#Marcel Galliard x Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

farewellstarstuff · 7 months ago

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Can you do more Marcel Galliard? Still modern AU but during his twenties and soulmate au, how will he react and how will he approach her? Especially if she's a complete opposite of him, reserved, quiet and spend most of her days in the library?

Marcel Galliard | modern soulmate au

summary: Marcel Galliard x fem!reader, modern au, soulmate au (what happens to the body of one person happens to the body of the other: injuries, bruises, scratches, tattoos, etc.)

wc: 3.2k

Marcel doesn't like it. He doesn't like the fact that everyone is gossiping about him. He doesn't like that a lot of girls are sighing because of him. He doesn't like that some of them secretly dream that he is their destiny. Oh, and he also doesn't like that the person he can truly love is tied to him by some higher power. Soulmates, is that what they call it? He hates that he can't even get a tattoo – it will stay on another person's body. And he's ashamed in advance. He's ashamed of every scar he received during the matches, for every clumsy fall. And he's ashamed of that stupid scar that the kitchen stove left him too.

Marcel has never seriously thought about finding his soulmate. It was not a principle, it was not a goal. Unlike his brother, who went to numerous tricks to find his destiny, Marcel just… was. He was just Marcel Galliard.

What does it mean? He played soccer, spent his evenings at the bar with the guys, worked part-time at an amusement park, and honestly didn't know what to do with his life. Football used to be the meaning of his existence, but now he didn't even know what he wanted.

And at a critical moment, when everything seemed meaningless, as his mother had said in childhood, fate decided to throw him a gift.

The family dinner scheduled for the evening was abruptly canceled. Their mother got into trouble at work and, running away from home, she asked Marcel to warn his brother that everything was canceled. Where could Porco be found at this time? Not at home, that's for sure. Not during the pre-exam period. So, Marcel went to the place where his brother was supposed to be. To the library.

Throughout his years of study, Marcel had been there once, but Porco hung out there with friends all days. Whether it was Pieck's fault, or just the younger brother's desire to be smarter than the older one, Marcel didn't care. But now the library seemed to him… cozy? Rows of tables, old books on equally old shelves, dim lights and absolute silence. Marcel himself didn't understand how he stopped in front of one of the shelves, captured by the most collapsed book. It must have been at least 100 years old.

"Be careful, it's a rarity. If something falls out of it, your head will be twisted off," came from the side, which made Marcel flinch violently. The book in his hands swayed, but he managed to grab it before something terrible could happen.

A quiet exhale. Marcel looked up and froze. He probably looked like an idiot when he stood there with his mouth comically open and his eyes as wide as possible. She was like... wow. He couldn't find the words to describe her. Comfort, home, warmth – the only thing that flashed through his mind before he realized that he was openly staring.

"Sorry?" he answered sluggishly, returning the book. The girl smiled out of the corners of her lips, taking a step back.

"There's nothing to apologize for, just be careful," and she disappeared among the rows of books. Marcel stared blankly at the side where she was standing for a few more seconds, and felt a silly smile spread wide across his face.

He seems to have found something to do for the life.

But it wasn't that simple. The guys, with whom Marcel shared this wonderful story the very next day, just grinned. The girl wasn't from his usual social circle. She was always seen alone, never in company. There was no point in talking about parties or loud get-togethers.

She was different. Quiet, modest, detached. All she seemed to do was read and spend time in the library.

“You don't have anything to catch with her, look for someone else,” they kept saying, but Marcel had already decided. He wanted to know what was so amazing about this girl. He was indescribably attracted to her, and this was more important than the opinions of numerous friends.

Marcel wasn't used to thinking for long. Much more important for him were actions, sometimes stupid and unjustified. Where did she go most often? Who did she talk to? What did her social media look like? Her hobbies, interests, and outlook on life have become a real obsession. But to get to know a person better, you need to communicate with them one-on-one. And Marcel decided not to put it off.

There were many reasons for going to the library, and he took advantage of every one. He acted without a clear plan, the only goal was to get closer.

They bumped into each other a week later. Marcel came across her in one of the reading rooms and froze. He didn't know what to do or say again. So he just pulled back the chair and settled into it with some kind of textbook. He pretended not to pay attention, although it was difficult to sit still without action.

"Do you come here often?" It suddenly burst out of him after some 2 minutes. The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, barely looking up from her reading.

“Hello? Almost every day, if I'm not busy," she gave him a quick glance and immediately returned to reading. "You're definitely not a frequent visitor here."

"Why do you thunk so?"

"You're an athlete, you have other priorities," she nodded at his sweatshirt with the logo of the football team and hurried to lower her eyes. Marcel looked surprised. One might even say offended. He was infuriated by such judgments. He was never stupid.

"You're wrong," he said, putting down the book, and leaned forward. "Let me prove that not all athletes are complete cretins and dumbasses."

"I didn't say that," she seemed to shrink under the bright flash of Marcel's emotions. He felt instantly ashamed, but it was too late to turn back.

"But you've thought about it." Marcel's face changed, the crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, and he brightened up. "Why don't you like athletes?"

A risky decision. She thought about it. She put some paper in a book, put it aside along with a pencil, which she had been nervously clutching in her hand. This sudden сonversation partner would not leave her alone.

"I didn't say I don't like them," and a slight smile. "Are they… you? You're cool, you do your job, everyone loves and adores you. It's just that intellectual work is more valuable to me than kicking a ball around the field."

"So you wouldn't fall in love with an athlete guy," Marcel drawled to himself and immediately hurried to shut up. The blush on the face opposite abruptly turned from light pink to more aggressive one.

The girl chuckled, returning to the book. Marcel seems to have hit a dead end. Not knowing what to do next, he decided to switch to a backup plan: escape. He took his book with him and buried face in his phone. And after a few minutes of silence, he slid off his seat and hurried to the exit.

"Who knows?" she drawled faintly after him.

Marcel did not hear this, nor did he hear agreement with his question. He also didn't want to admit it to himself, but his ears were on fire and his heart was pounding fast in his chest, clearly telling him something. And he didn't want to miss this "something" at all.

Month. Marcel was restless for a month. And he behaved, as Porco said, completely out of his character. He spent hours poring over books, skipped workouts, and abandoned his usual ways of relaxing. No bars, alcohol, parties in large companies and drunken brawls, as it was before.

But that's what Marcel didn't give up on – cooking. It helped him to relax, to find time to think about something abstract.

As he sliced cheese for homemade pizza, he wasn't thinking about the thickness of the slice or even the fact that the knife was too close to his fingers. He was thinking about what they had discussed with that girl yesterday. They saw each other too often, she never left his head for a second. That's why he did everything he could to be there for her.

They sort of bumped into each other on the way out of the library – Marcel was coming from a part-time job, she was going to return to her place after another study session. He didn't mention that he had been watching her for a couple of days before, finding out the time when she was coming home. It looked scary, but there was no other way. Surprised by the meeting, he offered to walk together.

He saw her off and helped her carry a couple of books. And if he tried, he wouldn't remember what they were talking about. But he would definitely have remembered her eyes, looking either with interest or with incomprehension, the shine of her hair in the light of lanterns and the tenderest of smiles.

She was talking about some kind of test, about the conflict of the characters in the book she had just finished. Marcel was joking incongruously and felt his heart beating in his throat. In his place, any other guy would have walked her to the door and, taking advantage of one of the awkward pauses, would have kissed her for sure. And then – according to the standard scenario.

But she wasn't the one to pull off this scheme with. She was a real gem, so unusual. Marcel suppressed his indignation. Yes, somewhere deep, he might have wanted everything to be simpler. To her to be open, less complicated and inaccessible. But it was selfishness. And Marcel pushed these thoughts away. She was complicated, but he wasn't a gift either. But he firmly believed that at one moment their opposites would still attract. By all rights, this should have happened.

"Ouch!" the knife didn't go through the cheese. The wound wasn't deep, but it was unpleasant. Marcel applied a band-aid and forgot about it.

The next day, he noticed that his new friend was slightly grimacing, holding a book. And then he saw a cute pink patch on the index finger of her left hand.

"What happened?" he nodded his head towards her hand. She just waved it away.

"My soulmate is a real disaster," she shyly pulled the sleeve of her hoodie over her fingers so that Marcel wouldn't stare at them like that. Such attention from him was nice, but still not worth it. "I usually had bruises all over my body, or worse. But recently he stopped getting hurt so often, a couple of bruises in a month and here's a scratch."

"Your soulmate is definitely lucky," Marcel chuckled. "I don't think you're causing him much inconvenience."

"Sometimes it seems to me that fate threw some athlete at me just to laugh," she shrugged, settling herself more comfortably. Marcel chuckled, remembering their first conversation. Of course, she wasn't talking about him now, but about a certain fate. And that was probably a shame.

And only after saying goodbye, on the way home, Marcel stopped abruptly. A slight chill ran down his spine. He slowly raised his left hand and stared at the tiny scar on his index finger. In the same place where she had a band-aid. It can't be. It was just a coincidence.

But the obsession wouldn't leave him. All those times when Marcel found himself with small bruises were spinning in his mind. They were all frivolous, rather random. There was always every little thing that was normal for a quiet, not very active person. She was like that.

But how to check? To harm humself purposefully meant to harm her too. It was too disgusting of him. The idea came naturally, and Marcel decided not to give it up.

They agreed to meet at a coffee shop near the city center. To sit and chat in a new location. Moreover, Marcel tearfully promised that it definitely wouldn't be a date. Necessarily. She agreed only after his promises.

Still, Marcel was still an athlete, he hangs out with the cool guys, and she was just worried. They talked for quite a long time. He showed himself to be a good one, he turned out to be smart and reasonable, he was able to listen and analyze people. He also understood lots of psychology topics, and in many ways he opened her eyes to things. He saw the world in a different way, and that was what attracted her to him. Not to mention an excellent sense of style (not football merch, not that), beauty and charisma. He had a lot of it. But the inner fear of being deceived was high. Therefore, she still treated him with caution.

They took a seat at the back of the room. As usual they discussed the latest news, and the pause dragged on. She was looking at the busy street, at the interior, and he was staring at her. He had completely forgotten about the coffee, which had been set aside at the very beginning of the conversation.

"Your favorite book?" Marcel suddenly asked, leaning forward. Elbows on the table, hands locked, chin on top. And the most open look. She thought about it for some time.

"The most? That's for life? There's one," she named it, briefly walked through the plot. The delight in her words, the interest, the sparkling eyes. Marcel would have listened to it a thousand times just to see her so excited.

When she was distracted by a sudden call, he hurriedly added the title of the book to a note with the laconic title "her" in his phone. He put it down again. Their meeting was interrupted by something from the outside. She apologized to Marcel, promising that she would try to repeat such a meeting later.

She cheerfully waved goodbye to him and ran away. Marcel moved in the opposite direction, towards the bookstore. He found her favorite book quickly, and spent the whole night reading it, highlighting quotes and meanings. He hardly felt cheerful in the morning, but he was more happy.

Porco, who ran into him at breakfast, stared in amazement at the burnt scrambled eggs on Marcel's plate.

"Are you sick?" Porco asked, touching his forehead.

"I think so," Marcel waved his hand, without looking up from the phone. He had a busy day ahead of him. He had only one thing on his mind.

"Your teammates asked yesterday when you would return to them," Porco carefully looked at Marcel's face, but saw nothing but the same pleased face. "Marcel! Are you even interested?"

"So far, I'm worried about something else. I need to find a soulmate right away, otherwise I'm going to go crazy," Marcel said without changing in his face. Porco gasped for air. Marcel? Soulmates? Something strange was happening to his older brother, and he didn't understand it.

"Good luck with that."

"You're quieter than usual today," she gently touched Marcel's hand, drawing attention. He slowly raised his eyes.

They met at this coffee shop again in a couple of days. They had been sitting together for half an hour, but there was nothing but a hug on his part. The silence was comfortable, but she felt that something was wrong. Either something terrible happened to him, or he was just tired. Or maybe he just didn't want to talk today.

But the night before, they had spent several hours discussing a recently released film, and he was quite talkative and wouldn't let her get a word in. But now it's nothing. It was annoying.

"Yeah? Maybe," he shrugged. He was holding the same book she had told him about. He was trying to figure out what exactly had hooked her about it. He also showed off a little. I am attentive and caring, I hear you.

"Is something wrong?"

"With me? No, it's fine."

And silence again.

She tried to return to the task she had been doing before, but she couldn't concentrate. The letters did not add up to words, the meaning passed by. She seemed to be thinking only of Marcel and the strange change in his behavior. It would have been better if he had been foolishly joking and interrupting again. It's better than this silence, anyway.

She slammed the laptop's lid shut and set it aside. Marcel, attracted by such abruptness, hurried to put down the book. All his attention was focused on her. But from the look in his eyes, it seemed like he was expecting something. She sighed, trying to find something to hold onto to start a dialogue.

"I'm sorry, I forgot myself last time," she smiled, glancing at the book that Marcel had put down a minute earlier. "What's your favorite book?"

"Wow! Have you started thinking of me as a normal human?" Marcel pretended to be very surprised. She lowered her eyes, nervously fiddled with her fingers.

"I thought so from the beginning," she muttered to the side. "A stupid person wouldn't be so persistent. And he certainly wouldn't be an interesting conversationalist. You're comfortable."

"I'm flattered," he pretended to cover himself with hand, like a lady from a chivalrous novel. She laughed back, covering her face with her hand. And at that moment, he saw that there was something vaguely resembling a tattoo under the long sleeve of her t-shirt.

"Wait a minute! What is it?" He pointed his finger towards her right hand, and she beamed. But Marcel's heart began to pound somewhere in his throat. Really?

"I forgot to tell you. My soulmate got himself a tattoo with a quote from my favorite book. There are such coincidences!" she rolled up her sleeve to reveal the entire tattoo.

Marcel wanted to laugh. He pulled off his hoodie in one motion and stayed in his tank top. There was an identical tattoo on his right arm, in the same place. She gasped. Marcel's smile widened even more. Apart from the noise in his head and the pounding of his own heart, he couldn't hear anything else. She smiled nervously, leaning closer. She ran her fingers over the tattoo, tracing the letters.

"So we met," he laughed anyway, opening his arms for a hug.

And those hugs turned out to be much better than he imagined them to be. Gentle, tremulous. He could feel her heart pounding. She laughed softly into his shoulder, hiding her tears of happiness. Marcel lightly kissed her temple before nuzzling her shoulder as she did.

"This is the most unexpected plot twist of all," she whispered, pulling away.

"I'd say classic," he shrugged and slowly bent down to her face.

Seconds of contemplation, an attempt to memorize every little thing, every mole and wrinkle. Her eyes, still shining, stared openly into his. He slowly bent down and their lips finally met. A slow, soft kiss, without unnecessary stress and fervor, brought Marcel back to reality.

She answered him. It was all true. When he pulled back to look at her again, she pulled him into a new equally sweet kiss.

Marcel has finally found the meaning of his existence. To be with her. To be close. And he was happy.

#aot #attack on titan #aot marcel #marcel galliard #shingeki no kyojin #marcel galliard x reader #aot fanfiction #snk

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kaigarax · 2 years ago

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Take 42

Marcel Galliard x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love through an unexpected action."

Love, to Marcel Galliard, is a willingness to put your life on the line for someone else. It is an urge to throw oneself in the line of fire for another - to care for someone so much that you’re willing to put your own wellbeing aside. Falling in love, however, is a sacrifice.

To fall in love is to dedicate yourself to another person. It is giving someone else every opportunity to hurt you, yet every opportunity to fill your life with joy. Falling in love demands that someone sacrifices part of themself for another, and falling in love as a Warrior demands even more.

Still, what can be deemed a greater act of love than sacrifice?

A light humming filled the room as Marcel scribbled down yet another of his signatures. The days in which he spent locked up in his room filling out paperwork was steadily increasing - the fact that he was on a ‘trial’ for Vice War Chief was most certainly the cause of that. It was nights like this that made the brunet wish that he hadn’t accepted the role and had let someone else take the reins. Then again, the next best person for the job was likely you.

It was easy to understand why the higher ups would choose someone like you to be the vice war chief. Then again, it’s hard for someone to not be biased when they love you - especially if they love you as much as Marcel.

The first time Marcel realised he loved you, he was only eight years old. To be honest, he wished he had realised his feelings for you sooner. He always blamed the fact that you had to inherit a Titan ability on himself. If he had been able to convince you to leave the program the first day he met you then perhaps the two of you wouldn’t have been consigned to a fate as set in stone as the fate of a Titan Shifter in the first place.

While the boy wasn’t very familiar with the idea of love at first sight, he knew for certain how it grew. For him, love was a slow and steady feeling inside of one’s chest that grew over time. It grows until it reaches a point in which you can no longer imagine living your life without that person in it.

You were that kind of person in Marcel’s life.

“Knock knock.” Someone called from his doorway. “If you stay here any longer, I’m going to lock up the facility with you still inside it.”

All of the dread that had been building up inside of Marcel quickly disappeared when he noticed it was you who was standing in the doorway. Despite your indifferent tone, the look in your eyes was playful and light. Marcel knew that as soon as he smiled at you, you would return it.

“You really came all the way out here just to tell me that?” A grin pulled at Marcel’s lips. “You really do care!” While you may have rolled your eyes at the male’s response, Marcel couldn’t help but notice how your lips curled into a smile of your own. He always thought your smiles made your features look softer - cuter, even.

