illness as well.

But he didn’t care.

Connie pulled away, mumbling against your lips, “Get some rest. Or don’t. I don’t give a damn.”

As Connie started to leave the bedroom, he looked back at you as he stepped through the doorway, and he said, “Just remember that if our baby doesn’t survive, I don’t have any use for you anymore.”

Connie shut the door. 

You were left with nothing but his words running through your clouded mind, and you could only guess what that meant. 

Divorce, or murder. 

Having all the money in the world wasn’t worth the fear. 

There was an element of danger that you didn’t consider when trying to force yourself into that abundance of wealth associated with the Springer name, and it was the fact that, assuming you and your baby pulled through your pregnancy, Connie would certainly end your life if he found out he wasn’t the father.

With your history of relationships, he would be an utter fool not to ask for a DNA test. 

Or, what if the baby came out as a spitting image of his father? 

What if . . .

What if . . .

What if . . .

Your new husband was too dangerous, even though your manipulative plan worked. It only made him someone to be feared even more, which was something you didn’t foresee.

The money wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth your life.

With a trembling arm, you grabbed your phone off of your nightstand and opened your contacts. It didn’t take long to find the one person you wanted to reach, whose first and last name both started with an “A,” and was, perhaps, the perfect person to go to for comfort.

Maybe it was stupid.

Maybe Armin was your stalker, just like you suspected a while ago.

He fit the mold of one — you broke his heart. He knew your old address without you telling him. He refused to leave Los Angeles and go back to New York.

But the same could be said about any of your old lovers, truthfully. They were all heartbroken. They all refused to leave you alone at one point. They all knew where you used to live. 

Either way, with Connie’s threatening words looming over your head, you rested your trembling hand against your stomach, and you pressed Armin’s contact.

—

Armin arrived at the devastatingly familiar motel. Cheap and rather old-fashioned, but a bittersweet feeling ran through his veins as he stared up at the building. It was the same motel you both stayed at a long time ago, the day he first brought you to Los Angeles.

At the time, it was better than sleeping in the car.

After confirming that he was standing outside of the right room by glancing down at your recent text message repeatedly, he knocked softly at the door.

A wave of relief washed over him when that raggedy wooden door slowly opened — and it was just you.

As soon as he sighed and stepped into the tiny, yellowish, dated room that hadn’t seen a spec of cosmetic work in decades, his big blue eyes scanned over you, and the corners of his mouth fell into a frown. His eyes then darted to the backpack in the corner of the room.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well.” 

“I’m not,” you said through your face mask. 

You sat down on the edge of the squeaky bed, and Armin took the spot next to you.

“I have the flu,” you admitted.

“Oh.” Glancing down at his feet, Armin said, “Is that why you texted me?”

“No.” You turned your head and looked at Armin with red, exhausted eyes. “I just . . . I don’t know. I made a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have married Connie.”

“You just wanted to have a family with the father of your child. I understand that.”

“He’s not the father,” You gave Armin a knowing look. “You of all people should know that.”

“Then why’d you-”

“Money,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was going to ask: Why did you marry him?

“Connie has the kind of wealth that most celebrities will never achieve, especially ones who get pregnant and are mainly known for their scandals more than anything else. So, I just tried to trick him into thinking that this was his baby, and manipulated him into marrying me. I know that makes me a horrible person, but after what he put me through, I guess I just wanted some revenge.”

“What changed?” Armin asked softly — and, god, you missed that voice of his. “What made you regret your decision?”

A look of fear flashed across your face. 

“He’s a dangerous man, and what I’ve done — what all of us have done, actually — has only made him worse. There’s no point in having any money if I’m too dead to spend it.” You paused. “It’s like he’s losing his mind, you know? One second, he wants me gone, and the next . . . he’s willing to hunt all of you down just to protect me-”

You erupted into a fit of dry coughs. Armin worriedly placed a hand on your back.

“You should lay down,” Armin said. 

“I’m fine,” you sniffled. “Anyway, I’m telling you all of this because . . . I’m leaving Los Angeles.”

Armin’s ocean eyes widened a bit.

“Really? Where are you going?”

“Wherever you’ll take me.”

