#{ tw; death }

[novvaable]

[tiredly101]

ok hear me out, i saw Clownsuu's art of wally but like, its a mafia AU Now i cant get the mafia AU out of my head- so like- Mafia AU Wally darling x Male!Singer! Reader? doesn't have to be the same as the AU plot as Clownsuu's AU i just need a mafia wally cuz there's NON. (P.S: Take care of yourself, drink water & take breaks! :) )

This is good! I already had a poll with similar idea holding the mafia au but this shall be a separate fic and I made reader know spanish! Hope you like it!

Devilish handsome singer

Pairing: Mafia leader! Wally Darling x Singer!Male reader

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7,

Illustrated Mafia Au, picture made by @clownsuu!

Context: Gepeto is the same Gepeto from New Neighbor but he owns a bar that was bought by a mafia man instead of Male reader and only warning is one death mention! Mario may be Gepeto's boyfriend, I'm not sure yet, suggested to listen to Báilame by Nacho when M/n appears! And lastly M/n's outfit is basically my Welcome Home persona outfits because it just fitted perfectly!

Wally was sitting in an armchair playing with a gun, in front of him was a woman kneeled down, she was missing an eye and she was crying. She didn't pay in time but just when Wally was going to shot her Barnaby opened the door.

"Sorry to interrupt boss but Mario wants to meet at his bar, Gepeto's, in 30 instead of tomorrow," said Barnaby before walking out of the room with his pipe in hand. Wally sighted and shoot the woman in the head before walking out of the room. He changed in his usual outfit for business; rainbows pants with black suspenders, white shirt, red handerquief in a chocker style and his oversized blue blazer.

Wally was taken by Julie to the bar where Howdy open his door upon arrival. Wally walked inside the bar seeing multiple familiar faces who nodded in respect, this is one of the reasons he loves being the Welcome Home mafia leader since he was feared world wide.

"Mr. Darling! I'm glad you could make it in such short notice... Some issues happened with the secretary but not to worry I got rid of them," said Mario Genapetti while sitting down on the booth closest to the stage and made a sign for Wally to sit down while Howdy followed behind, ready to pounce if told so.

"Let's do business after the singer, you are in for a treat Mr. Darling," Wally sighted but nodded after all he did love some pleasure before business but that normally entitled having Howdy rough someone up so he can get a message across but he supposes that a singer would suffice for now.

The whole room went dark and people started cheering while footsteps could be heard in the stage and then a soft blue light fell on top of a guy; he had beautiful (s/c) skin, soft looking (h/c) hair, his eyes were covered by a black bandana that had a little rainbow drawn in it and he was wearing a dark red shirt that had on top of it a black corset that hugged his waist that was accompanied with some black dress pants.

The guys started singing in spanish while swaying his hips with each beat and Wally seemed to be in a trance at the guy's movement while a soft color settled in his cheeks. Wally didn't understand why he was feeling like that, it wasn't normal in his perspective.

"Who is him?," Wally asked Mario but his eyes never strayed from the guy's enchanting singing and ethereal glow. Mario chuckled which made Wally begrudgingly pay attention to the man.

"That is M/n Novell, his best friend with Gepeto over there and when I bought the bar he was part of the deal and I decided to keep him around since the few times cops stopped by he was all the motivation for them to turn a blind eye...," said Mario while smiling and motioned M/n to go where he was since his song just finished. While he walked over there with grace a guy gave him a black rose before kissing his hand and walking away.

M/n threw the flower on the floor and stepped in it before stopping in front of Mario who smiled and pointed towards Wally to which M/n sighted and sat down on his lap which made Wally blush a bright red color.

"I don't have your money yet Mr. Darling but I should get your payment in two days time and if you are kind enough to wait Mr. Novell here will be willing and able to do anything you want," said Mario which made M/n stand up abruptly and pick Mario by the shirt before turning to Wally and smile.

"We will be right back," said M/n before walking away while dragging Mario by the back of his shirt and Mario seemed scared. To say Wally was confused was and understatement but soon Mario came back with a very obvious slap mark in his cheek and he stuttered when he spoke again while M/n walked towards back stage to prepare for another song.

"Sorry for that miscommunication, tomorrow I will have your money," said Mario while slightly shaking and Wally raised his eyebrow before getting up and leaving. He didn't understand a word of what happened but all he knows is he coming back to that club just to see their devilish handsome singer.

Would you like me to do a part two @frindtheshapeshifter405?

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Okay so I was watching heathers and I had an idea for Freddy x reader. Reader has an absolute dickhead in their family who treats her like crap and who she's dreamed about the death of many times and Freddy's been watching her through her dreams and kills the person.

"I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times. I felt bad every time but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything."

I haven't watched heathers so I'm sorry if I got anything wrong. Dreaming freedom, anyone? And btw, Heather doesn't die by chemical poisoning here.

Warnings: mention of death and choking, stabbing, gore, weight shaming on Chandler's part, Reader's kind of psychotic, Freddy is a perv, OOC can't write freddy to save my life. Shit writing.

Relationship: romantic (I think?) Platonic romantic.

Freddy Krueger x reader!

You weren't too fond of the narcissistic manipulative and cruel bitch of a person in your family named "heather chandler"

You couldn't help but dream about her dying tragically or some other way. You felt kinda guilty but she always thought she was better than everyone else and didn't even try hiding it from anyone. She's aware and that's what pisses you off even more.

Your guilt would vanish temporarily every time she does a dick move on you. It got so bad to the point you would pray to whatever higher being is up there that she would just die already, you didn't care how or when.

This was especially amusing to the Freddy Krueger. He has never seen a person hate someone this bad before, it got him wondering what the hell this person had done to die so many times in your dreams.

"Oh y/n, it's been so long." The blond he knew as Heather, said. "It seems you've... Put on/off so much more weight than last time I've seen you, you look fine though." She tried to make it sound like she was reassuring you. Inevitably it pissed you off.

"Hah-" Something got stuck in her throat as she put a spoon of something into her mouth. She made gagging noises while holding her throat, unable to cough it out her face turned red and blue as she panicked.

"Heather are you okay!?" Her posse came up to her side, one of them hitting her back to get rid of the piece of food in her esophagus but to no avail.

You watched in silence as everything seems to slow down and blur, eyes focused on the dying body of your relative. Heather's panicked eyes as she stared into yours, her face full of fear and blue with her veins popping out at her temple.

Freddy was watching the scene with you, (not that you knew) this was however one of the more tame deaths, he saw some brutal scenes. It was more than enough evidence to hint that Heather treated you like absolute shit. And she did and said things much worse than your weight.

Inevitably Freddy became fascinated with you this way. It was a level of disturbingly sexy as he would describe it. A girl almost as blood thirsty as him. (only towards one person but you get the point) Now looking forward towards night time more than ever, I mean, sure he's still haunting kids in their dreams and killing them but it's special when he's into yours. Occasionally acting as some background character or one of Heather's little minions while watching what kind of death you're dreaming about this time.

You stepped into her house, pulling out a knife from one of her kitchen drawers. And stepping up into her bedroom – you opened the door and hid your hands behind you.

"Good morning, Heather." You greeted with a smile, which caused Heather to immediately rouse from her sleep and sit up quickly.

"Reader... How the hell did you get in here?"

"Heather, I wanna apologize."

"Oh do you?" She retorted sarcastically.