You walked forward to Marcel’s side and leaned over his desk. “You’re still reviewing the conscription forms from the beginning of the week? The commander has been asking for these all day.”

“I know. It’s just, I’m having a hard time getting through them all by myself.” You gave the male a certain look - one that caused him to stutter. “I-I’m only halfway through my trial period. I’ll be an efficient paperwork machine by the time the end of the month rolls around!”

“Right…”

Marcel didn’t really like the way your gaze fell, but he quickly distracted himself by slamming his hands onto his desk. “Alrighty then, that's enough of that for today! Let’s go home.”

---

“I bet you didn’t even know it started snowing a few hours ago.” You commented as you walked alongside the current Jaw Shifter. “I’m almost jealous of how much attention those pieces of paper are getting out of you.”

“I’m not.” Marcel laughed and you laughed with him. The air outside was cool against Marcel’s burning hot skin. He could only assume that you were experiencing a similar sensation. It had been a while since he’d gotten to enjoy cool air like this. Though, he did think that if he wasn’t a Titan Shifter his tune would change. “Are you cold?”

“Not really. Titan Shifters have an elevated body temperature so-”

“-we don’t get cold like normal people do.”

“-we don’t get cold like normal people do.” You gazed at Marcel with a look of surprise that quickly turned into a slight pout. That kind of expression never ceased to make Marcel grin. “Don’t go anticipating my answers to your questions! I won’t have anything interesting left to say at this rate.”

“That’s okay. I love listening to you talk regardless.”

“Do you really?”

“Of course I do. Promise!”

You turned away from Marcel, giving the boy the opportunity to hold your hand with his own. He’d gotten familiar with the burning sensation - so much so that he actually liked it. Plus, acting like this always seemed to catch you off guard. No matter how many times he held your hand, you’d always blush and lean in towards him.

You suddenly turned and met Marcel’s gaze. The way you smiled at him always made his heart flutter.

“Do you remember how, back when we were still Warrior Candidates, you had the gull to throw a snowball at Porco?” The brunet wondered.

You nodded. “Yes, I remember it well - especially because you always like to bring it up whenever it starts to snow. You haven’t secretly been planning to take revenge on me all this time, have you?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’m just waiting for you to let your guard down.”

You laughed, and Marcel laughed with you. As young as the two of you may be, it was these kinds of moments that Marcel looked forward to the most.

Marcel has always known that being a Warrior meant putting aside your own personal desires for the sake of the greater good. Whether or not ‘the greater good’ aligned with someone’s own ideals didn’t matter. It was simply a matter of doing what you were told.

So it was only at times like this that the current Jaw Shifter could unapologetically be himself to the fullest, and he hoped that you felt safe enough to do the same in return.

“Don’t you think the stars look beautiful tonight?” The Jaw Shifter wondered.

You shrugged. “I prefer sunsets.”

“Always you and your sunsets.”

“Always you and your… everything really.”

Marcel shot you a mischievous grin. “My everything? Like what, specifically?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?” Marcel nodded to your question. While you may have rolled your eyes, your grip on Marcel’s hand tightened. “You love a lot of things. You love making footprints in freshly fallen snow. You love the first and last bites of your meals even if they’re one in the same. You love cuddling up beside me even if it’s in the middle of the summer. You love taking care of the people closest to you…”

“Don’t forget the most important one.” The Jaw Shifter teased as he nudged you slightly. When you didn’t respond, he gladly answered for you. “I love-”

“I’m taking over the position of Vice War Chief.”

Marcel’s footsteps came to a sudden halt, and yours followed suit soon after. “What do you mean? My trial period isn’t even over yet, so why would they…?”

“It wasn’t their decision, it was mine.”

“But why would you make a decision like that?”

“Would you prefer I tell you the truth, or tell you a white lie?”

“The truth, obviously.”

You nodded and took a deep breath as you took both of Marcel’s hands into your own. “We aren’t human anymore. In less than a decade from now, we’re both going to be gone. You can’t spend every one of your aching hours inside your office; especially since you have family members waiting for you at home. You barely ever had enough free time before becoming the Vice War Chief, so why sacrifice even more of your time?”

Marcel could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. “That kind of thing doesn’t matter to me. I still see my family a lot, so it’s not a big deal.”

You sighed and shook your head. “That’s not really the point I’m trying to make.”

“Then what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that you’ve always had a tendency to sacrifice yourself for others. Let me bite the bullet on this one. You once tried to save me from myself, so let me save you.”

“What if I say no?”

“That doesn’t matter.” You replied softly, letting your hands slip away from Marcel’s. “The higher ups have already approved me for the position. Not a trial, the actual position. So from this point on, spend more time with your loved ones - even if it’s only a little.”

“I love you, (Y/n).”

“I know. You always do. You’re always the person who loves me every time I wake up from my endless nightmare. You always chase after me even if I don’t want you to. You’re always around to kiss my frostbitten hands and always around to comfort me on lonely nights.”

From time to time, you would speak in a way that would make Marcel’s chest tighten. It wasn’t the fluttering someone could associate with love or infatuation, but a pang of sadness. It wasn’t the kind of sadness someone feels when someone they love passes away per say, but the sort of sadness where someone wishes they could do more.

It was times like this that you felt like a different person. It was such a stark contrast to the young girl who had entered the training program all those years ago. He wished he could do more for you, but you were no longer a naive little girl who needed protecting.

No, it was cruel of him to ever have believed that you needed to be protected.

Marcel had always believed that his position as a Warrior meant protecting everyone he loved. He’s always believed that in order to prove his love, he needed to sacrifice himself. After all, what could be deemed a greater act of love than sacrifice?

Sacrifice - a kind of love that burns.

Without much warning, Marcel wrapped his arms around you in an embrace. His skin burned against yours.

“Is there anything I can say to talk you out of it?” Pleaded Marcel. “You don’t have to go through with it. You don’t have to-”

“We both know that isn’t possible.” You sighed, gently directing Marcel’s gaze towards you. As the boy met your gaze, he was surprised when he was met with softness rather than a stern expression. It was… something that was equally as familiar as it was unfamiliar. “You aren’t the only one willing to sacrifice part of themself for others. All of us are. It’s why we became Warriors in the first place.”

“I know…”

“Besides, your handwriting is too messy to be filling out paperwork all day.”

“I know.”

“Not to mention one last thing…” You whispered, pushing loose strands of Marcel’s hair out of his face. You leaned in toward the boy and rested your forehead against his. “Close your eyes.”

Marcel Galliard was approximately fifteen years old when he fell in love with you. Not with the ‘you’ who he thought he needed to sacrifice himself for, but the ‘you’ who he wanted to dedicate himself to. A version of you who was much like himself, and who was willing to give up a part of themself if only to get hurt later on.

Falling in love demands that someone sacrifices part of themself for another, and falling in love as a Warrior demands even more. To care for someone so much that you’re willing to put your own wellbeing aside is no small feat, and Marcel was willing to do just that. It wasn’t a matter of when he fell in love or why he fell in love, it was as simple as a moment.

Right now, no matter how brief this moment, she was his.

Fall in love though an unexpected action.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #marcel galliard x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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cioud-berries · 8 months ago

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The Autobiography of a Sinner (MasterList)

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These are very long chapters so bare with me for posting

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Summery:

The retelling of events that led to The Rumbling and the aftermath from the perspective of someone who was a cause of it.

~ (written as an autobiography it is first person and is like you are the one that wrote it.) The perils of being in love with your comrade. Going from childhood friends, to finding yourselves in a strange land completely alone, will cause anyone to grow close. After certain circumstances, they become more distant than they ever had been before. Being forced to come back together again to save the world would seem more challenging than either of them would think.

Category:

Reiner Braun x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings:

War, Violence, Murder, Child Abuse, Torture, Major Character Deaths, Small Cannon Divergence More to be added

Word Count: 32,377

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Chapters:

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 || Ch 7 || Ch 8 || Ch 9 || Ch 10 || Ch 11 || Ch 12 || Ch 13 || Ch 14 || Ch 15 || Ch 16 || Ch 17 || Ch 18 ... more to be added

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This fic on other cites

Quotev || Wattpad || Ao3

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Overall Masterlist

Discord link

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brave-and-gentle · 1 year ago

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Got Covid for the first time, so I wrote a shit ton and published the first chapter of my new fic about my favs (it’s Jeanxreader, who could’ve guessed??).

Now read it or else 😌🔪

Forewarning - if you are ride or die Jeankasa to the ends of the earth, this is not for you, plsss do not come after me 🕯️🕯️🙏🏻🙏🏻 and I swear Jean and Mikasa are on good terms but it’s not pretty…RAFO.

Summary:

On the eve of his 29th birthday, Jean Kirstein never thought he’d be a divorced, single dad all before 30. All his friends are either happily coupled up, or in Connie's case, aggressively single. Jean believes that he missed his one shot at happiness, and decides to be content with his work, friends, and son, Mason.

Until he meets you.

You're also fresh off a divorce, deciding to move from Liberio to Trost for a fresh start. It breaks your heart to leave your long-time friends, but you don't want anymore reminders of him. All you want is a quiet, new life - working at the local library and making new friends.

Until you meet Jean.

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cherub-berry · 7 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ Dating Porco 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ | Attack on Titan

Pairing: Porco Galliard x gn!Reader

Summary: Want to know what dating Porco feels like? Well, no worries, old chap! I've got the fic just for you!

Content: fluff with a bit of angst, mention Of YumiHisu, mention of Marcel, No beta we die like Bert, bad grammar

Word count: 1k

Notes: I'm trying a different theme for my fics (you could say this is like a test fanfic)

Porco is known to have a sharp tongue and very brash attitude. He's never one to hold back on insults, and call someone out on their bullshit. Whether it's his fellow warriors or a soldier, he can come across as arrogant, dismissive, and downright rude. However, with you, he's a completely different person. His tough exterior melts when you're around and he becomes unexpectedly protective and preceptive.

He still keeps his edge—his sarcasm and stubbornness are still there, but it's reserved just for others. With you, he’s surprisingly gentle, his cruel remarks no longer meant to hurt but rather to tease in a playful way. His action speaks louder than words, he will wrap an arm around you in public, especially in a crowded area, so you won't get lost or get separated from him.

At times, Porco's possessiveness becomes clear, especially when you get close to the other Warriors or random soldiers. He may act distant or frustrated, not hiding his irritation when he notices their attention on you. While he doesn’t openly admit it, his protective side kicks in, and he subtly keeps an eye on you, ensuring that no one gets too comfortable.

Porco’s love language is physical touch and acts of service, and he shows his affection through these in subtle yet meaningful ways. He enjoys touching you often, whether it’s a hand on your back or a gentle squeeze of your hand. When you’re walking together, he’ll instinctively hold your hand, guiding you to your destination with a firm but gentle grip. It’s his way of keeping you close and making sure you’re never lost, both physically and emotionally. Porco's acts of service comes through in the ways he quietly takes care of you without making a big deal about it. He wants to make your life easier. For example, he will take the initiative to handle tasks you're too tired or stressed to deal with. Whether it is housework, errands, or even just opening a jar of jam he will do it without you asking. To him, showing love through action is more genuine than anything else, he takes pride in being a reliable boyfriend.

Porco runs hot, both literally and figuratively. He has a naturally warm body temperature, which often makes him sweat more than others, especially during training or in stressful situations. It's not uncommon for him to feel uncomfortably warm after a long day of fighting or sparring, and he’ll often complain about it, grumbling as he wipes sweat off his brow. When you cuddle with Porco, his body heat is more than enough to keep you warm—so much so that you won’t need a heater during the winter. His naturally warm temperature makes him the perfect source of comfort on cold nights, and as you snuggle close, you'll feel the heat radiating from him, instantly soothing the chill.

Porco’s biceps are a point of pride for him, though he doesn’t always show it. As a warrior, his training is intense, and his muscles reflect the hours he’s put into honing his strength. His biceps are particularly noticeable when he's wearing his uniform, the fabric of his sleeves stretching just enough to highlight the toned, powerful muscles beneath. Though he acts nonchalant about it, he’s secretly proud of the work he’s put in.

He’s also the type to lightly tease you about his strength, perhaps making a show of flexing his arm when you’re near, just to get a reaction out of you. Though his arrogance comes through, it's also a playful gesture—a way for him to boast without saying it outright. When he catches you glancing at his arms, he might smirk and give a cocky remark, all while secretly enjoying the attention, even if he won’t admit it.

Porco’s flirting style is sharp, teasing, and often wrapped in sarcasm. He’s not the type to be overtly sweet or romantic, but he knows how to push your buttons in the best way possible. His flirtation often comes through as playful banter, with just the right mix of confidence and arrogance. He’ll throw a quick remark like, “You know, I usually don’t put up with anyone, but for you, I might make an exception,” or “Try not to get too distracted by my good looks.”

Porco is surprisingly shy in his own way. While he may come off as tough and arrogant around others, with you, he’s a more reserved and bashful man. He struggles to express his vulnerability, so whenever you show him affection in private, he becomes flustered. He’ll blush and quickly respond with a snarky remark to cover up his feelings, but deep down, he absolutely loves it. Though he finds it difficult to admit, those moments of tenderness mean a lot to him, even if he tries to hide it behind his usual tough exterior.

Porco wants to keep your relationship private, but at the same time, he has a strong desire to show the world that you’re his. He’s afraid that people might perceive him as weak because of his love for you, even though he doesn’t believe love makes someone weak. He doesn’t want anyone to think less of him, especially not his fellow Warriors or his late brother, Marcel. Deep down, he fears that Marcel, in particular, would be disappointed in him for allowing his emotions to show, even though Porco’s love for you is something he treasures deeply. This internal conflict makes him more guarded about your relationship, trying to balance his desire to protect you with his fear of what others might think.

Every time Porco experiences a vision of Ymir showing her affection for Historia, he feels a deep sense of envy. He envies how Ymir was never afraid to express her love, regardless of what others thought. Unlike Porco, who hides his feelings out of fear of judgment, Ymir was fearless in her love for Historia, even when it put her at odds with others. To Porco, Ymir’s ability to love openly, without worrying about how it would make her appear to others, stands in stark contrast to his own struggles. He wishes he could be as strong and unafraid as Ymir, who, in the end, found courage and conviction in her love for Historia, even in her final moments.

In conclusion, 10/10 would date, fuck, marry

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mewwccury · 3 months ago

Note

I saw you take request SO LOCK I'M BECAUSE BOY DO I HAVE AND IDEA so basically Porco did get an armoured titan and went to Paradis (that was the only idea I got how he got get there but if u have something else then I'm sure it will be amazing) where he met us and of course we fell in love but then we found at, just like in original story, and he left BUT after all these years Paradis went to Marley, reader got separate from the group for a minute and meet Porco accidentally and he started apologising and happy ending <3

because i love you!

word count. 2.2k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. armored titan!porco x fem!reader, this has a good ending i promise, angst, fluff, suggestive, profanities, timeline is NOT accurate, alternate universe yall!!

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. WELL HELLO!!! thank you for the request, i greatly appreciate it!!!! i love it i love it omg this had me going on SPIRALS i love this idea omg OKAY I'LL DO MY BEST NOT TO DISAPPOINT YOU I LOVE U !!!!!!! (tried to actually make a fic instead of making several drabbles and slapping it to another to make a damn one shot HOPE U LIKE IT)

୨୧ — ꒰ featuring. porco galliard

୨୧ — ꒰ prompt. betrayal was a feeling you thought you knew well. until you met him.

୨୧ — ꒰ crdts. credits to @kthologue for letting me use their idea of the "professing their love" thing hehe THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!

you met porco galliard during your first joint training mission with the southern recruits.

he was sharp, blunt, and immediately rubbed most people the wrong way — including you.

it started with an argument over strategy.

porco insisted on a direct approach. you preferred subtlety. he called your plan naive. you called him reckless.

but in the middle of the mock battle, when your harness snapped midair and you plummeted into the trees, it was porco who dropped everything to catch you—risking his own rank.

“you good?” he asked, panting, still holding your arm.

“i would’ve landed fine.”

“sure you would’ve.” he mocked, rolling his eyes.

and that was it—the start of something volatile and wordless.

he never apologized for being harsh. you never apologized for biting back.

eventually, ou learned each other’s rhythms. sparred after hours. patrolled the same routes. swapped rations when one of you missed dinner.

you learned his habits—the twitch in his jaw when he was pissed, and the way his gaze dropped when he was guilty.

he learned how to make you laugh. a real, genuine laugh.

by the time you joined the survey corps officially, you were always assigned together.

he made sure of it.

porco wasn’t soft with anyone. but with you, there were moments—rare, fleeting—where his guard slipped.

he once found you crying behind the crates in an empty room at headquarters after a mission went wrong. two comrades gone. your knees scraped. your throat raw from screaming.

he sat beside you. didn’t speak for a long time.

“i get it,” he finally said. “when marcel died... it felt like the ground opened under me. i hated everyone for breathing.”

“who’s marcel?” you asked.

he froze.

“my brother.”

“i didn’t know you had one.”

