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teakookssi · 1 year

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Before I Leave You [Eren/Levi x Reader FF]

[ curated playlist ][ full story can be found here or here ]

[Overview & prologue]

➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader

➺ status: continuous

➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst

➺warnings: SHIT. IS. DARK. YO. violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s attack on titan for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (:

chapter 3: in the company of killers pt 2

You curse under your breath at the sight of your fiancée making his way into the room.

Levi alone is enough to make things difficult for you, but if he was here, then your father wasn’t far behind, and you glance nervously to the door behind him. The last thing you want to deal with right now is your father berating you for your carelessness and underestimating your enemies when you were doing that just fine on your own.

Yet Levi appears to be alone, flanked only by his two usual guards and closest companions, Furlan Church and Isabel Magnolia. They wear the same tailored suits and coats as you and your cadre to conceal the weapons underneath — weapons, you suspect, that hardly ever leave their holsters. Levi and his team are known to be just as lethal without them.

A reputation very much on par with your own.

You watch closely as Furlan and Isabel stay behind and wait for Levi dutifully by the door as he cuts across the room towards you, no spoken communication needed between them. And as Levi draws nearer, you notice the dangerously unchecked hint of rage behind Levi’s usually detached gaze that makes most of your circle visibly flinch and step back behind you.

But your own gaze remains just as deadly, and you turn on them before Levi has the chance to reach you.

“Who told him?” you demand angrily.

They stare back at you, nonplussed, clearly not appreciating him being here, either. But then your eyes flicker over to Mikasa, whose stoic posture remains unperturbed.

“He would have found out sooner or later,” she replies unapologetically.

You clench your jaw, not at all surprised to find her responsible. “Yes,” you hiss back at her with great restraint, “when I had taken care of it!”

You then hear Levi’s deep, confident voice cut sharply behind you, and you tense.

“Anya.”

Your hands curl into fists at your side as you steel yourself for what follows. When you turn to face him, his stormy grey eyes stare back at you with furrowed brows. His intense gaze is enough to make anyone cower away.

Anyone, that is, except you.

He quickly scans your face for any signs that you’ve been hurt.

“I'm fine,” you tell him dismissively, ready to turn away, but then his rough and callus hand reaches for your face as something catches his eye. He brushes the front locks of your hair away to reveal the cuts on your brow and cheek that the shards of glass had scraped against your face.

You watch the concern vanish from his eyes and grow murderous as his attention shifts behind him. “Is that him?” he asks.

You follow his line of sight to Eren, who is looking between you and Levi with noticeably confused interest. He turns away when he notices you watching him, but he’s not fast enough. He’s realized the kind of bond you share with Levi based off your briefly intimate interaction with him and he can’t hide the humiliation coloring his cheeks. He must have really believed he had some sort of chance with you back then that you almost feel bad for him. Death should be his number one concern, but the recollection of his cheeky behavior at the pub must be just as horrifying.

You tense as Levi leaves your side to approach Eren’s dejected figure. “Levi,” you say in warning, realizing he probably thinks Eren is to blame for all of this if Mikasa informed him of only what she knows.

But Levi doesn’t listen, his temper long past its wits end. He goes straight for Eren, kicking at him until he has the guy hunched over against his bindings and spiting out blood.

You cross your arms at him with a frown, annoyed. “Can you please keep him alive long enough until I can get some answers out of him first?”

Levi stops, seemingly satisfied with his work, and sweeps the front part of his dark hair back up and out of his face. He starts walking back to you. “You’re done here. Let’s go.” He directs his next order to your cadre. “If he won't talk, kill him. Ymir is not taking any chances with him.”

He brushes past you on his way to the door, expecting you to follow after him, but you can't bring yourself to move. Levi has left Eren bloody and bruised, but he’s voiced what you and your cadre had been ultimately refusing to accept.

Eren is innocent.

One good look at him and Levi knew there was no point in continuing on with the interrogation. He’d seen what you had sensed in Eren when you first laid eyes on him — what you had all seen. Because no one with eyes as kind and naive as his could belong to someone of your enemies organization. If Eren had saved your life, he had done so as the morally upheld individual he was.

But…what did it matter?

He was, as Connie had said, a poor, unfortunate soul caught in the crossfire of one of your family’s ordeals, and his fate was already sealed.

You move to walk away.

“If father wants him dead,” you say indifferently, giving in to Levi’s orders, “then so be it. Clean this place up when you’re finished,” you tell your cadre. “Or Levi will surely have your heads after today.”

You hear Armin take an uneasy step towards you. “But there were witnesses,” he reminds you gently behind you, wishing you to reconsider. “Killing him will cause a rift between the people and House Ymir—”

“The people will believe what we tell them to believe,” you cut him off briskly over your shoulder, not in the mood to be challenged. Until you notice the hesitation in your cadre’s tense postures and clenched fists, at the wary glances they share with each other. And for a split second, you wonder if they will refuse you.

Their loyalty is unquestionable. They will not hesitate to kill for you, but your enemies have never been free of sin. This is the first time you have ever told them to take the life of an innocent.

You turn to them curiously. If you force their hand, will they come to resent you? Those who have been with you longer, like Mikasa and Jean, give you no judgement and will follow your command without question. But there are others, like Historia and Connie, who might regret having joined you at all and choose to desert instead. And you’d rather not lose them so soon. It would be such a shame to let such raw talent go to waste.

You let out a heavy sigh before drawing out your gun.

“Very well, then.”

They might not be able to handle carrying the burden of their guilt, but you’re as corrupt as they come. What was another kill under your ledger in comparison to theirs? Even if it was an innocent one.

Eren, who had been silently watching the exchange between you and your cadre with expectant eyes, reverts to panic as you direct your gun in his direction — your intent for him unmistakable.

“No wait, wait! Please, don’t shoot!” He closes his eyes and shrinks away as he hears you remove the safety, preparing himself for the worst while still trying to talk his way into your favor. “I can help! Let me prove my loyalty to you! Please!”

You hear the wretched sound of his voice break and you pause, your finger curled on the trigger. You run your eyes over him in consideration for a tense minute before ultimately lowering your weapon.

He peeks an eye open after a few seconds have passed and you show no indication of shooting him. He swallows nervously, still eyeing the gun warily at your side. “Please,” he says carefully, not wanting to say or do anything that might provoke you to change your mind. “I swear, I’ll do anything.”

You smirk ruefully.

Liar.

Someone as good-natured as him has always abided by a moral code. He cannot so easily abandon it, even if his life depended on it.

“Anya,” Levi calls to you impatiently from the door, urging you to leave. He senses you scheming and already know’s he disapproves of it, but you ignore him anyway.

You command calmly over your shoulder, “Mikasa. Jean. Bring in the other one.”

Levi tsks, eyeing Mikasa and Jean as they pass him on their way out the room. “Oi, Anya,” he says more firmly, shifting his attentive stance towards you, “we don’t have time for any of your games.”

His voice is impassive as always, but you know him enough to hear the strain in his words. You have him on edge and you can sense him watching you like a hawk, trying to calculate your next move. He hates that you’re always so rash and volatile, especially when on the field. It makes it hard for your team to catch up to you when you suddenly stray off the plan and act of your own accord. But it’s what your father loves best about you. You keep the enemy guessing, never letting them know what you’ll do next. And you take great pride in pleasing your father.

“He saved my life,” you explain to Levi simply. “If he wishes to live by my hand, I will have his undying loyalty first.”

But Levi draws out his gun, refusing to let you have your way. He has predicted what you’re planning for Eren and moves to eliminate him from your game.

Unfortunately for him, you’ve been expecting it.

The second he takes his gun to aim at Eren’s head, you’ve already released your own bullet. It aims true and knocks the gun right off your fiancee’s hand before he even has the chance to pull the trigger. He hisses at the impact and flexes his hand to alleviate the pain before flashing his grey eyes at you, an eyebrow raised indignantly, demanding for an explanation.

“I’m not finished with him,” you offer tersely, eyes focused on Eren, who looks as frightened and bewildered by your behavior to correctly determine if you’re this mentally unhinged or this is somehow all part of your plan.

Levi’s patience wears thin. “You want to add another pet to your collection?” he remarks coldly, running his deadpan gaze to the group of people behind you before turning to Eren with disdain. “I’ve got raggedy-ass shoes that will last longer than him.”

Before you can reply, Mikasa and Jean return with the marksman. You watch Eren closely as they dump the auburn-haired man in front of him, but Eren can only stare on in horror, shocked by the state the man is in. The guy’s barely conscious and is struggling to hold his own ground as he slouches on his knees, head bowed in defeat, with his clothes soiled from his own blood and filth.

Mikasa had been quick to spot him on the rooftop across the Red Rose a few moments after she’d left you and Jean to secure the area. She’d gotten to him the second after he’d pulled the trigger, gambling on the chances that Jean had managed to pull you out of harm’s way in time. And having already killed the two men that had been guarding the door at the roof, she knocked your assassin out cold and brought him back with her to help you figure out who’d hired him.

For that reason you’d let Mikasa, and Jean — who needed some outlet to free himself of the guilt weighing on him from your close call — to lead the interrogation.

“You want to help me?” you ask Eren cooly. With the marksman’s hands tied behind his back, you grab a fistful of his hair and raise his head so Eren can get a clear look at his face. “Tell me who this man is, and decide for yourself whether he deserves to live.”

A flicker of recognition immediately registers across Eren’s features and you tense, thinking maybe you were wrong about him after all and he was in fact working with the sniper. But then his eyes turn to you in confusion and says, “He’s a policeman.”

Your cadre collectively freeze beside you as you narrow your eyes at him. “What makes you say that?” you ask Eren carefully.

Though he wore no police uniform while he attempted to assassinate you, Eren is right. The hitman, Floch Forster, is undoubtedly a cop — along with the other two men Mikasa killed. She had collected their police badges when she’d been through with them and shown them to you as proof. It was why you had sent out Sasha to find out more information on Eren. To be certain he had no ties with them. But when Sasha located where Eren had been staying and done a quick search of his lodging for anything that could implicate him to any police unit or other possible enemy of yours, she had come out empty, save for his form of identification, which was of no use to you either since anyone in your line of business could easily forge a document to say exactly what it needed to say.

“I’ve seen him at the pub a few times this week,” Eren reveals quickly, noting your interest and wisely seeking to win your approval. “In his uniform,” he then adds, noting Floch’s current attire, “with a blond-haired man — I think he’s the Chief of Police. Erwin Smith?”

You and Levi immediately tense at the name, locking eyes. Erwin has been snooping around your pub? And without any of you knowing?

That bloody bastard.

Ever since he’d gotten close to taking your father down as a rookie nearly a decade ago, he has made it his personal mission to be the one responsible for bringing him in. He’s the only one who’s ever gotten close, and it’s this very fact that’s got him so obsessed. But with the way your father’s influence and empire continues to grow more and more powerful among the politically elite, your father has become more untouchable than ever. Making Erwin and his law enforcement pose more of a nuisance now than a real threat to him.

If Eren is telling the truth, Erwin has become frustratingly aware of this and it’s made him either truly desperate and reckless, or incredibly bold to risk stepping down his high horse and walk amongst the filthy streets of the underworld with the same human trash he so desperately wants to wipe clean from this world.

You chuckle wryly at the thought.

As if you would ever let him walk out of here alive.

Before your cadre can protest, you go behind Eren and cut him free of his bindings. You offer him your gun.

“Kill him,” you say, nodding to Floch. “Take his life and keep yours. This is my bargain.”

“Anya!” Levi chides incredulously, no doubt questioning your sanity for handing over your own hostage a gun he could easily turn around and point to at anyone in the room.

He attempts to make his way over to you, but you raise a hand in his direction to stop him in his tracks. The fiery look he throws at you could burn cities to the ground, but he reluctantly stays put. Albeit, now within a closer range of you.

“Come on, Eren,” you coerce. “Prove to me you are worth saving. Show me where your loyalty lies.”

As if sensing his impending doom, Floch raises his head with whatever strength he has left. His eyes are barely open but they remain trained on Eren, knowing that his fate rests in his hands and waiting to see what he’ll do with such power.

But Eren shakes his head, lips trembling and eyes lined with tears. “I can’t.”

You note his fists clutched tightly in front of him. His face, twisted in visible pain. And you know, what you’re doing to him here, is doing more damage than any physical torture you could have ever inflicted upon him.

“Take the gun, Eren,” you command sharply, shoving it in front of him. “Shoot him.”

Eren turns his head away, refusing to even look at the gun, let alone the man across from him who’s waiting with death at his doorstep.

You sigh heavily at his pathetically heroic and selfless resolve. He doesn’t have it in him, as you knew he didn’t. So you do it for him, the sound of the gunshot echoing across the room like lightning.

Eren involuntarily flinches and draws back, the only one surprised by your impulsivity as Floch’s body collapses on the floor with a thud, a bullet straight to his brain.

Eren looks on in shock at the dead man you’ve left in front of him. He had been within close range for Floch’s blood to jump back at him and he raises a shaking hand to his face, having felt the drops land on his face. He looks back in horror at the blood he finds there, staining his fingers red.

Your cadre shift around Eren warily. He looks like he’s about to be sick, but you spare him no sympathy. You snatch your coat back from Historia and drop it in his lap for him to drape over his bare shoulders since you ripped his shirt open earlier trying to take it off him. He may not be a killer, but you had other uses for him.

He blinks a few times at the coat in his lap before his bleak expression slowly rises to meet yours. But he finds no solace there. Your siren eyes remain as cold and distant as ever.

“A vacancy has just been opened,” you inform him with eerie calmness, “and you’re going to fill it.”

—

A few hours later you’re massaging the back of your neck with your hand as you make your way up the stairs to your room.

You’re ready for this day to be over. Getting told off for today’s incident by your father was truly the cherry on top to this cursed day. You're imagining yourself wrapped up in the comfort of your bed, ready for sleep to take you as you feel the weight of exhaustion overpower your senses. But when you reach the top of the stairs, any hope for this day to meet its end immediately gets thwarted.

Levi stands waiting for you against the wall next to the door to your room looking aloof, his arms crossed over his chest. He still wears his tailored suit, but he carries no visible weapons, and though he appears calm, you can tell he’s every bit upset.

You let out a heavy sigh, sensing where this is going.

He’s usually never home at night, always out either patrolling or running some late night errand for your father since his insomnia doesn't allow him much rest. But if he’s been waiting here patiently for you to finish speaking with your father, that dull gaze in his eyes is more alight than he's leading on.

“If you're here to give me more grief about today, then just go,” you say, walking past him to open the door to your room. “I’ve heard enough from my father already. I don’t need to hear any more from you.”

But he follows you inside as if you’ve said nothing at all, feeling him glowering behind you as you turn on the lights.

“You let your guard down,” he tells you reproachfully, closing the door behind him as you commence to strip yourself free of your blood speckled shirt — your gun and holster already chucked at your bedside table.

You deliberately ignore his comment and inspect the blood stains on your button up shirt more closely before discarding it altogether. Another high quality shirt, wasted.

“How do you keep your clothes free from all the goddamn blood?” you ask him, glancing over at his top rather enviously as you pull out a clean shirt from your drawers to put on. “Your shirts are always so white and pristine.”

But then your eyes wander up to his face and you falter. Levi is staring at you with a level of pain and fear you had not seen him display to you before so openly. It startles you.

His voice is thick with emotion. “Just because you don’t fear dying, doesn’t mean you can’t be killed.”

Your eyes instantly soften and you find yourself overwhelmed with the need to comfort him. Cutting the space between him, you raise a hand to cup his face and caress his cheek while your other hand rests firmly against his chest. He leans against your touch lovingly, not caring that your hands are scarred with murder when his are just as equally marred. The sight of him like this, so soft and vulnerable, reminds you of the smiling, playful boy from all those years ago. The boy you first fell in love with, before either of you had ever known of grief and heartache and treachery.

He’s so close, his familiar leather and earthy scent floods your senses. “I have no intention of dying,” you tell him gently in reassurance, thinking of Erwin Smith and the bullet you carry with his name on it in the top inner corner of your coat. “Not anytime soon, anyway.”

He frowns. Your choice of words do little to console him. You know his opinion over this matter, but his eyes flicker down to your lips with longing, and you know he doesn’t want to waste time fighting.

And, truthfully, neither do you.

You lean in to bring your mouth to his and his eyes instantly close. You feel his body grow still at your touch, as if allowing you to do with him what you will, but you refuse to let him submit to you so easily.

You keep your kiss brief and chaste, feeling only his soft, warm lips against yours before breaking away to take in his expression.

When he feels you draw away, his eyelids slowly open, looking dazed. His grey eyes meet yours and you smile wickedly at the glint of desire you find there. He realizes you’re teasing him, but he doesn't seem to care. Your taste is on his lips and you’ve left him craving for more.

Knowing what you want from him, he pulls you in and claims your mouth, hard. Almost angrily. The force of it pushes you back but he quickly hooks an arm around your waist to keep you pressed to him, needing you close. His other hand slips into your hair, holding the back of your head to keep you near as he moves his mouth against yours with a lavishing hunger that only your lips can satisfy.

But then he breaks away, and you almost scold him for stopping so soon, until you realize you’re both in desperate need of air. He remains close enough for his heated breath to mingle with yours, but as soon as his chest slows its accelerated breathing, his mouth is quick to find yours again.

Except this time, his lips brush against yours most delicately, and his pace slows, as if taking his time salvaging your taste, and you hate how easily he can restrain himself.

You ache for more, but he’s already pulled away, moving his hands to cup your face and rest his forehead against yours. Your disappointment is plain to see and you reach for the collar on his shirt, wanting to pull him in again, but then you notice the way his eyes close, his expression growing pained, and you stop yourself.

His brows knit together. “You terrify me, you know that?” he admits in a low voice. “I never know what you're thinking.” His eyes snap open and never ending storms rage back at you. “If something had happened to you today—” His breath hitches, as if just the thought itself was unbearable, and he takes you in his arms without warning, embracing you tightly in his hold.

You instinctively tense, taken aback by his behavior, but he's too caught up in his own emotions to notice. His head rests in the nook of your neck, seeking your warmth and comfort, and you hesitate briefly before you slowly start to wrap your arms around him, caressing the back of his head in a soothing manner absentmindedly.

You don’t understand why he’s so triggered. You and him have been dancing with death ever since that day as children. To cower away from it now is senseless. But, perhaps, it’s as he’s said. You're so obsessed with the need to destroy your enemies, you act without any consideration for your life — for what your death might do to those closest to you; to what it might do to him.

If only that girl from before was here in your place. She would have never need to be so cruel.

You begin to pull away. “You Ackerman’s are so easily riled.”

The grated tone in your voice startles him, and you feel his grip on you loosen. It’s enough to set you free, and you try not to shiver at his lack of warmth as you carefully avoid his gaze and move to your bedside table to empty the rest of your pockets.

“If you and Mikasa had your way, I’d be sitting at home in the countryside enjoying an afternoon tea while my mother’s blood soaks through the ground at my feet.”

“Don’t,” he snaps at you in warning, feeling the intensity of his scowl from where you’ve left him standing. The last thing he wants is to be reminded of that day tonight, but the thought of almost losing you today is weighing him down and his last words turn pleading. “Just don’t.”

The remaining of your weapons land carelessly on the table with a sharp thunk. “Then don’t come to me demanding I let such injustices go unpunished,” you counter back.

He turns to leave, bitter but resigned. “I wouldn't have to if you weren’t so willing to destroy yourself to get there.”

A flash of rage burns through you at his words, lighting you up like a match. Swiping the closest of your blades from your bedside table, you lunge for him.

Instinct kicks in for the both of you and you’re brought back to the days you used to train together as children, always pitted against each other because no one else ever stood a chance. He’s seen you coming and easily dodges your swings. Were you actually trying to hurt him, your moves would be more calculated and precise, but your attacks are hinged with emotion. They’re wild and messy and he takes no time to secure locking your wrists in his hands. He forces you to drop the blade to the floor before swiftly turning you around, trapping you in his arms with your back to his chest.

This only makes you growl with fury. You refuse to be caged. To be controlled and overpowered. By him, by anyone.

Mercilessly, you take a jab at his side with your elbow. He eases his grip slightly at the blow and you hook your foot behind his leg to flip him over on his back. He groans at the impact as you fall down with him, but you’ve landed next to your blade. You don’t hesitate to reach for it. To drive it to his throat.

He catches your fists just before the sharp edge of your knife can make contact, a brief look of surprise crossing his face before it twists in an effort to keep you from pressing your blade further down. You’re positioned right over him, giving you the edge as you dig your feet with clenched teeth onto the ground to steel your weight against him.

But it’s the way he’s looking at you, with this sad look in his eyes that reminds you too much of the boy from that day, the boy who had lost what he’d held most dearly, and your grip on the blade weakens.

Sensing this, Levi pries the blade from your hands and tosses it aside, but you hardly react. Your brows draw together and your next words come out choked and pained. “You would betray me?”

His eyes widen in alarm at your accusation. He reaches for you as you begin to pull away.

“Anya—”

You snatch your wrist away and crawl further away from him, appalled. You were angry and hurt before, expressing yourself in the only way you knew how. But the anger has passed. Now there’s only hurt.

“They took everything from us that day.” Images of blood-speckled bellflowers invade your mind. “No child that young should ever have to know that kind of suffering.” You glare at him from across the room. “How can you so easily turn your back on something like that? You of all people!”

His back rests against the side of your bed as he meets your gaze with eyes hard as steel. “If you really think me capable of that,” he says in a deep, guttural voice, “than you don’t know me at all.”

You laugh wryly as you recall muttering those same words to his cousin just earlier that day. But his eyes mirror yours well, and you rest assured. The fire is still there. Burning and raging with the need for relentless retribution.

“Then why hesitate?” you demand, exasperated. “I would gladly cast aside my humanity if it meant destroying them all. Can you not say the same?”

“My humanity, I would. I already have. What I will not sacrifice is you.”

An indecipherable look passes through your eyes then before you expression turns sour. You rise to your feet.

“You have grown soft,” you spit out in contempt as he remains sitting on the floor by the side of your bed, watching you approach, too tired and defeated to bother standing up. “Weak.”

But his expression remains blank despite your insults, keeping his gaze leveled to the floor in front of him as you reach him.

“Our life has always been a gamble against those threatening to take it from us,” you say standing over him, “and we cannot win by playing it safe.” You move to walk past him. “If you are not with me, then you are against me.”

A scowl appears over his features and he snatches your wrist before you can take another step, keeping you planted beside him. “Don’t do that. I am on your side.” His eyes bore into you as he looks up to meet your gaze. “I will die first before betraying you.”

You study him closely. The element of truth in his words is undeniable. You never questioned it. He would fight alongside you until the bitter end, but you can tell the exhaustion is weighing heavily on him. Years of carrying such dark emotions so close to your heart can do that to a soul.

You feel it too.

Yet you yank your wrist free. “Then do not concern yourself with my safety now. I trust your strength enough to know it will bring you back home every night. So do the same for me. If you cannot rely on that to keep me alive,” you say, turning away, “trust my rage.”

You leave him sitting there as you pull back the sheets from your bed and climb in.

“Kill the lights on your way out.”

Not wanting to see the expression written on his face at your cold dismissal, you lay on your side with your back to him and wait for him to leave.

For a brief moment he doesn’t move, as if deliberating with himself whether to obey you and leave, or continue trying to reason with you even when he knows it will render futile. Eventually you hear him rise and start for the door. He turns off the lights as he opens the door to your room. A small pause later, you hear it close.

Your eyes start to shut when you hear his footsteps again and your bed shifts at his weight as he joins you. You start to sit up, glancing at him over your shoulder in the darkness, confused, but he hides his face against your back and presses you down before you can fully turn to him.

“Just stay like this,” he mutters into you, feeling his warmth wrap around you as his strong arms slide around your middle, drawing you close.

The weariness in his voice strikes you with a pang of sorrow, and a lump forms in your throat. You’re suddenly grateful he can’t see the expression on your face as your composure begins to crack. You need to push him away, to assure him of your strength, but his familiar scent clouds your judgement and your willpower dwindles.

You easily give in to him and you melt perfectly in his arms.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel his body grow heavy against you as sleep quickly befalls him and his hold on you loosens. Only then do you carefully turn in his arms to face him.

The moonlight shines brightly through your curtains, illuminating his face, and you gaze down at him with unveiled fondness. He’s positioned at a lower angle, with his head near your chest and you reach a delicate hand out to move the front locks of his hair that have fallen over the dark circles under his eyes. It’s hard to believe this boy tucked safely in your arms has a higher body count than anyone in House Ymir. Including yourself.

He looks so at ease and peaceful that you take your time admiring his features. You don’t get to see him like this very often, looking so mortal and human. He couldn’t afford it. You couldn’t afford it. To have survived this long, you both had to set yourselves apart from all the rest. If you were ever to incite fear into the hearts of your enemies, they had to believe your dangerous skillsets and inhuman strength and stamina was unnatural; that there was a chance you weren’t even quite human. To let down your guard, to allow them to think of you as their equal, was to risk appearing meek and vulnerable. And you could not allow this. No one, absolutely no one, could ever know that your source of immortality did not stem from god-like divinity, but rather pure, undiluted human rage.

Your fingers caress his soft cheek tenderly before moving up to trace the small, faint scar on the side of his forehead. A scar that never fully healed from when he tried to protect you that day from the invaders, and a sudden tightness wells up in your chest at the memory. You cradle his head closely in your arms.

The boy is just as scarred as you, if not more.

You lost your mother that day because of the men with badges, and your father was cornered and ambushed. But it was the Ackerman family who had been betrayed and slaughtered by one of their own. Kenny Ackerman — Levi’s uncle, his mother’s brother — had sided against his own clan and allied with Erwin Smith.

In exchange for having his crimes pardoned and obtaining a powerful relation with the Crown so he could live his life lavishly, Kenny promised to deliver Erwin not only your father, but the Ackerman’s as well. And for a young and ambitious man like Erwin, the opportunity of taking down two of the deadliest crime gangs of Paradis with one stone was worth complying to one crooked man’s demands.

Serving as Erwin’s informant, Kenny told Erwin of when and where he would be able to move in on your father during one of his business deals with Levi’s father—a calculated move that would put both crime bosses in a compromising position and with enough evidence on them to have them rot in prison for the rest of their lives.

Were it not for your father’s growing suspicion of Kenny, Erwin might have succeeded. Yet the moment the Ackerman clan realized it was Kenny who had led the attack, the Ackerman’s did not hesitate to go after their blood-traitor. They’d rushed forward as the first line of defense, lethally armed with equal amounts of weapons and fury. But no one had expected the number of police squads Kenny and Erwin had armed and ready for them, and it cost the Ackerman’s not only more than half of their men, but Levi’s mother and father as well.

If the rest of your father’s men hadn’t arrived in time to back them up to help him escape with you and Levi, perhaps the Ymir clan would have suffered the same fate.

