#trouble by Connie converse

[horror-aesthete]

Was inspired to finally finish this by the latest episode- lyrics are from She’s An Angel by They Might Be Giants

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

you in my eyes [9] l Javier Peña

Summary:  you weren't friends and you certainly weren't planning anything more together

Warnings:  fluff, some self-doubt, long distance relationship, sexual innuendo, flooded floor, surprise pregnancy, Murphy shows up,

A/N: the last chapter. I was fighting with myself and my brain. I apologize for what you will read here.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[previous chapter] [masterlist] [you in my eyes - masterlist]

"I'm sure you'll find yourself a new girlfriend soon, Peña."

"You're probably right, hermosa. She'll definitely be nicer to me, too."

You rolled your eyes, smiling as his hands found your hips and he pulled you closer to him greedily. Even though the airport was packed with people, you were stuck in your own little bubble. You were supposed to spend the last two weeks taking care of your own business before you flew back to the States. In the meantime, you and Javier were trying your best to make the most of every moment, to make every moment count.

“Call me when you get there,” he said, looking at you with pleading dark eyes. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you replied. “And don’t get into trouble, okay?”

“You were the cause of all the trouble, I like the quiet life.”

Your smile made him want to taste your lips again. If only he could keep you here, but he knew it was beyond him. The office had assigned you to one of the branches, you had been assigned a small apartment - you had no other choice.

Murphy approached you silently and reluctantly patted his friend on the shoulder. "It's time," he said. "If he doesn't get in now, you'll have some explaining to do."

"Fuck off," Javier growled, but he knew perfectly well that Steve was right.

You gently stroked his cheek. Another kiss, a hug. He promised to call, that you would see each other soon, although you didn't know what that meant. When the plane took off into the sky, you felt like you had left a piece of your heart on the ground.

Clothes were hanging in the closet. Personal trinkets were spread out on the furniture. Although the sun was shining through the delicate curtains, you felt like you were locked in a dark box. You took a sip of cold coffee. It had been over three weeks since you returned to the country and you had the impression that with each passing day it was getting worse.

Sometimes you woke up with a strange feeling. Between sleep and reality, you had the impression that in a moment you would feel a familiar movement next to you, that a familiar touch on your skin would cause a warm shiver. However, the other side of the bed was empty and cold. Almost as much as you were.

"Hello, hermosa. How are you feeling?" His gentle voice soothed your nerves. Slouched in the armchair by the window, looking out at the city on the other side, you told him about another boring day at the office, about the coworkers who pissed you off, about how you broke a heel on the way to work and now you have to buy a new pair of shoes.

Javier didn't talk much about what was going on in Colombia. Sometimes he would mention Steve and Connie, "Connie asked me to say 'hi' to you", but what he really wanted to hear was you. He didn't say it because he was afraid that when the words came out of his mouth, it would hurt even more.

Your absence was felt every day, in every little thing he did. He always had the feeling that when he got back to the apartment, you would be there, but that never happened. The conversations you had and spent a lot of money on were your only hope for what you had.

"I have one more suitcase to unpack", you said, looking at the corner where you had put it.

"I told you a long time ago to do that". Javier laughed quietly. "Why do you keep putting it off?"

"I don't know..." you sighed. "Maybe the shirt still smells like you?"

God! He wanted so much to take you in his arms, to hug you, to kiss you.

“I love you, you know that?” he said.

“I know, Javier. I love you too.”

Three months later.

“I saw your last report. It was damn good.” Jason, one of your coworkers, leaned against the door frame, smiling.

“Thank you.” You replied. “Do you have anything for me?”

He plopped down in the chair across from his desk. His blue eyes watched you carefully. “Maybe we could go out for a drink tonight?”

You looked up from the papers you were looking through. Jason was a charming man, you knew that. He had asked you out for a drink or coffee for the hundredth time, patiently putting up with your refusals.

“You know…” you started, but Jason raised his hand.

“I understand, you’re taken.” He answered for you. “Although I think an intelligent and beautiful woman like you deserves the best treatment. I’ll keep trying my luck.” He winked at you. “Maybe someday I will.”

“Maybe.”

When he left your office, you leaned back and sighed. This week had dragged on for an incredibly long time. You were getting closer and closer to quitting your job and hiding under a blanket. It had also been a few days without a call from Javier. You had felt like something was wrong for a while now. He was hiding something from you, and your mind was giving you new ideas. You hated yourself for it.

“Javier? He left the office.” Steve’s voice echoed through your phone, and you closed your eyes, rubbing your temple with your hand. “Do you want me to tell him something?”

“No, thank you. Give Connie a kiss for me.”

You should have expected this. Long-distance relationships were never meant to last. And even though it hurt, you knew you should move on.

That damn suitcase. The last one. You stared at it for a few minutes, drinking two glasses of wine. After the third, you made a decision. With a soft clatter, you opened it. Everything inside looked like you had packed it yesterday. Your clothes, a few books, your shoes. Without looking, you grabbed the clothes and threw them in the washing machine.

Why did it hurt so much? It was just clothes. Just a suitcase. Regardless, you poured yourself another glass of wine, ready to end the chapter of Colombia.

A knock on the door almost made you jump. You weren't expecting anyone, so you suspected it might be one of your neighbors asking for a glass of sugar. However, when you turned the lock, when you opened the door a crack, the glass of wine fell to the floor with a bang.

"Hello, hermosa."

"Javier..." you whispered.

"Judging by the look on your face, my surprise was a success, am I right?"

You didn't answer. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck. He dropped his suitcase to the ground so he could hug you. His arms found their place around your waist, burying his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. He had dreamed of this moment for so long and finally felt your warmth again.

A long moment passed when you finally pulled away from him, your eyes wet with tears. But you didn't even let him breathe. Your hands cupped his face and your lips collided in a kiss you had been waiting for so long.

Jesus! What a relief it was. Like a breath of fresh air.

"Easy, easy, baby," he murmured between kisses. "Let's go inside, shall we?"

You pulled him closer, not breaking the kiss. Your hands knew exactly what you needed. His jacket slipped off his shoulders, your fingers already fighting with his tie. Javier lightly pressed you against the wall, his lips pressing against your neck. The bulge in his pants was clearly noticeable.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry," you groaned as his hands slid under your shirt.

"I could eat you," he said between kisses, and you laughed quietly.

He didn't change. His eyes still looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world, his hands easily memorizing paths on your body. This really was Javier. Your Javier.

"What's that sound?"

It was only now that you opened your eyes, hearing what had been coming from the bathroom for a while. A strange clattering noise that your washing machine must have been making, and which definitely wasn't there before.

“I turned on the wash,” you said. “You know, I still had the last suitcase... I had to have something in my pocket.”

“Fuck.” Javier hissed and before you could react, he ran to the bathroom.

He turned off the washing machine and opened the door a moment later. Foamy water spilled onto the tiles and he started pulling out your wet clothes.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” you ran after him to the bathroom, immediately stepping into a large puddle.

Javier’s pants were already wet, but he was looking for something in your clothes. “Don’t you ever check your pockets before washing?” he asked.

“Not this time. I wanted to get it over with. Javier!”

“This suitcase has been sitting untouched for almost four months. Why today?”

“I don’t know!”

He must have finally found what he was looking for, because his fingers tightened around the small box. He looked at you with obvious relief.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, woman,” he panted. “And I definitely didn’t want to do it this way.”

You frowned. The water was already pouring out into the hallway. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Javier, who was kneeling in the middle of your wet laundry. Your gaze wandered to the small box he was holding in his hands. You froze.

“I’ve been planning this for a long time. I thought…” Javier sighed. “I thought you’d find it before I got there, but you stubbornly refused to open that suitcase. So I thought I’d surprise you. I’ve been hiding the fact that I’m going to the States for weeks.”

“I thought you already…”

Javier frowned. “I don’t want to know what you thought, but you were wrong. Honey, Colombia’s over. I’m staying in the States.”

You couldn't get a word out. You looked at Javier like he was crazy, like what was happening was a dream.

He opened the box and a delicate ring appeared before your eyes. “Please marry me. I know it’s crazy. I know I don’t deserve you, but I wouldn’t dream of anything else. Just give me a chance, please.”

There was silence. You looked at each other, both in slight shock and afraid to say anything. Finally Javier spoke again.

“Hermosa, please say something.”

A sound finally escaped your lips. “Yes. It’s crazy, but yes. I will marry you, Javier.” In an instant, he was on his feet. His arms were around you again, his lips finding yours. You couldn’t be happier.

Two hours later, still tangled in the sheets, you were both planning. Everything and nothing. Simple dreams, distant goals. Javer helped you finish your wine, and the bathroom floor was covered with towels to absorb as much water as possible. You felt like you had woken up after a very long and tiring sleep.

“My father has a farm, I told you about it. I want to go back there. Help him.” Javier said. “What do you think?”

“That’s a good idea. It’s definitely better than living here. I’m sick of my office.” He kissed your forehead and you smiled slightly. “Laredo sounds good.”

“And that will do us good. I can keep working. We will set up however you want. There is a big bedroom upstairs, you will like it.”

You rested your chin on his chest. “And your dad?”

“He will love you.” Javier answered without hesitation. “He will adore you, you will see.”

You snuggled up to him, letting your thoughts wander around that perfect vision of your life together. Everything sounded easy and beautiful coming from Javier. But you believed him.

A delicate ring sparkled on your hand, drawing your attention with every movement. Was all this really happening? Did Javier Peña really want to spend the rest of his life with you?

“I can hear your brain working.” he murmured as if he was reading your mind.

“I just…”

“You think.” he finished for you, “I know you so well, hermosa. I may not be able to guess your favorite flavor of ice cream yet, but I know when something is bothering you.” 

You sat up and rested your head against the headboard. "Don't you think this is all happening too fast?" Javier frowned. "I mean..." you continued. "We don't know what it's like to live together. Maybe I'll be bothered by throwing your socks on the floor, and you'll be pissed off by the way I make our bed. I mean... I've never been with anyone the way I am with you. I don't want to screw this up." 

Javier watched you closely. His brown eyes were full of concern and love. Finally, he spoke.

"I don't want to screw this up either, but I can't promise you that it'll always be wonderful. I'll try to make you happy, darling, but a relationship is a job for two, right?" you nodded. "We have to be understanding with each other and learn to compromise. But I'm sure I love you and I want all of this with you."

He took your hand and kissed it tenderly. 

"I want that too."

Six months later.

He stared at the two lines, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. It was like the ground had been pulled out from under his feet and he was left hanging, not knowing what to say. He shouldn't have seen that. Damn it!

He should have spent more time looking for his car keys than he did for yours. He didn't expect to find them in your bag.

"Javier? I thought you were already at the store and..."

You stopped in the doorway. Now you were both staring at the pregnancy test Peña was holding in his hand. Your eyes widened.

"Baby..." you whispered with difficulty. "No... I didn't want you to find out like this."

He blinked quickly. "How long have you known?" he managed with difficulty.

"I think two days. I started to suspect something and I wanted to make sure."

He took a deep breath and sat down on the couch.

"I'm sorry." You said quietly, walking over to him. Javier frowned. "I'm sorry, I know we haven't talked about it. I think it happened this weekend when we left town and... Shit. Javier, say something, baby."

Your words barely reached him, but he understood their meaning. He swallowed, feeling how dry his mouth was.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You nodded. Your eyes filled with tears. He tilted his head and something changed in his gaze. Javier was looking at you with tenderness and admiration.

"This is the best thing that could have happened to us, hermosa."

Tears ran down your cheeks. "Really?"

"Of course!" he stood up and took you in his arms. "God! I can't believe it. I love you so fucking much."

He kissed you hard and lovingly, feeling the salty taste of tears on your lips. He had never felt so happy before. He had never felt so complete before.

“We’ll get through anything, you’ll see.” He whispered as you snuggled up to him, letting the tears, now of happiness, roll down your cheeks and onto his shirt. “Everything’s going to be okay. Jesus, our baby…”

“You’re going to be a father, Javier.”

And that was enough for him. You. Your baby. A simple life. He felt peace, and you finally felt like you were in the right place with the right guy. With the one man who saw you for who you really were and loved you in every way.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @qpiiee@missladym1981@axshadows@djappleblush@picketniffler@txmel@wowitsafemale@cheekychaos28@underneath-the-sky-again @misstokyo7love @jensensational71 @iamladyp @youkeeno

[celesteleoves]

“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

-

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

-

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

[shiorihyugawrites]

Red Regrets

Twelve years ago, Levi Ackerman made the hardest decision of his life—he left behind the only woman he ever loved, believing it was for her own good. But fate is cruel, and when a fiery redheaded boy with a familiar scowl crosses his path, Levi is forced to confront the past he abandoned. The truth he never knew. And the woman whose heart he shattered. (Levi x OC)

Chapter Three

Levi left the vacant room and made his way down the corridor, each step feeling heavier than the last. Passing by several Scouts who were still baffled by the chaos, he gave them a curt nod—enough to signal that he had things under control. The weight of his conversation with Preston still lingered in his mind. That brat. My son. The words felt surreal, rattling around in his skull. Yet the more he turned it over, the more it made a heartbreaking kind of sense.

He inhaled slowly, fighting to compose himself. Now was not the time to unravel, not when the Scouts were teetering on the brink of disbandment and trust among the populace was at an all-time low. Too many soldiers had died in recent months—taken by Titans or lost in the battles against the Armored and Colossal Titans. Morale was shaky, resources were strained, and top brass in the government was circling like vultures. Levi knew that Erwin had bigger priorities than Levi’s personal troubles, yet here they were.

At the end of the hallway, he found the door leading to the main meeting area. Pushing it open, he saw Erwin, Hange, and the newly formed Special Operations Squad—Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Historia—all waiting. They looked up the moment Levi entered, and he could sense their curiosity radiating in the tense hush.

Eren, perched on the edge of a chair, shifted awkwardly. “Captain Levi,” he began, “Is everything—”

“Quiet,” Levi said sharply, cutting him off. He hated snapping, but he didn’t have the energy to handle their questions. “Whatever you think you heard, it’s none of your business. Understood?”

The squad exchanged hesitant glances. Sasha looked like she wanted to speak but thought better of it. Jean frowned and folded his arms, but he kept his mouth shut. Mikasa’s gaze swept over Levi, concern flickering in her eyes, while Armin looked away, possibly guessing that pushing Levi right now would be a terrible idea. Historia remained composed, though her posture was tense, clearly aware that something significant had occurred.

Hange, standing slightly off to the side, cleared her throat. “We’ve wrapped up the briefing about our next steps,” she said, eyeing Levi carefully. “Everyone’s just waiting to hear if there are any adjustments to the plan. Once we’re finished, you can speak to Erwin in private.”

Erwin inclined his head in agreement. He studied Levi with that same assessing gaze he always wore, as if trying to see straight through Levi’s hardened exterior. “Yes. Let’s proceed.”

Levi gave a curt nod. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Erwin looked at the small group of young soldiers and resumed what seemed to be a continuing discussion. “We’re in a precarious position,” he stated, voice calm despite the tension in the room. “The Military Police and the higher-ups in the government want Eren under their control. They see the Scouts as a threat—especially after we lost so many in recent battles. We believe they’re pressuring the king to curtail our activities, if not shut us down entirely. Our next moves have to be strategic, and we have to keep Eren’s location secure.”

Eren swallowed, his posture tightening. He looked ready to speak, but Erwin lifted a hand to forestall him. “Captain Levi will be heading this squad. Your job is to keep Eren safe, gather any information we can on the Titans, and await further orders. At the same time, we need to be prepared for… internal conflicts. There are factions within the walls that don’t trust us.”

The group nodded in unison, though their faces betrayed various degrees of apprehension. Armin spoke up quietly, “Understood, Commander. We’ll do our best.”

Jean’s voice cut in, betraying a hint of skepticism, “And if the government tries to arrest us first? What then?”

Levi glanced at Jean, but it was Erwin who answered, “We’ll deal with that scenario when it arises. For now, maintain a low profile. Concentrate on training, watch your backs, and follow Captain Levi’s directives.”

An uneasy silence settled, broken only by the shuffling of boots. Levi then said, “If that’s settled, you’re dismissed. Go prepare yourselves.”

The young Scouts stood, saluted, and began filing out, shooting puzzled looks at Levi and the Commander. Hange followed behind them, giving Levi a fleeting nod that seemed to say, “Hang in there.” Once the door closed, only Erwin and Levi remained.

Erwin let out a quiet exhale. “So,” he began, lowering his voice, “the boy came here looking for you.”

Levi pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yeah. Slipped past the guards. Caused a commotion.” He couldn’t quite keep the frustration out of his tone, though whether it was directed at Preston or himself, he wasn’t sure.

Erwin’s expression was serious. “And? Did you speak with him?”

Levi looked away, fixating on a crack in the wooden table. “He wanted to ask if I’m his father.”

Erwin’s eyebrows rose slightly. “He confronted you with that, did he?”