"Again, how did you get in he-"

"No, not for that." You cut her off.

Before Heather could question you for the third time, you moved your hand from your back to your side – revealing the knife you had in your hand earlier. Causing her to become alerted.

"Reader, what do you think you're doing?" She asked and backed into her bed further. You approached quickly and held onto her arm – then you swiftly stabbed the knife into her chest, ripping through her night shirt, watching her scream as blood immediately flowed out flawlessly and down onto her lap and bed. Pulling out the knife and stabbing it back in again until blood travelled up to her throat from the inside and started choking on it. A big hole in the middle of her chest, if you wanted to you could reach in and grab her literal heart.

After a while both you and Heather C were covered in blood. She was dead though obviously, she laid lifeless on her bed with a dark river of red from her mouth as the cherry on top along with the bloodbath on her bed. Freddy watched the whole scene with a twisted sense of amusement and an attraction towards you stronger than ever. Seeing you covered in blood like that was arousing him more than he thought it would.

Freddy sighed and decided with a smirk that he would fulfill your wish and kill Heather for you. Of course, he leaves traces on you secretly to watch you outside of your dreams. He snickers to himself every time he catches you actually praying for Chandler to die. God, you hated her guts in every sense of the words. And to him it was the most hilarious thing ever. He felt you slowly starting to wake up.

A few days later at school, you heard from your friends that Chandler died. Actually died.

Apparently she was found dead in her bed with claw marks on her body, along with a deep hole in her chest. Similar to the one you had in your dream... You felt both a rush of nervousness and guilt. For some reason you felt like it was your fault she died. But it wasn't, how could it? She died in her 'sleep mysteriously'. You had nothing to do with this.

With that you went to bed that night peacefully. No more dreaming or praying for the death of Heather C, as she was finally gone.

Freddy had no plans of letting you sleep peacefully.

As you woke up, (in your sleep) you sat up and looked at the figure a few feet away from your bed. A man.. Burnt-through the-skin man wearing a fedora hat, with metal claws and... Christmas themed shirt?

"Are you happy, Reader?" The man asked, his voice was gravely deep and distorted.

"Happy for what?"

"That your worst enemy, Heather fucking Chandler is dead."

"Oh..." Man, this is a weird dream isn't it? You thought. And you swore the man smirked wider. "Yes, I am quite happy about it-"

"I promise you, dear, this is no ordinary dream."

"Wait what."

"And you'll be very happy to hear that i killed that bitch for you. Aren't you glad? Reader." He strided towards you.

"Why don't you thank me?"

You only looked at him in silence, kind of scared and suspicious.

"What, don't believe me?" He scoffed and leaned in, causing you to back away. But you hit the wall. (Or the edge of your bed.) He leaned in close, his breath fanning against your face as his eyes bore holes into yours. Then the moment he licked your face you immediately screamed and woke up. You looked at the window, it was around 4 am and the sky was just now turning blue.

You sat up straight and huffed, rubbing your cheek and you reeled when you realized it was slimy and wet. Wait, it was wet?

"Believe me now?" The same distorted voice asked. You snapped your head towards the direction of the voice. The man was now leaning against your drawer, his hat covering part of his face except for that shit eating grin.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming, or I'm going insane."

"You're not."

You only sighed and got out of your bed, slipping on your inside shoes.

"You really killed Chandler?" Your question was met with a smug nod.

"I did. Took my time as well, she was a real asshole I tell ya. But you already know that all too well don't you? want me to tell you her last words?"

"No that's... Fine." Freddy snickered at your response.

You stared out the window. "I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times. I felt bad many times but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything."

He only smiled wickedly. "I hope you find more people that you hold a grudge again. I wanna see what more sick ideas you can come up with."

You groaned softly. Is this going to be a permanent thing?

"Yes, it will."

You frowned at him. Fuck, he can read your mind?

"Yes... I can." You rolled your eyes at his response. How annoying.

[terrence-silver]

Can you please do a scenario where Terrys beloved dies during childbirth and how he copes with his grief. Would he accept and love the baby or reject and blame the baby.

---

Like five hundred other people are to blame.

Surgeons. Doctors. Nurses. Midwives. The medical staff at the emergency room. The poor, unlucky chauffeur who drove the beloved to their usual appointments, for all we know. The measures they took. The measures they didn't take. The amount of dedication they clearly didn't show, in his opinion. It is the ultimate betrayal that'll get so many people hurt. When Terry Silver pays a sum for a service, he expects the service delivered to perfection and according to his instructions; that's how that social contract works because nothing's for free, and if you throw a whole fortune at something, you expect nothing but your vision delivered to you down to the smallest details. The fact that he was failed so catastrophically it resulted in the death of the person he covets and loves the most? Someone stripped away beyond his control to stop it!? When he trusted vetted professionals, the best of the best in their field, to do the job right!? I swear to god, heads will fly. He daydreams about what could've happened if he just kicked down the doors of the delivery room and carried beloved out of there before it was too fucking late. The revenge will be horrifying, though. People will lose jobs. Their licenses to practice medicine. They'll be blacklisted. Sued. They'll find their cars blown up. Their places of residence broken into. Burned down. The hospital they worked in foreclosed, bought out, bulldozed overnight and turned into an empty privately owned lot until not even a single brick remains of the place that killed beloved. For the love of all that's holy, some of the participants involved in the tragedy might even find their own loved ones done in by mysterious circumstances because blood can be only repaid by blood. A life for a life. And since Terry might just think the life of someone he loves is worth infinitely more than just one life, the retaliation can be truly awful and result in some many injured parties and so much damage it is pretty hard to describe just how far he'd go.

Pretty far, I'd reckon.

Murder, carnage and torture type of far.

When the dragon's been woken, it's impossible to get him to slumber again.

But, however far it does go, I doubt he'd ever blame his child; if anything, his possessiveness of them is only kickstarted into some very excessive territories day one seeing as how they're the last thing he has left off from beloved and the one thing that'll outlive him and carry him on, into the future, and so, all the more reason for him to be devoted to his offspring with all the lovesickness a human heart can produce, blaming, perhaps, himself, all the more, behind the narcissistic facade that he is infallible and all powerful. Terry actually feels he's entirely to blame, triggered into a bygone time where his clumsiness resulted in a friend's death, and here he is, decades later, at the very exact same place. He lost control then and he lost control now. Almost like he's back at the very same spot he was in Vietnam and he's still that scared, shivering boy in the cage and he's angry. Desperate. Vulnerable. And oh so feral. And everyone best beware. This is an issue that The Valley might just end up burning down over, engulfing everything far and wide. Man would step on the whole world because he'd feel the world deserves it now more than ever.

This is an extremely deadly mindset to put Terry Silver into.

No telling how violently all of it could culminate in his mourning.

[sixpennydame]

Grief and Death, and how fanfic changed my life

Five years ago today, on the Summer Solstice, my mom died.

Although she'd been battling breast cancer for many years, her death was sudden and unexpected. I'll never forget the call I received from my father that evening, and the deep well of sorrow that opened up in my heart from that day forward. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of her - there were even days when I picked up the phone to tell her something and I was reminded, she's not there to pick up.

But if Mom could have chosen any day to die, the solstice was the perfect one. She was bright and bold, like the first days of summer; love radiated off of her and people were drawn to her. I see her in my first summer roses, which bloom here around this time. They're red - her favorite color.