And without a leader to hold them together, the remaining members of the Ackerman clan were left weak and vulnerable and open for attack from enemy gangs. Levi— being the only son and heir to the Ackerman gang — was too young to take up the mantle, but your father and Levi’s family had always been good friends of the family. And if it hadn’t been for the Ackerman’s, neither him or you or Levi would have made it out alive. So to honor the memory of Levi’s parents and protect their remaining clan, your father made the union between you and Levi known to everyone in the underworld. The marriage itself would take place when you and Levi came of age, but by setting the union in place, your father had made it clear that any enemy of the Ackerman clan was now, by association, an enemy of House Ymir.

This won over the Ackerman’s loyalty to your father, and allowed your father to end up taking Levi under his wing, looking after him like his own son.

But Levi was not the same after his mother died. And you hate what it did to him. What it did to you both. They didn’t just take the people you both loved most in the world; what happened that day altered your entire lives.

Just a few months prior, when things had begun to get too close to home, your father had promised your mother he would leave his business in the underworld behind. That he would do one last job and then he would settle down and live a quiet life with you and your mother somewhere far away in the countryside.

Your father was an ambitious man. He had built his way up from nothing, and he was going to walk away from it all, for you. For your mother. But then they went on and killed her, taking along with her your father’s tender heart and the only chance of a normal, happy life for you as your father let himself succumb to the darkness.

You comb your fingers through Levi’s soft, raven hair lovingly. Levi was meant to come with you. Him and his mother. Even if Levi’s father opposed it, Levi and his mother would leave that world behind with you. But you had been robbed of that life before it ever had the chance to take flight, and so it seemed only fair you rid them of theirs in return.

You embrace Levi protectively in your arms as your eyes grow heavy with sleep. Your resolve, firm. You were coming for all the monsters that had hurt him. All the monsters with human faces that had stolen his laughter, his smile, his chance at happiness.

If you had to darken your soul to do it, then so be it. You would carry the burden of those sins for the both of you. Levi had suffered enough. You would keep moving forward.

Just as you feel your body give in to exhaust, Levi begins to stir in your arms before gently slipping away.

When you force your eyes open again, you find him hunched over on the side of your bed with his back to you. The small movement of his head as he glances over his shoulder tells you he’s sensed you’re awake, but he utters no words.

You look to him miserably. His insomnia is getting worse. He had slept not even an hour before he was forced awake again. You can only begin to imagine the nightmares that plague his dreams.

You then notice he’s got something in his hands. You catch a glimpse of it and realize it’s Eren’s identification papers. It was one of the many things you’d cleared out from your pockets and dumped on your bedside table.

“He’s supposed to be our age,” you mutter groggily, recalling the date of birth inscribed on it. “Yet he carries the innocence of a child.” And despite your fatigue, the resentment in your eyes shines brightly in the dark. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Levi makes no comment as he tosses the document back on the table and stands up to leave. He reaches the other side of the room, but lingers by the door.

“You aren’t doing him any kindness,” he tells you quietly, “keeping him alive.”

Eren’s tortured expression cuts through your mind as you think of the state you left him in.

Levi hates dealing with unnecessary violence. It’s why he’d attempted to take Eren out of the picture when he knew what you were planning to do with him. By keeping Eren alive, you were condemning him to a life of crime — you were corrupting his soul. To force him to live a life he was unsuited for, a life he did not have the mindset to endure … only endless torment and suffering awaited him.

Death was the most favorable choice in lieu of this life, and Levi thinks you spared Eren because you didn’t have the heart to kill an innocent man. If that were true, there might have been some hope for you yet. But you’re not looking to escape your darkness anymore; you’ve learned to love yourself there.

Your eyes flutter shut as you curl up in a ball under your sheets, darkness enveloping your vision. “Whoever said I was kind?”

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permian-tropos · 3 years

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daniilcourse keeps veering off into the worst directions... like I want to make arguments about whether its okay to enjoy problematic characters but I’m having to do cleanup duty on people’s actual misconceptions about the character where they think he killed everyone (no ffs lol the survivors of the plague shelter in the polyhedron in utopian ending) and like some new awful argument that the fact he uses the g-slur means he’s racist against Roma people in P2 when he’s literally saying how fucking disgusted he is at the town for having these predictable “medieval” prejudices

I guess folks who might be swayed by it maybe are too young or under-informed to actually know what is being discussed here, when he’s talking about marginalized people being accused of deliberately poisoning water, but all the jewish and part-jewish fans projecting jewishness onto daniil because of that line know what the hell I mean lol... it literally IS a medieval trope and it was often levied against jews in particular but it has persisted in so many forms to this day and p2 daniil dankovsky in 1915 apparently knows that better than the woke ppl in 2020 who are calling him out for slur usage instead of reading the meaning of his words

the way he talks about marginalized people might not use sensitive language because he’s a snobby white guy from 1915 -- and I don’t know if in 1915 Russia the politically correct language necessarily was “g*psy is a slur if you say it you’re cancelled” cause back then it was just Correct to be racist, and remember how as recently as Disney’s Hunchback it was common to use the word even in stories about prejudice against Romani people and IPL has a history of being bad about anti-Romani racism in P1 so this is a believably clumsy course correction from that -- but that line isn’t proof he’s racist.... deeply it is the opposite........

and the fact that someone’s gotta go and misrepresent one of the most correct and insightful things the man says, means now I’m ranting about how he’s actually anti-racist when obviously he’s still prejudiced in many ways and I still would argue it’s fine to enjoy his character.

but I have to address the actual wrong things said about him. clearing his name now, so the bitchelor by his logic owes me

edit: the dialogue in question bc this post is just a messy rant

#untitled plague game #discourse cw #daniil dankovsky #tagging for the haters to block this so they don't learn anything and continue being uninformed

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blairsanne · 3 years

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In the Cards (5)

Big Wolf on Campus fanfic. Merton x OC. [Tommy also gets some pairings.]

Kalida and Merton spend some time alone, and Merton learns that she only likes happy-ending movies. Then the trio hang out together and study like good kids, eat chicken in the hearse, and try not to drown at the Factory. Typical night in Pleasantville.

Also on FF & AO3.

Chapter 5: Wings

Merton winced as his most recent enemy held him against a wall. "So, you're a giant bird woman. What's that like?" It screeched in his face, then started its hypnotic spell, eyes glowing green.

"She's going to get Merton!" Kali yelled at the wolf man, who had just come back on scene. She was being held back from the fray by Tim and Travis Eckert, who had been hypnotized by the avian monstress. Tommy roundhouse kicked the bird woman in the head, stopping her gaze's affect. She turned and levied another attack on Tommy, and the two wrestled violently while Merton shook himself off.

Merton started toward Kali, who shook her head violently. "Help Wolfy!" He hesitated, but ran toward the nest in the corner and started smashing the eggs the giant bird creature had laid.

Finally, Tommy got the elixir they'd mixed down the bird's throat. Its bloated belly swelled and popped, spraying the room with green slime and white feathers.

T'n'T let go of Kalida, furrowing their brow in confusion. "Where are we?" "Travis, it's the Wolf Man!"

They took fighting stances as Merton rushed over to check Kalida over for injuries. "I'm fine," she murmured, rubbing her sore arms as he wrapped his around her protectively.

Tommy ran off, not wanting to get into it with the Eckert brothers. "Yeah! You'd better run!" Tim turned and puffed his chest at Kalida and Merton. "Hey Dawkins, why don't you ditch the dweeb and let us take you home?" "No thank you."

---

"You busy this weekend?" Kalida nibbled at her toast while Tommy scarfed down a second bowl of Wheaties. "Just studying." "Wanna help out at the football team's Bake Sale?" "Sure. What do you need?" "Some volunteers for setup and takedown, baked goods, and ideally some cute girls to help sell them…?' She laughed. "Tall order. But yeah, I'm in." She smacked his upper arm playfully. "Anything for my favourite cousin." "I heard that!" Dean yelled from the living room. "Sorry!"

"Do you think you could talk Brett into having the student council run a booth?" Kali winced. "I… guess…" "Thank you." He dumped his bowl in the sink and kissed her forehead on his way out of the kitchen. "I owe you big time!"

---

At lunch, Tommy slid into the seat beside Merton. "Hey buddy." "Hey Tommy. You get those bird feathers off your clothes alright?" "Oh, man, I scrubbed for like twenty minutes. I don't know what Kalida did with her stuff, but that green gel is like glue." Merton nodded. "She still doesn't know it's you?" "I don't think so." "I think you should tell her. In sitcoms, hiding things always leads to crazy shenanigans." "I dunno, man." "What about the full moon?" "I figured I'd just stay at your place all weekend again." "And what explanation are you going to give for Kalida not being allowed to join us?" "Uh… Guy time?" He rolled his eyes. "Yeah I can just imagine what she'll think two guys need to be alone all night together to do."

Tommy scratched his head. "I hadn't thought that far. I need to deal with this weekend first." "Oh, yeah, Bake Sale. We're all good to go." "Thanks, man. I asked Kali this morning, too, so she's gonna run a table." "Oh cute, what's she making?" "I'm not sure. She's also going to pull some strings with the student council." "I thought she decided not to join it." "Nah, but Brett's got a crush on her. She's gonna convince him to help out." He batted his lashes at Merton. He cringed, uncomfortable. "Great."

---

After school, Merton was grabbing his things when Travis Eckert smashed the locker beside his with his fist. Startled, Merton dropped the book he was holding. "Hi fellas." Tim grabbed the book and held it out of reach when Merton tried to take it back. "What's the big idea, embarrassing us in front of girl Dawkins yesterday?" Merton sighed. "I didn't do that." Travis grabbed Merton and pressed him against his open locker. "You better watch yourself, Dingle." "I'll keep that in mind, thank you for the alert." He forced a wincing smile.

"Whoa, what's after-happening now?" Kalida's voice startled T'n'T, who both turned to look at her, improving their posture. Kali snaked around Tim, pulling the book out of his hands coyly. She batted her lashes at the brothers while subtly holding the book out to Merton, behind her back. "Are you two snail-trails harassing my new favourite person?" "Dingle's a dingus. You should hang out with real men. Like us." Travis licked his pinky and index fingers and smoothed his eyebrows down. Merton had to suppress a gag as he shoved his book into his book bag, rolling his eyes.

"Oh?" Kali tilted her head at Travis. "You know, Merton here single-handedly protected me from the Wolf Man last night, unlike some guys I know." "That's cheating! The Wolf Man has a thing against us!" "I'll pound that Wolf Man, then you'll see!" Tim flexed his arm muscles dramatically. Kali stroked one of his biceps. "You know, if you really wanted to be my new favourites, you could use those strong muscles of yours…" She pulled a flyer out of her back pocket and pressed it against his chest. "At the football team's Bake Sale on Saturday, to help us put the tents and tables up." Tim and Travis fist-bumped. "Yeah!" "I'll see you there then," she smiled, watching them walk off with renewed bravado. "T'n'T rule!"

She opened her locker, looking over at Merton with a smirk. "How about you, will you be there on Saturday?" Merton slung his bag over his shoulder, feeling irritated. "The Gothic Fantasy Guild is hosting a table, so yeah. You don't have to flirt with me to get me to help." Kali was stunned into silence as he pushed past her. "Alright then."

Tommy breezed up to her a moment later, grabbing things from his own locker. "You ready to go?" She took a deep breath. "Yeah."

---

The next day, Kalida went around taking bake sale pre-orders from people, wearing very short shorts and Tommy's letterman jacket. Merton nodded toward Kalida, tapping Tommy on the shoulder. "Was that your idea too?" Tommy grinned, shaking his head. "No, Kali suggested pre-orders 'cause some people won't come to the field on Saturday for the sale. She also had the idea to put it in the paper and the church newsletter." Merton nodded, watching as three guys flirted with Kalida, handing her money as she wrote down their orders.

"You alright, man?" "Sorry, what?" "You're holding your locker so tight your fingers are going white...er." Merton let go, pulling his hand toward himself. "I'm fine." Tommy raised his brows but patted Merton on the shoulder. "Well, I gotta go. Talk to you later."

Kalida finished with the group she was talking to and made her way over to the lockers. Merton gestured at her clothes. "Quite the marketing technique." "It works." She shrugged and opened her locker, swapping books. "Aren't you worried that people will think you're kind of…" He hesitated. "Floozy?" Kali rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I only have to live on the hellmouth for like five months of my life." She shut her locker and raised a brow at him. "Tommy asked me to help him, and this is the best way to do it."

He crossed his arms and leaned against his closed locker, smirking. "Aren't you going to try to sell me something?" She chewed her lip, looking him over. "Hmm, no. I'm pretty sure you said something about not flirting with you to get what I want…?" His face fell. "Come on." "Bye Merton." She smirked and turned on her heel, then sashayed down the hall.

---

The next day at lunch, Tommy was explaining to Merton that he thought the guy at their movie rental store was a vampire. Merton rolled his eyes, and looked around the cafeteria.

"I never see him during the day-" "He works night shift." "He's always recommending horror movies-" "Works at a movie rental place." "He's super pale-"

"Is Kalida in your uniform?" Merton squinted at where Kalida was chatting up the basketball team, DAWKINS and the number 13 emblazoned over her back. "Last year's, yeah. She turned it into a dress. Cool, right?" It was tight and short, and the basketball players were eating it up. "Yeah, cool."

Tommy resumed his dissertation about the movie rental clerk until Kalida hopped up to sit on their table. She posed toward Merton, holding a clipboard. "Dingle." Merton sat up straight. "Dawkins?" "I was thinking, since you called me a floozy yesterday, that you should really order something to make it up to me." "You called her what?" Tommy interjected, looking around Kalida at Merton with his hands up.

Merton pointed at Kalida and winced, struggling to reply. "Wh- I- Technically I didn't actually call you a floozy." She tapped his forehead with her pen and put on a fake voice. "Yes, you're right Kalida, I shouldn't be so rude to you. Of course I will buy your baked goods." She held a hand to her chest. "Why that's so nice of you, Merton. What kind of baked goods would you like to order?" She passed him the clipboard.

He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt, but took the sheet from her and looked it over. He signed up for a dozen sugar cookies and passed it back to her. "Thanks. Don't forget to pay me or Tommy by Friday." She blew him a kiss and hopped back off the table, approaching a group of girls in the food line.

Tommy snickered as he ate his chicken. "Hilarious." Merton threw a crouton at him.

---

Thursday night, Kalida spent hours in the kitchen with Tommy, baking cookies and preparing dough for the next day. On Friday night, the kitchen and dining area were completely overtaken by cookie-prepping stations and a dozen girls who had agreed to help out once they realized they'd be at Tommy Dawkins's house. It was an exhausting flurry of activity until they wrapped up the last batch close to midnight.

Tommy wiped his brow, closing the door behind the last of their guests. "Well that was intense." Kalida offered him a tired smile. "But we're done." She yawned. "At least for tonight. Gotta be up early to set up." She made a show of slowly punching his shoulder. "I'll make the coffee in the morning." She stretched her sore shoulders. "I think you owe me more than a coffee." He tapped his chin, narrowing his eyes. "Drive-thru breakfast?" "Like a real American."

---

When Merton pulled up to the school, he was surprised to see that all the tables and tents for the sale had already been set up. A swarm of cheerleaders and other girls were vying for space at the three tables being manned by the football team, and Kalida was helping Brett and two other council members set up their display.

"Merton!" Tommy called out waving him over, then pointed at the only empty booth. "Your table is that one there." Merton nodded, but didn't bother approaching the gaggle of girls he knew had no interest in joining him. He set to work unpacking the brownies and peanut brittle his mother had helped him bake the night before.

A redheaded freshman placed a long tray of cupcakes down on the end of his table. "Good morning!" Merton offered her a lopsided grin. "Morning Margaret. Thanks for coming to help." He finished arranging his goods and settled into his seat behind the table. "As usual you're the only guild member who bothered to show." She perched on the edge of her seat. "I have nothing but complete devotion." "Er, right."

"Special delivery!" Merton looked over to see that Kalida had brought over a black cookie tin. A piece of masking tape had been stuck over the top, Merton's name written with Sharpie. "Oh, right." He took the tin and opened it up, grinning widely at the contents. The sugar cookies had been cut into various themed shapes including bats and coffins, frosted accordingly. "Wow. Thank you." "I made yours special. Don't tell." She winked playfully.

Margaret made a huff sound. "You're that Dawkins girl, right?" Kali smiled brightly. "Kalida. Nice to meet you. Are you in the Gothic Fantasy Club?" "Gothic Fantasy Guild," she corrected, adjusting her glasses. "My name is Margaret. I'm Merton's assistant." Margaret stared down Kalida with a death stare. "Awesome. Thanks for helping out. I know the football team really appreciates everyone's support." Kalida glanced at Merton, feeling particularly unwelcomed by the younger girl. "Let me know if you need anything."

---

Ten minutes before the sale was set to start, people started piling into the parking lot, some to pick up their orders and others to have a look at what was available. Soon everyone was caught up in the scramble, trading baked goods for wads of cash. Merton looked up at one point and noticed that a couple near their booth was making out. He grimaced and looked away, only to see another pair farther away doing the same thing. "What the-" He saw a flash of gold fall down from the sky and hit an old woman, who immediately started groping at Tim Eckert. He followed the trajectory back up and gaped at the sight of a middle-aged man in a pink leotard. Large red wings flapped and kept the man airborne. "Creepy Cupid?" He held his hands up in disgust and confusion. Another arrow pierced through the tent and hit Margaret, who got up and started making out with a junior boy from the debate team. He looked over to see that most of the cheerleading and football team were making out with each other, and Kalida and Brett Johnson were locked in a tight embrace.

He ducked under the table and tried to think of a way to knock the winged man out of the air. Tommy ran up and joined him, wolfed out. "Merton! What happened? I went to the bathroom and came back to… this!" He peered out from under the tablecloth, pulling a face at the many unpleasant displays before him. "I think to stop Cupid you're supposed to take his bow or quiver." "The arrow can?" "Yeah, Tommy, the quiver. But he's in the air." "So let's get him down." "Any ideas?"

"Yeah." Tommy grinned and hopped out from under the table, grabbing a couple of Margaret's cupcakes. "Hey, Stupid Cupid!" "Ooh, a werewolf." Cupid pulled another arrow back. "Stay still, doggy!" Tommy whooped a cupcake at Cupid, nailing him in the face between the eyes.

Cupid's arrow loosed and landed a few feet away from Tommy. He threw another cupcake while Cupid wiped frosting from his eyes, this time aiming for his wing. A few more connected shots was all it took to get Cupid to land behind the bake sale booth. Tommy pulled the quiver from Cupid's back, smashing it on the asphalt. "What's the big idea?" Cupid picked an arrow off the ground and shot it at Tommy, who barely dodged. "Okay, so not the quiver!" Tommy lunged and wrestled Cupid. The two struggled until finally Cupid had Tommy pinned beneath him, holding the bow to his neck, strangling him. "Night night, doggy." He was hit in the side of the face by another stray cupcake.

"Pick on someone your own size!" Merton yelled. Cupid looked over at him with confusion. "What does that mean?" Tommy used the distraction to pull the bow from Cupid's hands and smack him across the head with it, knocking him out. Tommy scrambled up and broke the bow against his knee. Cupid poofed into a pile of red heart-shaped confetti.

Tommy ran off toward the school to calm down and change back before anyone noticed him wolfed out. Merton took a deep breath, trying to ground himself as he noticed the would-be couples slowly pulling away from each other in confusion.

He pushed through the crowd toward the Student Council table and approached Kalida, who was sharing a confused look with Brett. "Hey, Kalida, could you come here a sec?" She nodded slowly and followed him back to the Gothic Fantasy Guild table. "What did you need?" "Just some help at our table." He motioned to Margaret, who was off exchanging numbers with the Junior boy. "Oh, sure."

She looked around to see that people were buying cookies again. An older man approached and she sold him a package of Merton's brownies. "Did something happen?" She rubbed her head, feeling like she'd forgotten something important. "Yeah…" Merton fidgeted and helped an old lady, who told him he should get some sun. "You guys took care of it?" Kalida counted change. "Yeah, I'll tell you about it later. But everything should be fine now."

---

Monday at lunch, Merton pulled a coffin cookie out of his cookie tin, then put it back in his locker. Kalida was chatting away to him about how well the bake sale did as she arranged her textbooks. "They have more than they were trying to raise now, so they're going to give the leftovers to the cheerleading team." "That's great." He shut his locker and leaned back against it as he watched her gush. "Tommy said they've never had such a turnout before." "It's hard to believe none of you remember what happened." Kalida grimaced, glancing over at Merton. "It's kind of creepy."

Merton straightened up, looking past her. She turned around as Brett approached her. "Oh, um, hi Brett." "Hello Kalida. I wanted to… that is… about Saturday…" "Oh," Kali lifted her arms up, wincing. "You don't have to-" "I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression-" "No, really, I-" "I think it's best if we're just friends." "Yeah, I agree." "Okay." Brett put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, giving her a sympathetic smile. "As long as we're on the same page." "Yep." Merton watched as Brett walked away, secretly relieved that he had rejected Kalida.

Kalida waited until Brett was around the corner before she let out a loud snort, covering her face. "As if I was ever interested in him." "You weren't?" She lowered her hands and shook her head. "Nope. Not my type." She shut her locker and adjuster her book bag. "So… what is your type?" "Well…" She chewed her lip. "Actually-"

Tommy wrapped an arm around her, then Merton, leading them to the cafeteria at his sides. "Come on, I'm starving! You still have any of those cookies?"

---

Chapter 6 here.

Chapters: 1&2, 3&4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

#bwoc #big wolf on campus #merton dingle #tommy dawkins #merton x oc #wow I wrote this so long ago

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loserswin2 · 3 years

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A Matter of Timing (Jerza)

Read on FF or AO3

Erza felt that Jellal had the uncanny ability to always reach her side just in time. So the fact that now of all times is when he decides to be late is quite amusing to her. Or the fic where Jellal is late to witness the birth of not one but two of his children.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? Today’s been very tiring for you.” Makarov made a motion for Erza to lean back onto the bed. She complied with his request but her eyes did not stray from the tiny bassinet near the bed.

“Did Warren manage to reach him?” She reached out to drag the bassinet as close as possible to the bed and she relaxed when her two sleeping babies entered her line of sight.

“Yes. Jellal is trying to get back as fast as possible. It doesn’t help that the client is being difficult.” Makarov gave an angry huff. “Mirajane is asking other guilds if they’ve worked with the client before filling out a letter of complaint to send to the Council. The client’s request was out of line and should have never been given to the guild.” What had been a simple escort mission that should have finished in two days had turned into a complicated mess. She didn’t know all the details and all she really cared about was that it had taken her husband away from her when she needed him most.

Erza bit her lip. It wasn’t entirely the client’s fault. Jellal had been reluctant to leave her side, especially this late in her pregnancy, and was initially going to refuse the request but she had insisted he take it. It was rare for clients to request Jellal’s aid as there were still some people who weren’t convinced he had earned his pardon. After several assurances that she would be fine as members of the guild would be on hand to check on her and that there wasn’t much to worry about as her due date was a month away, he left for his mission.

She knew something was wrong when he didn’t call home to check in. He always checked in, even if a mission was only going to take a day to complete. She felt he did that to remind himself that he had her to come home to now and that the life they’ve built together is not a dream but a reality.

Makarov had sent Meredy, Erik, and Sawyer to go to the town the mission was located in and everyone was unsettled when they were able to send a quick report back that the town was surrounded by a barrier that blocked people from entering and from communicating with those outside the town. They were positive Jellal was inside though as Erik had been partially able to hear Jellal’s thoughts. It had been a week since that report and the unease in Erza’s gut hadn’t settled.

It wasn’t uncommon for missions to run into complications and to take longer than usual but ever since Erza and Jellal had gotten together, they rarely, if ever, took long missions. Erza hadn’t ever thought of herself as a clingy person before but the fear that the universe would find a way to tear them apart again had her seeking shorter missions so she could quickly return to his side. She knew he felt the same and that the fear would never go away.

A whimper from the bassinet broke her out of her thoughts. She looked over to see one of the babies with a disgruntled look on his face which quickly went away when she reached out a hand to stroke his face to calm him. She softly smiled when the baby quieted down and turned to face his brother. She hadn’t had the time to process the shock of twins as her mind had been completely distracted by the pain of labor.

“I have to say, Erza,” Makarov’s voice was hushed but filled with warmth, “You and Jellal have made some adorable children.” He peered closer into the bassinet and said with a laugh, “Even if they did come rather early.”

She blushed. She knew he was referring to the fact that twins were born earlier than singletons but a part of her knew that he and the rest of the guild still made jokes about how quickly Erza had gotten pregnant. She and Jellal quietly married soon after her team had finished the 100-year quest and settled into a modest house on the outskirts of Magnolia. A few weeks later, they had found out that Erza was pregnant after she uncharacteristically burst into tears in the guildhall after Natsu had made a remark on her strange new eating habits. After seeing Porlyusica and breaking the news to the guild, everyone made sly remarks about now knowing why the two of them were never at the guildhall anymore but it didn’t distract from the sheer joy Jellal and Erza radiated at the prospect of starting a family.

“I’ll go inform the rest of the guild that we now have two new Fairy Tail members.” Makarov began making his way to the door. Only he, Wendy, and Porlyusica had been in the infirmary with her and she had refused to allow anyone else to see her children before Jellal did. She was surprised that none of the members had tried to force their way inside and figured that they were all behaving for once. Though it could also be that they were still terrified of an Erza ruled by pregnancy hormones. “Warren might have some more news on where your husband is.”

“Thank you, Master.” Erza gave a small bow before sitting back on the bed. Wendy had healed her earlier but she was still absolutely exhausted.

“Please get some rest, Erza. You know Jellal always finds his way back to you,” Makarov said before leaving. Though Makarov had tried to reassure her, Erza’s worry would only disappear once Jellal was by her side. The silence in the room only served to remind her that he wasn’t.

She turned to the bassinet and remembered what had transpired only a few hours ago. She’d endured many painful experiences in her lifetime but nothing could have prepared her for the pain of childbirth. It had felt worse with Jellal’s absence though her tears of pain had turned to tears of joy once her children were placed in her arms. Their hair shared the same shade of blue as Jellal and when they had briefly opened their eyes earlier, she saw they had her brown eyes. After briefly being looked over by Wendy and Porlyusica and declared perfectly healthy, they slept peacefully in the bassinet and hadn’t woken up since.

“Your father is running a bit late,” she whispered to the twins. “He’s usually not like this. He’s much more punctual than I am.” If Erza was to compare all her failures, she knew a majority of them were caused by her tardiness.

She had been too late to save Jellal from being brainwashed.

She had been too late in figuring that Siegrain and Jellal were the same.

She had been too late to stop Jellal from casting the self-destruction spell.

If she had been on time, maybe she could’ve spared them all the heartache. Whereas, Jellal’s timing, in her opinion, was much better.

He had arrived on time to save her from the dragons during the Eclipse Gate fiasco.

He had arrived on time to help liberate Hargeon Port from the Alverez forces.

He had arrived on time to save her and Wendy from Acnologia’s attack.

