#also. result is not guaranteed this more just me scouting. to see what would make this more fun for ppl who arent just Me

[ajdrawshq]

so. for the hypothetical 999 poll playthrough. for both ppl who already know the plot n all that AND ppl who just know things secondhand/have never seen this game in your Life but like clicking poll buttons

screenshots will be included regardless just because <3

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

AOT College AU (part 1?)

So somewhere in the fever dream that was the past year, I got back into aot and had this whole elaborate college au planned out and this was the result

I may actually pick this back up

part of draft clearing 2022

Rush week is a god awful period of time designed to bait and trap freshmen into pledging to a fraternity or sorority.  It’s also when everyone likes to go buck wild with the parties, since classes just started and the consequences of procrastination are too far off into the future for anyone to care about.  Honestly, you regret letting Sasha drag you to the Theta Chi house, but at least she’s having fun pressed up against some blond sophomore.  There’s plenty of familiar faces, Eren (with Mikasa trailing around him as usual) is pulling Armin around and trying to get a bid for Theta Chi, even though he could’ve had a guaranteed spot at the Alpha Phi Epsilon house because his brother Zeke apparently runs the place.  Although speaking of the APE house next door, Reiner and Bertholdt are trying to get in for some reason.  Your roommate, Annie, ended up going with them too, muttering something about old friends.  

A sudden hand on your shoulder makes you jump, landing right into the arms of the notorious head of Theta Chi, Erwin Smith.  “Hey doll, can I get you anything to drink?”  he rumbles, slinging an arm over you and pulling you uncomfortably close, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.  

“Uh no thanks, I’d rather not,” you say, preferring to laugh at Connie and Jean getting absolutely sloshed playing beer pong.

“Well, if you need anything, and I mean anything, let me know.”  He says, practically purring in your ear before finally loosening his hold, off to go charm some other unsuspecting freshman into his bed.  

You make your way to the refrigerator, cringing at the stickiness of the floor along the way.  There’s nothing but cheap beer and some probably spiked sodas, none of which you feel like drinking at all.  As you try to close the door, a carton of orange juice falls out of the door compartment.  Perfect, you think, and upon further inspection it appears to be unopened.  You open the carton and take a swig directly from it, too lazy to search for a red solo cup.  This is the good stuff, sweet, and just the right amount of pulp.

“Is that my orange juice?”  fuck.  You look up to see the tallest man you’ve ever seen in your life, taller than even Bertholdt which is a pretty high bar to clear.

“I can put it back but I kinda already drank from the carton so…”  He shrugs and swipes the carton from you, chugging the rest of it in one go.    

“You owe me more orange juice,” he pouts, “What's your name?  I’m Mike.”  Suddenly it makes sense.  Standing before you is Mike Zacharius, the unbeatable basketball center for the Paradis Scouts.  He’s made quite a reputation for himself, well, the whole basketball team has.  

“I’m y/n.” you introduce, backing away until you feel the coolness from the kitchen counter dig into your back.  

“You don’t look like you're having a good time,” he frowns, thick arms caging you against the counter “want me to show you what a good time really is?”  You hear a deep inhale close to you, ...is he sniffing your hair?

“God, is everyone at this frat house a total douchebag?”

“Ah, sorry, girls normally like that kind of thing.” he rubs the back of his neck, a little sheepish at being called out.  

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I know.  My bad.  But I am expecting another carton of orange juice from you at some point!”

What is it with you and being dragged places against your will?  Sports isn't really your thing, but Mikasa insisted on taking you to see Eren play his first game as a starter.  Somehow he worked some voodoo magic to be able to play in official games as a freshman.  Or maybe the university just thought he would follow in Zeke’s footsteps as a sports legend.  Either way, Eren is now sporting jersey #7, as the Paradis Scout’s newest small forward.  The rest of the starting line looks intimidating as hell.  Mikasa insisted on getting front row seats, so she could see Eren play up close.  The game hasn’t even started yet but her eyes are glued tight to Eren.  

The creak of the stadium seat next to you grates on your ears, even over all the noise the crowd is making.

“Miss me?”  you turn your head so fast you almost got whiplash, greeting your long time friend with a grin.  

“Reiner!”  His chatter fades into the background far too quickly, as your gaze drifts right back to Mike, who is drinking a fucking carton of orange juice right before the game like some sort of bizarre pre game ritual.  Guess he just really loves orange juice.  

“Oh!  y/n!”  he points at his carton of orange juice and then at you, “you owe me!”

“What's that all about?”

The screech of a whistle cuts you off, and Mike is up for the tip off.  For a man of his size, he sure moves fluidly.  His long arms reach the ball long before the other team’s representative, and the ball rushes back, right into the hands of a familiar looking man with an undercut.  It isn’t until you read the name on his jersey that you remember.

“Ackerman?  Like-”

“Like my rude jerk of a cousin.”  Mikasa finishes, still refusing to take her eyes off Eren.  

You’ve only really seen Levi around a few times, but his larger than life reputation speaks for itself.  “Humanity’s strongest basketball player”, and undeniably the best point guard Paradis has ever seen in its history.  It’s because of Levi that the basketball team is the pride and joy of the school.   Well it’s a little unfair to attribute the team’s success solely to Levi, you suppose, but everyone seems to think of it like that.  

The ball’s in the opposing team's court, which means Paradis is on defense, and Mike is really shining, blocking shot after shot, catching rebounds left and right.  

“That weird center is really good,” Reiner grumbles, “gotta hand it to him.”

Against your better judgement, you buy a carton of orange juice and go with Mikasa to a party at the Ox house.  Something about celebrating the new pledges?  Whatever is happening, Eren is involved which means Mikasa is too.  Mike opens the door, and looks like an excited golden retriever when he sees the orange juice you brought.  Mikasa pushed through as soon as the door opened, leaving you with Mike while she made her way to Eren, content to be by his side.  

“I’ve been waiting for this all night!  Come chill with me.”

Maybe it was the boyish glint in his eye, or the dorky shirt he was wearing, or maybe it was the crooked smile and the way he practically shook in excitement that had you taking Mike up on his offer.  

“You’re out of my league y’know?”

“What?  I’m the one that's way out of your league.”  he grins at you, and you can’t find it in your heart to contradict him.

[aggressive-positivity-network]

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter 17: I Love You)

← Chapter Sixteen 

Warning: NSFW CONTEND AHEAD. MINORS DNI!

For my protection. That was his reason. The government had started following the Scouts extensively after the mission to reclaim Wall Maria. Soon after, they were only following Levi around, trying to find any way to purge him out of the government. He didn’t want me to get caught up in his mess, and he knew I would fight for him if I did, so he thought the only way was to leave me. He thought the only way was to hurt me so I wouldn’t come back because that’s how it used to work for him. Break their hearts and they’ll leave you alone. He also showed me a letter Jonas had written him a few weeks after their return. That coupled with the journal he read over and over was the tipping point for him. It would be better if I wasn’t around him, but he knew that the only way to make it possible for both of us was to build a barrier that we didn’t dare cross. 

Levi, 

She’s suffering because of you. Every day, I see her smile fade, looking out at the table you used to sit at. She cries at night when she thinks I don’t hear. She cried the other day, drunk on wine, thinking about what she had done wrong to make you act this way towards her. You need to let her go. If you aren’t going to come anymore, make it clear so she doesn’t have sickening hope to keep her going. She won’t keep going. She’s fallen in love with someone like you before, and even then she almost killed herself before she was let go. Let her go now. It’s the safest way. I’ll care for her. I’ll convince her. I’ll make her happy where you couldn’t. Just leave her to me and let her go. 

Jonas 

Yet, even with these excuses, the letter, and the journal, he apologized over and over again. Sometimes on his knees in front of me. Sometimes without words. At night, he would hold me now, having read about how many sleepless I had without him; lonely nights he caused. It seemed that two things had changed as a result of our “hiatus”. One, being Levi recognizing what was love and affection, and how he, indeed, needed it to survive now. He wasn’t afraid anymore, and behind closed doors was bold. He even stopped asking to do something, his timid self leaving and replaced with a more confident lover. Second, after the court hearing, he truly realized that I could take care of myself. Right there and then, facing death with one slip up, I was able to save him as well as the Scouts' reputation. It was this one strong act of loyalty that was enough to tip him over the edge. Levi was now completely mine. This was evident. There was to be no tip-toeing. There was no time to tip-toe anymore. We were to love and love vividly as neither of us had ever before. 

Still, my emotions were left untouched. While he was busy begging for forgiveness, the feelings I had in that year-and-a-half of isolation were pushed back in my mind. I didn’t want to ruin the time we had with what I deemed to be trivial. I didn’t want to remind him once again of the loneliness and desperation he left me with. The self-doubt. The self hated. All of these things. I left it for another day. Another time. And soon enough, it would eat away at me. In the near future, he would do it again. That was my resolve. He would do it again, leaving me alone with only my thoughts and a shirt of his, and these feelings would creep up inside of me.

I decided to wait until that happened. If it happened again, I would tell him what I was feeling. I wouldn’t let his apologizes and touches and kisses silence my wavering feelings of abandonment. I would tell myself that over and over again. I would tell him, yes. I would. I have to… but then his smile, vibrant and whole, would make me forget. Momentarily. His devotion. His touch. Love would come in place of abandonment. 

Sometimes it would scare me. I would wake in the middle of the night in his arms, his eyes staring down at me as he had yet to fall asleep, and I would feel this overwhelming sensation. I’d never felt this before. Not with any other man I’d been with. I thought I knew what love was until Levi and I started again. This was love. This was devotion. Willing to sacrifice ourselves for the other. The court case had made that clear. Still, it was scary to be this for another person. Those nights, I would tear up, remembering the lonely months previous, and he would brush my hair out of my face, holding me to his chest and humming me to sleep. How long until I lose him again? Was this overwhelming feeling in my chest only because I knew he would leave soon? Levi would never be permanently by my side. How can I keep loving someone like him this much without hurting myself? 

Levi was scared too, but for a different reason. He was scared of death. This was the demon that would always chase him. At night, when he found sleep, he would still jerk awake, sometimes sweat covered and tears falling down his cheeks. I would rub his back and sometimes get out of bed with him to talk it over a cup of peppermint tea. There was no hiding what he saw when his eyes were closed anymore. He would see me die. Isabel and Furlan. Erwin. Hange. His cadets. I realized during those nights how broken he truly was. How scared he was to love because of death, just as I was of abandonment. I’d reassure him over and over, rain hitting the windowpane above, but still, he would have this doubt in the back of his mind. Life made this doubt, and nothing was going to move it. I’d just reassure him enough to coax him back into bed and hopefully catch the last bits of sleep. 

Like Erwin had promised, Levi was given the month off. Which quickly turned into two at Levi’s harsh request and a nice letter I wrote to Erwin, attached to a box of freshly made cookies. How did Erwin expect for us to catch up in a month? The first month was for loving. The second was when we would actually talk over things. This was what I had determined. Erwin had sent back the empty box with only one note: Don’t get pregnant. I rolled my eyes at that and threw it into the trash.

“What did he say?” Levi gestured to the paper I’d thrown in the trash and I just shook my head. 

“Nothing important. Just a joke.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him as he sat down in a wooden chair. His hand let go of mine, moving it to touch my waist lightly. It was night time and the café had been vacant of people for a few hours. It was time to start preparing dough and fruit for the small batch of pastries and bread tomorrow. People were slowly starting to feel the effects of famine. Their stomachs and their wallets. Sadly, the only thing that seemed to keep me going was the reward Erwin had promised. With his money in my pouch, I went about the capital market with Hange, buying supplies I needed. They filled up the cart we had brought with us, but even now, only a month later, they were almost all gone. Reeve’s was suspending orders left and right, and soon they would start firing their workers. I was also getting to a desperate point as well. If people stopped coming into the café, remembering the hours I’d sat in the empty room this past month, I would close down and use the profit money for my own survival.

“What are you thinking about?” I looked down at him again, noticing how the tiny sliver of moonlight through an open crack illuminated his eyes to an almost silver color.

“The future.”

“That’s why I don’t do that,” he quipped back, dropping his hand to lean back in the chair, the front legs lifting up off the floor I’d just cleaned. I frowned and rolled my eyes at him, walking away to check on the rising dough. 

“Yes, we know.” He followed behind, rolling up his sleeves so he could help me. This time, there wasn’t enough dough to divide between the two of us, so he ended up cleaning the two tea cups we were drinking out of. 

“Why think of a future when you’re never guaranteed one?” I slammed the dough on the table, starting to take out my annoyance on it instead of him. 

“Ah, yes, because you’re one to live in the moment, Levi.” He just chuckled and ended up leaning on the sink edge, looking out at the single window that was opened. The moonlight was still reflected in his eyes. 

“You’re from the Underground. You should know why thinking about a future is dangerous.” 

“We aren’t in the Underground anymore, Captain Levi.” He frowned and I moved on to portion the dough.

“Stop saying my name like that,” he groaned out, turning his head to the side and looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He was more accustomed to his nickname now. Just Lev. When I said his full name or title, he knew I was mad or annoyed at him or something. 

“Thinking about the future gives me hope,” I used a knife to cut out four pieces of dough,  “It makes you want to live.” He held up his hands. 

“No one said I didn’t want to live.” I cut the next piece of dough rather harshly, making the knife slam against the cutting board.

“You’re content with dying.” 

“I’ve made peace with the idea, yes.” I grasped a small piece of dough that I’d just cut when hearing those words. Now I was angry. There was no drive in his voice. Made peace with dying? That just wasn’t acceptable. I threw the piece of dough at him and he just stood there, taking my assault. 

“Think about a future and then maybe you won’t be so content with dying, Levi.” He wiped off the leftover flour from his shirt, his expression unchanging. 

“Then what is your future? If you’re so adamant about it.” His voice had a hint of annoyance in it, trying to hold back from yelling at me for ruining his fresh shirt. This made me freeze up a bit. My mind went straight to one thing. One thing I know Levi has personally said wouldn’t happen. One thing I know that Levi could care less about. One thing he didn’t want. Therefore, I shook my head. 

“None of your business.” He turned to face my body, keeping one hand on the counter and the other on his hip. 

“You can’t just lecture me about this and then refuse to tell me.” This is when I realized the weight of his words before. Why would you think of a future when you know it won’t happen? I knew this future wouldn’t happen, and here I was mourning it. Fuck. He got me, and he knew he did. 

“No, I don’t have to tell you. It’s my future.”

“But I’m in it, aren’t I?” I dropped my hands, taking a deep breath in, “That’s why you’re so upset right now.”  I hung my head this time. Not wanting to feel tears welling in the corner of my eyes. I haven’t felt them for a month now, and they were starting to feel unwelcomed. How dare I feel sad at a time like this? I can’t feel sad when time is fleeting. 

“You’re in a lot of people's futures, Levi. Not just mine.” It was low, and he could tell by how my voice trembled that I was about to cry, but he wanted me to face his harsh reality. He wanted me to know the reality of the world. I couldn’t be optimistic about the future. No one in our world could be. I would just be disappointed. At least that’s what I thought. 

“Tell me then. What’s in our future?” I shook my head again, this time turning away from him and using one hand to wipe away the stray tears. 

“Tell me.” I kept my hand hovering over my mouth, hoping that if I started crying loudly, I’d be able to muffle them with it. 

“There are no titans. You and I, we run this cafe. We’re married and there are two little kids running around, knocking over empty chairs while people come in and out, smiling down at them. A boy and girl. The boy has black hair, the girl brown. Both have silver-grey eyes. You yell at the children, telling them to stop playing around. They apologize, looking up at you with your matching eyes, then back at me, waiting for me to soften your annoyance at them; releasing them to run around again as you groan because of my acceptance of their rowdiness… but then you look at the two of them and smile softly before being swept up in an order.” There was silence again, but this time it was dense. I had to put my hand over my mouth, muffling whatever whines were coming out of it. His silence was telling. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want it. I was the only one dreaming of these things at night, falling asleep in his arms. 

A hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing once, before drawing me into him from behind, completely enveloped with his chin resting on top of my head. He still didn’t say anything. He just tried to comfort me while I was mourning something I knew wouldn’t happen. He didn’t have to tell me. I knew. I knew. 

“I’ll try my best to give you what you want, but some of it is unattainable, Eva.” 

“What is?” He felt him swallow hard and his arms tightened around me. He wanted me to know that he was still here, even if the future he wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t going to try to promise me anything he couldn’t keep. 

“I’ll try my best.” That was his way of saying that none of it was going to happen. Sometime during my cries, he turned me around to settle into his chest. At this point, I wasn’t mad at him. I was just sad. Sad because I wouldn’t get to have what I wanted. Not with him. Jonas was right. At some point, I would have to sacrifice if I wanted to be with Levi. Erwin had told me that too. I just didn’t know at that point, almost three years ago, what the sacrifice was going to be. My sanity. My emotional clarity. A husband. Children. I was just going to be the woman who owns a cafe. I even have to sacrifice the public’s knowledge of my own relationship. I’d sacrifice it for someone who wasn’t at my side for most of the year. 

That was the scary part. The one that I’d think of over and over again at night. The scariest part was that deep down inside, I was ready to sacrifice it all for him. I loved him. Yet, he’d never said it back to me. Did Levi feel guilty for not being able to give me what I wanted or was this a struggle I’d have to get through alone? And I’d get through it alone… for him. 

That night, his grasp was a little tighter than before. He was still trying to make up for earlier. He was trying to show me what his feelings were, but he couldn’t say them out loud. That would be the nail in his coffin. That’s what still made me doubt. I’d look him in the eyes and just chant over and over tell me you love me. If he just said those three words, then I think everything would be all right. He’ll try his best. What did that mean? What was his best? At his best, was he still not able to say he loved me? 

The next few days, he would be closer to me when he could. He would hold me tighter when he could. He was trying to tell me that he was here in the present. He wasn’t going to leave right now. He was trying to compensate for the future he was convinced he couldn’t give me. He couldn’t give me kids and he couldn’t make me his wife, but he could try his best. Those words were a sting to my heart every time I heard it. His best would be leaving me at the end of every upcoming month to go out and try to kill titans while trying to not get killed himself. 

The next week, when he showed up from his weekly visit to the Scout HQ, rose balm in hand, everything in the past week seemed to be forgotten. The future, along with the emotions I had yet to tell him about, sat in the back of my mind. He bandaged my hands for me, applying the balm in a meticulous fashion, hoping that this time he would be able to get a big supply of it before he went on his expedition. 

“Erwin had gone to the capital a few days ago and Premier Zachary asked about you,” he informed me as he started with my right hand. I pulled a disgusted face and this made him glow with some semblance of happiness. 

“What did he say?” 

“According to Erwin’s short summary, he wanted to know more about you currently. Where you live, what you do. Things like that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent someone here to find you out.” I could hear the anger rise in his voice as he applied the balm. 

“Is that why you haven’t been coming downstairs recently? In case they see you.” He nodded. 

“It would get both of us in trouble if they started to suspect something. I don’t care at this point, however. Even if they saw us randomly meet each other in the marketplace, they would report it as a relationship. While the people who wanted to persecute me would see it as more evidence, the rat-bearded bastard Zachary is only interested in finding about more about his prey.” I swallowed at the word prey and Levi noticed that he didn’t tone down his wording like normal. Around me, he tried to be more gentle with his words, substituting curses for other things, but other times it slipped out. According to Hange, Levi had quite a vocabulary and he wasn’t afraid to yell at the cadets with it. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just sa-” 

“I know, Lev. I just have to be smart and reject any advances in a way that doesn’t make him upset. He is your highest up boss anyways.” He slipped back into a smile and nodded at my words. 

“So smart,” he mumbled and his praise made my stomach fill with a few butterflies. Levi doesn’t praise anyone. I found that out by being stuck in the Scout HQ for a day. I assisted Hange and snuck around out of sight, but I was still able to observe the way he trained with the cadets. Once when a cadet performed a near perfect maneuver, cutting through three titan dummies at a high-speed pace, all Levi could say to her was “If you were going so fast, why didn’t you get a fourth one?” I guess he only had a little bit of praise in his body and it was all reserved for me. 

“The Garrison members stopped playing cards last week, so I guess we can take that as notice the news of the trial has spread to Trost.” He tucked the very end of the wrap underneath another, taking a piece of medical tape and securing it tight. I told him that since today was my day off, he didn’t need to wrap my hands, but he acted like it was another one of his duties. Everyday before I start work, he would sit me down, sometimes in a sleepy silence, and wrap my hands. Other times, he would pull me upstairs after lunch rush to take the dirty wraps off and replace them, asking about work or some random thing he thought about while doing leftover paperwork in the office upstairs. While Erwin gave him the month off physically, he still had mountains of paperwork that he brought back from his weekly meetings. Times like right now, he would use wrapping my hands as a distraction from the mountain of papers growing. The two weeks leading up to the expedition were going to be the busiest, so much so that he couldn’t go to bed the same time as me and I’d wait up for him, reading a book. Most of the time, though, he would have to wake me up and move from his spot on the bed since I was sprawled over the whole thing. 

“I’ve finally got the paperwork for it, so I’d assume so. I had to literally confirm every scar that you and Hange wrote down, so thanks for that.” He turned back to the desk and I leaned forward to look at the paper, an empty diagram of a body drawn on it. 

“I can help you if you want.” He raised an eyebrow, looking out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is this just another excuse to get me undressed?” I gave him the same type of look. 

“Hypothetically, if it was, would it work?” He gave me one smirk before shedding off his shirt. Even if I’d seen this many, many times in the past two months, it never lost its effect. Levi’s clothes hide years of fighting, ODM usage, and overall hard labor and work. Of course he was going to have every possible muscle defined. His shoulders were my favorite. Broad. Easy to rest my head on.

“Here,” he handed me the paper and a pen freshly dipped in ink, “starts drawing and labeling. Don’t miss one or we’re fucked.” I started with the scar near his collarbone. 

“I don’t know. Prison can’t be that bad. You could beat all of them up and become king.” He rolled his eyes, sitting back on the chair so I could get a full view. 

“I think the last place I want to be is in a military prison. They’ll just lock me up in a single cell for the rest of my life. I’d break out though. Shitty guards.” 

“A fugitive then. I’d hide you.” He smirked and huffed once in laughter. 

“If we mess this paper up, we’re both going to become political fugitives. Where should we escape to?” I turned his head so I could get the side of a small scar under his jawline. 

“A cabin somewhere. Maybe by Utopia District. No one likes to go all the way up there… I hate to ask you this, but do you think they want me to write down all of your scars?” He raised his eyebrow in confusion and I turned the paper to him, pen pointing to the legs. 

“Oh, uh. Just to be safe?” He stood up, looking down at me, and took his pants off in one swift movement, folding them to put on top of the desk. Now, he was just sitting down in a pair of linen shorts. He pushed them up too, pointing out some scars on his inner thighs. 

“How did you get these? I don’t see you wear shorts.” I poked a scar on his inner thigh and he squirmed when I did that. Was there a certain tension building in the room? Yes, but I chose to be naïve to it.

“Knives can cut through fabric. Most of the ones on my legs are from the Underground. Others are from cutting through trees with ODM too fast. I had to get used to branches since there aren’t trees in the Underground.” I nodded, staring intently at the scars of his legs, and I could hear him cough once before turning his head to the side. We stayed in this position before I told him to sit backwards on the chair so I could get the marks on his back, flipping the page. It didn’t get past me how uncomfortable he looked trying to get settled with his front pressed up against the back of the chair. There was something in the way. This made me smirk and I reached out to touch his back, tracing some of the larger scars.

“This one is from a titan?” I remembered clearly one in the center of his back was marked by medical tape from Hange. I traced down it, seeing his fists grab the top of the chair slightly, making sure he knew which one I was talking about. 

“I was saving a cadet and got caught on its front tooth. Had to shove a sword in it’s ugly-ass mouth so it would let me go.” I hummed, acknowledging his story and moving on. Again, his back was as marvelous to look at as his front. Here, one could clearly see the muscles he had from carrying the ODM gear and wielding the dual swords. I remembered back to the first time he’d exposed himself like this when I took the bandages off for him. Back then, I don’t think I was in a state of mind to notice all the scars he had on his back. I was unconsciously tracing them as I drew and labeled on the official paperwork. 

“What’s this one? I don’t know it.” I traced again, a small circle near the edge of his linen undergarment. I felt him shiver under my touch and he looked over his shoulder at me, jaw a little tight. 

“Bullet wound.” It was short and I could hear the strain in his voice. When he turned back to face the wall, I let my smirk come out. If I stopped now, would he be able to turn back around in confidence? With this, I just leaned forward, pressing my cheek into his upper shoulder blade, feeling how warm his skin had become. 

“Finished?” He asked, and I just nodded into his skin. 

“You have so many.” He snorted. 

“I was born fighting. Plus, I have to always save these cadets’ asses on the field. It’s only natural.” He didn’t turn around, just crossing his arms and slightly leaning back into me. I closed my eyes, feeling his touch and warmth again. At night, he always sleeps with a shirt on, so I rarely get to feel him like this. 

“It’s only fair you let me see the scars you have.” I opened my eyes and looked up at him, his head half-turned to look down at me. Something in my stomach stirred when he said that. 

“I don’t have half as many as you. The biggest ones are my hands.” He apparently felt composed enough to turn around, shifting to hide something stirring in his lower half still. 

“Let me rephrase. You made me strip twice, once in front of the entire military brigade of Mitras. It’s only fair.” He gestured his hand forward and it made me snicker. 

“You’ve seen me without a shirt on a few times, Lev.” He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again, thinking of a better rebuttal. 

“I haven’t had my hands tracing your back for thirty minutes trying to rile you up.” I rested my head in one hand. So he did notice. 

“What do I get out of this?” He tsk-ed, crossing his arms over his chest again. 

“You always want a reward. Fine, I’ll give you one. Just let me look at your scars first. An equal exchange.” I perked up when he said that, and I could tell he almost laughed at how willingly I took my shirt off, leaving me only in an ivory brassiere and my skirt. Then his hand pointed down as to say ‘that too’. Just like him, I stood up, but I slowly unbuttoned my skirt and let it slide to the floor. Now we were both sitting there, only in our linen undergarments. We’d been here before, really, but only in short, spur-of-the-moment type situations. One moment, my underwear would be off, and then just ask quickly he was putting it back on so as not to expose me so much to himself. He did the same with his linen shorts. This was much more… intense. He took time to sit back, his eyes scanning over every curve of my body. It made me twitch, my foot tapping waiting for him to reach out and touch me like he said he was going to do. 

“You have a considerable amount. I hadn’t noticed before. Turn around.” He made a circle in the air with his finger and I obliged, leaning forward to rest my head on the top of the chair. I heard him move forward too, his breath wafting over my shoulders. This sent shivers down my spine, making me sit up straight. Then, he reached out with one finger, tracing the shallow white lines and indents. With each movement, a jolt was sent down my spine and into my stomach. I had to lower my head to hide my blush and the heavy breathing. He was giving me back what I had done to him. 

“This one?” He traced a medium-sized scar up and down, right below the back of my brasserie. 

“I-I fell out of a tree when I was younger and landed on Jonas’s bicycle.” He hummed and I felt the air that came out of his nose gloss over the right side of my neck. When I turned my head to the right, looking over my shoulder, his face was right there. This made me swallow hard and the butterflies in my stomach started flying around even faster. It was comical how this small touch was making my mind fuzzy. I had seen him bare before. I had touched him. He’d touched me. But nothing like this. 

“And this one?” It was a whisper right in my ear and it made me physically jump. He felt it and I heard a small laugh come from him. The scar he was tracing was in the middle of my back, just like the one he had. His finger was just tracing it up and down, waiting for my answer. 

“The… t-the edge of a… a brick building,” I breathed out, the ending shooting up an octave as his right hand went around my middle, pulling my back right into his chest. His head was resting in the crook of my neck, but he was only looking forward, staring at the same blackboard that I was, filled with possible battle formations and other things he’d written about fieldwork. His other hand, the left, came and squeezed my thigh, slowly tracing again. Up and down. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel his newfound arousal pressing into my back. This made me think hard, heart beating fast. While this wasn’t the barest we’ve gotten, this was the most intimate in ways of sexual attraction. Was this going to be the night? 

“All these scars you got before you met me, hm?” He shifted just his eyes to look up at me. I swallowed, not trusting my voice as his hand coasted higher and higher on my thigh.

“E-except my neck.” This time he hummed, and I felt the vibration filter through my back. His hand slowly went from my thigh to my neck, lightly grasping the sides and rubbing that same finger along the thin scar the refugees had given me that day so long ago. The scar itself would be gone in a few years, not being deep in the first place. 

“I wanted to kill them. For some reason. I usually never want to kill humans.” His voice was softer, remembering the same moment I was. 

“I’m glad you didn’t.” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me back enough so I was completely resting on him. His skin was still hot to the touch, almost burning. 

“I’ll do anything to protect you, Eva.” I lowered my head, my thoughts instantly going to a week ago. He would do anything but marry and have kids with me. 

“Anything?” I felt him seize up, just a tiny bit, knowing what I was referring to. I had just ruined his nice moment. This is why I’d held back my feelings for a month. Reasons like this. If I had just kept my mouth shut, what would we be doing now? 

“I can’t give you children.” 

“I know.” There was a pause in his heavy breathing. I couldn’t feel it on my neck. I couldn’t feel the in and out of his chest on my back. He was holding something in. He was going to say something that he had to prepare for. 

“But… I’ve thought… over this past week...” He sat up, his head no longer resting in my neck. At this new angle, with me leaning back all the way, he could just simply look down at me. There it was. Disbelief. My eyes widened in disbelief too at the words that exited his mouth. 

“... But I’m not opposed to taking your hand in marriage in the near future.” I sat up right away, looking him right in the eyes. They were as dilated as mine. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” If he had a shirt on, I would have grabbed it to pull him to my lips. This time, I moved forward, my hands flat on his chest pushing him back against the chair. He moaned slightly at my sudden attack on his lips, but these kisses were deep. They weren’t like our various sessions on the couch or deep in the night when we both couldn’t sleep. I wanted to say thank you. Over and over. I wanted to say I love you. Over and over. And he responded, kissing me back with the same passion. 

He pulled me on top of him, my legs hanging off the chair on either side of his. His hands were slowly tracing up my back, leaving what felt like a path of fire with their ascent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, one hand in his hair and the other grabbing at the skin on his back, holding my composure. Usually, at this point, Levi would ask permission for a single thing. The only thing he would do that night. May I take your bra off? May I see you down there? Yet, there was no stopping. His mouth wasn’t pulling back from mine to ask a question, and if anything he was kissing me at a bruising pace. 

When he pulled my hips down on him fully, grinding up into the crevice of my inner thigh, I knew he wasn’t going to stop tonight. I tested it, arching my back into his chest, hoping to connect my core with his own. He whimpered once into my mouth when I did this, and still, he didn’t pull back like he did before. This made my heart burst, and something fueled me to push further. Levi was going to allow it. 

His lips detached from mine, going to my lower jaw, then my neck. With one hand, he moved my head so he had the complete amount of skin to work with. I held him close to me, my eyes fluttering closed as he found that perfect little spot at the base of my neck. 

“Levi,” I moaned, and I felt him smirk into the softness of my skin, not stopping his assault and leaving a small bruise, matching the other ones. Once his hands coasted over my waist, they went back up, stopping at the back of my brasserie, two thumbs slipping under the material to test the waters. I ground down on him again, letting him know that it was okay. His dick twitched up into me, excited by my given consent, and in one swoop he unbuttoned the linen fabric and threw it somewhere across the room. It was going to stay there. 

As soon it was off the heat of my skin contrasted with the cold air of the room, making goosebumps rise all over my skin. I arched my back again, giving Levi a full view of my breasts, which he was obliged to take. He just sat back, like he had when I’d taken my shirt off, and took in my body in front of him. This made my arousal grow, and I knew that at this point he could feel it seeping through the thin fabric of my undergarment onto his. He was just there, staring, not giving me any relief. This time, he wasn’t going to rush through things. One hand went up, his thumb glancing over the peak of my right nipple, making me shiver at the touch. He took that in too. The way my body was so ready to be under his. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, leaning forward to kiss the valley between both of my breasts, “All mine.” His voice was low and had taken on a new filter that I’d never heard before. His voice was making me drip. 

“Lev, please.” He looked up at me, face between both of my breasts, and slowly brought his other hand up to pinch my left nipple. I squirmed at this, my sense going overboard at just how little he was giving me. I tried to get relief by using his own arousal to rub against mine, but he had shifted back, only allowing me relief on his thigh. I would take it at this point. All of this sexual release had been building up the past month and a half. He would touch me so little, making me orgasm with his fingers or his mouth so quickly, and then move on with the rest of his day. He would never allow me to pleasure him either. It was like he was playing with me this whole time and I wanted it to be over. I wanted him to finally have his way with me the way I knew he wanted to. The way in which his eyes still lingered over my post-orgasm figure, wanting so bad to enter me. 

“Please what, Ev?” He whispered, teasing me completely. His elbows tightened around my sides, practically lifting me off his thigh so I couldn’t move anymore. Until I answered him, I was immobile. I bit my bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling as his thumbs just rolled over both of my nipples in tandem. He would make me sit here like this for hours if I didn’t answer.

“Touch me,” I groaned out, but he didn’t move. I tried to squirm again, motioning to him that I wasn’t having this, but he just chucked. 

“I am touching you, brat.” I outwardly groaned when he said that, letting him know just how dissatisfied I was with this current situation. The slow stimulation of my breasts was driving me crazy, and it was almost worse than this whole month-and-a-half of half-filled orgasms and longing touches. 