If grief was a well, then I was drowning in it for a long time. I retreated into my hobbies for escape, and that's when Attack on Titan came into my life. Watching how Levi dealt with the deaths of those around him and how he lived his life to honor them, resonated to me in such a strong way. He was hurting too.

And that's when I started writing North Star. I wanted a way to work through my grief and understand its ebbs and flows. Sure, I had people irl that helped me through it, but now, I could work through it with Levi too.

When people started reaching out to me and saying they understood the grief I wrote about and how real it felt, I felt so honored. Art is powerful - it helps us understand ourselves but also connects us with others. Through my grief, I found an art form that has done both for me.

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to write this here. Maybe nobody will read it, and that's ok. But words have become my lifeline and now, when I feel like I'm sinking in that well, I have something to lift me up.

[velissiamemes]

Send 💀 for a drabble about how my muse reacts to your muses death

[glacierclear]

Okay, so I need a whole fucking rant about Leon's trauma from you, just straight up ted-talk, please, I'm begging you, just any though about this topic that's rattling in your brain

oh good lord, anon. im taking deep breathes but why would you ask me this why would y-

im putting this under a cut because other wise it'd be annoying

need everyone to keep in mind that im still in the baby beginning stages of my resident evil obsession so finer details pertaining to lore and stuff i will not be aware of !!!!! a lot of this is probably headcannoning anyways...

leon's entire character makes me so sad but so stupidly passionate. this young, bright-eyed boy who just wanted to help people. being forced into an unending nightmare. the actor in re2r did such a good job portraying his earnest flavor of justice.

the fact that you can tell he thoroughly believes everything is his fault and even if you told him none of it was his fault he would probably just cry and pretend to accept what you're saying but none of it would reach his heart. and he's not even half-assing anything. he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't do everything in his power to save people, to do his job, and even then, he can't forgive himself when he does...

that scene in re2r where he first meets marvin and is like "there was another cop...i tried to save him...i tried..." and you can see his lips quiver and he has to bite them to keep himself from collapsing in on himself. it KILLS ME.

and even after that nightmare he was forced into being DSO's little attack dog for the rest of his life. he probably thinks that's what he deserves. he doesn't deserve to have a proper chance at life anymore after screwing up raccoon city so bad. and he probably doesn't have anyone he can really confide in...not truly.

any relationship he manages to have outside of work is probably so loveless. i feel like he is undeniably attracted to partners who don't value him. it validates the part of him that thinks he's the reason all those people died.

maybe he intentionally lets himself get hurt on missions. he drinks until he can't stay awake, until he barfs it all up and then he drinks some more. because otherwise his brain won't stop reliving the past. he probably knows he's sexy. that he's objectively handsome. but he's utterly convinced that if anyone knew him. like actually knew him. they'd be horrified and run away. and he knows he doesn't deserve a good life partner. not really. not truly. he wouldn't be able to make them happy.......

that being said he probably loves animals so much. especially dogs. unconditional love that he can very clearly see, reciprocate, and receive. it's uncomplicated.

it's rare he gets through the night without waking up. either by nightmares or panic attacks or some form of "i feel like im gonna be killed" . he probably trains for hours and hours a week. he has to get better he has to BE better. he has to do it for the people who live and who died. he carries all that on his shoulders. and considering how many times he's been infected with bullshit viruses and parasites over the years he's probably convinced he's JUST LIKE the monsters he kills and that maybe, at any moment, he could hurt those in his life.

and to top it all off. for everything he has to go through and everything he has to fight and everything he has to kill for. he has to do all of that with fucking hair in his eyes because he refuses to get a different haircut.

[secondhandmckie]

// quick update (tw for death):

I learned last night that my mom passed away, so I’m processing that and trying to get things sorted to go fly home and help there. I may be here for distractions now and again (because we deal with things with dissociation my dudes!) but as a whole I’ll probably be pretty quiet.

I’m still available on discord or through IMs, it’ll just be touch and go. I appreciate you all and your patience and I love you. Do me a favor and reach out to your loved ones today, even if it’s just to say hi. You always think there will be more time. You’re supposed to have more time. It never turns out that way. Do it now ❤️.

[beardeddetectivepaper]

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[pulpolicia]

popping a vein rn, Bad Boy manga is coming out later this month, it’s about Levi’s childhood, BUT WHAT IF WE SEE OLD POST-WAR LEVI????🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

WITH HIS LITTLE TEASHOP???🥺🥺🥺🥺

ngl im thowing up at the thought: someone on twitter said something about what if isayama has the audacity to allude Levi’s death, in which case, please just put me tf down 🧎

[senka-mesecine]

Something bad happens to Barnes' significant other. Talking an ER, accident, potential loss of life type of close call. How would he react, watching the reader nearly fade? (Sorry, that last one had my mind wandering.) Living in the woods has its risks. 💀

-

I flat out think that if his significant other died he'd either want to die too, feeling that it's inevitable and simply a reality of things so the time might as well be now on his own terms or he'd go back to war, any war, anywhere in the world, wherever a war's being fought in case the one in Vietnam ends and he does so with the intent of total and radical self annihilation, wanting to do so in combat doing what he does best and furthermore, what he likes doing, like a soldier should (or at least a Mercenary). Him seeking out a war to die in would be like a deliberate suicide knell and goddamnit, he'll be crueler than ever before and take as many people as he can right to hell with him, because if you died, they should all categorically die too. And they will die en masse before he drops, believe me, because it'll be an outlet for his fury, sadism and grief, like he's having revenge on the whole wide world. He outright copes with it all by killing others, yes and he isn't even in denial about this fact to himself. He knows. He's aware of it. Feels like that would match his mentality.

But, if his significant other was right there on the verge?

And he's actively witnessing it happen?

I think he'd be keenly fixated on the actual process of them dying because if everyone gotta die sometime, he might as well be fully immersed once it's his significant other's turn once it is established he can't just take over the doctor's job from them (by force) and literally reach into his significant other's guts himself in order to fix them if need be; that's how his mental breakdown in this case manifests --- he wants to be there for all of it to the point of morbidity. Their final breath. The way their eyes roll back. Their last words. Their every shudder, shiver, their pulse and hand going cold. All of it. Is probably there squeezing their arm in a vice grip once their fingers go limp and everyone's too scared to tell the man he shouldn't be in this room right now. Might just get confrontational and violent if someone touches him, you or tries to separate him from you. Starts throwing around hospital equipment and busting up half the hospital? Maybe, yeah. Knocks out several people? Stabs someone or worse? Lands in jail due to the violence? Plausible. Drink himself into stupors? That's a given. Suffice to say, he doesn't take it well whatsoever in spite of his apparent stoicism, in fact, you dying is like the last shred of humanity flushed down the toilet. Gone. And scary thing is, he had extremely little humanity left in the first place. What he had is erased.

How about a close call and they survive?