She knew if she were to tell these thoughts to her husband, he would disagree and insist that in the end, all that mattered was that they saved each other. That their mismatch in timing wasn’t something she should be concerned with and if anything, it meant they balanced each other out. Having a confident Jellal that was so positive about their future together was something she was still getting used to and reminded her of their time at the Tower, back when he was a bright-eyed boy and she a lost and confused girl who looked to him for strength. They’ve grown and changed since then but they were still quintessentially them and she was infinitely grateful that they found their way back to each other.

“I guess it’s only fair that he’s late this time since I’m so early. He can’t always be perfect,” she amusedly remarked. She recalled the few times a drunk Lucy and Levy had told her how lucky she was for having such a perfect husband and had wisely refrained from telling them all the stupid things Jellal has done.

She was content to just stare at her children until he arrived and she perked up when she felt the trace of his Meteor spell outside the window. He must’ve sped past everyone in the guild because in the next moment he was opening the door.

“Erza.” His eyes quickly looked her over before they were glued to the bassinet in front of her. From where he was standing, she knew he couldn’t see the babies. She felt the uneasiness in her gut disappear as she scanned him from head to toe and saw that he was alright aside from the minor cut on his forehead.

“You’re here.” She wanted to get up and go to him but she didn’t have the energy. He seemed to read her mind as he went to go wash his hands in the sink near the door before quickly making his way toward her. When he was close to the bed, she rushed into his arms and he held her tightly.

“I’m sorry for taking so long.” She didn’t realize she was trembling until she registered his hand running up and down her back to soothe her. “Are you okay?”

She pulled herself together and nodded. “I am now.” She leaned back and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that she hoped would convey the sheer mess of emotions that rattled inside of her since his departure. She ended the kiss before it could get out of hand like it usually did when one of them came back from a mission and muttered, “You missed a lot. Come meet your children.”

“Wha--” She laughed at how speechless Jellal was at seeing not one, but two babies in the bassinet.

She reached out to take his hand and gently stroked his palm while she explained. “Wendy kept hearing echoes of a heartbeat but didn’t think that could mean I was having twins. She’s really sorry about making the mistake and offered to babysit them whenever we want. We should probably take her up on that offer sometime. I’ve been told that twins are a handful.”

He grabbed both of her hands and stared at her with tears streaming down his face. She would never get tired of being able to see the love that shone freely from his eyes. “Erza, I…thank you,” he choked out.

She felt herself tearing up as well. She murmured, “I should be saying that to you.” They stared at each other for a few moments longer, hearts full of gratitude and love. They had taken a long and painful road to get to where they were now but it was fine as it brought them here. “Do you want to hold them?” she asked, freeing a hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He nodded and she arranged his arms in the correct position to hold them.

Once she safely deposited both babies into his arms, he whispered, “They’re so small.”

She rearranged the babies’ blankets, making sure they were covered and warm, and said, “Porlyusica said they’re the right size for twins and for being born early. They’re healthy as well so there’s nothing to worry about there. And it’s a good thing we couldn’t decide between those two boy names because now we can use both.”

He chuckled, probably remembering when she would spend a whole day declaring one name to be perfect for their child before deciding the next day that the other name was the better choice. “I do love that they have my hair color but I kind of wish they had yours.”

“Maybe the next one will.” Though Erza had grown up with the guild and Jellal had grown up with the people at the Tower, they had still largely kept to themselves and basically grew up alone. They decided they wanted a large family and that their children would never know what it was like to be alone and unloved.

“I’m still sorry I was late and missed everything. I promised to hold your hand forever at our wedding, remember?”

“I think I would’ve broken your hand. Labor was awful.”

“It would have been worth it.”

She hummed in agreement and looked down at the babies who had begun to squirm in Jellal’s hold. “Besides, you weren’t late at all.”

He gasped as the twins both opened their eyes to see their father for the first time.

“I think our sons will agree with me and say you came back like you always do, right on time.”

#jerza #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #fanfic #fairy tail #i'm baaaaaaaaak #it's been a long time since I've written something for fun and not for work #I had planned to write this in time for Jerza Day but work was chaotic and all I could do was daydream about the fic and not write it #but god I miss these two so much and they own my life so hard

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Text

Masterlist

This will serve as a personal tracker of all of the fics I have ever written, all of the books and series I have consumed etc. I wrote this out to help me organize my thoughts since I have time now to reflect on this closet hobby of mine. I also put it up just in case anyone has ever read my stuff and is curious about how these works are doing in my head space.

Some were written back when I was way younger so apologies for the quality.

ALEX RIDER

Come Home (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Memories don't keep people grounded in their present. They're the reason people think of what ifs and would haves, regrets and daydreams. Alex sees three dimensions of his reality and makes a decision. Set after Never Say Die.

Status: Done (I guess?), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Killing (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Spoilers for Never Say Die. Killing is like learning to ride a bike as Alex is going to figure out very soon. For Spyfest 2017.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Transparency (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Although the bank robbery made national news, the young boy who saved the lives of all the people in the bank didn't. First hand witness accounts said the boy was a hero, the media said there was no young hero in the bank and one journalist tries to get to the bottom of it all.

Status:WIP (could probably still finish it, it’s almost done anyway), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet)

Type II Error (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for Spyfest Week 3. Set before Ark Angel. The updates on payroll accounts and budgets lined up too well with mysterious deaths and undisclosed missions. An auditor working for MI6 decides for herself whether or not the orders of her bosses Blunt and Jones were worth prying into.

Status: Done (Oneshot), will post on tumblr yet

Unforeseen Circumstances (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It's April, the time of year when most students start salvaging their grades. Missions had taken their toll on Alex's grades and he needs to start salvaging soon or risk repeating the year. Nature wasn't on his side though and it turned out that his devil's luck had just run out.

Status: WIP (8/15), On hold, not posted on tumblr yet

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi and Hange’s Relationship in Erwin’s POV (Status: Completed, not posted yet)

A Tale of Two Slaves (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Status: WIP (6/?)

A Free Spot (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later. Written for Levihan Angstober Week 4. Prompt: Free Spot

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Division of Labor (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly..."

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Status: WIP (1/?)

En Prise (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Status: WIP (1/18), will try to create a backlog before I post more.

Heroes or Victims (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post Chapter 115, Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Household Planning (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Status: Done (2/2)

Passion Project (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Status: WIP (1/3) Timeline written, Chapter 2 rough draft complete, not posted on FFN yet

Rough Day (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It should have been apparent to Hange by the weight gain and the sudden lack of red days. Somehow, Levi noticed it first.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Sugar Rush

(AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest one year late.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Would You Cry? (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams

Status: Done (Oneshot)

Vulnerabilities (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Although Levi is humanity's strongest soldier in the battlefield, his rough childhood had left him weaker and more vulnerable to illness. Levi had always taken measures to prevent sickness nit anyone who has ever been close to him caught wind on it anyway. A series of oneshots throughout the story focusing on Levi's chronic weakness and others taking care of him.

Status: Sporadic updates depending on mood, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Big Hero Six

Deal with the Devil (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

When mourning becomes too much for him, Hiro finds himself resorting to prayers and deals to bring back the brother he lost. The devil may have had pity on him but he never promised to let Hiro go unscathed.

Status: WIP, on hold, probably could get back to it just need to rewatch the movie, not yet completely posted on AO3 and tumblr

Fatal Flaw (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Grieving may be a long and painful process but in time most people do recover. For Hiro Hamada though something probably went wrong along the way because from what Aunt Cass could see, he was moving on yet at the same time, he wasn't.

Status: WIP, abandoned, completely forgot what I was planning, not yet posted on tumblr

Coco

Dares, Pranks and Curses (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange. The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Somewhere between Life and Death (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Dia de los Muertos isn't the only day the dead can visit the living. Miguel is reunited with Hector, Imelda and his other relatives from the other side but in one of the worst ways possible and he finds himself caught in a struggle between life and death.

Status: WIP 9/20, on hold, timeline is complete just need to get it written, need to fix tumblr tags

Crossovers

Quest for Origin: Ranger’s Apprentice x Percy Jackson (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

A young boy gets washed up on the shore of Camp Half Blood with no memories whatsoever of his life before. How did he end up there? Is it all just a coincidence? Or is it a message from the Gods? What's with his uncanny skill with the bow?

Status: On Hold (25/35), timeline complete, will probably continue with PJO TV show comes out, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Kingdom Hearts

Coded Connection (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post KH3. If Kairi keeps Sora's memory alive, he'll eventually call out to her right? Then it will be her turn to find him, hold him and never let go.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr and ff

Kuroko no Basuke

Yellow, Red, Green, Blue and Purple (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Collab with friend back in high school. All Kise wanted to do was complete one more level of Flow Free before practice starts. When you have teammates as lazy, eccentric, hyperactive, sociopathic or invisible as the Generation of Miracles though, sometimes the things that sound the simplest, can be the hardest to do. Crackfic

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr

Ranger’s Apprentice

Being a Ranger’s Wife (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

As Will leaves on a suicide mission, Alyss ponders on her choice to have married him.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Danger Zone (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Rangers are human. Humans make mistakes. The difference though between an ordinary human and a ranger is the consequences they'll eventually face for past mistakes. Will should have known that for rangers, this included being on the run from an angry group of pirates with his silver oakleaf on the line.

Status: Probably Abandoned, first fanfic I have ever written lmao, completely forgot where I was going with this, not yet posted on tumblr or ffn.

Farmer’s Apprentice (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Masters, Apprentices and Sons (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Gilan accepts Morgarath's challenge in the Plains of Uthal and Halt is left to care for his apprentice in the aftermath of the battle. Halt wonders why it took him this long to realize that there was no fine line between an apprentice and a son.

Status: WIP. I have written out all the way until chapter 5 but I completely lost the files. I don’t know if my current frustration will allow me to continue this.

The Fall of a Hero (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will had fallen from his place as one of the top rangers in the corps and one of the top figures in Araluen and it's up to his friends to help pull him back up. Recovery Fic.

Status: WIP, timeline not written, could probably still continue this, just need to catch up to the series

Prince of Tennis

A Break from Ingenuity (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Timing is everything. Fuji gets his timing wrong, makes one misstep then finds himself facing a career ending injury. Maybe, that's when everyone will realize that he's human too.

Status: WIP. Will probs continue if new POT content comes out.

Yuri on Ice

Surprises (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

With all the stress piling up for the Japanese National Championship and more importantly, the World Championship, one can expect an athlete to get injured. To have the coach be the one struck by a career ending injury during practice is another story. That's exactly how Victor surprised the crowd though, maybe for the last time.

Status: WIP (3/?), not yet posted on tumblr

#Yuri on ice #Prince of Tennis #ranger's apprentice #kuroko no basket #kingdom hearts #percy jackson #coco #big hero six #attack on titan #Alex Rider #fanfic #masterlist

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rosaline-kei · 4 years

Note

If it's ok may i request a yandere!armin x mikasa fanfic set in the aot world? If that's comfortable for you of course.. I loved your fanfic, Bared and I am in desperate need of some arumika content.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan nor its characters.

Title: Yandere

parts: 1/2

Synopsis: Unknown to everyone but his victims, there’s a side to Armin that he dedicates to protecting his beloved.

Rated: T / M (I’m not that sure; but it’s a fanfic about yandere so there’s that. Read it at your own risk. I might finalize the overall rating depending on the second part.)

Pairings: Armin Arlert / Mikasa Ackerman

Read it also on / Please Leave a Review at: my Ao3 / FF net (might post there soon.)

A/N: i’m chill with writing yandere stuff i guess? But remember guys, don’t be a yandere in real life lmao. I hope this was okay, considering i don’t really watch/play yandere animes/games?? I think?? Except for the classics y’know, like Mirai Nikki haha. That aside, thank you for enjoying Bare! (which y’all can read on my Ao3 lmao). Also, the time period / current time setting of this is messy but shhh.......

Control.

While many cadets would think otherwise, Armin had always struggled with control, sometimes even more than Eren.

Murderous urges never ceased to come creeping up his spine, crawling its way into his heart; strangling it and him entirely—pleading for him to let them go. To let loose whenever anyone goes a little too close to her; whenever anyone dares to invade her personal space, trespassing in his territory.

But Armin knew how to play his cards. Behind his innocent and naïve appearance, deep inside the insanity that dances around his heart like a frisky pup, he was an intelligent and strategic man, who knew how to play this game.

Killing Eren was never, could never be an option. Even if that reckless boy dragged Mikasa down into the turbulence that surrounded him, even if that dense idiot carelessly spat insensitive rubbish in Mikasa’s direction, even if one day he might finally become a sensible man, who was capable of loving her—he can’t kill him. And it was not just because they shared a history together, because they shared a bond.

It was because he knew Eren’s death would send Mikasa in a spiral down into the depths of hell or null. He had the horrid chance of witnessing it once; the impact of Eren’s death on Mikasa.

And it was because he loves Mikasa, he didn’t want her to suffer through that again, so he kept Eren and a few others that appeared to be close (but not that dangerously close) to Mikasa. He didn’t, and never wanted to see her hurt. Besides, he would often think, there are other fathomable and less bloody ways of making her mine, before anyone else.

For now, Armin wasn’t fixated in eliminating the ‘what if’ possibilities where Mikasa winded up with someone else that wasn’t him. For now, he chose to instead focus on his next step in this messed-up game. And for now, in this game, he decided to let them live.

Call him obsessive, but the blonde was lovesick.

Armin didn’t remember how his feelings escalated into this splendid travesty; how this wicked side of him woke. What he did remember was that one day, a day where Eren was absent, a day where it was just the two of them, a day where Armin really had the chance to admire and marvel in the Ackerman’s heavenly presence, did he start to fall.

“Armin…? Are you alright?” Mikasa asked softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You appeared… troubled earlier, was it because you saw him?” The concern emanating from her tone was enough to throw Armin’s senses off a cliff; and that was barely an exaggeration. Anything, and maybe everything that came out of her mouth was considered a melody to Armin.

Her.

Everything about her was a soothing melody. Her voice, her breath, her heartbeat. Even just her looks. That much was enough to compose a symphony in Armin’s head.

“No… it’s nothing.” Armin assured with a hum as he turned towards her direction, putting on the brightest smile he could manage in the dim-lit room that they were to rest in. For a motel in the underground, this far exceeded Armin’s expectation. Despite the poor lighting along with the peelings of decayed wallpaper hanging loose from the cracked, yellowed walls, Armin had honestly anticipated for the condition of this room to be much worse, with insects possibly crawling about, spiders readying to defend their territory or hunt.

Regardless, as long as Mikasa was comfortable, it was fine.

That aside, the last thing Armin had expected was to see that man who harassed him back then, when he was forced to doll up, dress up as Historia Reiss. Then again, the fact that the two of them were ordered to investigate these parts of the underground for clues regarding a separate issue (one that was fortunately not about Eren being kidnapped, again) was even more unexpected, bewildering even. The crippling world existing on the surface was chaos enough, and Armin would’ve had expected for Levi to keep them around in case that Ripper would show up since they were vital members of his squad. Or at least, not send two cadets on a mission alone, having to navigate the unfamiliar underground the first time by themselves, with a poorly drawn map that could’ve been mistaken with a child’s doodle. Then again, as much as he’d like to question his decision, he didn’t have an opportunity to. Who knows what was going behind the scenes? Armin couldn’t help but ponder.

On the bright side, he was alone with Mikasa.

On the darker side, however…

“If anything, I should be asking you that, Mikasa.” Armin remarked, his smile and other features morphing into something more worried. “You looked… uncomfortable, out there.” It took him every ounce of effort to not let his maliciousness seep through and poison his tone when he thought back to the stares Mikasa received—particularly by one herd of obnoxious barbarians that were bold and foolish enough to cackle out inappropriately snide remarks about her oriental features as they made their way towards the bar.

It made his blood boil.

“…I just don’t understand why people like them exist, that is all. I don’t have time to be concerned with people like them.” She said coldly; a tone and sentiment Armin hoped to never be on the receiving end of. What’d he ever do if Mikasa were to hate him? Or if Mikasa were to find out his… tendencies?

Armin didn’t plan to find out. He was a curious soul, but not that curious.

Slowly, Mikasa shifted herself slightly to the left side of the bed before patting the vacant right side. “Lay down… there’s room. Besides, that couch looks like it could be invested with termites.” She offered calmly, resisting a yawn.

“E-Eh?!” Armin stuttered, face flushed. He had been too busy… scheming, and had forgotten that there was a possibility of them having to share a bed.

It wasn’t the first time but… he wanted to feel her warmth, so badly, so desperately. He wanted to cling onto her, and never, never let her go. He wanted to be close to her, to be overwhelmed by her godly presence again and again. It would just be the two of them. No distractions, nothing.

Unfortunately, Armin had to reject, or rather postpone her offer, as reluctant as he was.

His hand stretched back, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I… would love to, but… I haven’t eaten any dinner yet since we left. I saw a store selling bread nearby, so I’ll head there for a bit.”

“What?” Mikasa’s eyes widened, shocked to hear that he was running on an empty stomach. “I’ll come w—”

“No, it’s fine!” Armin reassured. “You need to… rest. Please.” He didn’t want to trouble her.

Despite his plea for her to rest, she stood up in protest, stomping her way towards him. The fierceness in her eyes clearly made it evident to him that she was against the idea. Cute, he thought. He adored how dedicated and devoted she could be to the people she made room for in her heart, he greatly appreciated her concern, but…

“But it can be dangerous—”

“If I don’t come back within forty-five minutes… then come looking for me.” Armin smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s just a quick stop, and I’ll head back. I can handle my own.”

Mikasa looked at him, stared with him eyes brimming full of genuine worry, concern and conflict. It made Armin’s heart skip and flutter. That look served a reminder to Armin that she cared about him, so much.

After a long tangible silence that stood between them (that Armin didn’t break, couldn’t break. He was too hypnotized by her looks; by her), she finally resigned and with a sigh, “Fine.” She said.

Armin was perfectly capable of handling himself, she knew that. He wasn’t weak. Even if he didn’t excel in physical strength as much as she did, he made it up with his brains; his intelligence that always aid in his and their escape in whatever tricky predicaments.

“But… please,” She muttered, her hands reaching out to grab his free hand, holding them closely, tightly. “Don’t stay out too long… the later it gets, the more ruffians are out there.”

“U-Uhuh!” Armin nodded, savouring her touch, her warmth, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks and a mad rush of blood surging. It was thrilling, and an expression nearly slipped from his control.

Control Armin, control. He reminded himself. Now wasn’t the moment for Mikasa to witness how much she had an effect on him. He was practically wrapped around her finger, in some sense, and he didn’t mind. It was relieving, he was glad.

Perhaps if it wasn’t just the two of them, he would have more control about his expressions that had a possibility of exposing what he felt for her. He loved her, but at the same time, what he felt for her was more than that.

There was no going back, now.

Once Mikasa had let go, he left, knowing that there was no time to waste.

As he left, he felt a wave of ecstasy swinging within him as he relished the lingering warmth that Mikasa’s hand had imprinted on his. Ahhhh! The warmth is all the same… He thought, humming to himself as he skipped towards his destination. Her touch is all the same… ah… sometimes I just want it all to myself.

Upon arriving at his destination, his humming stopped, and what took over was a determined look mixed with some animosity. Taking a deep breath as he re-calculated his plans, he entered the bar with a thirst for vengeance.

#snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #arumika #Mikasa Ackerman #armin arlert #armin x mikasa #mikasa x armin #mikasa #armin #my fanfiction #my fanfic #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

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happyvoidharmony · 4 years

Text

Ashes

rating : M (smut) pairing : Miraxus (Laxus/Mirajane) found : AO3 FF

I don’t even know why I’m here

The air was still heavy. The pungent smell of the stirred ashes seemed frozen on the moment the dragon king collapsed in the center of the city. Mirajane took a deep breath, desperately trying to slow down her still beating heart. She grabbed the stack of papers laying on the new table and scrolled through them hoping to find the files Levy had filled out a few days earlier.

The recently reconstructed Hall was still infused with the scent of fresh paint and new wood. The white-haired woman finally took a file out, desiring to go back to the festivities that filled the guild and the city.

Suddenly, the door creaked, revealing a blond man with an imposing stature and a strange scar right through his right eye. The young woman froze as the lightning mage walked slowly into the room. He closed the door, leant against the wall and observed her without a word. She stayed still, not daring to move, as if frozen in stone by his arrival.

After what seemed like an eternity but was actually a few seconds, she finally shook her head, smiling in embarrassment, then turned abruptly to leave the place in the same spirit, but froze again when his eyes met the blonde’s sharp ones.

She wanted to utter a word, but the sounds stayed blocked inside her throat while drowning in his bright golden eyes.

“Hey.” She succeeded in a shaky voice.

She thought her heart was going to drop as she felt the blood rushing through her veins warming her cheeks and pounding inside her chest.

Suddenly, he took a big step towards her and grabbed her by the cheek before pressing his lips against hers as her back got pinned against the wall. She abandoned herself in this sudden embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck intertwining her fingers in his blond hair. He slid his hand over her waist and stroke her hip. The white-haired woman moaned slightly as she felt the mage's fingers touch the fabric that hid her burning skin from touching.

Feeling his hesitation, she tightened without thinking his embrace, pressing him a little more against her and moaned a little louder when he finally stroked lower before grabbing and lifting her to his height. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gently bit his lower lip, snatching a little frown from which she took advantage to deepen the kiss and softly tickle his tongue.

It didn’t take him any longer to stroke hers with a harshness difficult to control. A small playful smile outlined on the lips of the young woman who abandoned herself even more in his arms, kissing him with the same energy he showed to suddenly slow down and tease her lips.

Breathless, he pulled away from her as she fell to her feet and they stared at each other again, still confused by this abrupt contact. Shaking, Mirajane wanted to make a word but was cut off when Laxus leant over her ear and whispered:

“It’s been a while.”

Her eyes widened as she felt the hot breath of the dragon slayer on her neck and couldn't find the strength to utter a sound. He quickly grabbed her hand as she jumped from his touch and met his fiery gaze again without understanding his intentions. He released her immediately and strode out of the room, leaving the young woman alone and confused.

Still unsettled for a few minutes, she was called back by a funny feeling inside her fingers, where the lightning mage had grabbed her. She opened her hand and discovered a thin torn paper in which were eagerly scribbled a number and a street. The mage blushed when she understood the meaning. A few tears escaped her eyes when she slowly collapsed on the table and reread those letters without knowing if they should lead her steps.

***

The party went on for hours that night before Mirajane, Elfman and Lisanna decided to return to their old house, which they had managed to get back despite their year of absence. Strangely, the city was calm again, the party having finally gathered inside the guild. Mirajane followed her siblings slowly, smiling widely at each joke these two made.

“You just wanted to see Ever again!” Lisanna exclaimed, playful.

The young man gulped, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“That’s not true !”

The youngest burst out laughing when she saw her brother's reddening face and kept implying all kinds of relationships between him and the fairy mage under the amused eye of their elder sister.

She felt her heart racing up with each step that brought them closer to the home, unable to stop thinking of the blonde man and the memory of his lips onto hers. Suddenly she stopped walking, shaking, still struggling to make any choice. Lisanna turned to her with a worried face.

“Mira-nee, is everything all right ?”

The young woman strongly nodded and smiled gently at her younger sister.

“I just forgot something at the guild, I’ll be back !” "She finally blurted out, her heart pounding inside her chest. “Don't wait for me, I’ll be home soon !”

She seemed surprised.

“Can't you go for it tomorrow ?”

Mirajane bit her lip, quickly thinking of a way out.

“I forgot the keys to open the kitchens tomorrow and Kinana will surely lock them inside…”

Merely convinced, Lisanna wished her sister good night and went back to Elfman who was waiting for them a few steps ahead. The white-haired woman turned around, surprised by the ease with which the lies had come out of her mouth.

When they were out of sight, she turned sharply around the corner and went to the center of the town. After ten minutes of walking, she arrived in front of a large white building, went for the surprisingly unlocked door, and rushed up the stairs. She found the flat quite easily, her fingers found the iron handle and lowered it in a last breath.

The door was locked. Taken aback, she felt her heart miss a beat and tears climbed up to her eyes. She collapsed on the steps and restrained her sobs. What an idiot ! What was she hoping for ?

Suddenly, steps were heard down. She jumped and waited, frozen in fear while the instant came before her eyes. The blond man appeared, tall, with a nonchalant hand and bored look on his face. She stared at him as he laid eyes on her, curled up in the narrow staircase, eyes red and damp.

“I don't even know why I'm here…” She confessed, tears clutching to her throat.

He sighed and nodded, mostly resigned. He took out a bunch of keys and unlocked the door without saying a word or giving the young woman a single glance. He opened the door and nodded her to come in. She got up, tottering, and entered, afraid he might hear her heart trying to escape. He followed her and locked the door behind them while she inspected the new apartment.

It looked large and bright, visibly more spacious than his former one, but still empty. Mirajane hesitantly walked over to the large window that filled a wall. Before it laid heaped bags of all kinds and a spread out large white futon. The immaculate turned around and met the eyes of the blond who had been staring at her for a while now. The demonic mage, still undecided, watched the young man without a word, fearing to break the weird tension in which they seemed immersed.

She wanted to come closer, slide her fingers through his golden hair and caress his lips with hers. However her tears didn’t seem willing to stop as she considered it. He remained still, leaning against the opposite wall, as if deep in thought. The young woman felt her lower abdomen twist terribly and stress his her stomach.

He had changed slightly but surely. He seemed calmer, more peaceful. Did she really have the right to ruin it ? She had spent the past year trying to get over from whatever they had, did she really want to get it back ? Wasn’t it just a whim to suffer and make people suffer to save some pieces ? Tears started to roll down her cheeks. The blond sighed, looked away and uttered with disgust for his words:

“Mira, if you want to go, I won’t hold you back.”

She immediately looked up. Go ? It was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to kiss him, hold him, feel his fingers slide over her shivering flesh, feel his weight on her breasts, his hands ignite every inch of her skin and grip her hair in a one last breath. She wanted to feel it entirely and get lost in his embrace until she forgot about the world, her fingertips and her own name.

“Mira ?” He called, a bit worried by her silence.

The young woman suddenly swallowed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around his neck and suddenly pulled him to press her lips against his. He grabbed her and lifted her with ease. His tongue caressed hers as an almost inaudible moan or two escaped to the touch of his hands. He took less than three steps before laying her on the white sheet without detaching himself from her and slipped his left hand under the thick fabric of her dress to caress her boiling flesh, taking another sweet complaint from her. With the other one, he stealthily removed the band that held her bangs resting now on her forehead.

The white woman's hands left his hair to slip under the mage's shirt and outlined his chest with all the delicacy she was capable of. He deepened the kiss and tightened his grip even more, making her shiver in her excitement. She withdrew her hands and began to unbutton the cloth. She undid the first button and felt the young man's grip firm again on his skin.

She grabbed the second but was cut off by a moan that involuntarily escaped her mouth when he left her lips to attack the white skin of her neck. He went down, up and attacked the flesh, sucking it, biting and licking with a mixture of aggressiveness and sweetness. She finally beat the second button and defeated the third in stride. However, she jumped when she felt the blonde's fangs sinking slightly into her skin without piercing her.

