#where the hell is zeke

[erudianokabe]

BESTIE WITH HIS TWO DADS.

Mine and @zahyou's OLD MEN AS DRINKING BUDDIES. CANON. OUR HC IS -BANGS HANDS ON TABLE- CANON!

Anyway, full pic.

HAVE YOU GOTTEN YOUR TICKETS, CADETS? If y'all got your tickets, see you at the after party~ ❤️

[yanderenightmare]

step daddy puts you in you place. your place being on his fat cock. please 😩

TW: stepcest, nsfw, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, size-difference, age-difference, Daddy kink

gn reader - fem labels (princess)

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 

He should have been strict with you from the very start. But... then he wouldn't reach what satisfaction dethroning a spoiled princess gives. The whole point is for you to show regret and remorse – repent your sins – or else you’ll have learned nothing. 

In the end, you’ll wish you’d made different choices – been more grateful for all he gave you instead of just taking his goodwill and kind patience for granted.

Before you even know what’s happening, before your spoiled-rotten mind can even comprehend where your bitchy attitude has landed your bratty ass, it’s already too late for apologies. 

But, hell... it would have been no fun in making you kneel if you didn't fight back just a smidge – if you didn’t tire yourself out and look up at him with that adorable scornful scowl – so pouty and grumpy with so many vicious obscenities on your tongue, where you deserve nothing but having your potty-mouth washed clean of all nasty protests and filthy comments along with a good thorough reminder of who’s in charge.

Poor little brat, you didn't know what you had coming, did you? Completely oblivious to the fact that your useless fists and aimless kicking do you no good whatsoever besides putting an amused smile on his face. 

Poor little brat, you shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about anything anymore – Daddy’s heard your prayers and is going to be teaching you some proper manners from now on. Giving you the full length of his cock. Daddy’ll make sure his little monster is all tuckered out before nap time – you can count your bratty ass on it.

He’ll have fucked you into a grateful puddle before bedtime – reduce you to nothing more than a little dummy on his dick – a pleasure pet with your favorite toy stuffed up your taunt hole, pounding you silly until you know nothing else but how much you love your daddy.

Chanting it in choked, broken, needy little moans, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy~” when he’s successfully bent your stubborn will and reduced you to nothing but his happy little fuck-toy. 

The funny thing is that the slap to your ass does nothing but make you drown even further into the pleasure lake of his black sheets.

You’re so cute lying there in your own mess – soaked in sweat and cum with your tiny fists gripping the comforter like it’s the only thing grounding you sept for the strong hands holding your hips – lifting you to meet his sharp thrusts angled deep into your stomach when he splits you apart from the back for the umpteenth time. 

It makes you see black, it makes you see white, where your core bursts with color, as he makes you wail out like a filthy little whore in heat – holding your sex with big fat fingers, making you cum again while receiving every thick inch of Daddy’s meat.

It doesn't get any cuter than your round face mushed into the silk covers – glossy pout wet with drool and tears, cheeks swollen and dewy – fucked completely stupid – droopy eyes soft like cotton, with your little red tongue licking the air between parted lips, panting and mewling for him – causing his knife-sharp hungry-hearted grin to twist and curl and grow ever so eerily wider as he fucks you harder and faster and deeper and louder.

BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa, AFO, All Might

JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji

AOT – Erwin, Zeke

[peachdues]

anyways have some Levi angst from my upcoming secret pregnancy fic Coalescence

But Levi’s threat did not appear to ruffle Zeke in the slightest. “It must be difficult for you,” he said offhandedly. “All this time spent in service to an organization that’s synonymous with a death sentence —“

“I wasn’t under the impression you gave a particular shit.” Levi interrupted, bored. “Given your commitment to slaughtering us all.”

Zeke waived his bound hands dismissively. “Whatever our differences, Captain, I can appreciate the toll constant fighting and war can wage on a man.” He took a swig of too-thin coffee. “I’d say we’re more similar than you might realize, wouldn’t you?”

“The day I have anything in common with you is the day I stick one of my blades through my skull.”

With that, Levi rose and turned away, eager to put space between himself and the insufferable sack of horse shit he was forced to drag along with the rest of the Corps.

“No need to be so dramatic, Captain,” the blonde groaned. “After all, what would poor Y/N do, if you left her to deal with the trials of birth and child rearing all by herself?”

Levi froze mid-step, his heart skipping several beats.

“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be, leaving your pregnant girl every few days for hell knows how long,” Zeke shrugged. “Never knowing whether you’ll get to go back at all.”

Levi’s fists were clenched tight enough that his nails broke through the skin of his palms, his shoulders rigid as he worked to control his breathing. With his back turned away from deadly Beast titan, the Captain could not see the breezy smile which graced his lips, Zeke relishing his obvious stiffness.

“But do you know what I think the worst thing would be?” He continued, pulling a beaten, battered book from the lining of his jacket, idly flipping through its dog-eared and water stained pages. “I imagine it would be the constant worry of something horrible happening — not to me, but to her.”

Zeke shook his head, mournfully. “Or, god forbid, her and the child.”

Levi pivoted slowly on his heel back towards the blonde where he sat, pretending to read the very book he’d complained to Levi of having already read too many times just days before.

“What.” His voice was flat and harder than stone.

Zeke didn’t bother to lift his eyes from the pages of his novel. “Pregnant women are so vulnerable, you know. Not much they can do to protect themselves from harm that may come their way — even when they’ve trained under the brutal Scout regimen.”

“It must be torture for you to know that something could happen to her, and you would be unable to stop it,” Zeke finally looked up to behold the cold violence in Levi’s eyes. “To be utterly out of control.”

An poisonous smile unfurled across his lips. “I guess that’s why you’ve had her staying back at your old headquarters, no?”

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

offering

unbeknownst to you, zeke has chosen you to be his cult’s next virgin sacrifice. a pining eren knows exactly what he needs to do to save you.

cultist!eren jaeger x fem!reader

contents/warnings: mentions of murder, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise, corruption kink, breeding, protective and possessive eren, mentions of ‘purity’

wc: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

eren felt as if time had frozen around him when the name of the chosen sacrifice tumbled from zeke’s lips.

your name.

you, the kind girl from his english lecture.

you, who gives him a pencil when he forgets his own.

you, who explains assignments to him with patient words.

you, who shares whatever snack you’ve brought without hesitation.

you, with your soft smile and sweet laugh, who was going to be cut to death on the altar zeke stood behind this upcoming equinox.

“she’s a virgin?” floch’s grimy voice pulled eren back to reality, and it took every ounce of the self-control that already came scarce to him to refrain from knocking the ginger’s teeth in. “could have had me fooled, way too pretty for her cherry not to be popped.”

zeke chuckled at floch’s remark. “my source is never wrong, she’s completely pure. she probably will be our cutest offer yet, though.”

they were gonna kill you, he was supposed to kill you. eren thinks about you when he falls asleep, when he wakes up, and all the hours in between. his little crush that’s been festering since the beginning of the semester would come to a thrilling conclusion when he hands his brother the dagger.

he couldn’t let it happen.

to hell with the brotherhood, he wouldn’t let them take you away from him.

eren knew the sacrifice always had to be a virgin, that was the one golden rule since the founders first drew blood centuries ago.

ascending up the hidden catacomb’s stairs after zeke adjourned the meeting, eren already had his plan mapped out- he just couldn’t tell if he was thinking more with his brain or his dick.

it was time for him to make you unqualified.

____

“thanks for offering to tutor me, i really need it,” eren said with a smile, opening the door to his room.

“it’s no problem! i needed something to do this afternoon, anyways!”

you had that smile on your face again, a little twinkle in your eye as you looked up at him. damn, you were so beautiful. he hoped he could pull this off.

within a few minutes, the two of you were sitting on his bed, you holding a textbook open in your lap as you pointed to different literary techniques. eren’s gaze kept drifting off of the pages and onto the exposed skin of your legs, little skirt you were wearing riding up as you sat.

you trailed off in your description of a motif when you felt a warm hand on your thigh. blinking, you turned to see eren’s face extremely close.

“...is everything okay?” you asked slowly, face heating up. men were never in your personal space like this, much less one as attractive as eren. the proximity was causing you to become flustered.

you tried to stand, get some distance between the two of you, only to trip and land right on eren’s lap. your startled eyes met his shining sea green ones, and the urge to kiss him surged through you.

eren knew he was about to have you right where he wanted, having enough past flings to know the tells of a woman. he just needed to give you one more little push, one more and then he can put his plan into motion.

bringing a hand to cup your cheek, he spoke to you softly. “can i kiss you?”

“i…”

“we don’t have to do anything if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, stroking your face tenderly as if your life wasn’t currently hanging in the balance.

eren’s care felt genuine to you and your eyelids fluttered shut, leaning your lips up to meet his. the kiss was careful, eren gently applying pressure as if he didn’t want to do too much and scare you away.

you felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue slid into your mouth, trying not to make your lack of experience obvious as he explored the wet cavern.

a hand going under your skirt, however, had you jolting. grabbing eren’s wrist before he could go further, you broke away from his lips with a pant. “wait!”

“what is it?” he asked, already knowing full well what the answer would be.

“i’ve never…you know…” you trailed off, and something about the look on his face told you that he understood perfectly.