“He’s a straightforward little brat,” Levi said, a mix of admiration and annoyance lacing his voice. “He demanded answers I didn’t fully have. But…” His voice trailed off, a swirl of conflicting emotions welling up inside. “Erwin, I’m fairly certain he is mine. The timeline fits, and… well, the resemblance is pretty damn obvious.”

Erwin nodded gravely. “I see. So what do you plan to do?”

Levi’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. “I can’t just walk away now. That would… I’ve already done enough damage to Penelope. But I don’t know if I can be what the kid needs. I never had a father, and the father figure I did have was nothing but a piece of shit. And every time I get close to someone, they end up…” He paused, rubbing his temple. “Dying.”

Erwin’s gaze softened, a rare display of compassion from the stoic Commander. “Levi, these are valid concerns. But you owe it to both yourself and the boy to try. Abandoning him now would only guarantee his resentment. And Penelope, from what I’ve seen, is strong-willed. She’ll stand her ground on how she wants to handle this.”

Levi let out a bitter chuckle. “Stand her ground? That’s putting it mildly. She slapped me hard enough to make my head ring. I don’t blame her, though. I left her without a single word of explanation. If she hates me, I understand.”

Erwin was silent a moment. Then he placed a reassuring hand on Levi’s shoulder. “I realize this is coming at a terrible time, with the scouts in crisis. But you need to address it, or it will eat away at you. I can’t have my best soldier distracted in the middle of everything that’s happening.”

Levi lifted his gaze to meet Erwin’s. He knew the Commander was right. His thoughts were already splintered—one part on the turmoil threatening the Scouts, another part on Preston and Penelope. If he didn’t confront it head-on, it would linger. “So what do you suggest?”

“I think,” Erwin replied, “you should take this evening off. Speak with her. If that means traveling back to Wall Sina or meeting her somewhere else, we’ll make arrangements. The Scouts can manage one night without you.”

Levi looked skeptical. “We’re on the verge of being shut down or arrested, and you’re telling me to take time off?”

Erwin managed a faint smile. “I know it sounds absurd, but it’s necessary. You can’t function properly if your mind is spinning. And I trust Hange to handle the immediate concerns. She’s more than capable.”

Levi mulled over Erwin’s words. The last thing he wanted was to let the Scouts down. But the memory of Preston’s pleading eyes and Penelope’s furious face weighed heavily on his conscience. “Fine,” he said at last, voice subdued. “I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Erwin withdrew his hand. “I’ll have Hange fill in for you for the remainder of the day’s duties. You can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Levi gave a single nod, his throat feeling tight. “Alright,” he murmured. He glanced toward the door, half expecting Hange to barge in with a snarky comment, but everything remained quiet. “Thanks… for understanding.”

Erwin’s eyes held steady. “We’re comrades. We trust each other’s judgment. Now go and handle your personal situation. The Scouts need a clear-headed Captain.”

Levi straightened, tugging slightly at the cravat around his neck. “I’ll talk to her,” he said, though the mere thought sent a swirl of anxiety through his stomach. He’d never been one for long talks—especially not about feelings. Penelope, on the other hand, was passionate, fiery, and had more than enough reasons to hold a grudge. He imagined the conversation might end in another slap, or worse. Yet he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch. “Erwin,” he said without turning around, “if something goes wrong tonight—if the Military Police show up or we get any signals from the government—send word.”

Erwin nodded. “You have my word.”

With that, Levi stepped out into the hallway. He began making his way through the fortress-like halls of Scout HQ, passing various soldiers who saluted him as he went. Some shot him confused glances, likely wondering about the ruckus earlier, but he kept his eyes forward. He had no desire to explain anything.

Soon, he reached the courtyard where the fiasco with Preston had unfolded. He could almost see the reflection of his younger self in that brat—tough, scrappy, and uncompromising. It was still a strange thought, to imagine he had a child in this world. A child he’d never held, never seen grow up. Guilt gnawed at him, but so did a glimmer of determination. If there was a chance to fix some part of the damage he’d done, maybe he owed it to them both to try.

He left HQ, heading for the stables. If he was going to make the journey to Wall Sina before nightfall, he needed a horse—and official permission to pass through the checkpoints. He had no illusions that this was going to be a pleasant reunion. Penelope was likely still seething, and if she hears about Preston’s “visit” to the scouts, she might be on a warpath. But he’d rather face her anger than live in ignorance any longer.

Kenny once taught him how to survive, not how to live with other people. He had no roadmap for fatherhood, no clue how to mend the heartbreak he caused. But if he’d learned anything in the Scouts, it was that you had to face your demons, even if they towered over you like Titans. And in Levi’s mind, there was no Titan bigger than the past he’d left behind.

Saddling up a horse, he cast a final glance at the looming walls of the old estate. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and he tightened his grip on the reins. For an instant, he wondered what Penelope would say to him. Would she call him foolish? Would she tell him to leave and never come back? Or had some part of her been waiting for this moment too?

He shook off the swirl of doubts. Duty demanded he act. Whether that duty was to the Scouts, to Preston, or to his own conscience, Levi Ackerman wouldn’t run anymore. So he kicked the horse’s flank and rode out, heading toward the place he’d avoided for so many years, determined to finally face the past head-on.

…

Levi arrived in Wall Sina as dusk settled, the streets bathed in a warm, golden glow. He had spent the better part of the afternoon discreetly asking around about Penelope’s clinic location, careful not to draw too much attention. The Scouts’ reputation was shaky, and the last thing he needed was a horde of Military Police prying into his personal matters. Fortunately, despite Penelope’s strict appointment policies, her name was well-known in the district. It didn’t take long for a few talkative shopkeepers to point him in the right direction.

He dismounted at a modest two-story building with a large sign bearing Dr. Iverson’s name. The clinic looked quiet from the outside, with only a few lights burning behind the windows. Levi’s gut churned as he tied off his horse at a small hitching post. This was it—no more running. He’d come to see her face-to-face, talk to her without pretense. He inhaled deeply, trying to settle his nerves.

Pushing open the front door, he stepped into a modest reception area. A lone nurse stood behind a wooden desk, rummaging through some paperwork. She looked up at the sound of his approach, and her eyes widened when she recognized his uniform and the distinct expression that many knew belonged to Captain Levi of the Scouts.

“Captain Levi!” she exclaimed, voice trembling with surprise. Her gaze flicked to the Survey Corps insignia on his cape. “I… Is everything alright? Are you injured?”

Levi gave a curt shake of his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I’m here to see Dr. Iverson.”

The nurse blinked, clearly uncertain how to handle the request. “Do… do you have an appointment?”

Levi exhaled, wishing he’d anticipated this formality. “I don’t. But it’s important.”

She hesitated, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry, but Dr. Iverson generally doesn’t see anyone without an appointment unless it’s a life or death emergency.” The nurse lowered her voice apologetically. “She’s very particular about her schedule, especially these days. She just finished with the last patient and was about to close up.”

Levi swallowed down a flicker of impatience. “I’m not a patient. I’m… a friend.” The word felt awkward in his mouth. He wasn’t sure he had the right to call himself that anymore, but it was better than telling the nurse, I’m the man she hates most in the world.

The nurse studied him in disbelief. “A friend?” she echoed, adjusting her glasses. “I, uh… didn’t know Dr. Iverson had friends in the military. Especially not…” She trailed off, unable to hide her amazement. Captain Levi was practically legend throughout the Walls.

Levi’s gaze flickered down the hallway behind her. He could hear muffled voices—one distinctly Penelope’s, pitched in irritation. The nurse glanced nervously in that direction, clearly torn between her boss’s strict rules and the intimidating presence of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Before she could decide how to proceed, the sound of Penelope’s raised voice drifted closer, echoing off the corridor walls: “I cannot believe you did this again, Preston! Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You’re supposed to be at school, not gallivanting around heaven knows where!”

A boy’s voice—Preston—mumbled something in reply, too faint for Levi to catch. But he recognized the sullen tone, and a pang of guilt tugged at his chest. Preston had skipped school to visit the Scouts HQ that very morning. He must have come home to face his mother’s wrath.

The nurse flushed and tried to regain control of the situation. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said in a hushed tone. “But Dr. Iverson is busy. Perhaps if you come back—”

Levi waved her aside, stepping around the desk. “I’m going to see her,” he said simply.

She gaped, torn between warning him again and letting him pass. Ultimately, she seemed to decide that physically stopping Captain Levi was beyond her abilities. She ducked her head, deciding to let him handle the consequences.

Levi made his way down the hallway, following the sound of Penelope’s voice. Each step tightened the knot in his stomach. Would she slap him again, or worse? He wouldn’t blame her. Still, he had come this far and couldn’t turn back now.

He turned a corner and stopped short. Penelope stood with her back partially turned, clad in her usual fitted attire beneath her white doctor’s coat, that rose-red hair cascading down her shoulders. She was facing Preston, who wore a rumpled school uniform. The boy hung his head, arms crossed defiantly, but Levi could see the guilt in his eyes. Penelope gestured emphatically, her anger palpable.

“How did you even manage it this time?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “I have half a mind to install guards outside the classroom just to keep you inside, Preston.”

Preston mumbled something inaudible, and she huffed in exasperation. “Don’t mumble. Do you know how many times I’ve told you that skipping school isn’t going to solve anything? Where did you go?”

“I… I can handle myself, Mom,” he tried, though the conviction wavered in his voice.

Penelope ground her teeth, frustration evident. “You certainly think so, don’t you? But I told you already, if you skip school again, you’re not going to see the light of day for a month!”

Levi cleared his throat quietly, making his presence known. Penelope stiffened at once, whipping around so fast that her hair flared out behind her. The fury in her golden eyes flared hotter as she recognized him.

Preston, on the other hand, looked simultaneously relieved and terrified. His eyes flicked to Levi, then back to his mother. “Captain Levi—” he started, as though unsure whether to greet him or brace for a storm.

But Penelope cut him off. “You,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at Levi. “What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want you anywhere near my son or my clinic.”

Levi sighed, steeling himself. “Pen,” he said softly, though he recognized her immediate flash of anger at the nickname. “I just—”

���Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You may refer to me as Dr. Iverson. Because that’s all you are to me—a stranger.”

Preston stood quietly, looking between them with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Levi tried to compose himself, taking a step closer but keeping his hands visible, almost in a gesture of surrender.

“Look,” he said, “I didn’t come to start a fight. I just want to talk.” He cast a brief glance at Preston, who held his breath.

Penelope’s eyes blazed. She knew Levi well enough to sense that he wouldn’t leave without saying what he’d come to say. But fury and hurt warred across her features. “What part of get out didn’t you understand?” she demanded. “I have half a mind to call the Military Police right now and have them drag you out in handcuffs.”

Levi felt the sting of her words like a physical blow. “You really hate me that much,” he muttered, although it was more a statement than a question. Her glare answered him well enough.

“If this is about any of that crazy military business going on with the Survey Corps,” Penelope snapped, “find someone else. I want no part of it. And neither does my son.”

Levi’s heart clenched at her protective tone. He remembered their younger days in the Underground, when he had been the one so fiercely protective of her. And now here they were, reversed in every possible way. “This has nothing to do with the scouts,” he said. “I… wanted to talk about Preston. About you. About what happened before.”

Her lips twisted in a mix of rage and sorrow. “What happened before?” She let out a humorless laugh. “You mean when you broke my heart, told me you never wanted to see me again, then ran off to join the scouts and left me?”

Levi winced at the venom in her tone but forced himself not to look away. “That’s not… I never would have left if I’d known you were pregnant,” he managed, the words escaping before he fully considered the weight they carried.

Penelope’s face contorted, and for an instant, Levi thought she might actually draw a weapon. Instead, she raised her hand in a swift movement, aiming another stinging slap at his cheek. He anticipated it this time, catching her wrist in midair. His grip was firm but cautious—he had no desire to hurt her.

“That’s enough,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I’m not going to stand here and let you keep hitting me.”

Their eyes locked, and it was as if the whole hallway froze in that moment. Levi’s heart hammered, and he saw tears threatening behind her furious gaze. The last time she’d looked at him like this, he had turned away, determined to cut her off for her own good. Now, it felt like the hardest thing in the world to stand his ground.

Penelope’s voice broke through, low and trembling with pent-up emotion. “You have no right to my son. No right to talk to me like we’re still… anything. You made your choice, Levi.”

Preston, standing to the side, appeared torn between wanting to intervene and wanting to vanish. The boy’s eyes darted between them, and something shifted in his expression, like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

Levi glanced at the kid, releasing Penelope’s wrist gently. “Is he mine?” He knew the answer, but a part of him needed to hear the words from her mouth, even if it cut him deeper.

Penelope’s lips parted, and for a moment, she seemed caught in an internal struggle. Then her shoulders sagged, and she let out a strained breath. “You left me two weeks before I realized I was pregnant. You never wrote. Never came back. I had to survive on my own and do whatever it took to protect him.” Her voice wavered, but the anger coiled beneath it never fully subsided. “So yes, he’s yours by blood. But you don’t get to waltz into our lives now and pretend to care.”

Levi’s stomach twisted. He’d expected the confirmation, but hearing it spoken aloud tightened a vise around his heart. “Penelope,” he started, but the weight of her name on his tongue felt foreign and heavy. “If I had known—”

She cut him off. “Don’t! You can’t undo what you did. You can’t undo leaving me alone down there. I don’t want your excuses.”

Preston stood utterly still, absorbing every word. The shock on his face was clear as day, though it was mixed with a swirl of anger, curiosity, and maybe a glimmer of longing. He swallowed, and a shaky breath escaped him. “So… you really are my father,” he said, the words sounding strange in his own ears.

Levi’s gaze flicked to Preston. In that moment, he saw the boy’s vulnerability, the confusion, and he felt a pang of regret so sharp it almost brought him to his knees. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”

Penelope’s eyes narrowed, arms crossing over her chest as though she was trying to shield herself. “Well, you know now. But it changes nothing. You have a war to fight, Captain. And I have a son to raise. Alone.”

Preston shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them. He looked as though he wanted to ask a million questions—why Levi left, how Penelope survived, what it meant for them now—but words failed him.

Levi forced himself to stand firm, though every fiber of his being urged him to reach out. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice gruff. “I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I am. Let me at least—”

“No,” Penelope snapped, cutting him off with a sudden fierceness that startled even Preston. “You don’t get to show up and decide you want to fix everything. Preston and I have managed all these years without you, and we’ll continue to do so.”

Levi pressed his lips together. He didn’t expect forgiveness right away—maybe not ever. But a seed of desperation took root inside him. He needed to find a way to bridge this gap, if only for Preston’s sake. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said. “I just want—”

Penelope spun on her heel, clearly finished with the conversation. Her voice came out clipped, filled with finality. “Get. Out. Now.”

Levi lingered, torn between respecting her demand and pushing further. He caught Preston’s gaze. The kid’s wide eyes held a tumult of emotion, but there was also a flicker of understanding.

A silent beat passed, then Levi nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said, each syllable weighed with regret. “I’ll leave.”

He turned and walked down the hall, passing the stunned nurse on his way out. Penelope stood rigidly, arms still crossed, refusing to watch him go. Preston remained rooted in place, silent but trembling with the flood of revelations.

Outside, night had fully fallen, and the soft glow of lanterns lit the street. Levi paused on the clinic steps, the cool air hitting his face. He wanted to storm back in, to try again, but he knew Penelope’s anger was a formidable barrier. For now, he had little choice but to give her space—though every instinct told him that leaving them behind again would only deepen the rift.

He walked to his horse and mounted in silence, heart heavy with a decade’s worth of regret. As he rode away, his thoughts churned: This can’t end like this. I won’t abandon them again. No matter how furious she is, I have to find a way to make it right.

But how he would manage that, in a world crumbling under the weight of Titans, corrupt government, and the scars of his past, remained an agonizing unknown.

…

Penelope stood frozen in the hallway, listening to the fading echo of Levi’s footsteps. For a moment, she felt her legs weaken, and she had to brace a hand against the wall. Preston was still there, gazing at her with wide, worried eyes. She tried to smooth her expression and keep herself from trembling, but it proved impossible. All she could see in her mind was the flicker of guilt in Levi’s eyes, the way he caught her wrist and admitted he hadn’t known about her pregnancy. Memories flooded back, some treasured, others agonizing.

Preston hesitated, glancing at the spot where Levi had disappeared. “Mom… you’re shaking,” he said quietly, voice full of concern.

She swallowed, forcing herself to stand tall. “It’s fine, Preston. Go wait in the lobby. I’ll be right behind you.”

He frowned, not convinced. “I can wait—”

“Go,” she repeated, sterner this time. “I need to finish locking up in here.” She knew that once he was out of her sight, she might finally release the tears she held back.

Preston pursed his lips, clearly wanting to argue, but he relented. He turned down the corridor, each step hesitant, until he rounded the corner. Penelope let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand against her racing heart. The tension and anger coursing through her had peaked; now all that remained was the raw aftermath.

The nurse approached from behind, her face etched with worry. “Dr. Iverson, are you alright? That man—Captain Levi—he left in quite a hurry…”

Penelope’s voice came out tight. “I’m fine,” she said, though she sounded anything but. “I just need a moment, okay?”