“not many do.”

that was it. no more details. no more explanations. but after that night, you sat closer. shared silence easier.

it wasn’t quite love—not yet—but it was something dangerously close.

he started brushing your shoulder when he passed. his hand lingered when he bandaged your cuts. you pretended not to notice when he offered you his scarf in the winter and looked away quickly.

you wondered if he’d ever kiss you.

he didn’t.

but he looked like he wanted to.

that day on wall rose was one you'd never get to forget. as if it's been engraved into your mind.

the clouds were heavy. the wind sharp. porco’s eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“we’re out of time,” he said, standing with bertholdt.

you frowned. “what?”

porco swallowed. “i’m.. the armored titan. bertholdt’s the colossal.”

you blinked. waiting for the punchline. when it didn’t come, you laughed, disbelieving.

“what the hell are you talking about?”

“we’re warriors from marley. we infiltrated the walls nine years ago.”

you stared at him, frozen. “stop it.”

“come with me. please,” he said. “i’ll protect you. i swear.”

you scoff, tears welling in your eyes, “protect me? you lied to me! you killed people—my people! you—you let me trust you.”

porco looked like he was crumbling, “i didn’t want to. i wasn't supposed to trust you. i wasn't supposed to get attached. i didn’t know how to stop.”

bertholdt said nothing. he looked.. terrified. he's clammy as well. and for what? he's the damn colossal.

porco stepped forward.

“d-don’t come near me!” you step back in fear.

porco froze, the guilt weighing on him heavily.

��don’t do this,” you begged. “please.”

“i’m sorry,” he whispered.

then he shifted.

the world exploded in light and wind. you stood in fear as the armored titan loomed before you—the man you trusted turned monster.

before you knew it, you fainted. maybe from the hot steam his titan produced, maybe from shock. or maybe from the immense feeling of betrayal washing over you.

once you woke up, armin explained everything to you. how eren heard the conversation, how his titan and porco's fought, and how he ran to the forest with eren, ymir, and bertholdt in hand.

he leapt. vanished into the forest.

you sob.

he came back in armor.

when the shiganshina operation began, you were ready. fueled with rage. anger simmering inside you.

the armored titan burst from the rubble, and you flanked with mikasa, rage in your veins.

you had him in your sights—your blades aimed for the nape—

but you hesitated.

his eyes. behind the plating. still his.

someone else took the strike. they missed. they died.

you screamed his name.

during the chaos, he grasped you in his hand. not to kill—to talk.

he tore the flesh by his nape, letting his upper body free. human eyes, flesh hanging from the side of his face, terrified.

“you can still come with us. back at my home. i'll take care of everything. of you.”

“don’t you dare,” you spat, blades at stance, “don’t pretend you care.”

“i’m not pretending!” he exclaimed.

you scoff for the umpteenth time today, “why would i believe a word you say? you betrayed everything—everyone! you betrayed me!” you caterwaul.

he sighed. “i'll come back for you.” he mumbled.

he placed you down gently on the roof of a house. he let you go.

and then he ran. vanished again.

years passed.

you weren’t supposed to wander off.

the mission was diplomatic, simple—a symbolic show of peace. hizuru’s representatives were hosting a gathering near the center of liberio, and the remnants of the survey corps had come as emissaries from paradis.

you smiled when expected. bowed when expected. but something about this place—the cracks in the buildings, the faint smell of ash still clinging to the streets—pulled you somewhere else.

and before you knew it, you were gone.

the crowd swallowed you. music, laughter, flashing lights. peace parading as progress.

you stepped away from it all, boots hitting the cracked concrete of an old pathway that led to a narrow public park. a relic from before the bombs fell.

you were just going to breathe.

but instead—you found him.

porco galliard.

sitting on a bench under a rusted lamppost, watching the people go by like they were ghosts.

your heart stopped.

he hadn’t changed much. maybe broader in the shoulders. maybe a little more tired. but it was him.

and he saw you the second you froze.

he stood slowly. like he couldn’t believe it.

then the sky split open.

the first drops of rain fell.

“…you still hate the rain?” he asked, voice hoarse, cautious.

you stared.

“you’re not real,” you whispered.

“i thought the same when i saw you.”

you took a breath. it didn’t help.

“you lied to me,” you said.

his throat bobbed. “i know.”

“you were one of us. we trusted you. i trusted you.”

“i didn’t want it to be like that.”

“you made it like that.”

the rain thickened. cold slid down your spine.

“you looked me in the eye and told me we’d make it back,” you said. “you let me stand at your side. in the forest. on the wall. and then—” you swallowed hard.

“you ripped it all away.”

“it was never fake,” porco said, stepping forward.

“then what was it?”

“conflicted. impossible. real.”

you laughed once—bitter and broken.

“you don’t get to say that to me.”

he looked like he was trying not to fall apart. “i think about that day every night. the look in your eyes when i said i was the armored. i thought you’d kill me.”

“i should’ve.”

“then why didn’t you?”

“i don’t know!” you shouted.

thunder cracked in the distance.

“you ruined everything,” you hissed. “and now you’re here? in this city? like we’re supposed to act like none of it happened?”

“that’s not what i want.”

“then what do you want from me?!”

his jaw clenched. the words came slow.

“i want you to know that it wasn’t just the mission. it was you.” his eyes searched yours, “you made it impossible to keep lying. to keep pretending i was just a soldier.”

your hands curled into fists.

“why do you even care?!” you screamed, voice ripping out of your throat. “after all this time, after everything you did, why do you care what i think?! what i feel?!”

he stared at you—no armor now. no lies. just porco.

“because i love you!” he said. loud and clear, over the storm.

your breath caught. you swayed where you stood.

“you would never understand how in love i was. with you. how you'd keep up with our banters, never letting me win. how hard headed you are, but soft hearted too. i imagined everything with you.” he took a deep breath.

“i fantasize about a life with you. you, running around the beach with that dress you always told me about. the one your mother gave you. i'll buy you a beach hat to match it. you'd have the biggest smile on your face, looking at the sea.”

“we'd get married at a chapel. seats reserved for your mom and my brother. and for our—no, your comrades who passed away. you'd wear a lovely, flowy, white gown, and a veil to top it off. the jewel of my ring would match your eyes, while yours would match mine.” he smiled sadly.

his hair was soaked. rain dripped off his jaw. his eyes held nothing back.

“can't you see? i can't imagine a future without you.”

you stepped forward.

grabbed him by the collar. pulled him down.

and kissed him like you’d waited years for the chance to hate him and want him at the same time.

his hands found your waist, your spine, your jaw. he kissed you like it hurt. like it healed. like it meant everything.

the rain poured.

your lips didn’t part.

and for the first time since the wall fell, you felt something whole again.

#porco #porco galliard #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot x oc #aot x reader #snk x oc #snk x reader #porco x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #eren yeager #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman

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convexity-aurora · 3 months ago

Text

[grit] - y. porco galliard x f. reader

tw/cw: violence, gore, murder, death, obession, yandere, power imbalance, smut (dom! porco & sub! reader, biting, praise, dirty talk, pet names: [babygirl & my girl], dub-con, unprotected sex, oral [fem reciving]), war, toxic relationships, reader is buff, ooc porco and pieck, porn w/ plot (?), does not follow plot of og story but takes base in similar au, no use of y/n

summary: having been working your whole life towards the female titan, only to have the chance been taken away- you make use of what you have and start from the bottom again and work yourself to a respectable postion. it's only when you get badly injured on a mission, is when he sees this as a problem.. (written in 2nd pov)

written by @convexity-aurora, requested by @bleach-your-panties apologizes for the delay

edit - apologies for the bottom text being different from the rest

!MDNI! - this is the final and only notice.

Gone. All gone.

Each and every one of them, killed within minutes. All of your comrades, their limbs and bowls scattered across the ground as if they were shredded to death by a barrage of raining gems. Clutching the sides of the truck, as your commander drove away in a frenzy from the vision of death painted in front of you- Crying through your blurring world. For the first time in several years.

Imagine the disappointment you felt, when the news of your candidacy was nothing of a waste of your already hurting pride and your doubting faith in the Marelyean government. Dinner that night was more humiliating than drowning in a puddle of water. The clinks of silverware hitting glass plates, and the soft thuds of glasses being placed on the table was the only noise to be heard. It was deafening.

You could already see the disappointment in your father’s eyes, even though he didn’t show it on his face- seemingly to allow you some peace of mind. But you could feel the embers of his rage, as he gazed upon the opened letter announcing your silent failure to him. Tauntingly placed next to your plate, as if to mock you.

A fresh, red hand print marks my face- from the same boy you used to call my friend. It was a wordless declaration of new blames, from Marcel's death, to your own failure.

You attempted to hide my brewing tears behind the sip of your glass as finally your younger sister Hannah, only four, broke the cutthroat silence with the sound of her sobs. “I…I’m glad you didn’t get chosen, because I don’t want you to leave.” Thick tears fall down her tiny face as she chokes out the words. You felt your heart was heavy, so you merely rubbed her back in comfort unsure of what to say.

From that moment on you feared death like no other- Worked harder than majority of male colleagues to rise up until you reached the position of sergeant major. Hard work shown through my muscular physique and unparalleled battle strategies, that even Marleyan Generals asked for your tactical advice often. Unable to go much higher than a commander- due to me being born Eldian. You were never able to apply as an officer, no, that pleasure for the Marleyan’s. What could we do? Only enlisting, like lambs to the slaughter you all were to them. Just meat they could use for the goal attained in their name. It was never good enough.

Finding romance was almost nonexistent, it being in the military— and the traditional ideals of a woman should be thin, and lean. Not seen, or heard. It was lonely, with the few friends you managed to keep. But still, you had an itch only a lover could scratch.

* * *

The first time you met Porco after ten years, you could tell he was bitter. Salty about the world, and life in general. You had been assigned to work with him and Pieck to breach the walls of Paradis and find Eren Yeager, or find any leads as to where he could be. Pieck was an odd woman. Crawling around in the way she would in her titan form. She seemed unkempt- but you weren’t one to judge.

"Sorry, I'm just not used to being in this state." She apologizes with an odd smile to match her personality. You nodded, and gave her a respectful smile. You had heard from some of the other commanders how she would be in that form weeks to even months at a time. Glancing at Porco from the side with slight interest- it wasn't often you saw a man bitter as him. Even in the cruel state of this world.

"Ahem." Porco coughed into his fist, looking you up and down as if he was expecting something. You raised my brow, and waved your hand for him to speak.

"So, are we going to talk about this or not?" He asks, crossing his arms from the chair he sat on. The look of disapproval on his face was evident- it was hard not to roll your eyes. You nod, and unravel the scroll you were holding in your arms. It showed a blueprint of the city of Paradis. It’s impressive detail all sketched out by you.

They sit there in silence, gazing at it before blinking in confusion. You roll up my sleeves, showing my muscular arms as you take small trinkets from around the room to mark them as your scheme to breach the walls. A slight smirk crawled its way onto Porco's face as he glanced at the placement of each trinket. "...Huh, I think this might actually work."

On the blueprint, were plotted points of weak spots- and others of areas of low surveillance as an opportunity to sneak in. Speaking no words, you take Porco's hand and drag it to the highlighted portion of a newfound Yeagerist hotspot. A flash of surprise in his eye at your lack of hesitation to even touch him after all these years.

"Here...you, Pieck, and I will dress like other residents within this area. Pretend to be interested and have them lure you in. " You mutter some other things as you make notions here and there but they come out inaudible. He only nods curtly, and frowns slightly as you pull away your hand and roll back down the coat sleeves. Staring at your arms with an unfocused gaze as you put back the blueprint- placing the trinkets you used back where you last found them. "We have a few weeks of preparation before we set sail."

"Wait!" Pieck's voice calls out in a sense of urgency, making you halt and turn your gaze to her. Halfway through putting your blueprint back into your satchel. Porco also stares at you, with the same unfocused gaze as before. Undeniable longing behind it’s intensity.

"Yes?" You answer, as she comes closer to inspect you further. Tensing up and straightening your back to the sudden movement. Your fingers thrum on the strap of your satchel as you force another polite smile onto your lips.

Pieck then lights up as recognition gleams in her eyes, pointing a finger to my face as she grabs the fabric of Porco's trenchcoat and breaks him out of his trance. His eyes flick up with a sharp glint of old festering feelings, and with every right does to hold so. You try not to flinch as his voice speaks with a newly piqued poison behind it. "It's been a long time- You've certainly... grown."

* * *

In the weeks to come, the ride over to Paradis was the worst of all. Finding yourself dreading every hour that made it come closer. You, having been placed right in between Pieck and Porco internally scream at the horrible luck you honed. At first it was polite smiles- small talk, and questions overgoing the plan from Pieck. But not at all a word from Porco.

Soon as Pieck fell asleep, her head laying on your shoulder you gaze out at the clouds. Mesmerized by their beauty in the setting sun's light, you could feel his eyes pinpoint to the side of your face. Bustled in a moment of courage- sighing inwards in a big breath, and exhale slowly to settle racing nerves. "Porco, why do you blame me for Marcel’s death?"

Porco's jaw is left agape, stunned as you are by your own words. Clasping a hand over your jaw and utter countless apologies. But it can't help but watch as he deflates his usually high shoulders and sighs deeply. An uncharacteristic solemn smile graces his lips as he gazes at you before he speaks in a low, quiet tone.

"I was jealous, in a way." He starts, gazing up at you, as you cross my legs- face now turned to meet his. Furrowing your brows, confusion knitting them as you try to comprehend his words. "Your own kin, still thrive- as mine laid chewed up in the stomach of another. No curse holds the rest of your life for ransom. Each day a ticking clock, until then I am to be eaten as well. Dreading life until the bitter end.”

You meet his gaze, biting your lip before nodding briefly. Staying silent in a familiar tenuous feeling to the air. Unfurling your brows, you huff bemusingly as your eyes cast to the ground. "I...I don't think I'll ever fully understand, but know that we've grown. Hopefully matured, can we put the aside and call ourselves acquaintances at least?" You whisper softly with for once- a genuine smile. Porco for the first time in nearly ten years, smiles back, and nods as the plane starts to land.

* * *

As night finally falls, quickly the three of you are escorted over the walls. Breaching them with ease in disguise as any other resident in the area. Dressed in baggier clothing so as to not draw attention to your well-toned figure with the regular military uniforms. The mission was centered on gathering as much information as possible, to urge hints as to where Eren Yeager was.

You had to walk down in the less crowded areas of Wall Maria- or what was left of it. A man with his cap downward so no one could meet his gaze- stopped me in my tracks and whispered lowly in a coarse voice. The kind veteran smokers had. "You, girl... are you here uhh, for the gathering?"

Keeping calm, but a small flicker of excitement lights up in your soul. Looking back and forth to seem wary and nod before his motions his head to a dark wooden door behind him.

Checkmate.

Pieck and Porco are already inside, leaving me confused as to how they got in so quickly as you only split up an hour ago. Shrugging it off- You focus on the various people surrounding a vastly empty room, in the center is what seems to be their leader, a scrawny looking woman with blonde hair straw-like draping over her features. Casting a daunting look into her gaze. It wasn’t long until you could feel those same eyes piercing your back like a dagger. Growing anxious you shift your position over to Porco, as Pieck lies near the exit of the room- just as planned.

“Welcome, old and new…” The scrawny looking blonde croaks, pausing to take a long extended drag of her newly lit cigarette with her shaky hand. Blowing it in the face of another woman as she passed around the room with lidded brown eyes. She was trying to intimidate the people in this room, for little to no reason. Everything she did reminded you of your father, a man who used fear to get what he wanted. Flicking your gaze to the side you make eye contact with Porco as he stares directly at the woman with a suspicious face.

Whispers utter around the room, as she stands center still saying nothing. Until she steps forward to get a better eye at you. It was suffocating the way she drew out every little action, but it was certainly effective on how she kept control. Even you, a soldier familiar with the horrors of war, could not shake off this feeling of dread she so easily emitted.

“You’re new, and awfully strange. Welcome, welcome.” She states with an exaggerated tone of enthusiasm, offering a disgusted sneer as her eyes look you up and down. Pulling at your sleeves to show your toned forearm. You snatch your hand back with humiliation burning at the back of your throat but show no reaction. The straw haired blonde only laughs dryly before taking another drag, with a single motion of her fingers- puts out the cigarette next to your head on the brick wall. Letting the sizzle ingrain a not so pleasant message clear as day. I know what you are.

Porco’s eyes lid darkly as he watches in pure silence. Not taking action as he knows it could kill you all if it did, maybe even cause another war. One that Marley could not afford right now, even if its people were desperately bloodthirsty. He only bit his lip watching as you rub the spot she touched on your forearm. Her smile turns faux as her words, “What brings you here?”

“The desire to build Eldia to her former glory.” You respond with a certain robotic undertone, earning a few irked brows from across the room. Not daring to meet eyes with her. Your facade was cracking to your own fear. A hum of satisfaction leaves her lips, leaving you to let out a shaky sigh of relief once she is out of earshot.

Much to my surprise, Porco's arm slithers around your waist and he leans in to whisper in your ear. "Did that bitch hurt you?" He whispers lowly in a bartone voice, glaring daggers at the straw-haired woman from the side as she uses the same tatics on other people within the vacinity. The same woman finally approaches Pieck, not even speaking or giving her a chance to speak- drags her by the ear as Pieck can only writhe in pain. You stand in shock along with Porco as his rage only grows more by the second. You could tell by the way veins popped out from his forehead he was holding back by only a thread. You couldn't risk a slip up in front of the rest of the crowd- unless you want a mob of angry Yeagarists ripping limb from limb off your body.