“do you want to?”

please say yes, say yes so he can protect you.

you bit your lip, unsure. you knew nothing about sex, and the unknown was always nerve wracking to you. on the other hand, you had this nice, handsome guy that you were already acquainted with offering to take your virginity.

not many girls get this type of opportunity…

you nodded. “yeah, can we please just go slow?”

“of course, princess, we can go as slow as you want.”

it didn’t matter how you wanted it, all that mattered was that eren’s cock got to split your virgin cunt open.

his fingers resumed their trek up your inner thigh, tracing the outline of your panties.

“i’m gonna prep you first, okay, baby? make it hurt less.”

“okay,” you replied, breath hitching when you felt eren’s thumb slide into your underwear, immediately going to rub circles into your sensitive nub.

the stimulation had you jerking instantly, not familiar with the pleasure that was being inflicted on you.

“oh-oh!”

“that feel good?” he asked, sliding a finger into your pussy that was growing slicker by the second.

“mhm.”

this felt so much different than from when you’d play with yourself, not realizing how electrifying it was to have fingers between your folds that weren’t yours.

he added his index finger into your pussy, dark desire twisting his insides at how tightly you clamped on that one finger. starting to pump in and out slowly, eren cooed at you.

“relax, princess, ‘m gonna take care of you. you’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

you nodded at his words, not knowing the double meaning behind them. eren started to thrust his finger faster, rubbing against your bud with more intent. mewls left your lips at the sensation, humping his hand pathetically.

eren’s eyes were trained on you. the sight of you crumbling and succumbing to a man’s touch for the first time was breathtaking. the brunette was starting to think this could be love.

your thighs were quaking around his hand, slick dripping all over his lap. he relished in the mess, knowing that now you were probably loosened up enough.

“alright, pretty girl,” he kissed underneath your ear. “i think you’re ready for my cock.”

he gently maneuvered you off of his lap and onto his bed, lowering you down with so much care it made your throat feel tight. tugging your panties off before taking his own shirt off, he looked down at you.

“can you show me those pretty titties, princess?”

you blinked up at him dreamily, obeying his command as your shirt joined his on the floor. not even a second had passed after your bra fell from your shoulders when his large hands were cupping your breasts, squeezing at them in a way that had your eyes screwing shut.

“eren!”

he gave you a little kiss on your forehead as he leaned over you, palms leaving your chest as he grabbed a pillow to place under your hips. you took a deep breath, trying to settle your jittery nerves as you observed eren remove the rest of his clothing.

eren stopped you when you tried to take your skirt off.

“leave it.”

he pushed it out of the way, your glossy cunt appearing. the view of you completely naked with just your skirt bunched around your waist had eren’s mind shortcircuiting. he wanted to burn this image into his memory forever, and knowing he would be the first person to ever see you like this was even better.

if he had it his way, he’d be the only.

spreading your thighs open wider, eren slotted himself in between them. he grabbed hold of your hips, bringing them closer in a way that had your whole body being dragged down the bed. you yelped at his display of strength.

“sorry, princess,” he said with a sheepish smile. his tip prodded at your entrance. “deep breath f’ me, okay?”

the way he pierced you open was addicting, every inch of his dick spearing your virgin walls had your toes curling. you didn’t expect penetration to feel this good the first time. all your friends told you it would hurt the first several tries, but leave it to eren jaeger to throw you for yet another loop.

you felt his pubic bone become flush against yours.

“taking all of me your very first go? such a good fucking girl, damn.”

it was done. your virginity was his. zeke could no longer butcher you on that cold, stone altar in front of his whole brotherhood. eren had never felt so proud of himself, the knowledge that his girl was now safe and sound due to his plan had his skin tingling in excitement. he tightened his grip on your hips, trying so hard to keep himself grounded. he had promised you slow.

yet, as always, you proved to be heaven-sent.

“eren,” you babbled to him. “move, please! wan’ you to move.”

the frenzied gleam in his eye made your pussy throb. the brunette wasted no time in listening to your plea, bucking into you like his life depended on it- oh, the irony.

you screamed out, hands flying to fist the sheets beside you as eren kept your pelvis locked in place, subject to thrust after thrust of his cock. the pleasure was already swirling inside you as if it was a tornado, the high that was building from earlier now picking back up its rise.

“feel so good, so good, fuck.”

never had he been in a cunt this warm and tight. eren intended on molding it to the shape of him, ruining it for anyone else. he’d make sure you wouldn’t even want anyone else.

“perfect, princess,” he grit out. “fucking perfect pussy.”

his praise and pace made you feel lightheaded, falling further into the haze of ecstasy he was shrouding you in. you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“i-i think ‘m close…”

“yeah? me too baby.”

with the way you were gripping him, it was a miracle eren hadn’t already busted. he angled his hips to hit even deeper, adding a finger to your clit again in hopes of finishing the both of you off.

“where do you want me?”

your answer shocked him. “inside!”

fuck, you were gonna be the death of him.

“my princess wants to be filled up, huh?”

who was he to deny you?

one final plunge into your walls timed perfectly with the rub of his thumb had you clenching hard on his dick, muscles spasming as you orgasmed. eren was spurred into his own climax, spilling into you. his eyes were glued to your face, your cockdrunk expression almost enchanting to him as he watched you fall apart.

slowly pulling out, the brunette was in awe at his cum leaking out of you. deciding to worry about his sheets later, he crawled up the bed to see your drooping eyes.

laying down next to you, eren engulfed your frame with his. he held your head against his chest as you drifted off, exhaustion taking over.

____

zeke put his book down as he heard his phone ping, surprised to see he had gotten a text from eren. his brother hardly ever messaged him.

his interest was piqued even more when he saw it was a picture.

opening the image, however, had zeke wanting to chuck the device across the room.

while eren made sure to have the covers pulled up enough, the blonde could still tell it was you from your side profile resting on his brother’s torso.

another ping.

“you might need to pick a new offering, my bad.”

zeke knew the smug bastard didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.

____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[heich0e]

lucky strike - eren yeager/f!reader (3.2k) tags: baseball player!eren, college!au, modern!au, somewhat toxic relationship dynamic, childhood friends to good luck charm/fwb, reader is blatantly trying to get in zeke's pants and also she kind of sucks, heavy petting, making out, slightly rough/manhandling, eren picks reader up, mentions of eren being a big boy, tw reader is on a diet (/makes a questionable comment about bread), eren takes out his aggression on a sandwich. NSFW MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT (18+)

“Hey, want one?” Eren asks, the words vaguely garbled through a mouthful of food.

You scroll down on your Instagram feed, thumb hovering over a selfie of friend, before glancing up at him.

Eren is on the other side of his family’s kitchen, half a sandwich hanging from his mouth, and a peanut butter coated knife poised mid-air as he looks at you.

“Ew,” you say, returning your gaze to the phone in your hands, “no.”

“What do you mean ‘ew’?” Eren asks, swallowing his bite of sandwich. “You love peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter is so bad for you,” you remark, scrolling again. “And I’m not eating bread right now.”

“What the hell is wrong with peanut butter?” Eren mutters, setting the dirty knife on the edge of the sink. He shoves a hand up underneath his baggy t-shirt to scratch idly at his tummy. “And mom just got this bread this morning from that bakery in town you like. It’s so good.”

“It’s also a simple carbohydrate which means—“

The Yeager family’s back door swings closed, and your head swivels towards the sound. In the entryway, you spot a head of blonde hair as the figure ducks down to pull off their shoes. 

“Zeke!” your voice is a full octave higher—and notably more enthusiastic—when you see Eren’s older brother.

Zeke tilts his face up as he unlaces his boots.

“Hey, kid,” he laughs when he sees you draped across the kitchen counter where you sit upon your barstool, beaming at him with a wide smile, “you here again?” 

You nod happily, and Eren makes a noise of disdain from the other side of the kitchen. You shoot him a pointed look to shut him up as Zeke finishes removing his shoes. 

“Don’t you ever get sick of hanging out with this guy?” Zeke drawls, shuffling in and slinging an arm around Eren’s shoulders, tugging his little brother into his side.

Eren takes a large, resentful bite of his peanut butter sandwich (nearly finishing it off), while simultaneously elbowing Zeke roughly in the ribs.

“It’s torture,” you sigh dramatically. “Better now that you’re here, though.”

Zeke snorts, quirking a brow. “My occasional appearance can’t be the only reason you’ve stuck around this long—”

Eren slips out from underneath his brother’s arm, slinking towards the loaf of fresh bread on the other side of the kitchen. 

“—and twenty years is an awfully long time to put up with someone like him.”

“You’re right,”—you nod solemnly in agreement—“Eren, I think we should end it here.”

Zeke barks out a loud laugh, leaning towards you on the counter with his weight resting on his elbows. He props his scruffy chin up in his palm, smiling as he tilts his head to the side.

“C’mon kid, don’t break his heart like that! He’s been following you around like a puppy since you two were in diapers.”

Eren remains silent on the other side of the kitchen, sullenly preparing another peanut butter sandwich. 

“But if I keep spending all my time with him, how am I supposed to find a boyfriend?” you pout, peeking up at Zeke through your eyelashes. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have no trouble in that department,” Zeke says, a blonde brow quirking in mirth and his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Much to my dear little brother’s dismay.”

Eren sets the jar of peanut butter down on the counter with a little too much gusto to be casual, snapping out a curt: “did you come over just to be annoying? Or is there actually a good reason you’re here?”