“Please fuck me.” This made his elbows go slack, but so did his hands, finding their way to my waist again, holding me there. It felt so demeaning having to ask him like this when he knew for so long that that was exactly what I wanted. Yet, he was still laughing, grabbing my chin so I had to look him right in the eye. He kissed the edge of my mouth, then my cheek, then my jaw, teasing over and over by pushing his thigh up into me at his pace. All I could do was sit there and take it. 

“I’m going to make love to you tonight, Evlynn. I’ll fuck you later.” He picked me up, standing from the chair, and carrying me a few feet into the bedroom. Slowly, he laid me down, coming to hover above me. He kissed me once, then twice, then descended to swirl one of my nipples in his mouth, the other being attended to by his hand. This time, I had nothing to grind into to relieve the aching in my core, and all I could do was rub my thighs together for some relief. He noticed this, and opened them, settling himself in between so I couldn’t rub against anything. 

“Any pleasure you feel tonight is going to be because of me,” he asserted, moving to my other breast. I just moaned under him, wrapping one leg around his hips to pull him closer onto me. His lips moved, kissing down my stomach, hovering over some of the scars he assessed earlier. While he was taking his time, moving so slowly, I had to relieve something, so I grabbed my breasts myself. Rolling them in my hands harshly to feel something other than his teasing, featherlight kisses. 

“Hands up!” He bit into my thigh. I blinked, looking down at him as he was directly between my legs. His eyes were blown out and intense, and he had given me that voice. The one he talks to the cadets in. He was ordering me. With wide, doe-eyes, I did what he said, not daring to go against his orders. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled into my thigh, moving his hands under them to give a better vantage point. Again, he started teasing me. The closest he got to my center was kissing the edge of my undergarment. Above him, I was a whimpering mess, trying to move my body so maybe his lips would slip somewhere else, but he moved his hands up to hold me down into the bed. For a third time, I couldn’t move and I had to take everything he wasn’t giving to me. 

“I want to take you in slowly. I’ve waited so long for this.” Even the breath he let out from that sentence missed my core, giving me no form of relief. I could only grab onto the pillow above me, his pillow, and pray he would give me it soon. I had gotten so accustomed to him just going for it, that now this was torture. He wasn’t giving me his fingers, his mouth; nothing. It had me groaning and whimpering under him louder than ever before. 

“Please, please, please, please.” I got some power and bucked my hips up to his face, which made him smile up at me and run one finger down my slit, feeling the wetness of the cloth covering it. 

“All for me?” I just nodded, my head having been thrown back by that one single touch, “Words.” He lightly slapped my clit, reprimanding me. 

“Ugnh - fuck!” He slowly circled my clit with one finger, waiting for me to answer his question. The way he was commanding me was setting a fire in my stomach and it made me mold to comply. 

“All for you!” I let out in one breath, a loud moan following as it gave my clit a single kiss, the fabric still in between me and his mouth. If he didn’t start soon, this bastard was going to make me cry. My eyes widened then, looking only at the ceiling in realization. He wanted me to beg. He wanted me to use my words. 

“Levi, please take it off.” He looked up at me, only the tip of his tongue circling my clothed clit, motioning to the reason why he hadn’t taken it off yet. My hands were at my sides, clutching the sheets. Slowly, I lifted them up again, crossing them above my head to try and secure them. 

“There we go,” he said, pulling off the only article of clothing left on my body. When he did this, he sat upon the bed, his hands going with him. There he was, looking down at me completely naked before him. His eyes were darkening still as he could see my wetness glisten just for him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he took one finger, always one finger, and dragged it down my slit collecting the juices that were already there, “My beautiful girl,” he pushed his one finger inside of me, “All laid out for me. Finally.” 

He moved his finger in and out, drawing moans from me. They were loud. They were whimpers. He was finally touching me in the way I wanted. Not fast. Not quick. He added a second finger, which made my back lift off the bed slightly and he moved to push me down with one hand. In and out, in and out, just stretching me. Only when he felt satisfied with how much I drenched his fingers did he move his mouth down. He took no time latching onto my clit, giving it kitten licks at first. As soon as he sucked on the bud once, then he allowed his fingers to curve, hitting the one spongy spot he’d studied the location of. My eyes were blown out, stars dancing in my vision. The way he was working his tongue over the most sensitive part of my body and using his fingers to get me up to my high had me spinning. He’d never used them in tandem. No man had ever used them like this either. I was shaking, my nails digging into my forearms, trying to keep them above my head. I didn’t want it to stop. If I dropped my hands he would no doubt stop. I wanted to drop them and shove his head down on me further. 

“Look at me.” I did, right away. Wasting no time and giving him no excuse to punish me again. I looked as his mouth was completely on my core, eating me like a man who had starved. No, he was a starving man, now getting full off of me. His tongue was giving long, harsh licks to my clit, and now his fingers had moved to a faster pace, hitting my g-spot with every thrust. I chanted his name over and over like a poem. Like one of those hymns, the Order of the Walls would sing on the streets. My song. Levi. Levi. Over and over again. He wouldn’t let me fuck myself on his tongue, one arm completely over my hips, and soon, I felt the knot grow in my lower stomach. 

“I-I’m… close!” I shouted out, and his eyes conveyed complete lust, looking up at me writhing for him to give me what I needed. I needed to cum like this. It was nothing I’d felt before. The knot was so tight in my stomach and I was yelling so loud, the neighbors a building over might come and knock tomorrow morning. 

“Please. Please, can I cum? Please!” His mouth came down once more, harder, sucking only on my clit. All it took was one harsh curve of his fingers coupled with a single, long lick, and I was coming undone on his tongue. This wasn’t like before. My hands came down, grabbing the sheets as I was sent into my high at a crushing pace. His fingers were still going in and out, overstimulating me as I shook from head to toe. The only thing on my tongue was his name. Once I started to jerk away from his fingers, tears welling in my eyes motioning to him that I had come down from my orgasm, he pulled them out, sticking them right in his mouth to clean them. 

“So dirty.” 

He moved back up my body quickly, latching his lips onto mine, giving me a taste of myself. His tongue slipped in too, now not at that slow and deep pace we had before in the office. This time, he was the one being tempted by a release. He ground down on me, my wetness covering his shorts again. This time, he was completely hard and when I put my hand down to rub him, to tease him like he did me, I relished in the fact that he didn’t move my arm away. He let out a grunt in my ear as I finally was able to move my hand inside his undergarments and grab onto his dick, hard and long. I felt it all. The veins, the ridges, just how big he was. Slowly, I jerked him up and down, using my thumb to tease his slit. His jaw tensed when I did this too like he had to hold back to urge to ravish me in the way he told me he wasn’t going to do. 

“Can I take them off?” I asked, and he went to kiss me, this time lighter as he looked directly into my eyes. He reached down and took them off himself, my hand still going up and down his length. Now, we were finally both naked in front of each other. Not just one or the other. I was finally touching him. He was finally letting me see all of him. I looked down, noticing the size and the redness he was displaying. I knew then what I wanted to do, but when I went to slide down to try and give him relief with my mouth, an equal exchange, he held me below him, a harsh grip on my hip. 

“I told you. This is about you.” He reached down and took my hand off of him, lacing our fingers together. The cocky captain that was ordering me while between my legs had left, and I saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he lined up with my entrance. I put my other hand on the back of his neck, encouraging him to push forward. 

“Are you sure you want me to?” He asked, a moment of doubt. He’d never made love to anyone before. 

“I want only you, Levi.” I pulled him down to kiss him, another deep and long kiss, and when he pushed into me completely, we both groaned into the kiss. It had been a while since I had sex, and he could tell by the way I winced softly as he pushed back in again. He kissed my forehead, then my cheek, his hand squeezing mine as he slowly started a pace in and out. After two thrusts, he hit the spot inside of me that sent my body reacting up into his. I was no longer in pain, and both of us were wrapped in pleasure. He angled his hips up expertly so he would hit my g-spot with every thrust, and soon his head was buried in my neck, whispering praise. 

“You feel so good. You’re so good. Mine. All mine. So beautiful, taking me like this. Perfect.” I threw my head back again, and he took my other hand which was digging into his back, putting it above my head. He used one hand to hold them up there, and the other to squeeze the sides of my neck, cutting off my air. This sent shockwaves to my core and my head. 

“Oh my, yes! Yes, yes, yes. Levi!” 

“Ugh, so fucking gorgeous with the moonlight on you. Fuck, you were made for me. Look how well you’re taking me. Pussy sent from above. Just for me.” His praises made me pant and cry with every thrust, making my body set on fire once again. The knot was ever-so tighter with him pounding into me, losing whatever slow self-control he had earlier. We were both chasing our highs for our first time together. I looked into his eyes, the moonlight shining into the grey, making them seem so bright. So open. He’s going to marry me. That’s the thought that was running through my head. This man. This handsome, gorgeous man was going to be mine. This man, who was whispering sweet nothings in my ear making me feel like some goddess, was going to be mine. 

“Oh my god, fuck!” He grunted loudly in my ear as his hips snapped harshly into mine. 

“I’m going to… I’m-” He took the hand off my neck, reaching down to circle my clit. 

“Me, too,” he breathed out. So close. So close. 

“Levi!” I called out, as he pinched my clit ever-so-lightly, sending me right into my high. This time, I couldn’t control how my body was moving below him, my second orgasm taking complete control of me. He was still pushing in and out, having to use the hand that was on my clit to hold my hips down. 

“Fuck, Eva. God, I’m going to…” He whined loudly in his ear, the overstimulation hitting me again, and this seemed to be what sent him over. Pulling out quickly, he came on my stomach, head thrown back in pleasure as his hand milked everything out of him. So much came out, painting my stomach in white. I was breathing too hard, trying to recover, to care. He still had his head buried in my neck, and I realized what he was whispering, caught up by the pleasure his orgasm had brought him. 

“I love you so much, fuck. Eva. Love you. So much. So perfect. Evlynn. God. What did you do to me?” This made me breathe harder, eyes watering finally hearing him say those words to me. I didn’t even move when he got up, turning the oil lamp in the bathroom up to go get a towel.

He finally said it. 

His feet padded against the ground, and I sat up on my elbows, looking at him standing in the door, one arm gripping the side frame. His eyes were still ever intense, looking at me down on the bed, towel in hand. My legs were still shaking, and the look he was giving me wasn’t helping. My chest was moving up and down now, but not because of the activity previous. To break the tension, he just smiled, coming over on the bed to wipe me off, folding the towel, his towel, and putting in on the top of the dresser to clean later. He grabbed the blankets, opening them to crawl underneath and pull me with him. I was lying completely on top of him and he had one hand rubbing my back, the other playing with my hair. It had been five minutes and we still hadn’t said a word to each other. 

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair, and I smiled, snuggling into him more. A few tears came to my eyes too, just like when he said he was going to marry me. 

“I love you, too.” He sighed and pulled me up higher so my head was in his neck this time. He pulled the blanket up higher so that I was covered up to my neck. 

“No one’s ever told me that before.” I gripped him tighter, sitting up so that I was looking down into his eyes. There it was again. Disbelief. Fear. I needed to get rid of that. 

“I love you, Levi.” He just nodded, smiling slightly up at me. 

-

“Oh god, fuck!” I yelled into the pillow, his hand pushing my head down into the mattress as he pounded into me from behind. I had to turn my head to the side so I could breathe with the force he was using. I knew I was going to have bruises on my legs from earlier in the night, but now that was going to be mixed with handprints as he found out quickly how nice my ass bounced when he slapped it. 

“Levi!” I called out at one aggressive thrust, hitting the spot I desperately wanted him to hit. He was being mean to me this morning, saying how I was so rude going to leave him in bed alone to go down to work after he’d just made love to me. He also said he promised to fuck me after. So here we were. Now, I was going to be late. At least there weren’t any customers who came in this early anymore. They would be hearing my moans loud and clear through the floorboards.

“That’s not my name, brat.” He took his hand off the bed frame and pulled me up by my hair, my body now flush against his chest. I let out another moan as this position made it so easy for his dick to angle up and give me the high I wanted. Another hash slap to my bottom told me he wanted me to correct myself. 

“Captain!” I yelled out, and this satisfied him, shoving me back down and starting at a relentless pace that made me and the bed move forward. I grabbed at anything to keep me stationary, and my moans were beginning to sound dumb, mixed with the saliva coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t catch my breath as he hit against my cervix with every thrust. 

“C-Captain! I’m c… coming!” He sped up, trying to fuck me through my climax, only to reach his own, pulling out to spread his seed over my bottom. After he was done, signaled by him going to get the towel he had folded up last night, I collapsed down onto the bed, stomach first. My knees were in pain from being in that position for so long, him using his dick to tease me into oblivion and submission.

“My legs…” I groaned to him as he cleaned me off and he just gave one masochistic chuckle, throwing the towel into the dirty clothes bin. 

“Should I sneak down and put a sign on the door that you won’t be open today?” I rolled over, now on my back, looking up at him, still bare, but one hand on his hip. He seemed completely unaffected by what he just did to me, other than being extra sweaty. I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking this sudden cockiness.

“Should I tell Hange you like to be called Captain in bed?” I smirked up at him and his smile dropped. He was now glaring at me, but the blush in his cheeks didn’t slide past me one bit. If I could sit up without hurting my guts, I would poke his cheek. 

“G-Get the fuck up… you brat. How can you have such a bad work ethic? Sleeping in for so long!” He grabbed a fresh pair of linen pants, sliding them on quickly, and walking out of the room to get away from me. 

“I love you!” I called out to him. 

“Thanks!”

Chapter Eighteen →

Chapter Masterlist

[nythberryy]

Hold Me Tight (Erwin x fem!Reader)

I wrote an Attack on Titan fanfiction (oneshot) in which Erwin Smith is a real gentleman.

Words: 2955

Warning:

The story contains 18+ scenes and builds up slow.

-They'd known each other for a long time, yet none of them confessed until that rainy night.-

It starts a bit sad, but trust me, it ends well. 💞

It's my first story written in English, so I apologize for grammatical mistakes and cringe writing.

I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable. 💞

(I also posted it on ao3. You can find me there as: NythBerry)

Thank you for your time!✨

September was usually gilded by the last sunbeams of summer, however that day was colder than usual. As clouds gathered, the sky turned grey. Raindrops began to knock on the red tile roof just to then fall and soak the ground. It was raining all day without a break. Everyone from the city struggled to get through the mud. The carts couldn't fight it, the horses neighed as they tried to push forward. Wooden wheels crackled, some even broke in two.

A tall man walked into the guesthouse. Water was slowly dripping from his clothes. With each step he made, he left a puddle on the freshly washed floor. (Y/N) recognized him in a blink of an eye though his face was covered by the green hood he was wearing. He stopped at the counter and revealed his face. His blonde hair, that was always slicked back nicely, now was a mess. Wet strands fell on his forehead.

(Y/N) put down the mop and wiped her hands to greet the man. "Erwin!"

"Good evening, (Y/N)! I'd like to book a room for tonight."

"What happened to your trousers?" it was covered in mud to the knee "Is it that bad outside?"

"It's raining quite heavily" he said "I don't think I would be able to go back tomorrow."

"I'll prepare a room for you. Just sit down please. There's no one here anyway, except an elderly couple upstairs. Do you want to drink something warm? Tea maybe?"

"Tea is fine, thank you."

Erwin took a seat in front of the counter and watched the woman placing the teapot on the stove. She quickly ran into the pantry and returned with a basket full of baked goods. She put some on a plate and gave it to the man.

"How's your father?" he asked while (Y/N) wiped the floor again. Her father owned this little guesthouse that once was famous.

"He's alright. But I'm afraid we won't be able to afford his medications. Less and less people can afford to book a room and we simply can't make the prices cheaper. I don't really know what to do."

"Don't worry, (Y/N)!" a kind hoarse voice appeared from behind. It was her father. "Welcome, Commander Smith! What brings you here again?"

"Good evening!" he greeted back. "Just another budget negotiation. As usual, the government has no intentions of increasing funds."

"As much as I want to support the Scouts, I unfortunately see why they don't want to do so in moments like this." Her father was in the regiment before he retired. Erwin and he shared similar views on the importance of going beyond the walls. "(Y/N)! Go prepare a room and find some clothes for him."

While she went to search dry clothes that would fit the commander, the two man began to talk about a different topic.

"I know why you visit this place so often" chuckled the father as he opened a bottle of whisky. He poured them both. "I see how you look at her."

For a moment Erwin didn't know what to say, which was quite unusual of him. A small smile curved his lips. "So, you found out my secret."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out. I have eyes. It's that simple." he sipped "You've known my daughter for years. Since when...?"

"It's one of those things that just can't be put in words. It was four years ago, that moment I realized I wanted to see her as many times as I could."

"Why didn't you tell her? You're afraid I'd bring the rifle? Or maybe you're more afraid of her? You think she would reject you?" he smiled "I can tell she has feelings for you too. Haven't you noticed how excited she is seeing you? She's not even looking at other guys, though she's in the age of marriage. What will she do when I'll be gone? At least you, as a commander, would make a great reputation for her." he joked "She'll be left alone like the last leaf on a tree before winter begins."

"That's why I won't tell her. I don't want to cause pain." he grabbed the glass and drank from it "To be honest, I don't even know if I'll be here next month. There's just no guarantee." he sighed "But I'm a selfish man. I still want to see her every time I'm near her. I'm truly the worst. I can't give her happiness, only suffering. I don't want (Y/N) to lose more people."

(Y/N)'s father knew Erwin was right. Her mother passed away, when she was fourteen; lost many loved ones when Shiganshina fell. Childhood friends, friends whom she trusted the most, old neighbours she liked and nearly all relatives of their family were gone now.

Both men knew the feeling. Without further words they agreed and sat back quietly.

(Y/N) heard the conversation. When she heard that Erwin had feelings for her, she thought her heart was going to break through her ribcage, like a desperate bird ready to be free. However, as he continued, her hearth shattered into pieces. (Y/N) pretended she didn't hear anything and told the blonde man his room was ready. He stood up and walked towards the stairs where she was standing.

"Change into these" she gave him the dry clothes "I'll knock on your door in ten minutes."

...

"Can I come in?" she asked. Erwin replied with a yes. (Y/N) walked into the room catching a glimpse of the commander's chest while he was buttoning the last button. He picked up the soaked clothes from the chair and held it out for (Y/N).

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"Erwin..." she began faintly and grabbed his arm "We need to talk."

"About what?" he looked surprised.

"I heard everything and-"

Erwin interrupted. "You don't have to worry about it. I won't do anything." he shook her hand off.

"You don't even want to know how I feel?"

"What would it change? You should find someone better. Someone who can be there for you. Someone who's not selfish. There're many good men out there."

"What about my choice? You think you can make decisions for me?"

He put the clothes back on the chair. "I don't want to put you through hell."

"It's already hell." she said with a slight hitch in her voice "You have no idea how long... How long I've ... Erwin..." Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

It pained him to see the woman, whom he loved the most, looking so defeated.

"I love you, Erwin!" she cried out "And nothing can change that."

It snapped him out of his stubbornness for a second. He gently pulled (Y/N) into a hug, placing her head on his chest. The feeling of his warmth and beating hearth was pure heaven.

"I want you. Only you."

"(Y/N), I can't give you happiness."

"What it is at all?" she sniffled. "There's no such thing as that... It's not a destination you can arrive to and stay there for the rest of your life. Happiness is a temporary state. It comes and goes. And... What defines it anyways?

"I still don't want you to get hurt. Especially because of me." he paused for a bit "I could die at any time. What if I go on a mission and never come back?"

"You think I don't know that, Erwin? Every time you go out the walls I worry, but... Did you know that in this awful world you're the one who keeps me alive?" she pressed herself against his comforting chest "And what about you? You think you don't deserve your so-called happiness? If you have feelings for me, why don't you..."

As she looked up, her eyes met with his. Tears were coming to his sky-blue eyes.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"I am. I want you to hold me tight and never let go."

...

Erwin placed his hand on her face caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He leaned closer to kiss her forehead, then gave another kiss on her nose making her blush. Finally, he pressed his warm lips against hers. He sucked her lips slowly, evenly, as he was dining something sweet as nectar. She was his delicate flower.

His kiss was subtle and tender, however a wave of heat flushed through him causing to kiss more passionately. Erwin slid his tongue across her bottom lip luring her mouth to open for him. His tongue swirled around hers composing an intimate, sensual dance. A slight moan escaped from (Y/N) in response. She slid her hands up his back, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. As a result, he groaned, and the urge to pull her hips against his grew. As much as he wanted to devour her, he had to resist.

The commander pulled away, only to realize that he wasn't the only one getting excited. The woman's body was filled with desire too. He watched her chest rise and fall hastily with each breath she took. He couldn't help but admire the beauty that was in front of him.

"You're gorgeous, (Y/N)." he held both of her hands and placed two gentle kisses on them "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to hold back. You're driving me crazy."

"I feel the same. I want you, Erwin."

Their lips met once again. The passion they felt had been buried in their hearts for years. The man possessed her lips claiming every centimetre of it while she held onto his strong shoulders tightly. Erwin guided her slowly to the writing table, not breaking the kiss even for a second. He lifted her up and placed her on the desk.

The commander's lips travelled down her neck and goose bumps flooded her skin tilting her head to the side. He tucked her blouse out of her skirt to slide his large hands under the fabric. When he touched her stomach, a sudden thought startled her. What if she's not good enough?

"Erwin... The candles..."

"I want to see you" he whispered in her ear.

"But..." she grasped his shoulder.

"No buts. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. No one can compete with you" the man kissed her cheek "Can I take your blouse off?"

She'd been deprived for far too long of this man who now was standing right in front of her. She nodded, and looked away in fear of what he would see might disgust him. Erwin took it off her and freed her breasts from the undergarment.

"Look at me, (Y/N)." he begged and with a bit of hesitation, she did so, finding his sparkling blue eyes, so full of love and excitement, staring down at her. Meeting his gaze, she smiled sweetly before closing her eyes as he inclined his head. He also pulled his hips tight against hers. "You did this to me, (Y/N)."

He laid her down gently on the wobbly desk and his mouth was on her breasts quicky, conquering all of it. His fiery tongue played with one of her nipples while the other was held in his hand. Next, he travelled lower and lower, down to her stomach, only to find the skirt in the way. She felt a sudden wetness between her legs.

"Can I?" he asked for permission. She nodded. She ached for it.

He removed the skirt and her shoes too. Erwin placed a kiss on her beauty through her panties before he pulled it off and trailed it down her leg. He kissed the hill again and ran two fingers down on it.

"You're soaking already, (Y/N)." then he started to explore her slit with his tongue "You're so sweet, my darling."

He sucked on the folds a little, then parted them to make his way up to her clit which he tickled wickedly. With a finger he began tracing circles around her entry. Shortly after, he slid it in. (Y/N) flinched a little, letting out a moan. After he realized she could take more, he added another one.

She enjoyed it greatly. She grabbed Erwin's head, ran her fingers through his soft hair while pulling him closer to her hips. She wanted more. Erwin was surprised by her action, and began to lick and move his fingers more passionately. Her body was burning in explicit heat. A sudden wave of extasy rushed through her and he was proud seeing his efforts paying off.

The man straightened up to hurriedly rip his shirt off and throw it on the floor. (Y/N) was mesmerized by his well- built form. She wanted to touch it, so she sat up to lean closer. She explored each muscle with her finger, even caressed his hard nipples. She travelled further down to his pants. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as her fingers lightly touched his sensitised flesh made her wanting Erwin even more.

"If you touch me like that I might..." Erwin's mouth left an excited hiss as she pulled down his trousers a little.

He stepped back to take it off along with his shoes as well. As he tugged down his underwear, his rock-hard, massive manhood revealed.

"Well..." she said in surprise "That is a titan."

He couldn't help but giggle. (Y/N) glanced up, seeing him smile at her with a sweet, sensuous smile. He stepped closer to possess her lips and lift her up from the desk just to then put her gently on the bed.

He was on top of her. The woman's breast against his chest while she wrapped her legs around his trim waist made him lose it all. He wanted to be inside her.

"(Y/N)" he sighed "Can I?"

"Yes, Erwin!"

He began to trace her entry in circular motions with his member. Softly, he placed the tip inside. She moaned in pain, feeling it tearing her walls.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asked with worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay. It's okay" she caressed his clean-shaved face. "Go on, my commander."

Their lips joined again, while he grabbed her hips and plunged deep inside her. He waited a little so she could get used to his size. A couple of minutes later, he began to move gently, sliding in and out gradually going further and speeding up the rhythm. As he heard her sweet moans, felt her warmness and tightness around him, he fell into an abyss of pleasure. Erwin couldn't tame his desire anymore, finding himself thrusting into her with an enormous intensity. He couldn't get himself to stop now. He wanted her.

Erwin grunted and groaned which she found immensely sexy. The pain already faded away, endless pleasure and joy replaced it. His thick hands made their way up to her breasts, grabbing it with more and more greed.

"I love you, Erwin" she cried out.

"I love you more."

Shameful sounds filled the room and the man increased his speed to the maximum. (Y/N) latched onto his shoulders and buried her head into his chest, trembling hard against him. A wave of pleasure started to hit them both. She tightened around his manhood, and he couldn't hold on any longer as she continued to clutch. The unbearable yet wonderful torture of being lost in her made him release his seed inside of her. It was an indescribable feeling being filled up by the man of his dreams. They remained like this for a while, panting heavily.

Erwin pulled out of her but didn't let go as he wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm sorry." he said, stroking her hair.

"For what?"

"For loving you so badly, that I lost myself and couldn't hold back."

"You're so silly." she chuckled "I enjoyed every minute of it."

"Can I clean you up?" he asked placing a gentle kiss on her forehead "I've made a mess down there"

She nodded and the commander put his underwear on. He brought a wet towel and sit back on the bed. He gently spread her legs to wipe her womanhood. Then he softly stretched her entry with his finger. Erwin blushed as he saw his liquid oozing out of her.

"Erwin?" she noticed the rosiness on his cheeks.

"Nothing..." he said looking away "I apologize."

"No need to." she sat up giving him a quick little kiss on his pink cheek "I love you!"

"I love you more, (Y/N)"

...

Morning came shining its warm, golden sunbeams. All the clouds were gone and she was in his arms, all his and he would never be so foolish to let her go. She opened her eyes, only to get lost in his sky-blue iris.

"Good morning, love!" he caressed her face.

"Morning, Erwin..." she yawned and quicky realized, that she should've been up a long time ago. "My god! I should be downstairs! What time is it? Oh! And I haven't even washed your clothes!"

"Shhh..." he stopped you from jumping out of the bed by hugging you from behind "No need to hurry. It's only six thirty."

"I wake up at five!"

"You're open at seven..."

"Yes, but there's work to do. Buying things from the market, breakfast to prepare, cleaning..." she counted on her fingers.

"It can wait. Just stay with me like this for five minutes"

"Then hold me tight, Erwin."

She couldn't resist him. She was lost in his alluring presence whenever she was with him. It was pure heaven to be in his loving arms.

The end

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Blood in the Library

Well, I finished it even though I was planning on posting it tomorrow. Not my grandest piece, but to me it has a delectable taste of whump and a little comfort seasoning. Mmmm yum. You can tell I'm hungry. Anway, this is shorter than normal, but, not to be a spoiler, still has my classic cliffhanger.

Warnings: gorey descriptions of blood, collapse/loss of consciousness, descriptions of murder, begging, descriptions of someone's lack of weight and muscles

~

Then he just... collapsed?

Fell down the stairs in epic slow-mo, eyes turning white just before his head cracked against the concrete surface. Face growing into a snowy blanch as his injuries caught up to his rapidly tiring body.

Civilian rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch him, but it was an effort close to pointless. He had already fallen deep into a pit of blackness and painless sleep.

Civilian scooped up his fevered body and hugged him close. His bloody head lolled limply across her chest until it settled in the crease of her shoulder, content to just rest there for eternity.

Civilian's eyes scouted his body, taking in the countless bruises and pools of blood. It was a horrendous sight- one that would make a squeamish person retch with revolting nausea. But she wasn't one for that, so she pressed her hands firmly against the worst of the bubbling blood geysers to staunch the streaming flow.

When the blood flow minimized to a manageable amount, she grabbed her phone and proceeded to call the ambulance, but a weak hand stopped her.

Civilian looked down to see fluttering indigo-colored eyes meeting her own rustic browns. They were, indeed, more than beautiful- dare say, gorgeous to some degree. Civilian couldn't help but admire them. The way green swirled into navy... it was a sight that she didn't want to stop seeing.

But of course, her wish was denied when the poking and prodding of the situation reminded her that the injured man was awake and quite distressed.

"No," he begged. "No...nnn, no stop stop... phsl-phslease please no." His shaky hand floated about aimlessly, but the dark azure eyes guaranteed the intensity of the weakly said plea.

For a split second, Civilian was dumbfounded before realizing that she needed to comfort and soothe the man.

"Hey," she set down the phone. Immediately, the man's anguished features relaxed, looking approvingly at the laid phone.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," she told him, not quite understanding his sudden placidity- the painless look of serenity in those irises. It was as if all agony faded with the simple gesture, but the quivering of his lips and sporadic twitches determined otherwise.

"Not that," he slurred in incomplete syllables, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay conscious.

"Okay," Civilian went to pick up her phone again, to call the much needed paramedic, but a sudden outburst from the man made her drop the phone, startled.

"No amb'lanch," he cried, but it was a waste if energy. His head dropped back against her, eyes rolling backwards once again. Civilian shook him to the waking world.

"Who are you?" She asked as if that would give her some clearance about not calling the ambulance.

"Villain..." He mumbled, slurred and incoherent, but Civilian heard it as if it was screamed at her. Then, his eyes shut all the way and he was lost to the world.

Civilian dropped the man and scurried to her feet, hands grappling at her cheeks. It was... Villain. One of the most feared criminals in the whole city. The one who strung people up by wires to slowly kill them in the most gruesome way possible.

The one that even heroes didn't dare to cross.

And he was passed out at her feet, bleeding and barely breathing.

She should've turned him in. Turned him in so that the proper authorities could finally arrest the menace that plagued the city- especially now that he was subdued and probably very compliant.

Yet... he was shivering. Shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and pain. It would be merciless to leave him to suffer- possibly die- alone. Civilian had some morals affer all.

Villain didn't. That much was clear from the way he razed cities to the ground. It was clear from the way he mercilessly slaughtered innocents. And it was more than clear when he threw bombs in front of traffic to kill and destroy everything within a half mile radius.

But he was injured.

But he had killed so many others without even blinking an eye.

No one else had to die.

Now, Civilian was not a model of muscles. She was more accurately described as a "bag of bones". Heck, some people even told her to go to a doctor- she had grown in size since then, but still.

So, linking her arms and dragging the villain a foot unlocked new muscles that she didn't even know she had. Not that she had the muscles, but after walking just a little bit, she was exhausted and sore.

"How?" She sighed and slumped down to the ground. The villain was still asleep, not bothered by the ninety degree turn Civilian maneuvered him in.

The library that Civilian volunteered at was lazily sitting itself against the sunset in a silhouetted painting. The stairs leading up to it- the ones Villain fell down- weren't too tall... ish? No, they towered over the pair, guarding the marbled building. White pillars supported the small tiled canopy with vigor, giving the quaint building a classic Roman Empire vibe.

Inside was a small isolated office where Civilian spent her lunch break. It had an expresso machine to satisfy her zealous cravings for the brunette liquid with white creamer topping.

It also had a couple comfortable bean bags that were perfect for the villain to recline upon until he woke up. It wasn't like Civilian was planning on actually tending to the vibrant red gashes. Dragging him to a heated room was enough- a gifted treasure to the villain, she believed- and it would be unlawful to go any further.

It took maybe an hour until the fit figure and skinny one barged through the glass door- the only portion of the exterior that did not hold that Pompeii look. Civilian was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Villain had not moved. His face was still and lubricant.

Civilian laid Villain upon the red castle-like carpet that spread through the hallway of the library before shutting the dark sky out, closing the door and locking it.

She then took Villain to the earlier mentioned office with more ease for the red carpet made him slide like a bolt drenched in WD-40. She opened the office. Thankfully, unlike every other room in the building, the walls barricading it were made of plaster, not transparent diamond-shaped panel windows.

She laid him upon a gray beanbag and assessed his wounds before turning to leave.

But a small whimper made her spin back around.

Villain was awake, taking in his surroundings with dazed interest- not really understanding, but realizing his situation, or dilemma, depending on what his half-delirious mind thought. Finally, after a few slow moments of searching the walls for some hidden answer, those dazzling- and slightly familiar- eyes landed on the tiny body of Civilian.

Civilian didn't know what to say. Any statement her mind conjured was shot down with a contradicting question of "what if he asks this" or "won't that make me seem like I care for him".

So she settled on a simple question that anyone would've ask anyone.

"How are you feeling?"

The villain took a while to make sense of the peculiar question. He was, in fact, never asked that from anyone.

Not even-

He shuddered, not wanting to think of the one person who might've once cared for him.

"Weird," the villain replied, eyes shifting downwards to study the masterpiece done on him. Like paint, once it dried on the flesh-covered canvas, it would be an artist's hard work.

The end result.

"Like how?" Civilian wondered, despite her natural instincts to leave.

"Dizzy? Pain, hurts. Don't know," Villain forced himself to meet those kind looking eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," Civilian answered, setting her body next to his. "I'm pretty sure these need stitches."

Villain nodded, blue eyes ragged with an uncharacteristic emotion. Fear, almost.

"You... Civ'lian?" Villain slurred, his body threatening to shut down once again.

"Yes," Civilian replied. "I am. And you are Villain." The words tasted like hot sauce in her mouth. She just admitted outloud to herself that she was caring for a villain. The most notoriously evil villain in the city, if that fact wasn't stated enough.

"Know you..."

"No, I think you are delirious."