“You-” Armin abruptly cut his sentence short, as he was in a state of shock. “Me? Why me?”

You started coughing once again. Armin started to rub your back with his hand. His worried frown deepened.

“I know I’m not mother or wife material,” you said once your coughing fit ended, “ but I want my baby, and I can’t raise a kid in Hollywood. That place is evil. Look what it did to me. I’d rather go back to New York, work in that bakery, and split sandwiches with you.”

“No.” 

You were starting to shiver. Armin wrapped his arms around you. 

“Being a celebrity in Hollywood or being a baker in New York aren’t your only options. We can go wherever you want, and with all the connections you have now, I bet you could become a very successful writer without the fuss of also being super famous. That was your dream, wasn’t it? Where would you like to go?”

You thought about one of the moments in your bittersweet life in which you were truly happy.

It was when you visited Tennessee with Reiner’s family. You missed that man, as he truly treated you well, but as you thought about the pain your existence had caused his loving family, who had their family home burned down by Silent Men and were forced to relocate across the country, you had to let your love for Reiner Braun go.

But, you didn’t have to let go of the memories. 

In the South, having a plate stuffed with warm food was normal. Most people were so polite — so welcoming. Loving. 

“Maybe . . . the South. I think I like the South. I’m not sure what state, but I just wanna get out of here.”

“Okay,” a soft grin graced Armin’s face. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Armin pulled the covers of the bed back, and he helped you lay down as he recovered your shivering body.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled. 

Your childhood friend started to walk away, getting ready to make an uncomfortable sleeping spot for himself on the floor when suddenly, you called his name.

“Armin?” You said weakly.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled softly once again. “And I’m sorry for bringing you to Los Angeles. I’ll make up for it by being the one who helps you leave.”

“Okay,” a weak, but wholesome smile graced your face. “Well, I’ll make up for what I did by loving you properly this time.”

Armin smiled happily, blushing a bit as he looked down at the ground. 

At that moment, Armin had hoped the flu shot he had received would protect him, as he couldn’t help but lean down, and kiss your cheek softly. 

Afterward, with the excitement over the chance to start anew yet again both running through your veins, you both drifted off to sleep.

—

The sky was a beautiful canvas of purple, orange, and blue as the sun hadn’t yet risen entirely. It was an early morning hour when Armin’s eyes shot open. 

He was awakened by the sound of painful groaning.

Startled, he pushed himself off of the ground, and fumbled around in the dark room, hoping his fingers would run across a light switch.

Once the worn-out light flickered on, the first thing he saw was blood. 

It coated the beige sheets that you had yanked off of your body. 

It covered your trembling hands and thighs.

What frightened him even more than the blood was your appearance. Sweat coated the parts of your skin that weren’t covered in blood. Your chest fell and rose unevenly as if it were painful to breathe. Groans of pain fell from between your lips, which only stopped whenever a coughing fit had occurred. 

Your stomach was cramping horrifically. Armin could tell based on the way you were curled up in a circle, your hands against your stomach. 

When he rushed over and touched your shoulder, you suddenly vomited off the side of the bed. 

Your skin was burning up underneath his fingertips, and your own fingertips — as well as your lips — had started to turn to a bluish shade. 

Armin didn’t waste any time trying to get you to speak and tell him what was wrong. 

He scooped you up and took you to the emergency room.

—

Armin sat in the spacious, light brown waiting room of the hospital with your blood on his clothes. And that blood had told him what had happened before the doctor did. 

You lost your baby. 

Armin could hear your cries from the waiting room.

The doctor told Armin the news with a pained look in his eyes, assuming that he was the father as he went on and on about the flu, infections such as pneumonia, and admitting you into the hospital as a patient so you could be treated right away.

Armin couldn’t begin to process the knowledge that he could lose you too, not when the big, crowded waiting room had started to slowly become infiltrated with invasive fans and paparazzi, all of whom wanted to locate your whereabouts, or at the very least, bombard Armin with questions.

Hours later, police officers had to rush to the hospital and control the crowd, holding back groups of emotional men and women standing in the nauseatingly bright, white hallways.

Your name — and what was happening to you — became headlining news rather instantly.