“Aww, baby brother,” Zeke coos, feigning hurt as he turns towards his brother and away from you. “I came to see you!”

Zeke reaches out for Eren, and the younger (but taller) Yeager son bats the elder’s hands away. 

“Fuck off,” Eren grunts. 

“How’d your game go on Friday?” Zeke asks, dropping the act and instead addressing his brother with his usual warmth. The eldest Yeager loves to tease, but he loves his younger brother even more. “Dad said you got a couple really solid knocks in.”

“Obviously,” Eren snorts as he rips a bite out of his second sandwich not dissimilarly to how a predator might devour their prey, his tone making it sound like it should be obvious that he played well.

There’s a reason he’s the star player on the Shiganshina U baseball team, after all. 

“What are you batting these days?” 

“Coach says it’s a .314 after last week's game,” Eren replies, wiping a bit of peanut butter off the corner of his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. “More than good enough for the National U22 team scouts.”

Eren and Zeke continue to talk baseball for a while longer, and you quickly lose interest—opting instead to watch Zeke’s profile as he chats with his brother. The sharp lines of his stubbled jaw. The delicate slope of his nose. The way the afternoon sunshine soaking in through the kitchen window over the sink makes his blonde hair burn gold.

He really is just unfairly handsome.

“-right, kid?” Zeke is smiling at you as he waits for your response to a question you didn’t hear, snapping you back out of your own thoughts.

“Hm?” you hum, blinking through your confusion. “Sorry, I missed that.”

Zeke chuckles, stepping towards you and dropping a large hand atop your head to ruffle your hair. 

“I said,” he draws out the word pointedly, coming to stand behind you with his hands resting on your shoulders, “as long as you’re there, Eren’s sure to impress the scouts. You’re his good luck charm, after all.”

“Long suffering good luck charm,” you make sure to tack on, tipping your head back to look up at him, the crown of your head landing against his chest. He grins down at you.

“It’s a hard job, but if anyone can do it it’s you,” Zeke says, hands squeezing your shoulders affectionately.

You suppress a shiver at the feeling of his grip. The strength of his hands.

Pitcher’s hands, once upon a time.

“If only it wasn’t so thankless,” you sigh, feigning sorrow. You risk a peek at Eren on the other side of the kitchen from the corner of your eye, and see he’s glowering at you and Zeke’s friendly exchange. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Zeke laughs, dipping down and pressing a quick, prickly kiss to your cheek. The feeling of his stubble brushing against your smooth skin makes blood rush to your head. “You know you’re this family’s favourite child. Eren would probably be in prison by now if it weren’t for your positive influence.”

Judging by the positively murderous look in Eren’s eyes as Zeke pulls away, incarceration still isn’t entirely off the table. 

“Speaking of children and families,”—Zeke stands up straight and steps away from you, much to your dismay—"where are Mister and Misses Yeager?”

“Dad has that conference in Trost this week,” Eren says, his arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes their toned musculature much more evident than his baggy t-shirt betrays. “Left this morning.” 

He’s talking to his brother, but his eyes are on you.

“Ah, Carla went with him?” Zeke asks curiously. 

“Yep.”

“Home alone for the week, huh?” Zeke sidles up towards his brother again, poking him in the side. “You sure you don’t need me to come babysit you?”

“There’s nothing I’d hate more,” Eren says, his nose scrunching in disgust. 

“Aw, little brother,” Zeke clasps a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. He sighs, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “At least I know you’ll make sure he doesn’t burn the place down, right kid?” 

He winks at you.

“I’ll try my very best,” you smile cheekily. “My babysitting fees are pretty steep though.”

“Oh yeah?” Zeke quirks a brow, turning towards you on the opposite side of the counter, leaning forward on his elbows once more. “What’s the going rate these days?”

“Hmmm…”—you tap a finger to your chin in mock contemplation—“Eren’s got a game on Wednesday night. Come keep me company in the stands.”

Zeke laughs, pushing himself up onto his hands. 

“You think that’s a steep price?” Zeke teases. “I know a hundred guys who’d pay for the chance to sit next to you at a game.”

“And lucky you, you get to do it for free,” you say chipperly. 

“Lucky me indeed,” Zeke agrees with a nod, chuckling. “You don’t drive a very hard bargain, you know.”

“What can I say?” you shrug, utterly indifferent to the fact. Pleased by it even. “I’m not much of a businesswoman.” 

Zeke opens his mouth to reply when Eren interrupts. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

You and Zeke both look at him in surprise. 

His eyes are on his brother, his expression flat. 

Zeke hides a laugh behind his closed fist. 

“I do actually,” he replies, “I’m coaching little league tonight.”

Zeke peeks over at the clock hanging on the other side of the kitchen. 

“I better head over to the field, now that you mention it.”

You watch sadly as Zeke makes his way over to the back door and prepares to leave. You and Eren both follow.

“Call if you need anything while Dad and Carla are outta town, alright?” Zeke says to his brother once he’s pulled his boots on once more. 

Eren makes some sort of noncommittal grunt, shrugging as he leans against the archway into the back entryway. 

“Have fun at practice, Coach,” you chirp, sneaking up behind Eren and poking your head out from behind his broad shoulders. “Go warriors!"

Zeke smiles, shaking his head.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Zeke says, eyes sliding from you to his little brother. He reaches out and knocks his fist against Eren’s chest affectionately. “Both of you.”

You wiggle your fingers in a wave as Zeke disappears through the door, slipping out of sight. 

You and Eren stand there until you hear the door of Zeke’s truck slam shut and the telltale rumble as the old engine roars to life. 

You’re pinned flat against the wall before the old truck even makes it out of the Yeager’s driveway, with Eren’s mouth pressed—hot and messy and greedy—to yours.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of peanut butter on his tongue. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Eren whines, his teeth biting into your bottom lip. Biting, not nipping. Pinching down hard enough to hurt.

You make a little noise of complaint, squirming beneath the pressure of his broad, toned body and the equally firm surface of the wall. 

Eren pulls back after a few more moments of kissing you like he’s taking it from you, his chest heaving and a viscid string of spit joining his swollen lips to yours. 

“That hurt,” you complain, scrubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand. “You bit me.”

“You deserve more than a bite after that performance,” Eren counters, his eyes narrowed resentfully. “You might as well have hopped up on the counter and spread your legs for him right there. Might’ve been a little more subtle.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. You duck out from underneath Eren’s arm as it’s pressed against the wall beside your head, stepping back towards the kitchen. 

“Me?” Eren guffaws. “You just spent the past twenty minutes drooling over my brother and I’m the idiot?”

“Your brother’s hot,” you say with a shrug, tossing an indifferent glance at him over your shoulder. “Can you blame me?”

Eren’s jaw sets, a rigid line as this teeth clench tight. His green eyes swim with spite.

“You’re kinda being a brat, y’know that?”

“Don’t be so jealous, Eren,” you say, your nose scrunching up in distaste. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You turn around again, a smug little smirk curling up at the corner of your lips that he can’t see with your back turned to him. 

Eren’s arms are around your waist in an instant, and you’re flat on your back on the kitchen counter in the next. Eren’s hand behind the crown of your head makes sure your skull doesn’t crack painfully into the marble countertop, but it’s still cold and hard underneath you as you’re sprawled across it like a rag doll. Eren’s mouth finds yours again in another hungry, domineering kiss. 

“God, how do you know exactly how to piss me off?” Eren rasps against your mouth, dragging you down the counter by the belt loops so he can grind his hips into yours. 

He’s as hard as the counter underneath you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a moan caught just behind the air. 

You could answer his question. You could tell him that you've had two decades to practice and perfect the skill. You could tell him you got so good at it because you know how much he likes it. But you're too distracted as Eren’s hands slip up underneath your t-shirt, pawing at whatever skin has the misfortune of falling into his grip. His hips roll against yours again, and he grabs you by the waist to pull you down into the motion, and this time you really do moan as the tip of his cock ruts against the seam of your jeans—the pressure just enough to stimulate your aching clit.

“What would my big brother would think if he knew why you really spend all your time over here?” Eren mutters, dragging his lips along your jaw, his panting breaths tickle your neck as he mouths at the impossibly sensitive patch of skin just below your ear. The one he knows drives you crazy, in just the way he knows you like so much. “What would he think if he heard the way you beg me to fuck you?”

You gasp as Eren’s teeth bite down into your neck, fleeting but firm, your hands tangling in his half-tied hair and tugging at the soft brown strands. You pull him off your neck, and he meets your gaze with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. His neck strains at the angle you’re tilting his head back, his prominent adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“I don’t beg,” you whisper breathily, but you're not sure how much truth there is to the words if history is anything to go by.

Eren smiles, the softness juxtaposed to the ragged breaths you’re both wracked by. The tenderness contrasted by the harsh pang of arousal in your gut. 

“We’ll see about that.”

Eren tosses you over his shoulder and carries you up to his bedroom on the second floor like you weigh nothing. Eren’s build doesn’t betray how strong he really is—years of training and conditioning befitting of a varsity athlete hiding under the baggy hoodies and joggers he lives in everyday. It’s not the first time he’s done this to you, in fact he seems to enjoy making a show of his own strength, but it is perhaps the roughest he’s ever been as he tosses you down atop his unmade bed, crawling promptly onto the mattress atop you. 

He pins your wrists down to the mattress, his hips straddling yours to confine your lower half in a similar way.