"It seems we have quite a few guests today with us." Her voice now hostile, eyes around the room within seconds glare at you and your blood runs cold as ice, heart pounding so fast it can. You could barley hear Porco's yells as people surrond us in all dierections. This was going south, to fast for you to even comphrend it. Your face comes inches close to a sliver blade that gleams evilly in the light- only for it to be plunged right above your left breast due to Porco pulling me away just in time before it could reach its intened target of your eye.

Your vision grows hazy from the blood loss, but adrenaline keeps you alert. Ripping out the blade from your chest and stab it straight into the neck of the male perpetraitor. Watching in horror as he gags on his own blood, hands wrapped around his throat before collpasing straight unto his face, dead.

Out the corner of your eyes Porco bashes in the skull of the straw haired woman, not stopping until her head is nothing but a pile of mush of bones and brain. Pieck looking distraught slumps against the wall- You flinch soon as we make eye contact. It took me a moment to realize all the corpes trailed about the room and the unhinged look of satisfaction you catch on Porco's face before he quickly rushed to your side. The once clean khaki colored trench coat now splattered in crimison blood. You stumble forward with my arm stretched out, collapsing unto one knee.

"Mission failed." Porco's gaze immediately softened, sparing you a soft amused huff as he wraps your arm around his neck so he can help you walk out the door. Even now, stabbed and bleeding out you tried to lighten the mood. Him, Pieck, and a Marleyen spy all escourting you towards a makeshift base- hiding yourselves through empty alleyways.

* * *

Due to the recent efforts made within the Paradis walls, train tracks were installed in the recent months after Marleyen people first arrived on its shores and sharing it's technology with the people of these huge walls.

With Porco's stubborn adamance to be alone with you and Piek’s guilt to strong to face you, both of you end up sharing a private cart. Finding yourself staring at his hazel eyes as he wraps gauze around the area you were stabbed- now freshly stitched up. It was a bit awkard as you were topless, but he didn't seem to mind.

Porco irked his brow, looking up at you after pulling away but there is a hint of darkness behind them. Your breath shudders to his lingering touch on your chest as his fingers trail over the various scars all over your toned body. His other hand reaching up to slither his arm around your waist.

"I hated myself everyday after Marcel died, I pushed everyone away- Including you." He whispers in a soft tone, his normally hardened hazel eyes glimmer in the dim light of the candle with a certian warmth- and longing. A gentleness only he showed you, even in the days when you were titan candidates. Reluctantly you reach out to touch his cheek, Porco closes his eye enjoying the warmth of your palm. “Can you find in your heart to forgive me?”

“I, Porco we were kids. We didn’t know what was going on around us. What this war was for— even if we are still slaves to this pointless endless war, I will be here with you through all of it.” You murmur, leaning in finally after what seemed liked ages to press a soft and gentle kiss upon his lips. Porco lets out a soft groan. His arms slithering down your half-naked frame, grabbing at your ass lightly, creating and opening for his tongue to slither in at your gasp. His lidded eyes gaze over your own, pressing you into the bed quick to remove your trousers and panties— the pads of thumb toying with your clit while you struggle to breathe.

He pulls away a string of saliva connecting the both of you. Watching your expression contort with unfamiliar pleasure, Porco hoists your legs unto his shoulders licking a stripe from your thigh to the folds of your core. You quiver in expectation, hand reaching down to clutch his blonde locks. Gazing at the intricate design of the ceiling as he delved his tongue into your pussy. Drinking you like a man depraved of water.

Porco holds you in place, tongue wrapping around your clit and sucking while you panted above, grabbing at anything you find might hold you steady. Waves after waves of pleasure until finally— you come on his tongue your walls clenching around nothingness. Sitting yourself up, and watch Porco wipe the remaining juices off his face with the back of his sleeve. Unbuttoning his white shirt, those hazel eyes daunting while you stare at the bulge weeping to breathe. A light smirk comes into play— softly tracing the bandages while shedding off the cloth. “Fuck you’re beautiful… I’m jealous of every man you ever fought during training… What they wouldn’t give to be me now— right, babygirl?”

With that, he frees his cock— laying it out on top your stomach like he was showing it off. Porco leans over, lining up with your entrance and slowly entering. Stretching out your hole inch by inch as you clasped his hand. A wanton moan leaving your lips as his lips mark up your well chiseled back. He bottoms out finally a soft grunt as he takes a moment to relish your walls around his cock. Lifting your one leg over his shoulder to get at a better angle, Poro starts slowly. Head rolled back, trying to contain his own sounds. Finding it near impossible not to cum in that moment. “Fuck, baby— Hngh, you’re so tight… milking me dry.”

Combined sounds of pants and occasional moans, Porco starts thrusting wildly into you. As if he’d never feel it again. Dropping your legs back down— he captures your lips in a heated kiss. With bite on your lip, and one sharp inhale from you, your walls milk him for all he’s worth. Pulling out he watches as the essence flows out and a satisfied smirk graced his lips. Pulling the covers over as he kisses the back of your neck, he gazes at the clock and hope you don’t notice your missing panties in the morning.

#tw : suggestive #tw : gore #tw : blood #tw : violence #tw : smut #tw: dark content #tw: death #yandere #yandere smut #yandere aot #aot #aot smut #porco galliard #porco x reader #aot porco

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satcrnslovesbakugo · 1 year ago

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number one fan

soccer player!porco galliard x f!reader

porco galliard i will never forget you😔

it’s too early for this you think as an elbow in the arm from pieck brings you out of your trance. it was an away game, an away game that was annoyingly very early in the morning, but you, marcel, and pieck wanted to do something special for porco, so here you were to surprise him.

he didn’t think anyone would come out to his away games, but he severely underestimated the amount of love the trio of his brother, his best friend, and his girlfriend could bring to the table.

you had laughed when you saw his text this morning, on my way to the game. hope you sleep in, see you later baby. it took all of your might not to respond, he had to think you were comfortably asleep in your dorm room right now and not in the car on the way to where he was playing.

pieck turns the music up and starts to tap the steering wheel to the beat, “he’s going to be so excited to see us!” she smiled, looking at marcel through the rearview mirror.

"he's going to lose his mind when he sees [name]," marcel chuckles. you might had overdone it, but you know porco will love it. you've got one of his old jerseys on and you've painted his number, 11, on your cheek. you know porco is going to love seeing you wearing his last name around with pride.

the three of you hunted for the perfect spot on the bleachers, trying to find the best spot for watching porco play. he had yet to notice the three of you, he was honed in on listening to the coach.

and then he turned around. and he saw you there, laughing at something that pieck said. he had to stifle the biggest smile on his face, which became impossible when you got up to go grab sodas from the concession stand and he saw galliard across your back.

he always felt like he played better when you were watching, when he could hear you cheering him on. he didn't expect you to come to away games, especially one an hour away and early in the morning. but you still came to surprise him anyway. god, he's so in love with you.

and when you ran out on the field after the game, he held you as close as possible (despite being sweaty and gross) and laughed as you rambled to him about how proud you were of him.

"thank you for coming, baby," he beamed down at you.

"i'm always happy to watch you play, pock," you pecked him on the lips.

"let me go grab my stuff, you can ride back with me," porco winks at you before leaning down to tell you one last thing: "you look good wearing my last name, by the way."

#porco galliard x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #porco galliard

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teakookssi · 11 months ago

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

[ full story can be found here or here ] [Overview & prologue] ➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader ➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst ➺warnings: violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s aot for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (:

chapter 14: here comes a consequence

You’re sitting across from Jean and Connie in the dimly lit parlor of your home playing cards on the coffee table when Sasha walks in, silent as a wraith. Only Bear, who had been at your feet playing with his toy mouse made out of wool, sprints out the door the moment she arrives.

Sasha herself lingers by the door wearing a grim expression on her face, but she does nothing to make her presence known. Just continues to watch you, Jean, and Connie play for a while longer.

You don't acknowledge her either, knowing that she has come to report something you probably don’t want to hear. But there’s also an open bottle of whiskey in the center of the table and a cigarette in between your fingers — two of your main sources of comfort—so you reckon that should be enough to keep you amicable, or as close to it as you are capable of being.

The room itself has a calming ambiance so she has that in her favor as well. The velvet emerald green curtains behind you make the room’s lighting even darker against the forest green walls, while the smoke of the lit cigarettes in the room surround you like a hazy blanket; impairing your vision to anything beyond so that the world outside seems distant and inconsequential.

Eventually, your patience wears out.

“You just going to stand there all day?” you question Sasha without looking up from the cards in your hand. “Or are you actually going to speak?”

Connie and Jean look to you with a puzzled expression on their faces before quickly realizing you’re not talking to them after noticing Sasha standing by the door behind them.

“Sasha!” Jean calls to her in surprise from his seat, craning his neck slightly at the door behind Sasha to look left and right. “Where’s Mikasa?”

“On patrol,” Sasha replies back simply. After a brief pause, she then adds tightly, “As am I.”

You take a long drag from your cigarette and languidly exhale the smoke into the air, already aware of this.

Mikasa had come to you late last night to inform you that she and Sasha had been assigned to join your father to visit Armin's new territory the following morning. This wasn’t surprising to you. Ymir most likely wanted to check how business was doing and if there was any problems he needed to be aware of regarding the sudden change in leadership within the sector.

“Well, let’s hear it then,” you prompt, placing a card from your hand on the table to draw another from the deck in front of you. “Has Armin managed to meet my father’s expectations or is he set on replacing him with one of his own?”

“He seemed satisfied enough,” your wraith reports.

You raise an eyebrow, taking in her worried expression. “Then why do you have that look on your face?”

Sasha’s scowl deepens. “My spies have told me there have been rumors going around the Colossus Sector. Of rebels trying to instigate an uprise against Armin’s leadership—people loyal to Bertholt’s family. Before we left, I confirmed this with Armin.” She steps forward and hands you a piece of paper while Jean and Connie exchange glances. “He gave me the names of the ones he suspects are leading the revolt.”

You take the paper from her and find two names written in Armin’s slanted handwriting. You read the names aloud. “Colt Grice and Marcel Galliard?”

Sasha nods grimly.

You recline back on the couch, cards still in your hand, and though you appear relaxed, your muscles are taut. You poke at the inside of your mouth with your tongue, annoyed. “My father knows about this?”

Sasha looks uneasy. “When Ymir questioned him about the rumors, Armin assured him there was nothing to worry about. That the situation had been handled.”

“But it hasn’t?”

Sasha remains silent.

You nod. “So he lied to my father.”

“Considering your current situation, Armin didn’t want to worsen your situation by telling your father just how actively his enemies are plotting his demise. But Armin thinks these loyalists will make their move soon and urges we be on high alert for any suspicious activity.”

“Annie and Reiner have been awfully quiet since Armin took over the Colossal sector,” Jean points out.

Sasha gives a small shake of her head. “There has been no evidence tying them to these rebel groups.”

“They were close allies to Berthold,”Jean argues back. “Do you really think they’d stand by and let him be humiliated and stripped of his power the way he was without doing something to avenge him?”

“Maybe it’s one of the other sectors allying against us?” Connie offers.

“Regardless of who else is behind it,” Sasha cuts in, arms crossed against her chest, “we have the beginnings of a rebellion in our hands. And Bertholdt’s loyalists are leading the charge. That much we know to be true.”

You rub your temples, fighting off a headache. You’re growing agitated so you reach for the bottle of scotch in front of you to pour yourself a glass.

“It is to be expected, isn’t it?” Connie says absentmindedly. “After the way their leader was treated.”

You down your drink in one swing. “No,” you correct harshly with a growl, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “This is what happens when we choose to let them live.”

If your father had just let you kill them all, this would have never happened.

“It was the only way to gain legitimate power over their territory,” Jean reminds you carefully, as if hearing your very thoughts.

You roll your eyes and toss the rest of your cards on the table in frustration, signaling the end of the game.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?” Connie asks. “They’re not stupid enough to step foot here.”

“Armin thinks they are,” Sasha tells him, “which is why he’s sent a warning.”

You rise to your feet, dropping your cigarette in the ashtray. “Then I trust you all to deal with them accordingly,” you say to them through gritted teeth, “before my father decides to lock me up in here for the rest of my life.”

You snatch the bottle on the table by its neck on your way out the door, needing to drown in your frustrations. Hating that you had to rely on others to dispatch your enemies for you while you were trapped in here like some domesticated animal incapable of surviving on its own out in the wild.

But the moment you pass Sasha at the door, she swiftly takes hold of the bottle in your hands, holding it hostage from you and keeping you in place. You frown at the intervention and when you try yanking it back, she gives you a knowing look.

“Fine!” you growl at her viciously, shoving the bottle at her chest. “Take it!” You wave your arms dramatically in the air, gesturing to your surroundings. “Take everything away while you’re at it! Everyone’s doing that already, right?”

You storm out of there and up the stairs to your room the way a child behaves when denied of her sweets, but Sasha, Jean, and Connie know this is more than some childish outburst or tantrum.

You don’t notice the pained look on their faces as they watch you walk away from them, but it’s there. Plain and visible to see. They hate seeing you this way. They know you’re hurting and lonely and struggling with the darkness threatening to consume you, but they have no power or say to alleviate your suffering. All they can do is watch over you helplessly and hope you don’t stray too far away from them they can no longer reach you.

—

Later that night, you’re taking out your frustrations in physical combat and trying to gain back some sense of control with Jean down in the basement. You’ve been at it for the past two hours without pause. You’re both tired and drenched in sweat but you haven’t called it quits yet and Jean knows how much you need this so he won’t stop until you do.

He’s holding a body pad in front of him to serve as your target and to shield him from your kicks and punches. You’re about to throw another series of hits his way when movement over your shoulder catches Jean’s attention. He straightens and bares his teeth, turning hostile.

“You,” Jean snarls over your shoulder in disgust.

Your back is to the door so you don’t see who it is that’s just walked in, but you know there’s only one person that can get Jean riled up that way. You let your fighting stance fall and turn to the door behind you to find Eren walking down the steps leading down the basement. Historia follows right after him, both of them still in their office attire.

Eren’s bright green eyes are blazing and firmly locked on you as he cuts across the room to confront you, looking every bit upset.

“You’re being targeted?” Eren asks you angrily. “You knew about this and you still left last night?”

A muscle in your jaw twitches at the bold accusation, very much aware of Jean’s presence behind you. You’re not facing him but you can imagine the level of shock on his face at Eren’s words.

“He was with you last night?” Jean demands. There’s a hint of jealousy in his voice mixed with outrage at hearing how you let Eren accompany you rather than someone from your inner circle. But instead of answering him, you throw an accusatory glare at Historia who stands beside Eren like some mother hen guarding over her chick despite him towering over her. Connie must have told her about Armin’s warning regarding Bertholdt’s loyalists and for some reason found the need to tell Eren about it.

Yet the girl doesn’t look as apologetic as she should.

“If Eren’s the only one Ymir is allowing to be around you,” Historia reasons with you, “he deserves to know.”

You scoff dismissively. “What good is he going to do? He needs more saving than I do.”

Eren’s cheeks flush at the memory of what happened at the train station the night before and he averts your gaze, ashamed.

You smirk, his reaction proving your point, and you turn away to practice your knife throwing with the cardboard shooting target stationed at the back of the room, thinking you’ve put an end to this conversation.

But Historia is quick to follow after you, not at all done with you yet.

“So train him,” she urges as you collect some of your favorite daggers from where you had laid them out on a nearby table with the rest of your weapons and holsters. “There’s no harm in him learning how to fight.”

You ignore her as she continues to talk, taking aim and releasing a few of your blades at the intended target in front of you, each of your daggers hitting home with deadly precision and landing with a sharp thud.

“If you give him a gun and some time to practice he—”

“Enough Historia!” you cut off, whirling on her and slicing the air between you with the remaining dagger in your hand to silence her.

She backs away, unnerved by the weapon in your hand as you take a menacing step towards her. “Despite what you like to believe, I am not running some damn charity ward. If I invest my time in someone, it’s because they have something worth investing.” You point to Eren behind her with the blade in your hand. “And he has neither the strength, the skillsets—least of all the spine—needed to survive here. You want to hand him a gun to play with? Be my guest. But when it comes down to it, he will never have what it takes to pull the trigger.” Your eyes lock with Eren. “No amount of training or fighting will change that.”

Losing your desire to continue training, you leave for the door, clutching the blade tightly in your hand to keep you from completely losing it as you roughly brush past Eren and Historia.

Eren curls his hands into fists and grits out quietly, “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

You stop in your tracks, unable to let this slide. “Oh, you’ve shown me exactly what you’re capable of,” you drawl out dryly, turning on your heels to face him again. “And you, Eren Yeager, really don’t want to die.”

Eren lowers his gaze, flexing his jaw, unable to deny the way he cowered against death the night before.

“Not that there’s any shame in that,” you add with a shrug. “All men fear dying, especially when death is staring you in the face. You reacted just as any normally sane human-being would react.”

Anger quickly replaces Eren’s shame as his eyes snap to you. “And what of your reaction? Why put yourself in that position at all? To prove a point? Your father trusts me to keep you out of—”

“My father?!” you snarl incredulously, annoyed by his own ignorance. “Have you not realized it yet?” Your head tilts to the side as you commence to approach him. “The sole reason my father assigned you to me wasn’t because you asked him to. Or because he saw some godly potential in you.” Eren frowns as you draw nearer, subtly noting how violently you’re swinging the blade in your hand as you speak. “Make no mistake. My father wants you dead. If he agreed to your request, it was to punish me. Because he thinks you have some hold over me.”