She was quickly called to order when he slid a finger against this sensitive part of her still covered by the fine fabric of her underwear. She let out another complaint of pleasure and frustration and felt him appreciate the sound of her moans in a teasing smile as he stroked her slowly, enjoying her squirm and make every effort in the world to focus on the fourth button .

He suddenly stopped, withdrew his hand and without hesitation tugged off the ribbon of her black dress, easily untying the fabric which still remained in place. He kissed her deeply, and drew her to him at the same time as he straightened up and passed the garment over her shoulders before hurriedly tossing it aside. The woman took advantage of this short time to quickly unbutton the last buttons with dexterity before he pressed against her again.

She chuckled as he saw him swear and straighten up on his knees to get rid of the now open shirt and throw it across the room. He returned to her lips as she grabbed his forcefully. He gave her an amused half-smile and pressed himself a little more against her before attacking her neck again. She gave him a small growl of satisfaction and tensed as his lips slid over the outline of her breasts. He suddenly grabbed the flesh without leaving her lips or ending his treatment.

The mage quivered more and more under the burning and fierce lips of the blonde and let out many other sounds without being able to hold them back. She arched her back in a moan, allowing the mage's hand to squeeze under the tissue covering her chest and naturally loosen it. She tore it off and threw it behind her like a useless rag, then dominantly kissed him, engaging in a fierce battle between their tongues which stroked and intertwined in search of exquisite domination.

They pulled away, gasping, exchanging a burning look. The blonde rested a snarling kiss on the lips of the young woman and attacked her chest and her neck already reddened by the previous attacks. He sucked on the flesh and slid his teeth while continuing to squeeze her on the other side and playing with the hard pinkish nipple while he sucked on its twin. The mage wiggled involuntarily and her bright pink mouth let out a soft rattle in a breath of contentment.

She pressed her lower abdomen against the young man’s and felt his rising excitement against her, blushing and letting a smile at the sensation. Laxus finally looked up and kissed her again without losing the aggressiveness with which he covered her. The demonic mage suddenly regained possession of her hands and caressed his back ardently before sliding one in his black trousers and grabbing some of the flesh available. His excitement grew even more as she caressed him warmly. The blond smiled on her lips.

“Easy, Mira.” He whispered with a smirk, causing an explosion of butterflies in her lower stomach who then uttered a small plaintive uncontrollable cry.

She met his golden eyes as hers seemed to consume him with desire. She smiled cheekily and tightened her grip before grabbing his lips again, slipping her tongue playfully. The blonde abruptly raised his abdomen and let the woman open the silver belt with ease, he quickly got rid of the unwanted clothes and pressed again against her.

She had a long shudder as her intimacy rubbed against his swollen one and kissed him voraciously, feeling the distinctive tingling of his electric magic on every inch of her skin. He attacked her neck greedily again, then her breasts, already marked by his lips, and passed over her flat stomach covered with white skin.

He slid his hand under the last remaining white fabric and grabbed her curves once more before grasping it. He straightened up, the young woman tightened her legs and let him slide the underwear along them with controlled slowness and toss it alongside her dress. He looked at her again, fiery gaze, feeling his desire grow even more as he watched her.

A few words could describe the beauty he was facing now. The white-haired woman stared at him with her blue orbs which seemed to boil of liquid sensuality. The moonlight delicately brushed her light skin probably making it itself jealous. Her long, curly white hair was graciously spread out against the white sheets and her bangs, a few strands of which had remained stuck to her forehead, hid the top of her large eyes which shone above all with casualness and mischievousness to damn the saints.

She bit her lip, not knowing if she should be flattered or embarrassed by the feverish look of the blond on her. Suddenly, he grabbed her lips, devouring them. He replaced himself between her legs while stroking her with all the force he had. The young woman moaned loudly and responded to the embrace with the same energy, feeling her whole body burn up with his touch. He left her lips and began to kiss her right thigh, which he gradually climbed up, teething particularly the white mark that rested there.

He went up even more, enjoying lingering on the points he knew the most sensitive, feeling her tensing terribly as he caressed them with his tongue and holding back somehow the sounds that escaped from her lips. Hesitant to make her beg, the mage continued to kiss her skin and froze when he heard her moan his name softly, ending any ambition he might have had.

He leaned over her intimacy, already very damp, and kissed it with the same ferocity. He felt it suddenly tighten then immediately relax in small moans. She tangled her hand in his golden strands as he slid his tongue over her, snatching sighs of delight. He grabbed her thighs to keep her from overly moving and continued his treatment. She groaned more beautifully, trying hard to control the movements of her lower abdomen invaded by extreme heat.

He replaced his tongue with his thumb and continued to stimulate the white, hearing her sigh louder and louder and feeling her getting tensed as he went on. She let out a little cry when he caressed her again. She moaned, contracted, gripped his locks more and traced the movements of his tongue forbidding him to stop, desperate to have every single crumb of the pleasure that took her.

He tightened his grip on her cheeks in order to be not overwhelmed by her increasingly broad movements, while the mage wriggled elegantly, letting out exquisite complaints that he drank in long strokes. She straightened on one elbow to gaze at him at work. The heat was soft on her membranes but agitated the most sensitive part with amusement, tearing off increasingly long and uncontrolled sounds that she was trying to regulate by piercing her inner lip in an adorable guilty smile.

Sensing that her end was near, Laxus grabbed her and immobilized her. She cried out letting the pleasure go up to completely wrap her in a long wave that made her whole body shake. The heat suddenly invaded her and she dropped down, smiling and trembling.

Still crossed by sweet spasms, the white-haired woman moaned with satisfaction and kissed the lighting mage with hunger who returned to her level with a sigh of contentment. She smiled, cheeks red and still sweaty from her orgasm and kissed him more softly, enjoying the softness of his lips as he still stroke her with his thumb and made the most of her last jolts. She slid her hand back into his underwear again and grabbed a new part of him, getting mad at the fabric that was hopelessly blocking her way.

He moved away gently, visibly amused by the desire that shone in her eyes, and while madly kissing her, he removed his last cloth with her help and a calculated slowness before she sent him to join his colleagues while holding forcefully the blonde, enveloped in his warmth and the smell of stirring tobacco.

He returned it very generously with hot strokes, following her rhythm on his privacy and letting the barrier of his teeth pass through a few soft grunts of comfort. The white stopped when he let out her name, her full name, and looked at him, contemplating the envy in his eyed that echoed hers. She had almost forgotten the sensation of her name on her ears and the shivers that went with as it crossed his lips.

He leaned down again to kiss her, she replied fervently, getting lost in the warmth of his lips. Suddenly, to her surprise, she straightened up, looking panicked. He stared at his blue orbs where a sudden new concern was shining.

“Are you okay ?” He asked, but didn't let go of her.

She nodded quickly and looked down, letting out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Do you have anything ?” She inquired abruptly with a small blushing smile.

The lightning mage raised an eyebrow, his mind still clouded by the warmth of the young woman's hand on his flesh. Finally, he understood. He also straightened up at a brisk pace and quickly grabbed a bag laying a few steps away. He searched and pulled out some condoms. The young woman smiled, visibly reassured, and limped back on her back, welcoming him naturally as he slipped between his thighs.

She placed her lips gently on his and replied warmly as he kissed her again and hugged her furiously, his legs intertwined with hers. He went down again to her neck, then her breasts and lingered once more on the pink ends, she moaned delicately, begging and demanding at the same time. He kissed her ardently and enjoyed her sweet complaint as he progressed through her.

The white moaned louder under his slow assassin movements and the onslaught of pleasure he gave her, feeling stretched at capacity and begging him to continue with furious agitations. The young man grabbed her and leaned on his elbow to keep up with the pace she imposed on him, drinking each of her complaints like clear water. The heat and contractions of her privacy drove him crazy, as well as her hips, thighs, buttocks, waist, naked breasts and white skin.

Each intrusion of the blonde was a torture, slow, measured, sometimes more frantic, but above all intoxicating. Each caress he gave her was one more match thrown at the lava that had become her flesh. Each cry she pushed was a caress on his ears that she could no longer hear, gripping each piece of flesh she found to resist the gentle torture but only feeling the force more beautiful, who tormented her without remorse, through the recurrent contractions of the blonde’s muscles.

She tensed suddenly, feeling the heat violently invade her. Her moans became louder and louder and more irregular and feverish. She caressed his back she knew was streaked with almost invisible scars and hung on before twisting against the young man's warm chest, perfectly outlined, under his tumultuous assaults. She didn’t even have time to warn him before letting out a last beating lament in a final shock of pleasure that precipitated a long furious tremor along her limbs.

She fell back against the white mattress and smiled warmly before kissing the lips he offered her with fever. His breathing was strong, clocked, like his own. She met his gaze, still filled with fiery intentions and just waiting for her signal to implement them. She smiled again, looking more playful and waited for him to frown before flipping him to the side and getting over him.

He had a grumpy grunt and an offended look but was silent as soon as the young woman kissed him furiously to bring him back to her level. He grabbed her, taking a slight moan from her as she began to wave slowly over him. She slipped her fingers through his golden locks that she was careful not to grip too tightly, or at least not with the same force he grabbed her hips and breasts.

Her movements were fast and resounded with impetuosity in her flesh, along her insolent rolls. It didn't take long for the blonde to join the rhythm, caressing her back before grabbing a breast which he hungrily explored with his tongue, snatching a very audible sigh from the mage, no longer even trying to hold them back.

She went faster, quickly followed by the lightning mage who now grunted distinctly guilty sighs covered by the white woman's inopportune moans as the heat and pleasure rushed up in her. She could no longer hold back her messy movements and waved more beautifully as the blonde touched the perfect point of her wet intimacy.

She moaned, cried out, and sped up again, while trying to keep some sort of control over her body, which was shaking on all sides under the heat waves that were reaching it. The young man, his head buried in her white neck, kissing the flesh with fury, breathed loudly and felt the end coming. Just hoping it would come after hers.

Fortunately, the demonic mage let out a long groan, shaken by a new attack of hot spasms that numbed her mind, to the point that she barely heard her cries and the blonde's relief. Lost in his warmth, she held him, determined never to let go, while her body trembled and moaned against him. When she realized he was done too, she pulled away slightly, sweating visibly, and stared at him.

He plunged his golden eyes into her sapphires and bridged the distance between them to come and capture her lips between his. His tongue gently caressed her twin, leaving the mark of her soft warmth that made the white shiver. She deepened the kiss, eagerly loving his fever as he lied down against the thin mattress.

With one last breath, she tore herself away from his embrace to settle against his side, unable to take her eyes off his exhausted features. The young woman touched his tight skin, still lively and damp, and was cut by a faint grunt, accompanied by a squeaky smile and two piercing eyes.

“Easy demon...” he began with a playful grin, while releasing his arm which had enveloped her. “I'm not done with you yet...”

She giggled and felt her cheeks turn pink as she straightened up to let the blond some cigarettes from a close bag.

He laid down again with a sigh of relief before grabbing one and placing it between his lips, visibly reddened by the previous attacks. He lit it with a lighter picked up on the way and took the first puff with a second sigh of well-being. The white woman looked at him peacefully and stole the object before he could take a second to bring it to her lips, just as damaged. He gave her an offended look, a mocking smirk and a falsely exasperated sigh.

“You still hate the smell, huh ?” He asked sarcastically.

She smiled softly and looked at him, raising one of his eyebrows, letting the smoke escape her lips. She took another puff under the envious look of the blonde, visibly in a hurry to recover his property. Eyes closed, she brought her face to his jealous eyes and blew the cloud of tobacco into his half-open mouth.

“I'm getting used to it ...” she whispered in a warm breath.

With these words and reluctantly, she straightened, tearing herself completely away from the heat of him under his reproving look, who took the opportunity to appreciate her flattering profile without an ounce of shyness. She smiled playfully and took one last puff before returning the object to head for the bathroom.

When she came out, he was still in the same position, finishing his cigarette thoughtfully. She approached, the slow step while watching the young man with interest. His golden eyes piercing the ceiling, his chest, his safe and skillful hands that carried the object to his face with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor. Playing the indifferent. Like always. Some strands stuck to his forehead by the effort.

“You’re going to say here all night ?”

She jumped, abruptly wrenched from her thoughts and stared at the blond who was simply watching her with his eternal mocking grin. The young woman sighed and walked slowly towards him, feeling his gaze resting on her bare flesh and restless body, shaking slightly under his weight and apprehension. She fell heavily beside him, without him taking her eyes off or making a gesture in his direction. Her eyelids opened, revealing the mage's thinking pupils.

“You want to talk about it ?” She finally asked in a small voice.

He looked away and stood up to smash the burned cigarette.

“To say what ?” He replied, feigning indifference.

She smiled.

“Right.” She sighed, closing her eyes.

He turned around and looked at her again, thoughtful. Finally, he said :

“If you wanna talk about it…”

“Shut up.” She ordered softly, snuggling between the sheets. “Before I change my mind.”

He laughed softly. A light laugh under the half-open eye.

He finally laid down again, this time with his black headphones. The mage devoured him with her eyes, pretending to fall asleep in spite of the light and the thrills that twisted her lower abdomen. He glanced at her amusedly while exploring his soundpod, she blushed and grabbed the object with a skillful hand under the once again offended little grunt of the blonde.

“What are you listening to ?” She asked without paying attention to his complaints.

“If you let me choose, maybe I would know.” He growled.

She smirked softly without sketching a move in his direction and continued to scroll through the music with an interested eye. Always the same, huh ? Suddenly, a powerful hand grabbed her wrist and suddenly flipped her over, which gave a cry of surprise. Lying on her back, both hands held by one of his and overhung by the man who skillfully stole the object with a satisfied grin.

“It's rude to steal something, you know?” He added, mockingly.

She frowned.

“It’s rude to force someone's hand.” She retorted, desperately trying to free her arms, without success.

He smirked, quickly set the headphones aside without leaving her bubbling blue eyes, and raised his eyebrows with satisfaction as he felt the white woman struggling silently. Amused, he stood still, locking her wrists with one hand and her thighs with his knees. He watched her scramble under his weight to find a way out, admiring the grace with which her breasts bounced to the rhythm of her emulations.

“Let go of me.” She finally gave up.

“Already?” The blond flattered himself, touching the young woman's chest with his free hand. “I’m having fun though, aren't you?”

The white woman was crossed by a long shiver and hardly made the eyes of the lightning mage who seemed to enjoy her confusion.

“Let go of me.”

The request was almost pleading, sensual and tinged with guilty delight. The blond swallowed hard before the desiring eyes of the white-haired mage who stared at him without confusion. He slowly released the pressure on her wrists and wobbled a bit before her alabaster arms wrapped around his neck to draw him against her and her lips grasped his, indomitable.

***

When the white opened her eyes, the room was bathed in thick white light that enveloped the air of the empty room. The mage rubbed her eyes and snuggled up against the warm, empty sheets. She straightened up abruptly and noticed the blonde’s absence with panic. Suddenly, water started to flow away and the white fell heavily against the fabric with a relieved groan. The young man came out of the bathroom, simply dressed in black sweatpants.

“Awake?” He mumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Growl. Smile.

“What time is it ?”

“One”. He replied.

“In the afternoon ?” She exclaimed, suddenly straightening up before his puzzled look.

He nodded. She hurriedly pulled herself out of the sheets and headed quickly for the bathroom. He sighed. She got out and began to collect her scattered clothes. She quickly found her underwear and quickly put them on before turning to him, who was watching her calmly. With a raised eyebrow, he pointed out a corner of the room where the centerpiece of her clothes was tossed. She grabbed it with a quick hand and put it on directly, covering her sticky, reddened skin on all sides, before tying the ribbons in a hurry.

“I have to go, or Elfman and Lisanna are going to go crazy.” She explained as she put her shoes on.

Growl.

She stared at him, hesitating on how to close this exchange. She wanted to kiss him. A lot. However, would she be able to detach herself afterwards? She stopped on her piercing but peaceful eyes, his hair messed up by the night and his dark tattoo that crossed his chest, far too tempting to be honest. He coughed, snatching her from her thoughs. She jumped and took a deep breath before grabbing her bag and heading for the door with an embarrassed smile.

“See you at the guild?” She said, not knowing what to think about this question.

“It’s going to be difficult to miss each other.” He snarled softly with a smirk that twisted the young woman's stomach.

She smiled and rushed into the corridor without answering, hating herself deeply.

The young woman hesitantly unlocked the door, hoping with all her heart that her siblings hadn't noticed her absence. She crossed the threshold softly attentive not to creak the old floor under her steps and walked gently to discover a silent house and visibly still asleep. Relieved, the immaculate put down her things and quickly went up the stairs.

Once showered and changed, she set out to prepare a light lunch when the youngest went downstairs, still sleepy.

“Mira-nee?” She exclaimed softly. “Are you already awake?”

The young woman smiled tenderly at her messy hair and sleepy pupils, and nodded happily.

“Not since long.”

Lisanna took her place at the table which almost filled the entire lean kitchen.

“What time did you get home last night?” She inquired softly.

The demonic mage bit her lip.

“Oh, late.” She replied. “I had a few things to settle.”

The youngest raised her eyebrows.

“Oh” she continued, vaguely suspicious. “did you do it ?”

The young woman chuckled softly and turned to with an almost angelic smile.

“No idea.” She finally said. “I don't think I will ever get there...”

#fairy tail #Laxus Dreyar #Mirajane Strauss #laxus x mirajane #miraxus #lisanna strauss #elfman strauss #smut #fairytail smut #angst

34 notes · View notes

ceoofbeep · 3 years

Text

Things iman has said that have pushed me to sewerslide: a never ending post

‘love the sinner hate the sin’ ‘we’re not christian’ ‘???’ ‘ITS FROM THE BIBLE?’ ‘I THOUGHT IT WAS FROM HAMILTON??.’

‘did slaves have paracetamol’ ‘i mean painkillers in general’ "I mean clearly they did because you have them"

‘...because i ship waluigi and me’

'The Queen kind of a milf tho' AFTER HER DEATH: "she would be a gilf if anything"

is a simp for Frank from subway surfers

'i have a crush on danger mouse' 'what'

'can i whip him' (about mahamed)

'ass to the highest bidder' 'its lucky danger mouse is rich'

'george is my little snookums'

*acting like sherlock* 'so everyone whoss suspected yedam is dead!' 'they voted him out...'

ponkimon

compares luigis mustache to hitlers

"mario is packing" “he is packing”

"im earth chan"

about morphing PRINCE PHILLIP AND LEVI ACKERMAN “he would be kinda fine tho

calls a colonel sanders cosplay hot

“i only read wilbur fan fics for alyn, i mean thats how i came up with alyn” “so you read wilbur fics before”

“im hungry i need to eat marios peepee”

about the a/o/b muzzies “no wonder they want to kill us all”

about george gaslighting ‘i wouldnt mind’

‘i know ponk, he would never do this’

‘HE HEE’ possessed

to seunghun ‘i wanna be your slave’

‘nigeria is next to somalia right?’

‘i am submissive and breedable for:

-kim seunghun

-matthew baynton

-danger mouse

‘everyone who has a crush on matthew banyton gives me a headache’ ‘i want to give matthew baynton head’

turns everything into her and rae or her and byeol

step dad, youre wrong, oh sorry step parent

i kin thomas jefferson

*about my maths teacher running* im putting my ohone in my right hand

loyalists didnt yall lose the kings head… thats royalists

gets “can we pretend” and “written in the stars”ed

talking about how its an insult, “are you calling me old, are you calling me black?”

making it worse, “im not racist its the blacks,”

“im not racist i just hate black ppl

kidnapping goats is uneathical.. and kidnapping children isnt

giving diluc the gluck gluck 3000 I MEAN

written in the stars a million miles away baby i can see ur halo

in a way youre breeding art

i would let willne say the n word "in a way we've both been been discriminated against, we're black and he's got a square head"

tries to excuse dreams RACISM with “but ponk..”

gets a attachment to a random tory and says that its pc material

i want to see yoonbin in a commie hat and nothing else

“BE WHO YOU AREEE” thats a pride song…

‘hes talking about me’ about oergeuene

whos thomas pet, me, no ayato

‘matpat is a dilf’

about epraise points 'you have 43 primogems'

i would let hajime hit

"she's fine" about Theresa may

‘whats stalin’s last name’ /srs

Who Would Want To Have A Child With Haruto Watanabe

*gundham voice* boobs

im joining the karl marx hentai reddit

if a man isnt toothpaste

mistakes bojack horseman for BOJO

them things outside of garages "SCARECROWS?"

‘Hé has a perfectly good set of bollocks’

gs leaving is the biggest tragedy of 2022…

about Hunter ‘whys he kinda…’

About Haruto ‘whys he kinda…’

makes a self insert romeo and Juliet ff where they lips mercutio AND benvolio

i have love for byakuya when his shirt is off

(WHEN HIS TITS OUT!!!!!)

Says my history teacher “gives back shots in the ks cafe”

Throwing a tantrum because her teacher crush may be dating someone else

said Ben wil had a massive cock "he could still have it"

THINKS ENEMY OF STATE (hw worst of t12) IS ACCEPTSBLE AND LENG!!!!!!

he (bw) has a slutty waist

he (bw) has a ten inch

"I'm in pain, literally I have pins and needles, SCREAMS"

calls olivier giroud a slut 9/4 daily occurence

listened to dimentio's theme a hundred times

arsenal are siblings, Chelsea are like step siblings

you gagged me I fear

agreed with:

"what makes nct's Johnny so appealing" NOTHINGGGGGG

thought gift was spelt with a j and pronounced jift

'healthy ship dynamic' booooooring

Looked at him and said 'tits'

Just shouts "WOOF"

He (Jule) would call you blackbeard from one piece

#iman is the problem

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unfolded73 · 4 years

Text

Today and All the Days that Follow (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

At 8880 words, it’s probably insufficient to call this a 6x14 reaction fic, although it’s that too. An exploration of relationships, both on the wedding day and in the future. Rated Explicit (ao3)

Other Season 6 reaction fics: 6x01, 6x02, 6x04, 6x06, 6x07, 6x13

NOTES: Thanks to Emily Hampshire for saying in an interview that David and Stevie are soulmates. Thanks to the Rosebudd denizens for speculating how David and Patrick's wedding night might've gone - I think I stole some ideas from you guys. Thanks to my husband for giving me so many ideas for ridiculous sex-adjacent banter. Thanks to Dan Levy for writing this fucking show.

And another thing: This fic does reference the "happy ending" a couple of times in a lighthearted way. It's not a big part of the fic but it is mentioned.

And one more thing: I probably only have to say this because I've written some dark shit in the past, but while it may sound like I've imperiled Patrick's health at one point in this fic, he's fine. Don't worry.

__________________________________________________

9:47 a.m.

Marcy Brewer sipped her tea, giving the waitress Twyla a smile as she gathered up their empty breakfast plates. Twyla met the smile with one of her own at ten times the wattage. “I’m so excited for this evening,” Twyla gushed. “I love weddings.”

“We’re excited too,” Marcy said as Clint pulled out his wallet.

“I mean, I didn’t love my cousin Darryl’s wedding, but to be fair we warned him that saying their vows while skydiving was a bad idea,” Twyla continued.

Marcy met Clint’s eyes and tried to keep her face neutral. “We’re just worried about the rain,” Marcy said, trying to change the subject before she learned more about Darryl’s tragic wedding ceremony.

Twyla looked out the front window of the café and frowned. “Yeah. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“We’re just on our way to meet Johnny and Moira now,” Marcy said, “so I guess we’ll find out how much of an issue the weather’s going to be once we speak to them.”

Clint handed a credit card to Twyla and stood up. “I’m going to run to the restroom,” Clint said, patting Marcy’s hand as he left the table.

The door to the café swung open and revealed David fumbling awkwardly with an umbrella before he managed to get it folded and the door closed against the driving wind. He hurried to the counter and spoke in low, urgent tones to Twyla, who gave him a sympathetic nod and made her way over to the espresso machine.

Marcy stood and approached him, concerned by the anxious way he was drumming his fingers on the counter and biting his lip. She hadn’t spent that much time with David in person, but he looked like he was close to a full meltdown.

“David,” she said, a gentle hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“The rain has ruined everything,” he said in a small, breathy voice. “We’re going to end up getting married in a barn.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure you won’t have to get married in a barn,” Marcy said, rubbing up and down on his upper arm. He wore a soft sweater with a rainbow heart on the chest, and Marcy’s own heart squeezed at the thought of him choosing to wear that sweater before he changed into his wedding tuxedo.

David laughed humorlessly. “You’d be surprised how many major events in this town have happened in a barn.”

Twyla brought over a coffee cup, handing it to David and handing Clint’s receipt and credit card to Marcy. “Listen, David, I’ll get someone to cover for me today so that I can help with whatever you guys need today. And if Jocelyn hasn’t already done so, I’ll put out the word to everybody to pitch in,” Twyla said.

“Thanks,” David said, “That’s… that’s really nice of you.”

“We love you guys,” Twyla said with another sunny smile. “The least we can do is make sure you have a nice wedding today.”

“See?” Marcy said when Twyla left to deliver someone else’s breakfast. “Everyone’s behind you. It won’t be ruined.”

David nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “I just wanted today to be perfect.”

“Well, weddings are never perfect. Did I ever tell you about how my sister stepped on my train and ripped it about ten minutes before I was supposed to walk down the aisle?”

Shaking his head with wide eyes, David put his hand over his mouth. “What did you do?”

Marcy shrugged. “We pinned it with a couple of safety pins and I got married in a ripped dress. In the end, I was still married to the love of my life at the end of the day. And you can’t really tell in the pictures unless you know what to look for.”

David took a sip of his coffee, and Marcy thought maybe he was shaking a little bit less than he had been when they’d started talking.

“Patrick is the love of my life too, you know,” he said softly.