"No. Know you," the villain asserted.

"Okay... who did this to you?" Civilian asked, watching the rapidly fading Villain's face.

"My boss and m' brother," the villain responded, his eyes slipping shut. "...Hero."

The world seemed to stop as the last word was uttered. Hero?

Those eyes. The familiar captivating gaze held in those blueberry-flavored irises. The notable green swirls, speckles of black dust... those were Hero's eyes.

Those were her boyfriend's eyes.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Survival

Pairing: Ezra x Reader

Warnings: NSFW (soft, secret/quiet smut. Some thigh riding. None too graphic), death, blood

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: My first Ezra fic! I was gonna wait until tomorrow to post this but I’m really impatient and just said fuck it, it’s 2020. Hope you lot enjoy! As always, requests and prompts are open.

Masterlist

You didn’t want to be stuck on this godforsaken moon.

The Green is what most called it due to its forestry nature. It was beautiful, but deadly all the same. Being the oldest to Cee, it was your responsibility to look after her and show her the ropes.

Damon was not your biological father but took you in anyway after the death of your mother. You didn’t particularly like the man; he was just as cold and distant with you (which you didn’t mind) as he was with Cee. That was what bothered you.

Cee was a very intelligent girl, and you always encouraged her to keep writing her book despite what Damon said otherwise about it. The smile you would receive after was worth all the fights and arguments you would have with Damon over her.

This kind of life wasn’t suitable for a young girl like her. You weren’t related to her by blood, but you always felt like a sister to her. She looked up to you more than she did her father, relied on you for any piece of humanity and comfort. Every decision you ever made was always in Cee’s best interest, because she mattered more to you than anything else in the world.

But it was hard to depart from Damon. Cee still loved her father despite their differences, and so the only thing you could do – while you bided your time to eventually leave and take Cee with you – was to stay and deal with Damon.

His greed was also something you could never stand. Yes it was nice to be rich and plentiful, and you were not oblivious to the realities of the world you lived in; but Damon’s greed was starting to become dangerous, and it was putting Cee in danger as well.

So when you’re standing in the middle of a draw, the man you had learned to be Ezra and his silent partner trying to negotiate, and Damon robbing them point blank as they had tried beforehand, you couldn’t help but feel that this was all a very bad idea.

You rob anyone and it always results in a firefight. You were prepared for it, but yet when the mute and Damon both fired at each other, both you and Cee stood there with blank expressions. Shocked and scared, Cee started to panic as Ezra, the last man standing, quickly went for a weapon.

“Go!” You said to Cee, pointing your thrower at him.

Cee hesitated before making a bee line for the lander. You only hoped that she would be able to get there in one piece.

Ezra smiled and shrugged as he watched her run away, eyes still trained on yours.

“I don’t believe I got your name,” he said.

You hated the fact that despite the situation at hand, his accent – even through your helmets – sent little trembles through you.

“You don’t need it,” you said gruffly. “And tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you down where you stand?”

He huffed. “Well, I think you would’ve by now if that’s what you really wanted sweetheart.”

Your firsts tightened around the grip of your gun. “Don’t call me that,” you growled.

Ezra put his hands up in surrender. “Alright. But I’m serious. You seem like a reasonable person, and I’m willing to negotiate.”

You hesitated. Could you really trust this man? He was partly responsible for Damon’s death, although Damon was just at fault for the whole situation breaking out the way it did, and you had Cee to protect. Ezra hadn’t moved a muscle, watching you with trained eyes.

“We follow through with Damon’s plan,” Ezra continued as he saw you contemplating. “I help you with the girl, offer my protection for the both of you. Not that I think you need it,” he added with a small smile.

You chewed on your lips as you contemplated his offer once more. You eventually aimed your thrower down, glaring at the man.

You told him your name, which brought a shiny grin to his lips as he tested it out with his natural drawl. You hated the way your heart flipped at the sound of it.

“Well then,” he stepped closer to you, and you couldn’t help but take a step back as he did. His smile faltered, just a little. “Let’s go find your girl.”

It didn’t take too long to find the damaged lander. You gave a pattern of knocks before calling out to her. Cee quickly rushed to the hatch, eyes meeting yours in relief but wavering at the sight of the man partly responsible for her father’s death.

“He’s going to help us,” you told her. “We came to an agreement. We’re going to try and find a way off this fucking moon but we gotta move now.”

Cee looked back and forth between you and Ezra. You could see the internal turmoil she was having and hoped like hell she would cooperate with you.

“Okay,” she finally said. You thought for sure she was going to say more, and she most likely wanted to but bit her tongue.  

…

It had only been a week now. You knew time was precious, but the three of you had been monitoring The Green. You weren’t surprised to find other diggers and mercenaries; it was to be expected. Outnumbered, it was your suggestion at biding time and scoping them out, making sure you all had at least a good chance at making it out of there alive.  

You made Ezra promise that if anything happened to you, that he would protect Cee. Their lives didn’t matter, only hers.

“Of course,” the conviction in his voice settled you, as did the firmness in his eyes as he promised you.

Ezra was not only incredibly handsome (which you would’ve fought tooth and nail to dispute), but he was also smart. He knew when to keep his mouth shut, how to dig, fight, track. You figured he had been at this lifestyle for quite some time now, and the old, tired look in his eyes seemed to prove your theory.

Cee wouldn’t give him her name at first, and he – much to your appreciation – did not push it. Eventually, however, you heard her blabbing away about her book to him; your heart swelled at the soft smile Ezra held as he encouraged her to continue.

It was rocky at first, your little partnership. You only answered his questions when it was necessary, and always kept your thrower in your hand just in case. Ezra was nothing but patient with you and overtime you had begun to open up to him.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough,” you said to him. Cee stayed behind to rest in Ezra’s tent while you and Ezra went out to scout. “For Cee, I mean.”

Ezra, who was walking in front of you, stopped to turn around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy. “I- I mean that I’m not doing enough for her.”

He nodded then in understanding, turning back around to lead the way. “You’re tryin’. Putting her wants and needs above yours, it’s the best you can do for a young one.”

You nodded. You knew he didn’t see it, but you were so deep in thought you didn’t even realize he stopped dead in his tracks until you literally bumped into him. He caught you before you could fall, and you wanted nothing more than to melt in his arms in that moment.

“She obviously cares about you very much,” he assured, arms still settled around your forearms. You looked up at him, fighting hard not to trail your eyes down to his lips, which you desperately wanted to feel against yours. You wondered if they would feel soft or chapped, what he would taste like against your tongue.

“And I can see that you do too. Now I know that we had a rough start, but I gave you my word. The girl will see off this moon alive, no matter what.”

You clenched your jaw. “Yeah,” you croaked. “She will.”

You also couldn’t deny the sexual tension that coursed between you and Ezra. He didn’t miss the way you would quickly avert your eyes once he caught you staring at him, or the way you would hold your breath when he was close to you, fingers twitching as if you were desperate to feel his touch.

Being the man that he was, he teased you. Little brushes against you, blowing it off by reaching behind you to grab a bar or a tool. Throwing you little smirks when you explain something to him. It was driving you crazy, and you wanted nothing more than to jump the man. The only thing that stopped you, really, was that you had Cee.

You knew Cee had detected the flirting, and she rolled her eyes every time Ezra cracked a joke at your expense. It felt like your skin was crawling. The thick, fiery boil in your stomach coiling and coiling until it threatened to explode. The ache in your core was one of the worsts of all; it had been so long since you felt the intimate touch of another.

While Cee was dead asleep, you had decided enough was enough. The next sunrise was the day to finally make a move for the Queen’s Lair, and there was no guarantee for anyone’s safety. It was now or never, and if the feelings were mutual between you and Ezra, then you refused to die without feeling him. Pushing your small excuse for a blanket back, you tip-toed across to Ezra’s bunk. He looked so peaceful, and you could see now his age, but it only made him more beautiful in your eyes. It was enough to almost change your mind. Almost.

You gently shook his shoulder. His mouth, which was slightly open in a quiet snore, quickly shut, eyes opening wide in slight panic.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you whispered, hand still on his shoulder.

Ezra glared up at you, sleep washing away from his eyes. “Okay?”

You hesitated. He kept staring in puzzlement until it finally clicked. Your flushed state, the embarrassment, chest heaving silently in eagerness. He grinned, opening his blanket to you.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered huskily.

You inhaled sharply before practically jumping onto the bunk. Your hands sat awkwardly between the both of you, now enclosed in his warmth.  

Ezra covered you both, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. You gasped, one hand on his covered chest and the other just under his chin. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing your hair way before cupping your cheek. Your lips were barely touching now and it was electric, breaths mixing together as you looked into his dark eyes; they were blown wide, and it only made you clench your thighs together for the friction you desperately craved.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he said against your lips.

Such a foolish thing to say. You never wanted him to stop. He hadn’t even kissed you yet and you were already a puddle at his feet.

You answered with a clash of lips and teeth. Ezra had to hold back the groan that threatened to claw its way out, exhaling sharply through his nose instead. It had been a while for him as well.

His lips were better than you imagined. They were rough, slightly chapped, but somehow still soft all the same. You were convinced only Ezra could pull off such a distinctive and alluring spell with only the touch of his lips.

The hand that was wrapped around your waist slowly trailed down to your ass, groping it and kneading the flesh, earning a gasp from you; he took this opportunity to explore your mouth, both of you sighing at the taste of each other.

He slipped a thigh between your legs, bringing the other leg around his hip. You couldn’t help but to start grinding against his thigh, knuckles tightening around his arm as his lips trailed down your neck. You closed your eyes in bliss, his hand ghosting over the skin left uncovered by your shirt. Your stomach clenched, pulling back to pull the shirt over your head. Ezra looked at you in awe.

“Use me,” you whispered.

He gulped. It was all a blur, and suddenly he was on top of you, tearing down your pants and working on his. You shuddered at his thick girth, slapping against his stomach. You both looked over to Cee, still sleeping comfortably with her back turned as he pulled the blanket closer over the both of you, making sure to cover up your nakedness.

He kissed you again, palming your breast in one palm and tweaking your nipple in the other. Your back arched up into him, legs opening wider for him. His hips shifted against yours, the head of his cock brushing against your clit; Ezra had to bite back the moan, body shaking from restraint as he broke the kiss to look down.

“Please,” you begged. “Ezra.”

Ezra pressed his forehead against yours as he pushed into you. A moan would’ve escaped you if it hadn’t been for his lips. His breaths were shaky as he bottomed out, hips pressed firmly against yours. Your walls clenched from the fullness, making him close his eyes tightly and bury his face in your neck. The both of you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Shit,” he whispered in your ear.

He started to move once you shifted your hips up, starting as slow and quietly as he could. He felt divine inside you. You trailed kisses down his gorgeous neck, biting down softly when he hit your sweet spot. He gripped a handful of your hair, tightening his grip as he started to move a little faster. His mouth stayed firmly planted on your collarbone as your hands trailed up and down his back, feeling the muscles ripple with every thrust before finally settling in his hair and back.

In that moment there was nothing else in the world but you and Ezra. You would die a happy woman if it meant having this moment with him. In the short time you had known him you grew attached, which you realized this to be a dangerous thing.

Where he was hard and calloused, touched by the harsh years, you were soft, sweet. The combination only fueled the desire, the need for each other. Where he was fire, you were ice, forming together in perfect harmony and creating something terrifyingly beautiful.

It felt as though Ezra felt the same, because when he pulled his head back to kiss you as your orgasms started to peak, you felt all the words he couldn’t say bleed into you like pure air – nothing like the sterile, recycled oxygen you were so used to.

You feel so fucking good around me.

I’ve wanted you since day one.

We have to fight through this together.

I can’t let you die.

I won’t let you die.

Every molecule in your body sang with euphoria as your walls tightened around his cock. His thrusts had turned harder now, not enough for it to be loud, but enough to bring that delicious ache you know you’d be feeling for days. You bit down harshly on his shoulder as you came, nails digging into his back. Ezra gritted his teeth and dug his short nails into the tender skin of your thigh, releasing himself into you.

You didn’t let go of him as you tried to catch your breath. You looked over to see that Cee had turned a little but was still otherwise very asleep. Thank god she was a heavy sleeper.

Ezra kissed your forehead, nose, then lips before pulling out with a small hiss. You grabbed your shirt to put on, watching as he pulled his pants back up. He reached over you, fumbling underneath the bunk until he found what he was looking for. He gently cleaned you off with the cloth, throwing it back under and pulling you into his chest after helping you with your clothes.  

“I apologize,” he said after a few moments of silence.

You frowned. “For what?”

“For…” His eyes trailed down, and it took you a second before your eyebrows raised in understanding.

“It’s okay. I liked it.”

You felt the rumble of his small chuckle, smiling softly.

“I’ll remember that then, sweetheart.”

…

“Go!”

Ezra was bleeding from the stab wound in his abdomen, pushing you towards Cee. The whole thing had gone to shit. Bodies laid out around you, their blood seeping into the patchy ground. And now there were mercenaries after you and only one pod to your ticket home. It was so close, but Ezra was already pale from the blood loss and you couldn’t find your fucking kit and you were crying and you can’t lose him.

“Ezra,” your voice shook. “Come on.”

“I can’t,” he panted. “You need to go. Don’t die because of me. Take Cee and leave.”

Cee. You had to protect Cee. Your chin trembled. You pressed your helmet against his before whispering an apology.

Ezra watched as you grabbed Cee’s hand and ran. He closed his eyes, struggling for air. But, oddly enough, he was okay with his death. Because it was to protect you and Cee. He wasn’t the definition of noble or good by any means, had killed plenty of people himself just for the precious gems alone. He did what was necessary to live. But if he could do this one right thing, if he could die knowing you were alive and safe, then he could accept it with open arms.

He suddenly felt an intense pressure against his wound, eyes going wide and mouth opening in painful shock.

You sat over him, patching his stab wound to the best of your ability before looping his arm around your shoulders and yours around his waist.

“C’mon!” You grunted.

Ezra stood up, grunting at the pain but letting you carry him – as much as you could anyway, even dying he was still mindful – towards the pod. Cee helped you carry him in and closed the hatch.

You and Cee sighed in relief once the pod had successfully taken off. You made sure Ezra was patched up properly and relaxed as you sat down next to him. He looked at you in amazement, offering a gently smile in thanks.

You smiled back as you grabbed his hand, reaching to your right to hold on to Cee’s. A new sense of hope coursing through the three of you. You survived.

  Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @outlawers​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @pascalisthepunkest​

[aboveallarescuer]

How Dany assesses the counsel she receives and makes her own choices - Battle of Yunkai

This will be a series of posts meant to show that Dany is open to receiving advice and criticism, but that she doesn’t act solely based on what other people tell her to do. On the opposite, GRRM makes great effort to write a Dany who most often merges different viewpoints and/or finds her own solutions to the problems she’s facing. I won’t include every single decision she ever made (e.g. her decisions at court are often made without counsel and her execution of the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs was already exhaustively and deftly analyzed by other people), but there will be plenty of instances in this series that will prove my point nonetheless. 

Since Dany doesn't receive a lot of advice in this chapter and I want to highlight her agency and skills here, I’m putting the verdict above so that people who don’t want to read the entire meta can at least find its synthesized points right away.

Chapter (s):

ASOS Daenerys IV

The advice Dany receives:

Both Jorah and Barristan warn Dany that she won't convince neither the Stormcrows nor the Second Sons to switch allegiances.

Verdict:

In this chapter, Dany:

Applies Barristan's lessons when she willingly chooses to assess the enemy forces and makes a reasonable guess of how many men the Yunkish forces have.

Has in mind that the sellswords, who are fighting on horseback, are more likely to cause damage and kill too many of her freedmen. (This will inform her plan later)

Embraces her limitations to mock those who will underestimate her for them. (And the author will give plenty of reasons to challenge the simplistic notion that Dany is just a young girl who does not know the ways of war.)

Applies historical knowledge to support her opinion that her forces will overwhelm her enemies'.

Maintains her self-composure and offers excellent comebacks when the captains and the envoy try to slut-shame and/or sexually harass her.

Is doing what she's doing for no other reason than to free the slaves in Yunkai:

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

She could have taken other chests from the city like she suggests she might do, but she promises instead that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered" (and that will bite her in the ass later in ADWD).

The only thing she requires is that the former slaves are "allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions" and that they are given "food, clothing, coin and goods". Doing this doesn't benefit her in any way, it only helps the slaves.

Outlines a tactical plan that is motivated by her desire to prevent a high number of freedmen casualties and that implies knowledge of:

The Yunkish forces' tactical formation.

The basic topography of the area.

Her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning").

Stays in the room while her captains decide how to better execute her plan. We don't know how much she contributed to the conversation, but it nevertheless shows her willingness to learn more.

When Daario shows up and declares that he and his men will fight for her, she:

Considers if he might be a spy, worries if there are others and is initially suspicious if he's just trying to save his own skin.

Only changes her mind when she sees that he killed the other commanders and that the dragons are fond of him.

Knows that she can't be too distrustful in general, despite the prophecies.

Realizes that the Stormcrows switching allegiances will guarantee that the Yunkish are overwhelmed.

Is more morally flexible concerning the sellswords than one might expect from a traditional hero(ine) fighting against slavery.

Beginning of the chapter

ASOS Daenerys IV is set in motion here:

Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but Dany wanted to see for herself. Ser Jorah Mormont rode with her through a birchwood forest and up a slanting sandstone ridge. “Near enough,” he warned her at the crest.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

Even though her Dothraki scouts had already done so, Dany wants to apply Barristan's teachings and assess the enemy forces by herself. She estimates five thousand, which Jorah considers to be a fair guess. I would also note that, while it's not explicitly acknowledged that Dany would know how to describe the terrain the way the narrative does (in the parts in bold above), she is still sufficiently aware of it to concoct a successful outline of where each of her forces should strike the Yunkish later, as we'll see below.

Jorah notes where each sellsword company is positioned and Dany realizes that the Yunkai'i are located in the center. She asks if they lead slave soldiers and the knight confirms that they do, but they aren't equal of Unsullied. Jorah thinks they can "easily" defeat their army, but Yunkai has been forewarned, so any fight might result in more casualties than Dany is willing to accept.

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered.

First, here we see Dany using the knowledge she acquired from living with the Dothraki to make a more precise assessment of how her forces might fare against her enemies.

Second, I've seen Dany be criticized before for "breaking" her word with the slavers ... You know, these people who think selling other people is acceptable. This little fact already makes this criticism a moot point at best and slavery apologia at worst, but even then ...

Let's not forget that thinking Dany was "breaking" her word with the slavers means accepting that slavery is valid and that they have the right to sell other human beings.

Let's not forget that Dany's fear that too many of her freedmen will die is what leads her to decide to attack Yunkai and the sellswords when they don't expect it, as the passage above shows.

Let's not forget how awfully we see the Yunkai'i treating their slaves in Tyrion's chapters.

Let's remember all of this.

So, with these considerations in mind, Dany decides:

“The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

Jorah thinks they might refuse the invitation, but Dany is quite certain that they won't:

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.”

I have no doubt that the previous reactions of the Qartheen and the Astapori to her dragons are informing her attitude here.

Negotiation talks

On my rereads, I've noticed that the negotiation talks in ASOS Daenerys IV are actually quite formulaic: a) the commander/envoy underestimate and/or insult Dany, b) Dany shows self-assurance and/or makes a threat and c) Dany makes a proposal only to be rebuked. So, instead of analyzing dialogue by dialogue chronologically, I think it's more interesting to display these patterns and focus on Dany's voice to highlight her rhetorical skills.

With both the Stormcrows and the Second Sons, Dany points out their blatant military disadvantages while embracing her youth and ignorance (because otherwise they will use these factors to hold her in low regard) and pretending to underestimate herself (because to do so right away means to undermine their propensity to do that):

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.”

~

“It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.”

The captain of the Stormcrows, Prendahl na Ghezn, is adamant that they don't stand alone, for they have the support of both the Second Sons and "the stalwart men of Yunkai". Dany questions if the Second Sons will stay by their side with such poor odds, but Prendahl doesn't flinch. Misogyny undoubtedly plays a part in his reaction, but there's also the fact that, as Jorah later told her, "[l]ikely he had kin in Astapor".

The captain of the Second Sons, Mero, doesn't even bother offering counterarguments. In his mind, since the Second Sons won battles with worse odds and have him as a leader, of course it will be easy to win against a "little girl".

With both Prendahl and Mero, Dany applies her historical knowledge to support her case:

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

~

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

The first passage, in particular, is often quoted by fans, and rightfully so. All of the three men with whom Dany negotiates try to underestimate her on behalf of her gender and/or by sexualizing/slut-shaming her. It speaks volumes that Dany is able to maintain her self-composure and offer such an excellent comeback. She knows what happened to the last man who dismissed her as "an ignorant whore", after all.

In fact, that's not the only rebut that Dany makes for being reduced to her sexuality. Mero's misogyny is particularly insiduous for pretending to be flatterous while he's actually both underestimating her authority and sexually harassing her. That's why her responses to him are more threatening than to the others:

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.”

~

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

~

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The last example is particularly noteworthy. In Game of Thrones, the writers have show!Dany tell her advisor to kill Mero first after he is gone. In the books, however, Mero tries to paint himself as the one that gives his soldiers determination to fight only to be undermined by Dany, who simply asks Jorah to kill him first. As we can see, Dany acts like a boss here and undercuts her enemies' misogyny multiple times.

Then we get to the proposals she makes to each man she interacts with.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Stormcrows:

“Once battle is joined, do not think to ask for quarter. Join me now, however, and you shall keep the gold the Yunkaii paid you and claim a share of the plunder besides, with greater rewards later when I come into my kingdom. Fight for the Wise Masters, and your wages will be death. Do you imagine that Yunkai will open its gates when my Unsullied are butchering you beneath the walls?”

[...] “Tell me this—are the Stormcrows slave or free?”

“We are a brotherhood of free men,” Sallor declared.

“Good.” Dany stood. “Go back and tell your brothers what I said, then. It may be that some of them would sooner sup on gold and glory than on death. I shall want your answer on the morrow.”

Later, Dany's assumption will be validated: Daario Naharis will rather "sup on gold and glory" rather than be killed alongside his commanders. I'll get to him later.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Second Sons:

“Then stay, and fight for me. [...] Coins can be returned,” she said. “I will pay you as much and more. I have other cities to conquer, and a whole kingdom awaiting me half a world away. Serve me faithfully, and the Second Sons need never seek hire again.”

[...] “Can I have a flagon of this fine wine to take back to my captains?”

“You may have a tun. It is from the cellars of the Good Masters of Astapor, and I have wagons full of it.”

“Then give me a wagon. A token of your good regard.”

“You have a big thirst.”

“I am big all over. And I have many brothers. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone, Khaleesi.”

“A wagon it is, if you promise to drink to my health.”

“Done!”

If Mero had been more thoughtful and less dismissive of Dany (who had already conquered a city and freed thousands of Unsullied at this point), perhaps he would have considered that she might have used their inebriation to her favor (she did deceive the Astapori, after all, even if she was righteous in doing so). Perhaps he wouldn't have asked for an entire wagon himself if he had taken her seriously as a threat. If she were a man, I'm sure he would have been more cautious.

Finally, this is her proposal for the Yunkish envoy:

“I have a gift for you as well.” She slammed the chest shut. “Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters’ possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?”

This moment makes it clear that Dany is doing what she is doing for no other reason than to end slavery in Yunkai.

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

She could have taken other chests from the city like she suggests she might do, but she promises instead that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered" (and that will bite her in the ass later in ADWD).

The only thing she requires is that the former slaves are "allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions" and that they are given "food, clothing, coin and goods". Doing this simply doesn't benefit her in any way.

However, the envoy calls Dany mad when he hears her terms, so she has her dragons burn his tokar. It's a moment that GRRM wishes had been included in the TV show, probably because it has ramifications later in ADWD (namely when Dany is trying to make peace with the Yunkish and they won't trust her word for that reason). 

Battle plans

I recently came across a good meta analyzing the Battle of Yunkai from a military standpoint. I will juxtapose certain excerpts (adapted as bullet lists) from that meta with passages showing Dany's actions and statements in the books to emphasize how capable a leader Dany is becoming:

“An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?”


“To mount our attack.”


Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

~

1. We know that Dany had limited knowledge about warfare (after all, she's only a 14-15 year old girl), but nonetheless she outlined a rough tactical plan which her captains did not hesitate to accept.

2. She used terms such as 'left', 'right' and 'center', which suggest that her outline was based on the assumption that the enemy forces would be arrayed in some kind of linear formation. It also implies that she's familiar with the local terrain and topography. Because if the enemy camp had been protected by natural obstacles (by the coast, a mountain or a river for example), Dany's outline would not make any sense and her captains would certainly have told her so.

3. She also seems to realize her own limitations when it comes to warfare and that the implementation of military operations are better left over to her experienced captains.

4. Dany's plan made common sense and the battle turned out to be a success: The basic idea behind her plan was to let the heavy mass of Unsullied handle the sellswords on the flanks, while the Dothraki attacked the fragile slave soldiers. She deceived her foes, took the initiative, exploited her numerical superiority and took them by surprise.

5. But her plan involved certain calculated risks: Trying to direct a battle involving thousands of men at night can be very difficult, it can easily turn into a mess, and the danger of sudden panic is always present. That is probably why her armed freedmen were held back: Their lack of discipline and lack of fighting skills could easily backfire. The Unsullied, on the other hand, were very disciplined and they were also trained in night-maneuvers. (x)

As we can see, Dany's plan shows that she knows: a) the Yunkish forces' tactical formation, b) the basic topography of the area and c) her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning"). Even more importantly, as the reviewer acknowledges, her captains accept her plan without any objections. This is commendable, considering that it comes from someone who lacks both experience and knowledge.

This quote is also relevant:

It took an hour to work out all the details. Now begins the most dangerous time, Dany thought as her captains departed to their commands. She could only pray that the gloom of the night would hide her preparations from the foe.

To which extent Dany participated or gave feedback in the discussion above is unknown, but we can conclusively say that she at least listened to which military operations her captains would later implement to take the city, which highlights her desire to acquire more knowledge. In fact, I would argue that the author chose not to give attention to this hour of planning because he would rather focus on Dany's outline (and character development). GRRM takes great pains to give Dany agency, portray her as a competent leader and challenge the notion that she is only a young girl who doesn't know the ways of war.

Then, something unexpected happens (though, as I said above, Dany had already considered that this might have happened, even if not 100% seriously): Daario is captured by the Unsullied and unexpectedly declares that the Stormcrows are now on Dany's side. @rainhadaenerys already explained why Dany's trust in Daario does not make her stupid for a few reasons that I'll sum up here: a) he had already betrayed the other captains and would gain nothing doing the same to her; b) having him and his 500 men on her side would guarantee that the Yunkish would be overwhelmed; c) because, despite the prophecies concerning the treasons, she knows that she must trust other people, especially since no one's loyalties are certain. I would also want to add that she makes several considerations before accepting Daario on her side:

“The Unsullied caught one of the sellswords trying to sneak into the camp.”

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

~

Dany was dubious. If this Tyroshi had come to spy, this declaration might be no more than a desperate plot to save his head.

This is not the reasoning of someone who can be considered "reckless" or "stupid", but who is rather aware of possible negative implications. However, she also proves to be flexible soon afterwards: if Daario killed the other commanders and the dragons trust him, accepting his allegiance seems worth the risk (and it pays off). Anyone who dismisses her for being "shallow" here has a shallow reading of the text themselves. He's handsome, but that's just a bonus.

In fact, there's a Doylist reason why we shouldn't criticize Dany for accepting Daario - doing so would mean validating Jorah's opinion, which is not a good look. Even worse, doing so would mean undermining this powerful and more than earned moment.

Aftermath

Things go pretty much exactly the way Dany had planned and expected:

“Your Grace, I bring you victory. The Stormcrows turned their cloaks, the slaves broke, and the Second Sons were too drunk to fight, just as you said. Two hundred dead, Yunkai’i for the most part. Their slaves threw down their spears and ran, and their sellswords yielded. We have several thousand captives.”

And, as more proof (if that was even needed) that Dany was concerned for the number of freedmen that would end up as casualties when she decided to attack the Yunkish when they didn't expect it:

“Our own losses?”


“A dozen. If that many.”

Only then did she allow herself to smile.

I won't comment much on the mhysa scene because it doesn't really concern Dany's decision-making. I will say, though, that their reaction shows that they are grateful for her actions (see above, again, how the slaves are treated in Tyrion's chapters) and that it highlights, once again, the righteousness of Dany's cause.

(I've already written about what mhysa means for Dany here and here. Also, because this scene is understandably controversial ... here and here you can find good posts about the racism in the writing of Dany's storyline as a whole in a way that doesn't mischaracterize her.)

How Dany assesses the advice she receives

I'm putting this section in the end because there are only two moments (and one goes beyond the scope of this post) in which Dany receives advice in this chapter. This makes sense: as I said, despite Dany's limitations due to age and experience, GRRM really wanted to highlight how influential she was on the outcome of the battle.  

The one moment that we see Dany getting advice is after she meets with the Stormcrows and the Second Sons. Both Barristan and Jorah agree that she is probably not going to get their support - Mero is treacherous and Prendahl had family amongst the Astapori. There isn't much she can do but accept their warning, but I find this line interesting:

“It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse.[”]

Dany is a traditional hero(ine) in so many ways, so it would be easier to portray her as someone who is unambiguously and plainly wary of the sellswords' lack of morals. However, moments like this and the one later in ADWD Daenerys VIII when she finds that being "dishonorable and greedy" can be advantageous if she wants the sellswords to turn to her side show that Dany is actually quite down-to-earth and flexible and doesn't suffer from moral righteousness like some think. In fact, if Dany had that problem, I'm not sure she would have thought that deceiving the slave masters (justified as that was) and revolting against an entire economic system would be okay; it's more likely that she would have had Barristan's attitude instead (i.e., leaving the region behind while feeling empathy but doing nothing about it). It's also a little detail that shows how GRRM maintains her characterization consistent, for it would be easy to forget that aspect of Dany by the time he got to writing ADWD.

(Of course, it's not so simple as to say that she's okay with their immorality. She is suspicious of them - we see with Daario that she doesn't fully trust him nor reacted well to that advice to kill all the masters in the Temple of the Graces.)

[may8344]

The Journey of a Forgotten Soldier (Levi x OC)

Finally, I’ll now be caught up with this fanfiction on Tumblr, Wattpad, and AO3. Updates are still going (try) to be on Thursday at 6pm CT. 

Relationships:

Alana Frey (OC)Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Original Female Character(s)Levi Ackerman/Alana FreyFurlan Church/Original Character(s)Furlan Church/Alana Frey

Characters:

Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)Furlan ChurchIsabel MagnoliaAlana Frey (OC) - CharacterErwin SmithHange ZoëPetra RalGunther SchultzEld JinnOluo BozadoKeith ShadisSpecial Operations Squad | Squad Levi

Additional Tags:

Graphic Description of CorpsesBlood and InjuryViolenceMurder

Summary:

Alana Frey, a girl born in the Underground City, longed to see the true sunlight every morning that she would wake up. Alongside her comrades: Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, and Levi, Alana’s life as a thug continued with no way around it; until the sudden day she and her companions were offered the deal of a lifetime.

“Once you complete this job, not only will you be generously compensated for your work,

but you will also earn the right to live above ground.”

Word Count: 2.2k

CHAPTER 5: The Survey Corps 

A couple of weeks prior to the quartet’s capturing, an important meeting had taken place. Erwin Smith was accompanied by the Commander of the Survey Corps, Keith Shadies, and the Supreme Commander of the three military branches, Darius Zackly, who sat at his desk.

“I cannot accept that!” Kieth yelled in disagreement at Zackly. However, he paused, discouraged by the look he earned from the Supreme Commander. “Sir, have you looked at the proposal I sent you? If it’s put into practice, we should be able to drastically reduce the number of Survey Corps deaths outside the Walls.”

In a low, grumbling voice, Zackly lightly touched the packet of papers that sat on the wooden desk in front of him. The papers had contained a whole new proposition for the regiment. “Commander… Keith Shadis. Of course I’ve reviewed your request.” His gaze made its way to the younger blond who stood further back. “This ‘long distance enemy scouting formation.’ I hear you developed it, Erwin.” 

“Yes sir.”

“It’s ingenious. I mean that sincerely.” He put a hand to his chin in thought, his finger’s ruffling his gray beard. “On previous expeditions, the corps focused entirely on how to defeat the Titans it encountered. But your proposal puts greater emphasis on how to reduce the number of Titan encounters. This totally original thinking is most admirable.”

“I am honored that you would say so, sir.”

Humanity lived inside of three fifty meter tall, concentric, stone walls: Wall Maria, Wall Rose, and Wall Sina. On the outside of their protection, monsters known as Titan’s roamed around, eating any human in sight. They ranged from three to fifteen meters tall and mostly resemble humans but with... deformities. Most walk on two feet, and some on all fours.

Three Regiments were created in order to keep humanity alive. The Garrison Regiment is the group that maintains and patrols the Walls. If there were to be any emergency, they would help evacuate the citizens to a safer area. Their badge bore two red roses. 

The second is the Military Police Regiment. They keep order within the Walls and dedicate themselves to protect the King or Queen. Only the top ten training cadets get the option to join them. Despite having the best recruits, they are often known as corrupt and incompentent due to them staying deep within the Walls and far from the dangerous Titans.

Finally, there is the Scouting Regiment. This division is tasked with reclaiming the treacherous land beyond their outer wall, Wall Maria. Despite being very well trained, they suffer many losses and poor results in their reclamation. More often than not, they are under the constant threat of being disbanded by the government. 