He’s so much bigger than you are; no matter how much you wiggle underneath him, there’s no chance of you slipping free.

Not that you particularly want to.

“Did you like teasing me like that?” Eren groans, grinding himself down into you and leaving you with no choice but to take it. 

“I wasn’t t-teasing you,” you stutter over the words you both know string together and form a lie, your head spinning from how good it feels to have his whole weight pressed against you like this. 

“You were,” Eren counters. “You flirt with Zeke just to get under my skin. To try and rile me up.”

You pant up at him, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“Did it work?” you ask breathlessly.

Eren’s lashes flutter, a little huff of air that’s not quite a laugh nor a sigh slipping from his swollen lips. He takes your hand in his—much larger, and rougher than your own—and guides it down to the swell in his sweatpants. Beneath the soft cotton you can feel his cock, hard and throbbing under your touch.

Eren’s hips jump slightly when you palm a little firmer against the shape of him of your own volition. His breathing is ragged when he fixes you in his stare, his green eyes burning with want that’s catching, like a fire consuming anything in its path.

“It always does, doesn’t it?”

You smile a little to yourself, and Eren leans down and kisses you again—it’s sweeter this time, a little needier than before. He’s kissing you like he’s asking for something rather than taking it at will.

“Strip,” he grunts, pulling back slightly and tugging hastily at the material of your top.

You look up at him through heavy lidded eyes, the boy you’ve known all your life flushed down to his neck as he watches you just as carefully as you do him. You brush a little piece of hair that hangs down over his eyes back, fingertips ghosting against the shell of his ear as you tuck the tendril behind it.

“Do it yourself,” you chirp, your lips quirking at the corner.

The fire in Eren’s eyes burns brighter, and the cycle, as ever, starts anew.

You fight, you fuck, and then you go back to being whatever the hell the two of you are—and have been all your lives—until the same wheel spins again and brings you back around to the beginning. 

And come Wednesday you find yourself in the stands at Eren’s game, as usual; his long-suffering good luck charm with his jersey on your frame, and his teethmarks pressed into your skin underneath it. 

Zeke sits beside you, glancing at you occasionally from the corner of his eye. He spies some evidence of just what the two of you have been up to in the days since he saw you last, but says nothing, laughing to himself at the strange dynamic the two of you have. He’s long stopped questioning it—or the role he occasionally plays as a pawn in your unusual game.

You watch Eren step up to the plate, bat in hand, and you can’t help but appreciate how nicely his tailored uniform fits his body. Can’t help but think about what you know he looks like underneath it. Can’t help but think about the promise he made to you just that morning, fucking you over the bathroom counter at his house, his lips pressed to your ear.

“The only thing you’re gonna be able to think about tonight when you’re sitting next to my brother at my game is how hard I made you cum on my cock.”

You can't help but think he's made good on it.

The pitcher at the mound in the centre of the field winds up, and you feel the palpable anticipation crackling through the stands. It’s eager and visceral, like a collectively held breath.

At home base, Eren lifts his bat. He wiggles his fingers, a ritual he always does, before his hands tighten around the grip. 

You swallow thickly, your heartbeat thumping in your throat.

The bat cracks against the ball in a clean hit that sends the spectators into a roar, and Eren takes off running to first base, then to second. As he rounds his way to third, you spot the almost feral grin on his face because he knows he’s going to make it home. His eyes, though you can’t quite make out the green from such a distance, find yours in the stands.

You clench your thighs together in your seat.

Beside you, Zeke laughs, slumping back into his seat almost incredulously. 

Like he just can’t believe his little brother’s luck.

[cagesofgold]

eren jaeger headcanons <3

🎵teenage fever - Drake 🎧

His favorite way to unwind is to play with your hair. Due to having longer hair himself he’s grown accustomed to the different skill sets required to craft different hair styles, and actually, is really good at it. His fingers are lithe and nimble and are able to weave through strands with ease.

He drives an all black car with tinted windows, and has a polaroid of you in a photo booth with him on your first date in a plastic case hanging from his rear view mirror.

he also always makes sure to keep your favorite snacks in the car, as he’s a guy who’s bound to text you at 2am asking bout some “you up for a drive?” 💀

in terms of tattoos despite popular belief, i personally think he’d keep it on the minimal side. He’d maybe have some on his arms - or a sleeve, but he likes to keep them tidy. Although, he is one of those guys that would have that tiktok thirst trap spider on his chest or adjacent to his v line…..

this mf smells gooooood, he’s so paranoid about smelling bad because of Jean saying he smelt like a burning pile of bodies in high school and hasn’t been able to shake the fear since.

despite not being overly adorned in tattoos he does like piercings. He’s got about five on his ears and has a nose piercing but he always forgets about it.

loves reality shows. A few months into your relationship he noticed you watching them and acted with his full chest that he had no interest, yet as the weeks rolled by he somehow got closer and closer to the couch and before you knew it he was fully shouting over Lisa Rinna. (You’ve also seen him following over 30 housewives from the different shows on instagram…)

cannot stand metal music because he spent his entire childhood covering his ears from where it bled from under Mikasa’s door. (Otherwise he’d probably enjoy it)

he’d dress quite simply, mainly with blacks and whites and would sometimes mix and match with some red or green, but i don’t think he’s as ambitious as some of his friends fashion wise, but he still looks good as hell.

his favorite holiday is with out a doubt halloween, is some of this because he spent so long as a child building the most elaborate scares for the kids on his street? maybe. but he also likes autumn as a season so that has something to do with it.

doesn’t get along with his dad too well but is a total mamas boy. He visits her at least twice a month considering they live in different cities.

is a cat person, but when he was younger he liked dogs more as according to him they were “much radder” - his own words 💀, but as he got older and became more subdued he developed a preference for cats.

has anxiety that he manages to hide, he wasn’t used to being comforted and it took a while for him to fully open up to you.

despite smoking weed with Jean and connie almost every other day he still makes a dramatic scene any time Zeke lights a cigarette around him, i’m talking coughing and clutching his chest, Zeke’s standing there like this 🧍‍♀️waiting for him to stop his fucking shenanigans.

if you want to go out with Eren Jaeger prepare to be a victim of the sassy man apocalypse, because my god, this man is relentless, and the SIDE EYE on this mf is ridiculous. He could knock down an army with his sass alone.

takes good care of his hair, oils it twice a week and does hair masks in order to keep it soft and shiny. He can’t have his gorgeous girl going out with some guy with brittle, greasy ass hair…

goes to the gym but doesn’t like it very much. he goes most days for at least an hour but never posts gym pics on his instagram or anything, he just has no interest apart from maintaining his body.

cannot sleep without you. he can try, sure, but he’ll never be successful. Before you both decided to move in together he was at your house every night, nuzzled against your body with light breaths slipping from his lips, which sparked the conversation, why not just move in, you’re here everyday anyway?

tends to bottle things up, and if something is bothering him you will have to work it out of him slowly…but he’s trying, for you he’s trying.

his lock screen is a photo of you asleep against his chest, he just thought you looked so peaceful.

gets embarrassingly competitive in just dance, threw a Wii at Connie once because he made him lose a perfect score on timber.

finally, he loves stargazing, especially with you. He’ll take you out to a deserted street, a bag full of snacks and a joint as you both lay on the hood of his car, chatting about whatever comes to mind, and it’s at those moments, when his eyes focus on the slope of your nose and the shape of your mouth, that he feels a warmth inside him he’s never felt before. <3

[jimraisedmeup]

Cornflake Girl

...he showed up all wet on the rainy front step wearing shrapnel in his skin and the war he saw lives inside him still...

pairing: au/drafted/military/PTSD Eddie Munson x reader (whose brother died in the same war)

warnings: war, language, angst, death. terrible childhood, poverty. talk of domestic violence. (eventual PTSD, eventual sexy stuff, if this goes multi-chapter).