Marcy put an arm around him, giving him a squeeze. “Oh, David. I knew that the first day we met.”

~~~

2034

“I told Patrick he wasn’t wearing enough sunscreen,” David fretted on the screen of her phone. Marcy could tell by the herky-jerky movement of the camera and the motion of the ceiling above his head that David was pacing the floor.

“David, there’s no need to catastrophize until the biopsy comes back. And even if it’s bad news—”

“Oh, God—”

“Even if it’s bad news,” Marcy said more firmly, “skin cancer is treatable. The odds are very good these days.” She ignored the ball of anxiety in her own stomach, focusing on soothing her son-in-law’s nerves.

“All those baseball games, and hikes… just last month he was outside all weekend helping to set up for the Elm County Pride events.”

Marcy watched David flop down on the sofa and run his hand over his face. “You aren’t going to be able to stop him from doing the things he wants to do, David. Believe me, I had to tell myself that with every trip we made to the emergency room when he was a kid.” There was a droning sound outside, and she looked up in time to see Clint trundle past with the lawnmower. It was a job he insisted on doing himself even though they had plenty of grand-nieces and grand-nephews who would do it for them if they asked. She supposed the reckless apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

A smirk flashed across David’s face. “That arm he broke twice aches sometimes before it rains now.”

Marcy snorted. “He deserves it. He was an idiot when he was a teenager.”

They looked at each other’s faces through their phone screens for several seconds. At fifty, her son’s husband was as handsome as ever, his hair streaked with bits of grey and the lines beside his eyes more prominent. “Also, I’m afraid I’ll be bad at taking care of him,” David said quietly.

“Well, that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

She startled a laugh out of David with that. “It’s definitely not. Just ask your son.”

“I know you think Patrick is the one who takes care of you, but the thing I’ve learned about you boys over all these years is that you have a knack for not falling apart at the same time. When you need him, Patrick is strong for you. But when Patrick needs you, you’re strong for him.”

She could see the glassiness of tears in David’s eyes. “I hope you’re right, Marcy.”

“Listen to your elders, David,” she said as David’s head whipped around toward something outside the range of the camera. “What is it?”

“He’s on the phone,” David whispered. “It might be the doctor.”

Marcy waited, trying to take her own advice not to worry until there was definitely something to worry about. It almost worked.

Finally, she could hear Patrick’s voice, followed immediately by an expression of relief on David’s face. “Are they sure?”

“Yeah, she said it’s benign, but that I should have it checked in another six months.” Patrick came within view of David’s phone camera. “Hi, Mom,” he said, his eyes darting to David. “David, did you tell her…?”

The image blurred and swooped as David likely was gesticulating with the hand holding it. “I needed someone to talk to about this, honey.”

Patrick sat down next to David and pulled him into his side. Marcy watched as David hugged her son, the camera at an angle, the phone probably forgotten in his hand.

��I’m sorry if you were worried, Mom,” Patrick said as he pulled out of the hug and David rested his head on Patrick’s shoulder.

“You need to tell me about these things, Patrick. I worry more when you don’t talk to me.” It was a well-trod pattern between them, stretching back to when Patrick was a teenager. She didn’t seriously think Patrick would change now, but it felt better to chide him anyway.

“I know,” he said placidly, turning and kissing the top of David’s head.

“Thank you for being there for us, Marcy,” David said.

“Of course.” She swallowed back tears that threatened to spill over. “I love you, my sweet boys.”

~~~

1:39 p.m.

“So,” Stevie said after she and Patrick had his car doors closed, their raincoats dripping onto the seats and floorboards. “Now we just have to break it to David that the wedding is going to be at the Town Hall.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna go well,” Patrick sighed. “But it really is the best option. He’ll see that, right?”

Stevie gave him several exaggerated nods like she was a bobble-head doll. “Sure.”

Sighing again, Patrick started the car.

“I know he’s been really extra about the wedding, but you know it’s only because marrying you is really important to him, right? Like, the most important thing he’s ever done,” Stevie said as they pulled out of the motel parking lot.

“I know,” Patrick replied. “I mean, there have been moments that I was worried that the wedding was more important to him than the marriage, but…” He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face when he thought about their future in this town. “David’s gesture with the house allayed my fears on that count.”

“David likes things to be just right, is all. So his mind kind of obsessively goes over and over and over stuff that matters to him until he has it the way he wants it. Like his wardrobe. Or the store.”

“Yeah.” Patrick took a left turn toward his apartment. “You know my future husband very well.”

After a long pause, Stevie asked, “Can I tell you something and you not take it the wrong way?”

“Well, that’s not at all ominous.”

“I think David is, like, my soulmate. Not romantically!” she added quickly. “Just…our friendship is the most important thing in my life. And maybe it always will be.”

Patrick pulled into his parking space at the apartment and shut off the car. He turned and stared at Stevie, trying to wrap his head around what she’d just said. “I’ll confess I’m struggling with the concept of a non-romantic soulmate.”

“That’s because you’re a disgustingly romantic person. I’m … not that. And look, I know that while David is the most important person in my life, he has you and you’re his person. I get that. And I’m more than okay with it. It’s great, actually. I love you guys together, and I love who David has become being with you.” She looked down at her fingers. “I just wanted you to understand… I don’t know. I’m not saying this right.”

Maybe she wasn’t, but Patrick didn’t have to understand her feelings to support them. After all, he’d never understood how she had just stopped wanting to sleep with David at some point. Patrick couldn’t imagine sleeping with David and then not wanting to do it again and again, forever.

“Stevie, I was already aware that you and David have a special bond. You guys are alike in ways that he and I will never be, and so you probably understand him in ways that I don’t.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “I think that if David hadn’t been your friend first, he and I probably would never have made it here. You made him a better person. I suspect that you still do.”

She snorted. “I’m way too much of a mess to make anyone a better person, but I appreciate that you think so.” She squeezed his hand and let it go. “You’re a close second in the best friend department, you know.”

“I’m honoured,” Patrick said, but then he narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s just because the one thing you can’t do with your best friend David Rose is complain about David Rose, isn’t it?”

Stevie shrugged, laughing. “So what if it is?”

Patrick moved to get out of the car, but then stopped. “I’ve been meaning to say, I assume I have you to thank for David’s change of heart about New York? And the house?”

“He just needed a tiny nudge in the right direction, that’s all. Same as always.”

“Thank you. Seriously.”

“Well, since I’ve once again set your love life on the right path like I always do, I expect payment.”

“How many bottles of wine?” Patrick asked.

“Nope, not that. I have demands about the house. I want to be able to drop by and visit whenever I want. And dinner at least once a week when I’m in town.”

“Should I have an extra key made for you?” Patrick asked, smirking.

“Duh.”

“Okay, but I can’t promise you won’t walk in on something you’ll regret,” he said, finally getting out of the car and hurrying through the rain to the front door of his apartment building.

Stevie was grimacing as she followed him inside. “Fine, I’ll text first.”

~~~

2022

There was a sharp knocking sound on the window pane of the back door, and Patrick looked up from the tax documents spread out on his kitchen table to see Stevie’s face framed through the glass. He gestured for her to come in.

“There’s some coffee left,” he said, his eyes already back on his paperwork.

Stevie went straight for the cabinet where the mugs were, getting one down and filling it with coffee before she came over and looked at what Patrick was doing. “Hmm, looks like you’re working.”

He looked up and blinked balefully at her. “Yes. This tax paperwork is due at the end of the week.”

“Looks like you’re working at home. When you have a perfectly good desk in the back of the store,” she said before sipping her coffee.

“I have a little more space to spread out here,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you and David are having a fight.”

Patrick put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, you clearly have already talked to him, so out with it. Tell me what you’re here to tell me. And it’s not a fight, it’s a… minor disagreement.”

“Uh huh.”

“Stevie—”

“It sort of seems to me that you were having a reasonable debate over where the second Rose Apothecary location should be and then the debate experienced some… scope creep.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Scope creep?”

Stevie threw up her hands and groaned. “I’ve been in a lot of meetings with the Rosebud Motel Group leadership team lately, sorry.”

“Ooh, tell me what other business-y buzzwords you’ve learned.”

“Don’t change the subject, Brewer; we’re talking about you and David right now, not my career.” She sat down at the table across from him, shoving some papers out of the way so that she wouldn’t have to set her coffee mug down on top of them.

“So what did David say?” Patrick asked, a bit afraid of the answer.

“Here’s what I think,” Stevie said, not answering the question. “I think that you do a lot in this marriage and around the store because you like being needed. And also you like to take charge and control things. Classic service top behaviour.”

Patrick had thought he was done blushing about his sex life around Stevie; apparently not. “I’m sorry, what?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “David talks to me about stuff, you know that. Anyway, my point is that when you get overwhelmed and need help, you have a hard time just asking for help. Instead you passive aggressively make David feel bad that he isn’t doing more.”

“I’m not being passive aggressive.”

“Patrick, you are totally being passive aggressive. And I’m not saying David doesn’t share some of the blame: he’s got this learned helplessness thing that I assume dates back to early childhood and believe me, I find it as annoying as you do. Maybe more so.” She raised her coffee to her mouth and took a sip. “But if you’re overwhelmed right now, maybe you should try just straightforwardly asking David to help you.”

Patrick pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Fine.” He looked up at her. “For someone who claims to not do relationships, you certainly seem to know a lot about them.”

“When would I have time for a relationship? A significant amount of my free time is taken up by being your and David’s marriage counsellor.” She stood up from the table. “So are you good?”

Sighing, Patrick nodded. “I’m good.”

“Good, because I’ve got a flight to Michigan tonight to visit some of the midwestern motels.” She gave him a little wave and left via the back door.

Patrick picked up his phone and called David.

“Hi,” David answered on the third ring.

“Hey. I’m sorry. Can we talk?”

There was a pause, but Patrick could almost hear David nodding. “We can talk. I love you.”

Patrick was already stacking up his papers to return to their file folders. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He glanced around the kitchen, frowning. “And hey, can you tell Stevie to stop stealing our coffee mugs? She just took another one.”

David laughed. “It’s not just the coffee mugs. She has some of our dishes and flatware too.”

“Cool,” Patrick deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “And I love you, too.”

~~~

5:05 p.m.

Patrick spotted his father coming in from his reflection in the mirror as Patrick prepared to tie his tie. He dropped the two ends of it and spun around. “Thank god,” he said at the sight of the styrofoam containers in his father’s hands. “I don’t know why it just now occurred to me that I forgot to eat today.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine,” his father said with a smirk. “Could there possibly be something else on your mind?”

They sat together at the small desk in the town hall back room where they’d sequestered themselves to change for the wedding. Patrick’s mother was with the other relatives who had made the trip into town, texting frequent updates about his extended family’s shenanigans.

“Oh, I double checked with Stevie. She has the wedding rings,” Clint said as he tucked a napkin into his collar to protect his tuxedo shirt.

“Is she absolutely sure?” Patrick copied his father’s actions with his own napkin, imagining that if he managed to get mustard on his wedding shirt, David might change his mind about getting married. Finally, he dug into his food.

“She said she texted you a picture as proof,” Clint said with an amused smile. Patrick pulled out his phone while he chewed and sure enough, there were three pictures from Stevie in his messages: one close-up of the open ring box with two wide, gold bands in it, one selfie of her putting the box in the jacket pocket of her suit, and one of her flipping off the camera. He grinned and put the phone away. “Yeah, she has them.”

“She seems like an excellent maid of honour for David,” Patrick’s father mumbled around a mouthful of burger.

Thinking about Stevie’s delight at the happy ending mishap a couple of hours ago, Patrick chuckled and took another bite of his burger. “Yeah.”

“These burgers aren’t very good,” Clint admitted.

Patrick put his down. He’d managed to take three bites out of it, but the butterflies in his stomach were making it challenging to choke down any more of the food he’d wanted so badly a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, they’re never very good.”

“And yet you eat there frequently?”

Patrick shrugged. “It’s next to the store.” He pushed away from the table. “I think I’m too nervous to eat.”

Clint put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

“For what, going through with getting married this time?” Patrick joked, uncomfortable with his father getting emotional right now. He felt like his own emotions were way too close to the surface as it was.

“For realizing that things in your life weren’t right, and for having the courage to go out and find what you needed to be happy.”

“It didn’t feel like courage. It felt like running away.”

Clint threaded his fingers together and fidgeted with his thumbs, a nervous tic that Patrick had picked up from his father when he was a kid. “Your mother and I probably didn’t make it any easier on you those first few months, pressuring you to come home.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Patrick said quickly. Maybe there were other things they needed to apologize for, but wanting him to come home when he couldn’t articulate why he’d left, that wasn’t something he could lay at their feet. “I wish I’d been brave enough to tell you about David from the start. You could have gotten to know him a lot better by now if I’d just—”

“Patrick, no.”

“It’s true.”

“We’ll have years to get to know him. Thanksgivings and Christmases and maybe some summer trips to the lake house, okay?”

Patrick let out a slow breath. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Clint pushed himself up from his chair, pulling the napkin from his collar. “Then let’s get you ready to get married, shall we?”

~~~

2021

“So are you ready for the official tour?” Patrick asked his parents after setting their luggage in the front room of the house.

“We saw the house when we were here for the wedding, remember?” Clint said with an indulgent smile.

“That doesn’t count; they hadn’t moved in yet,” Marcy said. “Now they’re settled in and we get to see it as Patrick and David’s house.” She looked around. “Is David not here?”

“He’s at the store, but he should be home in a half hour,” Patrick said. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He took them through the living room — where David had recently hung a piece of Japanese art above the fireplace, the mantle already crowded with pictures from their wedding; where a cozy sofa was angled toward the television Patrick had spent a frustrating Sunday mounting on the wall — to the kitchen. In the morning, the kitchen was Patrick’s favorite part of the house, sunlight streaming in through the south-facing windows as he boiled water for tea and ground coffee beans for David’s French press. One end of the counter tended to collect the detritus of their lives — junk mail, loose pens, change from their pockets, and David’s keys when he forgot to put them in the bowl by the front door. The cabinets were gradually filling up as they acquired more small appliances and salad bowls, crystal wine glasses and those proper pint glasses Patrick had always wanted.

“We’re going to paint in here next year,” Patrick explained. “I’d like to teach myself to tile so that I can replace the backsplash at the same time.”

“I could come out and help, if you want,” his dad offered.

“Sure, that would be great.”

He pointed out the dining room and then led them to the one downstairs bedroom, which was doubling as an office and guest room. “You’ll be in here,” Patrick said. “I promise the sofa bed is comfortable. Or Stevie says it is, anyway. She sleeps in here when she’s had too much to drink to drive home.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, sweetie,” his mom said. “The walls are an interesting color,” she commented, pointing out the deep plum walls.

“Oh yeah, David painted this room. I didn’t think I’d like it, but it kind of works.” He led them out and up the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor of the house where the other two bedrooms were. Stopping in the doorway of the master bedroom, Patrick said, “This is our bedroom, obviously.” He moved on quickly. Even now that he was married to David, he still felt weird about his parents seeing the bed they shared. The couple of times they visited him in his apartment, he’d felt the presence of his bed in the space like it was looming over them, daring his parents to picture him in it with David.

“The bathroom up here is nicer than the one downstairs, so you’re welcome to come up and use this one,” he said, indicating the room in question. “I’d like to redo the tile in here too at some point, if I can find the time.”

He started toward the stairs, but his mother hung back. “Are those both closets?” she said, pointing to the other closed doors.

Patrick chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. One is the linen closet, one is the third bedroom that David uses as a closet. I don’t think he’d forgive me if I showed you that.”

His parents laughed and shook their heads and followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he poured them wine and set the oven to preheat so that he could bake the lasagna he and David had put together the night before. Then he pulled out ingredients for a salad.

“The house is lovely,” his mom said. “You’ve made a real home here, and it’s wonderful to see.”

“Have you decided what to do with that big yard yet?” Clint asked.

Patrick shook his head. “I’d like to try my hand at gardening, but I’m worried I won’t have the time to keep it up.”

David arrived home then in a flurry of hugs for his in-laws and a kiss on the cheek for Patrick, and in less than ten minutes he and Marcy were deep in conversation over the latest true crime documentary on Netflix. His father pulled a second knife from the block and went to work on the cucumbers while Patrick peeled carrots.

“This is what I always wanted for you, you know,” Clint said softly as they worked on the salad.

Patrick looked over at David. His excitement in making whatever point he was making to a giggling Marcy showed in his high-pitched voice and his broad hand gestures. Turning back to his father, Patrick raised a skeptical eyebrow. He was pretty sure this wasn’t at all what his father had pictured for him when he was young, and Patrick couldn’t help a tiny nugget of resentment from surfacing in his stomach for his father trying to rewrite their history.

“Okay, I didn’t know I wanted this, specifically,” Clint acknowledged. “I just… I wanted you to have a home of your own, is all. A place to settle down and be happy. That’s what I mean. And that’s what you have.”

Patrick smiled. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I have.”

~~~

5:41 p.m.

“Wow.” Stevie said when he emerged from the bathroom of the motel room.

David dismissed her reaction with a flutter of his hand. “You were with me at the fitting.”

“Yeah, but it hadn’t been fit yet so I didn’t get the full effect.” She eyeballed him up and down. “It’s really sexy, actually. Patrick’s gonna flip.”

David looked down at himself in his wedding clothes. He’d had them shorten the skirt so that the front panel hit him right at the knees, and then he’d been nervous that he’d made a terrible mistake. “Are you sure? It’s not too funky?” he joked, harkening back to the opinion about his clothes that Stevie had expressed years ago.

“No, I actually love it.” She took a sip of her champagne. “And you know I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it.”

Going over to the mirror, David began fussing with his hair, making sure every strand was in place. The rest of his wedding might have been ruined, but at the very least he could look perfect.

“Are you nervous?”

He thought about it, probing his feelings. He was excited about saying his vows to Patrick and slipping a wedding ring onto his finger. He was feeling queasy that his vision for the outdoor wedding of his dreams had to be tossed aside because of the weather. But was he nervous? “Not at the moment, but ask me again right before I walk down the aisle.” He huffed. “If they even manage to have an aisle in that place. As I walk between Bob and Ronnie’s desks, I guess.”

Stevie grinned at him. “I went over and took a look at Town Hall while you were getting dressed. You might be surprised when you see it.”

He rolled his eyes, trying not to get his hopes up. “Whatever.”

The door between the motel rooms opened then and Johnny strode in, his bow tie dangling from his collar but otherwise he was dressed and ready to go. “Oh, Stevie, don’t you look lovely!” he said with a big smile before turning to take David in. “And David—”

“Yes, this is what I’m wearing, so don’t start,” David snapped, trying to head off any comments his father might make about the style of his wedding attire. Johnny Rose tolerated, even liked, all manner of fashion from his wife, but that tolerance hadn’t always extended to his son’s sartorial choices. Johnny might have accepted his sexual orientation a long time ago, but he occasionally had some old-fashioned ideas when it came to gender expression.

Johnny blinked, a spark of hurt in his eyes. “David, I think you look wonderful.”

David’s teeth clicked together in surprise. “Thanks.”

“And when I think about..” Johnny paused, and swallowed, and David could see the glassiness of unshed tears in his eyes. “When I think about how much you went through, and that now you’ve found someone to love you and share your life with…”

“Dad, you can’t do this right now; if you start crying, then I’m going to start crying, and then my eyes will be puffy in the wedding pictures and I’ll blame you for it.”

“Mr. Rose, maybe you could go check and see if Mrs. Rose is ready to drive over to Town Hall?” Stevie said gently, putting an arm around him and ushering him back to the door.

“That’s a good idea, Stevie — thank you.” He gave David one more watery smile before he closed the door behind him.

“Thanks,” David breathed. “I’m touched by how much he cares, but I can’t handle that level of emotion right now.”

Stevie nodded. “Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me, because I’m not capable of that level of emotion.”

David smirked at her. “Right.”

“Although for the record, I do love you a lot, and I’m really happy and honoured that I get to stand beside you while you marry the love of your life today.”

His eyes filled up with tears that immediately spilled over onto his cheeks. “Oh, fuck you.” He wiped under his eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

Stevie grinned. “Yes, I did. But also, it’s the truth.”

“I know.” David sniffled. “I love you, too.”

~~~

2029

When Stevie finally showed up on his doorstep the week before Christmas, David pulled her into a hug and almost started crying.

“I haven’t seen you in months,” he scolded her, his eyes squeezing shut as he rocked them back and forth.

“I know, I know, I didn’t know I’d have to be at corporate so much this year.” She slapped his arm. “Are you going to let me in anytime soon? I’m freezing.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, stepping back and letting her into the house. Stevie pulled her boots off and left them by the door, hanging her coat and scarf up before following David into the kitchen where he put a glass of wine into her hand.

“So, Dad being a hundred percent retired has been tough, huh?”

“I really didn’t realize how much work he did,” Stevie said, flopping into a chair. “So many meetings. Resolving conflicts between people with enormous egos. Making a thousand decisions every day, all the while convinced someone is going to point out what a huge fraud I am.”

“Oh my god, don’t talk about my best friend like that. You aren’t a fraud.”

“So what’s going on with the move to Elmdale, is that still happening?”

David felt his familiar anxiety arising at the mention of that topic. “We’ve looked at, like, a hundred houses. Some of them are very nice and two were within walking distance of my favorite pizza place and that new wine bar that opened up last year.”

Stevie squinted at him. “And therefore within walking distance of your Rose Apothecary location in Elmdale.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, and that. Our biggest location, and the one that arguably requires most of our attention these days.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“There is every logical reason to move.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I love this house!” He said, gesturing around at his warm kitchen. “I love it. We’ve done so much work on it over the years, and I just… I hate the idea of some other family buying it and moving in and living inside these walls that are ours.”

“You’ve always complained that it’s too small,” Stevie pointed out.

“I know. It is.”

“What does Patrick think?”

“He thinks I’m being overly sentimental, but he’s willing to stay in this house if that’s what I want. Of course. Because that’s what my husband does.”

“Maybe you haven’t found a house you like enough to replace this one, but that doesn’t mean that house doesn’t exist,” Stevie said. “Maybe you should keep looking.”

“Maybe.” He waved his hand as if to dismiss that topic of conversation into the ether. “Anyway, I read that profile of you in Entrepreneur Magazine.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “Would you believe that stupid magazine profile got me laid, like, multiple times?”

“I used to live in New York. Of course I believe that.”

“Like, so much dick, David.”

“Okay, I get it.” He sipped his wine and debated whether to ask the question that was plaguing him. “Any, um, special dicks in the bunch?”

Stevie narrowed her eyes. “Is that your way of asking if there’s anyone special in my life?”

“Maybe.”

“There isn’t. I mean, there’s guys that I’ve seen more than once, but if you’re asking if I’ve caught feelings for anyone, the answer is no.”

“Hmm.” He heaved a sigh and decided to bite the bullet. “So are you gonna… stay in New York?”

Smiling like she could see right through him, Stevie said, “Actually, one of the things I’ve been doing this week is sitting in on interviews for a new Chief Operating Officer. Because I want to come home.”

David’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he schooled his expression to one of skepticism. “You’re a high-powered business woman and you’ve spent the last few months in one of the most exciting cities in the world, getting wined and dined and eaten out by a parade of randoms, and you want to come back to Schitt’s Creek.”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“Why?”

“I miss the futility of Bumpkin.”

“Stevie, why?”

“Because I missed my friends, you dumb ass.” She swirled her wine. “You in particular.”

David suppressed a smile. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Dumb ass.”

~~~

9:42 p.m.

He dodged Alexis’ wobbly nose boop. His nose had been booped by her enough for one day.

“Daaavid. You’re married,” she said, swaying in front of him, a champagne flute clutched in her hand.

“I know, I haven’t forgotten the ceremony. And if I had, you’ve told me that four times already tonight.”

“Yeah, but I just keep thinking about how lonely you were before. Not just when we first got here, but also in New York.”

“Mm hmm, thanks, I appreciate you bringing that up,” he said with an eye roll.

Alexis ignored him. “I mean, there were always people around you, but you were really lonely. And now look.” She gestured around the room. Ronnie and some of the Jazzagals were in a loose circle on the dance floor, dancing and singing along too loudly to Crazy in Love. His father and Patrick’s father were talking at one of the tables, laughing about something. Stevie and his mother (having made a complete costume change after the ceremony) were doing shots at the bar while his new husband and mother-in-law were watching with amusement. “You have all of these people in your life who love you.”

David nodded, too overcome for the moment to speak. They both watched the reception in silence for a minute.

“Do you think Mom and Dad are going to be okay without us?” Alexis asked.

“They have each other, and they’ve always been the most important person in each other’s lives. They’ll be fine.”

“Do you think we’re going to be okay without Mom and Dad?”

“Yes, I do. Well, you will be, because you’re you. And I have Patrick, so…”

Alexis nodded. “Do you think we’re going to be okay without each other?”

“I think you better call me all the fucking time,” David said, putting his arm around her. Alexis wrapped both of her arms around his waist and squeezed.

~~~

2025

“I still can’t get used to you cooking,” Alexis commented from the tablet screen that David had propped up on the kitchen counter so that he could use both of his hands to finely chop the cilantro that had come out of their garden.

“You literally saw me cooking when you were here last Thanksgiving,” he said, the chef’s knife in his hand making a dangerous arc through the air as he made his point.

“I know, and I still can’t get used to it.”

“Patrick and I wouldn’t still be married if I hadn’t taken on a larger share of the housework, and it turns out, despite all past evidence to the contrary, that I’m good at this. Okay?”

“Okay, David, god. Lighten up.”

“So anyway, you were telling me about Mom and Dad,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, she says she’s really done with Los Angeles for good this time, and that they’re staying here in New York for the foreseeable future.” Alexis was fiddling with her hair. “We’ll see.”

“That’s a relief, honestly. I feel better knowing you’re close by to check in on them more frequently. They aren’t getting any younger.”

“When are you guys visiting New York again?”

David scraped the cilantro into his bowl of chopped tomatoes and grabbed a lime, slicing it in half. “August, I hope. What’s going on with that guy you were seeing? What was his name? Larry?”

“Ew, David. Can you see me dating a guy named Larry? It’s Leonard.”

“Uh huh, that’s much cooler,” he smirked. “Are you still seeing him?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s serious. I don’t know if I have time for something serious.”

“You work too hard.”

“So do you.”

David sighed, debating internally whether to tell her the news.

“What?” Alexis asked, her eyes narrowed. “You’re keeping something from me.”

Setting his knife down, David looked into the camera. “Ted’s back in town.”

She started fidgeting with her hair again. “Oh yeah? What brings Ted to town?”

“His mother is sick and he’s here to help her get to and from her chemotherapy appointments. At least that’s what Jocelyn said. She said he might even reopen his vet practice, but that might just be the Schitt’s Creek rumour mill on overdrive.”

“I should maybe send Mrs. Mullens a card, right? Should I send her a card?” Alexis asked in a small voice.

“I’m sure she would appreciate a card.” He cleared his throat. “If I see Ted, do you want me to—”

“No. I don’t know. Just… tell him I said ‘hey.’ And that I hope his mom is okay.”

“I’ll do that.” David felt a swell of affection for his little sister. “You know, the guest room here is yours anytime you want to visit.”

Alexis nodded up and down several times. “Yeah. I’ll… yeah. Let me check my calendar and I’ll get back to you. I mean, I know you miss me, so…”

He smiled. “I do miss you, Alexis.”

~~~

12:29 a.m.

“Do you want to dance some more?” Patrick asked, nuzzling against the side of David’s neck as they sat at one of the reception tables.

“We can if you want,” David said. Stevie, Alexis, and Twyla all seemed to just be getting their second wind, gyrating together on the dance floor to “Umbrella.”

“My feet are kind of killing me, actually,” Patrick admitted. “And as you once told me, sock feet in a public place is incorrect.”

David looked down at the boots he had paired with his Thom Browne tuxedo, which were still really comfortable after several hours on his feet. “Then we don’t need to dance. We did plenty of dancing tonight.”

“Do you want more cake?” Patrick asked.

“I might explode if I eat more cake.”

“A tragic and disgusting end to a very short marriage,” Patrick said seriously, his lips quirking up on one side in a tiny smile.

“Ha ha.”