Eren braces himself as you come to stand before him with eyes cold and hard as stone. “But he miscalculated. Whether you live or die makes no difference to me.”

Fighting back a flinch, Eren forces himself to swallow down your words.

Historia, on the other hand, is a different matter. “So you’re just going to let him die out of spite?” she asks in disapproval, unable to tamper that caring nature of hers. “He’s risking his life for you! The least you could do is provide him with the means to survive.”

You flash her a crooked smile. “OR I could just kill him now. Why prolong the inevitable, right? We all know his number was up the day he crossed my path anyway.”

Historia glowers at the suggestion, hating that you were mocking her, before exhaling sharply, her fists still curled tightly at her side.

“Fine,” she hisses through her teeth. Without warning, she turns on her heels and moves with fierce strides towards the armory room in the back of the training room. “If you won’t train him, then I will.”

But the dagger is out of your hands and strikes the wooden door of the armory across the room like lightning, making Historia freeze in place as it lands inches away from the side of her head.

“No,” you tell her firmly. “You will not.”

Eren whirls at you, eyes wide with alarm, but you ignore him as your gaze slides over to Jean in warning.

“None of you will,” you say to him. “Is that understood?”

Historia turns, aghast. “Then you’ve sentenced him to die!”

You throw Eren a meaningful look, reminding him that you had given him the chance to leave last night and he refused to take it. “He has done that himself.”

“To protect you!” Historia cries out, moving towards you, but Eren quickly steps in her path, holding her back.

“Historia, don’t,” you hear him urge, wanting to calm her down. “Please, stop. It’s okay.”

You watch her struggle in Eren’s arms with a look of disgust. “You have heart, Historia—I’m painfully aware of that,” you say, taking a few steps forward to look down on her. “And I tolerate it because you are useful to me and my father. But if you don’t like how I run things, by all means.” You point to the stairs leading out of the room. “There’s the door. Leave.”

Historia stumbles back, stricken. Your threat hits home, making her look over to Eren helplessly because as much as she wants to help Eren she won’t go against you. She feels too indebted to you for all you’ve done for her to try.

Just then, the door to the basement opens and Levi comes walking down the stairs. Alone. He’s still got his dark coat and gloves on which means he’s come straight from dealing with underground business. Still, he doesn’t look hurt or covered in blood so whatever type of work it had been was done quickly and clean.

His deadpan gaze does a quick survey of the people in the room before resting his grey eyes on you.

“We need to talk,” is all he says to you, but based on that dark look on his face, you’re sure as hell not going to like it.

Jean and Historia get the hint and start to leave. Eren starts to follow right after but Levi throws a hand over Eren’s chest and shoves him back.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” Levi growls at him.

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your chest while Eren, Historia, and Jean all frown in confusion. But Eren does as he’s told and stays put while Historia and Jean leave the basement to give you all some privacy.

When its just the three of you, Levi exhales sharply. “Lord Reiss is hosting a charity event this weekend,” he begins to inform you slowly, “and your father has been invited to attend. He expects you, me, and Eren to join him—”

You let out a sharp laugh and walk away before he can even finish his sentence. “Like hell.” Just the idea of being trapped in the same room as those duplicitous, stuck up fiends with their false smiles and empty laughs was suffocating enough.

“Anya,” Levi chides behind you.

“No.”

“This isn’t a request.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going.”

“You will if you want him to terminate your confinement.”

You stop dead in your tracks, hands curling into fists at your side. Annoyed that your father knew you wouldn’t be able to turn away from this.

“He doesn’t need me there,” you insist through clenched teeth, keeping your back to him. “You’re his business partner, not me,” you add petulantly, glowering at him over your shoulder before resuming your exit. “You deal with them.”

“You’re his daughter and heir,” Levi counters. “He needs you there at his side, to support him.”

You turn on your heels to face him. “Support him with what?” you demand. “He knows I detest the whole lot of them. I have no reason for being there…” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow, offering him a sly grin. “Unless he wants me to burn the place to the ground? If so, I’ll gladly help him with that.”

Levi replies to you with a dark smile of his own. “Darling, if you so much as threaten anyone or give off the slightest impression of looking someone the wrong way, your father will not hesitate to take you back to the countryside. And I, for one, will do nothing to stop him.”

“Do it and you’ll be dragging my dead corpse back with you,” you snarl, eyes unyielding. You refuse to step foot in that cursed place for as long as you live.

Levi growls in distaste at your threat. “Then do as you’re told.”

Before you can counter back, Levi turns to Eren. “As for you. Despite my deep opposition, Ymir insists on keeping you as part of the company.” He shoves a manila envelope at Eren’s chest for him to take. “You have until the night of the event to familiarize yourself with the guest list and the names of the ones highlighted. If you’re as good as they claim, you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. So find yourself a suit worthy for the night. This is a black-tie event, so play the part and act like you belong there.” Levi’s sharp gaze cuts to you and adds, “Both of you.”

You answer him by flipping him off and walking away.

—

On the night of the charity event, you make your way out of your room with a deep sense of unease nestled in your chest.

There’s a reason your father wants you present at this event — it can’t be solely just to torture you. But if you don’t see this through, as your father evidently wants you to, you won’t ever know why. So you force yourself down the hall towards the staircase whilst ignoring the way your insides burn at the thought of what this night might entail.

As you reach the head of the stairs, you find Levi waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase looking aloof and dangerous as always. But bloody hell, even from this distance he looks more handsome and more human than you’ve ever seen him. And you don’t think its possible but you feel yourself falling even more in love with him.

Your fiancé wears a finely tailored black tux over a white dress shirt that makes him appear sharp and elegant. Nothing like the dark tailored suits he usually wears when out in the field that give him a far more lethal, rugged, and intimidating appearance. His dark curtained hair that usually hangs over his eyes is parted to the side and combed back, giving him a more boyish, princely appearance that painfully reminds you of when he was a boy…Perhaps because his mother used to style his hair in that same manner. The bow tie pinned at his collar doesn’t help in the least.

You would have stood there and admired him all night long, but your black heels announce Levi of your presence at the top of the stairs and he swiftly turns to you in attention, ready to escort you to Lord Reiss’ estate—not only as his fiancée but as the daughter and heir to one of the most highly influential businessman of his time, Thomas Ymir.

But Levi is not prepared by what he sees before him.

As a testament of your father’s well-established nobility, you wear a strapless, skin tight black dress with a high molded waist-line and elbow length black gloves, all made of the finest material. Your long hair is held up with hairpins sharp enough to stab a man’s arteries and fashioned in a loose up-do with a few stray strands left at the front to frame your face. But underneath, strapped to your thighs and tucked inside your gloves, are daggers of all forms, sharp enough to pierce a man’s heart.

The second Levi catches sight of you, he swallows heavily, looking stunned and completely mesmerized. Yet it’s the way he watches you descend down the stairs, eyes running down the length of your figure that makes your stomach twist with longing. And you suddenly think, maybe this night is worth all the hassle, if it means him looking at you the way he does now. Like you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever seen and he can’t afford to look away.

You smirk in spite of yourself.

“Are you impressed, my lord?” you ask as he offers his hand for you to take the minute you arrive at the foot of the stairs.

His eyes drop down to your tinted, blood red lips as you speak. They linger there as he replies softly, “I’m always impressed by you.”

He leans forward, aching for a taste of you, but despite your attraction to him, you’re still upset with him for making you come to this event with him. Before he can touch his lips with yours, you pointedly turn away. This rewards you with a resentful smile from him, but he gets the message and doesn’t try again.

That’s when you notice he’s holding something in his other hand. A medium sized, dark navy, velvet jewelry box. You raise an eyebrow. “Is that meant to impress me?”

His eyes flicker to where your attention is drawn and he straightens, attempting to recover from your teasing. He opens the box to reveal what looks like a fifty something carat worth diamond necklace and matching earrings.

“A gift,” Levi explains. “From your father.”

You stare at it for a moment, breath-taken. But its beauty is not what has your heart caught in your throat. You feel Levi take your hand and walk you over to the closest mirror in the foyer, wanting you to see how it looks on you.

As you stand in front of the oval shaped mirror, you watch through your reflection as Levi removes the necklace first from out of the box and clasp it securely around your neck. You feel the coldness of the stones against your skin instantly but it brings you a strange sense of comfort. Makes their existence all the more real.

“He wishes for you to wear it tonight,” you hear Levi say beside you, studying your reaction closely in the mirror. “He says it was—”

“My mothers,” you finish distantly, touching the stones around your neck and admiring the way the diamonds sparkle against the light of the hallway like newly dead stars in the night sky.

Your eyes glisten with nostalgia as you remember of the times you saw her wear it for your father. The most expensive, luxurious thing he first bought your mother after Ymir & Co became legalized.

“He’s really trying to make a statement with this, isn’t he?” you say as a means to break out of your reminiscing. “Pulling out something so valuable.” You reach for the diamond earrings still in the jewelry box and put them on yourself. “What is this all even worth, like 80k?”

Levi chuckles, placing the empty jewelry box on the console under the mirror. “You’re worth much more than that, love.”

You turn to face him with a raised eyebrow, confused.

“Darling,” he tells you, raising a hand to caress your cheek tenderly, “his most prized possession isn’t something so easily replaceable. What he values most is you.”

There’s an intensity in his gaze as he says this that lets you know he isn’t just speaking for your father anymore, but for himself. And you might believe it, if either one of them was the least bit capable of expressing it on their own.

Guess it runs in the family.

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missesstargirl · 5 days ago

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what would be like with touchy bsf!eren...

Being best friends with eren since high school meant that he had a different relationship with you that with his middle school friends.

You guys were touchier, teen hormones that seem to never go away with you too. His moody persona disappear when he was with you.

He will pull you into his bed during movie nights like it was nothing. Still let your legs drape over his lap, his hands finding home on your bare skin without a second thought. It never felt awkward. You noticed how often he let his fingers linger at the crease of your knee, or how his eyes sometimes dropped to your mouth mid-conversation, then snapped back like he hadn’t just imagined something else entirely, but you didn't care.

It was weird if you didn't have your legs in his lap while scrolling on your phone, or for him to rest his hand on your bare thigh without thinking twice. It was just how you were. Close best friends.

“Your hands are cold,” you said one night, barely looking up from your screen as his fingers slid under the hem of your shorts.

He smirked. “Then stop wearing these tiny pajamas around me.”

“You literally saw me buy them and told me to get the one with little doves in them.”

"And you got them, so don't complain about it"

He took his hand and the quick action made your body shift demanding them back, which he glady understoond and lay them back again. One by the end of your shorts and the under around your chest.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t complain again. If anything, you shifted just slightly so his hand settled closer. It stayed there — warm now, thumb brushing against the inside of your thigh in lazy strokes. Neither of you said anything for a while. The TV was still playing. His hands traveled you body all night with no limitations in sight.

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got inspired by @satoruined and her bsf gojo!! go and read is life changing

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angelsdevils · 2 years ago

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A Titan's Heartache: Marcel x Reader

If you want to read the disclaimer please go to the initial Master list for this story.

Warning: Spoilers appear in this. If you do not want to be tagged or don't want to be spoiled please do not read this story

Word Count:

Master List | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

If you wanna be tagged, let me know

Tag List: @missmadness123 @galactict3a @pseudophyllus @staymoarmyzen @black0pirate0cat @rl800 @reiners-milkbiddies @bobateasilverpearl @sapphire-gemm @beansofskittles cockonoi @mochalate @sunaraii

[Marcel’s POV]

It was now year 847 and I joined the 104th Regiment Corps with Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie. After realizing that we would have more information after joining the Military Police we all agreed this would be the best action to take for now. We also decided to take our time with the mission to ensure it was a successful mission. I still carried the weight with the other warriors of the mission that had already taken a toll on our mental state. I still remember seeing all the people getting eaten by the titans. Me and Annie were running for our lives literally because we couldn’t just transform into titans like Bertholdt and Reiner was or else someone would have seen us.

The sun bathed the training grounds in a golden hue, my gaze lingered on the towering walls of the military complex - a symbol of both the protection and confinement. I understood why the walls were necessary, to protect them from titans but at the same time, it was suffocating. Of course it was, but some people were content but I met a guy named Eren Yeager, who planned to join the scouts so he could fight for freedom. The kid is crazy, but I get it completely. In a way the Eldians of Marley were also stuck behind walls, not literally but the Marleyans treat us as monsters. I just had to remember I was doing this for my family so they could have a little more freedom.

Morning drills echoed with the rhythm of wood meeting wood, panting, and grunts, the cadence of footsteps resonating with hope and aspirations to be great soldiers, though I was no soldier, I was a Marleyan Warrior. Amidst the training, my gaze fell upon her - (Y/N) (L/N) - a fellow recruit whose roots seemed to intertwine with the very essence of nature. Little did I know that our paths were destined in ways I would never imagine.

In the moments of our exercises, our eyes met. She gave me the sweetest of smiles, and I swear my heart almost jumped out of my chest. She had an air of mystery surrounding her, and I was falling in love with her with just a simple look. As the sun casted it’s rays down on us, she glowed in the light. She was soon paired with me as a sparring partner, and I wasn’t sure if I would survive this alone with how fast my heart was racing. For only the time being, I forgot all about my mission.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, just because you are a girl,” I said to her. Her laughter filled the air, and I felt my cheeks warm.

“If you went easy on me, this sparring session would be pointless.”

She left me no time to respond as she charged at me. I dodged her movements, but she was like water flowing freely. She twisted her body, knocking my knife out of my hand. I grabbed her wrist, but she flipped over my shoulder, and held her wooden knife to my throat. I went to elbow her but she dodged my attack.

We caught the attention of the other trainees, and the Chief instructor, Shadis. I managed to grab my wooden knife, but she was quicker. How could someone be so fluid in their motions and quick at the same time? Her fighting style was different yet beautiful, almost like a dance. Lost in my thoughts and going through the motions, she managed to swipe my feet from under me, and pinned me to the ground, her wooden knife once again to my throat.

“I think I win this one,” she said in a teasing tone. I cracked a smile, before rolling us over so I pinned her down instead.

“I don’t accept defeat that easily,” I retorted.

“Maybe you should.”

“Huh?” I was confused, before she head butted me hard and I fell backwards, “Ow.” I rubbed my head, but she kicked me on my back, her boot on my chest, and she stood up. I was shocked, and blushed as she looked down at me.

“Accept defeat?”

“Yeah, I accept defeat. I think I need ice for my forehead.”

She let me up, and smiled. She offered me a hand, and I took it standing up.

“(L/N), where did you learn those moves?” Chief instructor asked her, and she saluted him.

“Sir, my mother and grandmother taught me. They both joined the scouts.”

“I see, I knew your last name sounded familiar. You have a head jump on the rest of trainees then, your grandmother and mother were (mother’s name) and (grandmother’s name) right? They were one of the founders of the scouts, as well as the strongest.”

“Yes, sir.”

Everything made sense now, she has trained probably since she was so young, her family probably taught her how to be graceful yet deadly. Shadis walked away after they were done talking. She turned to me and gave me that sweet smile again, and I smiled back.

“My name is Marcel, Marcel Galliard.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you Marcel.”

She walked away to grab her water bottle, and in that moment I forgot about the mission, my thoughts were on her alone.

©[@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

#aot #attack on titan #marcel galliard #reiner braun #annie leonhart #bertholdt hoover #marcel galliard x reader #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #Jean Kirstein #Marco Bott #Levi Ackerman #a Titan's Heartache #angelsdevils

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nectardaddy · 2 years ago

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Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 1

** This story will involve some level of spoilers, please proceed with caution. Also a lot of this story involves adult scenarios (i.e.: war, blood, gore, death, etc...) Despite this, I will try my best to balance out dark themes with more soft, wholesome ones. Please enjoy!

NOTE: this story is on Wattpad as well I AM THE AUTHOR

Prologue Seven years ago

Things were scattered across the wooden floor in a frenzy: cups, plates, cutlery, papers, chairs, all laid on the floor, some pieces broken and cracked. His older sibling tried to stop the boy's rampage; however, you stayed put and watched. Porco's pale knuckles were bloody and bruised from throwing and hitting everything in sight. All the young boy could see at the moment was red. You watched as his older brother finally got hold of him, grabbing him in a hug and not letting go. Porco struggled against it, his fit of rage unending from the yellow armband that should've been red. You couldn't seem to move as you watched the scene in front of you unfold; Porco's thrashing around, eagerly trying to escape his brother's grip, seemed to have no end in sight.

"It's not fair!" He screamed, "Reiner never deserved the Armor and everyone knows it!" The young boy's voice cracked at the end, holding back tears as he continued to yell. Grey eyes locked with yours as he struggled against his brother - the pain was evident. Marcel tried to ease his brother's anger; telling him it was alright, he could live a longer life, and he would still be an honorary Marleyan, but the blonde wouldn't listen. He was so young and full of hope, but it was stripped away from him when he was forced to keep the yellow arm band. Forced to remain a candidate.