He strikes me as the 'If you try and nearly die again on me, I'll kill you myself.' types of people, because he has this whole death seeking, grim mentality for everyone, including himself, but it's ironically juxtaposed with the fact he loves someone, namely you, and that him not wanting you to die almost makes him a two faced hypocrite and out here betraying his own philosophies and beliefs, so he covers up the fact by acting angry at the fact you were so careless and clumsy, nearly getting yourself killed, which is merely a (admittedly very toxic) facade to hide his personal hang ups, his grief and how profoundly torn up he was. Suddenly, death isn't just the dark banal 'Well, it happens to everyone eventually. Get over it, shut up and take it.' Suddenly...it's a conflict within him. You get reprimanded, criticized and he talks your ear off on the matter like a drill instructor would; might even brood for a good, long while. But to admit he actually doesn't think a whole ass human being should die, like canon fodder, because it's not their time and because he actually doesn't want them to? Because you're not indispensable to him? In fact, you are everything? Would mean pissing on everything he's ever espoused up until now. He'd be revealing a weakness left, right and center to the source of his weakness themselves. Oof, so yes, tough thing to ever acknowledge because it would also mean acknowledging he was wrong in ways. So, he doesn't. You recover from your fatal accident here thinking Barnes is somehow offended at your ineptitude and pissed off that you weren't taking better care, but in actuality, man's whole world was about to extinguish and he didn't like how that felt whereas he's been bringing and advocating death for everyone else for ages. Except now? Last thing he ever wants to experience is your death, contrary to everything he's ever stood for. Would quite literally rather end himself first or end you (or end you and him both) and at least have some control and say over how and when it happens. At least then he'd be the one who's done it to you instead of some bullshit, freak accident. Yeah, death comes for everyone and it's inevitable, but in your case, might as well be him.

He's quite literally be the living definition of 'He's so in love, he's gone insane. Well...even more insane.'

[tiredly101]

Destroyed...

Paring: Wally Darling x Abused! Male reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6

Summary: Wally was on his way Home to see Eddi rather distressed looking for... him? Why is that?

Main Au (Illustrated Au), picture by @fandom-wreck-9000

Wally's pov

I'm walking down the street to go Home, Sally really talked my ear off with her new play. I look around to see Eddi with something that looks similar to red paint in his hands, he looked frantic? Scared, maybe?

"Wally! Thank the rainbows I found you! Something happened to M/n and Home seems angered, I think I don't understand that house," sighted an exasperated Eddie leaving me confused. Home angry, M/n? What could happen?

"Eddie, please tell me that is red paint on you...," I said softly while Eddie looked at the ground sighting.

"I wish I could," was all he had to utter for me to ran back Home. Home's door was broken open and they seemed exasperated, right next to my red arm chair lay M/n holding his stomach while gasping softly for air.

"Hey pretty... boy," said M/n softly while he looked at me with those beautiful eyes of his only that now they looked dull. I had Eddie pick him up and take him to Poppy since she will help him out, I need to know what happened.

"Home... who did this?," I asked softly knowing Home would never hurt M/n on purpose. Home started squeaking and banging multiple thing in a rapid way. They were rambling but I only catched the words 'Josh', 'beat up' and 'M/n' which gave me all the information I needed.

"Can you see him?," I asked to which Home very slowly answered with a squeak of the door which made me smile.

"He ran to the woods? Silly, silly...," I said while walking to the hidden closet inside of Home's walls. I grabbed my axe and started walking away from Home but before anything I need to make sure M/n is okay.

I hide my axe in my pocket and run towards Poppy's house, to see her sniffing softly. She sees me and her eyes seemed to widen in regret.

"Don't tell me he is dead Poppy," I said softly to which she shook her head in an agitated way, I walked towards M/n to see him cover in bandages which made my heart sink slightly. I place a kiss in his forehead and look at Poppy.

"He is in something called a coma but he should wake up in a couple of weeks time," Poppy said making me nod. I get M/n a last kiss in his hand and walk outside and start heading towards the forest to where Home said he should be. He is trying to reach the division between words and that I'm not going to allow that.

The forest and his bloody prints lead me towards him to see him standing just over the edge. I charge towards him and grab him from the back of his shirt before he could jump and throw him against a tree.

His eyes widened in shock seeing me standing only a few feet from him and that shock soon turned to fear when he registered the axe which made me laugh. I bet he didn't feel fear that often!

"Oh Josh, silly, silly. You should have left M/n alone when you had the chance," I said before lifting up my axe and taking the first swing of what would be hours of suffering for this piece of trash.

Should I do a part four? Let me know and I'll tag you if I do!

Tag list:

@mythjustiice @distinguishedpuppyface @pr5is1ng @lunamonkeypower @waywardstardustcollector @thelostboys11 @darling-w

[1strecomdejablue]

Deja Blue - Navi; Colonel Miles Quaritch - Avatar: The Way of Water    

[shiroi---kumo]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ There had been screaming in the hall only a few hours ago, one prince leaving the scene flustered while the other left with a bloody nose. It had taken multiple binds on both sides of the equation to separate them and he didn't understand why the minute red started to pour from a pale nose, that his Liege seemed to be like a Windarian dog locked in for the kill.

Even Safiirin struggled to get the boy to cease. He hadn't heard the conversation that started the fight but he had heard his Liege scream after the younger had shouted at him "Usva, just leave me alone!"

By the time he got there, they had already come to blows and he barely had enough time to process and barely enough strength to help Safiirin hold him back. It took everything to get him off of his brother and after much fussing and a large amount of blue mist, the boy finally slowed enough for his binds to rip him away from his intended target. Away from his brother.

He watched as Pilvi was whisked away by Kukka and Sydän with Sielu following close behind and the only thing he could do was talk to his own liege to find out just what happened to cause him to attack his brother like he did. They'd always fought. The boys have always fought for as long as he's known them and that's their entire lives.

Benefits of growing up in the palace he assumes but he almost doesn't know if it was a benefit at this point to be so close to the situation. Usva had been relentless today and there is a small voice in the back of his head that wonders if no one had been there if he would have killed his brother in the process and that same small voice wonders if he would have felt anything for it when he did.

Pilvi too, was different today. Instead of backing down and doing whatever it took to simply defend himself and get away from his brother - he watched the white prince fight. Even as his hair was pulled and he look a fist to the face. He watched as teeth grit and white mist seeped out in warning. He watched as the younger prince for the first time in many years fought back and he watched as even through the tears running down his face - jade eyes turned pure white.

Revon had forced his body between the two them at that point and he heard the boy wordlessly screaming as he was carried down the hall. He heard the screaming corroding into sobs and declarations of "It hurts!" to his own binds as he was surely taken to Palo's office. They would tend to the younger. He was not his Liege, - instead he would tend to his own and Usva wasn't giving him a word.

Nothing more than "He deserved it" and "Pilvi had it coming." There was no remorse where they should have been. Where in previous years there would have been. Safiirin and Syksy took him to explain it all to his father instead and hopefully Aurinko would be able to get more out of the elder Eclispe prince than they could.

So now the symphony is slipping through the halls with his hair still a bit askew and some small bruises blossoming on his lower jaw. There is a fright existing in deep orange that usually isn't present as he knocks once, then twice and then a third time in a rhythm only he had before he turned the knob to let himself slip inside the other musician's room.

Sielu is perched at his desk with an angry look on his face and even angrier scratching filling out paper work. Grading papers if he had to take a guess.

"Sorry to intrude." He begins. "I just wanted to check in and ask - is Pilvi okay?"

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry do after having a dream where beloved died?

I like to think he labels dreams under the irrational.

Dumb bullshit.