Patrick sat up a little straighter then and waggled his faint eyebrows in a spoof of lasciviousness. “Do you wanna come back to my place?”

“Mm, I would, but I’m married,” David said, trying to suppress a grin.

Laughing, Patrick leaned closer. “Oh, but I’ve heard your husband is pretty liberated about stuff like that.”

David bit his lip. “Only in special cases, like when he hires a sex worker for me. Also, he has a weakness for attractive carpenters who are up for a threesome.”

Patrick looked around, a smirk still firmly planted on his face. “Are there any attractive carpenters here?”

“You know, I would’ve invited Jake? But I didn’t want to find my maid of honour hooking up with him in a closet before we managed to pose for pictures.”

Patrick’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked back and forth between David’s eyes and his mouth. “Seriously, though. We outlasted all of our parents at this party, and the newly married couple does traditionally leave first. We can go whenever you’re ready.”

“I think my parents are out back sharing a joint with Roland and Jocelyn, frighteningly enough, but I take your point. Let’s go home.” Home right now was still the apartment, but next month it would be the new house, which David was almost as excited about as he had been about the wedding.

A swish of white in David’s peripheral vision caught his eye, and he looked up to see Alexis, Twyla, and Stevie. Twyla had an entire bottle of champagne in one fist. “We’re taking this party back to the motel. Wanna come?”

He looked at Patrick, torn between his precious remaining time with his sister before she left for New York, and being alone with his husband. Patrick, as he often could, read David’s mind. “Yeah, let’s go party at the motel.”

Anyone awake and paying attention would have seen the five of them stumbling down the road at a quarter to one in the morning in formalwear, David unable to stop himself from laughing loudly at the ridiculous rendition of “Shallow” that Patrick and Twyla were singing while they walked. As they approached the motel, Patrick took a moment to whisper something in Stevie’s ear. David watched with curiosity as Stevie ducked into the office when they arrived, emerging after a few seconds and pressing something into Patrick’s hand. Before David could follow Alexis into their room, Patrick grabbed his hand and dragged him down the walkway to the room at the end of the row.

“What are we doing?”

“Just taking a tiny detour before we go party with your sister,” Patrick said, unlocking the love room.

“This is a nightmare room, though. Also I fucked Stevie in here.”

“Yeah, like three years ago. I think I can handle it,” Patrick deadpanned as he closed the door and pushed David up against it.

“They’re going to know what we’re doing.”

“Oh, no. What will I do if your sister and our friends know that you and I are having sex?” He kissed David, his mouth open and searching. “I just need a few minutes alone with my husband.”

David groaned, his head tilting back to thunk against the shade drawn over the door’s window panel. “Say that again.”

Patrick took David’s jacket from his hand, tossing it onto the dresser to his right. David’s tie was already untied, but Patrick unbuttoned another shirt button before he leaned in close, inhaling against David’s neck. “My husband.”

“Mm, fuck, okay. I’m on board now.”

“Good.” Patrick sank to his knees. “Because ever since I saw you walking down the aisle, some percentage of my brain was occupied with the thought of doing this.” He reached up under the skirt of David’s tuxedo, pulling his underwear down to his knees.

David pulled the front of the skirt up, wary of soiling it — it was the most expensive clothing purchase he’d made in years — but also just wanting to watch.

Patrick just nuzzled against him at first, and it made David wish there had been time for a shower because he’d definitely sweated a lot over the course of the day, but then Patrick had taken his cock into his mouth and David forgot to worry about it.

“Oh my god, you’re so good at that,” David gasped, his hand coming down to cup the back of Patrick’s head. Patrick worked him expertly, and the sight of him filling Patrick’s mouth while Patrick was still wearing his wedding clothes did something intense for David. He let his hips flex, his cock pushing forward into Patrick’s mouth. Into his husband’s mouth. Fuck.

Then without warning, Patrick’s mouth disappeared.

“Patrick, I’m close, come on,” he whined.

Patrick was looking up at him with those doe-eyes of his. “I don’t know, David. You did already come once today. Maybe I’d like some parity.”

“Oh my god.”

Patrick grinned, standing up. “Can I fuck my husband in this skirt?”

They didn’t manage to get any more clothes off, but they at least managed to make it over to the bed, where thanks to some conveniently placed lube in the bedside table, a few minutes later David found himself on his elbows and knees on those horrible red sheets. Patrick prepped him efficiently, his fingers teasing David’s prostate until he had to bite his hand to keep them from hearing him several doors down. Finally, Patrick pushed inside him with a groan, setting a hard and unrelenting pace from the outset. With a noise that was more sob than anything, David worked his hand down to his cock and stroked himself in time to Patrick’s thrusts. They finished simultaneously, in sync with each other even at this frantic pace.

“Let me clean you up so we don’t mess up your clothes,” David heard Patrick say from somewhere far away.

“Uh huh,” he murmured into the mattress.

“You still want to go party with the girls?” Patrick asked as he returned from the bathroom with a couple of washcloths.

“As soon as I can feel my arms and legs, sure,” David said.

Once they were cleaned up, they flopped down on their backs side by side and looked up at the mirror on the ceiling.

“Thanks for marrying me today,” David whispered.