Night time had arrived. There wasn’t any news. 

Armin was still sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the now blocked-off waiting room, all by himself, worry consuming him as he could hear the loud shouts and irritating voices of police officers going back and forth with the fans and paparazzi a few feet away.

That was when Connie stepped into the waiting room with two of his Silent Men.

Armin’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. For a while, the two of them simply stared at each other. Connie’s face was unreadable.

“Is she dead?” Connie casually asked.

“No,” Armin replied nervously. “She’s not dead, but the baby . . . uh, your baby . . . didn’t make it. Y/N’s sick with an inf-”

“What are you doing here?” Connie suddenly interrupted, yawning. “You brought her to the hospital? Were you with her? Or are you her damn stalker, and found out she was here?”

Armin didn’t know how to respond to such a drastic accusation, but the truth was no better. Both potential answers were too dangerous to give.

“We weren’t together,” Armin lied. “I guess she forgot to change her emergency contact because the hospital called me for some reason, and I don’t have your number, so I just showed up.”

Connie stared at Armin coldly. The waiter couldn’t tell if the entrepreneur bought his story or not. 

“Well, I’m here now, so get the hell out of here.” Connie paused. “If I ever see you come around her again, I’ll kill you, okay?”

—

Two weeks had passed.

Despite being in the hospital, Connie hadn’t stepped into your room at all.

The nurses had told you that your husband was in the waiting room — having a deadly, contagious infection was the reason why, according to the kind nurses who tried to comfort you about not being able to see him, but you knew the truth. 

He didn’t give a damn about you. 

And you were allowed to have visitors three days ago when your doctor no longer deemed you as contagious. 

He was only here to scare off anyone else who might have given a damn about you, not to see you himself.

By now, the medication that the doctors had pumped you with had started to work. The news of both your illness and your miscarriage resulted in an overwhelming amount of support and love from your fans and disrespectful theories about who the father could have been from your haters.

Not everyone bought the story that it belonged to CS Records owner, Connie Springer.

Laying in your hospital bed with fuzzy blue socks on your feet and an IV in your arm, reruns of Family Feud continuously played on your television. You chuckled softly at one of Steve Harvey’s dirty jokes.

Someone suddenly knocked on your door. 

It wasn’t the quick, friendly knock that doctors and nurses often did, but rather, the knock of someone trying to be discreet. 

“Come in,” you said, grabbing the remote and muting the television.

Eren walked through the door.

“Eren?” Your eyes widened at the sight of him. “What are you doing here? How’d you get in here?”

“Had to sneak by some people and pay others,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“What about your tour?”

Eren walked over and sat on the side of your bed.

“I found a jet as soon as I heard you were in the hospital. Those bastards tried to keep the news from me — took my phone away and everything. But I don’t care about that fucking tour,” Eren smiled sadly. “I know what you said about wanting all of us to go away, but I had to see if you were okay.”

You smiled at the Handsome Man, but as you really looked at him, and ran your eyes across his entire body, your grin slowly faded. “Are you okay?”

He was more pale than usual. Thinner than he was when you had last seen him. And, of course, there were bruises and scratches across the pieces of skin that weren’t covered with black clothes or a couple of tattoos.

“Are you?” He deflected.

Your frown only deepened. Your baby was gone. You were filled with fear over what that could have meant for you. Every night, you cried yourself to sleep about it. By now, you were practically out of tears.

“I was . . . gonna run away from Connie, but then I got sick,” you admitted. “I made a huge mistake by pushing all of you away. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t love any of you, but really, I love all of you. You, Armin, Reiner, Levi . . . even Jean, in a way.” 

“You love me?” Eren smiled sweetly, warmth spreading across his cheeks. Then, suddenly, his smile faded.

“Do you know what he’s been up to?” Eren looked down at the floor. His jaw clenched. “You know what he’s been doing to me and Jean?”

“No,” you furrowed your brows in confusion. “What are you-”

Suddenly, your nurse knocked on your door and opened it. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but you arrived pretty late, Mister Yeager. Visiting hours are over, I’m sorry. Please come back tomorrow.”

