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littlerequiem · 24 days

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we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 1

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Explicit Content, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Switch Levi (WC: 6.7k)

( Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

The first time you see Levi, whispered-about-thug and recently-enlisted Scout, you think he doesn’t seem as scary as everyone paints him to be. Sure, he has a hell of a glare, but that’s not the thing that sticks out.

No, what is most striking is the loneliness.

How alone he looks, shadows like bruises under his eyes.

Levi is lost.

He’s not lost in the physical sense, of course.

Levi very well knows where he is. He has repeated these words to doctors so many times he’s starting to sound like a broken record: My name is Levi Ackerman. I come from Paradis Island. I live in Marley.

No, Levi isn't lost physically.

Rather, Levi is lost in the ways often described in novels. Those cheap-thrill books Erwin liked to read so much, the kind that ensured suspense and chest-clutching moments. Usually, it involved a character going on a journey and finding the thing they lost.

“It’s all a metaphor, you see?” Erwin once pointed out.

But Levi did not see the point of metaphors back then, and he certainly doesn’t get it now.

Levi was a soldier for most of his life: so that he could aid the fight against titans, so that Erwin’s vision to help humanity could come true, so that Hange would not be alone in shouldering the weight of it all, so that the world would not crumble under Eren’s actions.

Now, three years after the Battle of Heaven and Earth, his body is changed, and his mind… well, that's the thing that’s lost, isn’t it? He’s still sane, he knows that, but… there's ways he feels himself slipping.

The first two years after the Rumbling were by far the hardest. There was so much to rebuild, so much to do. Levi spent most of his time in makeshift hospitals and infirmary tents. Then, there were the refugee camps. People who had lost everything, who were in search of a new home, but who lacked the means to do so (Levi never thought he’d have to witness the sight of starving children all over again).

And then, one day, a new start.

Onyankopon was the one who discovered Mare a year ago. He told Levi that it would be the perfect place to retire from his soldiering days. "Mare," Onyankopon said, "is the town where sky meets the sea."

Levi isn’t sure what to make of that idiom: there’s no such thing as a place where sky and sea connect. Another metaphor, perhaps—another thing that flies right above his head.

But he decided to take Onyankopon's proposal there and then; Levi had been idle for far too long, and there was still fire in him, a will to push on.

To keep going, just as he had in the past.

A month later, Levi moved into his new home.

His one-story cottage is located by the edge of town, overlooking a cliff that descends into sandy shores. It is far enough from the crowds, just the way Levi likes it, while still remaining close to all necessities—just ten minutes away from Onyankopon's home.

Aside from that, everything else is just… strangely ordinary.

Because Levi now has a roof over his head. He has a garden, where he grows herbs. A patio, where he watches sunsets. He gets money from Marley for his so-called war accomplishments (accomplishments is a strange word for murder, he thinks). He sees doctors, all kind of doctors—specialists that didn't exist back on Paradis.

What keeps him going through it all are his routines. Levi has always been a creature of habit, and that much hasn't changed in his new life.

There’s tea, for one. Despite all the special blends available here in Marley, Levi still prefers the tea he drank back in the Underground, made from cheap black tea leaves—over-extracted, with no added sugar. Piss water, Kenny used to call it, and maybe the old geezer had a point. The tea is bitter to its core, much too strong for anyone to stomach (“I’m going to be on the shitter for days after this,” Hange once declared after trying it.). And yet, Levi likes it this way.

There’s his knife, the one Kenny gave him decades ago. Levi still keeps it in his boot or tucked under his pillow. He doesn’t hold it out of sentimentality per say; Levi just doesn’t see the point of throwing it away.

Levi sees his doctor on a weekly-basis, and works part-time at the local carpentry shop. He tries to improve his body on a daily basis, even if his mind fights him hard against it. His leg hurts most days; it’s at its worst when it rains. Over the last year, he’s regained some of his mobility, enough that he can sometimes walk using a cane when his legs aren't too stiff, though most days, he uses a wheelchair. It frustrates him, sometimes, his reduced range of mobility—he misses pushing his body to the limit—but the physiotherapist ensures him that he is just where he needs to be. He feels coddled, and that annoys him.

Then, there are the people in his life. Scarce as they are, they are all that is left of his past and Levi clings onto scraps of conversation where he can find them.

Most of the brats of the 104th are living their own lives. Levi is relieved to see that. When the war ended, he worried that they would linger too much, but they never did. They moved on.

Falco and Gabi, rowdy kids they are, travel from Liberio to see him. They tell him about what they’ve been up to, how Falco is taking flying lessons, how Gabi is part of a youth association that’s going to make Marley a better place, and Levi listens. For Gabi and Flaco love to talk, and perhaps even more than that, they love to bicker. Levi thinks if there’s such a thing as religion, that these gods clearly have a strange sense of humor—making him watch teenagers and their clumsy flirting attempts all over again. But they’re good kids, and Levi looks past their worse transgressions because he knows he’s got a soft spot for them.