“If we use conventional formations together with this new formation… we should be able to embark on even further-ranging expeditions with fewer casualties.”

The brown haired Commander spoke once more, “General. If you understand it, then why…”

“I can’t get approval of the council.” He replied bluntly. “For a long time, many members have opposed continuing the expeditions beyond the Walls. In the past, I’ve managed to persuade them to provide funding. But now, even the public doesn’t particularly believe in sending you beyond the Walls.”

“Of course. We know that.”

“Now I have Councilman Lovof demanding the outright dissolution of the Corps. He has great influence even in the house of peers, and has a lot of cronies who sympathize with him.”

Commander Shadis began to raise his voice. “But, sir! If we stop here, all of our sacrifices up till now will be in vain! If we use Erwin’s formation, we’re sure to-”

“Keith. Please understand.”

Erwin spoke out, his voice calm and collected, “Have they already decided to suspend our activities?”

Zackly sighed as he stood from his chair. Peering outside of the window, he responded quietly. “The council won’t vote on it for another five days, but… there’s probably no way to stop it.”

“Understood, sir.”

Commander Shadis and Erwin retreated from Zackly’s office and into the horse-drawn carriage awaiting them outside. The men sat across from each other on the nicely cushioned seats. Light clomping from horses could be heard from the outside as they began moving towards their next destination.

After a bit of silence, Erwin spoke up, “It was just as you suspected, Commander.”

“...Yes. So the leader of the dissolution faction really is Nicholas Lovof...”

“According to the information I’ve gathered, Lovof has connections to the Lang Company which is delivering goods to the Military Police Brigade. He must be hoping to redirect the funds that will be freed up by suspending our expeditions.”

“Is your information reliable?” Commander Shadis questioned, shocked by the details.

“Lovof sent someone to infiltrate the Survey Corps and report on it from the inside. That spy is our source. I believe the information is highly credible.”

“And if that’s true, what do we do about it? Do we appeal to the Commander in Chief? I think that, to some extent, General Zackly is already aware of it.”

“It’s likely that there are circumstances preventing him from going public.”

Their driver slowed the horses to a stop as he hopped off of his seat and made his way to the door of the vehicle. Disrupting the two soldiers’ conversation, he opened the door and notified them that they had reached their destination. “We’ve arrived, sirs.”

Commander Shadis gave him a nod, but sighed at Erwin. “I see. I’m useless with these political intrigues.” He began to step out of the carriage, but stopped as the blond called out to him.

“Sir, would you leave this matter to me?”

“What’ll you do?” Commander Shadis turned his head over his shoulder, intrigued by the sudden request.

“I have a few ideas.”

“Ideas?” Shadis continued to walk out of the carriage.

“Even if you did have contacts in the nobility, they’re not the type to be convinced by words alone.”

“You can’t mean… Lovof himself?”

“Sir. Please don’t ask me any more than that. All of these decisions must be mine alone.”

“Erwin… you’re planning to use some shady method to force Lovof to change his position, aren’t you? Even if it is for the sake of the expeditions beyond the Walls, for a young man like you to…,” He paused, worried thoughts filling his mind for his subordinate, “The palace is a bed of vipers. Do you have a way to get out in one piece?”

“Sir.” Erwin stood up, standing in the doorway of the carriage. One of his hands held onto the side and his foot rested on the small running board. His face was stern and determined. “When I entered the Survey Corps and fought the Titans face-to-face, I learned exactly how perilous humanity’s situation really is. Wealth, authority, lofty ideals. If the Titans make it inside of the Walls, all of them will disappear in an instant.” His voice suddenly rose, “And that is why… no matter what four means we must use, we can never abandon our efforts to take this world back from the Titans. Come what may!”

The commander stared at Erwin in shock and his thoughts were scattered. It took him a moment to decide what would be the best course of action. “...very well. I will leave it all to you. No matter what, we must hold onto our hope for the future.”

“Yes, sir. And at the council meeting five days from now, we will lose the first arrow in that fight.”

Days later, both Keith Shadies and Erwin Smith were called to Darius Zackly’s office once again. The older Supreme Commander readjusted his round glasses as his eyes focused on Shadis. “It passed. I never would have imagined that Councilman Lovof would change his mind. Keith, do you have any idea why he did?”

“No, sir, not personally.”

Zackly eyed him with suspicion before turning towards Erwin. “I see. There are still many voices calling for dissolution. This time, you got the go-ahead, but I can’t guarantee there will be a next time. You’ll have to produce significant results this term if you want to change the situation.”

“Yes, sir! We’ll do our utmost!” Both Scouts declared.

“General,” Erwin added, “what about the matter we asked about the other day?”

“Hm? Oh. You mean the plan for the underground operation? I passed it along to the Military Police.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But, Erwin, no matter how good they may be with Omni-Directional Maneuvering Gear, are you sure street thugs will be of any use outside the Walls?”

“Sir, I happened to see them with my own eyes recently. I believe their skill cannot be overestimated. The man who seems to be their leader, in particular, is on a level beyond even that of even a Survey Corps veteran.”

“Is that so? Remarkable.”

“I intend to make use of anyone who has even the smallest potential during this expedition. But first while I’m close by, I plan to make contact.”

[~]

“This is humiliating, plain and simple!” A voice boomed as his fist slammed against a table.

Deep within the capital city of Mitras, securely within Wall Sina, an important meeting was held. Five figures sat at the wooden table inside an older, rundown building shaped like a castle. Each person wore a military uniform with the Survey Corps' badge attached to both shoulders and the front left pocket of their brown jacket. Both Erwin Smith and Keith Shadies were in attendance.

The angered Captain continued his ranting as he turned to Commander Shadis. “Are you honestly telling us to accept criminals into our fold when we’ve always held dutifulness in the highest regard!? The morale of the men will plummet if we allow those bottom feeders to join the ranks!”

“I agree with Flagon,” another admitted. “And to suggest we take these criminals with us on the next reconnaissance mission…”

“I understand your concerns. But I can personally vouch for their ODM Gear skills,” Erwin said, staying calm and collected as always.

Their Commander was the one who had the final decision on the matter. He was a man in his later years, amber eyes sunken in, with wrinkles and a receding hairline. He was positioned at the end of the table with his arms strongly crossed. “The new formation that Erwin has been working on is ground-breaking. It takes the emphasis away from how best to kill Titans, and places it firmly on how best to avoid them. I believe it’ll greatly reduce the number of casualties we sustain.”

Continuing his argument, Erwin spoke up, “This formation is likely to become accepted as the norm for our forces.”

“What those cretins lack are discipline and manners. It shouldn’t take too long to drill it into their skulls. They seem to have brains in their heads. Right, Erwin?”

“Correct.”

Coming to a conclusion, Commander Shadis stood from his chair. “Meeting adjourned.”

[~]

“Attention!”

The clattering of boots rang through the air in response. About fifty military soldiers were each lined up in an orderly fashion of rows awaiting commands. 

Commander Shadis’ deep, authoritative voice rose as he continued. “Starting today, these four will be fighting alongside all of you! Introduce yourselves!”

Isabel, Levi, Furlan, and Alana each were dressed in a military uniform as they stood in front of the soldiers on a pedestal type area. However, Levi wore a white cravat around his neck.

“Name’s Levi.” Levi had his arms crossed and spoke with complete indifference. He wanted absolutely nothing to do being here, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. This act caught the eyes of almost every soldier and they stared in disbelief at his disrespect.

“Levi, the first thing you need to learn is some goddamn discipline.” Shadis responded in annoyance. “Next!”

Isabel proudly stepped up, head held high. With a solid voice and her thumb pointing towards her, she spoke, “I’m Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meet ya!”

“My name is Furlan Church.” Furlan introduced himself with a saluted fist on his chest, palm facing down. His eager smile lined his face, and then he turned to Alana who was beside him. 

Unlike her friends, Alana lowered her chin as she cowered away and her left hand gripped onto the charm on her necklace. Strangely enough, the girl was afraid of the crowd. With a soft, welcoming nudge from the blond, she mumbled. “Alana… Frey.”

“Speak up, soldier!”

She raised her voice and repeated herself. “I’m Alana Frey!”

“Flagon, these three will be assigned to your squad. Look after them.”

“M-My squad, sir?” Flagon, the dirty blond haired captain, looked up to his superior in shock. Just earlier that day, he had been arguing the idea of having them here in the first place.

“Any objections?

“N-No… But shouldn’t Erwin…”

Shadis cut him off immediately. “Erwin is tasked with overseeing all the soldiers. The new recruits will be your responsibility. Is that understood?”

Flagon quickly saluted his commander; right fist on his chest, palm upwards, and the other behind his back. It was the sign of ‘devoting your hearts’. “Yes, sir! Understood!” Even with his words, it was clear that he was uneasy about all of this. 

Especially under Levi’s glare.

---

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 

[ghostmartyr]

I haven't read many of your metas or replies so I'm sorry if this has been discussed ad nauseam, but a lot (and I mean A LOT) of readers are saying that this genuinely was the only choice Eren could have made here. I personally think that's a crock of shit, there are a million things you try before jumping to global genocide, but I feel like that is genuinely what EREN believes and that's the narrative perspective we've been given so it's hard to conceive of alternatives (cont.)

           (cont.) from our limited vantage point (which is also a criticism on my part of how Eren has handled this, I mean think of all the shit Hange could have preempted if she knew what Eren knew through Paths/memories - screaming "if there's another way then tell me what it is!" to someone you've actively kept in the dark is a dick move any day of the week). In your opinion, what do you think could or should have been Paradis' alternatives that maybe we're just not seeing as readers?             

If your only option is genocide, you have no options.

That is the only place where I feel like Eren’s actions become understandable. Powerlessness when you should be the most powerful person on the face of the planet is one hell of a trip, and descending into a place where the world is so awful that it should just burn--

Yeah, I get that.

Only that isn’t how Eren’s coming across. I buy that whatever he’s doing, he believes it’s his final option, but his commitment to genocide rings false.

...Getting to the actual question, though, uh.

Start at Not This, then arrange the list from there.

I am not good at this kind of thing, so glaring obliviousness likely to follow.

I think if I were writing this story, sending out scouts to search for allies is a fine start. I also think that Willy announcing to the world that Karl Fritz sought peace is exactly where Eren should have called his murder spree off. Willy is the closest to beloved an Eldian can get in the outside world. He is a good mouthpiece for their suffering.

Paradis could have easily worked with that. Marley declares war, and instead of responding with violence, you have the person he’s pinning all the blame on show up, and tell him to fuck off, they don’t want death either.

As much as the outside world has learned to hate the island, they don’t like Marley either.

Paradis has the means to get their people in and out of Liberio; they could have silently abducted Zeke, giving them the means to activate the walls, and made their intent for peace public.

This would be the Come At Me Bro plan.

Willy says he wants more sympathy for Eldians? Cool. Paradis backs that. But hey that guy you’re saying stole the King’s power? Not how that went down. Also, Marley went on a secret mission trying to steal our island’s resources, and we find that upsetting.

Then--and this is important--no one kills anyone.

The world has just played witness to Marley declaring war on yet another people who want them to fuck off, and had the revelation that Marley already began this war years ago, without the island seeking their rightful retaliation.

Have Eren transform in front of everyone, and attack no one. Have him escort one key official from the island, deliver a signed statement with the Queen’s seal asking for peace to a reporter, and get out. Have Armin blocking off the bay.

Make a massive show of force after Willy declares war, and make it even clearer that Marley is beneath them. Use Titans to drive the point home further; Marley has done nothing but viciously attack surrounding nations with their Titans. Paradis brings theirs, and it’s the first time in decades anyone’s seen one without bloodshed following.

And if anyone tries to start something, wake up the walls, but keep them still.

Let the first message in a hundred years be that yes, the island is just as powerful and as threatening as you’ve all been told--and until you give us a reason to attack, we won’t.

Want some iceburst rock?

This gives the countries of the world some concerns. A new player is in town. All their worst nightmares might come true.

But Paradis has resources, and they have power.

Whatever results, there’s no guarantee of the rest of the world uniting to demolish the island. They’ve been happy to let it sit for over a hundred years. It’s been a political tool, not an entity anyone save for Marley cares about.

There would be discussion. With one Colossus having already made an appearance, nearby countries have to worry about more. There could be no united front against the island. Everyone would be aware that everyone else could decide to take a chance on the newcomers. They’d have to consider the possibility themselves.

They’d have to consider that there could be advantages.

The longer the debate goes on, the longer Paradis proves its lack of interest in starting wars. Marley is the only country champing at the bit to go after them, and Marley has burned most of its bridges with its warmongering. Allying with Paradis could mean turning the vile Titan force against Marley for once. Especially with Paradis so emphatically displeased at their past acts of terrorism; there’s no need to fear the two Titan superpowers teaming up.

Even if they’re not sure they have access to the rumbling, the bluff holds up. No one wants to antagonize the island. In canon, the island comes antagonizing the rest of the world, so the rest of the world realizes it’s time to get rid of it. In this make believe world, these countries are being presented with the choice of going after an island full of thousands of titans that could easily destroy the entire world--when so far, everything’s been chill.

Additionally, Paradis could make a blanket offer to take in all Eldian refugees. Most countries don’t want them. Paradis has a lot of land they’re not using, and the offer of a home where these people won’t face prejudice. There are already movements to protect subjects of Ymir. Paradis can do that.

That carries the risk of people accusing them of amassing strength, but really, what more do they need? They have the rumbling. A few extra bodies are meaningless.

Flying ships for spectating the walls are a thing. Invite reporters up in them and give them a tour.

Become known.

It would still take a long time, and the complications are endless, but that’s international policy for you.

The key would be to make a clear message; “We don’t want to fight, and if we did fight, we would win. Every time.”

AKA, “Don’t fuck with us.”

That’s worked for a hundred years without reinforcement.

Heck, if Willy and Zeke hadn’t pushed for another stab at the island, maybe it would have worked for another hundred.

Eren takes the world hating them as the stopping point. It needed to be a starting point, however they played it.

Again, I’m bad at this stuff, but Eren leaves after one international meeting.

Yeah, a hundred years of scapegoating is a lot to contend with, but it’s also been a hundred years of no one from the island complaining. Get in there and work with it.

Then if that still doesn’t work, you die trying to find something that does.

Something not genocide for once, given that every single problem in this world has been caused by genocide.

Thanks for the ask--and no, I don’t think this has come up much yet. You got in before the inevitable rush.

[lunarhold]

─ pairing: iceburg/reader ─ au: witch ─ warnings: smut, angst ─ words: 12.9k

❣ summary: an island appears off the coast of water 7 and if he’s not careful, iceburg might find more than he bargained for

↔ a/n: this character isn’t very popular so i don’t expect a lot of attention, but i love him and wanted to post it anyway

“Iceburg, Iceburg!” The shouting of his name was accompanied by frantic banging on his office door. Iceburg looked up from the massive stack of paperwork on his desk towards the ruckus. He had been avoiding it for the better part of a week, much to Kalifa’s annoyance. Things had finally grown to the point where it couldn’t be ignored anymore, so he had been forced to buckle down on it.

Now, though, he had a new distraction.

“This sounds terribly important, Kalifa,” he said, and before she could open her mouth to argue, he had called them in.

The door flew open and two men-- from Dock 6, if he recalled correctly-- tumbled in. “Iceburg, you have to come quick. An island appeared.”

Well, that wasn’t what he expected to hear.

“An island, you say? Well, you had better show me,” he said, standing up from his chair. It had now become more than wanting to get out of work. How does an island just appear out of thin air? He didn’t doubt what his workers were saying, but he certainly had to see it for himself.

Along the way, the Dock 1 foremen joined up with them, wearing their usual scowls. The Dock 6 men must have passed along the message in order to get up to see him more quickly, and the foremen had taken it upon themselves to accompany him. They were no doubt the best option for the job anyway.

A crowd of citizens had gathered at Dock 6, all clamoring for a glimpse of this mysterious island. As Iceburg and the foremen approached, though, attention diverted to them. They were pelted with the usual praise, and questions about the island they couldn’t possibly know the answers to.

The crowd parted for them, until Iceburg stood at the gate and turned back to face them.

“My foremen and I intend to fully investigate this mysterious phenomenon, and will return with news shortly. Until then, I would ask you all to remain here where it’s safe while we determine the danger this island poses,” he called out, hoping to settle them down. While it was odd to speculate that the island itself could be a danger, it stood to reason that there was something wrong with it, and it wouldn’t do them any good to have a bunch of curious people wandering around while they were trying to scout. There was general acceptance, and calls of good luck, and he turned back to the massive gates of Dock 6, his thoughts already miles away.

You knew, from the moment your island had settled into the other plane, that this time was going to be different. In your usual custom, you had gone to the top of the highest tree, having long ago built your own sort of crow’s nest, to see if you had appeared near any type of civilization. It was much quicker than hiking to the nearest shore, to be sure. 

This time, though, you had appeared just a few miles off the coast of a stunning city. A sense of melancholy filled you as you watched the shimmering waterfalls pouring down from a massive fountain at the top. You enjoyed your solitude and had no interest in the throngs of noisy, pushing people that no doubt inhabited the island, but you couldn’t help longing to see it. But you supposed someone from the island would come investigate, and maybe they could be of some help.

As if you had summoned them, there was a ripple across the island as a group of people crossed the magical barrier surrounding the island. Your heart leaped into your throat as you scurried to the ground and half ran towards the beach they had landed on.

Optimism was tempered by caution; there was no guarantee they would be friendly. It wouldn’t be the first time you had had to defend yourself from dangerous people.

Still, it had been so long since you had seen any other people, you were more than willing to take the risk.

The beach came into view. From the tree cover, you could see a group of seven-- six men and a woman.

It took only a second for someone to look your way, a handsome man with long, curly hair. Even though you swore he couldn’t see you, it still seemed like he pinned you with a blank stare. The hairs rose on the back of your neck as a blond man also turned to look in your direction, though you never saw the handsome man’s mouth move.

In the blink of an eye, ropes were wrapped around you, binding your arms and legs and dragging you from your cover. Panic flared, your magic reacting in an instant. Blue flames leaped from your skin, licking up the length of the rope.

You were free in seconds and gone in less.

Iceburg turned to watch the debacle, sighing as you ran off.

“Paulie, that wasn’t necessary,” he said, walking towards where you had been hiding. There was absolutely nothing there to indicate you had been there in the first place, let alone where you had gone. The foliage was pristine, the grass not even crushed underfoot, like you were a ghost.

“Did you see that though?” Paulie asked, coming up next to him. Iceburg could see the sweat beaded on his brow, and the fear in his voice told him it wasn’t just the heat getting to him. “She lit on fire, her whole body. That ain’t normal.” He held up his ropes, showing the singed, frayed ends off. “She’s not human, a witch or something.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Iceburg said, turning back to face the larger group. “Let’s carry on.”

Hours passed by, and they had encountered nothing but animals. Most of them were harmless, but they had run into several extremely aggressive predators. All so far had been far larger than normal and, while they were no problem for them, the citizens would stand no chance.

“Well,” Iceburg said, surveying the large tiger they had just dispatched, “I think it would be best to put the island under quarantine until we get a handle on these predators. Also, that woman…” He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. You would likely be the best bet to finding out about the island.

“Yeah, she probably has something to do with this, and these animals attacking. We should go find her,” Paulie said, snapping a length of rope in his hands. He scoured the trees around him, eyes lingering on every leaf and blade of grass that twitched in the wind.

Somehow, Iceburg didn’t agree with that assessment. If you really posed a threat, you would likely have made more effort to harm them. But they had seen nothing more strange than the animals.

“I think we should head back,” Kaku said, gripping Paulie’s shoulder. Iceburg could see in the way he looked at Paulie that he disagreed with the other foreman’s assessment, but knew it would be fruitless to argue. Once he set his mind, there was no changing it. “It’ll be dark soon, and we aren’t equipped to deal with things in the dark. 

There were more voices of agreement, and Iceburg nodded as well. “We’ll figure out what to do when we get back to headquarters. Right now, it would be pointless to continue.”

The trek back was quicker than it had been forward, making them feel as if they had made no progress. The sun was still high enough in the sky, but the island had begun to feel cold, like they were suddenly unwelcome.

Wondering if you had something to do with it, Iceburg looked around one last time. The treeline stopped some twenty feet up the beach. There was no gentle transition from sand to woods, it was just one and then suddenly it was the other. He hoped that maybe you would come back and try one last time to greet them, but there was nothing more than the gentle swaying of trees in the wind.

Unbeknownst to him, from the safety of your home, you watched the group in the glass surface of a mirror as they hacked a path through the island and back. You could feel the island was on edge, but you were fighting its compulsion to hurt them for harming it. You understood its want, but you still hoped to meet someone properly. Allowing harm to come to this group could result in something far worse. The island wasn’t indestructible.

One man in particular, the leader, it looked like, kept looking around as if he were waiting for something.

When they arrived back at the beach, his gaze kept returning to the spot you had been hidden. Taking a good look at him, you couldn’t help but wonder…

Was he wearing lipstick?

                                                          _____

Hours later, after the sun had completely disappeared and you knew the darkness would hide you, you moved your house to the beach, where you had the best view of the other island. It wasn’t the same one the men had landed on before, in case they returned in the night and caught you unawares. You didn’t know the name of the other island, but it was just as stunning in the dark as it was in the light. The whole island was lit up, casting beautiful shadows over the water, and the fountain was lit up like a beacon, the beams refracting off of it and creating the most amazing light show.

You were too far from the island to hear, but you could imagine the chatter of the crowded streets, the throngs of happy people greeting each other as they met for dinner or drinks. For the first time, you actually considered what it would be like to be in the midst of something like that. The thought didn’t stick around for long though, your natural aversion to anything social rising up to remind you of just why you were on this island in the first place.

Out of the blue, a ripple traveled over the island. Someone had landed-- just one. You hesitated, rubbing your wrists where the rope had bound you.

But there was only one, and you could disappear as easily as smoke if they proved dangerous. In fact, if you so desired, you could hide yourself the entire time that your island was in this plane. People could peer through your living room window and they would never know.

With that in mind, you cautiously made your way towards the beach where the group had landed earlier. To you, this indicated it was someone from that group, and you had a guess about who it was.

“...Hello?” a voice called, just within earshot of you. “Please come out. I want to apologize for earlier.”

You stopped at the treeline, poking your head around the trunk of a tree to assess the situation.

It was exactly who you had guess, the blue-haired leader. A small boat sat partially in the water behind him, too small to hide anyone to spring a trap. His hands were held out, palms up to show they were empty.

Biting your lip, you cautiously revealed yourself to him, watching for anything suspicious. You could feel the island pulling its own magic up, creating a shroud around you. It recognized the man from earlier too-- as a threat.

As you stepped into the light, Iceburg’s eyes widened, his hands falling to his sides. He took a step forward, and you took one back in response, so he paused, allowing you to approach at your own pace. He could see you were on edge, watching him with sharp eyes. He wanted to call out, to tell you he was unarmed and not going to hurt you, but he knew you had no reason to believe him. He had made the decision shortly after landing back at Water 7 to return, alone, to see if he could find you. He had no doubts that you would remain hidden if he returned with the others, especially Paulie, and felt he was in no danger from you.

At long last, you stood in front of him, shoulders tense, but you didn’t attack him, which he took as a good sign. 

“My name is Iceburg. I’m the mayor of Water 7,” he said, gesturing towards the city behind him. “I’m sorry my foreman attacked you earlier. Paulie can get a little overzealous.”

His eyes roved over your face, drinking in your sharp eyes and frown. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, hoping you would accept his apology. There was so much he wanted to ask you.

You didn’t respond for several long moments, and he could feel his hope fading away. Then you relaxed, your lips curling up at the corners ever so slightly. Your head cocked to the side, your hair falling from your shoulders, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized you were rather beautiful.

“_____,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake. When he took it, he nearly swallowed it in his. His skin was rough against yours, and you could feel numerous calluses on his fingers. You wondered what kind of work a mayor did to have hands like that. The contact was drawn out as you stared at each other, each lost in your own thoughts, until you realized it had become awkward. You pulled away, looking out across the water towards the lights to cover it up, saying, “You called it Water 7. What’s it like?”

Iceburg started, pulled from his haze and followed your gaze to the city. It was a wonder, he knew, and it wasn’t often that he got to view it from a distance, let alone at night. “It’s a city built atop a city. We build some of the greatest ships in the world here.”

You could hear the pride reflected in his voice and smiled, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He was smiling, the lights reflecting in his eyes as he watched his city.

“Well, I have so many questions,” he said, turning his whole attention to you. He was sure you had many of your own, but his curiosity was burning far too hot to be patient.

You chuckled, pressing your hand to your mouth to stifle the noise. “I bet. Can I guess what you want to ask first?” you asked, sitting down in the sand. The warm sea water came up just high enough to wash over your feet before receding. It had been a solid year since you had felt that sensation.

Iceburg followed suit, sitting as close as he could to you without touching, although you got the feeling he did that more out of consideration for you than for him. His gaze was just about burning holes in you, and you could already read more than curiosity in them. 

Instead of teasing him, you said, “Right. I would guess your first question is…’How did this island just appear here?’” 

“Correct,” he said, smiling at you. It widened when you pretended to cheer, then drew a tally in the sand. “So, what’s the answer then?”

“It’s a bit complicated,” you said, scooting away from him to create space before turning to him. You began to draw a crude picture in the sand, two circles, one large and one small, overlapping each other like a venn diagram. In the smaller one on the right, you drew an odd, squigly shape. “That one is my island. It’s in its own pocket dimension, if you can call it that, most of the time. Once every year, it jumps…” At this, you erased the shape and drew a new one in the bigger circle. “...to this one. Where it appears is entirely random.”

Iceburg studied it for a minute, pondering things he had heard from others. “I’ve heard legends, mostly from the older sailors, about islands that come and go. Could they all actually be your island?” he asked, staring at the diagram. His brain was working overtime trying to remember everything he had heard over the years. Even Tom had told stories of it. He had believed them, saying that stranger things have happened in the Grand Line, but Iceburg had always written them off as fairy tales.

“Most likely. My island doesn’t usually land near other islands. I get lucky...maybe once a decade. Sometimes, ships happen upon it in the middle of the sea. Their...log...poses?-- I think that’s what you call them-- don’t point to my island, though, so it spooks them. Most avoid landing,” you said, doodling absentmindedly in the sand. The water had washed away most of your drawing, leaving only a vague impression that anything had been there at all. It was sad, really. Even ships passing by were rare, and watching them flee was enough to make you feel more lonely than if you were to see no one at all.

“That would explain why no one can say how often it appears, and why there are ‘multiple islands’,” he said, pieces beginning to fall into place. “Now that I think about it, very few of the stories mention a witch living alone on the island, as the sole inhabitant.”

You nodded and smiled, then snapped your fingers, causing blue sparks to fly. “That’s me. There are so few with me in it because not many people know I’m there. I can count on less than ten fingers how many people I’ve met in the last decade.” You held your hands up to prove it. “You make seven.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “So few. You must be lonely. Why do you stay?” He watched your smile morph, not quite happy, but not sad. It was...content, maybe?

“I can’t leave the island. My magic binds me, trapping me here.”

“Oh,” he said, and reached out to touch your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Can you leave at all?”

The warmth of his hand radiated out, soothing you. It was doused immediately when he pulled away. You wanted to feel it again, but pushed it away. No doubt he would find it strange if you reached out to him and leave, and you most definitely wanted him to stay.

“I can,” you said, rubbing the spot his hand had been. The action was unconscious, and didn’t go unnoticed. “But the distance is small.”

Iceburg looked from you, to the island, then back to you. “Do you think…”

But you were already shaking your head, looking forlorn as you stared ahead of you. “I already know it’s too far. I think it’s on purpose, but the island has never once fallen within a distance I could leave.”

Iceburg could practically feel the disappointment radiating off you, and reached out again, grazing your hand. You jumped, but allowed him to take it, relishing the warmth.

“How long before you leave?” He asked it as if you were just on vacation.

“6 days. Always 6 days,” you said, suppressing the urge to lace your fingers through his.

He stood up, using his hold to tug you up as well. “Alright, well, since I can’t bring you to the island, I’ll bring some of the island to you. How does that sound?” he asked, leading you further down towards his boat.

He watched your face light up, and felt his heart pick up its pace again. No one had ever looked at him like that, and it made him want to see more. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, since I do have to work. Will you meet me here?”

You nodded enthusiastically, but he could see the happiness change to something darker. He covered the hand he already held with his other one, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “Don’t. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He found it harder than it should have been to release your hand, and as you grew smaller on the shore, he had to fight not to turn the boat around and return to you. He couldn’t imagine how lonely you must have been on the island all those years, but he couldn’t forego his responsibilities. Still, he would give you what he could while you were here.

                                                        _____

The announcement that the island was off limits went over about as well as Iceburg expected. The citizens were outraged, but Iceburg was firm. He hadn’t discussed with you at all about it, and wasn’t sure how you would feel having your island overrun with nosy strangers. Couple that with the oversized predators roaming the island, and it wasn’t safe. The foremen could handle it, but couldn’t be taken from their jobs to play babysitter. It would force the whole of the city to essentially shut down, which would be fiscally catastrophic for the island.

No, it was better that he make the island off limits, at least until he talked to you. He could make plans later, if you were okay with it.

He retired to his office amid boos, which was a first in all his time as mayor, but he would take it, and they would get over it. He was exhausted today, and laid down on his couch to nap. Even Kalifa, who had been nagging him to get his paperwork done all week, left him alone.

His eyes drifted shut, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

                                                          _____

You watched the city begin to light up as it got darker. Instead of leaving your house hidden, and therefore having to sit in the sand again for hours, you settled it down on the beach to wait for Iceburg. You had no doubt that he would show up. He seemed as interested in you as you were in him.

Not too long after sundown, when the lights had finally stopped turning on, you made out a shape approaching the island.

Iceburg chuckled when he saw you waving from the front porch of a house. 

Wait, a house? There hadn’t been a house there last night.

Tonight, he had brought his own personal yagara, since he knew now that it was safe to leave him floating in the water. But it snorted and began to slow the closer they got to shore, trying to resist Iceburg’s directions. That was strange for his normally docile bull, and he was just wondering if something was wrong when it suddenly surged forward, in a rush to reach the beach.

He looked up and saw you standing in the water, up over your knees, your hands turned up as if encouraging him. His suspicions were confirmed just seconds later when the bull pulled up right in front of you and headbutted you gently.

“Animals can sense the island isn’t normal. They take some coaxing,” you said, rubbing its head gently. “What is this, anyway?”

“This is a yagara bull. They’re used to move through the city,” Iceburg answered, watching you. The bull was eating up the attention, and you seemed equally as smitten.

“Why do you need to use them?” you asked, looking up at him. You couldn’t see why an island would need a water animal as the main mode of transportation. Iceburg determined that the yagara could go no further, and got out to stand in the warm water. It rose only to his shins, and he was glad he had kicked his shoes off in the boat. There were a few bags in the back seat, and when he hoisted them up in his arms, your eyes lit up with curious excitement.

Giving the yagara one last pat, you waded after him towards shore, almost bouncing in anticipation. As you ushered him towards the house, he remembered that he wanted to ask you about that.

“How is there a house here now? There wasn’t last night.” 

Your hand on his elbow stopped him, and you said, “Watch.” 

Of course he expected the answer to involve magic somehow, but more in the realm of ‘teleportation’, and not ‘bird legs underneath the foundation’. 

As quick as it rose, it settled again, looking once more like a nondescript log cabin beach house.

Iceburg was at a loss for words as he searched for any sign of the massive legs. Of course he had known you were magical, as was the island itself, but this was the first direct display of true magic he had seen so far, and the most unsettling. He did his best to hide his unease but, judging by the vaguely hurt look on your face, he hadn’t done a very good job.

“We can just stay out here, if you’d rather. I know it takes some getting used to,” you said, rocking on the balls of your feet. You couldn’t fault him; it had taken you a while to get over the shock as well.

“Well, no,” he said, shifting the bags in his hands. “It’s just different. I’d like to see it.”

The smile you gave him blew his discomfort out of the water, and he suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been bothered in the first place as he followed you up the stairs like a puppy. Inside was somehow larger than it looked like it should be but still proportional to the outside of the house, like the room was constantly in flux. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that was the case.

Surveying the living room as he crossed it revealed a lot about you, and the way you lived. There was a large portion of one wall dedicated to a bookshelf, which was overflowing to the point that a lot of the shelves were crammed full and haphazardly double-stacked. He would have to browse through and see what you liked, and if you wanted anything from the island. He wasn’t sure how often you managed to get new reading material. The rest of that wall was dedicated to potions and ingredients. Plants, both in pots and overflowing to grow up the rafters, decorated the ceiling. An empty bird perch stood next to an open window on another wall, beside a cold fireplace. There were three other closed doors, but he wasn’t rude enough to ask where they led.

The kitchen itself was rather modern, more so than he would have expected, but the counters were cluttered with an assortment of strange objects and ingredients that he had never seen before. A large plant sitting on the end counter caught his eye, its long tendrils wrapping around your arm as you passed.

You caught him staring and picked it up, moving it out of the way as you said, “It’s harmless, but does like to steal things. The leaves are tough, and can be made into twine and rope, among other things. You can set those down here.”

He did as told and placed them where the plant had previously been and began to pull things out of bags, arranging them in the limited space you had given him. He felt your arm curl around his side, your body pressing against him before you peered around him at what he was doing, an excited smile on your face. With plenty of space to either side of him for you to watch from, he could have called you out, but held his tongue. Heat still crept up his neck, though, because he found he didn’t really mind.

In his haste to collect things up and get to you, he had ordered everything on the menu at the water water stand, followed by some of the normal foods at other stands. A stop at Blueno’s bar had raised questions about whether he was throwing a party, but he brushed it off with a laugh.