Proofs of weakness. Something infuriatingly uncontrollable inside of the mind and the psyche that is best left squashed and purged through rigorous self-discipline and training. Outgrown. Overcome. This is the way of logic. If there's softness inside the man it manifests in the mind. In dreams. In thoughts. In conclusions. In gestures. Expressions of self. It eventually oozes through every action unless it's promptly eradicated. The very fact he's having dreams about something as vulnerable as someone's death is a teller. The fact that it upsets him is even more of a teller. The fact he can't control what he dreams about and when...now that part is just infuriating and offensive, really. He should be far beyond this by now. Above it. His subconsciousness shouldn't be producing these types of nightmares and generally speaking, the idea he fears the outcome of beloved's figurative, imaginary death to the degree he's dreaming about is to Terry a sure sign he isn't in control of the narrative enough in the waking world and it reflects inside of him, internally. If he no newly-minted weak point, why would be having these stupid-ass dreams? Thing is, he wouldn't. Means radical changes have to take place in his life. Now. And he implements them. Literally from the moment he wakes up from said nightmare. He's proactive, perfectionist and expeditious like that.

Having his staff check breaks on all the cars.

Upping the security around his estate.

Bringing in private doctors of impromptu health check ups for beloved.

Being rigorous about where they go. With who.

Just some of the examples of the extreme measures he implements in stride literally the very same day, in just one breath. Why wait until later if one can do it now? Didn't you hear about the proverb that claims the iron should be forged and tempered while it's still hot? Terry Silver doesn't stop until he feels and knows with all the assurance in the world that things are as safe as his money can afford him. Should he assure there's more fire alarms? Alarms in general? Would it upset the general neighborhood of Beverly Hills if there was a visibly armed security detour during tours around his Mayan-renewal mansion? Actually, scratch that! Fuck the general neighborhood of Beverly Hills. The walls of his mansion should be higher. Taller. More secure. His cars should be armored. Bullet proof. Should he hire a professional food taster tasting beloved's meals? Should he test the meal taster himself? See if they're up to the task? If they're worthy? If their credentials are up to par? Of course he will. He invents things he should do, because every area of control should be covered, until there's nothing left up to chance and there's literally no way in hell beloved could even reach a point where they could die under his watch. Terry's not paranoid. Not superstitious. He's just practical. Calculating.

Want to prevent a problem from happening?

Intercept it.

Erase the prospect of a problem ever occurring in the first place.

How can a problem ever take root if the soil it could develop on like a weed was so fully disinfected nothing can ever grow on it again?

[sixpennydame]

The Better Man | Chapter 7

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Read in AO3 here

Content/Warning: Explicit sexual conduct, NSFW, MDNI, descriptions of death, depression, vaginal sex, creampie, choking

A/N: A huge thanks to @mrsackermannx who supported me with some of the more intimate scenes. Only one more chapter to go...

Suggestion Music:

Levi was gone.

 But why he was taken by the Survey Corps, you do not know. When you feel stable enough to get up, you run over to the men who guard the stairs, hoping to get some information out of them.

“Tch, how are we supposed to know where they took them? But that short one sure was mad when they knocked you out,” snickered a curly haired man, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Please, just let me through, I need to catch up with them,” you plead, but the surly men just laugh. 

You knew you were getting nowhere with the guards, so you went back to the apartment to get dressed and make a plan. Several of Levi’s gang are already there, pacing the floor and visibly on edge, all of them feeling as lost as you are.

“I need you all to get out there and find out what happened today. Find out who took Levi, Farlan, and Isabelle and why.” The young men know who you are and what you mean to Levi, so they follow your orders without delay. After they leave, you go to a corner of your bedroom, lift up a loose floorboard, and take out a dusty metal container. Inside is all the money you and Levi had saved in an effort to make it above ground. It probably wasn’t even enough to buy your entrance, but at this point you were desperate. You fold the bills and put them in a money belt around your waist. You know that the longer you linger here, the further away Levi will be and any trace of his whereabouts. 

At that moment, there’s a loud noise at the door. Before you even have time to answer it, two large men barge in and grab you. As you’re kicking and screaming, they put a muslin bag over your head, tie your wrists and ankles together, and drag you outside. You scream for help, hoping that someone - anyone - will respond and come to your aid. But no one does.

What could these men want? They haven’t searched you, so your money is still safely stashed in your belt, nor have they tried to beat or rape you. Could they be some kind of secret MP’s, given the task of arresting you as well?

This becomes more of a possibility as you hear them talking to the same guards you’d questioned earlier at the stairs’s entrance. The bigger one has you slung over his shoulder, but you can now feel that you’re going up stairs. Are you being taken above ground? Maybe you’ll be reunited with Levi after all. 

It feels like the stairs are never ending - you can even feel your ears pop as you move higher and higher. Suddenly, there’s a light shining through the bag over your head - a different kind of brightness and a heat you’ve never felt before. Even with your head covered, you have to close your eyes.

“What are you doing with me? I’ve done nothing wrong!” you scream out. 

The man holding you throws you into the back of a wagon but says nothing. You have no idea where they’re taking you and they only stop to let you relieve yourself. It feels like hour upon hour passes, but really you have no idea how much time has gone by. At some point, you fall asleep out of pure exhaustion and only wake up when the wagon comes to a harsh stop.

One of the men pulls you out of the wagon by your legs and you start kicking, but they easily overpower you. When they yank the bag off of your head, you stop resisting.

It’s so bright. You’re now keenly aware of the sounds around you: wagons and horses, people bustling by and talking to each other. When your eyes adjust, you begin to see images that go with the sounds. You’re above ground. It’s all overwhelming. 

“Where am I?” 

The men laugh. “You’re right outside Stohess District, within Wall Rose. You’ve just won the lottery, missy,” one of them says.

“W-what do you mean? I’m not being arrested?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re now a citizen of Wall Rose.” The other man throws a small leather satchel at you. Inside are your wall citizenship papers and other forged documents. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask the men as they get back on the wagon.

“That’s not our problem.”

You’re confused, but you know this has to have something to do with Levi, so you prod further. “Where is Levi? Where did the Survey Corps take him?”

“He’s dead,” one of them dryly replies as he flicks the reins and they drive away. 

You’re left in the dust of their departing wagon, dirty and hungry, your mind swirling with thoughts and questions. You’re not sure of where to go or what to do from here, but one thing is certain:

Levi is gone and you are alone.

_____

A large clap of thunder startles you and you drop the bowl you were carrying, shattering it into several pieces. A nasty storm raged through Trost late last night, and can still be heard, even in the distance. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Meyer,” you say as you pick up the pieces of the earthenware bowl, “thunder has always scared me, ever since I was a child. I’ll buy you another bowl.”

“Think nothing of it, dear,” Mr. Meyer kindly replies. “It was old anyway. And you must be eager for Lars to return.”

“Yes, it should be any day now.” It’s been a little over two weeks since the Corps embarked on their expedition and if everything went as planned, you expected their return either today or tomorrow. But you’d learned not to get your hopes up - anything could happen out there. 

You couldn’t help but feel especially eager this time around. In just a few more days, Lars will resign from the Survey Corps and you can continue the next part of your marriage together. You’ll start a family, buy some land, and who knows - maybe you could even have your own bakery. Anything seemed possible now. 

You daydream about being pregnant with Lars’ child and being a mother, which makes you nervous. You never knew your own mother - would you even be a good parent? You decide that love is the most important thing, and the child will certainly have more than enough of that from you and Lars. And you’ll be damned if your baby comes into an unloving, broken family. 