word count: 1k

author's note: slightly thinking about making this into a multi-chapter.

~~~

The exhaust from the line of buses in the road choked you like the clammy, stone grip of Death herself. You found yourself in a trance - staring at the weeping mothers, the trembling young men - the only thing to shake you back to reality was a familiar firm grip on your own shaking fingers.

“...before you know it. Trust me, Wink.”

You stuttered over a response. “W-what?”

Your older brother Zeke raised an eyebrow at you with amusement. It’s the exact look that he had been giving you for weeks, and quite frankly, it pissed you off. How could you be so fucking casual about being drafted, Zeke?

In simple terms, the world as you knew it was ending. Your best friend, your big brother, your savior - he got that goddamned letter in the mail. 

Of course, Ezekiel Elliot Winkler didn’t bat an eye. Did he expect it? Well, you were sure he did. The newspapers talked about nothing but war. But… did Zeke want this? Your mind suddenly ran past all of the memories of the previous years; him and your father shoving each other around, Zeke ripping bottles of wine out of your mother’s frail hands. 

Your brother, only eleven months older than you, covering your ears in the stuffy closet you shared as your parents smashed dishes in the kitchen during a fight. You recalled how bad you shivered in the closet that night - probably because the furnace went out again, and no one had fixed it in months.

Probably as much as you shivered now. Zeke’s chocolate brown eyes were different from yours, lighter almost. His gaze flickered between your pathetic scowl and your hand, where your anxious thoughts manifested into a severe cuticle picking problem.

“C’mon, quit the picking, sis. How’s an engagement ring ever gonna look on a chewed up finger like that?” Zeke winked at you, knowing all too well that you swore off marriage over a year ago.

His sense of humor didn’t fade one bit, not even as the heavy bag slung over his shoulder. You helped him pack it the night before, last minute as always. 

You really want to pack this much? 

He smiled that toothy smile of his, dimples catching the shadow from the bare bulb above you both.

It’s all I got, Wink.

A deep gasp rose in your throat and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your memories escaped you suddenly, but then came rushing back with the enveloping squeeze of Zeke’s long arms lifting you a few inches off the cold pavement. He had always been at least half a head taller than you.

Ignoring the scrutinizing gaze of your mother, Zeke mumbled in your ear. “Just… hang in there. Please? Someone needs to take care of her while I’m gone.”

You fought the urge to argue, to protest. You didn’t want to watch over your drunken mother. You’d be eighteen within six months - who’d be responsible for her then? After all of the nights you both went to bed hungry, the narcissistic comments as puberty hit you like a semi truck. What the fuck did you owe her? 

She didn’t attend the funeral of your father when her car wrapped around a tree… only for her to walk away with nothing but bruises.

You were shocked that she had the motivation to leave the couch to send off Zeke. Hell, right now, you were stunned she was even slightly sober in the parking lot of Hawkins High School. But that was probably for her reputation's sake, not for her only son being drafted like a pig to the slaughter.

A sudden flash of silver caught your eye.

Snapping like a twig in the middle of a dry Indiana January, your neck craned instinctively towards the sight: two buses down, the flicker of a silver chain on the strap of a man’s duffel bag. 

Eddie. Your best friend.

Well, your former best friend. Before you had to start wearing a bra. Before your PMS and family stress turned you into a hormonal monster. Before he covered the tent in his jeans every time you smoked behind the bleachers with him during cheer practice. Before… before he did nothing but obsess over Chrissy Cunningham. 

You sighed.

Eddie Munson, born the same year, nearly the same damned month, as Zeke, got the letter in the mail, too. Duty called to him like a whisper in the night, beckoning him with a curling finger, looking at all of his failures, insecurities; Eddie didn’t think he truly had a future in Hawkins. So why not embrace the draft?

At least, that’s what you imagined it was like. Now, your puffy eyes drew to him like a magnet. Eddie looked drastically different, yet all the same. His long, curly hair was buzzed short again like it was when you were both in 5th grade. He kept his back awkwardly straight as he spoke silently to his uncle, Wayne. That tiny family was always so good at trying to make life easier for each other. 

You silently begged them to let the walls down. Shed tears. Hug deeply. You couldn't keep your teary eyes off of them.

Zeke said his farewell to your frigid mother as you focused on the sparse Munson family. Eddie held a firm grip on his uncle as he pulled him in for a meaningful embrace. As your childhood best friend turned for the bus, he immediately froze at the sight of you across the parking lot.

Fuck.

Your heart seemed to collapse on itself. He had always had that effect on you, though.

A whistle sounded nearby, tearing you from the invisible silver chain that connected you to Eddie.

“Zeke!” you choked out, refusing to let go of the strap on his bag. “Write to me. Please tell me you’ll write.”

“I thought you hated my scribbly handwriting?”

“Shut up!” You gripped his strap harder, pulling him forward in a gut-crushing hug, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s doe eyes on you. 

The last thing you remembered was the easygoing smirk on Zeke’s face as he waved through the bus windows.

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 1

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

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

next–⊱

𝟎𝟏 | 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥

chapter word count: 3.1 k

content warnings: canon typical racism, blanket warnings

a/n: First chapter done!

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

Thanks for reading!

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

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

Where in the hell were you?

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

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

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

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

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

"–hear me?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You are not Ymir," she states.

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

There is absolutely no way.

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

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

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

"Who else?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My name is Yelena."

You freeze.

No. No, she couldn't be serious.

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

Time slowed down. Worlds were created from space debris, stars went supernova, civilizations flourished and perished. A miniature Big Bang reverberated in your consciousness, your psyche connecting and disconnecting plot points, characters, arcs, settings.

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

"Marley, actually."

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

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

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

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

Okay. Maybe not a dream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one talks to you still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, Paradis.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe I am Ymir."

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

"Liberio."

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

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

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

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

It is... underwhelming to say the least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

" – and this is his daughter."

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

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

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

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

"Next!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait here a moment, please."

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

taglist: @dressycobra7

ask or comment to be added!

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Could you do headcanons for a reader that rejects aot boys

✧ how aot boys handle your rejection ✧

eren jaeger is completely baffled. he could have sworn you were so into him. he tries to play it cool but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s wounded.

armin arlert is extremely disappointed. his shoulders slump, his face goes white and he stutters out an apology. he avoids you for a while, not out of embarrassment but he just doesn’t want to bother you.

jean kirstein is left speechless when you turn him down. he scoffs and tries to brush it off but you catch him glaring at you for the next week and a half. however, your rejection doesn’t deter him from trying again.

connie springer takes it surprisingly well. he doesn’t hold it against you and you’re able to continue your friendship between all his longing looks.

reiner braun is hurt but ultimately, he understands. rejection is something he’s used to and he’d never want to make you uncomfortable so he calls it quits.

bertholdt hoover wants to fall off the face of the planet when you turn him down. he knew he shouldn’t have bothered to ask you. he tries to keep his distance from you after that.

levi ackerman can’t get any words out of his mouth when you tell him no. he opens his mouth, shuts it, nods his head and walks away. he was so sure there was something between you two.

erwin smith is more puzzled when you reject him. he frowns, hints of confusion all over his face. he wonders how he could have gotten the wrong impression but he doesn’t blame you.

zeke jaeger brushes it off completely. he wants you to think that he’s cool and nonchalant. hell, you’re only a girl. he can live without you. he’s not the type to stick around where he’s not wanted.

porco galliard’s ego is destroyed. his facade comes crumbling down. he’s so embarassed, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he rubs his neck awkwardly, and mutters an ‘oh’ before walking away.

new chapter of my jean fic up read it here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for not inviting a friend of mine into my dnd campaign?

so i (18nb) have a friend (18nb, Martin) who i play in a main dnd campaign with with all our other friends (Ill name them Dan, Virgil, Mark, and Ray). Dan is our DM after we kicked out the old one bc she was horrible. We're a pretty close group of friends, but lately we've all been really busy with respective school & work, ect. so we didnt play dnd for a solid, like,, 4 months. I DMed a one shot for everyone besides Ray cause she was flaky anyway, and added in my boyfriend Zeke for it.

Everyone had a really fun time w it and I loved everyones characters, especially Dan's. I watch a lot of dnd shows, so i just keep getting more ideas- but while the one shot was fun it was messy as hell. Ive been wanting to write a campaign for a smaller group for a while, (because when i tried making a campaign with the whole group the character creations were... disappointing to say the least. this sounds mean but i created a fairy world that was very magical & told everyone to go crazy on character creation in a world with few/no humans, and like 5/6 people opted to be a human with a fighting class :/ )