The last bag was particularly special. It had been on a whim that he bought it, passing by the shop after the rest of his shopping had been done.

You felt the air shift, tension coming into his shoulders as he removed a box from the last bag. You moved around to stand beside him, eyeing it suspiciously while you waited for him to explain.

“There’s an island not too far from here that holds festivals everyday,” he said, opening the top box to reveal a stunning porcelain mask. He lifted it up and cradled it gingerly in his hands, allowing you to view it. The nose was long, the tip angled down, with intricate purple and black lacing painted from the corners of the eyes down to the chin. The lips were painted a vibrant green.

“It’s gorgeous,” you said, running a finger delicately over the paintwork. “This has something to do with the festivals?”

“Oh, well, yes. They wear masks like these, among other costumes. We have a shop that hand makes them. I wanted you to have one,” he said, smiling down at you gently. It was one of the few things special-made on the island that he could actually bring to you. A ship was just out of the question.

You took the mask from him, examining it with a softened grin for a moment, before tucking it back into the box. Then you turned back to him and, to his immense satisfaction, threw yourself into his arms. He cradled you gently to his chest, practically glowing that his gift was so well received.

“Thank you, Iceburg. I love it,” you said, trying not to cry on his shirt too much. It was the first time you could recall receiving a gift since you were human, and the nicest gift you could recall ever receiving, period.

“I’m glad you like it so much,” he said, caressing your hair.

Neither of you moved for several moments, but eventually you pulled apart. It was a mutual decision, with neither of you really wanting to.

With your face much warmer than was comfortable, you focused on the enticing smell coming from the remaining bags. “What is all this?”

“Well, I figured you probably haven't had...er…” He had almost said proper food, but felt that would be too rude. He glanced up to find you smirking, as if you knew exactly what he was thinking. Clearing his throat, he continued with, “Modern food in a while. So I brought you plenty to try.”

You laughed, patting his arm in appreciation before going for plates. The two of you settled on the couch, covering the coffee table with the numerous boxes so you wouldn’t have to get up for more. Between everything, you didn't even eat half of what he brought, but tasted everything at least once. It all tasted spectacular to you, especially the water water dishes. When you told him so, he seemed especially pleased.

“That’s a Water 7 specialty,” he said, sliding his plate onto the table. Normally, he wouldn’t be so rude, but he was so full that he couldn’t move. Judging by the satisfied expression on your face, neither could you.

“That was fantastic, Iceburg,” yo said, smiling at him. “Thank you so much.”

To your surprise, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a solid squeeze. “I told you, you’ve only got a week, so I’m going to bring Water 7 to you.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but not solely because of Iceburg’s kindness. His words were like cold water, reminding you that, soon, you would return to the solitude of your dimension. After that, it was unlikely you would ever see him again.

Which was all the more painful to think about, because you were pretty sure you were falling in love with him. 

Which was absolutely ridiculous because you had only known him for two days. Still, he had shown you more kindness than you had known in decades, even when you resided in this dimension, so maybe it wasn’t. To top it off, you had seen so few people since you took the island, that it shouldn’t have been surprising that your emotions flared up like gasoline on a fire.

Iceburg realized that he had said the wrong thing when you didn’t answer and your smile fell into a frown. You seemed to see through him, fixing an empty stare at a blank spot on the wall behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, moving closer to you and taking your other hand in his. “Is there no way to break the island's hold on you?” He didn’t have much in the way of hope, but maybe there was something he could do that you couldn't.

You were taken by surprise at his question, then realized that he had mistaken your sadness over never seeing him again as sadness over being stuck on the island. It was sweet, how upset he seemed to be on your behalf, and you felt only a little bad that you allowed him to continue to think so. The truth would be so much harder to explain.

“I wish,” you said, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. It was comforting, knowing he was willing to help you, even if it was under false pretenses. “‘Only by passing the contract on to another will you be unbound from this island’,” you said, repeating the words the witch had spoken to you before she left, leaving you alone on the island. It had been the best deal you had ever made.

Iceburg hummed, then you both fell into an uneasy silence. His brilliant mind couldn’t see anyway to get you out of it, and he already knew you would reject to submitting anyone else to this. Besides, even bringing it up would be selfish. Still, he would be a liar if he said it wasn't tempting. At least you would be free, able to stay with him. He wanted to get to know you more, show you around Water 7, and...and…

...And that was a dangerous line of thinking. Did he really want to get tangled up with someone he had so little chance of seeing again?

Once more, he had the strange feeling you could read his mind as you sat up and pinned him with an unreadable look.

Instead of giving into the screaming temptation to cup your face and claim your lips with his, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze and stood up. He caught the fleeting look of disappointment on your face before it was replaced with an understanding smile. You stood as well, and together put away the leftovers before he headed towards the door.

His yagara was waiting exactly where he had left it, and he waded out into the water.

“Thank you, Iceburg. For the mask, and the food, and...everything,” you said from behind him.

He turned to find you had stopped at the waterline, the waves barely lapping your toes. You were still wearing that sad smile, and sounded like you were saying goodbye.

But that wasn’t what this was. He wasn’t going to just leave you alone for your remaining time here, just because he was unsure of how to proceed. There was no doubt that you felt the same, but he had yet to decide what he wanted.

“You’re welcome, _____. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ve had an idea I think you’ll enjoy,” he said as he patted his bull on the head. He winked at you before climbing into the boat on its back.

You watched him disappear in the dark with a pounding heart.

                                                         _____

All the next day, you were an anxious mix of excitement and trepidation. 

Whereas yesterday you were certain he would come back, today you were almost positive he wouldn’t. You wouldn’t really blame him, if he didn’t. If you were him, you wouldn’t think twice about getting involved with someone in your position, at least not so quickly. In fact, you were on the fence about it yourself. Was it really such a good idea to kindle something that would be snuffed out in a matter of days? It was slim that you would ever see him again. Would you regret it if you let it slip by?

Hundreds of variations of those thoughts plagued you all day, only adding to the tremendous stress on your nerves.

When night finally fell, your nerves were so fried that you were tempted to pick up and leave to the other side of the island and hide out until you shifted back to your plane. But you didn’t, like you knew you wouldn’t, because that was childish and unfair, so you sat out on the porch to wait.

The lights put on their usual show, dozens blinking on at a time until the island cast a shadow on the water.

From the darkness came a shadow, and you felt like you might cry as you watched Iceburg come closer. When he got close enough that you could see him properly, you found he looked as happy to see you as you felt seeing him.

Instead of getting out of the boat, however, he gestured for you to come to him. You slowly made your way out to him, feeling the sand slip beneath your feet with the ebb and flow of the current. The water was up above your knees by the time you reached him, dangerously close to the edge of your shorts.

He held his hand out to you while trying to keep the yagara from floating too far away. “I know you said you can’t go far, but I hope you’ll allow me to get you as close as I can. I really would like for you to see it.”

You frowned, looking from him to the city, your outstretched hand suspended in midair as you deliberated. The first and last time you had attempted to leave, you had almost drowned when your new found magic had tried to strangle you, resulting in you falling into the water. It wasn’t even like you were trying to actually go anywhere, you had simply been testing the boundaries.

“If not, that’s alright too.” He had thought it was a good idea, but maybe there was something else you had neglected to tell him. “No, I want to,” you said, slipping your hand into his at last. You trusted him well enough to risk it. “Just...I have to be careful. The magic is aggressive if it thinks I’m trying to leave.”

That put Iceburg on guard. The last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. He helped you into the boat, feeling it rock ominously beneath his feet as you climbed over the side. You clung to him as the yagara turned back to the city. Just as quickly, you let go and focused on the approaching city, watching the lights grow steadily brighter, thus missing Iceburg’s frown.

But as he watched the wonder fill your face, he wasn’t too upset. Even if you grew angry at him, or left without anything more happening between you, he would never regret that he got to be the one to show you this, to see you so happy.

You turned to him, smiling and ready to say something, but then froze. Your hand came up, clutching at your chest, eyes growing wide and seeming to plead with him for help. Instead of going to you as you fell to your knees, beginning to hyperventilate from the pain, he yanked the reins on the bull, urging it to turn back to the island. He didn’t go very far; as soon as he heard your breathing ease, he stilled the yagara.

He was by your side in an instant, the small boat rocking as he knelt down beside you. One hand held yours, the other at the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles as you breathed deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, taking in your pale, scared face. It had sounded like you were choking, and it had happened in an instant. He saw now why you were so hesitant. “We’ll go back. This was a terrible idea, I’--”

He was cut off when you reached up and cupped his cheek, your skin soft against his as you pressed your thumb gently to his lips. You gave him a weak smile, but he could see that, somehow, you were happy.

“It’s not your fault. The magic has a mind of its own. This happened the last time too.” The warning the magic gave you was small, right before it slammed into effect. “I knew it would happen. And it was a wonderful idea. I didn’t think I would get anywhere near, but you did it.”

Iceburg helped you to your feet, keeping one hand around your waist in case you collapsed. You were still shaking, could still feel the flare of magic in your chest, lying in wait in case you strayed too far again.

He was relieved that you weren’t badly hurt, couldn’t imagine how he would feel if it was because of him. His arm tightened around you and, before he realized he was doing it, he pulled you close, tucking you into his side. To his relief, you didn’t pull away. He looked down, watching your fist curl into his shirt and realized that, regardless of how much he fought, he had lost the first time you smiled at him.

Keeping his hold on you, he used his free hand to steer his yagara around to face the city, then led you to sit.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, unable to contain yourself as he curled his other arm around you, effectively caging you to his chest. More than ever, you could recognize just how strong he was, what he could do if he so desired and yet he cradled you so gently. Protective, not possessive, he was warm and comforting.

You knew it was a lost cause to fight it in that moment. No matter how you thought you would feel when it came time for you to leave, it would pale in comparison to the regret of having let it pass by.

“You know, I never did ask you. I think I was too preoccupied with knowing about the island, but how did you come to be chained to it?” he asked. The yagara floated gently in the water, and he kept a watchful eye to make sure it stayed within a safe range of your island.

You laughed a little, realizing that to answer his question you would have to reveal that you had lied, even if it was only by omission. Still, you didn’t think he would be too upset, if he even saw it that way. So you told him your story.

“I was raised in a large, poor family in a small village on an island in the West Blue. I suppose I was pretty enough that a wealthy man wanted to marry me, even though I was still so young. I don’t think that my parents wanted to, exactly. But he offered a large sum of money to my parents, in exchange for me and...they agreed.” When you had first found out, you had been livid and hurt, thinking your parents had betrayed you. Which, technically they had. But as you grew older, you began to realize that they had done it only out of necessity, with several other children and themselves to take care of. It didn’t negate the hurt, and you couldn’t be sure that that was how they felt, but it helped take some of the sting out to believe it. “I ran away and sailed for a few years. It wasn’t long before I finally realized that everywhere was like my village, either poor and in need of help or overrun with powerful people who think they can do whatever they want to others.”

That was enough to make Iceburg’s skin crawl. The idea that your parents essentially sold you to another person was nothing short of slavery, and as he looked down at you, he couldn’t blame you for running away. His hold on you tightened, which you didn’t miss. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was upsetting him when you looked up and saw the black anger in his eyes. But it softened when he locked eyes with you, one hand coming up to brush the hair behind you ear. “So how did you end up on this island then?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, trying and failing to fight the blush creeping over your cheeks. In the moment, you had forgotten you were telling a story. “Well, one day when I was sailing through to a new island— I never left the West Blue, unfortunately— I happened upon this island. The witch at the time was telling me about how much she wanted to leave, but couldn’t because of the magic. It sounded like a pretty good bargain to me, since I was tired of traveling and of people. Having the magic to keep people away as well as protect myself sounded like a dream. Of course, she didn’t tell me about the whole ‘island shift’, so that was an experience.” You shifted so that you were settled between his legs, your back pressed to his chest, and his arms fell to your waist. “The weather there is terrible, but it’s nice and quiet.”

It was strange, how much you talked about disliking people, and yet here you were curled up with him and talking like you hadn’t had a decent conversation in years. Which probably wasn’t far off, based on what you had said before. He wondered if that made him special, and he chuckled at the thought.

All of that raised another, pressing question which had never actually crossed his mind until now. At a glance, you appeared to be young, 20s, by his guess. But you hadn’t said how long you were traveling before you found the island, and you said it had been a decade since you had seen anyone. “How...old are you?”

You laughed and he immediately realized how that must sound. He definitely hadn’t meant it in a bad way, but he couldn't think of any way to ask politely. 

It was a valid question, you decided, but it made you wonder the same. “I’ll tell you if you tell me how old you are,” you said, eyeing him playfully.

“Well that’s easy. I’m 36.”

“Ah. Well, when I signed the contract, I was 25. That was 73 years ago,” you said. The smile grew a little more rigid as you waited to see his reaction. You knew the answer off the top of your head, because you kept strict track of when you came to this plane. You had no way of knowing for sure, because you hadn’t asked the witch before she left, but it always shifted the day you had signed, and you wondered if that happened to her as well. She had been older than you, with streaks of grey in her hair and a deep frown. She had seemed almost sad when you began to sign, like she regretted that you were doing it, but hadn’t stopped you. You supposed she had thought you would be unhappy, but it was fortunate that it was more than you could have hoped for. “Since then, I haven’t aged. I suppose it’s the island’s way of making sure there’s always a witch.”

“You talk about the island as if it’s a sentient thing,” he said, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the fact that you were almost a hundred years old, but that didn’t stop his curiosity.

“It is, or the magic is, at least. I know it doesn’t make sense, but the magic owns me, not the other way around. I can see it and control it to some extent, but it isn’t mine. I don’t even know why the contract exists, or who made it, or anything. All I do know is that the witch before me was bound for 230 years, the one before her for 150, and so on.” The house, you had found, passed ownership with the contract, and the possessions of the others remained inside. At least until the next owner cleaned it out. You had found documents and journals going back nearly 1000 years, but there was nothing on how the island came to be what it was. It made you wonder just how old it was, that that information was lost. “I’m pretty sure the witch was tricking me into signing, but based on the way they talk, they don’t want to trick people the way I was, but the loneliness becomes too much, never seeing other people for more than a week at a time, if they see anyone at all that year.” You wondered if you would ever get to that point. Sure, sometimes it got to where you wanted someone around, but it was always fleeting. You wondered if something was wrong with you.

As if he could read your mind, pulled you close, laying his head on top of yours. He too wondered how you managed to last so long with no contact, but it wasn’t his place to ask. If you were happy, he couldn’t see how you were wrong. “Well, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters, right? It’s wrong that they’re tricking people, but, well, after so long, I don’t think I could resist either. We’ll make the most of the time we’ve got left, hm?”

You grinned, burying your face in his neck to hide the furious rush of embarrassment. He had said ‘we’, and even the knowledge that there wouldn’t be a ‘we’ after this week wasn’t enough to douse the warmth of happiness. You had someone, even just for a little while, and it was enough.

“I suppose since you know so much about me now, it’s only fair you talk about yourself. How did you become mayor?” you asked, looking out towards the city again. The yagara had floated a decent ways sideways, closer to the massive door of Dock 6, but remained well within the boundaries your magic had placed.

“Ah,” he said, looking up at the door with a fond smile. He started off explaining to you about Galley-La’s history, which led farther back to Tom and Tom’s Workers. He began to grow sad as he explained what had befallen his mentor, and his friend Cutty Flam, and you laced your fingers with his in silent sympathy. After that, you fell silent, content to rest your head on his chest and listen to the beating of his heart.

He didn’t have much to say after that either, caught up in reminiscing about old memories he had never talked to anyone about. Even Kokoro, who was intimately involved in the whole ordeal, didn’t talk about it with him. And there was no way Franky would, he still felt the sting of guilt for causing it.

After a while, the gentle sway of the boat, accompanied by the warmth Iceburg provided, became too much. Your eyes closed, and you fell asleep.

It took him a little while to realize it, but he chuckled when he did. You looked peaceful, not unlike the content look you wore whenever you looked at him, or talked about your life. But it was nice in a different way, and he wondered if you always looked like that when you slept, or if it was just him. 

He turned the yagara back towards shore, guiding it as close as he could. You looped your arms around his shoulders when he lifted you into his arms, snuggling closer to him as he waded through the water. As he stepped through the front door, he realized he had no idea which of the other three doors led to your bedroom. He hesitated, but then you pointed, and the door straight ahead opened.

He chuckled at that, thanking you quietly as he entered. Your bedroom was markedly less cluttered than your living room, with a bed, a wardrobe, and another bookshelf the only furniture in the room.

And you had moved that clingy plant in, as well.

He gently laid you down on your bed. You let go easily enough, but before he could pull back, you had sat up, looking tired but determined. Your face filled his vision, and then he felt your lips on the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, Iceburg. I don’t have the words to describe how happy you’ve made me,” you whispered when you pulled back.

Your eyes were closed, and you were still close enough that he could feel your lips move against his. There was no thought as he cupped the back of your head with one hand, tangling his fingers in your hair as he captured your lips properly with his. He could feel your soft hand at his neck, the other curled around his arm, using that to pull yourself closer. Sooner than he would have liked, you pulled away, gazing up at him with a tired smile. His thumb stroked over your lower lip as he fought against the temptation to kiss you again. He still had to sleep and work in the morning.

“I should go,” he murmured, but made no move to leave.

Only when you nodded, giving him a playful push did he step back towards the door, which closed behind him when he was through.

Before you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but laugh. Turns out, it wasn’t lipstick.

                                                          _____

Iceburg was exhausted the next day.

It was the early hours of the morning by the time he got back, and that combined with the previous late nights had finally caught up with him. He was flipping mindlessly through paperwork, signing whatever Kalifa placed in front of him without reading it.

At long last, he was done. Looking at the time, he decided there was enough for him to get in a few hours sleep before he returned to you.

In the meantime, you had been tending your garden. Though you tended to roam the island most of the time, there was a special spot in the center of the island that was clearly the house’s “nest”. It was a literal nest, made of massive amounts of grass and foliage. It was also where the previous witch had kept her own garden, and you were sure that it had been in use for centuries, making it the richest soil on the island. 

The plane you spent most of your time in was shrouded in fog, and you had never seen the sun there, so the plants were specially cultivated to live with little to none. That meant that, when you felt the shift begin, you covered them with a tarp to protect them from the harmful sun. 

Still, they needed water, and the few minutes they would be exposed wouldn’t hurt them. Most of them were ready for harvest, which you would do when you got back. That thought made you wilt a little, but you pushed it down as best you could. You didn’t want to spend any more time moping. It was almost funny how in a few short days Iceburg had weaseled his way into your heart so much that you would forego your solitude for him.

You had started tending later in the day, when the suns rays were weaker so, by the time you were done, the shadows of the trees were starting to blend in with the darkness of the approaching night.

Rising to your knees, you covered the plants back up with the tarp and looked at your hands, deciding to shower on the way back to the beach.

It was past the time he usually arrived by the time you arrived at the beach, but not by much, so when he wasn’t there, you wondered if he had been so impatient that he didn’t wait at all. 

But that didn’t sound like him. No, something must have come up.

You decided to wait, allowing the house to settle down on the sand. Hours passed and there was still no sign of him. Trying to stem the tide of disappointment in your chest, you finally gave in and went to bed.

                                                          _____

Iceburg awoke to the first rays of sunlight hitting his eyes. When he realized that, he jerked up from his prone position, wincing at the pain in his back. That couch wasn’t good enough for a short nap, let alone a good night’s sleep.

There was a knock at the door, and Kalifa entered, looking not at all surprised to find him there.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged, Iceburg,” she said, setting a steaming mug on his desk. She turned to look at him, a knowing glint in her eye. “It’s going to catch up with you.”

He hugged out a tired laugh, even though guilt was eating him alive inside.

“Well, that won’t be a problem for much longer,” he said, standing up. Tomorrow, he reminded himself, it won’t be a problem anymore. He picked up the cup she had just set down and blew on it before taking a sip. The taste of strong black coffee made him wince. It wasn’t the way he normally took it, but today wasn’t a normal day. “Thank you, Kalifa.”

She nodded and made her way out with one last knowing glance.

Finishing his coffee, he made his way to the bathroom. Although it wasn’t something he made a habit of, there were enough occasions where he had spent the night in the office to warrant keeping a spare set of clothes handy.

As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t deny that he had needed the sleep. Still, he could only imagine how you must be feeling. He supposed he could only hope you would understand.

It was this hope that allowed him to get through the day, absentmindedly filling out the remaining paperwork as he watched the hands on the clock circle around.

When the bell chimed to signal the day was over, instead of immediately rushing out to you, he decided to go home and shower, changing into something more comfortable. While he was near desperate to get to you, he also needed to feel a little more human after sleeping in the office.

At long last, he was properly ready to face you. As if he sensed his master’s urgency, Iceburg’s yagara took off, weaving through the streets as fast as he could without being a danger.

The island came into view, and his heart leapt into his throat. Relief collided with apprehension when he saw your house sitting where it had every other night. He had thought he would have to go searching for you, that you would be too angry to see him.

But he saw you on the porch swing, watched you perk up as you caught sight of him and step off the porch as he splashed down in the water.

You hesitated at the shoreline, waiting until he stood in front of you. Before you could even open your mouth, he was grabbing your hands and apologizing.

“I fell asleep yesterday and didn’t wake up until this morning. For what it’s worth, I woke up terribly sore. I’ve been waiting all day to come see you. I’m so sorry, _____.”

You let him ramble without interrupting, and when he finally opened his eyes, he found you looking up at him with the softest smile.

“I was upset last night, don’t get me wrong. But...after I slept on it, I realized you must have had a good reason.” Realized wasn’t exactly the right word. Really, you had placed all your hope on it. The gamble had paid off either way, because he now stood in front of you. “I should apologize as well. I didn’t consider how hard it must have been on you, working and then spending most of the night with me,” you said, placing your hand over his heart. The steady rhythm drummed under your palm, a little faster than normal.

He returned your gentle smile, eyes closing halfway as his hands cupped your cheeks. His lips were soft against yours, slanting over them and claiming them in the gentlest way he could manage.

Your hands settled on his stomach, content to lean into him and let him lead. His tongue ghosted over your lips and you willingly parted them. You were met with the fresh taste of mint as his tongue swept over yours.

His hands left your face, sliding down over your shoulders, all the way to your thighs. Before he could try and lift you up, you pulled away, taking his hand in yours and leading him up to the porch. You would be damned before you got caught out on the beach, even if you were never going to be seen again. At the door, he got impatient and pinned you against the wood, skimming his nose down your cheek as he peppered kisses to your neck. His hands massaged your hips, your shirt beginning to hike higher up your sides. You laughed and gently pushed him back, reaching down to skim your fingers over the prevalent hard on in his pants. His hips twitched, and he glared at you as you slipped from his arms, disappearing into the house. 

Somehow, you were nowhere to be seen, but your shirt lay on the floor just inside. He caught sight of your shorts flung over the back of the couch. As he approached your closed bedroom door, he saw your bra hung off the handle.

He couldn’t hold back a laugh as he picked it up, heat rising up his neck to engulf his face. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck as he picked it up and examined it before opening the door. It swung inwards without a sound, and if he wasn’t hard before, he was when he found you laying back on the bed, wearing only your panties. You were propped up on your elbows, watching him stand in the doorway, his eyes taking in everything before him.

Carelessly, he tossed the bra to the floor, making a beeline for the bed. You scooted higher up as he came to hover over you, one knee pinned between yours, trapping you beneath his immense frame.

“Took you long enough,” you said, ending on a chuckle. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, destroying his hard work, but he couldn’t be bothered to mind.

Instead, he leaned down, gathering your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging. “You’re a witch, you know that?”

At that you actually tipped your head back and laughed. “Yes, yes I do.” 

You pulled him back down and forced his lips to yours, allowing your fingers to skim down until they found the buttons of his shirt. By feel rather than sight, you made short work of it and pushed it off his shoulders. You groaned against his mouth as you ran your hands over his shoulders and down his sides, feeling the skin and hard muscles flex under your touch. He certainly had the body of a shipwright, strong and lean and tanned from working on ships day in and day out.

You heard the sound of a zipper followed by the rustle of clothing hitting the floor and moved your head to the side for breath, and so you could take him in. He was just as gorgeous as you had expected him to be under all that clothing, standing up straight and proud as he stood completely naked before you. His cheeks were tinted red, and only deepened the longer you stared, until he couldn’t take it anymore and knelt back down on the bed, settling his hands on your knees. Long, delicate fingers slid up your thighs, squeezing here and there, trailed closely by his lips. Your breathing deepened, butterflies fluttering in your stomach in anticipation, until his hands parted your thighs properly, pushing your legs out and over his shoulders. His nose skimmed your outer lips, his tongue licking from the bottom of your quivering slit up to your clit, drawing it into his warm mouth. He sighed, feeling your juices drip down his chin and brought his hand up, slipping just the tip of one finger inside you.

Your hips jerked, one hand fisting the sheets, the other reaching down to gently card your fingers through his hair, breathing out how good it felt. That one finger finally filled you, brushing over a particularly sensitive spot instantly. On the next stroke in, it was joined by a second, and you couldn’t help the moan that followed it’s entrance.

“Iceburg,” you moaned, tugging gently at his hair. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your clit as he set a slow, steady rhythm, seeking that spot he had touched earlier. 

It took him a few tries, but he found it, judging by the stutter or your hips and the breathy gasp you took. He curled his fingers up, massaging gently, until you fluttered around him. 

“Oh, oh,” you cried, back bowing off the bed as the coil in your belly snapped. He was so gentle as he eased you through it, drawing it out until you begged him to stop.

He came up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and climbed back over you. You gave him a wavering smile, your eyelids fluttering. Your pussy was still throbbing, but you still wanted more, and jerked your hips up, rubbing along the length of his cock. He groaned, rolling his hips down to nestle between your soaked lips, grinding against your clit in the process. A jolt of pleasure zipped through you, tempered by your being still sensitive, but you didn’t care. You wanted him inside you, and you moaned, asking with your hips for it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, even as he braced himself on his elbows over you. The height difference between the two of you had never been more obvious as he towered above you; you had to tilt your head back in order to make eye contact with him, but you nodded, begging him with your eyes.

He angled his hips down, catching the tip of his cock in the opening of your pussy, his entrance eased by your dripping walls. You had just came, but were already so wet for him again, his hips stuttering as you clenched around him. He was only halfway inside you, but was already panting, his head drooping down to rest on his forearm. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, nails digging into his skin as you held yourself still for him. You couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing around him, your body aching for him to seat fully inside you.

Finally, his hips met yours, cock throbbing inside of you as he was fully engulfed in the warm heat of your body. His breathing deepened as he pulled out and rolled his hips back down, driving deep inside you again. With every meeting of your hips, he was grazing your still sensitive clit, but you were past caring at this point, lifting your hips to meet his desperate thrusts every time. You were already speeding towards your second orgasm, somehow, your ankles locking around his back and limiting how far he could pull out of you.

He made up for it by driving harder down into you, grinding deep into you and trapping your clit between his body and yours. You jerked, crying out as you careened over the edge, unable to help yourself as you rolled your hips up into him, begging him not to stop. You were so lost in it that you almost missed the low call of your name, his arms shaking as he worked to hold himself up over him even as you milked him dry. His head came down to rest on the bed, his chest heaving then flexing as you ghosted your fingers down it.

He laughed at the tickle and rolled off of you, flopping down onto the bed with an arm behind his head. The room was silent for several minutes as you both calmed down and steadied your breathing, then you scooted closer to him, laying your head in the dip of his shoulder.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you were on the verge of falling asleep when he moved, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. His other hand came up to cradle your chin, tilting your head up enough that he could claim your lips. Even though you were exhausted, you knew you only had this one night and didn’t want to waste it by sleeping. You pushed closer, slipping your tongue out to graze his lips, and felt them turn up into a smile against yours.

“I feel the same, but I need a moment. I’m not as young as you,” he said, pushing the hair stuck to your forehead back.

You laughed, hitting him playfully in the chest at his joke. “98 years young and still pushing better than you.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your back and gently pulling you until you sat up and straddled him. He was only half-hard, but viewing you as you sat atop him was doing wonders for that.

It wasn’t long before he took you again, just as gentle as the first time, then again, and again. The last time was almost desperate, all grabbing hands and passionate kisses, like you knew it was going to be the last time. He held you close as you sat in his lap, riding him until the wave broke again, and even after, you didn’t move for a long time, not wanting to admit that it was over.

At last neither of you could deny it and he pulled his soft cock out of you and laid down, settling you on his chest, legs wrapped together, his fingers tangled in your hair. Sleep came quicker than you wanted, but you were content.

                                                        _____

You awoke the next morning sore and still tired. As you tried to roll over, something pulled you back into the warmth of the sheets. For just a moment, you laid back down to snuggle up, then reality hit.

Your gasp startled a still groggy Iceburg, who looked at you in confusion. You rolled over in a panic, hovering over him as you shook him.

“Iceburg, you have to go. Once the island begins the shift, you’ll be trapped,” you said, pushing on his chest.

That got his attention, and he sat up, immediately scouring the room for his clothes. It wasn’t until you were both fully dressed and hurrying across the porch that he paused to look at you. Warmth filled his chest, tempered by a terrible sadness, when he realized that, even though you no doubt wanted him to stay, you were willing to let him go because you knew he couldn’t.

He wanted to, so badly he could almost taste it, he would trade his soul for it; it was so tempting to throw caution to the wind and remain with you.

But he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. Too many people relied on him, and his conscience wouldn’t allow him to abandon them.

Still, he could only imagine how you must be feeling, and he reached out to grab your hand, pulling you to a stop.

“Iceburg, what are you--? You have to go,” you said, trying to tug free. He needed to leave, and quickly, if he wanted to escape. You knew, by the way he talked about Water 7 and it’s citizens, that he could never be happy leaving the city he loved, and you would never ask him to choose between it and you.

“I know,” he said, but still pulled you around and into his arms. Before you could say anything more, he covered your lips with his, feeling you go limp as you gave in. He put his all into the kiss, conveying every unspoken emotion through it, because he knew he might never have another chance.

You allowed yourself this last moment with him, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold yourself to him. You had known it would be hard, had prepared yourself as best you could, but no amount of preparation could compare to the actual stinging pain of separation. Still, you couldn’t regret it. It was the first time in a long time you could say you would be unhappy going back. Even if all you had were memories, you would treasure them.

There was a growing sense of urgency as you felt the push and pull of magic. The shift wasn’t instant, but once it began it would be too late. You sloshed through the water, unheeding of the way it soaked your shorts. His bull was neighing, sensing the powerful change in the air. You stopped and turned his hand palm up, pressing a small object into his hand. “This will guide you to me; it’s imbued with the island’s magic. Just set it on the bow of your ship, and it will point my way. Now go, you’re out of time.”

You pushed him towards the boat, but he turned around one last time and kissed you.

He climbed over the side, his restless yagara already turning towards the grey city walls, and turned to look at you, drinking in your face in the hopes it would sear into his memory, like you had into his heart. 

“I’ll see you again. Maybe years from now, but I’ll find you,” he said as tears began to cascade down your cheeks.

His heart wrenched as you smiled through the sadness and nodded. “I’ll hold you to it. Goodbye, Iceburg.”

Even as you said that, you found yourself moving out, following him until you could almost no longer touch the bottom, watching him grow smaller and smaller until he was just a speck.

He couldn’t remember the ride back, only that he continuously turned around to watch you grow smaller, standing alone in the water. He couldn’t remember getting to work, only the concern his workers expressed at his having been late, but he waved them off. Locking himself in his office, he let only Paulie and Kalifa in, alternating between busying himself with paperwork and watching the island.

He could see now what you meant by a gradual shift, and why it was so important he leave. He supposed being on the island, it wouldn’t ever appear as such, but from his office the island appeared opaque, and seemed to be smoking. It grew more pronounced as the day carried on, until it was more smoke than island. The shadows of evening had long since swallowed the beach up, but you had moved your house hours before, and he thought he could understand why. Watching from his window grew to be too painful at times, at which point he would draw the curtains, obscuring his view. 

Inevitably, though, he would open them again, scouring for a glimpse of you.

It was almost a relief when it grew too dark to see the island anymore, but it also brought with it pain, because he knew it would be gone in the morning.

As if it had bit him, he was reminded of the object you had forced into his hand. At the time, he had deemed it infinitely less important than the final moments he had to hold you in his arms, and so had stowed it in his pocket.

He now pulled it out, finding it to be a battered log pose. Examining it more closely, he determined that it was broken, the needle snapped off at the stem. Yet, as he moved around the office, it always pointed in the direction of the island. He clenched it in his fist, being forcibly reminded of you as he felt the magic roll off of it in waves. Maybe it was because the island was saturated in it, but he had never felt the pull quite so intensely as he did with that log pose in his hand. 

He made a mental note that he would need to get a sturdy container to protect it until he needed it next. A calendar sat on his desk, and he picked up a pen, marking the days that he had spent with you. Not that he could forget them, but he wanted a physical reminder, something tangible he could hold onto.

He sat back, his chair creaking underneath him with the motion, and smiled. He would find you again, he knew it, even if he had to wait a hundred years.

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.6 - In which we meet up with the Undersiders

I showed up in costume.  I didn’t care if they thought it was rude or paranoid, I would rather be capable of surviving having a knife pulled on me than play nice.

I said it last update and I’ll say it again: Taylor’s being really smart while making a very dumb decision

I had caught a bus from the library to my house and put my costume on under my clothes.  Most of the armor panels of my costume were separate pieces, held in place by straps that ran into slits in the fabric of the costume.  Not all of them were, though.

I really appreciate how badass and complex her costume is, having made it 100% herself! It’s probably on par with some professional ones!