Onyankopon is another familiar face—a talkative one at that. Every time the man stops by Levi's house, he brings something new to show Levi. Sometimes, it feels like Onyankopon's on a personal mission to get Levi up to speed with the new world. Coffee, typewriters, vinyl players… there doesn’t seem to be a thing Onyankopon doesn’t want to show him.

All these machines are met with a somewhat lukewarm reception on Levi’s part.

All except one.

Because if there's one invention Levi is inclined to think is useful, even if a part of him equally loathes it, it's the telephone. Onyankopon was ecstatic about it, and his enthusiasm eventually rubbed off on him too. It's not that Levi likes to use it—the sound waves, the grated voices… they remind him of the sound of planes and machines, of war and guns, and that gets his heart palpating to the point where he sweats (because Levi’s learned that with his growing age, his body sweats faster than ever before, so much so that Levi sometimes has to wash twice a day).

But the first time Levi hears a familiar sound—your voice—on the receiving end of the telephone, his breath stops. His clammy fingers tighten around the phone, and he glances at Onyankopon, who only gives him a thumbs up in response, two dimples appearing on his lifted cheeks.

Levi decides then that the telephone might not be so bad after all.

“Levi,” your distorted voice sounds from the other side. “Can you hear me?”

At first, Levi doesn’t know what to say. He’s seen phones, of course; he remembers Hange using them to communicate with Zeke and the Azumito clan. But he never thought he’d use them personally, and that makes his brain go blank.

“Shit, I think I lost you,” you say, the sound of crumbled papers resonating across the line, “Jean, I think the tele-thing you gave me isn’t working properly. Can you—”

“Hey.” Levi’s voice bleeds into the machine, rough like sandpaper. “I can hear you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I wasn’t using this correctly. Gee, isn’t this just unbelievable? Onyankopon promised me he’d work to set up a phone line in your house, I’m so glad it worked! I know these things are costly but, you know, at least we get to talk, even if it’s brief. Of course, I’ll still write you letters on top of that! And hey—Levi, are you still with me?”

He almost smiles. “Yeah, dumbass. You’re the one going on a monologue.”

“I’m just excited! Can you blame me? I haven’t heard your voice in… a long time.”

Levi’s heart jolts in his chest, clinging to the fact that you’re excited to hear him, but mourning the time passed since he last heard your voice. He’s all aware of how long it’s been (347 days, by his account).

“I can’t wait to see you next month,” you add in a lower voice, as if you were trying to whisper into the phone, words only meant for him to hear. It makes them all the more precious. “I’ve… missed you, 'Vi.”

Levi’s throat feels thick at he hears your familiar nickname for him. His mind buzzes with words, words he has long thought about, words he wishes he could tell you.

I’ve missed you too. I want to see you again. Please come back to me.

All things he thinks to himself, but doesn’t say out loud.

Instead, he manages a breathy, “Yeah,” because more feels impossible right now, especially with Onkyankopon so close by.

Besides, he wouldn’t want you to hear those words over a machine. Communication tool or not, it still lacks the physicality Levi desires so badly.

“How are the brats doing?” Levi asks instead.

“Oh, they’re good! Armin cut his hair recently. He looks like a blonde mini-you or err… I suppose he’s taller than you now.” If you were standing by his side, Levi would definitely have glared at you. But you chuckle, oblivious to his souring mood. “Guess he always did admire you a lot; I think he’s learned a thing or two from your leadership style.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Doesn’t glare at everything that moves like you, though.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “Still haven’t lost your shitty sense of humor, I see.”

“Hey, you always found me funny.”

“I never laughed.”

“But you always found me funny—I could always tell.”

“Delusional thinking can get you a long way.”

“Anyway.” You huff with an indignant tone. “Aside from that, Reiner and Connie have changed a lot too! Reiner is still pining over Historia…”

“Disgusting. She’s a married woman.”

“Yeah… weird, right? I keep telling him to move on, he’s got so much going for him now. But he’s hopeless like that, they all are. Besides that… well, Jean grew his hair! Think he’s secretly trying to impress someone. He’s applying pomade and everything.”

He hears the sound of muffled protest, “I am not, Doc,” blending with your sentence. It is followed by your hearty laugh as you seemingly tell Jean to bugger off.

“That aside, they’re all good. Growing into real adults, you know? It feels like yesterday I was doing their first medical checks... just stupid teenagers. Your old Levi squad, huh?”

The second Levi squad, he wants to correct.

“Yeah, sounds like they’re still a real handful,” Levi mutters.