Eren nodded and turned his attention back to you. For a brief moment, the light in his eyes that had vanished long ago returned, and he stared at you softly and lovingly. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Eren placed his hand on your cheek, running his thumb across it. He leaned in and kissed your lips as gently as he could. 

Eren left both your room and the hospital. As he did so, stepping through those automatic exit doors, Connie was watching him.

—

Getting discharged from the hospital a few days later was like losing your freedom. 

You were rather shocked when Connie picked you up from the hospital that night, considering how he insisted upon you being worthless to him if there wasn’t a baby. 

But, either way, he helped you into the car, holding onto the plastic bag filled with your belongings such as your toiletries, clothes, and your cell phone.

He shut your door and walked to the driver’s side.

Tomorrow night, you planned on trying it all over again: messaging Armin and running away with him.

But, tonight, you’d go home with your despicable husband.

Connie was quiet as he drove down the L.A. streets. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked worriedly, looking at the side of his unreadable face.

He didn’t respond.

He only clenched the steering wheel, and thought about two things: your old lovers, and the little fact that the doctor had shared with him — you were at least eight weeks pregnant at the time of your miscarriage. 

That rough estimate of how far along you were revealed to your dear husband that he was not the father. 

Connie suddenly made a few unfamiliar turns, and eventually, you realized that he was not taking you home.

—

“How have you never had one before? Slushies are the best shit ever. You’ve been missing out.”

Eren sipped on his cold red beverage as he walked down the street with Armin.

They had spent the entire day together, hanging around Eren’s mansion and enjoying each other’s company. 

“On rare occasions in which I could afford something sweet growing up, I always grabbed a pecan roll. So I guess I never bothered to try anything else.” Armin grinned as he mixed around his thick blue treat with his straw.

“A pecan roll?” Eren grimaced playfully. “You act like a seventy-year-old man sometimes. You probably like Raisin Bran too, don’t you?”

“It’s not bad,” Armin smiled, but then, his grin faded away slowly.

“What’s wrong?” Eren asked.

“Nothing, I’m alright-”

“No, you’re not. I know that face. ” 

“Well,” Armin looked down at his feet as he walked slowly. “I was just wondering if the only reason the two of us are friends now is because you’re still trying to make up for what you did. I mean, do you honestly enjoy hanging out with me?”

“Yeah. Is that so hard to believe?” Eren frowned a bit as he spoke. “I wanted your forgiveness, but I didn’t befriend you for that reason. Would be kinda stupid to do that considering we’re still both chasing after the same woman. We’re friends because we’re friends.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Armin’s smile returned once again.

Armin couldn’t say for certain whether or not you would both try to leave Los Angeles once again, but he had hoped that his friendship with Eren would last no matter how far apart they were. 

After all, the two of them had recently purchased plane tickets to the Bahamas — Eren’s decision after he had learned the other boy had never truly been on a real vacation. 

As Armin thought about what the vacation might be like, an engine roared in the distance as a car sped down the street in their direction, the headlights bright and distracting.

Eren stopped walking and turned around. 

Armin — who hadn’t turned around yet, noticed Eren’s face change from a comforting smile to a look of horrific dread.

Eren recognized that car.

There wasn’t enough time to react. By the time Armin had turned around to see what made his friend so visibly upset, Connie Springer had opened his car door.

He pulled out his gun and shot Armin in the chest.

As the hot lead poured through his body, he fell over, dropping his slushie. Eren caught him as best as he could, lowering him to the ground gently. 

Blood gushed from his mouth — rendering him speechless — but his big, sad, and panicked eyes stared into Eren’s, and told him that he wasn’t ready to go. He didn’t want to die. 

“What the hell?” Eren shouted. 

His hands were soaked in blood.

Instantly, he was a teenage boy again, trying to scoop up bloodied pieces of Marco’s internal organs — pieces of his body that weren’t stuck to the road or the tire belonging to the car that hit him — and put him back together.

Marco was already dead. He had transitioned from that life and into the next before Eren even made it down the hill that day. 

But Armin was still alive. 

He could be saved. 

He could be . . .

Armin suddenly coughed up blood. It spewed from his mouth, painting his lips and chin red, and he started to gag on it.

Eren wanted to tell his friend every single word that ran through his mind: 

“Hold on just a little longer, I’ll call for help.” 