I’d made some of the armor part of the bodysuit, I’d made narrow, rigid sections of armor running along the center of my chest, back, shins, wrists, hips and the tops of my shoulders. so that when I strapped the larger pieces on, grooves on the underside of the armor would fit over them and help keep them from flopping around.

And now it seems she has improved it, keeping it both practical and protective. I love it.

I checked myself in the mirror before I left, and didn’t think anyone would notice unless I held a strange posture and they were paying a great deal of attention to what I was wearing.  I wore loose fitting clothes over the costume, – one of my larger pairs of jeans and a sweatshirt, and even with that, I felt painfully conspicuous

So she’s wearing casual clothes over her costume, and the costume is working right now as a kind of bulletproof vest while she goes to meet them, where she will presumably change to being fully suited. And going with civilian clothes and then changing out of view is a good way to protect her secret identity.

Taylor’s showcasing the appropriate amount of caution with this crazy plan.

I changed much the way I had the previous night, finding an empty alley, quickly pulling on my mask, pulling off my outer clothes, and stuffing the clothes into one of my dad’s old backpacks.  I’d hidden the backpack before I went patrolling last night, but today, I opted to take it with me.  I headed out the other end of the alley.

Aaand changed! Full costume mode now! The bug girl from the other day is back!

When I was a short distance away from the site of last night’s brawl, I sent a dozen flies out to scout.  I focused on what they were sensing.

I never realized just how excellent bug control would be for scouting ahead and cheking your surroundings.

I get the feeling this serial is going to ruin every other bug-based power in media for me, especially the ones that  use it only for  offense.

Bugs, it probably goes without saying, sense things in a very different way than we do.  More than that, they sense and process things at a very different speed.  The end result was that the signals my power were able to translate and send to me in a way my brain could understand were muted.  Visual information came through as ink blot patches of monochrome light and dark, alternating between fuzzy and overly sharp. Sound was almost painful to focus on, breaking down to bass vibrations that made my vision distort and high pitch noises that weren’t unlike nails on a chalkboard.  Multiply that by a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, and it was overwhelming.  When my power was new to me, I hadn’t been able to hold back. The sensory overload had never actually hurt me, even at its worst, but it had made me flat out miserable.   These days, I had that part of my power turned off a good ninety nine percent of the time.

This is actually really interesting! It seems her power let’s her see and hear through her bugs but doesn’t actually translate it to human terms

As such all she can see through one bug’s eyes are monochrome light and dark patches and all she can hear is distorted noises. And all of that multiplied by every single bug she has which amounts to a kaleidoscopic maelstrom of disruptive imputs that incoveniences more than helps.

It’s fortunate that she can turn that part of her power off, cause it could almost be crippling otherwise!

My preferred method of sensing things through my bugs was touch.  It wasn’t that their sense of touch translated much better than the hearing or sight part of things, but had more to do with the fact that I could tell where they were in relation to me.  I was acutely aware when they were very still, if they were moving, or if something else was moving them.  That was one thing that translated well.

Touch does work well though! So she can basically know where everything surrounding her is, based on where the insects she sent landed on; and she could also theoretically track the movements of people and their positions in relation to her. Not bad!

If she could interpret the other imputs she could have big brother-like control of all of her surroundings! I think this aspect of her power is far stronger than the pure offensive capability her swarm gives her.

So as I sent the bugs out to scout, the twelve sets of compound eyes first identified the trio as blurry silhouettes atop a larger, more defined shadow, backlit by a flare of white that had to be the sun.  I directed the flies closer, towards the ‘heads’ of the figures, and they touched down on skin. None of the three were wearing masks, which I deemed reason to believe Tattletale had been telling the truth.   They weren’t in costume.  There was no guarantee that the three were really Tattletale, Grue and Regent, but I felt confident enough to head around to the fire escape and climb up to the roof.

Huh so they did show up without their costume after all! That at least shows they are somewhat honest, even if it could still be a ploy. Seems like Taylor is going up to meet them!

It was them, no doubt.  I recognized them even without their costumes. Two guys and a girl.  The girl had dirty blonde hair tied back into a loose braid, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose and the same vulpine grin I recognized from the night prior.  She wore a black long sleeved t-shirt with a grafitti-style design on it and a knee length denim skirt.  I was surprised by the bottle-glass green of her eyes.

So this is Tattletale then! Without her costume! She sounds very cute! I love that her vulpine grin is again the most defining characteristic. She changes her hairstyle in her civilian identity huh? That’s such a small detail but a realistic one, cause she is probably the one that has to hide her identity the most! The other ones all had full masks and other things to hide their identity, while she had a domino mask.

The smaller and younger of the two guys – about my age – was undoubtedly Regent.  I recognized the mop of black curls.  He was a good looking guy, but not in a way that would make me say he was handsome.  He was pretty, with a triangular face, light blue eyes and full lips pulled into a bit of a scowl.  I pegged him as having French or Italian heritage.  I could see where he would have girls all over him, but I couldn’t say I was interested, myself.  The pretty boys – Leonardo Decaprio, Marcus Firth, Justin Beiber, Johnny Depp – had never done it for me.  He was wearing a white jacket with a hood, jeans and sneakers, and was perched on the raised lip at the edge of the roof, a bottle of cola in hand.

Regent is european! Has a pretty face and a lean body, which seems like it’s not Taylor’s type, but she could understand how other people might fall for him. He’s currently chilling with a cola bottle on the roof which is a mood.

Interesting to see both Tattletale and Regent in such a casual way, after learning they were extremely misterious online.

Grue was startling in appearance, by contrast.  Taller than me by at least a foot, Grue had dark chocolate skin, shoulder length cornrows and that masculine lantern jaw you typically associated with guy superheroes.  He wore jeans, boots and a plain green t-shirt, which struck me as a bit cold for the spring.  I did note that he had considerable muscle definition in his arms.  This was a guy who worked out.

Grue is jacked up! Has a full-on superhero physique and jawline, even though he is a villain. He’s also black and rocking some badass cornrows!

He seemed the most straight-foward and direct of all of them last time, and was the one who approached Taylor.

“And she arrives,” Tattletale crowed, “Pay up.”

Regent’s scowl deepened for a second, and he fished in his pocket for a wad of bills, which he forked over to Tattletale.

“You bet on whether I would show up?” I ventured.

“We bet on whether you would come in costume,” Tattletale told me.  Then, more to Regent than to me, she said, “and I won.”

“Again,” Regent muttered.

Oh they are really fun

Seems like these two are the more playful ones of the group, and Tattle still seems really sharp with her guesses!

“It’s your own fault for taking the bet in the first place,” Grue said, “Even if it wasn’t Tattle, it was a sucker bet.  Showing up in costume makes too much sense.  It’s what I would do.”  He had a nice voice.  It was an adult voice, even if his appearance gave me the sense of a guy in his late teens.

And Grue seems to be the most careful and professional out of all of them.

Also this further supports my theory of Tattletale having some crazy mind power.

He extended his hand to me, “Hey, I’m Brian.”

I shook his hand, he wasn’t shy about shaking my hand firmly.  I said, “You can call me Bug, I guess.  At least, until I come up with something better, or until I decide this isn’t an elaborate trick.”

He shrugged, “Cool.”  There wasn’t the slightest trace of offense at my suspicion.  I almost felt bad.

I like Brian. I think he likes that Taylor is also being very careful. Also, are you really going to call yourself “Bug”?

“Lisa,” Tattletale introduced herself.  She didn’t offer me her hand to shake, but I think it would have felt out of place if she had.  It wasn’t that she seemed unfriendly, but she didn’t have the same aura of geniality about her that Grue did.

Lisa is a good name. Also yeah Brian seems effortlessly friendly.

With how nice they are being, it’s easy to forget these guys are teenage villains

“I’m Alec,” Regent informed me, with a quiet voice, then he added, “And Bitch is Rachel.”

“Rachel is sitting this one out,” Grue said, “She didn’t agree with the aim of our meeting, here.”

Alec huh? He’s still being quite reserved. Also seems like Rachel didn’t really care about meeting new possible members or was even against it.

Seems she really is antisocial, as her page said.

“Which raises the question,” I cut in, “What is the aim of this meeting?  I’m a little weirded out with you guys revealing your secret identities like this, or at least, pretending to.”

“Sorry,” Grue… Brian apologized, “That was my idea.  I thought we would make a token show of trust.”

Behind the yellow tinted lenses of my mask, my eyes narrowed, flicking from Lisa to Alec to Brian.  I couldn’t draw any conclusions from their expressions.

Huh, I initially thought this was a strategic maneuver but now I’m thinking that this was actually genuine.

“Why, exactly, do you need my trust?” I asked.

Brian opened his mouth, then closed it.  He looked to Lisa, who bent down and picked up a plastic lunchbox.  She held it out to me.

“I said we owed you.  All yours, no strings attached.”

Oh, are they repaying her for the accidental favor she did to them the other day??

Without taking the box, I tilted my head to get a better look at the front, “Alexandria.  She was my favorite member of the Protectorate when I was a kid.  Is the lunchbox collectable?”

Oooh new name!! She’s a member of the protectorate, like Armsmaster was! She seems to be a long-time member given that Taylor was a big fan when she was a kid.

Alexandria...makes me think of Alexander the Great or the Alexandrine syllabic meter, or even the library of Alexandria, which all give feelings of past glories and idealized might. It just sounds grand.

“Open it,” Lisa prompted me, with a roll of her eyes.

I took it.  From the weight and the motion of the contents inside it, I immediately had a pretty good idea of what it was.  I undid the clasps and opened the box.

“Money,” I breathed, caught off guard by suddenly having so much in my hands.  Eight stacks of bills, tied with paper bands.  Each of the paper bands had a number written on it in permanent marker.  Two fifty each…

Lisa answered before I had the number totaled up in my head, “Two grand.”

I closed the box and did the clasps.  With no idea what to say, I stayed silent.

Woah that is a lot!

They seem to indeed be succesful if they can throw around these kinds of gifts!

“You have two choices,” Lisa explained, “You can take that as a gift.  A thank you for, intentionally or not, saving our ass from Lung last night.  And maybe a bit of incentive to count us among your friends when you’re out in costume and doing dastardly deeds.”

Her grin widened, as if she’d said something she found amusing. Maybe it was the irony of a villain talking about ‘dastardly deeds’, or how corny the phrase was

Oh fuck Lisa 150% knows about Taylor’s heroic intentions, at least on that night. With how much fun she had at the suggestion of Taylor doing “dastardly deeds”.

Whether she knows about this whole new plan of hers is another story. but this is indeed alarming.

She elaborated, “Between territory disputes, differences in ideology, general power struggles and egos, there’s a rare few people in the local villain community who won’t attack us on sight.”

“And the second option?” I asked.

“You can take this as your first installment in the monthly allowance you’re entitled to as a member of the Undersiders,” Brian spoke up, “As one of us.”

Undersiders huh? Interesting name, very teen group. I imagine it in an urban tag style. I like it.

So her options are to either take the money and leave (and be on friendlier tems if they meet again) or join their group

Something tells me Taylor’s gonna pick number two here, with that whole plan she had. Ooooh boy.

I shifted my gaze between the three of them, looking for the joke.  Lisa still had a bit of a smile, but I was getting the impression that was her default expression.  Alec looked a little bored, if anything.  Brian looked dead serious.  Damn.

That seems very in character with how little we know of them. Lisa the playful, Brian the earnest, and Alec the laid-back.

“Two thousand a month,” I said.

“No,” Brian cut in, “That’s just what the boss pays us, to stick together and to stay active.  We make, uh, considerably more than that.”

o.o Holy shit.

Also they do have a boss!!

Lisa smirked, and Alec chuckled as he swished the contents of his coke bottle.  I made mental note at the mention of this ‘boss’.

Lisaa what are you thinking about!!

Also good on Taylor for catching that.

Not wanting to get sidetracked, I quickly thought through the earlier part of our conversation in the context of the job offer.

I asked, “So Bitch didn’t come because she was against the, er, recruitment?”

“Yeah,” Alec said, “We voted on it, and she said no.”

Yikes, if she joins, Rachel miight be a problem.

“On the plus side, the rest of us voted yes,” Brian hurried to add, giving Alec a dirty look, “She’ll come around.  She always votes against adding new members to the group, because she doesn’t want to divide the money five ways.”

“So you’ve done this recruiting thing before,” I concluded.

“Uh, yeah,” Brian looked a touch embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck, “It didn’t go well.  We tried with Spitfire, and she got scared off before we even got to the job offer.  Our fault, for bringing Rachel along that time.”

“And then she got recruited by someone else,” Alec added.

Seems like Brian really wants to recruit more people to their team and they have been trying without much success before.

Spitfire seems like an obvious fire-based power with that name. Seems like Rachel was toxic enough to make her reconsider and join another team.

uuuh considering your history at school are you sure you want to do this??

“Yeah,” Brian shrugged, “She got snagged by Faultline before we got a second chance.  We’ve made an offer to Circus, too, and she told us in no uncertain terms that she worked alone.”

“Taught me a few new curse words while she did it, too,” Alec said.

“She was pretty vocal about how she flies solo,” Brian admitted.

More people!

We got Circus, who has a potty mouth and likes to operate solo, and Faultline, who also recruits!

Umm, Circus makes me think illusion-based powers? Or like body contortion? Maybe?

Faultline could be earth-based, earthquake related and such

“So you’re going the extra mile, with no costumes as a show of trust and a cash bonus up front, to get me to join,” I said, as the pieces came together.

“That’s the gist of it,” Brian agreed, “Long and short of it is, especially with Lung taken out of action and the ABB diminished by his being gone, there’s bound to be some pushing and shoving over territory and status among the various gangs and teams.  Us, Faultline’s Crew, the remaining ABB, Empire Eighty-Eight, the solo villains, and any out of town teams or gangs that figure that they can worm in and grab a piece of the Bay.  If it comes down to it, we want firepower.  We haven’t screwed up a job yet, but the way us three figure it, it’s only a matter of time before we end up stuck in a fight we can’t win, with Bitch as the only one of us who can really dish out the hurt.”

WORLDBUILDING TIME

It seems that Lung’s defeat caused a power vacuum, and now there are a lot of villain groups trying to fill it.

-Faultline’s Crew, presumably led by the aforementioned Faultline

-The rest of the ABB (Bakuda and Oni Lee I believe? )

-Empire Eighty-Eight, which I have no idea what it is about, but it has Empire on the title so that doesn’t sound good.

-Random Villains

-The Undersiders (with their “boss” leading them? )

It sounds like the events of the other day caused a big mess!!

“I just don’t get why you want me,” I said, “I control bugs.  That’s not going to stop Alexandria, Glory Girl or Aegis.”

More names!!

Alexandria, which makes me even more certain that she’s really really powerful

Glory Girl, which sounds like she’s revered and mighty

Aegis, which probably has some sort of super-defense, based on that name

And yeah Taylor probably wouldn’t do much against a high-ranking hero, to be honest, discounting the fact that she doesn’t want to go that road

“You fucked up Lung,” Lisa shrugged as she spoke, “Good enough for me.”

“Um, not really,” I replied, “In case you missed it, you’re the ones who stopped him from executing me last night.  That just goes to prove the point I was making.”

“Honey,” Lisa said, “Entire teams of capes have gone up against Lung and got their asses handed to them.  That you managed as well as you did is fantastic.  The fact that the asshole is lying in a hospital bed because of you is the icing on the cake.”

Oh what??

I thought she only distracted and weaked his group! He’s in the hospital because of her? Because of the poison?

My reply stopped before it even left my mouth.  I only managed a dumb, “Hunh?”

“Yeah,” Lisa raised an eyebrow, “You do know which bugs you had biting him, right?  Black Widow, Brown Recluse, Browntail Moth, Mildei, Fire Ants-”

“Yeah,” I cut her off, “I don’t know the official names, but I know exactly what bit him, what stung him and what the venoms do.”

“So why are you surprised?  A couple of those bugs would be fucking dangerous if they bit just once, but you had them bite several times.   Bad enough, but when Lung came into custody they had him checked over by the docs, and the idiot doctor in charge said something like, ‘Oh, well, these do look like bug bites and stings, but the really venomous ones don’t bite multiple times.  Let’s arrange to check on him in a few hours’.”

OH GOD

Tayor did you almost poison him to death accidentaly??

This was a regenerative dragon of hell and you almost KILLED HIM!! With bugs

Your power is a lot more fearsome than I thought

I could tell where the story was going.  I put my hands over my mouth, whispering, “Oh my god.”

Tattletale grinned, “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“But he regenerates!” I protested, dropping my hands, “Toxins aren’t supposed to be even one percent as effective against people who heal like he does.”

Oh my fuck did you go absolutely ham on him because he “could regenerate”?

This is lowkey hilarious. You almost stomped Lung accidentaly! Granted you almost died later buuut..

“They’re effective enough, I guess, or his healing stopped working somewhere along the line” Lisa told me, “By the time they got to him, the big guy was just beginning to suffer from large scale tissue necrosis.  His heart even stopped a few times.  You do remember where you had the bugs bite him?”

I closed my eyes.  I could see my reputation going down the tubes.   One of the spiders I had been using was the brown recluse.  Arguably the most dangerous spider in the United States, more than even the black widow.  A single bite from a brown recluse could make a good chunk of the flesh around the bite blacken and rot away.  I’d had my bugs biting Lung in the more sensitive parts of his anatomy.

“Let’s just say that even with the ability to heal several times faster than your average person, Lung is going to be sitting down to use the toilet.”

Okay first off:

BROWN RECLUSES ARE A BIG FUCKING NOPE. Thank god I don’t have any over here

Second:

DID YOU JUST ROT HIS DICK OFF??

“Okay, that’s enough,” Brian stopped Lisa before she could go on, “Lung is going to recover, right?”

With the look Brian was giving Lisa, I thought she might lie, regardless of the truth.  She shrugged and told me, “He’s already recuperating.  Slowly, but he’s on the mend, and he should be in good working order in six months to a year.”

“You’d better hope he doesn’t escape,” Alec said, his voice still quiet but bemused, “Because if someone made my man bits fall off, I’d be out for blood.”

Oh god he’s gonna be so pissed.

If he ever escapes you would have a giant scaly dragon wanting nothing more than to turn you into ashes.

Good results for your first night out!

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, “Thank you for that, Alec.  Way you two are going, our potential recruit is going to run off to have a panic attack before the idea of becoming an Undersider even crosses her mind.”

“How do you know this?” I asked, within a heartbeat of the thought crossing my mind.  When Brian turned my way with an expression like he thought he had said something to offend me, I clarified, “Tattletale, or Lisa, or whatever I’m supposed to call you.  How do you know this stuff about Lung… or about the fact that I was at the Library, or that the cape was on his way, last night?”

Yess, tell us about your precognitive or psychic abilities Lisa!

“Library?” Brian interjected, giving Lisa another dark look.

Lisa ignored Brian’s question and winked at me, “Girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

“Lisa’s half the reason we haven’t failed a job yet,” Alec said.

“And our boss is a large part of the rest,” Lisa finished for him.

Huh! so the boss is also a factor for success.

Interesting

“So you say,” Brian grumbled, “But let’s not go there.”

Lisa smiled at me, “If you want the full scoop, I’m afraid the details on what we do only come with team membership.  What I can tell you is that we’re a good group.  Our track record is top notch, and we’re in it for fun and profit.  No grand agenda.  No real responsibility.”

Huh so they are keeping the full details for when she’s an active member of the group. That’s smart of them.

Also are they really just a group trying to make money out of petty theft and heists. No hidden agenda? Not even of the boss? Hmmm...

I pursed my lips, behind my mask.  While I had picked up some info, I felt like I had a lot more questions.  Who was this boss they mentioned?  Was he or she setting up other teams of highly successful villains, in Brockton Bay or elsewhere?  What made these guys as effective as they were, and was it something I could steal or copy for myself?

The theory that their boss is playing sponsor to a series of low-level criminal groups could be true actually! I got a feeling that there’s something to this boss beyond what these guys said.

Also you’re already looking how to minmax their way of working into something that can work for you? You’re very good at finding uses for everything.

It wasn’t like I was signing the deal in blood or anything.  I stood to gain so much.

“Alright then, count me in,” I told them.

Oh god Wildbow was there a way to make that first phrase any more ominous?

Taylor what have you done?

[mushroommouth]

The Good Mourning Part II

A/N: So…I would like to formally apologize for this chapter.

When I post it on Ao3 I’ll have a more detailed author’s note about a couple cut scenes, decisions about this chapter, why some characters are distinctly OOC and junk, but I wanted to get this to you guys hot off the presses.

It, uh, got out of hand. There will be one more chapter after this one, and  it will not be nearly as long. This chapter does not follow my happy ending guarantee because it’s the middle part. And, uh. You might want to get the bummers tag ready for this one, Em. 

Also, it ended up being, like, 10k words. Tumblr messed up the spacing, but it it was too long to fix and still let me sleep tonight. (This morning?) RIP. 

Donna still doesn’t have rights. Enjoy!

-Skye (👻)

—

“So…who is Aaron exactly?” 

After the diner, Dan had called it for the evening. Cody was dropped off at his home, and Dan and Milo had returned to a painfully silent house. Dan’s mom had gotten back to them, frantically asking if everything was okay because Jake was not there either. 

  Dan had to explain in hushed tones over the phone that everything would be alright, that Jake just… wasn’t home. 

Milo went straight to bed, thinking he was too emotionally and physically exhausted to have nightmares. Instead, he woke up gasping at the crack of dawn, with a scream dying in his throat. Milo tried to sneak down the stairs but instead found Dan still sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television. 

  Milo suspected that Dan didn’t sleep at all. 

  The two wordlessly got into the car and began the second road trip in two days, this time to a town a few hours out. The only break in silence was Dan ordering breakfast at a fast-food joint for Milo and one large coffee for himself. 

  There was still the unanswered question, though, that Dan never really answered the night before. Now that it was spoken out loud, without any hesitance, there was clearly no way out of it. Dan sunk a little in his seat, not taking his eyes off the road. 

  “Aaron is… Jake’s brother,” Dan started carefully. 

  “Jake has a brother?” Milo whipped his head around to face Dan so quickly that the seat belt locked.

  Dan chuckled slightly watching Milo struggle to try and get it to loosen again, mentally making sure to choose his words very carefully. 

  “Technically, yes,” Dan said slowly. “He wasn’t- he isn’t a…good person, though, Milo.  He used to hurt Jake. A lot.” 

  “Oh.” 

  “…Yeah.” Dan took a long slurp of his coffee. “I’m not his biggest fan, and that’s putting it lightly. Luckily, Jake and I went to school fairly far and I thought we’d never see him again. I was hoping for that, at least.” 

  There was another moment of silence as Milo finally gave up and unbuckled himself to try and fix the seat belt. After a few attempts, it finally was gliding correctly, and Milo slumped back to get more comfortable. 

  “So why are we looking for him?” Milo asked. 

  “What?” 

“Why are we looking for him if he’s like… a bad guy?”

  Dan drummed the steering wheel for a moment, thinking. 

“He’s still the only person that knew Jake first. As awful as he was to Jake, he still might have some ideas worth looking into.” Dan carefully chose to leave out the whole ‘vengeance’ part. “Aaron might know things we don’t.” 

  “How do you know where we’re going, anyway?” Milo asked. 

  “Oh,” Dan snorted in response. “He, uh, came up in the paper awhile ago in a segment about, uh, fostering kittens.” 

  “Is that something you’re making up to make me feel better? Because that sounds fake.” 

  “Scout’s honor.” Dan turned to look at Milo out of the corner of his eye. “I thought it was fake, too.” 

  “I didn’t know you were a Boy Scout,” Milo yawned. 

  “Yep!” Dan smiled briefly at the memory. “How about you get some shut-eye? It says we’re supposed to hit some more traffic here in a minute.”  

  Milo nodded sleepily before leaning his head against the window. He watched trees blur past for awhile before ultimately dozing off.

  —

  Milo woke up to Dan gently nudging him. 

  “Hey, kiddo. We made it.” 

  “Wuh…” Milo sat up, rubbing his eyes until the bleariness went away. 

  In front of them was a somewhat-gaudy bakery. A sign in a cursive too curly to read glistened in the early morning sun. It hung above a striped pastel green balcony which fluttered in the breeze. The wooden door swung open. A customer walked out, holding a cake close to their chest, grinning ear-to-ear. They called something back to whoever was inside, presumably the baker. 

  It seemed… pleasant. 

  “Are we at the right place?” Milo asked. 

  “Yep.” Dan got out of the car and stretched before walking over to Milo’s side. He opened the car door and offered his hand. “Do you want to come in or stay in the car.” 

  “Come in,” Milo said without hesitation. He unbuckled and took Dan’s hand.

  They walked hand-in-hand to the door. Dan hesitated with his free hand over the knob for a moment, taking a deep breath. Milo squeezed his hand tighter, not looking up. Dan took that as a confirmation. With a deep breath, he swung it open. 

  A bell chimed from the door, getting the attention from the woman behind the counter. She glanced up for a second before logging the receipt. 

  “How can I help y’all today?” She asked, moving over to fill the gap in the display from the earlier customer. 

  “We’re looking for Aaron,” Dan said cooly. 

  The woman froze, before pulling back from the display to face the two fully. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before speaking again. 

  “Uh, I know he is pretty popular for cake requests, but you really need to do any reservations online or over the phone. The cupcakes in the display are for sale, though!” She smiled sheepishly, showing off a mouthful of braces. “…My boss got me in trouble last time for doing that, and I need this job to help pay for school.”

  “We completely understand.” Dan smiled warmly. “We just need to talk to him about a family matter.” 

  With that, she perked up, smiling brighter. 

  “Oh! Okay then. He’s out back taking a smoke break. If you guys want to wait here, he shouldn’t be much longer, but-“ 

  “That’s okay. We don’t want to interrupt you.” Dan took a step back toward the door before pausing. “Actually, can I get a cupcake?”

  —-

  The two sat in the car for a moment, waiting for a moment for Dan to regain his bearings. 

  Milo ripped the wrapper off and eyed the pumpkin-flavored cupcake. It seemed harmless enough, but when he went to take a bite, Dan held up one hand to stop him. 

  “One second.” Dan said. 

  He handed Milo the stack of napkins he stored in the console (a result of being an older sibling; Dan always grabbed more than enough for three people “just in case.) Dan then dug in the change potion of his wallet before producing a small pill wrapper. 

  “It’s Lactaid.” Dan explained. “The cashier said they use cream cheese icing.” 

  “Oh! Thanks.” Milo grabbed pill and the water bottle from the cup holder. “I always find these in weird places.” 

  Dan snorted. 

  “Yeah,” he said. “Jake sticks them in random places he knows we’ll always have on us because you’ll eat…whatever it is anyway. He said it’s so we are ‘never caught without them.’”

  Dan watched Milo take the pill and begin eating for a moment. Then Dan rubbed his face and leaned against the car. Aaron hadn’t emerged from the back yet, meaning they still had time to go talk to him, but… 

  It always was a foreign feeling. Dan, all these years later, still felt the shrapnel of frustration and, despite his mother’s gentle reassurance and pleading, hatred for the Pierlys and how they hurt Jake. Dan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to swallow back down his anger. 

  The drive wasn’t as long as he’d hoped. The cupcake bought him a couple minutes. He couldn’t waste many more or the two might lose their chance. 

  Dan felt tired. 

  (Was this how Jake always felt?) 

  “Hey, Dad?” 

  That snapped Dan back to reality. “Hmm?”

  “Do you want to try it?” Milo had broken off a piece and held it out to Dan, though Dan wasn’t sure how long Milo had been offering it to him before he spoke up. Something in Milo’s expression made this seem like a test. 

“Sure?” Dan took the piece hesitantly. He only chewed it enough to swallow it; he was sure it was nerves, but it just tasted like ash. “Are you ready?”

  Dan seemed to pass the test. Milo relaxed ever-so-slightly before nodding. The two got out, and, though Milo didn’t take Dan’s hand this time, he followed Dan so closely the two were almost touching at any given moment. 

  Dan lead them to the back of the store, which seemed ultimately unremarkable when compared to the front. A dumpster was slightly overfilled with boxes from a recent shipment. A handful of wooden and plastic crates were littered across the ground. 

  A few were stacked as if to make them more comfortable to sit on. Perched on top of this throne of garbage was a man smoking a cheap cigarette. 

  He was lanky, almost spider-like in proportions when compared to Dan or Jake. His dark, somewhat greasy hair was slicked back into a messy bun, exposing the row of piercings on his ears. The dark work-shirt had cat hair sprinkled across it, though he didn’t seem to either know and/or care. The apron had been discarded, likely left inside. 

  He looked up briefly at Dan and Milo before glancing down at the cigarette. He ashed on the ground before clearing his throat and speaking. 

  “The store entrance is the other way,” he said. “If you want a reservation, you need to do it online or over the phone.” 

  Milo blinked in surprise before tugging on Dan’s sleeve, who had ceased all movement. 

  “Wait,” Milo asked. “That’s Aaron?” 

  That seemed to get the man’s attention. He stiffened a little in his seat. 

  “Can I help you?” 

  “We’re Jake’s family,” Dan said cooly. “We wanted to talk to you for a moment.” 

  That seemed to do the trick. All the color drained from Aaron’s face as he shot up, stumbling back over the crates. He dropped his cigarette and tried to regain his balance using the lip of the dumpster. He bust out laughing for a second, nervously slicking his hair back. 

  “What is this?” Aaron asked. He bent over and fixed the crates before sitting back down shakily. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “You’re Jake’s brother right?” Milo grabbed Dan’s arm with one hand, leaning forward (but not wanting to step closer) to make his presence clearer. “We’re looking for him.” 

  “Oh, so this is some kind of a sick joke.” Aaron clenched his fists, before shaking his head as if to clear whatever he was thinking out of his head. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.” 

  Milo winced a little, tightening his grip on Dan’s sleeve. Dan simply glared at Aaron, not taking moving his gaze. 

  “And tell them what, Aaron?” 

  Aaron winced and wrapped his arms around himself. 

  “I…” He let out a dry laugh. “If I tried to run, you could just snap me in half, huh?” 

  Dan didn’t respond one way or another, still boring his eyes into the younger man. Milo tugged at Dan’s sleeve to respond. When more silence followed, Milo let go of Dan’s sleeve and stepped in front, redirecting Aaron’s attention. 

  “Listen, it’s been a long couple days. I…just want to know what happened,” Milo said quietly. Tears were beginning to bead in his eyes.  “I’m just finding out about— well, all of this, and I want to know what happened to him.” 

  Aaron sat for a moment thinking, before slowly unwinding his arms from his torso. He finally sighed and grabbed one of the crates and kicked it to Milo. The plastic scraped against the ground, skidding to a stop by Milo’s feet. 

  “Fine. Go ahead and have a seat, kid” Aaron said. “And you guys owe me a cigarette.” 

  —

  “So, what do you want to know?” Aaron seemed to completely ignore Dan and instead diverted his attention to Milo. 

  Milo shrugged, fidgeting his hands. Dan had a hand on Milo’s shoulder as if getting ready to yank Milo away from Aaron at any moment. 

  “I don’t know…just-can you tell me about him? About you guys?”  Milo looked up at Dan, who just squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. 

  Aaron snorted. 

  “Well, kid, I’m afraid I can’t help you much there. We fought a lot. Then one day, he left. And then he-“  Aaron swallowed, digging in his pockets before pulling back out the carton of cigs. “If you’re really his family, you know what happens next.” 

  Aaron was not telling the whole story. That means…

  “Tell me.” Milo said, without any room for questioning. “The last couple of days have been some of the worst in my life and I want to know what happened to Jake.”

  “I’m sick of people not telling me what’s going on.” Milo stood up, shaking off Dan’s arm. His felt his face heating and tears beading up in frustration. 

“I want to know the truth!”

  Aaron blinked in surprise, his eyes widened in recognition. 

  “Oh god,” Aaron murmured. “You were that kid, weren’t you?” 

  “What kid?!” Milo cried. “What happened?” 

  “Milo…” Dan warned. He reached out, but Milo whipped around and knocked his hand away. 

  “Dad, I just- I just…I’m just so tired of this, and all these secrets, and…” 

  “I know,” Dan said quietly. He slowly and gently reached back out and tugged Milo into a hug. “You’ve been very brave so far.” 

  Milo froze before sinking into the hug. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, holding onto Dan like a lifeline. 

  “I’m not dumb.” 

  “I know, Milo.” 

  “If you guys had told me, I’d…” 

  “We know.” 

  The two stood like that until Milo’s breathing evened back out. When Dan glanced back up, he was surprised to see Aaron intensely watching the interaction. 

  He had paled, clutching the hem of his shirt with his free hand. Something flashed in his eyes—something like yearning or craving, even— before he blinked and it was gone. 

  “Your name is Milo, then?” Aaron asked quietly. 

  Milo turned slightly, peeking out of the corner of his eye at Aaron. 

  “It’s my fau…I killed Jake.” Aaron said. “That’s what happened.” 

  The immediate silence was deafening. Aaron swallowed before continuing, eager for anything but. 

  “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just—I used to…hurt him, and I’d hurt him a lot. When he left, and it was just me and our mom, I just got angrier. If I’m not a good person, our mom was…” Aaron just shook his head. He pulled out another cigarette from the carton, looking it over. 

  “Anyway, he left. Things got worse.  And I found out where he lived. So, I packed a bag of things to get revenge, make him hurt as bad as I did—or something. I don’t really remember the details other than I was angry.” 

  Aaron lit the cigarette, taking a drag. 

  “So I showed up that afternoon. I was going to make him hurt. But soon after he answered the door, before I could do anything, he just…” Aaron cleared his throat. “You came running out, and I realized just how badly I screwed up.” 