The nurse nodded, stepping aside as Penelope pushed open the door to a small staff restroom near the end of the hall. Once inside, Penelope locked the door behind her and dropped her forehead against the mirror above the sink. Her reflection, cast in flickering lantern light, showed wide eyes and a pallid complexion. She breathed heavily, feeling the sharp sting of tears.

“Damn you, Levi,” she whispered to her reflection, voice shaking. She remembered how he used to hold her when they were both just scrappy kids in the Underground, how he protected her from every threat lurking in the shadows. She remembered the heat of his kiss when he finally confessed he loved her. And then she remembered the way he left, scarring her with cruel words to push her away.

A sob built in her chest. She tried to fight it, but her emotions won out. Her breath came in rapid, uneven bursts. Her reflection blurred as tears slipped down her cheeks. She felt lightheaded, nauseated, as though her entire past had collided with her present in an instant. Pressing both palms flat against the sink, she willed her heart to slow down, to keep from spiraling into a full-blown panic attack.

But the memories wouldn’t stop. She saw again the moment she discovered she was pregnant—alone in a cheap rented room on the surface, no friends, no contacts, just the knowledge that Levi was gone for good. For weeks, she had walked around in a numbed haze, terrified and furious, determined to survive only because of the child in her womb. She forced herself through medical school, financed by a deal Levi and Erwin had set up, but with no guidance, no shoulder to cry on. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep, missing him, hating him, loving him all at once?

Her breathing quickened as her throat constricted, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. The weight of her conflicting feelings left her suffocating. She ran the tap, splashing cool water on her face, hoping to quell the storm. One breath, then another. But the tears still came, unstoppable.

A gentle knock at the door made her jerk upright. “Mom?” Preston’s voice carried through the wood. “You okay?”

She wiped her eyes hastily, swallowing hard. Of course he’d worry. Preston always noticed when she was upset. He might not have known the full story, but he knew enough to sense her pain. “I’m fine,” she lied, steadying her voice. “Just give me a minute.”

There was a brief pause. “Okay,” he said softly. “Take your time.”

Penelope closed her eyes, taking another few seconds to gather herself. She couldn’t fall apart now, not in front of her son. Preston needed her to be strong. She took a shaky breath, pushed away from the sink, and ran a hand through her rose-red curls, trying to compose herself. When she finally opened the door, Preston was standing there, eyes filled with concern.

She stepped out, avoided his gaze, and beckoned him to walk with her down the hall. “Come on, Preston,” she said again, a bit more calmly. “We’re going home.”

Preston eyed her, torn between obedience and wanting to help. “Mom, are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yes. I’ll be fine.” Then she added, “But we will be talking about you skipping school again once I get home.” Her tone softened; the usual anger was dulled by exhaustion.

Preston mumbled an agreement, hugged her quickly, and made his way out. Penelope watched him leave, then leaned back against the wall, exhaling. She still felt unsteady, but she would manage. She had to. After a moment, she motioned for the nurse to gather her things. Together, they locked up the clinic.

Through it all, Levi’s face lingered in her mind—a face she had both loved and loathed, the face of a man who had once been her entire world.

…

Meanwhile Levi rode back toward Scout HQ under the dim starlight, the horse’s steady gait doing little to calm his turbulent thoughts. It had been years since he felt such raw emotion. The chaos of Titan battles, the trauma of watching comrades die—that was a familiar darkness he carried. But this was different. This was a personal grief, laced with regret and longing.

As the towering structure of the Scout Regiment’s old estate came into view, Levi slowed his mount. His chest felt tight. If only he had known Penelope was pregnant back then, he would never have walked away. He replayed the moment he broke up with her, telling her cruel things to drive her away so she wouldn’t follow him into the Scouts. He hadn’t wanted her living in constant fear of his death. Yet, in trying to spare her pain, he realized he had inflicted a far deeper wound.

The idea that he could have married her, built a life with her and their son, gnawed at him. Instead, he had left her to raise Preston alone. Guilt chewed at his insides. Preston’s accusatory gaze flashed through his mind. The boy’s eyes had asked silently, Why did you leave us? Levi had no satisfactory answer.

Lost in thought, he failed to notice a figure lurking in the shadows of a nearby building. As Levi guided his horse through a narrow street, someone trailed at a discreet distance, blending with the darkness. A tall man in a brimmed hat, coat draping around his lean form, followed Levi’s route with uncanny silence. For the briefest moment, the man’s lips twitched in something resembling a sly grin.

Kenny Ackerman had watched from afar the entire time Levi was in Wall Sina—first noticing him near Penelope’s clinic, then trailing him as he rode out. It had been years since Kenny laid eyes on the scrawny kid he once took under his wing. Now Levi was grown, known throughout the Walls as Humanity’s Strongest. Kenny’s eyes glinted with mischief and a hint of cold pride. Kid’s turned into a real piece of work, huh?

Kenny kept a sizable distance, not wanting to alert Levi to his presence. He was in no rush. His nephew—if one could call their strange, violent relationship that—had no idea Kenny was still around. And from the look of it, Levi was preoccupied. Kenny suspected it had something to do with that woman. He’d heard rumors of a brilliant doctor from the Underground who made her mark in Wall Sina, rumored to have a fierce temperament and mesmerizing beauty. He put two and two together. People talked, and Kenny made a habit of listening.

He watched Levi dismount at the Scout HQ stables, handing the horse off to a stable hand with barely a word. Levi’s shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world bore down on him. In the soft lantern glow, Kenny could see lines of tension etching Levi’s face. A surging curiosity bubbled up in Kenny. He wanted to know what had rattled Levi so deeply. Had the brat actually found someone who mattered to him beyond the mission, beyond the unrelenting cruelty of the battlefield?

Kenny chuckled quietly to himself. If so, that was a weakness he might exploit—or at least poke at—when the time was right. He tucked his hands into his coat pockets and slipped away into the night, confident that Levi hadn’t sensed him. Patience was a skill Kenny had honed for decades, and he had every intention of revealing himself in a manner that would guarantee the biggest impact.

…

Levi trudged into HQ, ignoring the handful of Scouts who glanced at him, wanting to ask about his day’s absence. He beelined for his quarters, nodding curtly at a watch soldier by the main doors. Once inside the small room he called his own, he leaned against the door, closing his eyes. The memory of Penelope’s furious expression—and the heartbreak simmering beneath it—wouldn’t fade. Neither would the sting of Preston’s baffled longing.

Pulling off his jacket, Levi set it aside and raked his fingers through his hair. He didn’t usually allow himself to wallow in emotions, but this night, the regrets were too thick to brush off. After all the death and pain he’d witnessed, the single act of walking away from Penelope loomed as one of the greatest mistakes of his life. Maybe he should have stayed. Maybe they could have faced the danger together. But he had made his choice, and now that choice was coming back to haunt him in the form of a son he never knew and a woman he still loved, though she clearly despised him.

He exhaled, heavily. Outside the narrow window, the stars shimmered, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him. He could almost imagine Penelope’s voice as a teenager, mocking him for his serious face, or teasing him in a rare moment of laughter. He missed that sound more than he’d ever admit.

As he stood there in silence, a faint prickle ran down his spine, a soldier’s instinct hinting that something was off. He glanced around, half-expecting a threat lurking in the shadowed corners of his room. But it was empty—just him and his regrets. Levi shook off the unsettling feeling. It was probably just the aftershock of the day’s revelations. He was on edge, haunted by ghosts of his past.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the door. For now, he resolved to bide his time. Penelope’s fury was raw, her pain deep. Rushing her would only make things worse. But he couldn’t abandon her again, nor would he abandon Preston. He had no idea how to be a father, but he’d try. He owed them that much.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily. And outside, hidden from his view, a silent figure wandered the streets, taking note of every locked door and guard rotation around the Scout HQ, harboring his own plans that would collide with Levi’s life soon enough.

~

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[wettvagina]

stud!ymir who grips onto the steering wheel of her black hellcat when mikasa tells her that reiner was your boyfriend

stud!ymir who loses her mind once she gets to her dorm room, wondering if she was receiving mixed signals or if she was just reading into yours and hers relationship incorrectly

stud!ymir who sees you at connie's party the following day, wearing the dress she bought your for your birthday, she was ready to go up to you, strike up a flirty-sexual conversation and then back down, that was before she saw Reiner's large hand wrap around your waist, his hand squeezing at the plump curve of your ass as he pulls you closer to him

stud!ymir who eyes you down every chance she gets at connie's stupid party, not even paying attention to eren who was ranting about his girl problems to her

"Huh?" Ymir screws her face into a look of disapproval, barely hearing what Eren said, "I said that you're a lesbian so you probably won't have trouble with it." Eren repeated, his voice going up it's amplitude, "Listen, you smoked too much pot and now you're dick can't get hard, that sounds like a you problem, don't take it out on me." Ymir states before her eyes dart towards you and Reiner, you were grinding onto him in the dense crowd, Ymir scoffed, it was Ymir who you came to when you were desperately in need of 'learning how to kiss' & it was Ymir who you came to when you needed help shaving your back, it was Ymir who you sent your nudes to when you needed clarification on if you looked good. She couldn't understand, she knew that you knew that she was a lesbian, so what was going on? Were you leading her on, on purpose or did you have some sort of heterosexual awakening, because during your somewhat, homo-erotic sleepovers, that you'd label as girls nights, you didn't seem to be even slightly interested in men.

stud!ymir who'd eat you out in her car when you had found out that reiner cheated on you with historia

"Fuckk, I-I just, why would he even do that?" you cried into her arms as you sat in the passenger seat of her car, "I told you, the guy's an asshole." Ymir clicked her tongue, you sniffled, looking up at her with your glossy eyes, they were slightly red and your lips looked swollen, "I wish I could be with someone like you." you started, "You're always here for me." you exclaimed, Ymir's eyes widened before she smirked, "Get in the backseat." she commanded. You wasted no time, you knew this procedure, you'd get in the backseat, take off your skirt, then let Ymir do the work. She'd get on the floor of her car, settling between your legs before she used her index and middle finger to slide away the thin piece of fabric covering your wet pussy, her pink tongue darted to your hole, drawing circles onto it before reaching up to your clit, she'd use one hand to spread your pussy lips, then when she heard you moan, she'd utilize her other hand to finger you, slipping her index and middle finger into you with ease as she pumped in and out of you. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." you'd moan out, watching down at her head as she ate you out, completely devouring your sloppy cunt, making slurping noises as she curled her fingers in your hole. "Mmmm- fuck!" you groaned when she started sucking on your clit, if it's one thing for sure, Ymir doesn't play when she's giving head. That's why it's so pleasurable, she loves hearing you moan as she's completely engrossed in your pussy, "Shit- shit- shit!" you whine as she hits that sweet spot with her fingers, sending you off edge as you felt a sudden tightness release. "Oh shit."you sighed out, "Shit." you panted, looking down at her, she looked up at you, her eyes heavy lidded as she smirked.

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You" - EREN/READER - REVERSE ISEKAI (part 8 - FINALE)

reverse isekai, time travel, memory loss

post canon

reader/eren

word count: 3912

<- PART 7

*note: This part includes the song "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez (spotify / youtube) and I very strongly recommend listening to it once that scene starts. You'll be able to tell when to play it.

And now, for the end:

*****

You thought that with Mikasa here, Eren would finally start to act more normal.

You thought wrong.

In fact, it almost feels like he’s avoiding you more now. 

You can barely catch sight of him in the crowded restaurant, as the hours pass and everyone gets a little more drunk. On the occasions that you do see him, he’s always tucked away in a corner talking to Armin. Or Mikasa. Or Jean or Sasha or Connie.

The fact that it’s them isn’t weird, they’re his best friends, but what is weird is that you’re not included. What is weird is the way the conversation comes to a sudden stop when you approach. What is weird is the sudden tension that washes over Eren as his back straightens, he takes in a breath, and his eyes immediately go to anywhere but you. 

It’s. Weird.

And it hurts so much that you constantly have to remind yourself not to cry.

You’re trying to piece together what happened. What you did wrong. But you genuinely have no idea! Last night had been date night. You’d gone out to see a movie that Eren had been dying to see and then you came home. You and Eren made dinner together before you fell into bed and passed out next to each other, feeling like your life was perfect.

But then you’d woken up this morning and things had been far from perfect. 

Things had been the exact opposite of perfe-

“You look like shit,” Hitch says as she leans against the bar next to you.

“Lovely to see you too, Hitch.”

Hitch is more of a friend-in-law than anything. A member of Eren’s social circle that you were sucked into when the two of you started dating. The only times you've really been “close” to her have been during drunken meet-ups in bar bathrooms when you've both sobbed about how pretty the other is while vowing to be best friends for life.

Normal girl stuff.

“Trouble in paradise~?” She teases as you roll your eyes and take another sip of your drink.

“No.” You immediately answer (despite the obvious lie).

Hitch laughs. “Alright, so the way you keep glaring at your boyfriend is some new form of foreplay then?”

Your cheeks burn. “Hitch that’s- you’re so gross!”

Hitch shrugs. “I’m just calling it like it is.” 

Her eyes follow yours and she looks over at Eren. He’s on the other side of the restaurant with Armin, speaking in hushed tones with a serious expression on his face. 

“I’m worried he’s about to break up with me.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

In a shocking turn of events, Hitch doesn’t tease you about it. “Really?” She asks seriously.

“...yeah…”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s just-” you sigh, “he was so weird this morning and he’s been avoiding me all day. When he looks at me it’s completely different from the way he normally looks at me. It’s like he’s- like he’s mad or something. I don’t get it.”

Hitch shrugs. “Did you guys get into a fight?”

“No.”

“Then he’s probably just being a weird guy about something. I bet you said something stupid and now he’s all in his head. Men are like that, you know. Stupidly emotional over the tiniest things.”

The world really must be fucked, because what Hitch is saying almost… makes sense.

“At the risk of regretting this,” you start before you tear your eyes away from Eren and look over at her, “what should I do?”

Hitch snickers and smiles that stupid Cheshire cat smile that you hate. “If it were me,” which you’re glad it’s not, given Hitch’s awful track record, “I’d give him a nice little reminder of what he’d be missing if he left.”

“Like what?”

“Quickie in the bathroom. I dunno.”

Your cheeks burn for the second time. “Hitch it’s the opening night of Niccolo’s restaurant!!”

She laughs loudly. “And what a perfect way to christen the handicap stall!”

“I can’t believe you…” You mumble as you stare back at your glass.

Then again… maybe she’s not completely wrong. 

Not about screwing your boyfriend in the bathroom of your friend’s newly opened restaurant, of course! But about giving Eren a reminder. It didn’t seem like an awful idea, anyway.

You stare down at your drink.

And then you chug the rest of it.

*****

“So we’re just born again or something and it’s- it’s like no one even cares about before?” Eren asked, scowling at the table he and Armin were sitting at. Mikasa had filled him in about how everyone’s memories get triggered at some point, but she’d left it at that after they’d gotten distracted talking about-...

His eyes naturally trail across the restaurant until they fall to you.

His cheeks flush.

Damit.

He looks away.

Armin laughs softly. “I know it’s confusing right now, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Doubt that,” Eren mumbled as he returned to the subject at hand. He takes a nervous breath. “I-... I killed too many people to get off that easy.”

Armin was silent for a moment. “Yes we-... we did.”

Eren slowly looks over at Armin. Armin, who was staring into his glass as he ran his thumb up and down the condensation, seemingly lost in thought.

“The thing about this life though,” Armin starts, “is that everyone has an understanding that it’s… it’s different. None of the stuff that happened before happened here. Yes, you still need to make amends but- but everyone gets it. Everyone understands that our last lives were complicated and instead of focusing on that we just try to enjoy the chance we’ve been given to live again.” 

Eren looks around the restaurant at the people he knew hundreds of years ago who are alive again under completely different circumstances. 

Marco is playing darts with Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt. He hits a bullseye and all four of them cheer. 

Sasha is sneaking a french fry off of Gabi’s plate. Gabi smacks her and with a scowl but Sasha flashes her a peace sign and sticks the french fry into her mouth. 

Samuel wraps an arm around Connie’s shoulder and ruffles his short hair as Daz laughs next to them. 

And then his eyes fall to you.

You, chatting with Hitch, of all people, at the bar.

You’re blushing about something, and he can’t help but admit to himself that you look cute when you do it. His heart does what it’s done all day when he looks at you and it starts pounding in his chest. He doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t get it. Who are you and how do you fit in with everyone here? You’re the only person in the entire restaurant that he doesn’t know, and yet the way you talk to everyone makes it seem like you’ve known them all just as long as he has.

Maybe even longer.

“You’re probably wondering who she is.” Armin smiles.

Eren’s cheeks turn slightly pink (again) and he quickly looks away from you as if he’s ashamed that he’d been caught.

And he is, sort of.

He is ashamed that he doesn’t remember someone who seems to matter so much.

“I wasn’t wondering…” Eren lies.