But for the briefest of moments, you think back to memories of wanting Levi’s child. How there were times you would secretly hope you’d get pregnant, even though Levi was always so careful. He’d deny it, but you knew he’d make such a wonderful father - a little overprotective, perhaps, but loving and doting..”

You will yourself to stop these thoughts. Levi is in the past, you repeat to yourself again and again.

Lars is your present, your future.

 As the late afternoon sun shines through the bakery windows, you hear the shuffling of people and voices outside. It’s a familiar kind of energy - the Survey Corps must be returning.

Mr. Meyers gives you a knowing glance and a nod, then you leave the bakery and take the all-too-familiar route to the town square, just as you’ve done for every other expedition. Lars will probably be helping unload injured or getting his own scrapes attended to. You work your way through the crowd, looking for any sign of Lars or his squad.

When you finally find Petra, Oluo, and Eld, you head straight to them. “Where’s Lars? Is he inside the hospital? How many stitches is it this time?”

Your smile disappears when you finally look at Petra. She has tears in her eyes. “Lars is..”

You start moving backwards, shaking your head.

No.

 “Where is he?” Your voice cracks.

Eld moves toward you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “His body was taken inside to be cleaned..”

You wince when he says “body” and pull his hand off of you. It’s not true, it’s not true, you say to yourself as you walk into the hospital and ascend each step.

Then you see Gunther and Levi, placing a covered body on a stretcher, their eyes cast downward. Your stomach drops.

You walk tentatively forward. When the two men see you, they step back, allowing you to stand next to the stretcher. “No…” your voice is barely a whisper.

You look at them, your eyes pleading to them to say it’s someone else - anyone else. But they can’t even look at you.

So you move toward the body and pull down the cover. Then it’s like all the breath has been knocked out of you.

There, under the cover, is Lars. His eyes are closed, peaceful, but you can’t look for more than a second before you start to feel dizzy and confused, as if everything is spinning. You stretch your hand out to brace yourself against the wall. 

Is someone saying your name? It sounds far away. You look at Levi - his mouth is moving. What is he saying? 

“What happened,” you somehow manage to ask. 

“There was a titan attack. An abnormal came out of the trees and my ODM gear wouldn’t work. He-,” Levi pauses for a moment, “he gave his life to save me.”

“Save you?” you repeat the words but it’s as if you can’t fully process anything you’re hearing. You feel completely numb. “Idiot..I told him to look after himself first. To keep himself alive so we..” you can’t even finish your sentence; the numbness is replaced with a deep sadness rising up from the pit of your stomach. 

A nurse comes into the corridor. “Excuse me, but we need to clean the body before it’s given to the family.”

Before she even has time to move the stretcher, you grab her hand. “I’m his wife - I’ll clean his body.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s against hospital regulation,” she tries to move her hand, but you’ve grabbed it hard.

“I don’t give a shit about regulations. Noone is gonna lay a hand on him.” Your voice is resolute.

Levi steps between you and the nurse. “I’ll deal with any administration that has a problem with what she wants to do. Just give her the room with him.” He looks at you, placing a gentle hand on top of yours. “Y/n, let go of the nurse.”

You release the nurse’s hand and she steps back. “Just..follow me,” she says, shaking her head and leading you all to a small room at the end of the hall.

Lars' body is brought into the room and laid on a cold, metal table. The nurse prepares the cleaning materials, then everyone leaves except Levi. You can feel him behind you. 

“Get out..” you weakly command. 

Levi says your name and reaches out to you. 

“Get out!” Your body bristles and your pain explodes into those two words. 

Then silence. What can Levi even say at this moment? He feels completely helpless. “I’ll be outside,” is all he can muster before he walks out and closes the door.

The afternoon sun is shining through the room, giving it a golden glow. A slight medicinal smell fills the air and it stings your nose, but other than that, you don’t feel anything. In a daze, you walk over to Lars and uncover his body. 

Death is a common sight in The Underground. It’s a shadow that follows everyone. If you didn’t die of malnutrition or lack of sunlight, you’d probably be killed by some other desperate soul just trying to survive. Rotting, decomposing bodies in the streets, abandoned and forgotten - by the time you were an adult, the sight barely phased you. 

But now, looking at your husband’s body, you feel queasy and faint. Bile rises up into your throat, and you have to swallow hard to keep it down. His body - it’s difficult for you to imagine him now as just a body - is bloody and dirty, and his right leg is missing from just above the knee. His skin is cold and stiff, and when you start taking off his uniform, more cuts and bruises are revealed. Numbness once again washes over you, a defense mechanism from enduring years of loss and pain. But you’ve never experienced a loss like this. 

There’s a basin of hot, soapy water next to the table so you take a sponge and begin washing his face and hair. As you continue down his body, tears begin to form in your eyes, the reality of your lover’s death sinking in more and more. But you blink them away - you’re not ready to mourn yet. 

When you finish, you cover him with a cotton sheet and it looks as if he’s only sleeping, but there's a smell in the air that reminds you otherwise. As you gently dry his hair with a towel, memories you had pushed aside for the moment suddenly come flooding back. You’d spent almost four years with this man and just like that, he’s gone. 

And that’s when the tears start falling down your cheeks. You take a deep breath and just start crying, your whole body convulsing with sorrow. It’s a physical pain that radiates from your heart and travels through your nerves. You drape your body over his covered torso, pleading for your lover to come back to you.

Levi sits in front of the door through the rest of the night; a silent sentinel as he listens to your muffled cries.

You awaken early the next morning to Levi gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up. Lars’ mother and father are here.”

You rub your swollen, bloodshot eyes. When did you finally fall asleep last night? Your head feels groggy, as if you’re in some state between sleeping and waking, but when Lars’ parents enter the room, you are jolted awake.

Lars’ mother clasps her hand over her mouth. “No..my boy..my sweet Lars..” she walks over to the table on which his body still lies. “No, no, no..” she wails.

His father takes his time walking over, but neither of them acknowledge your presence. He puts his hand on his wife’s shoulder as she weeps over Lars’ body. 

“We should get him to a mortician as soon as possible so we can take his body home,” he finally remarks.

“Yes..let me just go back home and change my clothes, and then I can meet you both later to depart for Ehrmich,” you weakly reply to him as you stand up to walk towards the door.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Lars’ mother shoots her head toward you. “As far as we are concerned, we have no more connection to you. We’ll handle Lars’ burial.”

You stand there in absolute shock at her words. “What do you mean? I’m his wife.”

“And we never wanted that for him. I mean, who even are you? You have no family, no history. We know absolutely nothing about you.”

She moves closer to you, her face contorted with grief. “Do you want to know why Lars never brought you to our home to visit? It’s because he knew that we disapproved of this marriage from the start. He was too good for you!” She looks around the room. “He was too good for any of this!”

“That’s enough, dear.” Lars’ father finally interjects, the pain and sorrow visible on his face. “I’m sorry, but it would be better if you’d let us handle things from now on.”

Some hospital staff arrive to help move Lar’s body out of the hospital. As his parents depart, the father stops as if he wants to say something to you, but shakes his head and moves on.

You stand in the now-empty room in complete shock. A voice inside you is screaming for you to fight back, to insist that you accompany Lars and his family back to his hometown. 