  “I was there…?” Milo asked quietly. Dan said nothing but tightened the hug, seeming to be more for his sake than Milo’s at this point. 

  Aaron just nodded. 

  Milo began shaking slightly from within Dan’s grasp, but he had to ask. 

“How did he- how did he die then?”

  Aaron let out a dry laugh. “His heart gave out. Right there, pretty soon after I walked in. I didn’t even do anything yet, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t call for help, part because I was freaking out too bad and part because I didn’t want to get in trouble.” 

  “‘Cardiac arrest,’” Dan recited under his breath. “‘Caused by the combination of lack of treatment, physical stressors, and shock in seeing his allegedly estranged brother.’” 

  “Beefcake over there got to your house and called for help, but it was too late. That’s it.” Aaron took one last drag of the cigarette before putting it on the ground. He stood up and stomped on it, smothering the remaining embers. “That’s the end of the story. Sorry you came all this way to hear it, but I gotta get back to work.” 

  Aaron shrugged off any looks he was getting, bumping into Dan’s shoulder in the way back to the building. He made it to the door before 

  “Wait!” Milo said. Milo looked up at Dan, who instead took over. 

  “Jake’s…not gone.” Dan stated carefully. 

  Aaron stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

  “What?” 

  “He’s not, but he might be soon.” Dan took a step forward, finally letting go of Milo. “If you feel bad at all about what happened, help us. Please.” 

—-

  Aaron set Dan and Milo up in the shop as he wrapped things up. He talked briefly to the cashier before calling his boss. After a few minutes, he returned to the two at the table. He began to re-do his bun before speaking. 

  “Okay,” Aaron began. “I’ve got to finish icing a few cakes, but the owner is coming in early to cover for me for the day. I’m going to use one of my sick days, so you better be serious.” 

  “Dead serious.” Dan said sternly, before all three cringed. “Okay, bad choice of words. But as soon as you finish up, we’re getting out of here.” 

  “Whatever.” Aaron rolled his eyes. “I just need to get back by tonight. I didn’t hire a cat-sitter.” 

  “You have cats?” Milo asked. 

  “I have one. I’m fostering some kittens though, too, for the time being.” 

  “What’s your cat’s name?” 

  “Her name is Tom. She’s sixteen now.” 

  “That’s kind of a dumb name.” 

  “Hey!” Aaron slammed one hand on the table, pointing with the other at Milo. “It’s a great name. Get it? Like a tomcat? Listen, she’s a delight. You, meanwhile, wouldn’t get it of course, because you’re just a little—“ 

  Dan cleared his throat before Aaron could finish his statement, causing Aaron to jolt in surprise. 

  Aaron took a breath to collect himself before slicking his hair back again. 

  “Ugh. Whatever. Yes, I have a cat. She’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, so watch your fucking mouth. Just tell me when it’s time to go.” 

  Milo and Dan watched Aaron storm back to the kitchen. After some clanging around and grumbling, Aaron seemed to be re-focused on the task at hand. 

  “He’s a bummer.” Milo grumbled. 

  Dan laughed quietly, covering his hand to stifle it. 

  “Oh, you have no idea.” Dan replied. “This is actually the best mood I’ve ever seen him. He…” 

  Dan’s voice trailed off. 

  “..He’s kind of a super jerk.” He finally finished. 

  Milo snorted. “Yeah, I can see that. Do you think…do you really think we can trust him?” 

  Dan watched Aaron intensely detail the cake he was working on for a minute. 

  “…I don’t think we really have a choice, Baby Shark.” 

  “Dad, please don’t call me that.”

  —-

  It took awhile for Aaron’s boss to show up. He didn’t look or address Dan or Milo at all. Rather, he went straight to the back to talk to Aaron. 

Dan wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t to see Aaron’s eyes light up at the sight of his employer. 

  The two bantered back and forth for a moment before the boss turned to look Dan and Milo over. He pulled Aaron aside and their conversation became hushed. 

  After a moment, though, Aaron emerged sans apron.

The boss stepped out slightly, leaning against the kitchen entrance. He pointed at Dan. 

  “You. Bring him back in one piece or you’ll personally cover the price of every cake he misses. And Aaron?” 

  “Yes sir?” 

  “Get a goddamn haircut before you come back to work.”  

  Aaron snorted, trying to stifle back a smile. “You wish, old man.” 

  He turned around to face Milo and Dan. The smile and light from his eyes faded like a deflating balloon. 

  “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.” Aaron went to the door, opening it and gesturing the two out. 

  Milo took it gladly, ready to get out of there and continue the search for Jake. He began walking to the car, which Dan unlocked from the store entrance. 

  “Uh, Milo?” Dan called. 

  “Yeah?” Milo asked, already opening the passenger door. 

  “…Can you clear some space in the backseat? I need to talk to Aaron for a minute.” 

  Milo looked the two over and frowned. Aaron seemed just as confused, but Dan gently nodded Milo on. So, hesitantly, Milo agreed. He shut the passenger door and instead climbed into the back. 

While clearing out the junk from the early morning trip in the backseat, Milo snuck a glance up at the conversing adults. 

He met eye contact with Aaron, whose intense glare was unwavering for just a moment. Then Aaron sighed, broke it, and said something to Dan. 

  Milo jumped and hurried up, climbing into the front seat before the adults returned. He saw Dan and Aaron nod in agreement before heading toward the car. He sprawled across the passenger seat, trying to seem as unsuspicious as possible. 

  Dan scratched the back of his head as he began to climb in the front.

“Hey, kiddo.” 

  “Nothing.” 

  Dan chucked at Milo’s response as he buckled. He stuck the key in the ignition and stopped, looking up to watch Aaron climb in the back.

  Aaron grumbled under his breath, trying to adjust his legs so they weren’t pinned against the back of the front seats. The grumbling turned into mild swearing as he struggled more to get comfortable. Finally, he gave up and laid across the back seat, leaning against the window. Aaron caught Dan’s eyes in the mirror and scowled. 

  “You ready?” Dan asked. 

  “What does it look like?” Aaron snapped. Dan shrugged and started the car. 

  Dan pulled out of the parking spot and drove until he came across the first gas station. 

  “Okay, so we need to fill up before we hit the road. I’ll be just outside the car filling up. If you need anything, let me know. Last stop for bathrooms, too, until we’re on the road.”

  “Okay!” 

  Aaron didn’t respond. Dan tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

  “Milo, if you need anything, I’m right outside the car-“

  “I know, Dad.”

  Dan sighed and pulled up to a pump, taking out the keys and leaving the door cracked behind them. 

  Aaron stirred again from the backseat. 

  “So, a ghost, huh?” 

  Milo jumped slightly, turning around. 

  “Jake’s a ghost now?” Aaron clarified. Milo nodded, so Aaron continued. “What does a ghost even look like? What, is there a white sheet or something?” 

  “I dunno.” Milo said. “He just looks like Jake.” 

  “Hmm.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t even realize— I didn’t even know he was dead. He just…looks like Jake.” 

  Aaron paused in thought for a moment. 

  “I didn’t even-hm. I don’t even believe in ghosts or whatever. What made you find out he was a ghost then?” 

  “What made you decide to become a baker?” 

  Aaron looked Milo over before chuckling. “I asked first.” 

  “We…” Milo slunk in his seat a little. “I found out on accident from some cleaning stuff. We got in a fight. He disappeared.” 

  “Well, I know a thing or two about fighting with Jake.” Aaron turned to watch Dan pump gas from the window. “Welcome to the club, kid.” 

  “Not like that!” Milo unbuckled entirely to turn around, holding the back of the car seat. “We just got in an argument. You hurt him!” 

  “Ah.” Aaron smiled lazily up at Milo, not getting up from his sprawled position. “That’s the funny thing about hurting someone. You can do it so much better without ever laying a hand on them. Our ol’ mom was a natural at that.” 

  “I-“ Milo looked at Aaron with a blank expression for a moment, face flushing, as a sudden swirl of emotions tried to fight its way to take the front. 

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, though,” Aaron continued. “You guys seem…close. He didn’t, I don’t know, poof away sooner. Jake’s always been good at leaving. But he stuck with you two.” 

  Aaron looked back out the window, leaving Milo to stare at him. Milo swallowed harshly, his face still feeling warm. 

  “Your turn. How’d you get into baking?” Milo asked quietly, eager to change the subject. 

  “I didn’t mean to,” Aaron said. “I actually applied to become a cashier, but one day my boss was overwhelmed with reservations, so he showed me some tricks so I could help out for the day.” 

  “That’s it?”

  “Nah,” Aaron laughed. “It turns out I was really fuckin’ good at it. My boss is thinking about paying for me to go to culinary school when I’d never really cooked a day in my life before. I just had a knack.” 

  “Huh.” 

  “Of course, it helped that I was good at carving the fondant, cutting the tips of icing bags as to not let too much ooze out,  using a torch to caramelize… just. Precision.” Aaron looked back up Milo through the corners of his eyes. “Turns out we both got something out of Jake, huh? You, what, a father figure? For me, practice for my future career.” 

  All the flushing— all the color— drained out of Milo’s face in an instant. Aaron forced a grin, watching as Dan climbed back in the car. 

  “Okay, so—Milo? Are you okay?” 

  Milo whipped his head around, staring at Dan wide-eyed. Dan reached over and felt his forehead. 

  “It doesn’t feel like your fever came back. Are you feeling alright?” 

  “I…” Milo looked back over at Aaron before sitting  back down in his seat correctly. “I just want to find Jake.” 

  Dan sighed. 

“Seconded. Where should we head first?”

  “Depends,” Aaron said from the back seat. “Where have you guys been so far?” 

“Uh…” Milo tugged at his hair slightly to focus on the task at hand. “He’s not at our house or Dan’s parent’s house. We stopped by a gross old bar where he played apparently, his school, and a bad restaurant.” 

  “We also visited his grave.” Dan added. 

  Aaron snorted. “Well, there’s your problem.” 

  “What?”

  Aaron finally sat up correctly, ignoring his knees knocking on the back of the front seats. He stretched slightly before continuing. 

  “You went places that are happy for him,” he said. “You didn’t go anywhere that he would have clung to in a bad way.” 

  “But we went to his grave-“ Milo started. Aaron just held one hand up to cut him off. 

  “Yeah, and that’s sad and all for you guys, but that’s the biggest sign of how loved he was. It was meant for him. It wasn’t even, like, just a ‘RIP’ message.” Aaron leaned forward. “You gotta go somewhere that sucked and he could never move on from.” 

  “Do you know where that is?” Milo asked. 

  Dan sighed as Aaron burst out laughing. 

  “The house he-“ “-we-“ “-grew up,” they said simultaneously. 

  “Didn’t it burn down?” Dan asked. 

  “Haha! Nah,” Aaron laughed harder. “Not on its own! Besides, they rebuilt the place but made it newer ‘n shit to boost ‘curb appeal’ or whatever.” 

  “Wouldn’t Jake have already gotten to Donna then?” 

  “I wish. She sold the property— hoo, I haven’t laughed that hard in a bit— before construction could begin.” Aaron wiped the stray tears out of his eyes. “Last I heard she’s living in a one-person apartment somewhere and some newlyweds are living in the new place.”

  “Wait,” Dan turned around slightly to look at Aaron. “Are you not- do you not talking to her anymore?” 

  “Ha! No.” Aaron’s smile fell momentarily before forcing it back to where it was. “It’s hard to do that when she put a restraining order on her only living son, but—god, but it really is for the best.” 

  “Hm.”

  “Is that where we should go then?” Milo asked. 

  “It’s your best shot,” Aaron said.

  “But there are people living there now, and—“ 

  Dan rubbed his face with his hands, thinking for a moment. Finally, he slammed his hands back down on to the steering wheel. 

  “Okay. Okay. Alright. Let’s go find Jake.” 

  —

  The drive was entirely unremarkable. Aaron was silent almost the entire time, spending most of the trip sleeping. Milo took turns playing on his phone and listening to the radio, trying to preserve his battery to the best of his ability. 

  Dan sat tensely, not taking his eyes off the road. In the long lull of the highway, he occasionally drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Milo tried to strike up conversation with him a few times, but Dan was too lost in thought to notice. 

  It wasn’t until Milo fell asleep (though he wouldn’t admit it) that Dan finally spoke up. It was hoarse from the brief period of disuse, soft and sad. 

  “Hey, we’re here.” 

  Milo jolted up immediately, looking around trying to see where this house of horror was. Instead, in front of them was…

  “This is Cody’s house.” Milo said. Only silence followed, and Milo felt his stomach begin to sink. “Dad, is it-is it near here? Are we just picking up Cody, or walking to save gas or something? Are we-“ 

  “You’re going to be staying with Cody until we get back.”  Dan interrupted. 

  “No- no, no no no.” Milo reached over and tugged at Dan’s sleeve. “You can’t be serious. Dad, I thought we were in this together.” 

  “We are.” Dan turned his head slightly to face Milo. “When we get back with Jake—“ 

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” 

  Dan sighed. “I know.” 

  “Milo,” he continued. “I don’t know how Jake’s going to be…feeling when we find him. There’s a chance he’s not going to be himself, and I’m sure he wouldn’t like you to see him like that.” 

  “Then what was all this for?” Milo cried. He began tugging at his hair, frustration bubbling over. “Why’d you take me along if- If you were just going to ditch me-“ 

  “Milo!” Dan grabbed Milo’s hands, holding them firmly but gently. “Milo, this wasn’t part of the plan until I realized Jake probably isn’t looking to talk.” 

  Milo froze, trying to pull back out of Dan’s grasp. 

“…What does that mean?”

  “I’ll explain it when we get back.” Dan let go, pulling his hands back and settling them in his lap. “And we will be back. Jake, me-“ 

  “Preferably not me.” 

  The two jumped at the sound of the third voice. Aaron leaned forward, frowning tiredly but clearly had been listening to the whole thing. 

  “I’ve got to get back to my cats, remember?” 

  Dan let out a breathy laugh. 

  “See? It’s just for a bit.” 

  “Dad…” 

  “Milo, we’ll be back—after I drop Aaron off, I guess— and we won’t come home without Jake.” Dan forced a smile. “I promise. Just stay here where it’s safe just in case. Please.” 

  Tears began to bead up and steam down his cheeks as Milo looked at Dan intensely. After a moment, he unbuckled and flung himself at Dan, hugging him tight. Dan froze, surprised by the sudden movement, before relaxing into—and returning the hug. The two stayed like that for a moment, silent except Milo’s quiet sniffling. 

  Aaron cleared his throat. 

“Again, we’re on crunch time, guys.” 

  Milo finally pulled back and wiped sloppily at his face. 

“I’m still really mad at you.” 

  “I know.” Dan wiped some of Milo’s tears away. “But we’ve got to ‘get on the grind,’ right?” 

  Milo laughed a little, but he didn’t take the bait to make fun of Dan and change the subject. 

  Dan watched Milo climb out of the car, grabbing the stuff he packed for the morning road trip. He forced a smile again in Milo’s direction, waving slightly. 

The car was filled with a suffocating silence as Milo walked to Cody’s door and knocked, and Dan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

  He readjusted the rear view mirror to get a better look at the backseat—and now only—passenger. 

  It had been one week since the Pierly house burned down. 

  Jake was sitting on the couch, clutching his head and taking quick, shallow, and ultimately  unnecessary breaths. Dan was sitting next to him, rubbing his back. 

  “I can’t keep this up.” Jake wheezed. “I can’t- God. I can’t-“ 

  “I don’t know what you mean. You’ve been doing great so far! It’s not like Milo really knows any better yet, but you’ve been able to hold most drinks and-“ 

  “No, Dan. You don’t understand.” Jake glared up from in between his arms, his irises now a flaming red. It was odd to see that expression, though it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. 

  Dan’s hand began burning. Steam pillowed up from his palm, so he ripped it away, quickly rubbing the burn. He recoiled further as Jake’s whole body glitched in a showy display, though Dan made sure to be never out of reach. 

  “They’re still out there.” Jake murmured. 

  “Who?”

  “My mother. Aaron. Dan, Dan, I can’t-“ His form glitched further, and Jake clamped his hands over his mouth to cover an anguished groan. 

  Dan could have sworn, just for a second, Jake seemed skeletal. 

  Dan paused before reaching back out, ignoring the burning, simply to lay a hand back on Jake’s knee. They sat there for a bit, waiting for Jake’s breathing to even out. Once it did, Jake leaned back on the couch and laid his head on Dan’s shoulder. 

  “…What if…Hey, Dan?”

  “Hmm?” 

  Jake counted his breaths, still leaning against his best friend. He laid a hand on each knee, palms facing the air. 

  “When I came back, I was just…angry. I was angry at them. I was angry at myself. I wanted to hurt them for what they did to me. Dan, I still do—more than anything, just, like…I don’t know. It’s like…sometimes I can’t focus, and all I can do is feel and…” Jake swallowed. “Dan, what if, one day, that’s just it?” 

  “What do you mean?” 

  “What if one day I’m just…angry? I chase it, or, more specifically,  I chase them. And that’s it, I’m not me anymore at all. I’m gone, and nothing but anger.” 

  “That’s not going to happen.” 

  Jake laughed dryly. “How can you be so sure?” 

  “Because I’m going to drag you back, whether you like it or not.” 

  Dan sighed, forcing a smile at Aaron, restarting the car. 

“You ready?” 

  “As much as I can be.” 

  “You…could probably move up here if you’d be more comfortable.” 

  “Nah, I’d rather not sit next to the guy using me for ghost bait.” 

  Dan shifted the car into reverse but did not take his foot off the break. 

  “What?” 

  “C’mon, you think I haven’t seen Scooby Doo? Or literally any ghost movie?” Aaron smiled back  lazily. “I might be dumb but I’m not stupid. As soon as you pulled me aside to say you didn’t plan on taking the kid, I knew you’re just going to throw me in there and hope for the best. Am I wrong?” 

  “…No, but! I have a plan.” Dan turned back to the road pulled out of the driveway. “If he’s looking for you, then we get you inside. You distract him long enough for me to salt a circle around the house, and then we talk to him and convince him to come back home.” 

  “It doesn’t seem very thought out.” Aaron fiddled in his pockets before producing his lighter. He flickered it a few times. “It also sounds like you’re setting me up to be killed.” 

  “I’m not. He’s just…angry with you.” 

  “Oh, it’s okay. You can say it. I, along with my mother, ruined his short and miserable life, and were the reason for his life being so short and miserable. It’s pretty much all over your face, anyway.” Aaron looked out the window. “I can’t blame him.” 

  “Why are you going along with it then? If you knew this whole time…” Dan trailed off, trying to remember how to get there based off of memory alone. 

  “Mind If I smoke in here?” Aaron asked. 

  “Actually, yes-“ 

  “Too bad. Consider it my last meal on death row.” Aaron lit his third cig of the reunion period. “And to answer your question…I don’t know.” 

  He took a drag before continuing, cigarette still in his mouth. He talked out of the other corner of his mouth. 

  “I keep telling myself I’m on my way to be a good person. I have the chance to make amends of any kind, even though it’s…weird. If I don’t take it, can I really call myself a better person, much less a good one?” 

  Dan looked at him through the rear view mirror. Aaron immediately turned red, shrinking in on himself for the slip of the tongue. 

Dan was quiet for a moment, rolling down a window to air out the smoke filling the car. 

  “It’s not your last meal on death row. Unless you try something—in which case you have to worry about me coming after you— nothing’s going to happen.” 

  Aaron just laughed and rolled back up the window. He took out the cigarette out of his mouth and glanced in Dan’s direction. 

  “You make a lot of promises, big guy. Do you think you can keep all of them?” 

  —-

  The new house was charming. It was a quaint blue suburban with a well-kept yard. The driveway was empty and all the lights were off but the ones outside the door, seeming to welcome in any visitors that might come its way. 

  It was hard to imagine a furious blaze that destroyed its predecessor. Or, even before that, the screaming matches, the blood and tears shed that painted the halls. 

  “Damn, you weren’t kidding.” Dan and Aaron sat in the car, parked at the street. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  “I’m positive,” Aaron said. “The real question is how we’re going to get in. Are we just gonna, what, waltz up to the door? ‘Hey, we’re looking for a ghost of one of the guys that lived here when he grew up. Don’t worry, he didn’t die here, but I was the one that burned it down!’”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Dan shrugged. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s at home, though.” 

  Dan reached and grabbed his pre-packed backpack. 

  “Okay, I have kitchen salt and walkie-talkies and I think those have full battery.” He tossed one to Aaron who looked at him blankly. 

  “Why the fuck do you have these?” 

  “Because I’m an adult and I can. Make sure yours is on channel 2.” 

  “Okay, but-“ Aaron flipped his between his hands. “If I’m inside and you’re salting the outside or whatever, wouldn’t it be easier if I just. Y’know. Yelled?” 

  “Maybe, but we’re guests. It doesn’t look like anybody’s home, but I don’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood.” Dan got out of the car, looking back over his shoulder at Aaron. “Besides, this way lets me get back to you right away.”

  “Okay, okay. New question,” Aaron said as he climbed out of the car. “What if he’s not even here? This was just a hunch, and it’s not like me and Jake were the closest. This was a bad idea. What if-“ 

  With that, the sound of a guitar strum filled the air, the vibrations of which seeming to shake Aaron to his core. The sound caused the front door to crash open and the porch lights dimmed before turning to a brilliant cyan. 

  Aaron took one horrified look, but before he could climb back in the car, Dan clamped a hand on his shoulder and closed the door behind him. 

  “No, I’m pretty sure Jake’s here.” 

  —

  “…And they just left you?” 

  Milo, laying face-first on Cody’s bed, just groaned in response. 

  “Why?” 

  “Too dangerous.” Milo lifted his head up just enough to talk. “Dan said something about Jake ‘not being himself’ or whatever.” 

  Then Milo slammed his face back down on the comforter and groaned again. Cody sat down on the edge of the bed, patting Milo’s back. 

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Milo shook his head, but pulled himself up and scooted  to sit next to Cody. Milo sniffled, laying his head on Cody’s shoulder.

  The two sat like that for a moment, Cody thinking. Something was off about this, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. 

  “Did Dan go by himself?” He asked. 

  “No.” Milo replied. Cody kept looking at him expectantly, so Milo sighed before continuing. “He went with Jake’s jerk brother.” 

  “Huh.” 

  The room was silent for a moment. 

  “Did Jake or Dan ever tell you what happened in the haunted house? With the demon?” 

  “No. I don’t really remember anything about it really except waking up in the hospital.” Milo said. “Jake didn’t visit me because he was si-Wait a minute. That was a lie too, wasn’t it?!”

  Cody just laughed nervously in response. 

  “Ugh. So. What did I miss, then?” 

  “Well, I mean. You were tossed from the third floor, so I guess it makes sense that you don’t remember. But…after we moved you, Jake got really quiet.” Cody absentmindedly touched the nicely-healed scar on his forehead from the flying debris. “He told me to keep us out of danger? I guess?” 

  “Yeah?” 

  “Yeah. Then he kinda. Blew up? I guess? His skin-“ Cody shuddered. “He became a skeleton and his clothes changed to this suit. He yelled ‘no one hurts my family,’ and then he…ripped the demon apart, piece by piece.” 

  Milo was quiet before lifting his head off of Cody’s shoulder. 

  “Jake did?” 

  “Yeah.”

  “The blonde one.”

  “Yes, Milo, I can tell apart your dads.” 

  “…Sorry. Continue.” 

  “Okay, so-“ Cody began. “The house caught on fire a little bit because Jake was on fire and he was burning the…remains. That’s when Dan showed up.” 

  Cody fidgeted with his hands for a moment. 

  “Jake turned back to normal, but he used too much energy.” Cody continued. “Then he was…gone. Dan picked you up and helped us get out.” 

  “Why’d didn’t you tell me that…?” 

  “Jake is a ghost?” Cody shrugged. “I thought about it, but I thought it was something he should say. Besides, once he was back to normal, he looked really sad and…scared?” 

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I think part is that he was worried about what you’d think,” Cody said. “And part because it was scary to see him mad. It was like he couldn’t focus on anything but beating the demon. I think he burned up a lot of energy;  it took him a long time to reform.” 

  The room was quiet for another moment before Milo spoke. 

  “Dan and Aaron are going to the house Jake grew up in because it’s somewhere that would make him upset still,” he said. “Do you think…”

  “That he might be vengeful?” Cody swallowed a lump in his throat. “Maybe. Probably, if it’s somewhere upsetting enough trigger that mode.”

  “Wait,” Milo paled. “Do you think Dan’s in trouble?” 

  “…Maybe? I don’t- oh! I know! Do you know the address?” 

  “Uh, no.” Milo shrunk in on himself slightly.  “But I think they said the town.” 

  “Dang. Well, I guess that’s a place to start.” Cody got up went to the computer. “Okay, so we can look through 9-1-1 logs online. If the people living in that house called the police, the transcript should be here. And so if they called the police-“

  “Jake isn’t acting like Jake.” Milo finished. 

  “Yep!” Cody sat down on the office chair, typing some stuff in before freezing. “This…might take a bit, trying to narrow it down to the address.” 

  “Wait- the house is new I think. Aaron said something about somebody burning it down.” 

  “That helps! If I look up the town and arson- do you know when that happened?” 

  “I don’t know. Jake said he died about 10 years ago, and Aaron said their mom put a restraining order on her only living son, so maybe it was about the same time?” 

  “Okay…so if we narrow it down…” Cody trailed off, furiously typing and clicking through the pages. “Oh! I think this is it. House burned down…suspicious in origin… ’Donna Pierly could not be reached for comment at this time.’ Aaaaaaand- here’s the address!” 

  Cody opened a document and copied and pasted the address. 

  “Okay, so now let’s look through the 9-1-1 logs.” Cody was silent for a moment, digging through some files. He seemed to find it and froze, before turning around and forcing a nervous smile at Milo. 

  “Okay, do you want the good news or bad news first?”

  “Good news,” Milo said. 

  “Good news is, Jake was there at least as of last night. Bad news? He’s almost certainly in vengeance mode and Dan (and Jake’s brother, I guess) are probably in trouble.” 

  —

  Aaron was in trouble. 

  Dan cracked open the salt as the two stood on the doorstep.

  “Remember, if you need me, use the walkie-talkie. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be right inside to talk to him.” 

  Aaron simply glared at Dan as a response. Dan gave a thumbs up. Aaron looked away, sighed, and took a step inside. 

  The door immediately slammed behind him. 

  The house was dark. Pictures lined the walls of complete strangers. 

A young couple was featured in most of them. Some were of their families; seeing all of them smiling, pictures hung with nothing short of careful thought and love made Aaron’s stomach churn in jealousy. 

  As Dan earlier suspected, the house was empty. The lights were all off, though there was faint music coming from the direction of where Jake’s room once was. 

Aaron took out his phone and turned on the flashlight feature. He turned it around, looking around the house. 

  More pictures. Some plants. The house’s layout was different, but it was still the cleanest Aaron had ever seen it. It was charming. Aaron’s eyes caught a painted portrait of the Virgin Mary. It was set up in the living room with a frame painted gold. 

  Aaron went to take a closer look, when he felt breathing on the back of his neck. Aaron whipped his head around. No one was there, though blood suddenly splattered the hallway where Aaron was moments before. 

  Aaron gasped and staggered back, into a solid form. It grabbed his shoulder before spinning him around. 

  A skeletal form was standing there. Its- no, his- blonde hair was the only real recognizable feature. His features were sharp. He was wearing a sharp suit, though slightly decayed at the ends. 

  “You.” 

  Aaron broke into a cold sweat, immediately taking a step back. The ghost didn’t move, simply glaring daggers. 

And, as such, Aaron took off running toward the door. The specter made no approach.

  Aaron began furiously wiggling the knob, which had locked itself sometime after Aaron entered. As he went to unlock it, a searing pain shot through his fingers. Aaron recoiled, stumbling backwards. 

He looked at his hand, seeing the start of a burn. Blisters were already beginning at the tips of his fingers. 

  Aaron swallowed, clutching his injured hand. He sighed, trying to muster up as much courage as he could, before turning around. 

  “You can’t run back to Donna this time,” the ghost said. “You don’t just get away with what you did.” 

  “…Jake?”

  “Don’t play dumb.” Jake vanished before reappearing a few feet in front of Aaron.

  Aaron backed up, pressing against the door. Aaron hissed in pain as the door knob, still scalding, pressed into his lower back. Aaron sidestepped to try and move away from the door, inching toward the living room. Jake watched him. 

  “Hey…bro…” Aaron said, trying to change the subject. How long does making a salt circle take, anyway? “How have you been?” 

  “Funny thing about that,” Jake started. 

  The skeleton form began to shutter, his joints jerking sporadically. It glitched a few times before Jake’s skin reappeared. It really did look like Jake, though he was still wearing the suit. 

  And his eyes were glowing red. 

  “I’ve been dead, Aaron.”

  It took a second for Aaron to register that he was looking up at Jake. Jake was hovering a couple feet off the ground, closing in the distance. 

  Jake picked Aaron up by his shirt, holding him up. 

  “You already forgot? Because I think it goes like this-“ Jake turned around and threw Aaron, leaving him skidding across the floor. “You showed up. You came to my home to hurt me again.” 

  Aaron swallowed harshly and forced himself to a mostly-sitting position. 

  “It wasn’t enough when we were little. You came back that day, to what? Finish the job? I’m dead. I have been for a decade.”

  Cyan flames began rising behind Jake. It didn’t seem to burn the furniture, but Aaron was able to feel the heat already. He began scooting back, shaking a bit in fear. 

  Jake watched Aaron’s slight retreat for a moment before exploding. Embers went flying, scattering across the room. Some landed on Aaron, which he quickly tried to brush off and put out. 

  “Say something! Say anything!”

  Aaron cringed before realizing he’d have to speak. He racked his brain but said the first thing that came to mind. 

  “I’m sorry.” 

  Jake froze as Aaron forced himself to continue. 

  “I hurt you, Jake. Mom and I- you shouldn’t have had to deal with that. With us. But this isn’t you.” 

  Jake glared at Aaron for a second before lowering so his feet touched the floor. Despite the fiery color of his eyes, his glare was icy. 

  “You wouldn’t know.” 

  “You’re right! I probably wouldn’t. But I was with your family all day. And they never stopped talking about you or looking for you.” 

  Jake’s eyes softened for a moment before his form shuddered. His back arched before his upper body lurched forward marionette with cut strings. 

  “My family? Dan tried to get rid of me. Milo hates me. And you…” 

   Jake took one step toward. His form glitched again, this time appearing…younger. He looked like he did when he left home, wearing baggy clothes and hair dyed black. Bruising covered half of his face. However, this form seemed completely deadpan. 

  “You made me become this.” Jake’s hands caught on fire. “How’s that for family, Aaron?” 

  “Jake-“ Aaron felt his pockets for the walkie-talkie but came up empty. 

He whipped his head around the room, and instead saw it toward the door. It must have fallen off when he was thrown. Aaron looked back up at Jake wide-eyed. 

  “We never had to be alone, we never had to deal with Mom. It could have been us against the world.” Jake glitched again, briefly appearing as a child with broken fingers wrapped in a homemade splint. As soon as it was there, it was gone again. “But you decided a broken toy would be more fun.”

  Teenage Jake grabbed Aaron by the leg with his still-burning hands. Aaron yelped in pain; it didn’t burn the fabric of his pants at all, but he felt the burning underneath.  

  He dragged Aaron back toward the living room before dropping him. 

  “Listen, I’m sorry-“ Aaron tried again. 

  “Quit saying that!” Jake cried. 

  “No! I-I’m not. Jake, it’s okay to be angry.” 

  Jake froze. 

  “Listen, I hurt you. Mom hurt you. I’m trying to become a better person and, my therapist made me realize something.” 

  Jake’s form shuddered again, though he didn’t approach Aaron further. 

  “You can be angry. What you went through-what we went through. It only makes sense to be angry.” Aaron pulled his injured leg back slowly, trying not to get Jake’s attention in doing so. “But if we let it consume us, we just hurt the people we care about.” 

  “But Mom-“ 

  Jake finally showed emotion again. It was an expression that Aaron had only seen for seconds at a time. It was a look of panic and pain. Seeing it on the younger Jake, bruised and battered all these years later was almost too much. 

Almost. 

  “Jake, I haven’t seen Mom in years.” Aaron forced a laugh and pulled back more of his hair to show off his ear piercings. “I took a page out of your book. I got out and- and I could do anything I wanted! I got these done because I knew she wouldn’t approve. Not to mention the tattoo-“

  Jake glitched and raised an eyebrow. 

  “Your point.” 

  “Oh! Right. I finally went to therapy. And, Jake…it’s now like I instantly became I better, or-whatever, because that’s not how therapy works.” Aaron slowly began getting himself up, trying not to set off Jake. 

  “But I realized just how bad our Mom was. And how bad I was. Of course you’re angry. I’m angry too, a lot. No one asked you to forgive me. If you let it consume you, you just…repeat the cycle.” 

  Aaron stood up fully, trying not to put pressure on his burned leg. 

  “This isn’t Donna’s house. I burned it down years ago. This is just some random strangers’ place now.” Aaron held out a hand. “Just because it wasn’t us against the world then doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, too. Or that I’m not sorry.”

  Finally, Jake’s form glitched until it was back to his adult form, though he still had the expression of a distrustful child. His eyes flickered cyan for a moment, looking at Aaron’s hand. 

“I-“

“Jake, your family is waiting. They miss you want you to go home.” 

  Just as Jake began reaching for Aaron’s hand, the walkie-talkie went off. 

  “Aaron, I’m almost finished setting up the salt circle. I’ll be in in a minute. Over.” 