“Don’t die. We still have to go on that trip together.” 

“Don’t die, please don’t die. Just stay with me.”

But Eren couldn’t say a word, as his throat had dried to a crisp. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see two people moving frantically. He could hear your voice. Your cries. 

You were trying to snatch Connie’s gun away from him.

Eren pulled out his phone with a trembling, bloody hand. He opened the dial screen.

One day, Armin’s hands wouldn’t be scratched up from working excessive heavy labor jobs.

They wouldn’t be covered in his own blood either. 

They would be wrapped around a glass of piña colada as he relaxed on a beautiful beach in The Bahamas.

Eren promised.

Armin was too young to die, and he couldn’t die like this, bleeding out on the cold and dirty concrete from a painful gunshot wound.

No.

Eren refused to watch someone else die in front of him.

As Eren’s thumb pressed the nine on the keypad, a bullet blasted through his phone, through his index and middle finger, and lastly, through his chest.

You opened your car door. 

You couldn’t say for certain whether or not you walked toward them, or if you ran, but you fell to your knees beside the two bleeding bodies.

Hot tears clouded your vision. Anger and sadness fogged your mind. With trembling hands, you tried to cover both the wound in Armin’s chest and the wound in Eren’s, but you couldn’t stop the bleeding. 

You couldn’t stop their suffering.

You couldn’t even tell if they were both still alive.

You had only managed to soak your hands and clothes in their blood — your tears splattering onto their warm skin. 

Eren Yeager didn’t deserve to die either. 

He deserved peace — to be free from the suffocating spotlight for even just a day, and to smile without it being photographed for the obnoxious mass media. 

All he had ever known was pain and performances.

Connie stepped away from his car and approached you with his gun aimed at your head.

“I didn’t plan on shooting you too,” Connie mumbled lowly. “But watching you cry and run over to these two bastards has pissed me off. And trying to wrestle me for a gun — are you fucking crazy?”

Even if you wanted to beg for your life, you couldn’t. Speaking was a skill you had lost as soon as he fired that second bullet.

Connie looked into your sad, teary eyes with his dark, emotionless ones.

“Stay the hell out of my life, you hear me? I don’t want you as a wife. I don’t want you as an artist. If I see your face again, I’ll put a bullet through it.”

And, with that, he lowered his gun. He got back into his car and sped away.

Maybe it was idiotic to leave a witness alive. He’d blame the part of himself that loved you a little, the human part that still existed, that instantly regretted firing a bullet through his childhood friend. That couldn’t stand the look of horror in your eyes.

But logically, it truly didn’t matter. Whether or not you were dead or alive, everything would come back to him either way.

He, at the very least, could count on Levi Ackerman to make sure of it. 

Your loud, uncontrollable sobs erupted once Connie was truly gone. 

You patted your own body with your blood-soaked hands, attempting to find your phone. 

It was in Connie’s car.

You shifted over a bit in Eren’s direction, who was lying on his stomach. 

You had to roll him over with your shaky arms and grab his phone from underneath his bleeding body. Your sobs made your ears ring.

His phone was destroyed by the bullet, half of the black device was missing while what remained was shattered and cracked all the way through. 

There was no one else around who could help you, nothing surrounding you except complete and utter darkness.

Your knees scraped against the sidewalk as you shifted your body once again, facing Armin, and desperately, thoroughly, you searched his limp body for his phone. 

When your fingers wrapped around the device in the pocket of his pants, you dialed 911 with shaky hands and spoke to the operator with a shrieking, croaking voice.

—

It took about eight minutes for an ambulance and a team of police officers to arrive. During that time, you couldn’t do anything except watch the two of them bleed out. 

Watch them both die.

That next hour seemed as if someone else was living it, as if you weren’t inside of your own body. Blue and red lights were constantly flashing. Teams of paramedics gently tossed their bodies on stretchers and loaded them into the back of their ambulances. 

They were rushed to the hospital, while you were taken to the police station.

Your clothes and skin were soaked in blood, including your hospital bracelet. 

That was all that mattered — that was all that you could feel — their blood on your body.