But you don’t because there’s another voice telling you that they’re right. You were never good enough for Lars, you’ve known that from the very beginning. For the last few years, you thought you were more, that you were worth something. Lars had made you feel that way. But you’ve always been just some trash from The Underground with no family and no future. 

Levi had stepped out of the room when the parents arrived, in order for you all to have privacy, but he was confused when you didn’t leave with them. When he looks in the room he sees you standing there in a daze. 

“Hey, you alright?” He says, eyes full of concern.

“I’m tired..”

“Why aren’t you going with Lars’ parents?”

“They don’t want me. I’m going home.”

He’s taken aback by those words. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, please I -“ you swallow hard. Your throat is so dry from crying. “I want to be alone,”

He watches as you walk away, wanting so badly to stop you, hold you close, and let you cry in his arms. But his own sadness and guilt stop him. Why did Lars do something so stupid? Why was he so reckless when helping others? You were finally in a place where Levi knew you would be safe and cared for, with a good man; now, that’s all gone.

Lars was the better man for you. He should be the one laying on that cold metal table; nobody would mourn him if he was gone.

Maybe she would, Levi thought to himself, as he looked out the window and saw you walk away.

You don’t really know how you get home, but somehow your body places one foot in front of the other and you walk out of the hospital and down the street. 

You feel completely empty - void of my feelings, tears, energy. Lars’ woolen military coat is hanging on a chair. You’d told him to bring it on the expedition, but he’d said it wasn’t cold enough yet. You grab the coat, hold it close, and fall onto the bed. It still smells like him - a mix of pine trees and sunshine - and you realize you’ll never smell that again, never feel his arms around you again. 

Your chest tightens and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. You gasp for air but it feels like it’s not enough to fill your lungs, as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. A few years ago, you’d almost drowned when you tried to swim with Lars in a lake outside Jinae. Your lungs ached for air and panic had set in until Lars was able to pull you up just in time. This feels exactly the same.

Except Lars isn’t here to save you this time.

You close your eyes, hoping you’ll fall asleep and never wake up.

_____

A week passes, and Levi is making his way to Trost. He volunteered to pick up supplies needed for Headquarters, which he could have easily assigned to someone lower in rank, but he wanted an excuse to check on you. The entire squad had traveled to Ehrmich District for Lars’ funeral and burial and he had expected to see you there, but you were nowhere to be found. When he asked the others, they hadn’t heard from you. 

Lars’ final words to Levi echoed in his mind daily. He had to make sure you were alright. 

He first stopped at the bakery, hoping you would be working, but Mr. Meyer said he hadn’t seen or heard from you since you’d left to meet the Survey Corps’ return. 

“I went by her home to see if she was ok, but no one had answered. I just assumed she’d stayed in Ehrmich with Lars’ family.”

Now Levi was worried. His stomach was in knots as he rode to your house and just as it was with Mr. Meyer, there’s no answer when he knocks. The door is locked, but Levi had learned how to pick a lock in his younger days, and he makes quick work of getting it open. 

It’s dark when Levi enters, and the air is stale and heavy. There’s a half eaten loaf of bread on the table and he notices a dying fire in the hearth, the only sign that you must still be here.

It’s when he enters the bedroom that he sees your body curled up on the bed, a wool blanket wrapped tightly around you.

He sits on the bed and moves your hair off your face; when he says your name, your head turns toward him. 

“Levi? What are you doing here?”

“Nobody has seen or heard from you. Have you even been outside lately?”

“I don’t know…what day is it?”

Levi looks around the unkempt room. “This place looks like shit,” he turns back to you, “and you look even worse.”

You tighten the blanket around you. “Please Levi..just leave me alone. I want to sleep.”

“From the looks of it, that’s all you’ve been doing.” Levi opens the curtains of the front window and starts cleaning up the place. There’s clothes strewn about everywhere and as he starts folding them and putting them away, he notices Lars’ wool jacket next to you. He puts it on a hanger. 

“I heated up some water. You need a bath.” You look so weak, and so Levi sits on the bed and lifts you into his arms. “Come on, let’s get you in the tub.”

He carries you to the washroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head leaning on his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d come to see me.”

He clicks his tongue. “Don’t be stupid.” When he gets to the bathtub he puts you down and his expression softens. “I should have come sooner.”

You lift your arms and he helps you take off your sleeping gown. He thought you felt light when he carried you, but looking at your naked body, he can tell you haven’t been eating much, if at all. You hold his hand as you slowly step into the tub and sink into the water. 

You’re not sure why your body aches the way that it does, but the warmth of the water instantly makes you feel more alive. Levi sits next to the tub, wets a washcloth, and begins to wash your hair and weary body. 

Levi handles you as if you are the most precious thing, capable of breaking at a moment’s notice. His hands are gentle as he moves the washcloth over your arms and legs. 

A sigh escapes him as he looks at your emaciated state. “Y/n, what are you doing? You’re only hurting yourself by not eating.”

“Maybe that’s the plan.”

“Hey,” he grabs your chin and turns you to look at him, “don’t say shit like that.”

Your mouth turns downward. “Why do you care? You gave away that right a long time ago.”

He lets go of you, sadness and guilt shrouded in his eyes. “You know I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Right. You cared so much that you left.”

“I got you above ground. I..thought what I did was the right thing.”

“It wasn’t,” you say bluntly. “Can’t you see? You broke my heart into a thousand pieces. And just when I was putting them together again, this-”

You run your fingers through your wet hair, a knot of despair growing larger inside you. “There’s never a goodbye. Just the men I love, torn from me. I’m tired of being left behind.”

Levi sits there silently, his heart aching for you. He yearns to take away all your hurt and pain, but he knows that he’s the root of so much of your sadness.  

“It’s like I’m underground all over again. Any ray of light I touch…disappears. Why can I not keep anyone in my life?”

“I’m here. I’m in your life,” Levi retorts, but he knows it’s a weak defense.

“By chance, not by choice. If it wasn’t for Lars, if he hadn’t joined the Corps and your squad, I would still think you were dead.”

You’re right, he can’t deny it. He’d done it all so you’d have a chance at a new, better life, but had hurt you deeply in the process. “I…made the wrong choice. I’m sorry.”

You put your head in your hands, hopeless. “It’s too late for apologies.” You suddenly stand and step out of the tub, but Levi immediately reaches out to you. You try to get out his grip, but it only makes him hold on to you tighter.

“I’m all alone now.”

Levi sighs. “You’re not alone.”

“Oh yeah? Where were you when I was left to fend for myself in Stohess? When I had to sleep in alleyways and under bridges because I had nowhere to go? When I was knocked out and robbed of all the money you and I had saved?” You push his chest with each question. “Where were you when I searched every jail and prison in Wall Rose for any sign that you were alive?”

Levi grabs your shoulders and looks intently into your eyes. The same sad eyes of a little girl who’d been beaten and exploited by her father, with the same look you gave him when he rescued you from that brothel so long ago. When he was a boy he’d vowed to protect you, and now he knows he hadn’t lived up to that promise. 

“STOP. I’m here now. And I’m not leaving you, ever again.”

There’s silence except for your deep breaths. Without realizing it, he’s pulled you close; so close that your bodies are almost touching.

“You are?”

He’s forever tethered to you, he knows that now. He will never stop loving you, will never stop fighting for you. 

“..yes..” his voice is a whisper as he moves ever closer. He loosens his grip and you look at him with lidded eyes. There’s sadness there, but something else too. His eyes rove over your naked body and he dares to move his hands lower until they rest on the small of your waist. 