Instead of prodding, Armin just laughs and takes a sip of his beer. “Not everyone is like us,” Armin tells him, as he places his glass back on the table. 

“You mean reincarnated or- or whatever this is?”

“Yeah,” Armin replies, “exactly.”

“Why’s that?”

“No one knows.” Armin answers. “We all have our guesses, obviously, but it’ll be impossible to ever prove any of them right.”

“What do you think?” If anyone had it figured out (or at least mostly figured out) it would have been Armin.

Armin pauses for a moment. “I think… I think that this life gets given to people who deserve a second chance. People who didn’t get to live happily the first time around, so now they can try again.”

“What’s your proof of that?”

“No proof,” Armin laughs, “just a feeling.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Eren mumbles. “You’re just… different now.”

Armin throws his head back and laughs. “Hopefully not too different.”

“Nah. It’s a good thing. You were too much of a know-it-all before.” The corners of Eren’s lips tug into a small smile as he says it and it feels- it feels good to smile. He didn’t get to do much of that in his last few years alive. 

Armin scoffs before he laughs. “Rude Eren, rude.”

Eren’s smile grows wider as their eyes meet and he feels… alive.

For the first time since he woke up, he feels alive.

“Hey, Eren.”

The smile immediately wipes off his face as you appear next to him.

Coffee. Marker. Spaghetti and wine.

Eren rapidly blinks as he reaches up to rub his temples. “The fuck is-”

Your hands are in his. You pull them away from his head and Eren’s eyes flutter open to see you right in front of him. Just like how he’d woken up that morning.

He quickly looks over at Armin, wordlessly asking for his best friend to save him.

Instead, Armin smiles and says: “I’ll give you guys some alone time.”

“But Armin I-”

“What?” He asks with a short laugh. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to spend time with your girlfriend?”

Eren’s mouth slams shut. He feels like it’d be weird if he denied it because obviously the version of him that knew her would have been jumping at the opportunity. 

“Don’t stress about it, Eren,” Armin tells him as he places a hand on Eren’s shoulder. He suddenly gets a suspicion that his friend knows about the random thoughts that keep coming to mind. “Just take it slow and you’ll figure it out.” Armin pats his shoulder before walking away.

“R-Right…” Eren mumbles.

Ever so slowly, he looks back to you.

Your hands are still holding his as you stare up at him. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted and taking in shallow breaths. It looks like you’re studying him. Watching. Waiting for some sort of clue that’ll give you a big grand “ah-hah!” moment. 

And it makes his heart race. 

His fingers twitch with the desire to reach up and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as if- as if he knows what it would feel like to do that.

As if he’d done it before.

“Follow your instincts,” Mikasa had told him, “no matter which lifetime, you’ve always been pretty good at doing that.”

Eren swallows a lump in his throat and, for the first time all day, he lets the part of him that has been begging him to talk to you, to be next to you, to touch you-

He lets it take over.

He lets his instincts take over.

His fingers delicately ghost across your cheek, which starts to warm under his touch. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear but his fingers linger there for a moment longer, admiring your soft skin and the way it sends a rush from his fingers right through to his heart.

Laughing as you walk through the park on campus. Taking pictures at your university graduation. Drunkenly stumbling down the street after a night out.

This time it’s not single sensations with no context of where they’re from. This time the thoughts- the memories, Eren realizes, are more vivid. More real. And it’s you, clearly you, front and center in all of them.

It’s you.

“I’m-” he speaks without even knowing he’s doing it. It’s his instincts again. The part of him that knows you. “I’ve been- um… distant.”

“Yeah..” you answer softly.

“I just- My head’s all- I-”

“Eren.” You cut him off and he immediately looks back at you.

The night sky. The stars. A swirl of green and blue.

You smile as you reach up to cup his hand, the hand that’s still against your cheek, in yours. “I love you.” You tell him.

The words tumble from Eren’s mouth before he even has a second to catch them: “I love you too.”

“Let's clear up some space, guys!” Niccolo calls as everyone begins to push the tables aside to make room for a dance floor.

You and Eren, snapped out of whatever moment you’d been having, jump apart.

Before the music even starts Sasha excitedly dances around as she pulls Niccolo along with her in anticipation. 

Yesterday, you would have done the same thing as Sasha and tugged your boyfriend to the dance floor without the option of saying ‘no’. But today- today things are different and you still don’t know why.

You’re worried that if you asked him to dance he’d…

The music starts and you can’t help glancing over at Eren only to realize he’s already looking at you.

Your cheeks flush a light pink in response and, for some reason, his do the same. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where you think he’s going to turn away and avoid you like he’d been doing all day.

And then…

Georgia~

Eren holds a hand out to you.

Wrap me up in all your- I want you…

You slowly take it.

In my arms- Oh, let me…

He pulls you closer.

…hold you

His other hand presses to your lower back.

I’ll never let you go again, like I did

Oh, I used to say~

And then you’re slowly moving, just the two of you, sucked into your own little world as you become completely oblivious to everyone around you.

He avoids your eyes but still finds a way to steal little glances here and there. He seems-

Embarrassed. 

Just like he did the day you accidentally ran a black marker over his new shirt.

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her- I found you

“Welcome back, stranger.” You smiled at Eren as he entered the coffee shop for the second time.

Georgia, pulled me in I asked to- love her

“Are you asking me on a date?” “Don’t laugh, you’ll hurt my ego.”

Once again You fell, I- caught you

You both jump as you walk side-by-side and your hands accidentally brush against each other. You look over at him at the same time he tries to steal a glance at you. And then you both burst out laughing.

“I would never fall in love again until I found her”

You kiss for the first time on a park bench.

I said, “I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”

“I love you.”  “That’s… so cringe.”

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

You excitedly threw yourself into his arms as he placed his last moving box in your apartment.

I found you

The memories come back to Eren in vivid flashes as you move around the dance floor. It should be overwhelming- having two lives suddenly meshing together in his head but it’s- it’s not. It’s-

“Eren?” You ask, just like you’d been doing all day and never receiving an answer. “Are you okay?”

He slides a red velvet box into his bedside table before you burst into the room and ruin the surprise.

“Yeah,” Eren answers softly, “I’m-...” 

I would never fall in love again until I found her

“I’m great.” He smiles.

I said, “I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, gently stroking his thumb across your skin.

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

Your lips meet.

I found you…

You come to a slow stop on the dance floor as you kiss, the memories of his lives- both of them, settling in their entirety in Eren’s mind.

He might not have known you in his last lifetime, but he found you in this one.

And in that moment, to Eren, that was all that mattered.

Eren pulls away, smiling down at you as his thumb brushes across your cheek. He wonders what would happen if he did try to explain it to you. Sure, he might sound crazy, but he has a feeling that you’d believe him. That you’d understand. That you’d hear him out and be just as equally amazed as he is when you realize what an amazing opportunity he’s been given, they've all been given, to live for the second time.

So maybe he’ll tell you one day.

Maybe they all will.

Eren settles on the promise to himself. The promise that one day he’d be honest. For now though, he just wanted to enjoy the life he’d been given. 

And the fact that because of it, he found you.

********

“It looks great, Niccolo,” Eren tells his friend with a wide grin as he firmly shakes his hand. “Bet you’ll have the most popular restaurant on the whole block.”

“My only competition is a bakery that’s closed every day but Sundays,” Niccolo replies.

“See? You’re already killing it!”

Niccolo laughs and shakes his head. “Glad you could make it, Eren.” He says, patting Eren’s shoulder as he passes him a knowing glance. “And… we’re glad to have you back.”

You aren’t entirely sure what Niccolo means by it, but you figured that today was weird enough that you aren’t going to question it.

“Nicoooooooooo…” Sasha drunkenly drawls as she leans against the door of the restaurant. “There’s no more wineeeee…”

“Oh god.” Niccolo sighs.

You snicker as he turns around and catches his shit-faced fiancé before she ends up face-first against the pavement.

“Ready to go?” Eren asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before he presses his lips to the top of your head.

“Yep!”

You and Eren were one of the last few to leave. Everyone else had gotten way too drunk to stay any longer, but Eren hadn’t wanted to go home. He was having too much fun dancing, laughing, and bouncing around the room like a complete social butterfly.

“You had a lot of energy tonight.” You joke as the two of you walk down the street. 

Eren laughs. “I was excited.”

“Yeah, I could tell. I think you talked to everyone there, even Annie.”

He scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You normally try to avoid her after that time she threw you over her shoulder and kicked your ass.”

“No, no, no you’re remembering that wrong.”

“I am not!”

“Totally are. I kicked her ass, remember?”

“Okay,” you snicker, “just keep telling yourself that.” 

It doesn’t take you long to reach the train station. Eren’s arm is still around your shoulder as you take a seat on one of the benches. The sign above the station indicates that your train should be there in five minutes, but you don’t really care how long it takes.

With a sigh, you lean against Eren’s chest and he secures his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder as he does it.

“Cold?” He asks.

“Nah.” You reply. 

He pulls off his jacket and places it around you anyway.

“Now you’re gonna be cold, dumbass.” You mumble, tightening his jacket around you nonetheless.

Eren scoffs. “I’m too sexy to get cold.”

“So you’re saying I’m not sexy?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “You’re alright.”

You playfully slap his chest but he grabs your hand before you can pull it away. “Hey.” He says seriously as he curls his fingers around yours.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” He kisses the tips of your fingers. “For… For being weird earlier.” He kisses you again.

“...It’s okay.” You mumble.

“No, it’s not. I was being distant for no reason and it was probably really shitty for you.”

You curl your fingers around his and squeeze his hand as you look down into your lap. “It-… yeah it kinda sucked.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Eren reassures you.

“Then… what happened?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but just as quickly closes it again. “It’s-... It’s not something that's easy to talk about.”

He thinks about the promise he made to himself earlier. The promise to tell you one day. To tell you the entire story, not leaving out a single detail, starting the moment he woke up from a weird dream in Shiganshina and ending when Mikasa’s blade met his neck.

He needs time though.

Time to think about how to say it. To tell it. To put it in a way that he can convey how wrong he was in his last life and how much better he wants to be in this one.

Time.

One of the two major things he was missing in his first life.

Time and…

“It’s okay, Eren.” Your words cut through his thoughts. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

The way you look at him, with so much trust in your eyes, makes Eren smile.

So he promises it to himself again. He promises that he’ll tell you, one day, after a little bit of time.

Eren reaches over to cup your cheek in his hands and pull you in for a kiss.

You sigh against his lips as your eyes slide closed and the comforting familiarity of his kiss makes everything in the world seem right.

It makes everything seem perfect, once again.

And you don’t want to change a single thing-

Crisp hospital sheets. The afternoon light against his bandaged face. Brightly coloured pills in a paper cup.

You freeze as Eren pulls away from the kiss.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I snuck you an extra apple, don’t tell anyone or they’ll accuse me of picking favourites.”

“Hey,” he brushes his fingers across your forehead.

“Why would I skip out on the festival, it sounds like fun!”

“What’s going on?”

Fire. Rubble. Screaming.

He calls your name.

A grip. A squeeze. A pop.

“Can you hear me?”

The deafening sound of complete silence. Followed by the terrifying sight of pitch black.

Your eyes flutter open. 

You don’t recognize where you are. You don’t recognize the sounds, or the smells, or the loud voice that comes from nowhere saying: “next train arriving, please stand behind the yellow line”.

But you do recognize something.

Someone.

And the sight of him, freshly shaved, hair cut and styled, free of bandages with no crutches to make up for a missing leg- it makes your heart flutter, just like it always did in that hospital room.

You smile, because what other reaction could you possibly have when you’re looking at the man you were forbidden to love, but loved so deeply despite it. 

You say the only thing that makes sense, given the miracle before you:

“Are we in heaven, Mr. Kruger?”

Suddenly Eren knows exactly who you are.

Suddenly, he remembers why he’d tried so hard to forget.

“She’s distracting you, Eren,” Zeke said, his baseball on the bench between them. “She’s not,” was Eren’s only reply.

But now Eren knew he could never forget again. Not the longing. Not the guilt. Not the feeling of bones breaking, the smell of fresh blood, or the bursting of flesh between his fingers.

“Then kill her,” Zeke said casually like the words didn’t mean a single thing.

No. Eren would never forget again.

He’d never forget how it felt when he, the attack titan, crushed you in his hands and discarded your lifeless body against the battered streets of Liberio...

[THE END]

[thryth-gaming]

How to be a Werewolf (MotW)

How to be a Werewolf is a webcomic by Shawn Lenore centered around the experiences of a woman who was bitten by a werewolf when she was five years old and has spent much of her life dealing with how to control her wolf-side to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone. It's a great comic and when it drops (usually Tuesday and Wednesday, sometimes only one of those two) it is one of the highlights of my week. It's also one of those stories that really hits that slice-of-life alongside adventure type stories I love so much and which inspired the Mundane Monstrosities team playbook.

This write up uses material from:

the Hardcover edition of the core Monster of the Week book:

The Initiate hunter playbook

The Mundane hunter playbook

No Limits

Use Magic

Trust your Gut

The Tome of Mysteries supplement:

The Searcher hunter playbook

No Limits

Trust Your Gut

The upcoming Slayer's Survival Kit supplement:

The Mundane Monstrosities team playbook

The Changeling hunter playbook

So... it only feels right to do a build of the group as a Monster of the Week hunter team. However, one of the problems of doing this is that How to be a Werewolf has a LOT of characters and MotW is usually best with around 3-4 players. That said, one of the level-up advancements is to create a second hunter to play alongside your own. So that could be part of it.

As a note, to be honest, How to be a Werewolf doesn’t follow the same story structure that MotW series usually use. Instead of a series of short dangers, HtbaW instead has extended, ongoing arcs and troubles. But this is why it is an inspiration rather than a direct one to one conversion.

Anyway.... I'm going to do them as they are at the start, which will still involve some spoilers, but not the biggest ones. I considered having Marin as one of the characters, but decided to keep the focus around Malaya. So the characters I'm building are:

Malaya, The Changeling

Vincent, The Mundane

Elias, The Initiate

Charlene, The Searcher

I'm also going to give characters two level-ups and the Team playbook a single improvement to account for some of the early strips.

First, let's go ahead and start with the Team Playbook.

Walters Pack - Mundane Monstrosities

Three's a few team playbooks aimed at representing a case where all or most of a team are supernatural people in one form or another. Most of them written by me, all of them from the new Slayer's Survival Kit which has been on pre-order a bit and is going into sale sometime in summer:

Escaped Experiments (me) - representing a group of people who were experimented on and escaped a sinister Project that wants to reclaim them. - Definitely doesn't fit the Walters pack.

Coven (me) - a collection of supernatural beings who have made a vow to fight evil, explicitly designed to allow multiple people to play the same type of supernatural being, like being a pack of werewolves. - The Walters pack doesn't go out of their way like this.

Good Monsters (Michael Sands) - a collection of monsters who all try to keep each other in check and supported, trying to live their best lives. - Doesn't really describe the series because most of the characters don’t struggle with being a danger to humanity.

Mundane Monstrosities (me) – a collection of people who have normal, everyday lives, but also happen to have various supernatural abilities. It’s basically slice-of-life interrupted by occasional danger. – And this is what I’m going with.

For style, I’m going to go with the top of the list “Life, Interrupted” which means that at the end of each game system, the players would ask “were we able to enjoy some normal life?” which definitely sounds a bit like the theme of the story in the comic.

Something else the Mundane Monstrosity asks the players to do is set what kind of community the characters come from. And I'm going with "Weird Town".

For enemies, at the start, the team enemy is certainly Connie Greensmith, but on a more general nature, I’d say the overall enemy of the team is “generational trauma”. And for allies, I’m going with The Ross Pack.

For the initial team move I’m going to go with too normal to be weird meaning that most people overlook them when they do or talk about something weird, like magic or werewolves. Moving on to the initial two points of assets, I’m going to go with borrowing innocent front from the Suburban Watch Group team playbook and then I’m adding a clubhouse from Mundane Monstrosities. So they have both a regular business (the coffee shop) and a private location to hang out (the Walters house).

Also, as a note, each character will get an extra move from a list which is how Mundane Monstrosities insures that everybody is at least a little supernatural.

For the improvement, I'm going to give them another move: casual magic.

This accounts for places where the werewolves and witches do just casually supernatural things without having much stress about it.

Malaya Dysangco Walters – The Changeling

I considered going with the Monstrous, and it would certainly fit, because that is about struggling with a curse that separates you from humanity. But the overall story of How to be a Werewolf and Malaya’s relationship to it better fits the Changeling Playbook which is about struggling with ignorance of your own nature. And given that most of the werewolves in the story are just people, it doesn’t feel right setting them up as the Monstrous when I made Changeling to cover this general situation. If the standard werewolf was a maladjusted, cursed people barely under control, then Monstrous would feel more appropriate to me.

To start, for the ratings, I’m going to shuffle around the standard assortment because none of the five default rating lines really feel quite right. The creator of the game has said this is perfectly fine as long as you reach the same balance as the rest of the lines in the playbook.