"Let him go," you mumbled, catching Marcel's attention. But he ignored you, his brother was still in no state to be released. "I said let him go, Marcel," you spoke firmly. Your words held a certain authority that frightened him, and he hesitantly let his younger brother go. But the blonde's rage wasn't over, his eyes flickered to his brother who took a step back from him. His brother who now had a red armband, just like the five other candidates - except him. His pale hands met with his brother's chest and shoved him, Marcel being pushed into the table. Finally, you took a step forward, and another, until you were in front of the younger brother who was staring down the eldest.

You wrapped your arms around the male, embracing him. It wasn't harsh, nor rough, you held him gently, hugging him. You felt the boy's body suddenly tense from your action, he was taken back. But this was the final crack in the dam that held back his tears. He didn't reciprocate your embrace, but he welcomed it as hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. A small sob racked his body before he leaned his head on your shoulder, the sleeve of your shirt becoming damp. You held him a bit tighter as he cried, he had never shown this amount of emotion in front of you, or anyone, before. You stayed silent, as did his brother, and let the boy cry out his pent up emotions. "I have to spend the next thirteen years alone. . ." he cried.

His words made you pull away, the suddenness of it taking him by surprise. His eyes were red and his cheeks wet with tears as he looked at you. "You have me," you spoke quietly, "just because I wasn't a candidate doesn't make me any less of your friend. I'll still be here."

1 Present Day

The red armband he wore was in stark contrast to your own gray one as you walked side by side. The street was dirty and unkept, having to step over litter every now and then. The buildings you passed were the same, they were old and run down. The internment zone was nothing like the outside; however, you couldn't remember how beautiful the outside was. The only time you saw the world beyond the gates was at six years old; the Warrior program allowed Eldian children the chance of inheriting the power of the Titans - you however did not make the cut. Long days of running, fighting, and training resulted only in returning back home, not a candidate and not an honorary Marleyan.

But the young man beside you was different in all regard, he was a Warrior, an honorary Marleyan, he held the power of the Jaw Titan. You held nothing at all, only the misery of forever being second-class. But the male beside you felt nothing but grief, despite getting what he had always wanted. The death of his brother made him realize just how cruel the world was, and he dreaded the day that he had to see the memories of the girl before him devour his older sibling.

"I'm glad they're giving you a small break from training, I never really see you anymore," you stated and he was pulled from his thoughts. Your statement held truth, he rarely saw his friends and family in the internment zone. He was constantly surrounded by Marleyan soldiers or the other Warriors as he trained, learning to make the power of the Jaw his own. He no longer had the luxury of fooling around like he used to. He no longer had the time to be in your company, something he learned to enjoy over the years before.

"It's good to see you again, (Y/n)," his words were soft in contrast to his appearance. The male held a standoffish aura around him, his face blank, and his hands in his pockets. "How long has it been, exactly?" He asked, his grey eyes now flicking to you.

"Around two months," your quick reply took him by surprise. He turned his gaze to the path in front of him, leading no where in particular. He let a hum pass his lips as he kept walking. He didn't know it had been that long. He trained every day and rarely ever could tell what day it was anymore, he truly didn't now that many days had passed. He knew you missed him, a part of him missed you as well. You were the only one capable of sticking around all these years, and he had grown accustomed to seeing you regularly.

The time spent apart wore on him, even though it was a short time, so much had happened within the two months. He didn't know what to say, what to talk about, or how to act. Thoughts that were drilled into him him from the brass overwhelmed the thoughts of small talk and friendship. "How are you doing?" His words didn't hold the same confidence as before, he felt like a stranger to you.

"I could ask the same to you, Pock," you sighed. His nickname brought back memories he had forgotten, or placed in the back of his mind. The flood of memories played out in his mind and he stayed silent, letting his thoughts run wild. You had first heard the nickname from Marcel, hearing him tease his brother until the name slipped. You copied Marcel, earning a glare and a curt "shut up," from Porco. From then on the name stuck with you.

"I'm just tired," he spoke and kicked a small rock in front of him. Despite the truth in his statement, fatigue wasn't the only thing troubling him. He felt lost. He didn't quite grasp how to separate his "job" from his home, something his fellow Warriors seemed to understand. The drastic change in lifestyle was something he hadn't settled with; training as a candidate was much different than training as a Titan. As a candidate, he had more time at home - especially in the years of not being selected - but now he barely saw his home. He'd come home late, or not at all, then be up again in the early hours of the morning. He had forgotten how to relax.

"So much has happened in such a short time, I'm just trying to keep up," he admitted. "This is a well needed break." He sighed at his own words, he hoped to feel one with himself again after the few days he had off.

"A well deserved break as well," you added. "You look exhausted," you commented on his state. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair wasn't as pristine as usual, and his uniform looked slightly disheveled. He didn't look as put together as usual and it worried you. "They're working you too hard."

"You might be right, but they have every reason to. There are rumors of going to war with the Mid-East Alliance, and we can't afford to be down another Titan, we've already lost two." The young man was no longer as cheerful as he once was, though he never had a bubbly personality, he was able to find joy in things but now that seemed to be forgotten. The rumors of war terrified you, you were at the age to be selected to fight - Eldians were more than expendable and the Marleyans would use every last one if they had to.

Although the idea scared you, you pushed it to the back of your mind, "try not to think about that right now. It'll only wear on you more, just try to make the most of your time off." You spoke with a soft smile and looked over to him, trying to ease the war inside of him. "Since you finally have the time, we should look at the stars like we did when we were kids. Try not to lose the ladder this time though," you joked, bringing up past memories.

The memory made his lips pull into a small smile. He and his brother would climb to the roof of their small house every night to look at the stars; Marcel was the one who taught him the constellations. You soon joined their nightly ritual, Marcel inviting you; imagining you climbing up the ladder to the roof every night without fail made him happy. The memory you had spoken of would make him laugh if he were by himself, his own idiocy getting the best of him.

It was late at night and you all had decided to get some rest. Porco decided he would go down first, not yet learning the importance of patience with his peers. His foot slipped on the top rung and he pulled himself back onto the roof before the ladder clattered the ground.

"What was that? Did you get scared, Pock?" His brother teased, seeing his younger brother's wide eyes. The eldest walked over to the edge of the roof where the youngest was and looked down, "Porco! You didn't!" He yelled as he looked down at the ladder that now rested on the ground.

"Shut up Marcel! I didn't mean to!" He yelled back. The yelling peaked your interest and you joined the boys on the edge and looked down. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation, even if it meant you were stuck. "Stop laughing! It's not funny, you idiot!"

But you didn't, his outburst only made you giggle more. "I thought you'd both be smarter than this, being Warrior candidates and all." You commented, earning a huff from the brothers. "Someone can pick it up in the morning. It's warm tonight, we won't die up here or anything."

"You will never let go of that will you?" He asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. "Hell, I might do it again for old times sake," he spoke with a smile. This was what he missed in the two months of training: talking to you and joking around. He felt like this was the rhythm he was supposed to be in, but he was still a few beats off.

You chuckled, "I don't think people will be as willing to help. When we were kids it was endearing and cute, but we're older now, they might just think we're out right stupid." You looked over to him and sighed silently; this was the Porco you earnestly wished to see again. You missed the sentimental young man, not the one you were met with before. The one you met today was cold and beaten, tired and bruised; it made your heart ache. You were glad to see a piece of himself was still there under the rough exterior.

"Especially if Zeke is the one the get the ladder again," he groaned.

The three of you grabbed onto the edge of the roof and leaned over just enough to peer down. It was the early hours of the morning, and the only ones awake would be those in the Warrior program. You patiently waited for the young Yaeger boy to turn the corner and appear on the path that the Galliard family lived on. Zeke took the path every day to join with both Galliard brothers in the morning on the walk to the gate; today was no different.

"There he is!" You yelled and pointed to the blonde with glasses who had turned the corner.

"Well it took you long enough didn't it!" Porco yelled to the young boy on the ground. Confusion was written on the boy's face as he looked around to see where the voice came from, but was met with no one on the ground. "Up here!" The glasses clad male finally looked up and cocked his head, seeing all three of you on the roof. He looked back down to see the ladder on the ground and finally pieced together why his comrades were up there. The young man burst into a fit of laughter upon looking back up.

"Please! Please tell me you're stuck!" In between laughs, "this is too good, I'm telling everyone about this!"

"Can you please just prop the ladder up Zeke? We don't want to be late," the eldest brother explained. In contrast, Porco sat with his arms crossed and huffed at the laughter from below.

"Who got you stuck?" He asked, now holding his stomach from giggling and laughing. "Wait, wait! Lemme' guess! It was definitely Pock, wasn't it?"

"Don't call me that, halfwit! Get the damn ladder so we can go!" Porco yelled.

His outburst only made Zeke laugh harder, "what's the magic word, Galliard?"

"The magic word is get the ladder before I break your arm!"

You laughed at the memory, "then let's not drop the ladder this time then." Your laughter slowly stopped before you looked to him. "I'll see you tonight then on the roof?" You asked, hoping to get the answer you wanted. You wanted to see him more, to speak with him, to spend time with him again. You couldn't quite understand it, but you wanted to be in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, he felt similarly. A part of him couldn't let the thought of you go, you were always there in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," he agreed. He needed the familiarity again, his life changed so suddenly and all he wanted around him where things he knew well and could understand. You were one of them. Other than his parents, you were the one that felt most like home. Not a Warrior, not a candidate, you were simply Eldian - what he needed.

#porco galliard #aot porco #aot #attack on titan #porco x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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kaigarax · 2 years ago

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Everything I Could Never Say

Porco Galliard x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you knew." & "Fall in love with someone that inspires you."

Someone You Loved: Featuring the Soldier

Porco Galliard had been acquainted with death all his life.

He’d never personally gotten very close to death but many of the most important people in his life had been taken away. Death was like a friend of a friend that you’ve never quite liked but never been able to leave behind. Though, Porco supposes that choosing a life in the military wasn’t the smartest choice if he hoped to avoid death.

From his brother Marcel who died when he was twelve during an accident to his best friend Pieck who died when he was twenty one during their first deployment. The countless soldiers he’s fought side by side with seemingly nothing but nameless faces in the wind.

And now, it seems, you.

Porco can’t help but feel awkward as he stands at the entrance. There’s a light drizzle in the sky yet it does nothing to cool the weather. It’s humid and Porco’s suit sticks to him. It also doesn't help that his arms and legs ache from the long flight. He’d been working out in hopes of getting the stress out but it seems as though his stress has come back full force in the shape of both mental and physical anguish.

Your parents had invited him to the service the day before but he hadn’t been able to get the time off. At least he’d be able to attend with everyone else. Actually, it’s quite fitting because while Porco had been close with you growing up he feels as though you’re almost a stranger now.

It’s a horrible thing to realize and even more devastating to think about yet seems almost fitting.

The woman standing at the counter greets him with a slight nod of her head as she asks for his name.

She hands Porco a badge and name tag.

It’s not his name that’s been written down.

Of course it was something like this. Something you would have loved. Not just would Porco not know anyone there but he wouldn’t be able to pretend to know them either. You always did seem to find amusement over stupid little things like this. But it was one of the things he loved about you.

The room’s larger than it looks. It’s white and round, with photos lined up across the walls. It looks more like an art exhibit than what it really is. But you would have liked it that way. In fact, Porco wouldn’t be all too surprised to hear that you planned this all out yourself.

The horrible ache in his arms and leg suddenly doesn't seem to bother him as much. The pain suddenly seems so little. So little compared to the aching in his chest.

He never realised how much he missed you.

It’s as though all those feelings he’d pushed down suddenly came rushing back and crashing down. The world around him is spinning and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He wants to run out but his feet don’t move. It’s hard to focus his eyes and he has to squint to look at the photo in front of him.

The man in the frame looks deeply concentrated on something in front of him. The camera’s capture him from his profile and highlights the ginamours background behind him. The spotlights seemed to have all turned to point at him, as if saying that ‘here is the main character. Watch him succeed’. Porco thinks that he can almost hear the cheers and feel the anticipation of the crowd as they wait for something incredible to happen.

You chose not the moment before or after but right then, before the world comes crashing down. Like the deep breath right before a storm. The words ‘with baited breath we await the storm’ are engraved at the bottom.

It’s… a nice photo.

Porco wonders if there’s one of him too.

What you might have written down for him.

His erratic heart seems to find some calm in the photos you’ve left behind. No, he thinks, they aren’t photos but rather art. The blood, sweat and tears that you gave in hopes of leaving something greater than you behind. The pieces of you that would forever stay here in the world of the living. Did you regret leaving something as amazing as this behind? Did you regret leaving-

The photo of him surprises him. Porco remembers the day you took that very one. He remembers how you pestered him for the entirety of the day in hopes that he would go with you to see the fireworks. How excited you were because your parents had finally gotten you the camera you had been begging for.

You had wanted to take a photo of the starry sky and light show.

And Porco had been in such a bad mood that day.

He’d been upset about something stupid his brother had done and wouldn’t do anything productive until Marcel apologised. Of course Marcel never apologised and you had done almost everything you could to make him smile.

Actually, now that Porco thinks about it, he doesn't think you ever did see the fireworks that day. After taking that photo you had left, your cheeks flushed red.

Truthfully, Porco thinks he looks a little… cute. Of course he looks every bit of the snot-nosed brat but even brats can be adorable children.

The words ‘Take 574’ are plastered beneath its portrait.

He once told you that he believed there were exactly 574 stars in the sky. Of course, being an adult, Porco now knows that there are millions (if not billions) of stars in the sky but that number had been so large. One of the largest numbers he had been able to count up to back then. It’s funny to think how small the world seemed to the two of you.

Back when Porco thought that it would only always just be the two of you.

He used to think that that was how the world would always be. Him, you and everyone else.

It’s a shame that life did not allow it to progress the way he had hoped it would. Though, that’s likely mostly to the fault of him. He’s almost certain both yours and his lives would have been different if Porco had…

“You’re that boy from the earlier photos, the Soldier, aren’t you?”

Porco turns to see the Mentalist. A man with dual coloured hair split straight down the middle. You talked about him quite a bit in your letters. About his brilliant mind and how thrilled you were when he had chosen to take you under his wing.

Looking at him now, Porco isn’t all too sure why you were so enamoured with him. Sure, he has a flashy appearance but he doesn't seem to exude the same brilliance you spoke of. Perhaps it’s just perspective? Though Porco has always been rather biased when it comes to the Mentalist. Afterall, why would you need to be tutored by someone in a different profession?

“Yeah.” Porco gives the Mentalist a slight nod, “how’d you know? Most people are surprised when they learn it’s me in those photos.”

The Mentalist smiles, “you have the same eyes.”

Porco raises a brow.

“And the same expressions.” Adds a newcomer.

The pair turn to see a white haired man. Porco instantly recognizes him as the Athlete. He’s shorter than Porco would have expected. Average height for an average person but definitely short for a professional athlete. He has startling eyes, something akin to a bird, and a very loud voice.

Porco recognizes him, not because of his exotic features or fame but because of you. He was, afterall, your latest muse. Or rather… last muse.

The Mentalist turns to look at the newcomer, a curious look in his eyes, “the Athlete?”

The Athlete flushes, “I was never really a fan of that title.”

“Why so?’ Asks the Mentalist.

“Because it always felt so…” the Athlete trails off, looking into the distance towards a photo of you.

“Different from who you felt you were?” Suggest Porco.

“Yeah.” says the Athlete, his gaze still glued to your photo.

Porco eyes follow the Athlete’s. He’s surprised that they managed to find such a recent photo of you. Actually, he’s surprised they managed to find one of you at all. You always did prefer to be behind the lens. It captures that youthful glow Porco remembers you having. You don’t have dirt in your hair or the baby fat that lingered into your early teens, but you have all the same warmth and excitement.

“You know, those are the titles she picked for you,” the Mentalist smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes, “I think she would have wanted you to look a little deeper into it.”

Porco snorts, “and what’s yours supposed to mean, Mentalist?”

“Well, I’m a magician, aren’t I? She was always very impressed by my extraordinary mental prowess.” The Mentalist smirks though Porco can see the sadness in his eyes, “though when she said it, she always meant eccentric. Considered calling it ‘the Mad Man’ at some point.”

Perhaps he had been too quick to judge him. Afterall, this man had chosen to go to your funeral and final exhibition. This man clearly, at one point, cared about you. This man, despite seeming to be everything Porco stands against, stands here trying to smile because he knows it’s what you would have wanted.

Porco tries his best to muster up a smile, “she wanted to call mine ‘the Brat.’”

The eyes of his two companions seem to fill up with laughter.

The Athlete eventually clears his throat, “did you two know her well?”

“Not as well as I’d like to.” Says the Mentalist.

“At one point,” Porco shrugs, “did you?”

“I’m not sure.” Answers the Athlete.

“Well you’re here so you must have meant something to her.” says Porco.

“And she must have meant something to you.” Adds the Mentalist.

Porco has always wondered what kind of person you turned out to be. The you he remembers is one who always chased after him. A clumsy girl that was scared of almost everything. Did you fall in love easily? Did you stand up for what you believed in? Until now, Porco never really realised how much uncertainty there was surrounding you.

Though, what he does know for certain is that you must have been brilliant. Why else would all these people have come for you?

“So, what’s ‘the Athlete’ supposed to mean?” Asks the Mentalist.

“Oh,” the Athlete flushes, “well it’s actually a bit of an inside joke, I think.”