The police questioned you inside of a grey, lifeless room for what felt like an eternity. 

And you told them the truth.

You told them that they were shot by Connie Springer.

You couldn’t say for certain what would happen next — to you, or him, or Eren, or Armin. All you could think about was the blood on your body.

There was no greater suffering than not knowing what was happening with those two, and not being able to sit by their side. 

Not knowing what would happen.

When you were allowed to leave, you were greeted outside of the police station by flashing lights from an uncountable amount of cameras, and you were bombarded with horrific questions as microphones were shoved in your face.

All you could do was stand there and think about the blood on your body.

Suddenly, a man pushed through the crowd of soulless individuals. 

It was Levi. 

When you made eye contact with him, a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said softly. Microphones were only inches away from his face, attempting to pick up the conversation between you both.

As he placed an arm around you and led you to his car, more cameras flashed. 

The car ride with Levi was a silent one, and you were thankful for that. He cast a few concerned glances your way, but you could only stare out of the window and think about the blood.

His car pulled into that driveway of his modern mansion with a sophisticated black exterior, and he helped you inside, as your legs were insanely wobbly from recovering from your illness, and the recent trauma. 

Despite the chilly, sterile, and sleek atmosphere of Levi’s home, stepping into it again felt like a small piece of your soul had been returned. 

You felt safe.

Truth be told, Levi had planned on selling his home while he was staying with Hange, but as he saw the heartbreaking look of relief wash over your face once you stepped through his front doors, he was glad he didn’t. 

“You should get cleaned up,” he said, shutting the front door behind you.

“I don’t think . . ." You couldn’t finish your sentence. Not with the way a sob was always everpresent, and the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.

“I can help you. It’s okay.” Levi responded because he knew exactly what you were trying to say: that you didn’t have the energy or the nerves to do it yourself. 

To wash off their blood.

Levi ran a warm bath to help break up the blood that had dried against your skin. He’d help you shower afterward as well, but for now, this was easier.

He collected your soaked, red-stained clothes and threw them away.

Once he helped you into his jetted bathtub, he poured some body wash onto a new, spare loofah and started to scrub your arm.

You both sat in silence, the only noise that could be heard was the sound of the soap suds spreading across your skin.

As he ran the loofah across your thighs, the water started to turn red. 

He drained it and refilled the tub with more warm water.

Tears rolled down your cheeks again. He didn’t say a word. He knew you didn’t want him to.

“It was yours,” you suddenly said, your voice cracking as you spoke. “The baby. It was yours. That was why I told you.”

“I know.”

You turned your head, frowning as the tears continued to fall.

“You knew?” You sniffled. “Then why’d you disappear? Why didn’t you say or . . . or do anything?”

“Because you wanted to be rich, and I wanted you to be happy,” Levi replied softly. “I’m sorry for disappearing. I won’t do it ever again. I promise.” 

Suddenly, Levi’s phone started to ring. He would have ignored it — taking care of you was more important — but in his gut, he knew that he needed to answer.

He got up and walked toward the sink, and grabbed his phone. 

He looked at the caller ID.

“It’s the hospital,” he announced, tapping his phone to answer the call. 

“Hello?” he said. 

As he spoke, your heart sank.

Levi’s face shifted into a look of complete and utter despair. 

He made eye contact with you, and those eyes of his — filled with sorrow — made you want to lay down in the tub, and drown yourself to stop the pain that started to overwhelm your body.

At first, Levi was told decent news, that one of your lovers had pulled through surgery, but he wasn’t out of the woods just yet, as he was in a coma.

The same could not be said for the other person.

Your other beloved had succumbed to his injuries on the operating table. 

There was nothing they could do to save his life.

You knew exactly who it was without hearing the rest of Levi’s phone call, and you couldn’t breathe, choking on your own sobs.

If Eren Yeager had died, the hospital would have called his mother, not Levi Ackerman.

But . . . Armin Arlert’s emergency contact was Levi Ackerman. 

He didn’t have anyone else.

When Levi hung up the phone, he reached across the bathtub, and wrapped his arms around you, trying his hardest to console the inconsolable.

But there was nothing anyone could do.

That kind-hearted, hard-working boy had passed away.

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

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