So, I think:

Charm +1

Cool +2

Sharp +1

Tough +0

Weird -1

So, Charm makes her good with people, accounting for her customer service experience. The Cool stat means she’s better than most people at keeping a cool head and handling hazards. Cool is also the stat that handles the help out move so she’s good at teamwork. Malaya is pretty observant and intelligent, so I gave her a good sharp. Tough is about average. Actually judging how survivor stats compare to hunter stats, she might actually be better than the average person at +0. Anyway, that governs fighting and protecting people. Having her weird very low feels strange… but I do think it fits given her troubles controlling her werewolf side at the start of the series.

As a note, for those that don’t know, the most common way experience is gained in Monster of the Week is by rolling low on a move, so having a low stance on a stat you’ll be using a lot is a way to get experience quickly… and add a lot of amusing drama along the way.

For the unknown heritage, she obviously understands that she’s a werewolf, but she doesn’t really know what that means, and for the three issues she has, I’m picking erratic power, strange thoughts, and unearned reputation. This covers her power doing things she doesn’t understand, the difficult to control emotions, and also the way people that meet her expect she knows a lot more about this stuff than she does.

For her moves, all Changelings get Glamour, which lets her look human and also allows her to get one 10+ result per session in a way that immediately reveals what she is and causes her unknown heritage to give her trouble… so like what happened when she shapeshifted, scared off Aubrey, and ended up a bit regressed into her wolf-mind for quite a while. The werewolf form being her "true appearance" isn't quite right, but it's close enough to fit the situation.

Then she gets two more moves. One of these is going to be they are my people which lets her masterfully protect someone once per session and gives her a bonus when dealing with her werewolf issues. And then I'm going to give her inhuman talent and we'll have to specify a narrow sort of "magic" for her to specialize. Since her weird move is going to be No Limits instead of Use Magic I'm going to think of a narrow physical thing she's good at. I'm not entirely sure about this, but I'm going to go with endurance, so she has an bonuses when she uses No Limits to persevere against pain, fatigue, or other such things, possibly including fear. Seriously, if there's anything you can say about Malaya, it's that she's a bit of a determinator.

And, of course, like pretty much every werewolf character, her basic weird move will be No Limits because, yes, of course I want the implausible and superhuman action hero physicality for the werewolves. Just how much is "physically possible" for a character varies based on how fantastical the table wants to get and on the sort of character the person who has the move. A baseline human with no limits is going to be like an action TV or movie star while a super-soldier or werewolf is going to hold helicopters in place while they try to fly away.

(also, just look up some of the weird and amazing things real life people have done... like surviving falls from airplanes into jungles)

Now, since this is a Mundane Monstrosities team, she gets an extra move from a small list drawn from other playbooks.

And Malaya is going to take shapeshift, because of course she is. And obviously she turns into a wolf and wolf-like shapes, because werewolves.

For Malaya's improvements, I'm going to give her +1 Weird to bring that up to 0 and then I'm going to have her borrow the natural attack ability from the Monstrous, while not usually stated as a move, the creator of the game has stated he sees no reason it can't be borrowed.

So, with this, she gets either two base attacks or one base attack with an extra. I'm giving her two base attacks in the form of Claws (2-harm, hand) and Fangs (3-harm, intimate). For reference, "hand" is like sword and boxing range while "intimate" is grappling range. 2-harm is the same damage as most swords and guns, 3-harm is the same damage as big-melee weapons and shotguns. This is largely unimportant within the context of the actual comic, but adding it in makes me feel like I'm adding in something that's missing.

As a further note, I have definitely done the thing where I level-up to gain a move and then played it off as "no, I could always do this, I'd just never showed you until now."

EDIT: I originally borrowed Natural Weapon instead of Breed as a whole because the characters initially didn't seem to present the common Monstrous weaknesses, but it occurs to me that Wolvesbane shows up as a plot point in one or two storylines, so giving them that vulnerability is appropriate. I won't repeat this under Elias's section, but I will append both character sheet write-ups below.

Charlene Masters - The Searcher

I waffled a bit on what playbook to go with for Charlene. She is a witch that uses magic, so The Spooky might have fit except that her magic doesn't really have a dark side. Initiate and Hex have fortune teller moves, but those can be borrowed later. Charlene isn't part of an organization really (which rules out Initiate) and doesn't involve herself in reckless and dangerous magic, which means not really a Hex.. She doesn't really do combat magic either, so Spell-slinger doesn't fit. Spooktacular is tempting, but it's one of her parents that is the performer not her. Instead, I decided to look into how she had a sort of vision that led her north and go with Searcher. Searcher is someone that looks for answers. The normal application is to the cryptozoologist or UFOlogist, but a witch who received a vision fits.

So, with that said, I'm going with the following line for her ratings:

Charm +0

Cool +1

Sharp +1

Tough -1

Weird +2

So, she's not particularly good with people, and she's noted that she wouldn't deal with people as well as Malaya does. As a note, Charm isn't really about how likeable you are. You could be terribly rude and annoying and have high Charm and very likeable with low Charm. Charm is more about how well you leverage people to do what you want. She does keep her head on and is observant. In a fight, she doesn't go power to power, she's sneaky, so Tough isn't her forte. And she is quite good at the magic, so yeah, she's getting high Weird.

So now on to moves. Anyone who takes Searcher gets the first encounter move and has to choose one of the variations. For Charlene both psychic event and cosmic insight fit, and I'm going to go with psychic event giving her a chance to use the sensitive basic weird move if she focuses.

For her other two moves, she's going to get guardian representing her spirit crow friend and Ockham's Broadsword representing how she's a bit in the know on a lot of supernatural things.

For her main basic Weird move, she's definitely getting use magic because she's definitely a witch. For a long time, that was the only basic Weird move and it is still a good default. As a note, use magic has a long list of possible effects, glitches, and requirements so I'm just going to post the basic move here. And that can be expanded on by taking some moves (usually by adding to the list of possible effects).

Now, on to her "Minor Weirdness" option for being in a Mundane Monstrosities game. The ones that stand out are inhuman talent, the sight, and third eye. I think I'm going to go with inhuman talent and define it as her skill with illusions. See where I posted the text for it on Malaya's stuff.

For her level up improvements I'm going to give her +1 Charm (to be honest, all the characters in Malaya's pack are pretty empathic and good at negotiating and working with reasonable people) and then I'm borrowing The Show: Magic and Illusions from the Spooktacular.

She hasn't actually been part of a show, but that move still fits her powers to a tee.

Elias Ross - The Initiate

So, I considered Elias for both the Professional and the Initiate. Each of these deals with a character whose main story is about their connection with an organization, so both work for his situation. The Professional was tempting due to the bureaucratic way werewolf society operates feeling a bit more modern agency rather than ancient sect. But I decided Initiate worked better over all. Also... for stats, there's a weird rating line for the Initiate that creates one great stat, one good one, and three average ones, so I'm going with that.

Charm +0

Cool +0

Sharp +0

Tough +1

Weird +2

So, he's not particularly bad at anything, but he's good in a fight and in controlling his powers.

First let's define his Sect, giving it two good traditions and one bad tradition. For this situation, I'm going with werewolf society as a whole.

Good Traditions: Like Family, Modernized

Bad Tradition: Factionalized

I considered grabbing bureaucratic from the Professional's list of tags, but on the whole, I suspect that's a symptom of the factionalization rather than the core problem. Like Family is one of the new tags from Slayer's Survival Kit that can apply to either organization and there is a counter to that which is False Family for cases where the "like family" statement is a lie. In this case, the organization very much is like family and in many cases very much is family in a literal blood-related sense.

Now, for Initiate moves. Every Initiate gets this unnamed move I refer to as "the Sect move".

Then the Initiate gets three moves to choose from. This is different from Changeling and Searcher, each of which has a strong, beneficial mandatory move and then gives two optional ones. In the Initiate's case, the mandatory move is more neutral and could even be seen as a downside. Therefore it also gets three optional moves.

For the basic Weird move, like Malaya he's taking No Limits and also like Malaya, his Minor Weirdness pick from Mundane Monstrosities is shapeshifter. (see above where I pasted those two moves earlier)

For these optional moves, I'm going with mentor, that old black magic, and helping hand. This also accounts for him being a bit good at teaching (tough you would expect his Cool to be higher in that case, possibly improving that would be the first thing he chooses on leveling up). Mentor covers his relationship with his mother pretty well. That old black magic usually applies to use magic, in this case, I think it will represent him using his senses... which with the shapeshifter bonus could give him a +1 on top of his Weird for a total of +3 in some forms.

As a note, when a move gives someone new effects for use magic and they don't have use magic I generally assume they have use magic only for those effects or I attach it to their actual weird move. Attaching this investigative ability to his No Limits works well and would go towards him being good at investigation while also being a bit unobservant in some other situations.

For his advancements I'm giving him +1 Cool, because he's good at teamwork, and I'm having him also borrow the Monstrous natural weapons like Malaya did.

Vincent Dysangco Walters – The Mundane

So, now we come to the fourth major character introduced at the start of the story, Vincent, Malaya's protectively taciturn older brother. He's a bit younger than her, "hot in a Vulcan way" as Elias notes and while his sister's been a werewolf for as long as he's been alive, he himself is pretty normal. So, I'm putting him as The Mundane.

As to ratings' lines, every Mundane has +2 Charm, just like every Initiate has +2 Weird. Changeling and Searcher from above juggle things about. Again, this doesn't seem like a thing you'd get out of the way Vincent is very silent, but like Malaya, he does a good job at working with people, even a little bit better than her. And I am again going to play with exact placement of values a bit here and go with this:

Charm +2

Cool +1

Sharp +1

Tough -1

Weird +0

This makes him a bit more accepting of weirdness than Malaya is and thus better able to go along with it. He keeps a cool head well and is observant as well. In the context of the characters in this comic, however, he's not that great in a fight. So low Tough.

Mundanes do not have any mandatory moves and they get to choose three moves from their playbook's list. So, I'm going to go with these options: the power of heart, what could go wrong, and always the victim.

These moves cover Vincent's occasional tendency to need rescuing, his ability to tip things in the heroes' favor, and his practice of pushing into situations that should intimidate most non-magical people.

As for his Weird basic move, I'm going for something a bit low-key and taking Trust Your Gut. Which is an ability to just get hunches that point important things that will drive the plot forward.

Now, as to the Mundane Monstrosity bonus move from Minor Weirdness I'm going to give him another low-key ability and give him the Divine move soothe as it is one of those on the list. Because Vincent is weirdly good at calming people down and comforting them. (Not so weird when you consider his upbringing, but that's kind of the point.)

For his advancements, I'm going to have him take a move from another playbook and have it be The Searcher and take Cosmic Insight because even when he is scared and upset, he holds it together and doesn't usually lose his tactical/crisis mind. Important distinction, this move doesn't say you aren't terrified, it just says you don't have to roll to deal with it.

I'm also going to have him take another Mundane move, let's get out of here which lets him use Charm for the Protect Someone roll. Note that despite the name, he doesn't have to actually leave the scene, he just has to talk someone through saving themselves.

All told, the character sheets look like this:

The Walters Pack

Team Playbook: Mundane Monstrosities

Team Style: Life, Interrupted - “Were we able to enjoy some normal life?”

Community: Weird Town

Team Ally: The Ross Pack

Team Enemy: Generational Trauma (currently Connie Greensmith)

Team Move: Too Normal to be Weird, Casual Magic

Team Assets: Innocent Front, Clubhouse

Improvements

Take another Team Playbook move: Casual Magic

-------

Malaya Dysangco Walters – The Changeling

Charm +1

Cool +2

Sharp +1

Tough +0

Weird +0

Unknown Heritage: Werewolf

Unearned Reputation

Erratic Power

Strange Thoughts

Moves

Basic Weird Move: No Limits

Changeling Moves: Glamour, They are my people, Inhuman Talent: Endurance

Borrowed Moves: Breed: Werewolf (Monstrous)

Minor Weirdness: Shapeshifting

Harm: 0/7 (Unstable at 4, Dead at 8)

Breed (Werewolf)

Claws (2-harm, hand)

Fangs (3-harm, intimate)

Vulnerability: Wolvesbane

Improvements

Get +1 Weird, max +3

Take a move from another playbook: Natural Weapon (Monstrous)

Charlene Masters - The Searcher

Charm +1

Cool +1

Sharp +1

Tough -1

Weird +2

Moves

Basic Weird Move: Use Magic

First Encounter: Psychic Event

Searcher Moves: Guardian, Ockham's Broadsword

Borrowed Moves: Magic & Illusions (Spooktacular)

Minor Weirdness: Inhuman Talent: Illusions

Harm: 0/7 (Unstable at 4, Dead at 8)

Improvements

Get +1 Charm, max +2

Take a move from another playbook: Magic & Illusions (Spooktacular)

Elias Ross - The Initiate

Charm +0

Cool +1

Sharp +0

Tough +1

Weird +2

Sect: Werewolf Council

Good Traditions: Like Family, Modernized

Bad Tradition: Factionalized

Moves

Basic Weird Move: No Limits

Initiate Moves: The Sect Move, Mentor, Helping Hand, That Old Black Magic

Borrowed Moves: Natural Weapon (Monstrous)

Minor Weirdness: Shapeshifting

Harm: 0/7 (Unstable at 4, Dead at 8)

Breed (Werewolf)

Claws (2-harm, hand)

Fangs (3-harm, intimate)

Vulnerability: Wolvesbane

Improvements

Get +1 Cool, max +2

Take a move from another playbook: Natural Weapon (Monstrous)

Vincent Dysangco Walters – The Mundane

Charm +2

Cool +1

Sharp +1

Tough -1

Weird +0

Moves

Basic Weird Move: Trust Your Gut

Mundane Moves: Always the Victim, The Power of Heart, What Could go Wrong, Let's Get Out of Here

Borrowed Moves: Cosmic Insight (Searcher)

Harm: 0/7 (Unstable at 4, Dead at 8)

Improvements

Take a move from another playbook: Cosmic Insight (Searcher)

Take another Mundane move: Let's Get Out of Here

[xtra7s]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N gets in a bit of trouble and Renee saves the day. Renee sees a bit into Y/Ns life beyond the act.

content: big warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, shit like that, drinking

word count: 2.9k+

masterlist | previous part

Renee's phone buzzed insistently, shattering the afternoon calm of her corner of the room. It was Adam, her manager, requesting an urgent meeting in his office. Curiosity gnawed at her as she navigated to the office, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Inside, she found Adam pacing, an uncharacteristic crease etched between his brows. Beside him, Y/N sat quietly, her usual vibrant energy subdued. Y/N's manager, Connie, stood ramrod straight, radiating tension.

"Renee, thanks for coming," Adam started, his voice strained. "This concerns Y/N. We want you guys to finish writing, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Connie for confirmation.

"There's been a…development," Connie interjected, her voice clipped. "An unexpected turn of events that could potentially cast a negative light on you and Y/N if not handled delicately."

Confusion washed over Renee. Y/N is known for her diva posts and witty replies but rarely courted controversy. "What happened?"

Connie cleared her throat. "Well did you know Y/N went out last night?"

A memory clicked in Renee's mind. She'd seen a photo Y/N posted, posing with a few other people outside of a club, holding a goofy grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Well," Connie continued, a hint of exasperation in her voice, "turns out, Y/N here heard a guy talking about her friends, being –" she paused, her gaze flitting to Y/N, "Not very nice, and Y/N took it upon herself to shut him up."

Renee's brow furrowed. Y/N was passionate, that much was true but reckless? Unlikely.

As if reading her mind, Y/N spoke up, her voice surprisingly calm. "He was being an asshole running his mouth, I didn't do shit wrong."

Renee nodded in understanding. While Y/N was 'mainly' lighthearted, sometimes she gets intense. Renee would probably do the same thing.

Connie sighed. "Look, we appreciate your protectiveness, Y/N, but the backlash is getting intense. People are misinterpreting your intention, accusing you of just wanting to start a fight."

"So, what's the plan?" Renee asked, sensing the unspoken part of the conversation.

Adam leaned forward, his expression apologetic. "We need to do some damage control. Y/N will be taking a temporary break from social media for a few weeks. We'll have Y/N issue a statement clarifying her stance on it, and why it happened."

"But…" Y/N started, a flicker of protest in her eyes.

"It's for the best, Y/N," Connie interjected firmly. "This way, the heat dies down, and you can return with a clean slate."

Renee glanced between them, feeling the weight of the situation. While she understood the need for caution, she also knew Y/N thrived on engagement and connection. A forced hiatus might take a toll on her spirit.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. "What if, instead of silence, we used this as an opportunity?"

The room fell silent, all eyes fixated on her.

"Y/N could still use her platform, but with a different focus," Renee explained. "Instead of social media, she could create educational content – blog posts, videos, you said he was being an asshole right? what was it about?"

Y/N shrugs, slumping in her chair. "He was being fucking racist, homophobic, whatever the fuck. I'm not just gonna sit there and let my friends feel bad about that shit, it was supposed to be a fun night."