  Jake looked at the walkie-talkie and back at Aaron before grabbing his hand. Aaron screamed in pain as Jake’s hand ignited, fire running up his arm. 

  The fire retreated after a moment and instead spread across Jake’s body, bringing back the skeleton form. His eyes were solid flaming red as he glared at his younger brother. 

  “‘Go home’, Aaron?” Jake asked. “I should have known this was a trap. I can’t believe I actually trusted you.  Well…” 

  A circle of fire sprung up, trapping Aaron though never searing the floor below. 

  “If I’m going out, I’m taking you with me.” 

  “…Shit.” 

  —

  “We need to get there now! But how do we…” Milo trailed off, beginning to pace the room. 

  “By car would make most sense.” Cody said. 

  Milo gasped. He stopped and walked over to grab Cody by the shoulders, looking at him with starry-eyes. 

  “We steal a car!” 

  “No, we’re not stealing a car. First off, neither of us know how to drive. Second, that’s pretty illegal.” 

  “But-“ 

  “Milo, we’re not taking a car.” 

  “Fiiiine.” Milo groaned and let go of Cody. “What do you suggest then?” 

  “Well, how okay are you with getting grounded?” Cody asked. 

  “Joke’s on you,” Milo grinned. “I’m already grounded. What’s your plan?” 

  “I know my dad’s Uber log-in.” Cody smiled. “We order a ride, sneak out and head that way immediately.” 

  “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” Milo nudged Cody in the ribs, grin only growing larger.

Cody just burst out laughing. 

  “Bold of you to assume I’m not the one that kept you around. You’re pretty much feral, Milo.” 

  “Yeah, yeah. Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s save my dads!” 

  —-

  Making a salt circle around a house was a lot harder than Dan thought it would be. 

  The first obstacle was trying not to run out of salt early. Dan thought he bought a lot when he picked it up from the store, but apparently he was cutting it close. 

  The second major obstacle was the fence. The owners had locked it, and Dan circled the perimeter. There was no other way to get it other than climbing the fence. 

  Dan thought suburban houses were nice. But the tall fencing was suddenly the bane of his existence. Despite the fact that Dan would consider himself to be pretty strong and relatively in-shape, trying to heft him up over slick wood was distinctively Not Fun. 

  After that, he had to figure out where to continue the salt circle. The house was silent, and the walkie-talkie hadn’t gone off. Dan carefully continued the salt circle from each end, about to meet in the middle. 

  The house was still silent. That sat in Dan’s stomach like a rock, so he took out his walkie-talkie. 

  “Aaron, I’m almost finished setting up the salt circle. I’ll be in in a minute.” Dan said into the device. Leaving it there felt odd, so he hesitated before adding an “Over.” 

  As Dan finished the circle, a shriek came from inside. Dan dropped the container instantly and took off running into the building. 

  —-

  Flames were licking everywhere. Even though it didn’t burn the house and remained smokeless, it still ate up oxygen. 

  Jake watched Aaron cough as the circle of fire slowly closed in. He had collapsed to his knees sometime earlier. Various burns were scattered across his body already, though Jake just watched as his coughing grew heavier. 

  Once he seemed sufficiently dazed, Jake waved away the fire surrounding Aaron.

  Jake held out one hand and summoned his guitar. 

  Aaron barely had the time to look up as Jake swung the guitar directly at his head. 

  Suddenly, the world seemed to topple over. 

  —

  Dan rushed in, watching Jake get ready to swing his guitar at Aaron’s head.

  Dan didn’t really have time to weigh his promises to Milo and Aaron, so he took off running. 

  He managed to shove Aaron out of the way, but the body of the guitar caught him full-speed in the side of the face. 

  And 

  the 

  anchor 

  cracked 

  and 

  broke

  —

“Thank you!” Cody called to the driver. Milo already took off running for the door. 

Technically, he leapt out as the car was still moving, pulling into the driveway. He stumbled a couple times, but nothing could stop him after he saw Dan’s car. 

  “Milo, wait-“ 

  Milo wiggled the door knob, crying out in frustration when it wouldn’t open. 

  “It’s locked!” 

  Cody waved quickly to the driver before running up to the door. 

  “Check under the mat.” Cody instructed. 

  Milo with shaky hands lifted the welcome mat and produced the spare key. He tried to unlock it, but his hands were shaking too badly. Milo dropped the keys and cried out again. 

  Cody just scooped it up and unlocked the door for him. Milo rushed in, but almost toppled over skidding to a stop as he took in the scene. 

  The room was still hot. Aaron had dragged himself in one corner, nursing some of the worse burns on his arm. He seemed barely conscious . 

  Milo whipped his head around before seeing Dan on the ground. Kneeling near him was a flickering, translucent Jake. 

  “-ilo, I’m -oRry-“ Jake looked up at Milo with wide and panicked brown eyes. Tears were streaming down Jake’s face. 

  Milo took a shaky step closer. As he approached, he realized Jake was trying to cradle Dan’s head, but Jake was phasing through him entirely. 

  “MiLo…”  Jake held out a hand, though it vanished. No glitching. No light show. His hand just disappeared. 

  Piece by piece, the same thing happened to Jake’s form. He was disappearing. Jake looked himself over before trying to force a reassuring smile to Milo. 

  It was entirely unconvincing, though, with the waterfalls cascading down his cheeks. 

  Milo fell to his knees, shocked and unable to bring himself to approach more. Tears began trailing down his cheeks too, but Milo didn’t immediately realize it. 

  Jake’s legs disappeared, then his torso chunks at a time. It began occurring quicker, until Jake was essentially  just shoulders and a head. He looked at himself again, and then back to Milo. 

  “I lOve yoU.” 

  And like that, Jake faded away entirely. 

  Milo didn’t process Cody running over, turning over Dan. 

He didn’t process Cody gagging at the swelling already occurring on the side of Dan’s face, or Cody telling him that Dan’s cheek or jaw was almost definitely broken. 

  He didn’t process the slight blood trail dribbling down Dan’s lips from broken teeth, or Cody moving rolling Dan on his side. 

  He didn’t process Cody calling for help, or sitting next to him to hug him tight and say whatever reassurances came to mind. 

  No. 

  All Milo could focus on were the pieces of Jake’s guitar, from the broken neck to the fractured body, a faint cyan glow still  illuminating it in the dark room. 

[ramblingrybo]

Hyacinths? You’ll need some hair lacquer

I have an intimate knowledge of hyacinths. The same can be said of strawberries, potatoes and cocktail onions. It was what we picked or sorted in the fields and factories of Boston when I was young. In those days, most casual work was connected to agriculture and there was plenty of it. It might have been mind-numbing but it guaranteed a ready source of income with which to buy comics, records, guitar strings or cigarettes, depending on your age.

I started working on the land when I was ten. A double decker bus would pick us up after school from the scout huts near Skirbeck church and take us to the fruit fields of Frampton, four miles away. The bus would be crammed with hyper-active school children, harassed young mothers and short-tempered grannies with ill-functioning hearing aids. Nobody talked; everybody shouted. This was punctuated by the odd slap and scream. It was pure bedlam.

When we were finally released from this uproar upon our arrival, all you could see were endless rows of bobbing rumps. All you could hear was the distant growl of a tractor and the trilling of skylarks in the vast skies above us. Within minutes, we were picking our own row, filling a bucket in exchange for a few pence and then repeating the process, more slowly each time. At first, you would start to pick with fast pecking hands. Very soon, however, any sense of urgency would disappear, quickly replaced by a mechanical lethargy until finally a state of paralysis set in. This was reflected in the shape of the body, from bent to crawling to completely inert. Some people, however, took this one step further. One summer, we found Gonk’s younger brother, Rabbit, curled-up asleep in one of the furrows. However, for the rest of us, three hours of routine picking left us with an aching back, knees covered in mashed strawberries and glazed eyes. 

All soft fruit work was piece-work but at least with raspberries and gooseberries you didn’t have to stoop so far. That was the good news. The bad news was that you had to pick with prickles or thorns for company. Raspberries were bearable although the fruit was so delicate, it was like picking soft meringues - easily squash-able. Gooseberries, on the other hand, were savage. Trying to pick gooseberries quickly while only wearing a pair of Marigolds, was like feeding your hands into a factory loom. It was only the regulars who made any money. They could strip a bush within seconds and fill a wicker basket within minutes. I was so impressed the first time I witnessed it. 

‘Wow, that’s amazing. I just tried to do that and left a lot of skin behind.’

‘You know why they’re so good, don’t you?

‘No.’

‘It’s the gloves they’ve got. They have metal palms. You could strip the barnacles from the bottom of a boat with a pair of those.’

Soft fruit piece-work was for the beginners. If you wanted to guarantee full time work for the holidays and enjoy a weekly pay packet, you needed to join a gang. I was lucky. As a fourteen year old, I found Maggie. She was an experienced ganger who didn’t suffer fools gladly. A strict disciplinarian, Maggie hated lateness, sloppy work and anybody answering her back. She had an acid tongue, skin as leathery as an old saddle-bag and a forearm smash that could stun a mule. If you toed the line, working for Maggie was a cinch. If you didn’t, you could be harangued, physically assaulted, summarily dismissed or, worst of all, find yourself walking all the way home from Spalding, a tedious and exhausting trek of fourteen miles. Work could be anywhere in the south of Lincolnshire. We would get picked up at 7a.m. in Boston and be working in the fields of Bicker, Pinchbeck, Dogdyke, Cowbit or Moulton Chapel by 8. The van which picked us up was held together with bits of bailer twine and wire - a description which could also be applied to some of  the regular workers whose company we kept every holiday. Moose was one of them. He was a huge, kindly man with the strength of a cart horse but the brain of a child. Poor thing believed anything we told him. His trousers were always at half-mast, he sported a basin haircut and lived in a shed behind his mum’s council bungalow.

Most of the work was picking potatoes which is back-breaking and relentless. We prayed for the tractor with its plough to break down. When it didn’t, we had to pick two-handed to keep up although heel and toeing could lighten the load considerably. This entailed stamping on the potatoes to bury them with the heel of your boot and then scraping back with the toe to cover the evidence with soil. Well-practised proponents of this skill could tap-dance a whole row of potatoes out of existence. Many of the best workers were women who could work for hours without a break. As most of them smoked and kept their cigarettes in their mouths while picking, many of them sported nicotine stains on their upper lips. As a result, lunch times in the van could be a bit of a trial for the rest of us. Watching a nicotine stained woman eating a fried egg sandwich was not an appetising sight. Many a slice of pork pie was returned to a lunch box, uneaten.

Sometimes we were released from the retches and furrows to work on tractor-drawn potato harvesters, machines which harvested the crop and allowed sorting to be carried out on a mobile conveyor belt. A line of us would pick out the rotten or damaged potatoes. Once again, it was relentless work but at least we were standing up. The only problem came in really hot weather when the fields were dry. The harvester would create dust storms which meant that we had to wear hats, goggles and scarves to protect heads and faces. Looking like flying aces from the First World War, we baked, lost all sense of hearing and dreamt of ice-cold drinks.

Promotion came at the age of sixteen when we moved from the fields to the factory. Thinking we had finally made it, we got jobs at Johnson’s Seeds, working in the bulb packaging department. Little did we know, however, of the suffering which lay ahead. At first, our daily routine was a doddle. No rain, decent breaks, a canteen, good pay. And the work? Undemanding, if a little dull. My job was to load crocus bulbs into a mechanical hopper which vibrated back and forth and graded them. It wasn’t difficult -  a bit of lugging, pushing a couple of buttons and some prodding. And repeat. But then we switched to hyacinth bulbs and for the next few weeks our lives became a living hell.

We should have heeded Beryl’s warning on the Friday afternoon. 

‘Hyacinths on Monday. You’ll be needin’ some hair lacquer, lovey.’

I waited until she had gone before turning to Gary.

‘Hair lacquer? What’s she on about?’

‘Search me. It’s probably the medication.’

‘You reckon she’s off her trolley?’

‘Must be.’

A further clue was provided first thing on the Monday morning when we arrived at the hoppers. Eric, the manager, was positively buoyant. Chortling to himself, he winked at Stuart, the foreman, and both of them began to rub their hands together like two football supporters eagerly anticipating a cup final. 

‘Come on, then, what are yer waitin’ fer? Git them machines runnin’ and them hyacinths tumblin’.’

And we did. And five minutes later, we were scratching crazily at our necks, throats and scalps and emitting high-pitched wails like the noise cars make when they are being crushed slowly in a scrapyard with a giant iron claw. Very quickly, any exposed skin was red raw and nasty welts had been scored by fingernails into our flesh. We jigged and flailed like members of a religious cult while Eric and Stuart rocked with laughter from the safety of their office. 

And what was to blame for this sudden change of behaviour? Sounds implausible I know but it was the waxy skin on the hyacinth bulbs. You see, it breaks down into small flecks when it is tossed about in a hopper. These flecks become airborne and alight on the open pores of necks and throats and cause extreme irritation. The only way of preventing this is to apply a thick coating of hair lacquer to the skin to block the pores. Rather than being off her trolley, Beryl had been trying to protect us. What we took to be the mutterings of a mad woman were, in fact, the kind words of a co-worker.

We didn’t make the same mistake twice. On our way home, we called in at the chemist’s.

‘Five tins of hair lacquer, please.’

‘Blimey, young man, it’ll set like cement if yer use that much.’

If it was possible to protect against the effects of hyacinth bulbs, the same could not be said of cocktail onions. These were what we ended up sorting and grading in the factory job which took us through our college years. It wasn’t that they made your eyes stream. We soon got used to that. No, it was what lingered afterwards which was the cause of much embarrassment. You see, the smell of cocktail onions stays for days, not only on your clothes but on your skin as well. Baths, deodorant, after shave, all were useless in the struggle to remain fresh and wholesome. A weekend trip to the cinema with your girlfriend could be a fraught affair. In the warmth of the auditorium, the smell of onions returned with a vengeance, seeping out of bodily pores and crevices. 

‘What on earth is that smell? It’s not you, is it?’

‘No, of course, not.’

‘Have you had a bath today?’

‘Yes, I had a long soak.’

‘Can you lean away a bit?’

‘That OK?’

‘Actually, can you sit over there?’

Even when we had left the job for good, we were haunted by the odour. Working in a cocktail onion factory might have been good money but it didn’t half play havoc with your love life.

So, there we have it. The trials and tribulations of working in the fields and factories of Boston as a pupil and student in the late 60s and early 70s. And its legacy? A life-long admiration for anybody working on the land and an appreciation of the choices which were made available to me in my own life.

Next time: ‘On the Verge of Orchids (or Where did I put that Herb Paris?)’ 

[thedyingmoon]

💜 This I Promise 💜

***

LXVI. Goodbye

***

"Captain Levi?"

"(F/N)."

She can't believe her eyes. It really was Levi, himself.

But, what was he doing here?

"W-what are you doing here?" (F/N) stuttered, not really prepared for this particular encounter.

"I have come to confirm Hange's news." he answered. "Turns out it is true."

Silence.

For a moment, none of them uttered a single word. The two of them just stood there trying their best to avoid each other's eyes. That was until (F/N) noticed Levi's clothes, which was the official uniform for the veteran Soldiers for the Scouting Legion.

Levi noticed the reaction on (F/N)'s face, so he provided the answer, himself.

"I just got back in the Legion." he said.

"Oh."

More silence. Just when she was about to utter the words she had been rehearsing for when they would finally meet, words like, why didn't you come sooner?, I have been waiting for you!, and what took you so long?, Levi went a bit closer to her as he took out something from his trench coat pocket. It was her old diary which she left at the Dawk Residence. And he was handing it to her.

"How did you get that?"

"Jonas gave it to me." Levi answered truthfully. It was handed to him by the teenager after (F/N) has left their household. The boy seriously believed that their relationship could be fixed, and that they would start all over again the moment they sit down and talk about matters that caused their misunderstanding.

(F/N) knew deep within her heart what Levi was planning, and despite her wanting so much to take the diary from him, she simply refused him by taking a few steps away from him as if he was bearing the plague.

Levi saw this and was completely hurt.

"Y-you don't want it back?" he asked her, the pain clearly heard from his voice.

"You can have it. Or you can throw it away, Captain Levi." she said, emphasizing on his official, give title.

"Why would I throw it away?" Levi said to her.

"I said if you just wanted to." (F/N) answered, the fire in her voice purely accidental. A thing which she greatly regretted.

However, Levi did not know this as he quietly and dejectedly put the diary back to his pocket. There were just two things in his mind, and he narrowed them down into his only options. The first one was what Jonas wanted, and the second one was what he didn't really want, but have to work on, anyway.

And, it seems that he had to go to the second choice, seeing that ring on her left finger. She was, indeed, getting married.

Yes, he has finally made a decision.

"I have also come to let you know about our incoming Expedition outside the Walls." he said.

"Oh. Alright, then." she simply answered, knowing that Levi, Humanity's Strongest Soldier, would surely survive the mission.

At this point, Levi was beyond hurt and heartbroken; (F/N) didn't really care about him anymore.

(F/N) couldn't possibly know what Levi was going through as of the moment, but when he finally smiled a genuine smile at her, she finally noticed her mistake,...

... and complete stupidity.

"I wish you well." he said, pain in his voice and a simple smile on his lips. "Live long and always be happy, (F/N). Goodbye."

(F/N) had no time to answer as the man quietly made his way outside without ever turning back.

The painful scene between the two of them that played in the living room still played in her head for two more weeks right until her wedding day. The thought about how Levi sounded hurt upon her rejection haunted her like a restless ghost, and it honestly gave her numerous sleepless nights. Observant Claire and shy Rogers both noticed this, but they weren't the only people who noticed.

Erwin Smith, who just came out of the Hospital, noticed how (F/N) rarely smiled. And whenever she did, it felt forced and filled with sadness. Of course, being a man of utter curiosity, he searched for the answer, himself.

And, of course, being a man who always gets the results he wants, he got his answer. And apparently, it was directly related to the Captain's visit and the Legion's announcement that they were going on an Expedition to secure a safe route towards Shiganshina District. But then, (F/N) couldn't be sad because of that, right? After all, one of his dreams would finally come true - he was finally going to marry her. And it was purely coincidental that it would take place on the same day as the Expedition.

***

The day has finally arrived, the day when their wedding would take place. It was also the day of the Expedition.

(F/N) woke up feeling wrong at different sections of her body. Her neck felt stiff, her eyes looked puffy, even her hair was a complete and unmanageable mess that it took her personal handmaiden almost five hours to make her look at least presentable. The wedding would take place at one of the oldest churches in Wall Rose where the elites of Wall Sina would not reach them. It was Erwin's decision, and (F/N) went gladly along with it.

With her white wedding gown and a small entourage of servants, along with the loyal Rogers and the Dowager, herself, they went towards the location of the wedding where Erwin was waiting. And when they finally arrived, (F/N) saw Hange in full uniform waiting just outside the church.

"Hello, (F/N)." she said and waved.

"Miss Hange, what are you doing here?" (F/N) asked as the other woman engulfed her in a warm hug and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Oh, I just came to see my two closest friends finally tying the knot."

"Weren't you supposed to be on an Expedition?"

"Yes. We would leave in two hours."

"Oh."

It was a cool and nice day, perfect for both a wedding and an Expedition. And of a nice little stroll outside.

"(F/N), would you mind if I talk to you for a while?" Hange asked as she gestured at the gazebo on the garden right beside the old stone church.

(F/N) shrugged her head and followed the woman towads the gazebo.

Hange remained silent until they reached the place she indicated, and when she finally shared the reason of her presence right before their wedding despite of her hectic schedule as the new Commander, (F/N) fervently wished she just stayed in bed and not get up.

"(F/N), this might be our last Expedition." Hange began.

"Why?!" (F/N) asked, alarmed of the gravity on Hange's voice.

"Listen: I think we know who the Armored and the Colossal Titans are."

"What?! Are you serious?!"

"Yes. We are planning to ambush them while they were trapped outside the Walls with nothing but mindless Titans and a full load of traps. Of course, we laid out a plan to prevent them from transforming. But, that does not guarantee our Soldiers' safety. Some, no, most of us would surely die in this mission."

"No, no, no, Hange! You can't be serious!"

Hange just smiled and gave her another warm hug.

"Sadly, I' am. I wish I was joking, but I think this is goodbye."

At the mention of that dreaded word, tears began falling down (F/N)'s face. She tightened her hold on Hange, not wanting to let her go. But, the woman noticed this and pried her free witout much of an effort.

"I'll be stationed together with Levi and his new Squad at the front. We'll be the first ones to retaliate should our initial plan fail."

"Levi?"

"Yes." Hange took (F/N)'s lace - gloved hands into her own and held them so tightly,...

... like she would never see each other ever again.

"I wish you well, (F/N)." Hange said. No, not those words, again!

"Hange, wait!"

"Goodbye, (F/N)." the bespectacled woman uttered, leaving her there alone in the gazebo.

The moment was still in her mind as she somehow made her way towards the massive entrance of the church together with Jonas, who was looking very handsome in a dark suit and tie. The boy, despite his strong opposition, was asked to walk (F/N) down the aisle in the absence of her own father. She didn't even hear the organ as it started playing in the background. She was only brought back to reality when Jonas took her left arm and latched it unto his right.

"Come on, Lord Smith is waiting for you." Jonas whispered to her, effectively calling her attention.

(F/N) was startled upon realizing that she was finally walking  down the aisle of an old church for real and not in a dream. Right there on the altar was Erwin, looking so devastatingly handsome in a white suit and tie, but with a solemn look on his face. It was then that (F/N)'s visions of Levi wearing a black suit came back in her mind, of him waiting for her at the altar,...

... of him and her welcoming a beautiful child in their arms,...

Then, the sweet vision was suddenly transformed into a violent one as blood flashed through her mind, of half - eaten Soldiers who fought and lost, of Eren's Titan form losing the battle against the Armored Titan,...

... and of Levi's lifeless form amidst mountains of corpses.

(F/N) gasped in fear at what she just saw and almost never noticed it when Jonas finally handed her to Erwin.

"(F/N)?" Erwin said. "Are you alright?"

The girl's mouth slightly dropped open as she looked up at Erwin. She might be willing to go to the altar with him, but he knew full well that her heart wasn't.

"I'm, ahh - "

Erwin sighed. He knew his suspicions to be a fact: (F/N) really was still in love with Levi.

"(F/N), look at me." Erwin whispered to her. The small crowd of their closest friends and witnesses were already getting confused as to what was happening between the two of them.

(F/N) looked up at him, but she couldn't stop her tears from falling. The sight stabbed Erwin right in his heart.

"H-he,..." she hesitated for a while, then finally managed to be truthful to him. "He said goodbye, Erwin. I'll - I'll never see him again,..."

The crowd noticed it as (F/N) began crying. However, despite the confusion of the others, Claire knew that her precious grandchild was finally accepting the truth - that she could never, ever, abandon the person she truly loved the most.

Erwin knew this, as well, as he took (F/N)'s hands and led her outside the church, which made the guests, and even Delilah, herself, stand and witness the growing drama right before their eyes.

"Erwin, where are you taking me?"

Erwin smiled at her. "Outside."

"What?"

(F/N) was still asking this until they really arrived outside the church.

"Why are you doing this?" (F/N) asked him as the man took out a small box from one of his pockets and handed it to her. She looked at it, then stared right back at him. "What is this?"

"It was meant as a birthday gift." Erwin confessed. "I contemplated whether I should give it to you or not, and I took long enough. I was, instead, going to give you this after our wedding, but you should have it, anyway."

"Wait, you're - ?"

(F/N) didn't say more, but the look and smile on Erwin's face told her everything she wanted to know. He was letting her go, again.

"Erwin, you didn't have to - "

"(F/N), listen to me." Erwin said. "I understand perfectly. Now, don't mind me and go after him. He'll leave within an hour, you must hurry."

"But, Erwin,..."

"Go now, (F/N)." Erwin said then noticed Jonas waiting for the two of them. He turned towards the teenager and said, "Jonas, could you get her there in an hour?"

The boy grinned and flexed his muscles. "Are you kidding me? We'll get there in thirty!"

Erwin turned once more to (F/N) and gave her one last warm hug. "I want you to be happy, (F/N)."

"Erwin,..."

"I love you." he whispered to her, then practically threw her towards Jonas. "Go now, before it is too late!"

"Wait!" (F/N) uttered as she tried to remove the engagement ring from her finger, but was stopped by Erwin when he took her hand and covered it gently with his own.

"Please, keep it." he said. "As a remembrance."

"But - "

"I insist."

"Let's go, you idiot!" Jonas exclaimed as he took (F/N)'s arm and led her to his horse, leaving Erwin alone.

The lonely man watched as the two of them rode towards the town to go after Levi. Little did he know that someone was spying on him.

"You really are stupid, you know that?"

"I know, Delilah." he answered his sister, who made her way towards him, together with Hange, who was supposed to be on the top of the Legion's formation right now. IF there really was an Expedition.

He noticed the look of amusement on Hange's eyes, then smiled dejectedly at her.

"Did you expect me to believe that there really is an Expedition?" he asked Hange.

"Well, two can play at the mind games." the woman replied, then winked at him. "But, you know, we really do have solid leads regarding the real identity of the Armored and Colossal Titan. We just want someone to stitch out some proper plans for the ambush."

"And you expect me to say yes?"

"What else?" Hange said, then grabbed the tall man's shoulders. "You can always go back, you know. We still need you, Commander."

"She's right, you know." Delilah urged on further with a wicled grin on her lips. "You might not to be cut out for this whole lovelife thing, but you might BE for this particular ambush, whatever that is."

Erwin smiled, then laughed at the two women and at himself for being so smart, yet so gullible.

"I could never understand you, women."

"It would take you a whole lifetime before you do, brother."

***

~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @chocolate-mmilk , @nerdyphantomlady , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @super-peace-fangirl , @fangurl-ontgeside , and @emilyackerman78 . 💜

***

💜💜💜

***

[etastra]

wanted dynamics !

under the cut are some dynamics i’d like for each of the 13 ! some are romantic, some antagonistic, some platonic, some a combo, some can turn platonic/romantic, etc.

jiwon

someone that is his go to for destressing - and no, not through sex, but through massages & a regular self-care day/night. jiwon often ignores his cosmicness til it feels like his skin is fit to burst, and he always remembers his humanity through something grounding like that.

first love !! jiwon’s first love was in middle school, a year or so after he reached awareness, and they were the first person who he told All about the stars and about his super cool memories/powers. it’s childish and sweet and innocent, and it could be the same, could be completely new, could be nothing more than fond childhood memories

follower ? brother ? neither ? give jiwon someone who actually knows what he is. not who but what, as in someone who still worships the 13 like the old gods they are, or who grew up hearing stories about the 13. give jiwon someone who Knows, and someone he can be himself around, someone he can ask for help in finding his kin

youngsoo

artist rivals !! youngsoo is the epitome of snobby art student, who can quite proudly boast his work pieces have been displayed in local exhibitions and scrutinized/praised by critics. give him someone to challenge him artistically, someone he appreciates because of the challenge, someone he can’t help but respect as a result

if not artist rivals, give youngsoo a critic ! someone so harsh and unforgiving that youngsoo is determined to prove them wrong, to show that his artwork is more than the elementary vivid array of colors it’s always called, that he is more than the harsh words thrown at him.

junseo

good/bad influence ! junseo is an alcoholic, which means this could go either way - someone helps junseo open up about the source of his issue and is another beneficiary & positive influence, or they’re his go to for partying, for drinking, for binging til he blacks out

trainees/idols that knew his sister - his sister that died in a car crash which gave him his stutter, that was close to debut, whose death is the reason he drinks so much and he basically ran away from a home full of incomplete memories. maybe they asked his parents for his info to catch up, to find closure of their own in junseo. this could be anything !

aoyun

hobby buddies !! aoyun, as much as he is in utter love with the stars, is also fascinated by the humanity in hobbies. the utter care & focus people give to one hobby, to developing a craft. and so when he’s not stargazing, when he’s not working, when he’s filled to the brim with a wonder and fascination befitting of the stars, he’s picking up every hobby out there. and fortunately, or unforunately for your muse, they’re dragged along

hojin

fwb & unrequited love (?). hojin has never been able to distinguish between platonic and romantic love, sharing affection so freely that people have given him looks with how shameless & giving he is of it. so give him one of his friends he’s fallen into bed with one night, who have a thing together, who don’t put labels because, as hojin always says, ‘who needs labels for fun’

fan and content creator interactions ! hojin regularly puts out animated shorts & clips, of what-ifs from movies & shows & books & games. and maybe your muse has been following him for some time, and finally reaches out. and hojin knows his animations are enjoyed but to this extent ? he’s so starstruck himself that he’s going to eagerly keep reaching out !

kyungmin

apartment neighbor plots ! literally anything but romantic/sexual plots ! give me kyungmin constantly saying hello by leaving a plate of freshly baked cookies, or a container of still warm soup on your muse’s doorstep without ever saying hello. give me kyungmin slipping notes under their door because he speaks slow & soft & quiet and would rather write than speak. give me eventually meeting & becoming friends ! literally anything and everything

hosung

pen pals !!! hosung has always had trouble making friends, ever since he was sent to public school and was shunned for his parents’ deep pockets. so he took to the internet, took to coding, to hacking, to pass the school years by. and along the way, he’s made a friend, one who is probably across the world, one who knows he suffers from chronic night terrors and is a walking corpse half the time. but oh, would ya look at that, they live in the same country, the same city!

'i’m no one, i didn’t do this !’ uh-oh, hosung takes a job that he doesn’t think twice about, that is just a paycheck to feed his cat and keep the lights on at home. but the person who asks him to hack & deliver classified files ( whether it’s your muse or an NPC ) turns on him and suddenly hosung is on the run. or he’s trying to prove his innocence. this poor, sleep-deprived boy just wants to get through his life simply, and yet he’s thrown headfirst into the dark underbelly of the world

daeho

childhood friends !!! whether his best friend from elementary school or one of his close friends from before, who can recognize how wildly different he is now, who only remembers him as a happy go lucky kid. so who the hell is this uncaring, mask-wearing guy ? what happened to daeho ?

partner in crime ! daeho doesn’t partner up often, if at all, but he’s a greedy thing and can never say no to a guarantee score. maybe your muse is just the perfect partner, one of the only ones daeho will seek out again for another crime, something bigger & bolder & grander ( bonus points this turns bonnie & clyde esque uwu )

minjun

occasional collabers ! minjun is a busker, most time, and can only earn so much money with just his soft crooning vocals and his adequate guitar playing. so give him another busker, one who dances while he sings, one who plays other instruments. hell, give him a crew of buskers that he joins or forms until they become their own thing

odd time job friends ! busking only provides so much, so minjun takes up odd jobs everywhere they’re available. maybe they met while doing the graveyard shift at some tiny mart that doesn’t even need one night guard, let alone 2. or maybe they met when the pizza place sent out 2 delivery people. or maybe they always take the same shifts

someone in the idol life ! a scouter, a CEO, a trainee, an idol, a manager, anyone ! give me someone who saw minjun sing, who knew he’d be good for stardom, who is having the damnedest time trying to scout minjun because minjun doesn’t want to be famous like that. he doesn’t want to be an idol, he refuses

chunyu

looking for: model ! chunyu’s muse, chunyu’s inspiration, chunyu’s subject. give him a close friend who models for him, who he helps reach fame and grander connections all thanks to his camerawork, his mind

looking for: hiking/exploration partner ! chunyu’s muse comes from beyond people, from beyond humanity, stemming from nature and its beauty and its intricate idiosyncrasies. he gets so lost in exploring that he winds up bruised easily, so please save this photographing loser from bruising himself further

looking for: best friend :( his go to, the one he always turns to when parents are asking if he’d change his mind and decided to join their organization, the one he always takes to charity galas when his boyfriend isn’t free, the one who knows how much he wants to be a good son and not the sure disappointment he must be to parents who wanted him to be a philanthropist like they

kwangsu

carefree to kwangsu’s stressed - kwangsu rarely lets his hair down, so to speak, too stressed about law school, about becoming a lawyer as soon as he can, about his studies. so give him a close friend who can coax him to relax, who takes him out to carnivals and amusement parks just to see him laugh genuinely. and maybe his stress & studious habits rub off a bit

choi kwangsu, that name is awfully familiar.... give me someone who recognizes his name from old newspapers, from that one case of a corrupt lawyer whose shady dealings lead to his only son being kidnapped. maybe your muse is the kid of one of those shady people, maybe your muse is the kid of the officer who rescued kwangsu, maybe your muse is just a fan of old crime cases

hyunjun

streaming buddies ! hyunjun’s a growing twitch streamer and always features friends in his streams. maybe your muse is a friend he coaxed into joining one, or maybe your muse is another streamer that fans asked for a collab, or maybe your muse and hyunjun has started up a playful rivalry

frat bros ! frat bros for life, frat bros ride or die together. honestly, hyunjun is super close with his big and grand big in the frat house, and he’d be utterly lost in college if not for them taking him under his wing. give him his big, his grand big, give him one of his other frat bros

opposites attract, sorta ? hyunjun is the chillest frat bro you will ever meet, and a major social butterfly to boot ! he has friends in what feels like every major, every grade, hell even in the other frats and sororities. so give me a muse who is the opposite of frat bro, someone that hyunjun goes to for help with anything not video game development related, or who always study together, or who became friends b/c hyunjun was drunk that one time and tried making pizza rolls and set off the fire alarm

insu

a regular - insu never takes regular customers, enjoying the change of pace, enjoying the presence of different hands on his body, enjoying the comfort and security and sick fun in dropping someone whose time and money isn’t worth it anymore. but maybe your muse has thick pockets that insu is only too eager to dip his fingers into. or maybe your muse has his most recent of addictions in easy access, both easy encouragements to sticking around.