“Same.”

~~~

2031

David huffed and flipped over onto his other side in the bed, sticking one leg out from under the covers to try to regulate his temperature. He punched his pillow and readjusted it under his head.

Patrick’s voice pierced the near-darkness of the bedroom. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m fine.” He shifted again, curving his spine in yet another attempt to find a position that didn’t make his back hurt.

“Really? Because you’ve been fidgeting for an hour.”

David turned over, wincing. “Sorry, I can go downstairs. I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

Patrick gestured with his tablet. “You’re not; I was reading.”

“Still, I can go downstairs.”

Setting his tablet reader aside, Patrick rolled toward David. “Do you want to have sex?”

David thought about it, shifting onto his back. “I’m not horny.”

“Me either, but I could probably get there if you wanted to. Either way, I could give you a handjob.”

“It’s the way you’ve never let the romance die that makes this such a successful marriage,” David said, reaching over and patting Patrick’s cheek.

“Yeah, I realize it’s not terribly romantic, but it might help you sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can jerk off if I really want to,” David said.

“Yes, I’m aware you’re capable of jerking off.” Patrick started to turn and reach for his book again. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“No, wait. I mean, I do sleep better after we’ve fucked than I do after masturbating.”

“You should write for Hallmark,” Patrick said.

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested a utilitarian handjob as a sleep aid.”

“I never said it would be utilitarian.” Patrick scooted closer to David under the thick duvet. “Let’s make sweet, tender love, David.”

“Shut up.”

“Let’s celebrate the beauty of our multi-decade relationship with some lube and—”

“I hate you,” David said, closing the distance between them and kissing him. His hand settled into the familiar spot on Patrick’s neck, long fingers cupped around to stroke through the short hairs on the back of Patrick’s head. He tasted like toothpaste, and even though they’d kissed thousands of times, David still felt a zing of arousal, enveloped in the sensations and warmth of his husband.

Patrick’s hand stole around David’s hip and under the waistband of his sleep pants, fingers digging into his ass cheek and pulling their pelvises flush against each other. A minute of grinding coupled with more deep, wet kisses was all David needed to go from vaguely interested to fully on board.

“Okay, I changed my mind,” David whispered against Patrick’s lips. “I am horny.”

“Mm hmm.”

“As are you,” David said, punctuating that sentence with another grind of his hips.

“Yeah, there’s just something about being kissed by my husband. I don’t know what it is.” Patrick said in that way he had that was simultaneously sarcastic and sweet.

David fumbled in his bedside drawer for lube, then pushed Patrick over onto his back, shoving his underwear down.

“Wait,” Patrick muttered when David squeezed some lube into his palm. “This is backwards, I was gonna do you.”

“After.” David flung the covers aside and wasted no time in closing his fist around his husband’s cock, setting up the rhythm Patrick liked, alternating long strokes with focused attention on the head while Patrick groaned and clutched at David’s arm. “Want anything else? I can finger you open, or get the vibrator—”

“Next time,” Patrick said, his hips thrusting against David’s fist. “Just this is gonna make me come pretty easily.”

“Yeah?” David kissed him and it was sloppy and kind of desperate, and he wondered not for the first time how they still managed to do this, go from lazy banter to being so hungry for each other they could hardly stand not to be touching.

“Yeah. Fuck, do it harder,” Patrick gasped and David did, squeezing and pumping his fist until Patrick came with a pained moan through his clenched teeth, his hips jerking and then slowing to a stop.

“God, you’re so easy,” David said, grinning smugly as he wiped his hand off on Patrick’s t-shirt. Patrick regained his breath, and then sat up in a crunch and pulled his t-shirt off, wiping his stomach clean and tossing it aside. They switched positions, but Patrick paused before he took David’s cock in his hand. “Would you rather have a blowjob?”

“No, this is good. Although can you…” He trailed off in a moan as Patrick stroked him. “Can you put your fingers inside me?”

“Yeah.” Patrick kissed him on the cheek.

David kicked his sleep pants the rest of the way off while Patrick sat up and helped himself to more lube. Then his hands were everywhere, stroking David’s cock and fingering him open, and David threw his head back and let himself feel all of it. When Patrick crooked his fingers and rubbed against his prostate at the same pace that he was stroking David’s cock with the other hand, David was a goner. He came in such record time that it should have been embarrassing.

“Fuck, you’re too good at that,” David gasped as he reached out a grabbed a fresh clean-up rag from his bedside table.

“I memorized the cheat codes to a David Rose orgasm more than ten years ago,” Patrick called as he was walking to the bathroom to clean up his hands.

“Mm hmm. Well done.” He was barely aware of Patrick getting back into bed and settling the duvet over him, and with his last shred of consciousness, he reached out and touched his husband’s hand.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too. Goodnight, David.”

“Night.”

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #sc s6 #my fic

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thirstaidkitpodcast · 5 years

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THIRST AID KIT | S4E01 | DAN LEVY, SMOKESHOW EXTRAORDINAIRE

Thirst-buckets...

WE MADE IT BACK FROM THE THIRST WILDERNESS!

Some quick housekeeping: we now live at Slate Podcasts, and we are settling in nicely, thank you for asking. We also have a new producer, Cher Vincent (hi!), and between the three of us we have A LOT planned. But let’s get into Dan Levy the smokeshow RIGHT NOW.

So, you may have noticed that we were away for nine months, thirst-buckets, and it turns out that’s the perfect length of time to gestate a precious thirst-baby... and we named it Dan! We have lots to talk about: his forever-coiffed hair, his intense eyebrows, his smirk that makes us want to share secrets with him…

What to love about Dan Levy, a brief list:

His excellent eyebrows, as inherited from his fine daddy, Eugene 👀

His superb sense of humor, as exhibited in Emmy-nominated comedy Schitt’s Creek, of which he is co-creator, showrunner and star (hello, competency kink!)

His kind eyes. It’s a thing; look it up, and seek it out IRL.

His commitment to telling stories that acknowledge the prejudice in the world and then actively choose to portray LGBTQIA lives in a way that does not centre that pain as the only tenet of identity. (that’s hot)

He fine. Like, look at him, FFS.

Some other stuff we discussed in a segment we like to call Hiatus Schmiatus:

The astonishing multi-strand hotness contained in Crazy Rich Asians

Our uncredited cameo in Avengers: Endgame. Also America’s Ass™:

The Hulk’s spectacles-and-sweater situation in Avengers: Endgame aka “Professor Daddy” (™ Nichole Perkins, 2019)

The moment Marcus (Randall Park) pushed Sasha (Ali Wong) against the wall in Always Be My Maybe and we felt the air whoosh out our collective lungs... *bites fist*

You can listen to the whole episode RIGHT HERE (more ways to listen are listed below).

SOME STUFF TO WATCH AND READ, IF YOU LIKE!

Dan explains why there’s no homophobia in Schitt’s Creek

A little bit about the radical queer vulnerability of the Schitt’s Creek characters

That time Dan explained pansexuality to Larry King. Sigh/LOL.

He told Stephen Colbert he loves giving his dad shit. Don’t we all, eh?

This GQ profile, and also this interview in Esquire.

This lovely interview with friend-of-TAK E. Alex Jung where they go clothes shopping.

These photos of him in Out. Bitch.

TO LISTEN TO THE SHOW

-----

We’re on Twitter at @bimadew and @tnwhiskeywoman; the show is on Twitter at @thirstaidkit. Send us your (short! please!) drabbles at [email protected]. Rate and review us on Apple Podcasts, please, because we’re asking nicely and we were told politeness counts? Thanks!

Also: if you’re in the New York area, come thirst out loud with us at a Thirsty Movie Night! On Monday October 7 at the IFC Center, our Thirsty Movie will be is Point Break, starring one of our patron saints, Keanu Reeves, and one of our Sadly Dead Baes, Patrick Swayze. All tickets come with a free large soda, and Slate Plus subscribers get $5 off. More details here. Buy tickets here.

We’re so glad to be back. Thanks for sticking around. 💜🥤💦

#Thirst Aid Kit #Thirst Aid Kit podcast #Dan Levy #Schitt's Creek #David Rose #Slate Podcasts #TAK Pod #TAKPod #Nichole Perkins #Bim Adewunmi

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alsanjxde · 3 years

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Chapter 4

[Y/N’s POV]

Finishing off the drawing I put that on the wall along with the one of Furlan, Isabel and Levi. Exiting the room I see scouts everywhere just chilling around chatting, I decide to go to the roof because I assume that'd be the quietist place. While on my way to the roof I run into Nanaba and Gelgar. "Are you actually not in a slump today?" Gelgar sarcastically asks giving off the 'I'm better than you' vibe. "Who said I was ever in a slump? No one, exactly." I harshly reply not having any of his narcissism "Well anyone would be in a slump if they're two best friends died right in front of them and they couldn't do anything except cry and be a wimp." He blurts out unexcpectedly obviously trying to boil my blood which worked, so I just get the courage and belt him a few in the face teaching him his lesson giving him a nose bleed and accidentally knocking him out. "Whoops." I murmur as I then continued to make my way to the roof in silence. Knowing someone's following me I just keeping going, opening the door I stop "What do you want?" I turn around to see no other than Miche behind me. "I just wanted to come to the rooftop I had no idea that was your intention too. I can leave you be alone if you'd like." He replied calmly which gave me a comforting sensation and the anger Gelgar caused suddenly left my body.

"It's okay you can stay." I open the door more "I saw what happened with Gelgar" He breathed in heavily, "Just try and ignore him he can be a bit of a dick with his narcissistic personality." "Just a bit." I mumble back walking over to the edge to sit down on it and just admire the sky and scenery. Stepping on the edge I almost fall backwards however Miche catches me and just picks me up and sits me on the edge. Well that's, suprising. "Do you ever wonder what life without the walls or titans would be like?" He questions out of the blue making me confused, however I still give a reply "I wonder all the time but then I realise it's best for there to be the walls and titans," Miche looks at me his face full of oblivious confusion. "If it weren't for the titans the survey corps wouldn't of let me and Levi live they would have just killed us off. Plus there are some truly admirable people in the survey corps that I'm glad I met." I end off looking over at him awaiting his reply. "You do have a point I guess. I wonder what it'd be like to be able to live freely with someone I care deeply about or love." Oh he's a hopeless romantic. "That's honestly a nice thought but it'd be the case of finding someone, unless you've found someone?" I say in a slight monotone teasing voice, in response he mumbles something I can't hear and then goes silent. "Oh so you do have someone you love? Good on you." My reply accidentally sounding harsher then it should have. Why am I so agitated he loves someone? Oh well. "Yeah good for me, I just wish they notice." "They'll notice soon I'm sure of it. Anyway are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand there?" I say inviting him to sit next to me he nods and then comes to sit next to me.

For what was hours and hours me and Miche spoke about our dreams and aspirations and other things we didn't know about each other. The sun had already set and assuming the quietness everyone was already in their rooms asleep or getting ready to sleep. I start to feel sleepy but then my belly rumbles. "Are you hungry?" Miche asks while turning to look at me I nod and stretch my arms out roughly so they don't get stiff but I accidentally hit Miche in the face. He just rubs that spot and mumbles out an ouch. "How can you be so strong from just stretching?" He groans out his hand still on his cheek. "Stop being such a wimp." I say sighing out a laugh "Let me see where I hit" He removes his hand and I turn his head a bit by grabbing his chin. "Oh, it's actually left a mark. I'm sorry" He chuckles a bit and then ruffles my hair "It's okay, now lets go get food" Getting off he reaches his hand out to help me down I take it and leap a bit down. Walking towards the mess hall the hallways and outside areas are quiet so it's just me and Miche wondering about. Approaching the mess hall I start to space out thinking about other stuff. "Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked while bending down to see my eyes. "Huh, yeah I'm fine why?" "You sort of spaced out for a minute or so" "Oh. Yeah I'm fine" I affirmed following Miche to get food. "I wish they had a bigger supply of meat" I complain feeling a sudden craving for meat. "Who doesn't?" Miche chuckles out in response to my greediness. "Hey it's not funny that I'm hungry" "No it's not but it's cute." He cooed while looking smug. Did he just- No he didn't. I'm hearing things. I feel my face go red so I just shut up and eat. "You're flustered huh?" I shake my head in response. "Sure your not." I can feel his smirk as he looks at me and then starts to eat. We eat in a comfortable silence while looking at each other every now and again, making my heart slightly race. I like him don't I? No more like I love him. He already has someone else in his mind anyway. I sigh letting the train of thoughts continue while we finish of eating.

Leaving the mess hall we walk close to each other but not to close. "Do you want to chat more in my room it might help make me tired" he just nods and follows me. He's probably sick of me by now. I lower my head down losing hope in any chance I had. We enter the building the rooms are in and he just keeps following me in silence. I don't even know what we could speak about anymore.

We come up to my room and enter it making little to no noise. He looks around the room as if he's never been here and sees the drawings and goes up to them. "Did you draw these?" He questions looking at me with a happy spark in his eyes I nod and smile and explain them. "Well the first one is obviously Furlan, Isabel and Levi hugging each other" "Why aren't you there?" "Oh well I don't really look in mirrors so I have no idea what I look like.." "Oh okay what about the next drawing? Is that an animal?" "Oh that I drawn it this morning actually. I don't know what the animal is though it just popped into my head." He just stares at it in awe as if he's a kid who's seen some candy. "I could draw you something tomorrow if you'd like?" He nods at me vigorously. How can such a large, intimidating looking man be so cute.

"So who's this person you love?" I ask looking at him. He sits there looking at me with shock and starts getting nervous. "You don't have to tell me." He just nods and says "What if I were to say it was you?" HUH? What the hell does he mean by that. I just look directly in his eyes and he does the same to me. "What do you mean..?" I stutter out feeling my heart suddenly race. "I mean that the one person I love is you." He states still gaping his eyes on me. He stands so we're both now standing and then just pulls me into a hug and whispers "I love you" I just slip into the embrace and keep quiet. "It's okay if you don't love me back I just-" I shake my head causing him to look at me confused. I pull my head up to look at him. "I do."

A few hours later and we're chilling upon my bed just sitting there. I almost occasionally dozed off but I kept myself up. Suddenly the reminder that I have to bandage my cuts again I get up off the bed and go and get the equipment. "What are you doing..?" Miche pondered "Oh I'm just getting the stuff to bandage my cuts up again." "Okay." I walk back with the stuff, "I don't want to ask you this but can you help me bandage them up?" "Of course I'll help. Come here" He pats his lap motioning him to sit down so he can help and so I do.

He carefully rolls my sleeves up and looks at them "I'm sorry" He whispered softly and then put he healing ointment on first and then carefully bandages them up and just wraps his arms around me and lies down with me. I turn around in his embrace so I'm facing him and then I look up at him "Thank you" I hush and dig my head into his chest and he kisses my forehead. "Goodnight Love."

(A/N: WOOHOO CHAPTER 4 OKAY OKAY. So I had him confess so early because he's not really seen much in the show at all and I have no idea how long I plan on making this ff and this chapter is really short. But it's something!)

#angst #aot fanfiction #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #fluff #miche x reader #miche zacharias

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sionnables · 4 years

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So…

Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, you guys.

Let me explain something first: the Broadway musical First Date is my SHOW. I mean, it’s NOT-- I had no part in the creation or performance of it, obviously. But it’s “mine” in the way that people tend to take possession of things they like, you know?

“That’s my song!”

“That’s my precious fictional baby!”

Or, I guess, like that weird thing sports fans do when they insert themselves into their favorite team, like, “we need to box out the endzone and get some points on the board” or whatever.

First Date is mine not only because I loved it, but because it felt like the creators reached into my heart, plucked out all my experiences and emotions, and put them up on stage. I mean, it went to TATTOO LEVELS, so you know it’s both serious and a little ridiculous.

Six years later, I still fucking love that show.

(The intensity has gone down a bit, but that’s probably the best for everyone.)

So when I happened to find out that the book writer of First Date was the creator/writer of Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist AND it was a musical, I obviously wanted to check it out. It was delayed slightly by a deep-dive into a Schitt’s Creek hyper-fixation (David and Patrick can have my entire heart and, like, overall existence), but I finally started watching a few days ago.

And it is delightfully First-Date-y.

It’s also a really good “I can’t handle anything too sad or heavy right now due to reality” option. There’s some romantic angst and family tragedy thrown in, but it’s not like This Is Us: The Musical or anything (thank christ-- seriously, how does anyone watch that show? It’s Ugly Cry Central over there).

I’m not going to do the plot summary thing because Google exists. But here’s the thing: yes, there are multiple tropes here that have been done to death (*cough*lovetriangle*cough*), but you know what? The show is cute, the cast is really talented, and the writing’s pretty effing funny. I don’t need groundbreaking television to be entertained. And I’m a sucker for “nice comedy” nowadays, you know? Like, I could never get into Glee because the characters were HORRIBLE to each other. I can’t do a show full of selfish, mean people, it just doesn’t work for me. Give me a well-written ensemble comedy where everyone messes up but they’re ultimately trying their best and growing, and I’m pretty much in.

That all being said, here’s what I need to discuss (spoilers ahead, obviously):

1) Zoey’s definitely got that whole Zooey-Deschanel-adorkable thing going on, but you have to appreciate a show that is like, “STEM Women FTW!” because we need that. Also, maybe it’s Fellow Millennial Empathy, but I appreciate that she has no idea what she’s doing and is still trying so hard to be a functioning and successful adult, WHILE dealing with family tragedy, AND sudden musical powers, AND being a woman in charge of a department full of men (girl, been there done that), AND confusing mushy feelings. It helps that Jane Levy is so talented that I was convinced she was British (she is not).

2) Mo. Is. Everything. More representation of gender-fluidity is wonderful to see, for one thing. But he’s also the smartest character on the show, as well as the most well-balanced and emotionally mature. And his VOICE, okay? I love that it seems like Mo is going to sort of be Zoey’s guide through all of this, and I’m looking forward to seeing their friendship grow.

3) Simon is a gorgeous, gorgeous man. If he was at ALL single, I’d be like, “Zoey, hit that IMMEDIATELY”. But I don’t love the direction that their relationship is going (HE IS ENGAGED, FFS) OR the whole Jessica vs. Zoey thing they’re pulling. I’m willing to give the first part a pass because both of them are grieving and emotional instability can definitely equal bad decisions (we may not like it, but you can’t say it’s unrealistic). But that second part? Simon is way more to blame than Zoey. No more girls hating on girls, okay? Like, I don’t want Jessica and Zoey to necessarily become besties (that whole “it’s always about your dad” comment was way too awful for me to like her THAT much), but you know what I mean. The longer this goes on, the less I like Simon. And it’s such a BUMMER, because I feel like Zoey and Simon could really use each other, platonically.

4) Speaking of not liking people, Zoey’s brother is a dick. Not ONLY because of the shit he pulled with going out to bars instead of being with his PREGNANT WIFE/STRUGGLING MOTHER, but that whole thing about him having to “convince” his wife to have kids when she didn’t want them? YUCK. He’s the one character I do not like at ALL and I hope that Emily leaves him and ends up an awesome single mom with a hot boyfriend. I’m glad Zoey told her what was up. GOOD. WHAT A JERK.

5) Zoey’s mom is amazing and deserves the world. That is all.

6) Full disclosure: I am 100% Team Max. But within that 100%, I’m 50% Zoey Is Clearly Not Ready To Date Him Or Even Process Her Feelings About Him Right Now So He Needs To Just Be Her Friend and 50% Zoey Is Clearly Terrified Of Feelings And Max Might Need To Push Her a Little To Get Her To Get Past That. This is coming from a place of experience, because I was once terrified of feelings and commitment and basically my husband is only my husband because he chose to ignore the many, many times I tried to break up with him and was very persistent with me. Please note that this DOES NOT MEAN that Max needs to be all pissy about “friendzoning” and/or pushing TOO hard, TOO quickly. Which he’s sort of toe-ing the line with, at the moment. I don’t think that Zoey ever really gave him the impression that she was interested in him romantically before the whole “flash mob” debacle (I cringed when Mo said that touching his shoulder and having him come over to watch a movie was leading him on, because please don’t do that, writers, Mo is too smart and progressive for that BS), and the flash mob itself was a really weird, out-of-character move (at least thus far) for him. Look, I get the whole “omg, Max can hear her/no wait, there’s real singing” thing was an unexpected twist, but I’m not a fan of twists over characterization. Max knows Zoey, and I think he’d know that declaring feelings in public while making her the center of attention would not be her thing (but I find public proposals super cringe-y, so maybe that’s just me). I’m sort of not happy with that. What I DO think is appropriate is him asking for some time/space after she asks to just be his friend-- I count that as being respectful of her decision and needing some breathing room to disconnect his romantic feelings towards her. I also don’t blame him for being upset that she knew his feelings way beforehand and didn’t say anything, or for being upset after seeing her sing to Simon. The singing thing is not Zoey’s fault at ALL, but that is some serious emotional whiplash! Nevertheless, I hope these two are endgame and don’t hurt each other too much in the process. That boy will do ANYTHING for her, and I kind of love him for it. Please don’t turn him into a “Nice Guy”! Also, can we all agree that he outsang EVERY SINGLE ONE of the Jonas Brothers with “Sucker”? Goddamn!

7) Tobin is so stupid, but WOW is that character a brilliant representation of every single, straight, young, insecure, emotion-denying, Reddit-using, product of toxic masculinity gamer boy that you’ve ever met in your life. Holy SHIT. They’re nailing it with him. He is 100% the guy that yells a “make me a sandwich” joke in front of his friends and then goes home and cries about not having a girlfriend. I have met 10,000 versions of Tobin in my life and he CRACKS ME UP. Bless him.

8) Leif is Draco Malfoy and I hope that Joan is using him for sex and then ditches him in a humiliating fashion. IF THEY MAKE HER FALL FOR HIM I SWEAR TO GOD. She’s too smart for that. I want Joan and Mo to take over the world together.

9) I don’t want to talk about Zoey’s dad. HE’S FINE. EVERYTHING’S FINE. HE’S TOTALLY GOING TO GET BETTER. THIS IS A HAPPY SHOW.

Okay, I think I got all of my thoughts and feelings out. Until next week, at least.

#zoeys extraordinary playlist #zoeysplaylist #ZEP #this is too long #i apologize #but i mean #we're all stuck at home so at least it wastes some time #mention of a broadway show that i will not tag because reasons

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whatfinemmmarble · 4 years

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what dreams may come (ffxiv)

Summary: A short-ish drabble with my midlander inventor and charlatan, the Great Garrett Brimble, and his long lost half-elezen friend(?)... Set in Lydra Lhan. Mostly SFW but gets a little weird at the end. Sorry. Art by me! Story under the cut!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

It had been a loooooong day in the pixie dreamworld; Brimble, tuckered out from running around, doing manic pixie bidding, settled into a macaron cushion at a peppermint table, letting out a sigh. He picked up a daffodil teacup to peer into it. He wanted a cup of tea, but whatever was in this was likely sugar water.

At his side, a few of the pixies had followed; they took to Brimble as naturally as they did to children, and treated him no differently. It was likely that they viewed him as a child still... albeit, a tall one. He had played here in his youth, after all, and though the pixies were hardly ones for sentimentality, they had grown accustomed to his presence, and he had to theirs. It had been a while since he had just sat in the dreamscape and... dreamt.

"Haven't you got any fun dreams these days, Bumble?" A pixie chirped, hovering near his head. "It's all books, paperwork, inkwells with you-- and even worse...!" The pixie fixed little hands on their hips. "--money!"

There was a reactive groan throughout the fluttering peanut gallery-- the collective struggle to understand what mortals found so appealing about dirty, yucky gil. Why not trade in candy instead? Much more fun. They posited this to him and amongst each other, for maybe the hundredth time... However, he did not have the energy today to explain economy to them, and so he sighed, relenting and taking a sip of the daffodil teacup-- which proved indeed to just be sugar water filled. He set it down afterwards, running a white-gloved hand back through his black and graying, slicked hair, then adjusting his monocle.

"My friends," He started, spritely, "I've spent so much time here, eventually I'll dream of Lydha Lran and make another dreamscape entirely, within a dreamscape. How do you like that? You'll all make friends with your dream selves-- my dream yourselves, that is." This caused quite a buzz. "Not possible! Is it?" "Well, I'd like to meet your dream myself, if I do say so! And I do! Me, this dreamself!" "What if we're already someone's dreamself? What then?" Buzz, buzz. He leaned back, hands folded on his lap, successfully evading a deeper probe into what dreams he might be having, closing his eyes. Truthfully, he didn't really dream lately. He did, once. It was dangerous to dream here-- dangerously embarrassing, that is, but at the present moment, he didn't see any harm in just trying to remember what it was he used to dream about. Such thoughts had a nasty habit of appearing in Lydha Lran, however. His eyes shot open when he remembered just what had plagued him all those years ago-- but as two slender hands slid over his shoulders, he knew it was too late to recall it. The voice behind him was that of an achingly familiar half-elezen, a pretty swordsman he had befriended once upon a time-- the voice was reserved, serious, dignified: "Thinking of me, are you?" Arms slid around his neck, latching on, chin poised on top of his head. "I was wondering when you might." Brimble stiffened, looking up at the figure the dreamscape had conjured. "Ah! Captain! Yes-- though, I find I might be thinking of-- you specifically, the dreamself of the real you, and not the-- you that-- er, that is, I think--" He scrambled to clarify. Then, more softly: “Etienne, it’s good to see you.” Simple. Etienne let go, crossing over to sit down on a licorice bench just across from the inventor. He was wearing his Captain's uniform casually, collar undone, coat draped over his shoulders rather than on properly. He simply smiled and rolled his eyes at Brimble, and continued for him, "The me that lives in your head, as I imagine the real me might have some choice words for you. But-- I have some choice words as well." He levied a brow raise at him. Brimble sighed, resigned again, lifting his hands up in defeat. "Oh, peachy. Even my fantasies have criticisms to lob at me. Well, isn't that grand." "It could speak to what your fantasy is really about." Etienne said, tilting his head. His hair was golden in the light of the dreamscape, and he looked as young and radiant as the day he and Brimble had first met. Fair, freckled, doll-like in his perfection, as his elezen ilk tended to be. "Unless you want me to dress down in front of all these pixies." Playfully. "And children." Thoughtfully. "No--" Brimble said, sitting up, clearing his throat. "No, no, this is fine, no need to... do any dressing down.” He got up, after a moment, crossing to sit beside Etienne. He had no qualms about indulging; at least, as far as he wanted to, for the moment. Brimble could see the use in sorting out how he felt, from a psychological level, that made sense. And, this wasn't the real Etienne, so who really cared. He laid his arm behind him, along the back of the bench, and smiled. "This is fine enough for me. You know, I never got to see you in such a light! It's too bad that you and I hardly ventured out from Coerthas in those days. It would have been a treat to accompany you in some nicer weather." "I suppose. I didn't think of it much." Came the dry response. Garrett laughed and looked away. "That is... a very Etienne thing to say about it, that's for sure..." He trailed off, and picked back up after a pause. "... but, there were worse ways to get trapped in a cave, on a mountain expedition, certainly." "You had it easy. I daresay you liked the cold that day."

"Nooope, no, I definitely think things may have still gone on smoother if it wasn't miserable out. You’d be hard-pressed to convince me that getting stranded with you would not have been remarkably improved by a day as beautiful as this.” Etienne smirked. "What would you have done differently?" He asked, watching Brimble, intently, tucking his hair behind one subtly pointed ear. "That day?" Brimble feigned being in deep thought, stroking his chin. "I might not have let you catch me so off-guard." "As in...?" "Well, this is still my fantasy, isn't it?" He looked over at Etienne. "It is." The halfborn was remarkably proficient with his responses. Without another word, the inventor slid his arm around him, and leaned in for a kiss, taking his jaw in his palm, guiding. Etienne kissed back, long lashes fluttering shut, and though he was just Brimble's fantasy, he reacted much the same way his real world counterpart had, accepting the midlander's affection eagerly, a near desperation in him. He had loved him, and he had so wished to love a man that would not have chosen his career over him once more; an innocent wish that Brimble had not loved him in return enough to fulfill. Brimble knew this, and so, it was easy to picture this dream Etienne doing as he asked, submissive, lovesick, and he had no trouble at all lowering the half-elezen back against the length of the bench, and began to pull away at his tie. ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ A/N: Thanks for reading! (btw i’m on balmung if any ff peeps are lookin for rp!)

#ffxiv #ffxiv balmung #ocs #short stories #rp #roleplay #Garrett Brimble #Etienne Barrel

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ancient-artificer · 5 years

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My Roommate is an Asshole.

Gajevy Week 2019 - Fairy Tail

You can find these collections and more Gajevy prompts on FF and Ao3 under CapAleran2.

Storyline: “Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong. What?” Her voice trembled with the last word.

The only available apartment in the complex had been accidentally rented to two different people.

GW: Roommates Suck #1 - My Roommate is an Asshole.

Well. This was certainly unexpected.

The situation was far less ideal than what was promised to Levy. She had signed the official papers the day before fully expecting a nice, comfortable little space for cheap rent, paid utilities, and on-site laundry. It was absolutely perfect. Or had been up until a few minutes ago.

“Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong. What?” Her voice trembled with the last word.

The only available apartment in the complex had been accidentally rented to two different people.

“What the fuck is this shit?” The sudden, loud rumble caused her to jump in place. His baritone voice was rough. It sounded as though he was a smoker.

With watery-rimmed eyes, Levy turned around to see him shove his copy of the legal document in the manager’s face and hold it there to force him to look at it through his square glasses. The menacing scowl deepened as his voice lowered with enunciated words.

“Fix it. Now.”

Levy found herself silently agreeing with the man, although his demand was downright frightening. Despite their obvious differences in word usage, they did have one extremely large issue in common.

“Ah, w-well, you s-see,” the scrawny man stuttered. He fidgeted under the intense, angry gaze blazing down on him. He touched the frames in front of his eyes. “I can't- there's nothing I can d-do about it. Legally, I mean.”

The taller, well-built man's arms twitched and Levy was immediately concerned that there would be an assault if the situation wasn't remedied. And quickly.

She stepped forward, careful to avoid any contact with the other apparently irate tenant and asked, “What do you mean, legally? There's really nothing that can be done for us?”

The complex manager broke free of the hold on his shirt and righted it on his shoulders. He threw a tentative glance at the other male in the office before answering.

“There are two official documents stating that each of you is now the tenant of apartment 2B, submitted the same day by two different employees. Apparently, there was a miscommunication in the availability.”

He pulled out a file from the grey filing cabinet against the back wall. Within were the separate contracts both had previously signed. Levy McGarden and Gajeel Redfox were written on the signature lines.

“A miscommunication? Is that what you're calling it? I'd say it's more of a royal fuck up on your end than anything,” Gajeel spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

His choice words and their intensity grated against Levy's psyche. Her hazel eyes briefly shifted to him in mild annoyance.

“Given that there are no other vacant apartments and the deposits have already been made, the only thing I can suggest is maybe... try to live there together. Peaceably, preferably.”

The manager winced after he spoke. He looked at Gajeel and hoped the desk that stood between them was large enough.

Both Levy and Gajeel reacted simultaneously.

“No!”

***

“Yes.”

Levy held her phone to her ear and assured her friend that she was okay. She absentmindedly tapped her finger on the top of her water bottle in the cupholder. “I'm sure it'll be fine,” she said confidently.

“But he's a guy. And one you don't know,” Lucy countered. Her voice sounded unsure.

“Yea, well he's, he's…” Levy paused.

She turned to look out of her driver's side window to see Gajeel sitting in his jeep a few spaces over. He punched the steering wheel a few times. It looked like he was talking to himself.

“...he's different.”

“Mmhmm.”

“We will just have to make the best of a bad situation. I doubt he'll be that bad. The office runs background checks before they consider who can apply.”

“If you say so.”

When she said goodbye to her friend, Levy grabbed her new apartment key and headed for the stairwell.

It was enclosed inside the brick building, which would be ideal in colder weather. A vending machine for both snacks and beverages stood at the far end and marked the entrance to the laundry area. It was all just more checks on the list of good things the complex offered.

She smiled when she saw her appointed number and letter on the brown door. The apartment was neither too far from nor too close to the stairwell. She probably wouldn't hear the other tenants coming and going, especially at night. It also meant she would have a quiet place to read and write with the windows open on the nice warm days. Inserting the key and giving it a turn, Levy happily entered her home.

The distinct new carpet smell welcomed her. A tiled floor by the door gave way to the beige carpet. Through a foyer-like space was the large front room. A half wall separated it from the kitchen. All the appliances were there on the countertops, ready to be used. Beyond that were a hallway, the bathroom and the two bedrooms.

She gazed around, mentally picturing where she would arrange the furniture, where she would place her bookshelves and her pictures. What did this Gajeel have to bring to the table to add to their shared home? Until she knew, she couldn't plan everything out quite yet.

Her hands clasped at her chest around the key, a contented sigh escaped through her nose in the quiet.

A rough bang on the half closed entry announced the presence of another. The abused door flew open to hit against the rubber stopper on the wall. Gajeel trudged in carrying a full cardboard box the size of a small microwave. A stuffed black backpack clung to one of his shoulders.

He briefly halted a few paces ahead of his unexpected roommate, his head swung around like on a swivel to survey the empty place. He didn't even give Levy a second glance as he asked, “Why've ya just been standin’ there?”

Levy's dry lips parted. No words formed. Her wide eyes slid down his tall, broad form, from his uninterested expression to the box cradled between two massive arms. He was terribly intimidating; if he had wanted to he could have snapped her petite body in half with minimal effort.

She blinked.

Gajeel left her still standing in the middle of the living area to check out the bedrooms. The toe of his black boot pushed open one and then he disappeared inside.

Out of curiosity, Levy deliberately peered in from around the wall. It was a spacious area. There were three windows that illuminated the entire room without the need for the overhead light.

The box and backpack had been set on the carpet. He was standing in the middle under the light fixture, his head turning as he seemingly looked around at nothing but the walls.

Levy kept silent as she spied. Hazel eyes moved from his shaggy mess of thick black hair to the triangular shape of his neck and shoulders.

He hummed to himself and turned his body towards the far wall, his back faced her. Large hands found the waistband of his jeans and rested there. “I think it'll fit,” he murmured.

“What will fit?” Levy asked with sudden interest.

She felt like she was intruding, but they were set up to share a small apartment. There was bound to be some future privacy issues. She shuddered and hoped they wouldn't be too crowded.

He responded as if he had known she was there watching all along, saying, “My drum set.”

Levy's heart sped up the moment she heard. Her vision of quiet, relaxing evenings was shattered with his nonchalant words about a musical instrument. “A drum set?! Like an actual big, loud drum set?”

“Relax Shorty,” he drawled. He was still standing there with his hands perched on his hips. “It's electric. The sound's through a headset.” He tapped the side of his head.

Her eyes fell, half-lidded with displeasure. Why did he call her that? She crossed her arms. “I'm not short.”

“Sure,” he dismissed with a scoff. His attention was elsewhere. Somewhere in that big -but sort of handsome- head of his. Whatever was in there.

Her apprehension subsided a bit with that knowledge that he would have a headset. She glanced towards the other bedroom and wondered what it looked like beyond the closed door. Her peripheral detected a shift in the light, and she felt more than saw Gajeel brush past her. His arm knocked hard into her shoulder as he turned the corner in the narrow hall.

“Hey,” she announced. Her hand came up instinctively to lay on her collarbone. Her mouth set into a firm line. Her eyes bore a hole in the back of his head. And he just walked away? He hadn't even said sorry.

When he didn't stop, she frowned and put effort into it. “Gajeel!” she yelled.

“What?” He asked in annoyance with an enunciated ‘T’. His boots planted there on the living room carpet and he slowly turned to look at her, his palm held up in the air.

Words that Levy had been ready to let loose on him swiftly left her at the sight of his chilling frown. Instead, she dumbly stood exactly where she had been. Was it fear? Was she apprehensive because of his dark looks or his fearsome and reckless attitude?

“Um, I- uh-”

His pierced eyebrow rose.

Levy stuttered. “W-what are you doing?”

She inwardly cringed. Why couldn't she think of something else, something better to say? That was it? She could confront assholes on the street more easily than this particular one. Her mind was completely blank.

“I'm going to bring my shit up here,” he replied steadily. His tone was notably close to condescending. “What else is there to do?”

And then he simply left the apartment, not bothering to touch the open door on his way out.

With a long, silent huff, Levy quickly shook her fist in the air after him, her anger turned to frustration. She pulled the door closed and headed down to the parking lot after him. Like Gajeel, she too had things to bring up from her car. The rest of the furniture was in the back of a small trailer.

On her way out of the building entrance, Gajeel passed her carrying another full cardboard box, almost running into her once again. It was as if he didnt see her at all. His focus was on the stairs before him as he ascended.

Levy's frown deepened and her mouth fell slightly open while she stared. A tiny sound escaped her throat. What was with this guy?

A sense of dread began to fill her stomach. Maybe she would have to find another place. But then if she did her current deposit was forfeited. She couldn't afford to shell out another moving fee and deposit.

Groaning, she did the only thing she could think of at that moment and start officially moving in. All of the items she had fit in her car she comfortably toted up to the apartment. Unlike her new roommate's, her things went directly to her bedroom, set along the back wall to make room for the bigger items later.

It was small. Smaller than the room Gajeel had claimed. It had built in bookshelves on either side of the doorway, which was a pleasant surprise. But what it lacked in initial space it made up for in a large walk-in closet.