He hasn’t touched you in years, but it’s so familiar, your body instantly reacts to it. Without thinking, your hand cups his cheek. This yearning, this love, you can’t escape it; it’s left a deep scar that will never go away. You’d once thought of Levi’s love as a shadow, deep and cool; but his love is a fire, its heat consumes you until nothing is left but ashes and dust.  

And so you throw yourself into the flames.

Neither of you knows who moved first, but your lips crash together with a bold desire that can only be known between former lovers. You want him, you want him inside you, to fill this emptiness in your heart. You tug at his shirt while he pulls off his boots and undoes his pants, both of you desperate to feel something - anything - other than this deep pain and longing the two of you share. He grabs your breasts hard as you bite and kiss down his neck, and he takes in a breath when he feels your teeth. He grabs the hair at the nape of your neck and forces you to look at him; the look in your eyes is wild and untethered and he grows hard with desire. He lifts you up and presses you against the tiled wall. 

Your legs wrap around him as his cock enters you, so forcefully that it takes your breath away. But you welcome the pain and Levi thrusts even harder, his lips all over you.

“I’m here. I’m right here…feel me? Can you feel me right here?”

“Y-yes..” you moan. “Levi…I need you,” you plead. “Harder…”

He grunts as he pounds into you. “I tried to stay away from you. I wanted you to be happy without me. But I can’t.” He moans. “I can’t.”

Your hand grips his hair and you close your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure of Levi fucking you. You’d never forgotten this feeling, even though you hadn’t touched each other for so long. 

He lifts you up a little higher then walks you over to the bed. Although he throws you down and is on top of you in an instant, you quickly turn the tables and push him down. You straddle him and begin to rub your swollen pussy over his cock, but when he can’t take it anymore he grabs your hips and pushes himself inside you. The act warrants a loud moan from both of you, then you’re riding his cock, his fingers digging into your hips as you move them up and down. You sit up and put your hands on his chest; as if you were made for him, your walls stretch around his girth. It all feels like you’re moving on pure instinct; your logical mind shuts off as you give in to your primal desires.

But then it suddenly hits you - you’re fucking Levi on your bed; the same bed that you and Lars shared. Emotions overwhelm you as you think about the intimate moments shared with him here. Now, he’s gone and Levi is here; the man who left you alone and abandoned, even when he claims to love you.

Pleasure and pain. Hurt and desire. Love and guilt. Each emotion manifests in every snap of your hips. 

The next thing you know, your palm closes over his throat, flattened fingers closing in on the sides of his neck, and his eyes flash. The subtle dominance of your grip is the personification of your hold on him, as you wordlessly demand his every sound and breath in this moment.

Being manhandled like this by you, your act of taking his reigns like he’s not fucking the breath out of you makes his lip curl. The gesture does not go unnoticed by you, so with your eyes locked, you dare a little pressure against his throat just to show him. The thinning of oxygen seems to cut through any numbness he felt, leaving him stripped bare with every single sensation from you running unbridled through his veins.

You feel it, your power over him as all his defenses break down. A moan escapes your mouth as he hits a deeper spot of pleasure, nails sinking into his biceps. “I knew it. You’ve been waiting to get me like this,” you lean closer, “haven’t you?”

You couldn’t stop the words leaving your throat; it felt like if Levi was going to help you through this like he promised, then you needed to twist the knife. Nothing with you and Levi was ever easy. 

Your words, mingled with his own guilt, spark a feral anger in him. Enraged, he flips you over, pinning your hands above your head and pushing your legs against your chest as he fucks you hard without mercy or remorse. 

He leans in close, his sweat dripping on your chest. “My apologies aren’t good enough, so what do you want me to say? Huh? That it drove me crazy to think of you fucking another man, when I knew you were mine? That this pussy has always been mine. That so many times, I wanted to fuck his scent off of you.” 

His grip on your wrists tightens. The sound of his skin slamming into yours reverberates through the room. “But you belong to me. You always have.”

“Y-yes..” you moan. There’s no denying it from either of you any longer. You have always been Levi’s - mind, body, and soul.

When he feels his climax approaching, he doesn’t pull out. He wants to claim you, once and for all, so he comes inside you with one hard thrust.

His cock twitches as it fills you up, but you don’t resist it. Even after his climax, he continues to grind into you until you meet your own orgasm - an intense jolt of pleasure surging through you. 

You lie next to each other, sweaty and breathless. You’d laid yourselves bare to each, physically and emotionally - no more lies, no more pretenses. But your body’s pleasure was quickly being replaced with a feeling of guilt. Had you been pretending with Lars all along? No, what you had with him was true. But why does being with Levi feel so right?

Levi pulls you into his arms and you put your head on his chest. You can hear his heart beating, steady and strong. “It’s not wrong, what we did,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “I love you. I’m going to take care of you.”

You answer by wrapping your arm around his waist. He loves you; after everything, he still chooses you. Maybe this is a chance to begin again. 

The afternoon passes and neither of you move from each other’s arms. Eventually, Levi rises from the bed.

“I need to get back to Headquarters. They’ll wonder what happened if I don’t return soon.” 

You watch him as he walks to the washroom, gathers his clothes, and gets dressed. “Don’t go,” you plead. 

He looks at you and his face softens as he ties his ascot. “I have to, but I’ll be back in 3 days. I’m going to have some food sent to you and I want you to eat. No more starving yourself.”

As he walks by the bed you sit up and grab his arm. “Don’t go back, Levi. Quit the Survey Corps. We can leave this place, together. Just us - like it used to be.”

His eyes widen then his face grows serious as he sits next to you. “You know I can’t do that. I made a promise, one that I don’t take lightly.”

Those words feel like metal in your veins. “Lars said the same thing.” Your eyes water. “And what of your promise to me?”

“I don’t intend on breaking either.” His voice is resolute. “We can discuss this more later, but until then I want you to take care of yourself.”

He caresses your cheek and kisses you once more, and then you hear the front door open and close as he returns to his world.

_____

In three days time, Levi is again riding to Trost. He didn’t make up an excuse this time, but only mentioned that he was going to check on you. No one would question that - Lars was an important part of his squad after all - but he wasn’t sure how you two should move forward in your relationship. It would need to be kept secret for a while, to avert any malicious gossip toward you. Honestly, he didn’t know how this was going to work, but he knows he wants to be with you. Too much time had already been wasted.

He knocks on the door of your house and just like before, there’s no answer; this time, however, the door is unlocked. Everything is clean and in its place, but as Levi walks from room to room, there’s nothing but darkness. 

“Can I help you with something?” An older woman calls from the entrance. When Levi turns around, she recognizes him immediately - everyone knows him in Trost. “Ah, Captain Levi. What can I do for you?”

“The woman who lived here, where did she go?”

Her face turns to a scowl. “She disappeared in the night about two days ago. At least she cleaned up and left money for the remainder of her rent.”

Levi’s heartbeat quickened. “And she gave no word of where she was going?”

“No…nothing. Oh, she did leave this on the table.” She reaches into her pocket and takes out a simple gold band. “I wasn’t sure what to do with it.” 

The woman hands it over to Levi and he presses it between his fingers, his other hand turning into a fist as the cold reality of it all hits him like a slap to the face:

You’re gone.

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