The Mentalist turns his head to the side, “you think?”

“Well, she always talked about how she admired athletes. Talked about how she loved the way they ‘sparked’. Honestly, I’m surprised she chose me in the end.” There's a small smile that forms in the corner of the Athlete’s mouth, “I guess she couldn’t help but be impressed when she watched me play.”

Porco fights the urge to roll his eyes.

Not at the Athlete’s expense but yours.

Of course you have a type.

“Have any of you talked to the others?” Asks Porco.

“The others?” Questions the Athlete.

The Mentalist turns to look around the room, “the other Muses?”

“Oh,” says the Athlete, “no. Honestly I’m not really familiar with anyone else here. She never really spoke about the other… muses.” The word muse both sounds foreign from the Athlete’s mouth and feels foreign in Porco’s ears. “I’m basically a stranger to everyone else here. What about the two of you?”

“I’m in the same boat as you.” says Porco.

Then they both turn towards the Mentalist.

The Mentalist shrugs, “she always did like her distance.”

And Porco hates how true that statement seems to be and how deep it really sinks.

While the two of you had spent your developmental years together the other half of your life had been spent with you exploring the rest of the world while Porco slaved away in the army. Sure, the two of you exchanged letters but those could never be compared to the raw expressions and emotions that someone had whe face to face with another. A perfectly crafted collage of words and sentences that you’ve chosen to construct in order to create the perfect image that you know he would like to see.

Did he ever really know you at all?

Did either of these two?

Did any of these countless people?

Your distance had always been Porco’s least favourite thing about you. But distance seemed like such a little thing when compared to the vastness of everything else that made you, you. The distance was what made you, you.

The distance between you and Porco was one he could never quite bridge. So he could only ever love you from afar and wonder what it might be like to hear you call out his name. In the middle of a night after a nightmare; in the middle of the day for something mundane; in anger after the midst of an argument; and after the argument with remorse.

Fall in love with someone you knew.

---

Everything I Could Never Say

‘Stay.’

The first painting Porco has ever completed took three years from start to end. He’d always been interested in painting when he was young and dabbled in the art when he entered high school but wouldn’t truly indulge in the art until you left. All the time he’d spent with you would eventually become all the time he’d have to devote to his new hobbies.

For the longest time, the finished painting lay collecting dust in the back of his closet. He was never really pleased with the finished product but never truly found the heart to throw it away.

Eventually, the painting managed to make its way into the hands of an art collector. Porco’s mother had been having a yard sale and he had convinced his mother to throw the piece in with the other items. Someone clearly must have been impressed with the work because he’d soon find himself swept up in a whirlwind.

Now, the painting hangs up against a large white wall.

You’re standing at the edge of the doorframe, in the painting, a warm smile on your face. Your foot is out the door but your head is turned back as if waiting to hear one last message. As if waiting for one last thing. Your eyes are soft as you take everything in for the last time.

It’s Porco’s childhood home that he’s painted you in, recognizable with the ugly stain on the side of the door and messy rack of shoes that’s been pushed up against the wall.

Back then, Porco wanderers if you might have stayed in there just a moment longer if you had known it would be your last time ever seeing the place. And, if you had stayed a moment longer would those words at the tip of his tongue ever be said?

Would he have been able to utter that single word that lay at the tip of his tongue?

No.

Even if you had stayed just a moment longer he knows he would have never said those words. He couldn’t. Not because he was afraid of the rejection but because he knew you would stay if he asked. That a single word from him was all that it would have taken to change the very course of your lives.

But you were never meant for such mundane things.

You were meant to see the world - and how could he be the reason why you’d never get to experience that? The world was meant to see you - and how could he deny the world someone as amazing as you?

---

‘I missed you.’

The second painting was made years after the first. Years after Porco had already mastered and perfected his craft.

He’d been going through a slump when he bumped into you. The both of you happened to be visiting your childhood homes at the same time when you stumbled into one another. Porco had been going for a morning run while you (as usual) were out with your camera. It was almost nostalgic.

You’d been so happy that you practically strong armed him into going to a breakfast joint with you.

So much more grown up then you had been before, yet still with that spark in your eyes. The same bright expression yet your smile seemed to hold so much more wisdom behind it. Ideas and phrases that he’d never imagined you’d say before.

So familiar, yet different.

And that’s where he paints you.

Somewhere in between the state of familiarity and unknown.

There, in the breakfast diner, with a tired smile. You’re resting your head on your arms as you tell stories about the life you’ve managed to live without him. And it feels so different from words on a page. It feels real yet imaginary at the same time.

The slump he’d been going through had seemingly evaporated as he got to work on that painting of you that very afternoon.

Seeing how much you’ve changed back them seemed to set something off in him. It was a good kind of change. One that shows you've grown a lot from the immature and young person you had been before. That life has changed you for the better. It’s the kind of change that everyone goes through at one point but something you never notice until the change has occurred beneath your noses and now you’re a different person.

You’re a different person. Changed. And that thought made Porco happy yet sad at the same time.

And those words lingering in the back of his mind stay. Not because he can’t bring himself to say them but because they only stand to make all the change that has happened seem more real. Seem so… less imaginary. He’s scared that sadness will become the forefront of his mind if he allows himself to utter those words. So he doesn't. So he didn’t.

---

‘Why not?’

Barely a week after Porco’s finished the second painting does he come up with the idea for this one. Refamiliarizing yourselves with one another is an easier process than Porco would have thought. You fit like puzzle pieces. At first he’d been scared that you’d be much too different but he supposes that he had always been quite the pessimist. It’s not as if distance could have changed someone so much. Or at least not someone like you.

Porco’s decided to invite you to the bar, seeing as how you seemed to be experiencing a slump similar to one that he had just the week before.

A fresh environment is always a good way to spark some inspiration - and there’s no harm in a few drinks here and there. Or at least that was what Porco thought before he actually brought you there.

You’re five drinks in with two hours of complaining.

Love has never come easily to most and you had certainly not been an expectation. And that difficulty had brought Porco a long list of complaints and woes about the various troubles you’ve found yourself with.

And it’s this tired and troubled expression that Porco decides to paint you with. It’s so different from the other wistful expressions Porco has made and so different from anything that he’s ever seen you with. It’s refreshing and reminds him that, like him, you’re still young and learning. That there’s also so much life that you have yet to live as well. Of course, there’s still a softness in your eyes.

There always will be, he thinks.

The bar in the background is buzzing with action and Porco tries his best to capture everything. The people dancing in the background, despite no music playing. The bartender swiftly attends to everyone there while the waitress seamlessly moves through the crowd.

And Porco, who has grown weary from listening to your complaints can only think about you. About how he still feels so strongly about you despite knowing that you’ve changed from the innocent and naive girl he knew before. He thinks about how your hand would feel if you were to just reach out and grab it.

He thinks you’d blush bashfully but wouldn’t pull away. Porco has always known of his affect on you and is happy to see that that hasn’t changed.

But he can’t bring himself to ask you to give him a chance. Like before the words just don’t seem to leave his mouth. He can’t see the benefits of risking what you already have for something uncertain. Especially if it doesn't work out.

---

‘You’re my inspiration.’

The fourth painting is created two weeks after the second and third.

Porco’s mother had heard you were in town and basically forced Porco to invite you to dinner before you head out for some other foreign country. You’d been commissioned by some famous singer to take photos of them for their next concert and you were never one to turn down such an exciting job.

You’d leave as early as next Monday but before that you would attend dinner with Porco and his parents.

The dinner was short and mostly filled with subtle hints from his mother that the two of you should get together. Parents always did that, didn’t they? Put their heads into a situation when they think that two individuals would fit together instead of trying to read the room and see why they aren’t. But Porco can blame his mother, not when she looks so happy talking to you.

Eventually, you head into this room (though it’s more like a studio) and see the first three paintings he’s made.

Porco would have thought you’d been weirded out if not a little uncomfortable but you were ecstatic. He daresay inspired. Thinking back on it he supposes that you, being an artist yourself, saw it more as a mutual and professional relationship rather than something romantic and personal.

You told him that he’d be able to make it professional. That his work would go on to be more popular than your own.

Then, for the first time in years, you ask him to take a photo.

Porco paints you with a bright smile. An excited one that resembles the ones you used to always have when you were young. You can’t see the top half of your face as you hold a camera up towards the viewers but anyone looking can tell that looking at him (or the viewer) with a warmth that’s reserved only for those that you hold in the highest regard.

Back then, Porco wondered if you thought about those paintings of his when you left. If you wondered about the other people he might have painted or the other things that might have inspired him.

If you knew that you inspired him.

He never found himself able to tell you that himself. It was simply… too embarrassing. Or at least back then it had been too embarrassing. Now he wonders how you might have reacted if you knew in the first place.

---

‘Would you like to dance?’

A year after your brief meeting in your hometown Porco receives an invitation to your latest showcase. It’s a traditional sort of galla in commemoration of your latest Muse, ‘The Dancer’. Porco doesn't know much about the dancer - just that you happened to meet them while photographing the wedding and were taken aback.

Porco had only decided to attend because the gala was being held close to where he happened to be staying.

And here is where he takes the inspiration for the fifth painting.

Everyone, including you, is wearing masks and beautiful flowing clothes. The women are in bright dresses and the men in warmly coloured tuxedos. The dress code had been formal but Porco hadn’t been expecting something like this. Porco had gone to the gala wearing a dark green suit, his military uniform.

He’s given strange looks but the only gaze that really matters is the one from you.

He paints you from the side as you stare off into the crowd. Your clothing is breezier and lighter than what the others around you are wearing and it matches the green Porco has decided to wear. You’re staring out onto the dance floor but all Porco can see is you.

Your hands are behind you back in the painting. As if you’re peacefully staring out at something scarene.

And here, Porco wonders if you want to head out onto the floor. He wonders if you’d take his hand and dance with him. Everyone here seems to be watching you with baited breath but they don’t seem to come any closer. A distance between you and everyone else.

Would you want to dance with him?

He wonders if you even know he’s there.

But you have always been like this. The kind of person to get so swept up into a single moment. Unaware of everything else around you.

Or course, Porco never does manage to ask you to dance. But how could he? Not while you were looking at someone else the way he looked at you.

---

‘I love you.’

The last painting of you is the last moment Porco had spent with you before everything had come crashing down. But it isn’t painted after that moment. It isn’t painted for years and years. It isn’t painted until then.

The canvas is a mixture of blacks and dark blues with a brilliant array of colourful stars.

You’re standing waist deep in water with you back to the audience staring up at the dark sky being filled with splashes and blurs of colour. Bright pinks, blues, yellows and greens. Momentary flashes of colour that have come to be known as fireworks. Porco tried his best to capture the awe and amazement despite not being able to see your face.

You dragged Porco to the late night carnevil to see the fireworks. The two of you had agreed to meet up a year before but Porco hadn’t been expecting to stay here this late into the night.

The two of you had somehow ended up falling into the water when the fireworks had begun.

It was a brilliant moment.

You loved the flash of colour in the sky.

Porco loved the flash of life he saw in your eyes.

And after that night Porco had planned on painting this picture of you immediately. But then… he got sick. And then life got in the way. One major mission and then another life event. And another day of rest would push it onto the next agenda and so fourth.

And it isn’t until he hears the horrible news that the world around him seems to slow.

No, his world had halted.

In all the pain and misery, Porco finally emerges with this piece of you. A cumulation of his blood, sweat and tears. A cumulation of everything he never managed to say. The three words that he wishes he could have at least told you once.

And it’s strange.

Back then, he’d never been able to say those words - and he doesn't think he ever would have even if things had been different. He’d have never been able to say those words because he knew that you never felt the same way that he had.

---

“Who is she?” Asks a young girl.

Porco thinks that she reminds him of you. Sure her appearance and clothing is different but she has that same wonderfilled and innocent smile you did when you were in the springtime of your youth. So bold and excited for the world that you’ve yet to meet.

And Porco smiles, “someone I loved.”

Fall in love with someone that inspires you.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #porco galliard x reader #someone you loved #100 ways to fall in love

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cioud-berries · 5 months ago

Text

The Autobiography of a Sinner || Chapter 3

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Finally not a 10K word chapter. Since we're getting into the more cannon events, the chapters wont be spanning over YEARS and will most likey be about this lenght.

I hope you all are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!! Pls LMK your thoughts. I also started reading the manga so things will be more manga accureate from now on but there are still small details I will change fore entertainment and storys sake

If you haven't you should join my discord server! it'll be fun!! Link in quotev and wattpad bio) or here: discord.gg/SPNmyV8qJR

Love you all and than you for reading!!

Summery:

The retelling of events that led to The Rumbling and the aftermath from the perspective of someone who was a cause of it.

~ (written as an autobiography it is first person and is like you are the one that wrote it.)

The perils of being in love with your comrade. Going from childhood friends, to finding yourselves in a strange land completely alone, will cause anyone to grow close. After certain circumstances, they become more distant than they ever had been before. Being forced to come back together again to save the world would seem more challenging than either of them would think.

Category:

Reiner Braun x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter Warnings:

Graphic depictions of violence. (cannon typical)

Word count: 5,196

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845-846

To the People of Paradis:

I often think of Viktoria’s trauma when I think about the day we broke down your walls. I think of how horrific it was for her to experience what she did. I think of how the suffering we have caused you is nothing in comparison. I have hurt people in unspeakable ways and I deeply apologize for it even though I know my apologies don't fix anything.

↭

They gave us just over a week off to spend time with our families before the trip. It showed how little they cared for Eldians, even the children. We were to be gone at least for a year, at most, forever. Yet we only had a week to say goodbye to our family.

That week was the only time I felt truly loved by my mother. It was strange. For once, we felt like a real family. No worries about war or titan shifters, no worries about the oppression we received.

We were spending almost all of our time together. Talking, playing games, whatever it was, we all had fun. But with that held the underlying sadness. It reminded me of the dinner we had with Viktoria.

I sifted through Viktoria’s items and found a simple silver chain. Clipping it around my neck, I wanted to keep a piece of her with me. Even though I already did with her power within me, I wanted something more physical.

Finding my creaky floor board, I pulled it up, not caring if my father found out, because I would be long gone by the time he did. Grabbing the box full of Viktoria’s items, I placed it under the floor.

I didn’t know how long I would be gone for. I didn’t know what my family would do in the meantime. To be safe, to keep Viktoria’s items safe, I wanted to hide them. No matter what was to happen, I promised to come back for them.

❃

The week went by in the blink of an eye. Before I knew it, I was hugging my crying family, promising them I would return. I had never seen my dad so distraught. It was worse than him losing his government position. I could sense a severe shift in his opinion on the Marlyan government.

I parted ways with them, not knowing when I would return. I joined the other four on the carriage. We were to be paraded around the town, shown off before being sent away with no support than ourselves.

I sat at the end, beside Reiner. I could immediately tell the difference in demeanor from him. Just a few days ago he was spouting how excited he was to kill the island full of devils.

Now he was sat quietly, zoning out. I had thought that he finally realized the insanity of it all. Just as the carriage began to move, I leaned over to him. “Are you okay?” I whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of the others.

He shook his head. “I met my dad.” He explained. I immediately knew it didn’t go well.

Reiner’s dad was a Marlyan. Due to his mother being Eldian, they were forced to be apart. He had it in his head that they could all live happily if he possessed one of the ten. It was obvious by the way he was acting that his dad didn’t agree with these plans.

It’s not like it even mattered at that point. We were being shipped off. The hopes of coming back were slim.

While the carriage moved along the street I awkwardly sat staring forward. Annie did the same as I. It seemed as though we were the only ones really feeling the weight of our situation as the other three waved at the cheering crowd happily, Reiner’s mood was quickly changing.

What is the point of the few minutes of fame if we were just to leave. These people, these Marlyans, won’t even notice we’re gone. It won't affect their day to day lives. They might hear us in the paper from time to time but then forget it by the next day. But our lives were to be ruined.

❃

Within the hour we were at the port, walking onto our ship. Our items had already been delivered, even though most of our personal items had to be left behind.

We all went to the stern of the boat to say our final goodbyes to the country. I caught a glimpse of my family. My mother was holding my sobbing sister. My mother couldn’t even look at me as her head was on my father’s shoulder. That would be the last time I ever saw her and she couldn’t even look at me. My father held his cap in his hand, waving it in the air to say goodbye to me.

With a small jolt, the boat began to move away from the port. We all stood there for a while in silence, watching the city get away from us. Eventually the others got bored of watching, walking away to explore the ship. I on the other hand refused to rest until I couldn’t see the city anymore, hoping my father was doing the same with the boat.

Soon enough nightfall came. I could still see the light of the city far far in the distance. Reiner came up behind me informing me that dinner was ready.

I shook my head “I can’t eat. Not yet at least.” I mumbled the last part.

“They’re cooking us fresh caught lobster.” He tried to convince me. He leaned against the railing beside me, back to the ocean. “It smelled like those high up officer’s lunches. But better.”

I cracked a small smile but it quickly disappeared. My eyes were trained on the small yellow dot in the distance and I feared if I looked away I would never see it again.

“Come on, you should come inside. It’s getting cold out here.” He tried a different way of coaxing me away. He turned around, looking out to the ocean. He knew exactly what was on my mind. “This isn’t the first time we’ve been away from home. We’ll make it back like we always do.”