When she strolled out from the hall, the carpet was littered with his junk. Her lip wanted to curl. Was he a slob? Random crates and rickety boxes overflowing with Gajeel's personal items. Mostly clothing, though there was a laptop, music devices, and a distasteful calendar that Levy covered over with a rogue jacket that was draped over the side of a box, among other things.

Her gaze landed on a blue milk crate full of books. It was set apart from the rest, on a haphazardly placed brown end table by the hall's light switch.

Gajeel was a reader? From what she’d encountered so far, Levy would have never pegged him. There really was more to someone than outward appearance.

Gently picking through the books, she found that most of them were classics. Their hard covers were worn from use, the pages creased on the top corners. None of them had bookmarks. She had to tell him not to dog-ear his books like that.

“What’re you doing?” his rough voice announced in question.

The three books tumbled from her hands to fall in a heap by the table. His unexpected voice had scared her. “Um, I was just looking. Sorry,” she began as she bent to pick up the downturned books. “I love to read so I just…” Trying to find an excuse, her lips fell silent.

He considered her for a moment, the drawers to a dresser occupying his arms. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. His mouth shut. He didn't seem angry, but Levy was cautious.

“Don't ya have yer own things to get?” he calmly asked instead. His red eyes gave her a once over before settling back to her face.

Relief rushed through Levy at his civility. “Yes, but I was waiting for you. I need help. I've gotten everything that I could manage myself.”

He humphed and continued about his business, taking the drawers to his room. When he re emerged some seconds later, he gestured to her without slowing down. “Alright. Come on.”

Without needing to be told a second time, Levy followed her roommate.

“It's the trailer there,” she said once they were in the parking lot. A silver trailer was parked in the back. After they emptied it, she would have to notify for its pickup.

“I kinda figured,” Gajeel commented. There was only one moving trailer on the lot.

“Right.” Levy bit her cheek. Her eyes flickered up to him.

His lips were twisted, as if he was trying not to smile. He turned his head away, seemingly interested in a few birds flying overhead before she could be sure.

Standing by the ramp, Levy let him walk in and start picking things to haul out. She watched with her arms crossed over her chest as he picked up a large, clear tote of notebooks, pencil pouches, and various books with a grunt.

The sound of something rolling around inside abruptly stopped as he presented it, most likely a loose pen or pencil. His eyebrow rose and he looked at her.

“I like to write, okay?”

Her lips slid into a grin when she watched him shake his head and his confused expression give way to his own version of a smile.

Soon only her mattress and the bed frame, her bookshelves, dresser, and a long desk were the only things left. She had no idea how she would have gotten them out and up the stairs without his help. The only reason they were in the trailer to begin with is she had had help in moving out of her old place.

He took most of the weight, letting her steer them once they hit the stairwell. His patience with the desk had nearly expired when they hit the wall as they maneuvered the corner, causing the desk's edge to punch into his stomach.

“Lift it, Levy,” he commanded, looking up at her from the bottom. The legs were scraping the steps.

“I am.”

She threw her weight upwards only for nothing to happen. The wooden box drawers were on both ends, making it nearly impossible for her. They should have taken them out before they started the trek, but they couldn't now in the narrow space.

“Yer doin’ it wrong,” he roughly accused.

“How am I wrong?” She answered back just the same. One of her hands came up on reflex, her palm upwards in irritation.

He lowered his head as she spoke and blew out a quick breath in his own annoyance. He lifted his end once more, but when he did, the corner caught the brick wall, effectively halting his progress before it could really begin.

His body continued right into the stationary edge.

Bouncing backwards from it, Gajeel doubled over. A pained growl rumbled from his chest. His mouth formed around a word, but refrained from spitting it out.

“Oh my gosh, are you ok?” Levy blurted. She let go of her end of the desk.

“Get out of the way,” he ordered. Anger -probably more embarrassment- simmered in his eyes.

She did so and watched with astonishment as he gathered himself and hauled, lifting the long piece of furniture with a deep grunt. He was fast enough to use the momentum and all but throw it and himself up around the corner.

The desk was now set for a straight path up the rest of the way and to their apartment.

Levy was immediately grateful that she had Gajeel for any heavy lifting.

Giving a breath, he turned to her. His eyes were now impassive. “Can you get around it?” He asked.

Levy hummed. There was a few inches of space between the desk and the brick wall, but she knew she wouldn't be able to fit. “Only a kid could squeeze through there. But, I think I could climb over it.”

Gajeel simply stood to catch his breath and let her do what she had suggested. In amusement, he placed his hands on his hips and watched as her tiny form scrambled up and over the smooth tabletop. Her jean shorts accentuated her curves and her plump ass stared squarely up at him for the briefest of moments.

A grin spread on his face. He let himself look, but kept his hands on his waistband.

Once they were at their apartment with the desk safely in her bedroom without further incident, they shut the front door with a sigh.

The place was an absolute wreck. Nothing was organized and nothing was in a convenient setup. The couch was shoved halfway in the kitchen with her clothing totes upon it. There was one visible walkway through the living room to the hall, the rest of the floor and furniture was littered.

Levy was thirsty, but the box containing kitchen utensils was somewhere buried under the mess. It would take them a few days to sort everything out. “What do you wanna do for dinner?” she asked aloud.

“I dunno.” His voice was muffled. It sounded a little distant as he worked on neatly plugging in the tv and game consoles at the outlet behind the big flat screen. “I don't care, do what ya want.”

“You don't have a favorite place to eat?” she asked.

“I'll eat anything, just pick something.”

Levy hummed. “Chinese? There's a place a few blocks from here.”

“That's fine,” he replied, and then popped up triumphantly. He turned on the tv. On the screen was the console main logo. Without turning to Levy, he said, “After we eat, ya wanna try out yer new tv?”

Looking up from the restaurant's menu on her phone, she saw the screen as he punched in his passcode. The more she looked at the set up, the more she felt out of her element. “I don't know, I've never really played on one…”

“Really, well yer gonna learn tonight.” Gajeel cleared an area of the floor a few feet from the tv stand and abruptly sat down. He kicked off his boots and quickly took off his grey shirt, leaving him in a white tank. He picked up the controller.

“What about the mess in here?” She lifted a hand and waved it at all of the things brought up and thrown in no particular order as if showcasing a nice car on display.

Gajeel made a sound with his mouth. “We're gonna be here for at least a year. We can sort it tomorrow. Give yer'self a break.” He added with an afterthought, “Does that Chinese place deliver?”

“Uhh.” She scrolled down on her phone. “Yes.”

“Order it for delivery and then get over here.” He let a genuine smile slip up on his face. He set a black controller beside him as if to save her a seat.

Her own smile appeared as she ordered their food. Then she picked her way through their junk and slowly sat down beside him. He was at ease and relaxed as he started to explain a game he thought she would enjoy. When he presented an eye creasing smile, his red eyes warm, she found herself begin to mirror him. Maybe having a new roommate wouldn't be so bad...

#gajevy #gajevyevents #gajevyweek2019 #gajeel x levy #fairy tail #ftfanfics #ft #gajevy fic #ff.net #ao3 #andycap #andycapiswrite #gw19.1 #roommates

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snkpolls · 5 years

Text

SnK Chapter 113 Results

The chapter poll closed with 1,355 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

RATE THE CHAPTER 1,319 Responses

While still highly rated, last month’s chapter was a hard act to follow. The number of 5 ratings were down nearly 17%.

I find myself getting waaaaay religious whenever a new chapter comes out

Floch is annoying, Gabi is annoying, Eren is annoying, but I can't wait to see where this all is heading.

I could feel the ground shake and hear Zeke's agonizing screams and almost, almost really felt for the poor guy, falling victim to something worse than the angel of death itself.. gosh, I don't think a manga ever gave me such goosebumps before..well done Isayama, well fucking done.

Everytime I think Floch has reached the maximum level of assholery, he ups the game to inconceivable levels. I still can't believe poor Marlowe had to die for this.

Can I have a break from suffering? Thanks.

Forget opening a tea shop, Levi should open a sushi bar instead

Seriously how about Levi just go solo the whole world and win because he's so damn OP and save all Eldians and just end the story in the next episode

JUST TELL ME HOW ZEKE AND EREN MEET ALREADY!!

WHAT WAS THIS CHAPTER’S MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT? 1,331 Responses

It was hard to choose a favorite moment. “All of it” was the top pick (21.5%) followed by “Levi’s face when he resolved to kill his comrades” (17.1%). Third place was “Levi slicing Zeke’s feet and legs” (10%). Levi’s Angel of Death moment was the most popular write-in. In retrospect it should’ve been included as an option.

Levi looking like a goddamn Angel of Death.

Nothing I am invested in happened this chapter, but Levi emerging from the trees like an avenging angel was pretty cool!

This is the First chapter where I have trouble choosing one Option. This was a real rollercoaster.

Levi kicking Zeke’s a** is quality entertainment

Kinda bummed by this chapter, though it was good. As a Mikasa stan (lmao) I was looking forward to seeing her post-emotional destruction, but we didn’t see her face vs. the rest of the 104th which makes me think she isn’t crying, but has gained some resolve and will pull open the bars or some shit. Also FUCK Floch.

Thank you Levi for finally ripping Zeke apart.

CHAPTER 113 IS CALLED “SAVAGERY.” WHICH CHARACTER DID YOU THINK BEST EXEMPLIFIES THIS TITLE? 1,322 Responses

Close to 70% of the fandom believes Levi was the most savage this chapter. Floch was a distant second (18.2%). The most popular write in was “All of them!”

I think the title "Savagery" does refer to Levi, because I think he can be the monster he needs to be to survive. And I love it.

Paradis island. The whole chain of command is out of the window; the residents are becoming savages (those who drank wine becoming mindless titans, trainees beating up Shadis, Yeagerists promoting anarchy, etc.) They are becoming literal savages (they're all sociopaths because they're a little more savage than others lul)

Keith Shadis & Floch would be the obvious choice. But I interpret the title as describing the overall savagery of war, as seen in all the different parties.

Walls were built to protect titan from Levi, amen

While it very much could be a direct description of Levi's brutal actions aganist Zeke, I believe everyone engaged in this conflict is being savage one way or another by inheritence, as war in itself is savagery.

Zeke did nothing wrong. Levi did nothing wrong. Floche is the worst.

SINCE HANGE AND PIXIS HAVEN’T SPOKEN, HOW DID PIXIS KNOW ABOUT THE WINE? 1,321 Responses

Most respondents (42.8%) believe that Pixis does not know about the wine specifically, but deduced that Zeke's scream had something to do with what happened. 24.8% believe that he is just a smart dude, but 23.2% think that he might have been tipped off by Yelena.

Pixis knows alcohol. He knows when something's up.

Imo Pixis , Eren and Zeke are all working together , so Pixis gained knowledge of the wine from Eren , although after he drank it.

He was willing to surrender to the Yeager brothers, maybe Zeke or Kiyomi told him beforehand.

P A T H S

SINCE IT’S BEEN CONFIRMED THAT PIXIS AND NILE HAVE CONSUMED THE TAINTED WINE, DO YOU THINK THEY ARE DESTINED TO BECOME TITANS? 1,325 Responses

While the majority is unsure (42.7%), more than a third (34.4%) believe Nile and Pixis are destined to become titans. Only 22.9% think they will die another way be just fine.

I really hope Pixis doesn’t become a Titan I’ve always liked him.

I think that Zeke has a plan, probably he wants that Levi takes him to Sina with the Paradis high commands (Pixis, Nile, etc) to use his scream with they to turn them to titans. We saw in this chapter that Zeke's scream doesn't work with enough distance, that's the reasson that Zeke wants to go with them.

LEVI HAS LOST ANOTHER SQUAD, THIS TIME BY HIS OWN HANDS. HOW BADLY DO YOU FEEL FOR LEVI? 1,327 Responses

79.4% of people responding to this question: Levi lost his entire squad (...again). He didn’t lose 20% of his squad. He didn’t even lose 50%. He lost his whole squad (...again). Look at what it’s done to him. You can see the death in his eyes, but he keeps on going. This is why Levi is one of my favorite characters.

If I have learned nothing else, I have learned that the world has destined Levi to be a soloist. Every time he has a squad something goes wrong.

Man, Levi's face was just pure resignation. He knew he had to, once again, he had to take lives in order to protect others. Gut wrenching, but just completely real.

Ffs, just let Levi retire. Like, look at the PAIN in his eyes when he remembers the conversation with his subordinates. It's even worse when his expression changes to "knowing exactly what to do".

I think he will be correct that everyone’s deaths amounted to nothing in the end

That panel if Levi falling while all his comrades are trying to kill him; this guy can't catch a break

THERE’S BEEN SOME TALK IN THE FANDOM ABOUT LEVI BEING TOO OP. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 1,333 Responses

53.3% of the fandom agree that Levi is OP but they are a-ok with it. 20% thinks he’s powerful and not OP at all. Only 10.3% of respondents indicated that Levi’s extreme power hurts their enjoyment of the series.

It doesn’t matter to me that many think Levi is OP; whether you agree with that or not, come on, give Levi a break. He at the very least deserves a happy ending after all he’s been through

Levi is too overpowered. I didn't want him to die here but at least I want him to have a more difficult fight. Him getting a serious injury for example. Every fight he had he didn't even get injured (except against the FT and that was because of Mikasa). This is one of the reasons that for me Levi is a VERY boring character.

Levi destroying Zeke was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. I think he stands a fair chance against Eren if he still has thunder spears.

Seeing all the Levi hate, because of the ""OP"" thing was kinda unexpected and annoying to me lol Without Levi's help for example in the female titan or RtS arc wouldn't be some characters where they are right now *cough* Mikasa would be dead *cough* I think Zeke underestimated him and that's was the deal at least.

Not sure the arguments about Levi being too OP make much sense. He was in the forest of giant trees, which has already been established as the best environment to use 3DMG. I really thought Levi was toast after last chapter just because Zeke utilizing the element of surprise, but I forgot how strong he was. Good to see him in action again.

I know a lot of people have had issues with Levi being too OP or with Levi being too cruel uwu but ffs have we forgotten who this man is? Levi fucking Ackerman, who is *supposed* to be OP af, who has the curse of having one of the worst fates in the series. Seriously, everybody around him is dying, he was born in a shit world that just keeps getting shittier, and he is no close to that pristine tea shop than he ever was, possibly ever will be. Sure he's Hella strong and survives all his battles with barely a scratch, but does it give him a happy life? No it fucking does not.

Levi isn't OP you guys are just mean

LEVI=GOD

DO YOU THINK LEVI’S QUICK DEFEAT OF ZEKE WAS UNREALISTIC? 1,332 Responses

Just over half the fandom (50.8%) say no, Levi’s quick defeat of Zeke was not unrealistic. Only 8.6% answered “Yes” to this question.

I know 90% of the Fandom has a hard-on for Levi but I wish the fight with zeke was more even.

Levi's fight against Zeke was fun but at the same time it felt like some sort of repetition of him fucking Zeke up back in RTS (I guess that was part of the purpose, lol), so it ended up not being very appealing to me after a couple of days.

Being Intelligent and being Smart are different things and yes Zeke might be good at planning strategies but he is a dumbass when it come to fighting and understanding other people.

Seeing Levi vs BT 2.0 gave me some serious highs. Was literally shaking while reading the leaks. I just realised how Levi truly is the perfect foil to someone like Zeke. The world could be crumbling, but give Levi any task, and you can trust him to deliver it 99.9% of the times, with the 0.1% being but the benefit of the doubt.

BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER, WHO HAD YOU THOUGHT WOULD WIN THIS ENCOUNTER? 1,327 Responses

At nearly 40%, a majority of respondents thought that Levi vs Zeke Round 2 would be a more even fight than their first encounter, with a close 34.7% thinking that Levi would prevail again. Only 21.1% believed Zeke would win.

Anyone who thought Zeke had any chance of facing Levi and winning mano a mano (even with titans) is not reading the same manga I am.

The "Farewell, Heicho" leak made me think Zeke won.

I thought Zeke's plan wouldn't be enough to kill Levi, but enough for him to escape. I still wasn't surprised lol.

If it came down to a straight battle, I knew Levi would win because we've seen him win against greater odds. The difference is that I didn't think the encounter would become a straight-up battle so quickly, I assumed Zeke would have some other distraction or escape plan other than literally just yeeting out of the scene

I hoped Zeke would escape or Levi would at least struggle instead of Ackerhaxing his way through 20+ Titans and still managing to catch up to an escaping Zeke and effortlessly defeat him, but no.

The outcome was fairly expected considering all the factors that stood in Levi's advantage (big ass trees, thunder spear, zeke's miscalculationsTM/underestimation...etc) so I wasn't surprised when he easily whooped his ass.

Bolting away while screaming was such a solid plan. I'm shocked it didn't work.

IF ZEKE HAD EXPLAINED HIS PLAN TO LEVI, DO YOU THINK THERE’S A CHANCE LEVI WOULD’VE UNDERSTOOD? 1,327 Responses

42% of respondents think it’s possible that Levi might have been open to Zeke’s plan, but equally possible he wouldn’t have listened. Nearly 40% are certain that Levi has no interest in anything Zeke has to say. A small 13% of respondents think that Levi would have been open minded if open communication had been present.

whether Levi would have "understood" the Jeagerbros' plan is irrelevant. I think Levi still lives by "make the choice with least regrets" and so would not have changed his mind, even if he had understood their motivations.

Poor zeke , Poor Levi , we wish Levi will understand zeke's point of view...😔😔

WILL LEVI FACE NEGATIVE CONSEQUENCES FOR STOPPING ZEKE AND DELAYING THE YEAGERBRO’S PLAN? 1,324 Responses

Half of respondents believe that Levi will not be able to bask in his victory for long before the story throws him another wrench. 30% aren’t sure if he will or not and 15% are confident that Levi’s victory is solid and will be rewarded.

I believe Levi has now somewhat of an advantage over the Yeagerists as he's holding the key and core to their plan captive, without Zeke the plan just won't proceed. Unless Eren suspected something might happen to Zeke and has a plan B up his sleeves, Levi has the upper hand now, and he can easily finish Zeke off any second. If he were to encounter Eren & co. on the way there's no doubt he'll use Zeke as a bargaining chip. I'm exceptionally excited to see how things will play out between them.

God I hope not, but knowing Yams, something terrible awaits Levi after the brilliance of this chapter.

not sure but SERIOUSLY people need to stop with the lies and secrets.

I think something we're not expecting might happen.

Why would he? If there are any negative consequences coming his way, it is because he didn't kill Zeke . Zeke seems like the type to come up with double plans -- for example, Levi could unintentionally be leading Zeke to his meetup with Eren.

I wouldn't say "negative consequences," but he definitely stalled their plans. Considering the fact that no one other than the two know what those plans are, I feel like Levi's victory over Zeke would allow some space in the story for these "plans" to finally be revealed and explained, whether it be to the characters in the story, or to us readers.

Zeke can regenerate anyway so I think he might get away with it

I'm afraid for Levi. He did what he did to Zeke with the best intentions, but I fear he's now inadvertently ruining the plan the brothers had so carefully orchestrated. I'm afraid he's gonna face Eren in a next chapter, who's going to do everything to prevent his brother from being eaten.

WHERE DO YOU THINK LEVI IS HEADING? 1,317 Responses

Historia’s Farm was the most popular option with nearly half the vote (49.7%). Shiganshina was second with 20%. In retrospect we should’ve included Rakugo as a potential destination since the theory that he’s heading there to feed Zeke to Connie’s mom is gaining popularity.

Historia's Farm or Ragako

Levi's smart enough to figure out there were probably more individuals on the receiving end of the tainted wine. With that in mind, he'll be very cautious with where he goes to ensure no more transformations occur.

Unless he has some titan serum in his pockets going straight to Historia would be a bit pointless. Meeting with Pyxis first seems likely.

Taking Zeke to Shiganshina or anywhere where everyone else are is too risky. Zeke could get away and pull out his screaming card and shift onto his beast titan form.

The horses don't seem to be moving. So maybe he's just chilling out in an open field

To Erwin’s grave

Dear snkpolls. How about cutting out with this unfunny Zevi bullshit for sociopaths and including real ships some people actually like instead? I mean pairings. Not the actual ships. I don't want Titanic in the next poll.

Honestly, the Zevi getaway option gave me a much needed laugh after the chapter.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT LEVI’S SLICE AND DICE OF ZEKE’S LEGS? 1,330 Responses

A tiny fraction (3.1%) of the fandom was upset or disappointed with Levi’s actions, the rest were fine with it. “I don’t blame him” and “cruel but understandable” comprised the thoughts of 70% of the fandom. 20% wish Levi had done even more.

I thought it was unnecessarily cruel and completely in-character for Levi. God I love this man

He didn't want Zeke to transform, what's so difficult to understand?

Honestly I’m not sure why zeke was so surprised that Levi came out alive lmao. Like he’s literally seen - up close and personal - what he’s capable of. He’s humanity’s strongest ffs.

I get it and it's hard to say there's not a little justification, but I think it's a very natural human response to wince at ANYONE suffering enormous amounts of pain. Most of us would cringe even if we were witnessing Hitler himself being tortured, no matter what we might think right now. It's just a natural, innate reaction to human suffering.

Unnecessarily cruel and it's gonna bite him in the ass.

I have not been able to eat celery since

DID ZEKE’S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE AFFECT YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT HIM? 1,328 Responses

44% of respondents were not swayed one way or another about their stance on Zeke after hearing more of his perspective, while 29% continue see him as a total enigma. 23% have started to see Zeke more positively.

Zeke shows he lacks fundamental understanding of human compassion

BABY ZEKE LOOK AT HIM ISAYAMA WHY DO YOU DO THIS

Zeke is officially an idiot and Eren is a bigger one for trusting him above his friends.

I kinda don't want Zeke to have some tragic background. Zeke as the series Joker who just wants to see everyone destroy each other no matter who they are, that is a far more interesting direction for me than more of the same 'Marleyans aren't evil, just misunderstood' rubbish that we have been force-fed for over a year

Zeke deserves life, love, and his glasses.

One other thing that really pleased me in this chapter is that Levi managed to give a reply to each of Zeke's annoyingly patronising statements. Zeke has always made me furious with his ""aww you naïve creatures, you don't understand"" bit, and I adored the fact that Levi actually shut him up while he fought him. About goddamn time someone shut up that monkey.

Zeke worrying about his glasses is a big mood because as a fellow glasses wearer, I would do the same

DO YOU BELIEVE SHADIS TAUNTED THE NEW RECRUITS IN AN EFFORT TO PROTECT THEM/HANGE? 1,329 Responses

A huge majority (74%) agrees: Keith Shadis is a good dude, and wanted to protect the recruits and/or Hange with his boast. A minority (7.6%) believes he severely overestimated himself (oof), while everyone everyone else (18.4%) was not sure.

I didn't before, but I do now, you monsters!

Respect for Shadis for what he did.

Also, somebody please kill Floch already.

Shadis deserves only good things

Shadis is sick, anyone who says he isn't is trippin

I wish Shadis had head butted the shit out of Floch

I can't believe that Shadis roasted Floche to a crisp and sent him to the Burn Unit lolololol

YOUR THOUGHTS ON FLOCH ARE BEST SUMMED UP AS: 1,318 Responses

Floch will not be winning any popularity contests in the near-future, with 67% of respondents selecting the most negative options: that they want him to burn (44.5%), or that they just simply love hating him (22.5%). In contrast, only about 10% of respondents view Floch favorably: 3% say they are fully on his side, while 6.4% still reluctantly support him.

A character such as his is destined to die while Eren looks at him emotionless. Eren doesn't give a shit about him and this little boy will learn it the hard way. He's a prime example of the "brainwashed, vengeful" character who dies a horrible death.

He's just a pawn. I have no feelings for pawns.

I'm really sad that Shadis got pulverized, but do still think that Floch is trying to help Paradis the only way he knows how (even if a tad misguided).

Floch is correct about needing to be more proactive, but he & Yeagerists are going about everything the wrong way. I do not support the Yeagerists.

Shadis' assault was absolutely unnecessary and savage for all the wrong reasons. Floch is basically on a power trip here and it was sickening to read. I hope he dies a slow, painful death, that dickwad.

I don't think there's a definitive answer as to who's right here. Marley's coming and if Eren is the right leader, then fine. But it's not given.

I hate him, but wonder if he might have a point

I wish someone would use P A T H S to rip the fabric of their reality open and that that would lead to Mount Doom, just so they could then toss Floch's ass into it. That would be great, thanks.

Now I'm not saying anyone is truly evil in snk... but Floch is sprinting in that direction so fucking fast.

WHICH CHARACTER(S) DID THIS CHAPTER MAKE YOU FEEL MOST SYMPATHETIC TOWARDS? 1,320 Responses

Levi easily takes first place this time around after losing yet another squad, this time at his own hand. He’s followed by Shadis (did he really deserve that, Floch??), Hange, and the rest of the 104th. Zeke’s short flashback garnered some empathy as well.

Levi, Zeke, Mikasa, Armin and the 104th, Hange, Shadis, Every single character in this chapter. Even Floch and the cadets.

I feel a lot of sympathy for Falco, waking up naked in a robe in front of strangers. What, they were in THAT much of a hurry?

I feel sympathetic to all of them - even Zeke a tiny bit. This whole thing is a clusterfuck of mamoth proportions.

Zeke might join the list, but depends on next chapter, I need his flashbacks to give me a valid reason to why I should sympathize with him, which I think they will as his past looks just as crappy and angsty as the other characters'.

Levi, Zeke, Mikasa, Armin and the 104th, Hange, Shadis, Eren. He looks miserable even though he's SOOO FREEEE~

IN LAST MONTH’S POLL, ONLY 17% OF RESPONDENTS BELIEVED THAT EREN IS IN CONTROL OF HIS ACTIONS. WE WANT TO KNOW IF THIS CHAPTER CHANGED YOUR OPINION. WHAT BEST DESCRIBES HOW YOU VIEW EREN’S CONTROL OF HIS ACTIONS? 1,324 Responses

The percentage of respondents who believe Eren is fully in control of his actions jumped from 17% to 23% this month. 29% percent still believe that he’s fallen victim to a combination of Zeke’s manipulation and previous titan holders’ memories. 16% remain confused and don’t want to make assumptions either way, 14% believe that the titan power is controlling Eren, and a small 8% actually think it’s the other way around and that Eren is manipulating Zeke.

I think what he said to MA is ultimately to protect them, but like Connie said - the eren we’ve seen since Grim Reminder 2.0 in Liberio isn’t the eren we once knew.

Eren is and always has been kind of a jerk. I think he's 100% free to make his own choices. However, I wouldn't discount the idea that the memories he's inherited and whatever selective knowledge Zeke has imparted are influencing those decisions. They're in no way forcing him though. This is all 100% organic Eren BS.

He is being only influenced by the previous titans, which is messing up with his mental state. This causes him to make decisions not regarding human life out of wanting to fight for freedom.

Eren is the master manipulator! Mark my words, guys!

Zeke and Eren are both misguided. Perhaps the rumbling is a lie, or they have a plan that only they would get, but I suspect that the rumbling isn't a simple concept, just like Marley and the Helos story.

Eren is definitely being influenced by previous titans. After he consumed the hammer titan some changed about the way he acts.

He's definitely not being controlled by Zeke, but I still think there is something off/wrong with him.

Eren's doing what he thinks is best for his people, and chose this path based on the memories he gained, the experiences he's had, and the information he's come to know. Its possible some of this information was skewed by Zeke, but other than that Eren is in control

I personally believe he is being influenced by the many titan powers he holds as well as the many memories of the people that held these titans before him however, I believe that these powers are not completely dominating him and he’s able to make his own decision. Eren is also probs not being manipulated by Zeke as I believe that these two bros will stay together.

Influenced to an extent but still in control in that the various factors we're considering has warped how he thinks the situation should be handled. I feel like Eren thinks his unpredictability gives him the most control because he'll probably try to do what's most advantageous on the fly as forks in the road appear (because he never really struck me as someone who can spearhead planning ahead). He's in control of his actions but I think he's still incredibly susceptible to manipulation by those who can plan as a result.

DO YOU THINK EREN IS REALLY WORKING WITH THE YEAGERISTS? 1,322 Responses

Half of respondents believe that Eren is actively working with the Yeagerists in order to achieve a larger goal. 17% aren’t convinced he has anything to do with them aside from tagging along on their road trip. Almost 10% of respondents believe Eren will eventually backstab Floch and isn’t on their side at all, and 9% feel that Eren has been the one giving orders all along.

Maybe he is, but I still have some hope for him that what he did was to protect the people he loves. I hope he still cares about them.

Eren is using them (he doesn't give a fuck about them) and the Yeagerists are using Eren. Eren will backstab Floch. I don't think Eren's aware of everything Floch's doing while using his name but, at the same time, if Eren "cared" about what they do he would ask/wonder... he's too dead inside for that tho

I hope he backstabs them but damn am i confused and a lil angry about this situation

Whether he is working with them or not, he did nothing to stop them but rather act as their leader and that makes him partially responsible for their actions.

Dammit Eren you better not be behind Shadis' beating, he's a good man

I have this feeling Eren doesn't really give a titan's ass whether they're on his side or not, as long as Big Bro got his back he will carry on with the plan either way. They sort of just formed this faction on their own but Eren isn't stupid not to take advantge of that. After all, who knows what might happen and keeping his own small army at arm's reach sure is helpful. But Eren did mature into this very prideful and confident rebel with that "aint need nobody bitch" attitude so.

They seems to be a different faction led by Floch, and Eren is exploiting this.

I think he is working with Zeke (whether they have the same end goal or not is something I’m not sure about) but I don’t think he is working with the Yeagerists and doesn’t even fully know about them or what they are doing

Zeke and Floch are on one side and think they are working with Eren. Eren is currently working with them solely as a means to reach an end and will go his own way after they initiate the rumbling.

PREDICTION TIME!! WHO IS MISTER XAVER? 1,328 Responses

Almost all respondents (81.9%) speculate that Mister Xaver is the holder of the Beast Titan that preceded Zeke, and 25% believe he was affiliated with Eren Kruger in some way. 21% think that he is a family friend of the Jaegers, while 8% believe he was an actual member of the family. There are all sorts of other creative ideas floating around about who this bespectacled mentor figure might be:

Titan Scientist

Pitcher and pinch-hitter for the Liberio Warhammers.

Zeke’s father figure

Zeke's only childhood friend

I think he’s the person who inspired Zeke’s plans

A member of the royal family

Kiyomi and Kruger's ally in the plan to restore Eldia in order to destroy Marley, hated by the three of them

I think he might be an “Ackerman” or someone from the Hizuru clan that secretly remained in Liberio to watch over the members of the royal family there (Dina, then eventually Zeke as he grew up). I also think he was working with Kruger to “groom” Zeke for the ultimate plan that is beginning to unfold now in the most recent chapters (whatever that plan may be idk) (just as Kruger’s influence and memories “groomed” Grisha, and perhaps Eren for what’s happening now as well) P A T H S.

Xaver runs a school for mutants.

PURE SPECULATION, BUT DO YOU THINK XAVER INFLUENCED ZEKE TO TURN IN GRISHA AND DINA? 1,324 Responses

Just over half of respondents believe that Xaver had some influence on Zeke, and that influence contributed to his choice to turn his parents (and the other restorationists) in to the Marleyan government. 33% are not sure, while ~16% believe that Xaver had no hand in that decision.

It would be interesting to see Zeke's flashback, I think you could be onto something, that Zeke himself is a victim of childhood indoctrination, and was manipulated by Xavier (a true honorary Marleyan) to turn in his parents and be loyal to Marley. He clearly thinks of him very fondly, and he seems to be the only one confirmed to be in Zeke's good books. He may or may not be the former beast titan, but I think that however he died is a major reason and key to understanding Zeke's current actions and main motive.

Since he has been shown comforting Zeke after he snitched on his parents, their relationship obviously goes way back and it drives me to think he was a close family friend/relative whom Zeke found some kind of comfort in to battle the neglect, pressure and brainwashing of his parents. From the final panel it doesn't look to me that Xaver wanted Zeke to become a warrior at first, hence probably why he infuenced him to turn in his parents, but obviosuly sth happened that changed that. I do believe he's the ex-BT, even if he wasn't, surely his death was a major factor in why Zeke decided to become a warrior. Dang it I should stop writing nonsense I just wanna KNOW WHATS UP WITH THAT MONKEY MAN

WHO DID IT BETTER? 1,326 Responses

Almost half of respondents thought both our Ackermans brought the thunder equally! Levi, however takes the title this time, with 31% choosing him over Mikasa when it comes to blowing up titans. 18.8% thought she still did it best.

OUR TRANSLATORS APPEAR TO HAVE BEEN CHANNELING STAN LEE. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE SFX FROM THIS CHAPTER? 1,300 Responses

“Splat” edged out “ba-BOOM” for the win with just under 20% of the vote. “BSHHT” was third and “baKRAK” a close fourth.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPING TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER? 1,330 Responses

These last few hard hitting chapters have amped up the pace of the story, and most people are looking forward to further plot progression. 46.2% and 42.7% are hoping this comes are some sort of flashback related to Zeke or the Yeager bros, respectively. Historia and the warriors bring up the rear, and there’s always people hoping for something more specific in the write-ins:

I miss Reiner and Historia...bring them back please.

this chapter lacked a significant amount of Reiner, and i am tired of not seeing him

I'd take an entire chapter of Levi chopping Zeke up, please

Show me my Mikasa!

Missing Option: Mikasa, Armin, and the 104th

Literally a thought from Eren.

Gabi and Eren Talk

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ Give Annie ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Someone killing Floch. Anyone. Please.

Let it be contain one panel of the best girl Yelena 😭

Prison break for the SC and equipping the 3DMG in preparing to battle

More Floch Greatness. All Hail The New Eldian Empire!

I can safely assume next chapter will be 75% Zeke flashbacks which is what I've been waiting for.

JUST GIVE US ANSWERS ISAYAMA!!!!!

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 1,286 Responses

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER?

Floch needs to — and I can’t stress this enough — die an unholy death.

Zeke should not have grown his facial hair back before all his skin lol

A very aptly named chapter, where there is savagery and violence, without glorifying or romanticising the brutality. Violence obscures understanding and communication, as seen with the inability for Levi and Zeke to understand each other, despite them being more similar than they realize. Levi kills all his titanized comrades but he is emotionally and mentally unravelling — it is not true victory, only loss and fading of hope. Floch’s violence through abuse of power only breeds cruelty and the reiteration of oppression — it is not true revolution, only regression. Zeke and Eren’s actions intentionally bring war upon Paradis — it brings death and destruction. And yet violence is necessary - it is an unavoidable truth in a world that refuses to listen, only fight, because of fear. The themes in this chapter have so many layers to them; it was a tough one to read because of how dark and brutal it was, but very thought provoking. As readers we look forward to action and fight scenes, but here Isayama deliberately and skillfully delivers it in such a raw and uncomfortable way.

Floch will forever be Manneke Pis. Shadis has been through enough. Eren is hot but needs to die. Falco needs some clothes. Where was Gabi? I fear for Historia's unborn child. Warriors when?

Regarding Zeke, seeing him tear up while thinking of Xaver hurt me a little bit. It's one of the few times (the first time, even? not sure.) that we've seen him show any strong attachment and fondness (and borderline remorse) with regards to his actions. He isn't the "absolutely evil" character in this series.

This kind of chapters are like "ok" to me but frustrating as hell. It will be nice to see it animated in 2030 nonetheless.

I still thinks Eren is a jerk but i still love him. Plus: Floch can be canceled i don't care. Plus+: I want my babies Armin and Mikasa free of the jail, They don't deserve that crap from Eren.

I think it was a waste of time if I'm being honest. We learned nothing new other than from the few pages with Zeke.

I think this chapter made me realise that I don't really care about Levi anymore.

I waited until the last day to fill this poll out because I honestly don't know how I feel about this series right now. While there's plenty of entertainment to be found in these recent chapters, I don't think I really like the direction the story has taken. I'm bored. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I was surprised to see people genuinely being concerned about Levi surviving after the last chapter/when spoilers were dropping. Levi got plot armour thicker than a tank. He already took out a whole row of titans at far worse odds. He wasn't going to die.

I'm excited for what's coming. I wanted a high stakes story and I'm anxious, but in a good way. Still giving Eren the benefit of the doubt, he has to have info that he's not sharing (from having the memories of 3 titans).

I'm so dead inside due to having an awfully emotional week of being very sad about Zeke and celebrating the survival of Levi. I love both of them so much, this chapter exhausted me greatly.

It was nice to have a more action-packed chapter this time around, I've been missing those. It looks to me like at least half of next chapter will consist of Zeke's childhood flashback, then after that I would like to see Historia again. Please Isayama it's been half a year I miss my queen! :((((

Oh my god Xavier yes yes yes I thought Isayama had completely forgotten about the “mystery man”

I'm so glad Levi won and got Zeke tied up! Now Armin's got to find a safe way to do a titan jailbreak! Hange needs allied more than ever!

No Pieck, no party. Things are just heating up, and it’s still somehow a shitshow?

It's nice to know that characters such as Levi exist in a very morally grey world, and that of all the people given extraordinary powers and abilities, it's someone with that kind of mindset. It makes me feel positive that the series would end in an overall good note, even if this may include some heartbreaking deaths and turn of events.

I liked finally seeing a little more inside Zeke's head.

THIS is how you subvert expectations. Introduce that Levi is watching Zeke back in 106 and doesn't trust him then, and then showing their conversation in 110 to further building the tension. Because of the reveal of Zekerets and that Zeke had been working with Eren as well as the fact that Levi won his first encounter against Zeke - it makes sense from a storytelling standpoint for Zeke to win his next encounter against Levi. 112 plays into this expectation due to Zeke's sudden attack on Levi with a cliffhanger heavily suggesting that Levi would die. Instead 113 was the complete opposite, with Levi utterly decimating Zeke and making the story take an unexpected curve. This chapter is brilliant.

The story is progressing extremely fast right now. The Endgame arc is approaching its climax with all the players taking their stance in preparation for the Ragnarok…

Floch needs to be taught not to miss around with adult affairs that are way beyond his basic childish comprehension. I don't hate the guy but I will be satisfied to watch him shit his pants in a fiasco made of his terrible life choices.

okay but when will best boy jean finally read flock the riot act

there is no transparency in this arc, only suffering

#snk spoilers #snk 113 #snk poll #snk polls #poll results #snk chapter 113

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