Renee nods, leaning in on the table. "Exactly so post about that shit. Captions being about your experience, shitty people, talk about the fact that its the 21st fucking century and people like that shouldn't fucking exist anymore"

Adam and Connie exchanged surprised glances. The idea was unconventional, but it held merit. Y/N's passion and reach, coupled with her genuine concern, could create a positive impact far outweighing the initial controversy.

"It's…different," Connie admitted, her voice softening. "But it could work."

Y/N's eyes lit up, a spark of her usual fire returning. "I love it! It's a way to turn this around, and make a difference while still using my voice."

A wave of relief washed over Renee. With Adam's hesitant approval and Connie's cautious optimism, the plan was set. Y/N wouldn't be silenced; she would be redirected, her voice amplified for a different cause.

The meeting came to a close, and Renee took a leap of faith. "Hey, Y/N," she began, "how about we continue working on the song over dinner? Maybe grab a drink together?"

Y/N, surprised by the proposal, hesitated for a moment before responding, "I've got plans tonight with friends, but you can tag along if you want."

Renee, intrigued by the unexpected invitation, agreed. 

Later that night, she found herself standing before Y/N, who looked radiant in a tight dress that shimmered like moonlight. Renee, true to her style, wore comfortable yet stylish pants and a top that showcased her confidence.

"Ready to get absolutely hammered?" Y/N asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Renee chuckled. "Always."

Renee couldn't help but be captivated by Y/N's presence. Her outfit was a perfect blend of chic and edgy, catching the play of lights in the club. The way Y/N carried herself spoke volumes – a mix of poise and a subtle hint of mischief. The club's atmosphere seemed to intensify with every step Y/N took.

Renee's eyes lingered on the way Y/N moved, effortlessly navigating through the crowd. The soft glow of the club lights accentuated the highlights in Y/N's hair, and the music seemed to harmonize with her every move. There was a magnetic quality to Y/N's presence that demanded attention, and Renee found herself unable to look away.

The Beat was alive with energy. Music vibrated through the air, pulsing with a rhythm that invited movement. Y/N led the way, greeting friends with warm hugs and introducing Renee with genuine enthusiasm.

The pulsating beat of the music echoed through the crowded club as Y/N and Renee navigated the lively atmosphere. Tonight was different – a blend of work and leisure as Y/N had invited Renee to join her and her friends. Among those friends was Y/N's boyfriend, someone Renee had heard about but never met.

As they approached the group, Y/N's smile widened. "Renee, meet Jake," she said, gesturing towards a man with a polite smile and slightly awkward demeanor.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you," Renee greeted, extending her hand. Jake shook it, his eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

Throughout the night, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He seemed distant, his eyes often wandering, and his responses to Y/N's affection were lukewarm at best. As the trio conversed and shared laughter, Renee observed the couple, sensing an underlying tension.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to grab drinks, leaving Renee alone with Jake. An awkward silence hung in the air until Renee decided to break it.

"So, how long have you and Y/N been together?" she asked, trying to initiate a casual conversation.

Jake hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "A few months, I think." he replied shortly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Renee's instincts heightened, and she couldn't ignore the unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Y/N returned, handing them their drinks, but the atmosphere remained strained.

As the night progressed, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that Jake was hiding something. His behavior became more erratic, and he seemed increasingly uncomfortable in Renee's presence. Observing this, Renee grew concerned for her friend, unsure whether to address the issue or wait for Y/N to bring it up herself.

Despite initial nerves, Renee quickly found herself swept up in the welcoming atmosphere. Y/N's friends were diverse and accepting, and their energy was contagious. Soon, laughter and conversation flowed freely, forging new connections between them.

The club's vibrant lights danced over the energetic crowd, and the music reverberated through the air as Y/N, Renee, and their friends enjoyed the night. However, things took an unexpected turn when Y/N's boyfriend, Jake, abruptly pulled her away from the group, a few tables down.

Renee couldn't help but notice the sudden change in Jake's demeanor. His face wore an expression of hostility, and as Renee discreetly observed from a distance, she sensed tension building between the couple.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Renee discreetly made her way closer to the commotion, keeping a safe distance but close enough to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Why do you always have to hang out with her?" Jake's voice carried a harsh edge, his frustration palpable.

Y/N, clearly caught off guard, tried to maintain composure. "Renee? She's just a friend. What's the problem?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger, and he gestured toward the friend group. "I can't stand being around her. It feels like a threat. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?"

Y/N, bewildered and defensive, responded, "Jake, she's just a colleague. We're working on a project together. It's not personal."

Renee, hidden in the shadows, felt a mix of concern and disbelief. She hadn't anticipated the depth of Jake's unease, and the scene unfolding before her raised alarm bells.

As Jake's voice grew louder, Renee debated whether to intervene or give Y/N some space. Before she could decide, Y/N's eyes met hers, a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness written across her face.

Renee chose to step in, approaching them calmly. "Everything okay here?" she asked, injecting a hint of hostility into her voice.

Jake shot her a venomous look, his anger directed toward Renee. "Mind your own business, Rapp. We're fine here."

Y/N, caught in the crossfire, attempted to mediate. "Guys, let's calm down. Renee, it's fine. We'll talk later."

As Renee reluctantly retreated, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Y/N's relationship had taken an unexpected and troubling turn. The strained atmosphere lingered in the air, leaving Renee grappling with the realization that the music of the night had unexpectedly hit a dissonant note.

Trying to shake off the uncomfortable encounter with Jake, Y/N made her way to the bar, seeking solace in the rhythmic beats and the clinking of glasses. The dimly lit ambiance offered a momentary escape as she took a few sips, trying to drown the unease that lingered from the heated conversation.

Determined to salvage the night, Y/N joined her friends on the dance floor. The pulsating music enveloped them, creating a temporary sanctuary where worries could be momentarily forgotten. However, the tension from earlier still loomed in the back of Y/N's mind.

After a few energetic dance routines, Y/N decided to face the lingering issue. She approached Renee, who was now chatting with another friend and pulled her aside, away from the pulsating beats.

"Hey, Renee," Y/N began, attempting to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out with Jake. It's been a weird night, but I hope you enjoy the rest of it."

Renee, sensing the underlying tension, nodded and offered a supportive smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. Be safe, we'll catch up soon."

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd with Jake, Renee couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The club's lively atmosphere continued around her, but a sense of unease lingered. Renee wished Y/N well silently, hoping that whatever turmoil existed in Y/N's relationship would find resolution.

With a sigh, Renee turned back to the dance floor, determined to immerse herself in the music and the joy of the night. Yet, in the midst of the celebration, a lingering concern for her friend colored the remainder of the evening. The dance floor pulsed with energy, but Renee couldn't shake the feeling that the night had taken an unexpected turn, leaving a discordant note in the air.

The night stretched into the early hours as Y/N and Jake returned to her house, the once vibrant energy of the club replaced by an unsettling tension. As they stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted, and Jake's demeanor darkened.

Without warning, Jake started a fight, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. He criticized Y/N for spending time with Renee, accusing her of purposely making him uncomfortable. Y/N, taken aback by the sudden escalation, attempted to defuse the situation.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," Y/N pleaded, her voice quivering with confusion. "Renee is just a friend, and tonight was supposed to be fun."

Jake's response was cold and manipulative. "You're always so sensitive. Can't you handle a little criticism? Maybe if you weren't so emotional, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

As the argument intensified, Y/N's attempts to reason with Jake only seemed to fuel his anger. He twisted the situation, placing the blame squarely on Y/N's shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the weight of the conversation.

"You're the one overreacting, Y/N. This is all in your head," Jake sneered, dismissively waving off her tears. "Stop being so sensitive, we wouldn't have these problems."

Y/N, overwhelmed and emotionally drained, couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events. She felt trapped in a web of manipulation, her attempts to communicate met with hostility and blame-shifting. The tears fell freely now, a mix of frustration and heartache.

As the night wore on, the toxicity of the situation lingered in the air. Y/N's home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battleground of emotions. Jake's manipulative tactics had left scars on the night, and Y/N found herself questioning the foundation of her relationship.

In the quiet aftermath, Y/N was left to grapple with the emotional aftermath of the night, hoping for clarity and resolution in the days to come. The echoes of Jake's harsh words lingered, a painful reminder that sometimes the deepest wounds come not from external forces but from those we hold closest.

In the hushed aftermath of the argument, Jake's anger continued to cast a shadow over the room. Y/N, emotionally drained and vulnerable, found herself on the receiving end of a twisted attempt at reconciliation.

With a feigned sense of remorse, Jake approached Y/N and gently touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to ruin our night," he said, his voice laced with insincerity.

Y/N, still raw from the earlier confrontation, hesitated but yearned for a semblance of normalcy. As Jake leaned in, he pressed a kiss against her forehead, attempting to use physical intimacy to mend the emotional wounds he had inflicted.

"Let's just go to bed, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow," Jake suggested his words designed to manipulate Y/N into submission.

Caught in the confusing web of emotions, Y/N reluctantly agreed. The facade of normalcy seemed appealing, and the exhaustion from the night's events weighed heavily on her. As they lay in bed, a palpable tension lingered in the air, overshadowing any sense of true reconciliation.

Jake's actions, though masked in the guise of apology, left Y/N grappling with the unsettling feeling that something fundamental in their relationship had shifted. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a silent battleground where emotions were suppressed and genuine connection eluded them.

As she changed into her pajamas, Y/N's phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a curious glance, she saw a message from Renee.

Renee: Hey, you okay?"

Renee's message felt like a lifeline in the midst of the emotional storm. Gratitude washed over Y/N as she replied,

Y/N: Hey, thank you for checking in. I'm fine."

In the quiet darkness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that this night would leave an indelible mark on her perception of Jake and their relationship. As sleep claimed the world around them, Y/N lay in the stillness, contemplating the complexities of love and the blurred lines between sincerity and manipulation.

As Y/N lay in bed beside Jake, her mind refused to be silent. The events of the evening replayed like a relentless loop, casting shadows over her thoughts. As she stared into the darkness, her mind involuntarily shifted towards Renee.

The contrast between Jake's manipulative behavior and Renee's genuine concern became starkly apparent. Y/N couldn't help but imagine how different it would be if Renee were in Jake's place – a realization that weighed on her heart.

Renee, with her kindness, understanding, and the support she offered earlier, seemed like a beacon of comfort in comparison to the storm that had engulfed her night with Jake. Y/N began to entertain the idea of how Renee, with her genuine nature, would be a far better partner, someone who valued communication and mutual respect.

In the quiet of her thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but imagine a relationship where trust was the foundation and where vulnerability wasn't met with manipulation. The idea of being with someone who cared for her well-being, as Renee had demonstrated, felt like a balm to the wounds inflicted by the tumultuous night.

As the night lingered on, Y/N found herself caught between the reality of her current situation and the fantasy of what a healthier, more genuine relationship could be. In the gentle embrace of these thoughts, sleep slowly claimed her, carrying with it a dream of a connection that transcended the toxic dynamics that had tainted her evening.

[fakebatmanfan]

Gotham Central Jervis General HCs

TW: Stalking, extremely brief mention of rape (in ref to the comic he's from)

"A little weird, but nice" is a quote I really have to keep in mind while writing this Jervis. It's a perfect summary of his character.

When you first meet (pre-mad hatter), he's weary of you. He always is with strangers, though he usually doesn't find them so lovely...

There's a certain sparkle to you, he comes to believe as he sees you more and more; a glimmer of intelligence in your eyes, a tincture of kindness to your speech.

Things progress especially quickly if you live at the boarding house or nearby.

Being around you, even thinking of you at the start, makes Jervis' anxiety sky rocket. He feels sick to his stomach, as if his heart is racing 100 miles per hour.

And so, though he does approach you in a normal, friendly manner from time to time, he stalks you.

Said normal, friendly interactions (because I'm sure that's what you're here for lol) generally involve awkward small talk, a very shy but kind Jervis and a lack of eye contact.

Jervis' stalking isn't so extreme, as far as Jervi go at least. He just wants to know that you're safe and looking after yourself. After all, Gotham is a dangerous city.

This Jervis' style of stalking mainly involves following you around when he finds the spare time and occasionally pretending to bump into you to engage in conversation. He yearns for your attention...

However, if he suspects something is amiss with you, he'll go out of his way to do it more.

And God forbid you run into any trouble! Do you remember what happened to those boys who he thought raped Connie Littleton? Yeah. That.

While the stalking does calm down once you enter a legitimate relationship, he's still protective of you. The kind of man who always walks you to your door after a date, or at least insists you call him once you've made it home safely.

An utter gentleman; sweet and attentive of you. Not to mention madly in love with you.

Given that he has few social outlets, Jervis is quite attached. He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if you left him...

Like all Jervi, once he becomes the mad hatter, he keeps you as separate from his crimes as physically possible. Almost entirely in the dark, in fact.

He doesn't like you visiting him in Arkham, feeling that it's rather degrading. But, he gladly sends you letters upon letters while he's locked up.

Said letters can be quite mundane content wise (I mean, what can he do in Arkham?), though he always sends his love. He's overjoyed when he receives your replies, rereading them frequently. You're always on his mind...

In Jervis' perfect world, he marries you, further perfecting his mind-control technology and becoming a highly respected scientist. He takes care of and provides for you. You love each other with pure, unbridled benevolence and nothing ever gets between you two.

Say you'll have him? He'll be so kind to you.

[lavosse]

my bed is made of stone, a star has burnt my eye / I'm goin' down to the willow tree and teach her how to cry

[hethress]

Songs I think fit rdr2 characters

John Marston: You’re on Your Own, Kid by Taylor swift.

Be Nice to Me by The Front Bottoms. (I also associate this with Arthur and Dutch because of their dynamic)

I Hope You Die in a Fire by Grand Commander.

The View Between Villages by Noah Kahan (this one also fits rdr Jack incredibly well)

End of Beginning by Djo.

Funny You Should Ask by The Front Bottoms. I know this one’s a little strange but it’s so John I had to put it

Molly O’Shea: Big Mouth Strikes Again by The Smiths. this is also for Dutch because the song is from both of their perspectives

Arthur Morgan: Hangman by Tia Blake.

Daniel In The Den by Bastille.

Dutch/Hosea: Trouble By Connie Converse

Is it obvious I like John?

[melishade]

I've read the main story and now I'm going through some of the Ao3 one-shots and tumblr lore of the AOP timelines. My favorites so far are the Peaceful Timeline and Dark Timeline.

However in regard to the Peaceful Timeline. I know that technically a brunt of the focus on Ymir's story, Optimus and Megatron raising Ymir from scared young woman to married mother or two children. Megatron learning to love a human as his own daughter, etc.

However, the recent few posts in the Peaceful Timeline are 2,000 years in the future where Eren, Armin, and Mikasa are in high school and it's more Modern AU. And at this point we know Megatron and Optimus have lived together for 2,000 years watching the world evolve, and even evolving with it (aka able to put their brains together to make a groundbridge, which is impressive considering Optimus struggled with a tracker) but hiding in the shadows.

Anyways, Optimus and Megatron are probably at least friends at this point. Maybe they have that 'brothers' bond back from Cybertron. They are not hostile to each other in front of others anymore, probably. Which was the whole reason in the main story that Connie, Jean, Sasha, and Levi called Megatron "Prime's Ex".

But if Jean, Connie, and Sasha were to meet Megatron and Optimus in this timeline....would they just call Megatron "Prime's anti-social boyfriend/husband"?

Also did the village ever ask if Matthew and Orion were married?

Anyways, that was stuck in my brain.

Previous Episode of the Peaceful Timeline

So first of all, thank you for enjoying my work. I really appreciate it. Now let's get into this.

So I didn't have any real intentions to get Jean, Connie, and Sasha involved with Optimus and Megatron in the 2,000 year time skip. Those three don't share the same interests Eren, Armin, and Mikasa have, so they never get caught up into the chaos until way after the fact. It would be hard to have an opinion on them with no prior interaction.

In regards to the dynamic between Optimus and Megatron from the perspective of other people, for example the villagers, they really just saw Optimus and Megatron as brothers the minute they started arguing with each other. There's is arguing as a couple and then arguing as siblings. There is a stark difference between the two. That didn't mean they didn't have questions about the family dynamic. Like Maria was clearly Ymir's child, but she called both Optimus and Megatron 'Papa'.

And yes, they started to reconnect when taking care of Ymir and Maria, but that didn't go away after they passed on. They were both grieving, and Rose told them to go back home and leave her behind in her old age. They only had each other during those 2,000 years. They're going to spend that time trying to further repair their relationship while also trying to keep their sanity. They do this by keeping the cabin intact, keeping track of Ymir's descendants, and repairing that groundbridge together. They reforged their bond as brothers.

And now since I'm here talking about that 2,000 year time skip, Optimus and Megatron have definitely been up to some shenanigans. For example, Optimus and Megatron are technically rich. They do have money saved up that they have gotten over the past 2,000 years and they use it to either A: give to Ymir's descendants in the event they are in financial trouble, or B: when they need to find a way to use human supplies of their own.