ive been writing a campaign that im really proud of and have a good vision for, and decided to include Mark (because we're best friends) Zeke (because he wants to play dnd more and has no opportunities) Dan (bc he never gets to be a player) and then another close friend of mine outside the group named Gabe (who i love but never get to see) I love their characters & we're all super excited.

Thing is. I was briefly talking with Dan, Zeke and Mark about it at school bc I'd sent everyone a little intro message for the world and they were all super excited and wanted to talk to me about their classes. Virgil had no problem with this and was excitedly asking abt the world + characters along with some other friends from school, but Martin got quiet and went and sat by himself. I could tell they were off, but Martin is generally a quiet person anyway and is often sad + doesnt want to talk for like a hundred different reasons, so i left her alone. Later that day in a different class I have with Virgil he showed me his phone where Martin had sent him a message saying she was really disappointed & felt left out that i hadnt invited them to my campaign.

i instantly felt bad and started to text him, but,,,, to be honest, i dont think im at all responsible for this.

i have reasons for leaving Martin out, the main one being that they just..... arent a very active player. Hes soft spoken and doesnt actually like rping their characters- her character in our main campaign is/was literally mute bc they said they didnt want to have to speak as him. (theyve since taken this back and went through with a curse breaking thing to be able to speak, but her character,,, still doesnt talk much.) he writes really good, sad backstories but doesnt actually play or do anything with them and gets uncomfortable acting. Their characters are not only emotional, but like. crazy. they play a bunch of cool tieflings with insane magic classes & features and then, again,,,, dont roleplay them. I didnt want the group to be big and had a good reason for including everyone that i did, and our other friends that arent in it (Virgil, Ray who is Martins sister btw, all our other d&d interested friends at school) literally dont mind at all. i just wrote a campaign that theyre not in. Martin also has their feelings hurt very easily, so to be honest i just find her being sad about not being in it just... stupid. id never say that to his face & i get that he feels bad, but like....cmon.

im aware im a very very incredibly low empathy person- to be honest i struggle with depression and bpd very heavily and am often mean to my friends & loved ones without really processing why or how much it affects them. i told Virgil that i thought Martins reaction was stupid, and he said that that wasnt fair bc Martin had always been in my campaigns before (which is, yknow, one. Martin and I were even in a campaign with a completely different group a while back and Martin willingly left it very early because the group was loud & their character wasnt doing anything (yeah)). Every time Martins expressed (or i guess not expressed) sorrow for not being invited to it ive just sort of ignored them. this again isnt that uncommon cuz when shes sad he doesnt like to talk about it, and also they havent directly confronted me with this at all.

ive been talking about the campaign a lot because it occupies frankly a lot of my brain because i have so much to write, and i especially talk to the people that arent in it bc theres no risk of slipping up and telling them something they arent supposed to know. The other friend, Gabe, is friends with Zeke and Mark and I, and Dan is good around new people,, but Martins really quiet around people he doesnt know well, so if i invited her anyway they'd probably play the game even less than they already do.

again, im really bad at having an actual perspecitve on this. Virgil said he feels bad for Martin but not for himself, as far as i know Dan doesnt know about the situation, and i literally just dont wanna involve Mark and Zeke (Zeke HATES conflict and when people fight so he really doesnt have to be involved.) Mark Martin and I have all been really close friends since literally 7th grade and I guess Martin especially feels left out that I involved Mark and not them but Marks both really good at character creation and also talking in character, and like, hes my best friend who i do everything with.

I dont wanna blow off Martins emotions but but i truly dont give a shit that they feel betrayed by my not inviting him. especially because they havent bothered actually telling me this. objectively i dont think its my fault even a little, and Martin is really horrible at handling their emotions anyway (this isnt an insult, just a fact. i am too). aita for not inviting him + not caring that shes upset by it and acting like they arent?

sorry this is so long i really like providing context

What are these acronyms?

[apollodarling-writes]

Yandere Levi with a reader who isn’t afraid of him and it pisses him off

yan! levi with a reader who isnt afraid of him

cw : angry levi, levi is miserable and at a loss, levi wallows in his misery, murder-suicide mention, slight crackpost because i think its funny, torture mentions, implied kidnapping, implied mass murder at the end.

— yan! levi would actually be at a loss and it would piss him off to no end. he would wonder why you’re not scared of him. like?? he’s killed so many people for you??

— at some point yan! levi would wonder if you’re okay and actually go out of his way to sit you down and ask you what the fuck is wrong with you.

— yan! levi would get all pouty and ask you why you’re not afraid of him. if you say its because he’s short, he might actually commit murder-suicide and hope for the best in yall’s next life.

— yan! levi, after dismissing you, would sigh and stare at the ceiling for a while, wondering where everything went wrong. everyone finds him scary, hell even fucking zeke found him terrifying. what horrors have you seen?

— yan! levi would get so upset that he actually cries. what is he doing wrong? is there nothing that scares you? he’s killed all your friends and he’s offed some of your family. he’s sent you hearts in boxes. he’s arranged severed, rotting fingers in the shape of a heart at your bed-side. what the fuck will it take to get you to submit??

— im thinking it would be so funny if it’s something simple like buying the reader food and paying for their stuff, or making sure they never have to work again because they hate it and levi is at a loss because he thinks you just hate him that much.

— anyway, yan! levi would sulk around for about a week before he sits you down again and asks you what it would take. like, just give him a chance? please?

— the thought of threatening to kill you crossed his mind, but if killing other people didn’t work, he wouldn’t think threatening you would work.

— i think from there, yan! levi would consult some of the women on the base. he’s at a loss, he has no pride left, what’s a guy like him got to lose?

— hell, he’ll even court you normally. so long as he has you, he’ll be fine.

— if it comes down to it and you aren’t giving in to his advances, yan! levi will show you exactly why people are afraid of him. he’ll torture you and whittle you down until youre a husk. a shell of who you were before. it doesn’t matter if it takes years, he will get what he wants.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

The beauty of forgiveness and how it tied up two storylines. Part 2.

Jeans indecisiveness and how it saved Reiner:

No matter what Hange says, Jean IS the reason why Reiner escaped. His intrusion gave Pieck and Zeke TIME to get to Reiner. His words didn't sway Hange, they even say that it wasn't Jeans fault. But if you want to be realistic about it..Jean was at fault. He bought Reiner time to be saved. ACCIDENTALLY, of course.

Part 4: Jeans hesitation

Jean could kill titans. Fine. Not until the arc comes around where they're killing MPs and Marleyan civilians, he has a REALLY hard time with it.

Even when Gabi shoots Sasha, Jean hesitates. After, when Floch asks what to do with them, he says, in tears, that throwing kids off the ship won't stop all this senseless killing.

I think this hesitation coincides really well with Reiner, who puts his hesitation into his split personality. His hesitation is as a Scout soldier. It's gone when he's a Marleyan Warrior.

Jeans hesitation was ALWAYS there, and it cost lives. To him. Which he can't stand. Which, to me, is where that self hatred stems from. He hates that he can't help but have self restraint.

"Those bones will never let me rest."

Marco was a GOOD person, who was constantly there for his friends and gave Jean confidence to be the leader he saw he could be. There aren't a lot of GOOD people in this anime, but Marco and Falco to me, are.

Part 5: Forgiving yourself & lifting up another. Name meanings..

Jean means God is Gracious.

Reiner means Warrior.

Look at how he saves Reiner, the lighting in the background. Jean is lit up, and Reiner is in the dark. It's almost like an angel saving someone from hell. The way Jeans positioning is great as well, one leg bent, reaching down and holding UP Reiner.

Yes, holding up. Keeping him from tumbling into hell. He would have been crushed by those titans, his armor would have done nothing. Another suicidal ideation because he HADN'T forgiven HIMSELF.

Jean had though. He had forgiven himself and Reiner. And that's why he could save him. When he couldn't save anyone else. And that's also what helped Reiner fight. Jean gave him a place to belong and Reiner helped Jean realize what those bones were saying to him. It's okay to hesitate, to not be fit to take human life easily. Jean was always strong without the persona, his empathy and empathetic nature for others, for REINER, made him strong.

Jean spent this entire fight concerned for Reiner. He couldn't help that. Couldn't help being worried for someone who had hurt him.

Not to mention.. these two were Isayamas favorite to write. It makes sense that their arcs ran into each other to help each other in the end.

What do you think?

[wannabeavocaloidmystery]

Hey,

Where's Anna?

All I see is Zeke, where did that rock kid come from, how is he rocks?

Why they hell is he addressing his Mom by her first name?

10/10

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

NSFW Headcanons~ Sub!Zeke Tyler

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- I mentioned in my original set of headcanons that I think Zeke is a switch: whether he's dominant or submissive really just depends on the person and the situation. But, in this set of headcanons, we're going to focus on him being completely submissive in bed.

- You never know exactly what you're getting into whenever you spend time with him. Sometimes he's sweet, sometimes he's a brat, sometimes he's both at the same time. One minute he'll annoy the hell out of you: poke you, prod you, nip at, bite you, hide your things, doodle on your papers, etc. Then the next, he'll turn on all his charms: giving you his sweetest smiles and cutest faces; snuggling up to you like he wasn't just being the bane of your existence all because he wanted some attention. He acts so sweet that it's easy to forget how much of a little shit he was being.

- If you were anyone else, him pissing you off would segue into him acting like a cocky asshole and making you seem pathetic for giving in after being "so annoyed" with him. But you are you, so all of his attempts to rile you up are just him acting like a stereotypical brat. Zeke likes being put in his place so unfortunately for you, he makes a game out of pushing you over the edge and getting you to treat him roughly. Expect a big ol' smile on his face when you finally have enough and start hissing out threats or pushing him onto his bed.

- If he doesn't get you into his bed by being a brat, he does it by genuinely seducing you. It's in these moments where his dominant side comes in clutch; along with his general unabashed sluttiness. He likes to entice you, likes to act suggestively while making normal conversation or do non-erotic things with smoldering looks. Likes to stretch his back so that his shirt lifts and you can see that sliver of skin above his belt, likes to take your fingers into his mouth, to get on his knees in front of you, to lean in close, to whisper in your ear.