“No I won't.” I said back. I don’t know why I said that. It was my instincts.

“What do you mean?” He was shocked by my words. I could tell he was questioning if I would commit treason.

“I don’t know.” I said breathlessly. “I’ve had this sickening feeling that I will never make it home again.”

“Don’t say that.” He reached out for my hand. I only moved it away from him, not wanting it. Pausing for a moment, he continued. “I’m here. Not just me, Bertolt, Marcel, and Annie, we’re all here and we will all make it back.”

Reiner’s word’s didn’t settle my stomach one bit. We sat in silence for about ten more minutes before the small speck turned to black.

I pushed off the railing eyes tailing up to the sky, knowing my father was watching the same stars that night. “Could we come back out after dinner?”

“Of course!” Reiner smiled, not seeing any reason to object.

❃

We were only on the boat for two days. The island of Paradis wasn’t far from Marley. I didn’t even watch us arrive at the island. I went to bed one night and woke up to us being docked. They fed us greatly before unloading the horses and then us.

Against the dock was a large wall with many staircases going up to the top. This is where they took the bad Eldian’s to turn them into titans. They would drop them off here to harass the people of Paradis. People that had no knowledge of the outside world.

They made sure we would have enough food for the next couple of days to at least make it to the walls. We were reminded of our mission; Informed when in the month they arrive; And warned to go at night to avoid any titans.

Then they left us alone with our horses. We sat on the beach watching the boat float away from us. Waiting for the sun to go down. We didn’t talk much, the weight of everything crushing us.

Marcel was the one to finally speak up. “I think it is safe for us to start moving.” We got on our horses, trotting closer to the wall.

Marcel was the oldest so he naturally fell into the leadership position. Not because he wanted to, but because we forced him to. He was just as scared as we were and it was worse as a leader.

We rode in silence for hours. Our horses moved at a slow trot, none of us wanting to arrive quickly. Eventually the moon started to descend from the sky.

Tying our horses up to a tree, we made a fire to huddle around. Finally we began to talk. We talked about our trip so far and then it turned to our mission.

The way Marcel and Bertolt talked quietly about it made it evident that they didn’t want to be here either, even if they were happily waving to the crowd on the carriage. I couldn’t help but chime in, expressing my wishes to return home.

Reiner was shocked, betrayed by our words. Shakingly, he asked, “Don’t tell me that you’re hesitant to kill the devils of this island?”

He continued to spill on about our mission and the propaganda the government had shoved down our throats. I always shut down when he got like this, and this time was no different.

I told him “No one here cares about that.” It was something I had been wishing to say for years, and with the feeling of impending doom, I finally got the courage. At least I didn’t have to worry about people overhearing it and turning me in.

Mercel finally shut Reiner up by saying. “I’m sorry.” Reiner was silent, not understanding his words. “You weren’t supposed to be chosen as a warrior.” He admitted.

Marcel for months had been praising Reiner to the higher ups and made his brother- Porco, look bad. He did this in hopes of keeping Porco away from danger, away from this island.

At this point, Marcel was crying. He felt guilty that he was the reason Reiner had to be to be subjected to all of this. Reiner still didn’t understand the weight of our situation as he stood quietly.

The sun had risen by this point and suddenly the ground began to shake. Before any of us could realize what was happening. A small titan had risen from the ground behind Reiner.

All of us but Marcel froze in fear. Marcel pushed Reiner away from the monster as it grabbed for him. The titan grabbed Marcel instead, putting him in its mouth as it bit down. Mercel's blood squirted everywhere, pouring out of the monster’s mouth.

Reiner was the first to run, as he was the one to get hit with reality first. Bertolt followed, then I. Annie was slow to respond, but was the only one to grab her pack before running.

We ran and ran and ran. It felt like it had been hours, but we had to make sure we were far enough away. Reiner was far ahead of us, never once looking back. He eventually fell under a tree. Screaming our names out, he assumed we too had been eaten.

Annie informed us that we were there by kicking him in the stomach. I yelled at her for doing such but my complaints went unheard. Reiner screamed out of fear, thinking that he was about to get eaten.

Annie began to state what we should’ve done differently, saying we should turn around now, as it would be useless for us to try and continue on.

I couldn’t agree more with her. I didn’t want to be on that island in the first place. Bertolt agreed too. With seemingly all of us in agreement, we started to walk back to the beach.

Reiner on the other hand disagreed, calling out to us, saying we couldn’t leave and that we should stick to the original plan without Marcel. I didn’t listen to him. I wanted to follow whatever plan got me home quicker.

Annie remarked that she understood why Reiner wouldn’t want to go back; saying he would be eaten by the next in line. I froze, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to attack these people, but I also didn't want Reiner to die.

At that time, Reiner was more important to me. “We would all be killed if we went back now.” I added to Reiner’s point, despairing. I fell to the ground, grabbing my head as it felt like it was splitting. Our mission hadn’t even begun but we were already faced with such a disparaging choice.

Reiner began yelling. I could hear what he was saying but I wasn’t listening. Eventually, Annie shut him up with another kick, but it was then followed by screaming from her.

All I could do was watch in horror as they fought one another, crying for them to stop. Bertolt stood to the side, quietly begging as well. I couldn’t hear their words over my own cries, but by their faces, I could tell they wanted to truly kill one another.

Reiner got Annie in a chokehold and ended the fight by saying. “Reiner is dead. If Marcel is what you need. I’ll be your Marcel.”

Reiner was never the same kind hearted boy ever again.

❃

Everything moved very quickly after that.

Annie and I had taken turns transforming to run. It took ages for us to even see the wall. We had titans chasing us the whole way, trying to eat us like they did Marcel. By the time the wall was just out of our reach, we both were exhausted and couldn’t continue.

Reiner had to transform to make the final push. He ran right to the base of the wall to drop off Bertolt before bringing us a safe distance away. The hoard of titans were hot on our trail. It would only take a few minutes for them to be on us.

Bertolt transformed. This was the first time I had seen his titan so close. It was terrifying for me, and I wasn’t the one on the inside. I couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt to see that thing appear over the walls that were supposed to protect you. Especially if that thing was to break down your only protection.

I huddled closer to Annie’s semi-conscious body. Surprisingly, Reiner’s body jolted forward. I looked up to see a titan peering down at me over Reiner’s shoulders.

With one hand, he protected Annie and I, the other he tried to force the titans off of him. Suddenly he began to run towards Bertolt. That is when I noticed a titan sauntering towards Bertolt. By this point Bertolt had already kicked in their gates and detransformed. He was vulnerable freshly out of the colossal titan’s carcass.

The titan was too close to him. There was no way we would be able to make it in time. I thought we were to lose another within just a few hours. But before Reiner could reach the titan, it turned its attention to the hole that had been created. Slowly, it moved through the hole, into the town.

Grabbing Bertolt, Reiner quickly climbed the wall getting away from the titans below. Once we arrived at the top, he laid us down gently. He turned to the city below, ready to descend and cause more havoc. Even from up there I could hear the screams and panic of the innocent citizens.

“Wait!” I called out to him. “I want to come with you.” I don’t fully understand why I said it. Maybe it was because hours ago I was sobbing at the thought of losing him, I didn’t want him to go alone.

I could tell he was hesitating, but I pressed on. “I have the energy. I was able to recover while Annie did the last bit of running.”

Reiner finally gave in, laying his hand down for me to climb into.

As he clawed down the wall, the screams got louder. Everything was already overwhelming. He ran away from the wall, knowing there were too many titans to allow me time to transform. I couldn’t even look as I faced his titan body.

Finding an empty alley, he placed me down against my will, regretting my decision to join him. I grabbed out for him again but he was too preoccupied by the mission and ran off with thunderous steps. Leaving me alone in the alley. I looked down at my hand, knowing what to do, not knowing if I could do it.

I had the small knife my father gave to me attached to my belt. I reached for it but was stopped by hearing a man address me. I turned around to see the man wearing a flower on his tan jacket .

“You need to get out of here kid!” He shouted to me. He was terrified, yet here he was trying to help me. Me who was one of the people that was causing all of this.

“Where are your parents?” He stepped towards me, but before he could even take one step into the alley, a small titan grabbed him. He screamed out of fear, then turned to me. “Run!” he yelled at me “Run for your life.”

The sound of a loud snap could be heard as the titan bit him into two. His legs fell to the ground with a thud as the titan soon turned its attention towards me.

I could survive this. I knew I could. If a titan grabbed me, I could just bite my cheek and transform before being bitten in half. But all senses left me.

Instead of grabbing my knife and transforming then and there, I ran. I weaved in between buildings. I followed people, believing they would know the route to safety. All around me boulders and rocks were falling from the sky, people being eaten, people getting crushed. Children mourning their mothers. Mothers mourning their children.

Chaos. Sadeness. Grief. Anger. Confusion. Fearfulness.

All these ‘devils’ were feeling such heavy emotion and I truly realized. These were no devils. No. Not at all. These were people. And I have killed every single one of them that laid at my feet. And I was to kill the rest of them.

Suddenly everyone I came across began to look like Victoria. I remembered her pain. Here I was, causing it to others, tenfold. She wouldn’t be proud of me.

My knees came crashing down onto the stone below me as I saw a child crying over the top of her decapitated mother. The people on the island weren’t the devils. We were.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the thumping of titan feet coming from behind me. I would’ve gladly given myself to the creature, if it wasn’t for the little girl.

She couldn’t have been more than five years old. Too young to understand what to do in this situation. I grabbed her and ran. She fought me, screaming and kicking. But all I could think to do was keep running.

Before I knew it, the titan was on me, and I couldn’t run any farther. I could barely breathe and I couldn’t even stand on my two legs anymore. I turned to look at the thing one last time before my end. Right as it went to grab for us, a person flew by wearing an almost identical outfit to the guy before, but this one bore two swords crossed over.

The titan fell, the immediate danger was gone, yet I still couldn’t move. They yelled at me to keep running. I couldn’t move. They yelled again, scanning the area for any more titans. I could only stay still, clutching the girl that never stopped screaming.

The person finally came up to me in a hurry. That is when I could see more details. Their mid length hair was tied up as they had their glasses securely attached to their face. They kneeled in front of us, and asked me. “Is this your little sister?”

I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell them that I knew who caused all of this. That I caused all of this. That I found this random little girl and grabbed her out of self pity. So, all I could do was nod.

They continued. “Listen, for your sake. For your little sister’s sake. You’re going to need to run as fast as you can.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I said “I can’t.” Deep down, the meaning of my words were that I couldn’t handle the mission anymore. I couldn’t put these people through any more pain.

The person took it as I couldn’t move anymore and took the girl from me. “Can you run on your own?” They asked. Again, not knowing what to do, I nodded. “Then I will run with you while holding your sister. As long as you can run beside me you two can make it to safety. The boats are not that far away. Can you do that for me?”

This person was trying so hard to get me and the girl to safety, I knew I at least needed to say yes for their sake. So we ran. The person wasn’t wrong about how close we were to the boats. There was a huge crowd surrounding the small dock. People begging for them to be allowed on, for them to get to safety.

The person that saved us grabbed my hand and pushed through the crowd until we were at the front. Many people threw insults at us, saying it was unfair that we were allowed to skip, but I didn’t care, as long as this girl got to safety.

Once we got to the board, the person handed me back the girl. While placing a hand on my head, they said “You’re going to need to take care of your little sister from now on? Okay?” They were so gentle. Even though they were faced with all of this, they tried to put on a brave face to try and keep us calm.

I was pushed on board before I could do anything else. I sat on the floor of the wooden boat. The little girl had stopped crying, just sitting and staring into space. I couldn’t blame her as I did the same

The boat eventually started moving and we were all towed away from the insanity. The screams and smell of death slowly dissipated.

❃

We passed another wall before being offloaded. I just followed the crowd while keeping a hold on the little girl’s hand. She was silent, following me because there was no one else to follow. I never said a word to her, nor did she to me. Eventually they loaded us into a warehouse type building.

It had thin blankets laid out on the floor and they were serving a watered down soup to people as they entered. I couldn’t eat. Not after all of that. I opted to give my bowl to the little girl. We sat in the corner as she drank both bowels quickly. It was clear her mother didn’t feed her beforehand.

I wondered how many people didn’t get to eat their lunch before they were killed. How many people forgot to kiss their loved ones before leaving for work. How many people died.

I tried to tell myself that I never killed a single person with my bare hands, it was the savaged titans that did. I said it to try and make myself feel better, but no matter what way I tried to spin it, deep down, I always knew the blood was on my hands.

Eventually, a man ran at us, screaming the name Isabelle. The little girl stood, running at her father. They both sobbed as the girl repeated “Mamma” over and over again. All the father could respond with was “I know.”

I stood to leave, knowing my job of protecting her was over. Her father stopped me by grabbing my wrist. “Thank you.” He said with teary eyes.

I shook my head, knowing that if I weren’t here, none of this would’ve happened. That girl would have a mother. That husband would have a wife.

“Come with me.” He told me, “I will take care of you. You saved my daughter’s life. It’s the least I could do.”

I removed my hand from his grasp, shaking my head again. “I need to look for my friends and family.”

He nodded his head understanding. “If you can’t find them, I’ll be over there.” He pointed to the otherside of the warehouse.

I walked out of the doors of the warehouse needing fresh air and to get away from people. Walking towards the woodline, I just wanted to get away.

Before I could go any further, I heard my name be called. When I turned, I saw Reiner running at me full speed. I stood still as he ran into me, enveloping me into a hug.

“I thought you died.” He confessed breathlessly. “I should’ve left you on the wall.”

I returned the embrace, shoving my head into his shoulder, crying. “I’m sorry. I got scared and I couldn’t do it.”

“Don’t apologize.” He hugged me tighter. “I made the wrong call. I won’t put you in danger like that again.”

I only nodded into his shoulder as I couldn't stop crying. The emotions falling out of me.

❃

There were two ways you could go after the tragedy. Work in the fields, or go off and fight. Since we were still children, they forced us into the fields.

Any able bodied person was sent to die by the hands of the titans. They had gathered thousands of people to reclaim the wall that had been destroyed. What they really did was send people to fight an enemy they didn’t really know. They were blind to who the real enemy was, us.

There we were, being sheltered under their homes, being fed by their food. They struggled because of us. But there they were, caring for us like we were victims, just like them.

Annie and I would sneak into the capital often, scouring for any small amount of information about the king. I on the other hand, was not cut out for intel gathering, as Annie was always the one to find things out.

I started joining Annie, giving her some backup, instead of us breaking up. Although, I feel like most of the time I was just in the way for her. Even though we spent weeks on end alone with one another, we barely grew closer.

It took years to get any sort of information. What we- she found out was that the current family on the throne was false. The real king and holder of the founding titan was hiding and ruling from the background. This most definitely would make the mission even harder. Now we had to find this secret royal family.

Next thing we did was report our information to Reiner, who was the self appointed leader of the group. None of us disagreed with him being the leader, so it worked out perfectly.

He decided the best way to get close to the government was to join them, and the easiest way to do that was to join the military. At that age, we were more than capable of joining the military. But we were only thirteen, you’re only allowed to start training at fourteen, and worse, we would have to be in training for another three years.

This mission was already chalked up to be at least five years. Five years feels like eternity in the eyes of a child. I imagined my father growing old, my sister becoming her own person. She was only nine when I left her.

I mourned the loss of time with them. Every night I would sneak out from the communal living space and go outside to look at the stars.

On occasion, Reiner would join me. Sometimes we would sit in silence, other times we’d talk. It was strange. I knew him for so many years but now he had felt like a stranger. I clung onto the hope that my friend would return. There were small fragments of time where I believed he was still there deep down.

One time we laid under the spring stars. I thought that night, we wouldn’t be talking, but he broke that silence by asking. “Do you still feel like you’re not going to make it home?”

I stayed silent for a few moments, being shocked by this question. I thought he had forgotten about that whole conversation. The way he acted made it feel like he completely forgot everything that made him the sweet kid he was.

Finally, I responded with. “Yes.”

He too went quiet. I turned to him, trying to read his brain, which felt impossible then. “We’ll be joining the military soon.” He said seemingly out of nowhere.

“We’re already in the military.” I reminded him.

“We’ll be joining the enemy's military.” He corrected himself before continuing. “It will be the most dangerous thing we’ve done since we got here. I promise no matter what, I will make sure you won’t die.”

He turned to me, his eyes determined, yet soft. I smiled at him as I moved closer. I wrapped my arm around his neck as I put the weight of my torso on him.

I hugged him like this for a while, the tension that had been building up for two years finally releasing. He hugged me back firmly.

When I moved away from the hug, I hovered over him. “Thank you.” I whispered.

He was flustered, face slightly red. “Of course.” He stumbled out. “As the leader, it’s the least I can do.”

“No.” I cut him off. “You’re my friend. Not my leader. You need to remember that.”

“Of course I’ll remember that.” He retorted defensively. I backed off him, letting him sit up. Holding my pinky out, I wanted him to promise me.

He reached his hand out, hooking out pinkies together. Before he could pull away, I pulled his hand closer to me. “Friends forever.” I demanded.

He gave me a goofy smile. One like hve used to before the island. “I wouldn’t dream of breaking a promise like that.” I finally let go of his pinkie, feeling much better.

With him, I felt the safest. But it was always the ones you feel safest with, that you needed to stay on your guard with the most.

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