They also visit places to have fun. National land monuments, museums, libraries, theatres, plays, movies, the zoo, they have to find ways to occupy their time. I have also brought up in conversation with @justawannabearchaeologist and @echoblaze5 that Optimus and Megatron might have been the cause of one or two revolutions. Like one of Ymir's descendants is the equivalent of Robespierre and they started the equivalent of the French Revolution. They had to quickly swoop in and save this descendant from getting decapitated via guillotine. But that didn't stop Megatron from helping out with the mob.

Megatron waving the country's flag: DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING-!

Optimus tackling him out of sight

They have also gone out of their way to steal plans to create atomic bombs in order to stall major cataclysmic events. They steal the schematics for it, burn down the lab, and bolt.

Megatron as the two of them are running in holoforms: By the Allspark, why are we stealing this?!

Optimus: To prevent Hiroshima and Nagasaki!

Megatron: I don't know what those words mean!

Any time that the government has tried to catch onto them, Megatron quickly has to take a page from Soundwave and scramble any and all information about them. They've had years to prepare for the government trying to track them once they got technology.

[michellecosine]

You guys put a lot of different songs with "trouble" in the title on your Neve playlists. So...

About half of these songs are on more than one list. Feel free to track them down on Spotify and give a listen before you vote :D

[dorminchu]

Everlong — Pilot

Summary: Eren begins a tumultuous relationship with an ex-kickboxer who is determined to remain impersonal.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance/Drama

a/n: The first chapter — and something of a pilot episode — for what will likely be my final AoT fic. I've never written a modern AU before but I'll do my best to keep everyone on-brand. :)

It starts the night Armin and Mikasa drag him away to a party. Eren agrees, but he's really only there for the free alcohol. He hangs back at the bonfire next to Connie who just wants someone to drink with. Eren listens, mostly. In the distance someone's blasting Deftones.

Connie grabs his arm. "Hey, look who it is!"

It's impossible not to notice. People on the fringes wave and she nods to them. Her attention turns toward Connie and she begins makes her way towards him.

Connie says, "I'm gonna go get a refill. You want one?"

Eren says, "Yeah."

Connie snorts and disappears.

Annie steps into place.

"Jaeger," she says. "It's been a while."

She's got a few more piercings along her left eyebrow, her nose slightly crooked like it's been snapped back into place a few times. She's wearing a pleated skirt and black tights, a simple white blouse that buttons up to her throat. An evolution on her old look, while he still sticks to jeans and a t-shirt.

He says, "I didn't expect you to be here."

"My cousin Reiner wanted to visit." She shrugs. "He and Bertholdt missed talking to you guys, I guess.

"Are they around?"

"They're probably getting drunk and getting into trouble. But I'll tell Reiner you said hi.

Her expression is difficult to read. Maybe that's as close to an answer as she's willing to broach, she's always been pretty quiet.

She asks if he'd like to catch up instead of waste a can of beer he obviously isn't going to drink. He tells her the legal drinking age in America is twenty one but it hasn't stopped him before, and she just smiles enigmatically. Then he says, "We could go back to my place."

"Won't you be missed?"

Eren shrugs. "I'm tagging along. They'll figure it out pretty quick."

Annie says, "All right. Did you drive?"

"Walked."

Annie says, "Cool."

They walk down the front yard and towards the sidewalk. Their surroundings give way to a suburban sprawl. It's summer. The alcohol is mostly out of his system by now but Eren's head is buzzing.

"Where do you live?" she asks.

He tells her he's living in a duplex. He moves up the stairs as she follows and produces a key. He shuts the door and clicks the lock. Annie removes her leather jacket and he shows her the closet. It's warm enough up here to be uncomfortable.

Annie takes a seat on the sofa. The last time Eren saw her at length, they were juniors in high school and she mostly let him talk at her about homeroom and schoolwork and Ms. Hanji's weird obssession with taxidermy. He can count on one hand the amount of times they've held a two-way conversation.

There's nothing he can say to her that's too lame, so he settles on, "How've you been?"

She shrugs. "I'm still alive. Living with my cousin at the moment. How are you?"

There's not much to say. "Working. Trying to save up money, mostly."

She nods. "That's smart. I think I might take an internship this summer so Reiner doesn't worry as much."

"I thought you were enlisted?"

She frowns. "Didn't work out."

"Damn," he says, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "How's your aunt?"

"She's okay. I think she's trying to get back into the dating scene."

Annie looks at her nails. "Online?"

Eren scoffs. "In person. She doesn't know a lot about computers. I had to explain catfishing to her the other day."

Her mouth turns up. He feels warm all of a sudden, like he could stand here and talk to her all evening. In the span of three years, not much has changed. It's nice to see her again even if she remains an enigma.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I'm all right, thanks."

He checks the heater. It's off. It's stuffy in the room, though.

She exhales, crossing and uncrossing her legs. The silence holds as she makes up her mind about something. "Do you want to have sex?"

His breath catches in his throat. He turns and looks at her. "Wh—right now?"

"Yeah," she says in a terse voice. "Or we could meet somewhere else at 01:00 hours, whatever works."

Eren takes a moment to process the situation. She'd never so much as looked his way in high school. He has long since contented himself that she wasn't interested in anybody, let alone someone as milquetoast as him. He swallows dryly. "I don't—when did this start?"

Her mouth curls but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. "I've had a crush on you for a while."

Old memories resurface. Every time she'd asked to study with him, even though she never seemed that interested in anything but her guitar and kickboxing and smoking behind the school with the super seniors. She wasn't above teasing but she'd long since trained him not to let his guard down.

Her ambivalence plagued him into suffering in ignorance until Armin suggested, the year after graduation, that perhaps Annie might've had an alternative motive all along, and Eren's never let himself live it down since.

"Oh," he says.

She shrugs. "You're still pretty cute."

He huffs, not sure how to take that but not offended, either. "Thanks."

She slips off her combat boots. Without the jacket covering her, it's obvious she's not wearing a bra. "You haven't answered my question."

Eren exhales and glances at the door to check that it's locked. "Are you sure?"

When he turns back to her she looks hurt. "Yes."

He's already kicking himself. She holds his gaze, a mirror to his internal conflict. Vulnerable in a way he's never really considered before. He shoves his hands in his pockets while he scrambles for a way to unfuck this opportunity. "I just thought—I dunno. You were out of my league. Or just jerking me around."

She frowns. "Are we having sex or arguing about how oblivious you are?"

He chuckles, at ease. "Both, I guess."

The tension thickens.

"It's been a while for me," she admits. "You're making me nervous."

"You don't have to be nervous," he says.

Her expression softens, just a little. Sweat prickles on his nape as he walks over to her, a surreal waking dream that's finally come to fruition or something equally implausable. As he sits next to her on the couch, she cups the back of his neck before she presses her lips to his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Their noses brush. She smells like vanilla. Her breaths rebound against his face.

Eren kisses her slowly.

His hands cover her neck briefly before sliding down to her shoulders to breasts to the dip of her waist, a contrast of strength and pliability that excites his senses.

As he kisses down her neck, he's working on the buttons of her blouse until she bats him away and takes it off. Gooseflesh spreads over her pale skin. Her nipples are pink, pierced.

"Damn," he breathes. "How long have you had these?"

"About a year."

"That must've hurt like hell."

"It wasn't bad. They took a while to heal." Eren forgets how to speak and takes her in for a moment. In the back of his mind everything his stepsister has tried to drill into his head about piercings and hygine, but he only half-remembers. Annie is looking at him intently.

"Aren't they sensitive?" he mutters.

A flush gathers on her hairline. "It doesn't hurt to be touched." She licks the pad of her thumb and circles over her nipple as it stiffens. "See?

His mouth dries.

"Yeah, I see."

She stops what she's doing and begins stroking his neck, restless. Her voice lowers, "Are you going to stare all night?"

Eren bends to flick his tongue against the areola and her lips part on a gasp. "Do you like that?" he says huskily.

Her grip on his neck flexes. "Yes."

The admission piques his interest. He kisses her sternum, cupping then other breast and feeling the supple weight under his fingers. On impulse he licks his thumb and circles the nipple, kissing her breast as she begins to pant, groaning his surname like an imploration. He sinks his fingers into the soft flesh, kneading.

She winces and grabs his wrist. "Not so hard.

"Sorry." He begins to kiss a path up her collarbone to the column of her throat, curve of her chin. He kisses her eyebrow. "Are you gonna get any more of these?"

"Do you always talk this much during foreplay?"

He laughs. She pulls him down to kiss, bites his bottom lip. He licks at her teeth, not caring whether he leads or is led and so it ends like every other half-fevered grapple, with her in control. She stops to suck a bruise into his jugular. He grunts but makes no attempt to stop her. Her teeth sink into his skin and he gasps, pushing her back by the shoulders.

"Is that too much?" she mutters.

Eren stops and takes his shirt off. He unzips his fly, adjusting himself in his boxers. He's discovering a lot about himself tonight.

Annie sits up too. "Oh. I could help you with that."

The words take a breath or two to register. Eren takes her by the chin. His thumb presses against her lips. She bites the pad before flicking her tongue over the mark and it shouldn't make him as hard as it does. He'd be lying if he's never thought about this.

She skims a palm over his naked chest, down his stomach to the wiry thatch of pubic hair bordering his waistband. Her nails dig into his thighs like she's checking for weak spots and he bites his lip.

She gets off the couch and goes to her knees, her breath warming the tent in his boxers. She takes him out, darts her tongue over the head and he gasps like she's hurting him. A part of him still can't believe this is actually happening but there's no way he's about to interrupt her.

She handles him a little more brusquely than he would himself. At the base, her thumb and index finger don't touch. She runs her tongue along the shaft, and briefly cups his balls before pulling away to size up his erection. She wraps her lips around him, pushing until he hits the back of her throat and she gags softly. He grabs her shoulder. Annie doesn't seem as concerned. She pulls off with a wet pop, taking a breath. His cock weeps. She says, "You're going to make a mess." She licks the bead of precome and pumps slower, pressing the pad of her thumb to the head until he's craning his neck and groaning.

There's a flush along her hairline and he can feel himself getting hotter. Tension behind his navel.

"Fuck," he grits out, "please."

She barely glances up. "I'm giving you enough." She's kissing along his hipbone to his navel. She tenses her grip, but doesn't go any faster. He cups her face with a trembling hand. She turns to kiss the inside of his wrist. "You're big." Her voice is nonchalant even as she's jacking him off steadily. He makes a strangled noise. "I don't think I can take all of this, as much as I'd like to."

Eren sucks in a breath and grabs her by the nape. He's going to lose it if she doesn't stop saying this shit and it's not the first impression he wants to make

Rather than stumble over words he steers her without elaboration. She laughs quietly and engulfs him, keeping one hand firm around the base. She's picking up speed. His hips stammer and he releases. She grunts, swallowing thickly as he goes limp. She pulls off and gets to her feet. Wiping her mouth, she says, "So, was it good for you?"

Eren stares at her, dumbstruck. Aside from the flush, she's back to her stoic self. She isn't smiling but her eyes light up

"Yeah," he says. "Fuck, you're really good at that."

She collects her shirt from the floor and says, "Do you have a bathroom?"

He tucks himself back into his pants. "Uh—yeah. It's on the left."

"I'll be back in a second."

The door opens. He can hear the sink running. She spits. Then comes back into view.

"I didn't think you'd want to kiss me after that," she says, then straddles him. In between making out he helps her out of her clothes. Annie assists in little ways, unbuttoning the dress, rolling down her pantihose and stepping out. Once she's naked, she straddles him again and he can feel her bare and eager against his thigh. He slides a palm down her toned stomach.

"Oh," he groans, "Jesus you're wet."

Annie laughs softly. "You've been distracting me a lot this evening."

He's not quite ready for another round, but he's got an idea. He coaxes her to sit on the sofa.

"Stay there," he mutters, going to his knees, smoothing her thighs.

Annie makes a low sound in her throat. Her legs fall open.

He kisses her inner thigh, pressing his head slowly into her lap. She threads her fingers into his hair. Her breathing deepens, the muscles in her body tensing as he loses himself in the taste of her, salt and sweat and nothing. In a way, he figures, giving head is a lot more intimate than sex alone. There's no logical purpose to it but the proximity and pleasure.

She's trembling, her deep breaths finally giving way to a drawn-out moan. The tension in her body releases in a gentle rush, leaving her limp and quivering.

He pulls away. She's still out of breath when he stands. "Are you okay? I wasn't too rough?"

She looks at him like he's crazy. Pushing herself up, she hedges, "Did you still want to have sex?" He groans. He's been hard for a while. She smirks and then says, very seriously, "I really want you inside me."

He inhales. "Fuck, I wasn't really expecting this."

She seems to catch on. She reaches for her bag and takes something small and presses it to his chest. "I've only got one of these, so make it count."

Eren fails to catch it. The packet drops harmlessly to the couch and he retrieves it. He rolls on the condom, watching the little blonde hairs on her arms stand up.

"Are you comfortable?"

She nods. Reposing herself lengthwise on the sofa, she's short enough to fit between the armrests. She pulls her legs up to make room for him and he takes himself in hand.

He teases his length along her clit before slowly pressing inside. She groans and wraps her legs around him. He sinks to the hilt and takes a deep breath as she gets used to his size.

Her blue eyes shimmer in the light. A deliberation in her touch as her thumbs trace over his eyelids and cheeks, settling on the nape of his neck. Her hair is coming loose from its tie. He kisses the tip of her nose and she rankles. Eren grins, he's always wanted to do that. He kisses her on the mouth, rocking his hips.

The couch squeaks. Sweat gathers between their bodies, on his hairline, along his spine.

She begins to pant, arching until her hips are off the couch and his palm is cradling the small of her back. Each time he thrusts into her he's pressing against her walls in a different way. He's cogent enough to guess that she knows what she's doing, and keeps thrusting until he brushes a spot that makes her gasp and grip his nape tightly.

"Do you like that?" he whispers against her lips.

"Yeah." He thrusts once more to be sure and she moans, kissing his mouth. "Yes, Eren."

He falls into rhythm like they've been doing this for years. Her eyes flutter and close but he keeps his open. Her brow knits as her body winds taut, guiding them to an inevitable crux. Her nails dig into his nape and he grunts, thrusts turning fast and shallow as she begins to lose composure. Her voice ebbs into hiccupy little gasps and whimpers that drive him crazy. He slows down just enough to deepen the pace and keep himself in control.

He sits upright as she lets her arm drop and splays his hand against her taut stomach. She's thrown an arm over her face but he can still see the tremble of her mouth.

He lowers himself across her until his stomach meets the little jumping pulse of her and she whimpers, clenching erratically. He shuts his eyes but the sight is already burned into his memory.

He's losing rhythm. Time falls away. There's a vague awareness of warmth, spurting over his thighs and hips in time with her panicked gasps, and then he finishes, burying his face the curve of her shoulder as he catches his breath. Her arm wraps around his neck and he feels her fingers stroking his hair. He pulls back to look at her. He's never seen her so red.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," he echoes, kissing the curve of her chin, her pliant mouth. "I wasn't too rough? You're okay?"

She grins and pulls him down, touching his forehead to hers. "You're so cute. Just stay here a minute."

Eren does so.

She relaxes her thighs around his waist and he pulls out, disposing of the condom. There's a stain against the fabric.

"Shit," he mutters. "What did you—?"

It clicks. She averts her eyes first.

Eren wets his lips. "Damn. I guess next time we'll take the bed."

She watches him grab a can of baking soda from under the kitchen sink. He fills a bowl with warm water.

"Sorry," she says. "I got carried away."

Eren pauses. He doesn't get why she's so flustered. Caught off guard, sure, but it was very hot. Then again it's not her house.

"No need to apologize."

He wipes the spot down. It'll take fifteen minutes for the mixture to set in. His tone seems to ease her nerves somewhat.

"Can I use your shower?"

"Yeah," he calls. "I'll join you in a bit."

A few moments later they're sharing the tiny stall.

The stream pelts his chest. Her sclera gleam under the yellow flickering light, the set of piercings against her brow glinting softly. With her hair down this feels a bit more intimate.

"You had a crush on me?" she says.

Eren shrugs, unsure how to concede. "I was seventeen. I didn't know what to do about it."

He rinses off. They trade places. The air heavy with steam and a sense of familiarity.

"I've got a high pain tolerance," he says. "I might get a few tattoos. My sister keeps telling me not to but she's going to school for it."

"A tattoo of what?"

He admits he isn't sure. The water cuts off. He dries off. She grabs another towel and wraps it around her body at the armpits

She says, "Can I stay with you tonight? I really don't mean to impose."

Eren finds her very endearing. "You're not imposing."

He throws some clothes on and goes to check on the state of the sofa. He wipes it with a damp cloth. It doesn't smell right but it looks better than it did.

"You don't have a bed?"

Eren startles. "I—yeah, of course I have a bed."