- "Tell me what you want me to do": he murmurs in your ear, nuzzling your jaw before he kisses down your neck, your chest, your stomach. He locks eyes with you as he presses another one to the little bow at the top of your underwear, taking your hands and putting them in his hair as he moves to be between your legs. His fingers trace along the skin of your thighs, tickling the flesh as he waits for you to tell him what he's allowed to do: if he's allowed to touch you where he wants to the most.

- As much as he likes to annoy and seduce you, he can't help but love it whenever you choose to make the first move. You actually manage to fluster him: make him stare at the floor or hide his face in his arms/some plush part of your body. When you tease him, he blushes and laughs nervously, occasionally fumbling over his replies or getting too distracted to answer you immediately/correctly. You wouldn't think that a person with direct access to loads of porn would still be grinning and rubbing his face bashfully at the sight of his girlfriends tits, yet there he is.

- He's definitely not a virgin but he sometimes likes to pretend to be; especially if he's teasing you for liking someone who's nerdy or prudish. He'll go from acting like it's one big joke to taking it so seriously that it makes your head spin.

"No, no, you have to be gentle with me! I'm untouched!" He cracks up, falling onto his back as you roll your eyes at him. You can see the look in his eyes shift as he finishes laughing, teasingly asking if he's 'not doing it right'. He licks his lips and wipes his grin away, locking eyes with you as he sits up and puts on the most innocent expression he can muster.

"Please," he whispers, voice bordering on whiney as his hand slides up your thigh, touch featherlight. "I've never done this before, I don't know what to do. You'll teach me what to do, right? Take care of me?"

- Empty classrooms and car sex. Sometimes he chooses it purely out of convenience, other times he chooses it because he wants to roleplay. If you're in a classroom, he wants to play teacher/tutor. If you're in his car, he wants to play police. Either way, he's getting off on the power play: the concept of you corrupting, seducing, and/or taking advantage of him.

- Good boy, bad boy, baby boy: he loves it all. He might not want to admit that that's what gets him going; at least at first, but it definitely is. Throw in a "poor baby" every now and again when he's acting extra whiney and he's done for.

- He likes being degraded and humiliated: being forced to beg or admit how much he loves whatever you're doing to him, being called a loser or a slut, being called pathetic or nasty for liking such taboo things. Call him stupid or say his brains don't matter because he's just a toy, and he'll lose it in the best way possible.

- Is he ashamed of his preferences? A little bit. Is that shame part of the fun? Absolutely. Like I said before: he's got a humiliation fetish; so being teased for his taboo "kinks" kind of gets him going. He likes hearing you mock him about what others would think if they "found out". But does he actually want them to know about it? Absolutely not. It's been a well kept secret of his and he'd like to keep it that way, even if the two of you toy around with the idea of it being revealed.

- But that doesn't mean that he doesn't like to dance on the brink of it. He likes when you act sexual with him in public, likes being seen as some kind of unabashed sex fiend/pervert. Kiss him passionately or rub on him in front of someone and he'll bite his lip when you separate, winking at the person in your presence when they accidentally meet his eyes. He's a nasty dog who likes to flaunt his owner.

- He also likes when you make him cum in his pants at the end of the school day. When he's forced to wear them out in public, his heart hammering in his chest and his cock still throbbing in the soaked mess of his underwear, shifting wetly with every step as he crosses the parking lot back to his car. No one would ever actually see anything, not with the bagginess of his clothes or the way that you're walking in front of him clutching his hand. But the feeling of his classmates seeing him in that state, the thought of them figuring out what you just did to him; what you always do to him, and the humiliation that would arise from it turns him on to no end.

- He likes when you hurt him; whether purposefully or not. Likes seeing the marks you leave behind: the angry scratches and the crescent-shaped cuts, the redness of his skin from where you hit him, the tender hickeys, the teeth marks, etc. Looking at them feels like he's looking at the evidence of your love. And feeling the lingering pain of them makes him want you to hurt him again.

- He likes the more fleeting and invisible pain as well: when you tug at his hair, grab him roughly by the face, squeeze your fingers around his throat, etc. It feels more dominating, more intimate. He's fully at your control and he genuinely loves it.

- Ownership kink. He loves hearing you refer to him as your property: saying that he's yours, that he belongs to you, etc. There's something incredibly comforting; and sexy, about having you want him so much that you actually claim him as yours: that you think of him as another one of your well-loved possessions. You once plucked a cigarette from his lips and told him not to "damage your things", and he honestly short circuited a little.

- Spitting kink. Doesn't matter if it's on his face, in his mouth, in his hand, or on his cock: he just has a thing for objectively gross and messy activities.

- He's a ...messy eater, so to speak. He likes to be completely covered in it whenever he goes down on you: a mix of cum and drool and all things nasty. He's eager to taste you and he's eager to please, humping the air/bed because it turns him on so much to be between your thighs.

- How the two of you have sex really just depends on the day. Sometimes you act more soft and loving: taking the time to comfort and treat him sweetly. And other times, you treat him roughly, pushing him around and flaunting your control over him. It usually depends on whether or not he was being a brat; or why he was being one in the first place.

- When you're being more soft with him, your roles tend to blur a little more: he's still submissive but you're less focused on making him submit to you, and more focused on pleasuring and showing how much you love each other.

- Stroke him from behind and he'll turn into putty in your hands. Pair that with some kisses down his neck, some hickeys on his shoulders, some dirty whispers in his ear, and a pointed nip to his skin, and he'll be trembling against you like a leaf. He loves having you cuddled up against him like that; and he also loves when his mind drifts to somewhere else and you surprise him with a hand around his throat.

- Whenever you give him a handjob, it's either comforting and slow or harsh and unrelenting; or it can be both at the same time. You'll start out being all sweet to him and then decide to be mean: keeping him steady as he writhes in your grasp, pleading and crying as you cruelly keep going.

- Zeke can get pretty vocal in bed; especially when he starts getting emotional and overwhelmed. He kind of chokes on his arousal: he begs, he whines, he gasps, he cries. Sometimes he lets out these broken sounding moans that make him sound so deliciously pathetic that you can't help but laugh; especially when he's trying to apologize for being such a brat. When he first slips inside you or when you do something particularly good to him, he'll whisper out a curse or let out a whimper that goes straight to your core. Overall, he's a pleasure to listen to.

- You making him cry for the first time was a come to Jesus moment for him. Having you coo at and comfort him, having you degrade him so sweetly while he let everything go: it had him wondering if he should go out and buy you a wedding ring. He lets everything out when he's with you: every tension, every worry, every need. You break him apart and put him back together. And no matter how pathetic he must look sitting there with tears running down his face, you look at him with so much love that he can't help but keep crying.

"Poor baby. You just can't think straight, can you? Can't handle it? Feels too good? Aren't you embarrassed? No, no you're not, because you know I love seeing you like this. My little mess. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

- He either struggles to look you in your eyes or stares into them with zero shame; there is no in between. He'd love it if you made him look at you: biting his lips and whining as you grab him by his cheeks, panting heavily between his words as he answers whatever dirty questions you ask him.

- Making him watch/look at porn with you when you find it in his room; and not in the trunk of his car, or when you ask him to show you things that he wants you to do to him. Something about it makes him feel kind of shy, like he's a kid getting caught with a playboy magazine. So this is what you get off to: you comment, and he feels a surge of embarrassment course through his veins.

- Sometimes you won't touch him at all, and other times you'll slide a hand on his crotch whenever he least expects it. When he turns to look at you, you tell him to watch the tv. And though he tries really hard to follow your order, he almost always ends up staring at the side of your face, whimpering when you refuse to give him any other attention besides the touch of your hand.

- Making him look at himself in the mirror while you ruin him.

- Having him put on a show and jerk off in front of you; especially when he's being a brat and/or acting like he doesn't need you. He almost always hesitates, trying to decide if you're actually being serious as he swallows nervously. Depending on his mood, he's either shy or unabashed: slowly taking himself out while he stares at you or the floor, stroking himself while listening to you talk or trying to goad you into speaking when you don't give him anything to work with. He also likes when you make him perform for you because he was "acting like a whore".

- When he's being dominant, he likes to roleplay as a doctor. When he's being submissive, he likes having you roleplay as a surgeon; or a nurse if he's feeling less kinky. He shakes in anticipation when you order him to undress and lay down, shivering slightly as your hands run across his body, marking places with ink and tracing delicately across them with a scalpel. He doesn't want you to cut him, not really, he just likes the implication/the threat.

- One day, he'd left his gun laying out on the table and after he assured you that it wasn't loaded, you'd picked it up and let him teach you how to open the chamber and things of the like. Seeing for yourself that it wasn't loaded, you'd jokingly pointed it at him. And though he'd smiled back at you, there was something in his eyes that told you that "funny" wasn't exactly the word he'd use to describe the situation. You guess he really does like when you're in control....

- I've said it before, but Zeke is the type of person to get into an enemies with benefits situationship. He'd undoubtedly bully/tease you, which would make it all the more satisfying to finally be able to put him in his place during sex. He wouldn't admit to being submissive at first, but you'd soon catch on: smirking at the way he gives in after a fight for control or the way that he shuts up as soon as you get rough with him. You'd push him down and mock him for wanting you to be in charge, and though he'd tell you to shut up, he'd still be rushing to unbuckle his belt for you.

- You usually either ride him or let him be a service sub: ordering him around while you lay beneath him, clutching the back of his neck to pull him in and make him look at you. It makes him feel especially pathetic whenever you make him do all of the work: the way that he's forced to punish himself if you ever decided that you wanted to be mean.