You chuckle. A comfortable silence follows, one that reminds of old times—you and him sitting in front of the fireplace; him reading his reports, you drawing. The cracking of the phone lines almost sounds like splitting logs now, and Levi feels warmth spread from his lower belly to his torso.

He hears your breath through the phone, like you were leaning closer. “Hey, so… less than a month, yeah? You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I told you already, didn’t I?”

“Because if it’s too much, you can still say no.”

“Adler, I promised I’d take care of you all, and that’s gonna be the case until I’m buried below ground.”

“Don’t speak like that, Levi! It’s morbid.” Levi hears the sound of your laughter again, ringing across the phone line. He wonders if your eyelids are crinkling, the way they always do when you laugh too loudly. “But, hey, thanks. I really appreciate your help, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder what it is like, your new life.”

“S’nothing special.”

“Sounds to me like you’re still selling yourself short.”

“And sounds like you’re still talking nonsense.”

After a year of not seeing each other, you are finally coming back to Marley.

You are finally coming back to him.

Levi wonders what you will think of all the ways he’s lost.

Section Commander Erwin Smith seeks you out in the infirmary. Says there’s a wound he wants you to check, one he supposedly got during the last expedition.

You don’t tell him that titans don't usually cause hand wounds.

“I have the new recruit’s file here. You might have seen him around. His name is Levi,” Erwin says after some time. You give him a succinct nod. “I’d like for you to keep an eye on him.”

You pause, eyes shifting away from your stitches. Erwin’s gaze is even, clear.

“What do you mean by that, sir?”

Erwin leans back in his chair. “Presently, Levi is flighty and hot-headed. He’s just lost his friends. And he refuses to get a medical check. As it stands, this won’t work—I need to know that his condition is stable to place him on my squad.”

“With all due respect, most of these duties you’ve listed fall outside my medical jurisdiction.”

“I know.”

You raise a brow. Erwin shoots you an eyeless smile. You finish the stitch. Erwin pulls his hand back, admiring your work, then his focus shifts back onto you.

Waiting on your answer.

You finally supply him with one, sighing, “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

Erwin stands, interlinking his arms behind his back. “I should tell you he’s from the Underground. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir." You stand up as well. "Though… knowing this, permission to speak my mind?”

“Please.”

“May I ask what’s so… special about him? If rumors are to be believed, you went through quite the trouble to get him.”

“I didn’t think you listened to gossip, Dr Adler.”

“I don’t. But if that wound on your hand speaks for the labors of your efforts… well, I think I have cause to worry.”

A low hum vibrates out of him. “What’s so special about Levi, you ask?” Something lights up across Erwin’s face. The intensity of the pendulum swinging his way. It is followed by the type of smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “I want to believe Levi can change the fate of humanity.”

Today is the day.

The morning shines brightly over the little town of Mare, an endless cerulean that speaks of summer and new beginnings. The sun peaks over the horizon, lingering where the sky meets the sea, a ripple of lavender and peach glimmering over the reflection of the water.

At this time of the day, the wind is at its strongest, a breeze that blows the long strands of grass to one side. Beyond the valleys, there's footsteps dotted across white beaches, only to be ushered out of existence as the waves rolls in.

Mare. Home.

This little town was nothing but fire and dust three years ago. Today, everything has changed. Houses have been rebuilt, trees replanted, and life has begun sprouting again.

Levi wonders what you will make of it.

He spent the first hours of the day cleaning his one-story house from floor to ceiling—a painful undertaking for him, nowadays. The cleaning material stings his bad eye; the positions he has to adopt to clean makes his leg hurt.

But cleaning has always helped to ground him, and that much hasn’t changed here.

Luckily, he wasn't alone in his task.

“Yo, Levi! You ready?” Onyankopon calls out. The man came early to help Levi get the house ready; he’s now come to drive Levi to the train station.

“Yeah.”

Levi grabs his favorite cane, an elegant stick made of thick wood from up north. For the occasion, he’s wearing his nicest navy suit, silver cuff-links, and a matching hat—a gift from you, something you bought him the day the Survey Corps first set foot in Marley. You thought it suited him and Levi’s inclined to agree: he doesn’t look half-bad.

The drive to the train station is uneventful and quiet. Onyankopon asks him if he is nervous, which Levi vehemently denies. His friend just smiles after that with a knowing look like he knows better, but beyond that, he leaves Levi space to gather his thoughts.

Levi is glad of that. He needs the silence to gather his thoughts.

After a year of not seeing each other, he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely.

Will you be happy to see him?

It’s ridiculous, really, all this uncertainty. In all his years as a captain, Levi never stopped to linger on hesitations, on regrets. No matter what it was—grief, rough expeditions, political coups—he trusted Erwin; he trusted his comrades. Levi trusted himself.