He ushers her to follow. His room is pretty clean but he feels like she's scrutinizing. It's difficult to say where her head is at.

He sleeps in his shorts. He cuts the lights but keeps the window cracked.

She waits for him to lie down before dropping the towel. She lays beside him on her back, her hair slightly damp.

There's a vulnerability between them. An unravelling of each other's defenses. The woman beneath the façade, finally visible.

She whispers, "I've wanted this for a while."

He strokes her cheek and she closes her eyes, leaning into his touch. "I wanted this too," he says, unsure how to assure her, but sensing her need to be comforted. "You don't have to worry anymore."

She turns and mumbles something else but he can't make out the words. In a while her breathing evens out.

He falls into dreamless sleep and regains consciousness in an instantaneous moment.

His eyes are closed. When he opens them he's in his apartment. Half of the bed is empty and he can see an impression in the sheets and on the pillowcase. There's no warmth.

He sits up. The clock reads 07:22.

He hears movement in the kitchen. Zeke's the only person who has a key to the apartment. Eren gets dressed and moves for the bathroom.

Annie's still here. She's redressed, but her hair is down.

"Hey," he says.

She does a double take. "Hey."

"How long have you been up?"

She shrugs. "About five? I got hungry. I hope you don't mind."

She's opened the half-carton of eggs. She's also taken some cereal.

"No," he says. "I, um. I didn't think you'd be here." He feels like a terrible host. Or whatever this new facet of understanding between them is going to be. Annie doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm used to waking up early."

He takes a moment to use the bathroom. When he comes back she says, "I had a good time last night. Thank you."

Eren grins. "I still feel like I'm dreaming."

She pinches his waist. He yelps. "See, you're awake."

They eat breakfast in comfortable silence. He asks if she drinks coffee or tea and she rolls her shoulders. "I'll take coffee."

"It's instant."

She says nothing.

He runs the water and waits for it to boil. He says, "I'd like to take you out sometime."

She looks up. "When are you free?

He tears a sticky note from the fridge and scribbles his number. She looks at the note a moment and then takes it, stowing it in her breast pocket. "I'll call you," she says, brushing past him. The smell of her perfume lingers.

A minute later the door unlocks. Zeke steps in. "Wasn't that Annie Leonhardt?"

Eren bites his tongue. "When did you get back?"

"Last night." Zeke pauses. "She's shorter than I thought she'd be."

Eren hesitates. This is less trouble than he had expected, but Zeke usually has an ulterior motive when he's being reasonable. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I was going to have a smoke." He readjusts his glasses. "Your aunt called. She's going to have dinner over at her place."

"Dad's not coming?"

Zeke chuckles around the unlit cigarette. "Nope."

Eren scowls. "Figures."

"So are you going to invite Annie?"

"What?"

Zeke tuts. "Oh, so it's a one night stand."

"We're dating."

Zeke looks at him in a way Eren would rather not think about. "Do you know where she lives?"

"I gave her my number."

Zeke pulls out a lighter.

"Go light up outside," Eren says, "I don't want that shit in here."

Zeke clicks the lighter shut with a sigh. "I wonder if Pieck keeps in touch with her. I could put in a word, if you want an impartial source." He glances at Eren. "They went to the same private school when they were kids. I don't know all the details."

Eren scoffs. "Isn't she half your age?"

"She's twenty four," Zeke says, far more interested in the zippo than anything Eren has to say. He leaves to go smoke, leaving Eren to his own devices.

The door to his bedroom remains ajar. When he opens it, the room is empty. The sheets are still unmade.

Eren stares for a moment, hand on the doorjamb, as though expecting something to change. He bites the inside of his cheek and shuts the door.

[on-softs]

DO YOU WANT TO? (LIKE YOU KNOW I DO): a beetlebabes fanmix

“Is it still, you know,” she asked, gesturing with an embarrassed little twitch, “the same as it was?” “Honeypie, sweetcheeks, babydoll, et cetera,” Betelgeuse said, grinning broadly enough to crack a mirror. “It can be whatever the fuck you want it to be.” — She had been nineteen at the time and reading a lot of Lovecraft and therefore, she reasoned, could not have been blamed.

⤍⤍ fic ⤎⤎

senza mamma francesco pennino

papa loves mambo perry como

you're dead norma tanega 

he needs me punch-drunk love

cape cod kwassa kwassa vampire weekend

give him a great big kiss the shangri-las

trouble connie converse

walking with a ghost tegan and sara

burning love elvis presley

incontro la contessa bruno nicolia, edda dell'orso

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 29: THE PERFORMANCE

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Chapter Note:

This chapter explores the next six weeks from Cillian’s Point of View.

Cillian’s POV

A few days following your latest encounter at Cillian’s apartment, Dermont and Cillian sat at the pub, drinking pints of Guinness. The dimly lit room echoed with the sound of lively conversation and clinking glasses. Outside, rain drizzled down on the streets of Dublin, adding to the gloomy atmosphere that matched the melancholic state of their minds.

Cillian took a long sip from his pint, contemplating the weight of recent events, including the break up with you and the fact that, again, Nina was struggling with his separation from Danielle.

While Nina’s mental health was something Cillian and Danielle had addressed in recent days, following her having run off from his apartment, the breakup with you still had left him shattered. It was something he could not come to terms with and struggled to accept.

"You know, Dermont," Cillian began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me mad."

Dermont took a swig of his Guinness, his eyes narrowing as he studied his troubled friend. "You are still caught up on her? Jesus, man," he spoke.

"I can't help it," Cillian confessed. "She's all I think about,” he admitted in the midst of being somewhat tipsy and Dermont leaned back and crossed his arms.

"I have to admit, Cillian, I never understood why you let her go in the first place,” his friend pointed out, causing Cillian to sigh.

"It's the age difference, Dermont," Cillian lamented. "She is half my age, for God's sake. It felt wrong,” he explained and Dermont tilted his head, a sceptical expression on his face. "Age is just a number, my friend. If there's love, it transcends all that rubbish.”

Cillian snorted and took a sip of his Guinness. "You make it sound so simple, man."

"Because it is," Dermont affirmed. "Besides, you're not getting any younger either, mate."

Cillian glared at his friend playfully. "Thanks for the reminder, Dermont,” he said before asking his friend what to do.

“You should try and resolve this. If you want her back, then tell her,” Dermont pointed out and Cillian's face contorted with uncertainty. "I don't know, Dermont. I don't even know if she'd want me back after the way I ended things."

Dermont scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, the classic self-deprecating Cillian Murphy. Trust me, mate, shoot your shot. You never know until you try."

Cillian chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a newfound determination before remembering something else that, just days ago, you had told him about when you were made to resign.

Cillian, of course, then told Dermont all about it, including the fact that there had been an email that was sent to the dance academy, signed off by a “concerned parent”.

“I thought me and Connie were the only ones who knew at the time?” Dermont acknowledged, resulting in Cillian to nod.

“From the parents, yes…” he determined as the discovery of someone sabotaging your career had ignited a fiery determination within him. He couldn't let this stand and wanted to know who did this to you.

Dermont, ever the curious friend, frowned as he listened to Cillian tell him about the email that had, apparently, given rise to your forced resignation. "Who could have done it then, you think?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Cillian sighed heavily, the lines of worry etched deep on his forehead. "I don't know, Dermont. I can't think of anyone who would stoop so low," he replied, frustration evident in his voice.

Dermont's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him like a lightning bolt. "What about Kit? She knew…" he suggested, causing Cillian's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"Kit? Why would you suspect her?" Cillian questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. Kit had always seemed loyal.

Dermont leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it, Cillian. Kit knows how much you still love Y/N, and you fucked her. Perhaps she grew jealous and decided to take matters into her own hands” he suggested.

Cillian's mind spun with the possibility, a flicker of doubt igniting within him. Could Kit have orchestrated this? He mulled over Dermont's theory, his eyes clouded with suspicion.

“It was just sex, man. Kit said so herself,” Cillian pointed out though while running a hand through his unruly hair. “I just can't imagine her doing something like that,” he then told his friend.

Dermont leaned back, resting his pint on the table. "Are you sure about that, mate? Kit's been acting a bit off lately. She knew how much you love Y/N, and let's face it, jealousy can turn even the sweetest of assistants into vengeful email-senders,” Dermont said jokingly, causing Cillian to chuckle momentarily.

"Don't ruin Kit for me, Dermont. She's been nothing but supportive and she is a pretty good assistant,” he pointed out as he could not believe that it may be her who sent the email.

 Dermont leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But what if she's secretly in love with you and can't bear the thought of you being with someone else? People do crazy things for love, mate. Crazy things,” he pointed out.

Cillian stared at Dermont, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just pulling his leg. "You can't be serious. Kit has been with me for years,” he said.

Dermont shrugged, a devilish grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just saying. It's worth considering. Love can make a person do all sorts of mad stuff,” he argued.

Cillian rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his Guinness. "You watch too many telenovelas, Dermont. Kit is not the culpri-" he began to say and, just as Cillian was about to finish his sentence, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, eyes widening as he read the name on the display - Kit.

"Speak of the devil," Dermont chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, mate. See what she wants,” Dermont told him and Cillian hesitated for a moment before opening the message. His eyes darted across the screen, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"She... she just sent me a meme of a cat wearing a hat, some Oppenheimer thing…" Cillian laughed, and Dermont burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth. "Oh, mate, you were so close to discovering her sinister plot, and she distracts you with pictures of dapper felines. She's good,” he joked.

Cillian's forehead creased with frustration as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm even entertaining this nonsense, Dermont. Kit would never betray me like that,” he was certain, but Dermont was not.

Dermont wiped away a tear of laughter, struggling to compose himself. "Okay, okay, I'll drop it. But remember, cats in hats can be dangerously distracting, especially those which build atomic weapons. Stay vigilant, my friend,” he carried on, and Cillian shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're an ejeet. I don't know how you come up with this stuff,” Cillian acknowledged, causing Dermont to wink playfully.

"It's a gift, mate. A gift that keeps on giving,” Dermont told his friend before they clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing through the pub as they shared a moment of lighthearted camaraderie amidst the chaos of love and betrayal.

Little did they know, the truth was lurking in the shadows, waiting to unveil its twisted face. And when it did, everything would change.

But for now, they would enjoy their pints, laughter, and the blissful ignorance that only a good pub session could provide. The mysteries could wait; they had Guinness to savour.

***

About two weeks later, Cillian and Dermont were still hunting for cues, and it was Nina who told them both to give up and let it be. According to Nina, you took up a new job with a theatre production company that specialises in musicals and dance performances, and it was one of those performances that she wanted to see.

Nina had followed you on Instagram and Facebook for weeks, and you stayed in touch. You offered her some tickets to attend the show with either her mum or dad, now that you knew that Danielle no longer held a grudge against you.

In fact, she even tried to get you reemployed which, in the end, was an offer you declined even despite the fact that the owner of the dance academy apologised to you.

"Dad, you have to take me to see her perform! Can you take me? Please?" Nina thus pleaded, her blue eyes wide with anticipation after Cillian slumped onto the couch, his brow furrowing as he stared at his daughter, who was bouncing with excitement in front of him.

Cillian sighed heavily, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "Nina, we've been through this. I don't think it's a good idea," he repeated as, just two days ago, she asked him the same question.

Nina pouted, crossing her arms stubbornly. "But Dad, she's been teaching me everything she knows about dance, and I really want to see her perform.” She begged.

Cillian's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter. He hated to disappoint her, but he had his reasons for not wanting to see you perform.

"Nina, you know how things ended between us," Cillian said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“All I know is that you broke up with her,” Nina pointed out in response, to which Cillian sighed, finding it difficult to explain to his young daughter the complexities of your relationship.

"It's a complicated situation, sweetheart. We had our differences, and age played a big part in it,” he pointed out and, immediately, Nina, being the insightful teenager she was, raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Wait, Dad, are you saying you dumped her because she's young and cool?" she asked and Cillian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling like he was on trial.

"Well, it wasn't as simple as that, but yes, age was a factor. I did not know how young she was and when I found out I realised that it couldn’t work. I didn't want her to miss out on experiences and opportunities that someone her own age could provide. Despite, my career, it…" Cillian began to say, but Nina interrupted him.

Nina crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Dad, you're being ridiculous. Your career? Really? You hooked up with your assistant, it’s all over the papers, but you are worried about bad press because of Y/N?” Nina spat, causing her father to gulp.

Cillian shook his head, willing himself to stay firm in his decision. "Nina, it's not that simple and I would rather not revisit this. Okay?” Cillian then shut her off which caused Nina to sit down next to her father, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Dad, you need to grow up. It’s okay to be in love with someone who doesn’t quite fit within your ideals. Love is an iffy little thing, worth making sacrifices for” Nina said like a grown-up and Cillian glanced at his daughter, love and pride shining in his eyes. Nina's words struck a chord within him, making him consider her perspective.

“I read this in a book at school, don’t judge” Nina then pointed out, but the words had already sunk in.

"Maybe you're right though," Cillian reluctantly admitted and Nina beamed, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Does this mean you take me to see her performance?” Nina wanted to know and Cillian nodded.

“Yes, but only because I know it means a lot to you and you grew up to be so wise” Cillian chuckled softly, giving Nina a playful nudge.

Nina squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Cillian in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dad! You won't be disappointed, I swear!" she told him while Cillian found himself chuckling again, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.

"All right, calm down, you. Now, tell me more about it. Is it a ballet?” Cillian asked and Nina's eyes sparkled with excitement as she launched into an animated description of the contemporary ballet assembly you were part of.

Listening to Nina, Cillian found his curiosity piqued. Maybe it was time he saw for himself what he had been missing and, as Nina continued to regale him with tales of your talent, Cillian couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake by letting you go.

The performance was weeks away, but Cillian promised Nina that he would take her to see you. Deep down, he hoped that by witnessing your prowess on stage, he would find closure and the strength to move on. But, unfortunately for him, he would soon learn that the opposite was the case.

In the days leading up to the performance, Cillian's mind became consumed with memories of you.

He recalled your laughter, your teasing smiles, and the passion that ignited between you both, erasing any concerns about age differences or what society might think.

As the date drew nearer, Cillian's heart felt heavy, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He found himself becoming increasingly nervous and couldn't help but wonder what seeing you dance on stage again would do to him.

***

A few weeks later, when the night of your performance had arrived, Cillian waited at the theatre's entrance, fidgeting with his ticket in hand.

Nina, dressed in an elegant dress, bounced beside him and Cillian's heart swelled with pride at Nina's excitement. He took a deep breath, hoping that tonight would bring him the closure he needed.

They had good seats, three rows from the front and when Cillian took his seat in the dimly lit theatre, a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.

The lights dimmed, hushing the buzzing crowd. The stage came alive, bathed in ethereal hues of purple and blue.

The first dancers appeared, their movements captivating the audience. But Cillian's gaze remained fixed on the edge of the stage, waiting for your entrance.

And then, there you were, gracefully gliding across the stage, your body a mesmerising blur of movement.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his eyes hungrily drinking in every sway of your hips and arch of your back.

The music swelled, and you leapt into the air, defying gravity with an effortless elegance. The audience erupted into applause.

Cillian's heart raced, torn between the memories of what once was and the undeniable beauty he witnessed before him.

As the performance went on, Cillian found himself entranced by your talent, lost in the way your body spoke a language all its own.

He couldn't look away from you, from the raw emotion etched across your face, from the way your body moved with a combination of strength and vulnerability.

Cillian's breath hitched as you effortlessly leapt and twirled through the air, your passion radiating from every pore. It was as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

Act after act, Cillian remained glued to his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from your performance. The audience erupted in applause after each routine, but for Cillian, it was an internal symphony of emotions.

As the final act approached, Cillian's heart pounded in his chest. It was a moment of truth, a moment where he had to face his feelings head-on and decide what he truly wanted.

The lights dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight illuminating the stage. You stood there, a vision in black, poised and ready to unleash the depths of your soul through movement.

Cillian held his breath as the hauntingly beautiful music began. Every step you took seemed to echo in his heart, the ache of longing mingling with the bittersweet melody.

The dance spoke volumes, conveying a story of love and loss, of two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of desire and hesitancy. Cillian couldn't help but see himself in the narrative.

The climax of the performance drew near, a moment of climax and intensity where you and your partner poured all your emotions onto the stage. The chemistry between you was palpable.

Cillian's heart raced, his fingers involuntarily clenching around the edge of his seat. His eyes locked with yours, and he knew in that moment that he couldn't deny his feelings any longer.

The dance came to a crescendo and the audience erupted in thunderous applause, but Cillian was rooted to his spot, emotions swirling within him.

Nina's eyes flickered between you and her father, sensing his conflicted emotions.

She reached out a hand, resting it gently on Cillian's arm. "Dad, are you okay?"

Cillian tore his eyes away from you, his voice thick with emotion. "I... we should go soon” he stammered and Nina gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“Do you want to go and talk to her?” Nina asked as tears glimmered in Cillian's eyes.

“No, we should go,” Cillian told his daughter just as the lights came on.