- Making him bite the bottom of his shirt to keep it out of your way. Every now and again, he'll turn into a crying, drooling mess, so you'll tell him to make himself useful while you play with your things, pushing his shirt up his chest and holding it out for him to latch onto. You've also put your fingers in his mouth, making him kiss them in apology if he accidentally bites down on them/bites down on them too hard.

- Toys. He'll either blatantly ask you to use them on him or pretend as though he's selling them: depending on what they are and how embarrassed he is to be into them. Sometimes, you'll have to tease him and see what sticks, feeding into his fantasies so that he feels more comfortable to admit what he wants from you.

- I feel like he's into pegging. He's probably a little shy about it; due to the reputation and the connotations that it has, but the dirty and taboo nature of it turns him on. There's something so arousing about being fully owned by you: about having you all around and inside him, making him submit to you completely. Flip him around and make him tell you how much he wants it, make him call himself your bitch, make him admit that he loves it. He'll cum hands free while he bites and claws at the sheets.

"Look at big, bad Zeke bending over for me. If only the rest of the school could see you now."

- Jealous sex. He has a tendency to mock you whenever he feels insecure: putting on that faux wounded expression of his as he accuses you and/or insinuates things, acting like you're playing games when you insist that you don't know what he's talking about. Part of him is just lashing out, while another part of him is goading you into sleeping with him because it makes him feel "useful". If he gets you to have sex with him, he gets to remind you of how good he is in bed and how perfect the two of you are for each other. You'll forget all about whoever he's jealous of because you'll be too busy playing with him. Toxic but efficient; at least in his eyes.

"Isn't this better," he pants out between little moans, his brattiness partially gone, driven out by your undivided attention. "You think he'd let you do this to him?"

- He finds it amusing whenever you go from cruel dom to worried girlfriend, insisting that he drinks water or lets you inspect his injuries. He's not used to being vulnerable with people, but he likes cuddling with you and having you fuss over him: cleaning his cuts or holding something cold to wherever you hit/scratched him. He always looks at you like you're some kind of angel whenever you're focused on taking care of him, smiling and telling you that "it's nothing" when you catch him in the act. He blushes a little when you lean down to kiss and tease him, melting further into the bed while you continue to take care of him.

[keischreiber]

Thinking about how Reiner's decision-making as a leader is influenced by a need to a) fulfill a mission; and b) for the sake of someone else.

So when it comes to making decisions that are solely from himself he's lost and unsure of what to do, because his mind spirals back to how those decisions will affect the people around him.

You tell him that it's fine to be scared; but he needs to take the first step of truly deciding things for himself.

He understand you, but it doesn't make it easier.

"You can hold my hand until you feel it's safe enough to let go. And even if you do, I'll be behind you to push you up when you feel like you'll fall back."

That's what you promise him.

He is overwhelmed with emotion; never having felt this kind of support. It was different from they type of support he received. Different from his mother's who had expectations for him beyond himself, different from the military who had expectations for him to be the perfect warrior, different from Zeke who had expectations for him to remember that his failure was the reason everything happened in the first place, different from his friends whose expectations of him were slowly being rebuilt after the shared experiences of both loss and gain, different from the kids whose expectations were for him to be the role model that could be followed...

You didn't have any other expectations of him other than for him to be himself.

And that was what scared him. What if who he was, who he REALLY was, was something irredeemable... with damage too broken and shattered to be fixed. Once he puts down his mask of being a soldier... of being a warrior... of being the Armor... what the hell was he left with other than the child who he had chosen to cast away for the sake of what his mission needed?

"I... can you—"

He was struggling to say what he wanted. Not knowing where to start and fearing how it would end.

"I want you to stay by my side." He blurted it out. Selfishly. Greedily. As firm as he can be, letting his heart and every fiber of his being bleed out the last remnants of courage that he could muster.

His expression's filled with guilt and apprehension. What was he going to put you through? He knew it won't be easy being with him. But he wanted you there.

It was his first big decisions that he made solely for himself.

And that decision was to have you in his life.

[allykakamatsu]

Playing XC2 if you played Torna first is a very different experience

Aka, a rough list of all my reactions to things that I shouldn't of reacted to on a first run cause I played Torna first-

(Note, I played both games for the first time years ago, this is just a recreation of my reactions.)

(Chapter 1) Aww Azurda has new adopted human and this one calls him Gramps that's adorable!

meeting new Torna for the first time Aww it's a cute Gormotti girl-! Why is Malos here-?! JIN WHY ARE YOU WITH MALOS WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!

Okay so Malos has a blade now, checks out given that his core is probably wrecked after what Mythra did to him but I guess Aegis's can be Drivers now.

JIN WHY DID YOU STAB A CHILD WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!?!

Oh, so Pyra is Mythra's new self. She seems sweet but I want my sassy girl back.

(Chapter 2) Yay Gormott! Glad to see it's not burned to the ground anymore.

If I had a nickel for every time Brighid attacked us thinking we were criminals I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice.

Why isn't Pyra's fire affected by the water- oh is it cause of Mythra?

Oh, so Mórag is Brighid's new driver. Should've figured that out sooner but they're a cool looking pair. Wonder where Aegeon is though.

(Chapter 3) Hey Cole's scar kinda reminds me of Minoth, wonder what happened to him.

In between my tears over what just happened MYTHRA'S BACK FUCK YEAH!!!

(Chapter 4) Addam why the hell are you wearing a cloak you weren't wearing it in that scene.

MYTHRA I GET THAT YOU'RE UPSET AND PROBABLY STILL DEPRESSED OVER MILTON I AM TOO BUT I'M SORRY!!!

Wait.... COLE WAS MINOTH?!?! Jeez man what happened? I know you said you were a failed Flesh Eater but I didn't realise that meant this...

Also Minoth man, I love you but I think old age has made you senile why the hell are you sending us to Amalthus?

get's control of Mythra YES!! And omg her specials are her old arts that's adorable!!

Oh so this is the 'Evil Tifa' I've heard people joke about- wait.... MIKHAIL?!?! MY SON?! Okay this means you survived whatever the hell Amalthus did that's good, but it's been 500 years how are you still alive regardless? Also he's evil now which is bad but at least he's with his dad Jin.

WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME FIGHT MY SON GAME?!?!?!

Okay upside, Brighid's back at least and yup she's still awesome. And her specials are her old arts too that's still adorable.

Haze my babygirl you're back-! Wait, Fan la Norne? I'm with Mythra on this one when did that happen? And why is half of your core gone?

(More under cut)

(Chapter 5) Okay yeah I'm doubly with Mythra something happened to Haze and I am concerned.

Okay I can see why Addam picked this place for the Tornan refugees this place is beautiful.

Wait, Zeke's the Prince of where? I have not heard of Tantal before, is it new or am I forgetting something? (it was in-fact, relatively new)

in the same tone of 'Dinkleberg' Amalthus..... I can't prove it yet but you're the one behind Haze's missing core aren't you?

YES!! REX!! AMALTHUS WAS MALOS'S DRIVER DON'T TRUST HIM!!

Jin, I again ask what the hell happened to you?

Empty Moment- OH GOD THAT'S HIS LEVEL 4 I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT FELT LIKE AAGGHH!!

Jin what are you doing- HAZE NO!!! JIN I KNOW HAZE HATED AMALTHUS AND HE PROBABLY DID SOMETHING TO HER BUT WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?!

after I'm finished crying Oh, hey Aegeon, was wondering when you'd show up. And that's the Emperor of Mor Ardain? Aww, he looks like an even more baby Hugo-! Wait... Hugo.... oh no.

(Chapter 6) Niall what are you doing no no no-! NOT AGAIN!!!

Okay, Nia, thank you for stopping history from repeating itself.

The Tantalese are descendent from Addam, that can't be right Addam went to Leftheria-! Zettar started this, didn't he?

No tier lists I don't care if Aegeon sucks I'm gonna use him anyway because I am biased.

'Cadet Branch of the Royal Family' Yup, Zeke is descendant from Zettar, RIP my man having to be in the same bloodline as him.

GAME WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME FIGHT MY SON AGAIN-!! WHY DOES MIKHAIL HAVE A CORE CRYSTAL?!?!

Pyra Mythra no no no you two aren't just made to destroy don't go with them no no NO!!!

(Chapter 7) Ah, so this is where Addam hid the third sword. 5 minutes of gameplay later I can see why he hid it down here, this place would drive anyone mad.

Is this what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Addam's talent art? Cause all these reinforcements have to be equivalent to being perma toppled and launched with how long this takes.

Addam drop the hood already.

Malos you fucking bastard when I get my hands on you....!! Jin you can stay but you're on think fucking ice pardon the pun.

YES!! REX GIVE THOSE GIRLS THERAPY THEY NEED IT!!!

(Chapter 8) You know, I'm pretty sure most people picked Pyra here calls Pneuma Mythra but I am not most people

YAY!! I can play as Jin again! And he is somehow even more overpowered than before!

Jin why are you lying to Brighid, she's more mature but she's otherwise the same.

Jin... ate.... oh... I should've.... figured but.... oh god.... I just thought loosing Lora messed him up but having to eat.... yeah between that and Amalthus no wonder he's like this.

Torna......

Aww, nice Jin's still in there, he let us go and told Brighid the truth.

(Rest of the game cause I love it but I forget the chapter markers) So.... um.... Jin I'm glad you were able to find love again after Lora but why did it have to be Malos? Like this is weirdly sweet but this is a weird progression.

AMALTHUS I KNEW YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MESSED WITH HAZE MALOS YOU ARE OFFICIALLY PRIORITY 2 THIS BASTARD DIES FIRST!!

Okay that's how Mikhail survived this long so I guess Amalthus was good for one thing.

No no no no no no no- MIKHAIL!!!!! Why.....?!?- Oh god they're showing the scene where he met Lora and Jin again GAME WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!?!

Okay I wanted to help Jin and stop Amalthus anyway but now I'm doing it for my baby boy.

Don't worry Jin I've got your back. THIS IS FOR LORA HAZE MIKHAIL AND EVERYONE ELSE YOU BASTARD!!!!!!

...... J... Jin...... chapter 9 is living up to it's name because I was a rainstorm of tears after this

Malos for Jin's sake I don't want to kill you anymore can you please stop- damn it!!

Never thought I'd be sad to see Malos go but, here we are.

Pyra, Mythra, what are you- no no no no NO!! POPPI I KNOW YOU'RE KEEPING YOUR PROMISE AND WE HAVE TO LEAVE BUT LET ME GO I HAVE TO SAVE THEM!!!!

bawling crying until the two come back and the tears become happy tears Heh... thank god....