That it would be you, now of all times, who makes him this nervous, seems a strange twist of fate. Perhaps it is his growing age that has turned him into a sentimental fool, perhaps it is the knowledge that it is you, perhaps it’s because Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with himself... but Levi feels restless.

It took Levi by surprise, your letter. Three months ago to the day. Can I stay with you, Levi? you'd written. Just for a little while, until I figure out what it is I want to do next.

You were gone for a year, helping the Alliance become delegates of peace, while still updating Levi on everything. Now, Armin and the rest are ambassadors, and Levi no longer needs you letters—he gets to read all about their exploits in the newspaper.

And yet, he's glad you never stopped writing to him. Levi will never admit it, but he’s kept every single one of your letters in a box under his bed.

Yeah, old age has turned him into a real sap.

Following all of this, it was decided: of course you could stay with him. Yes, he would help you. When it came to you, there was little Levi wasn’t prepared to do.

With Falco’s and Gabi’s help, Levi made sure everything was well-suited for your arrival. He purchased a bed, a night table, and a wardrobe. He built you a desk, with the help of his boss at work. All of it was arranged into the spare bedroom of his house.

Levi remembers Gabi teasing him. “Is she your sweetheart, Mr Levi?”

Levi scowled at the teenager. “No.”

“S’just, it’s an awful lot for an old comrade.”

“Shut up, nosy kid.”

But Gabi raised a point. What were you to him, exactly?

Levi doesn’t know the answer to that question, not exactly. He considers all the people he’s cared about in his life, and he still falls short in finding the right word to describe what you are. He cares for you, that much he knows—he’s cared for you for a long time. It isn’t the same care that he feels when he thinks of his mother, of Isabel, of Furlan, but it’s just as deep. Love, some might call it, but Levi has seldom witnessed it, so he doesn’t know what to make of his feelings.

He supposes if he had to label what the two of you are, it’s connected. Remnants of an old system, a memory of a past when all that mattered was reclaiming the Walls. Two survivors who carry the legacy of those who sacrificed themselves for the cause.

Not that defining it truly matters. Levi’s long accepted his role as the one to carry the torch. He has found stability and peace this way.

Only, Levi wants more for you. Even if it means being far away from him.

Yes, it will have to mean being far from him, won’t it? He’s too broken for it to be any other way. He knows that. And yet, it doesn’t stop that tiny wisp of something he sometimes feels in his heart at the thought of you—like air, it fills his lungs, begging to be ignited (if you would choose him, he thinks it might).

But Levi’s life was always that of water, and he knows he will drown you if you come too close, like everyone else he has cared about.

You glance at the injury on his forearm, gushing red. Those damn cadets, ganging up on the new recruit. Erwin’s gamble won’t pay off if everyone else is hostile to his new prodigy.

“Hey. It’s Levi, right?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to yours and you realize it's the first time you're up to close to him. His eyes are striking. Freezing gray, like pale moonlight.

“Who the hell are you?” he mutters with a deep baritone.

You give him your full name. “But I actually prefer to be called by my last name, Adler, if you don't mind.” His face stays blank. You sigh. “Listen, Levi, I don’t want to butt into your private affairs... But I just came to tell you this: any injuries you sustain, just come to me, alright? I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, or if you have to drag yourself across snow. Because... the only death I accept from a Survey Corps soldier is that of titans. Anything else is unacceptable. Okay?”

"Please. Those cowards were outclassed. They only landed a hit 'cause they played dirty."

"Even so. Don't let that deter you from seeking help," you say. "That said, you have my word. Those cadets will be punished for what they did to you."

“Yeah, whatever.” Levi glances at your hands for some reason— transfixed by the way you press on his wound with a clean cloth. “So, what, you’re a doctor? You heal people?”

Your lips tug into a half-smile. “I certainly try.”

The train groans as it comes to a stop. Levi knows you dislike trains; even on Paradis, when Hizuru helped to install train tracks across the island, you had blanched at the idea of riding in one.

So Levi isn’t too surprised to see you step out of the train carriage on wobbly feet, your face a little grayer than he remembers it to be. He takes a step forward, walking into the smoke hissing from the train, avoiding the throngs of travelers passing by. He removes his hat, just to make it easier for you to recognize him.

As soon as you do, your expression lifts.

That smile.

Levi could see your smile for the rest of his life and never tire of it. He hasn’t seen it in a long time, and it tugs at his heart, like a bird flapping its wings.

That you choose to run towards him—your travel bag swinging against your hip, arms dangling by your sides—is no great surprise. If there is something he knows about you, it is your never ending supply of excitement. It makes him want to smile back, but his mouth slightly parts instead.

“Levi,” is the first word that greets him, that swirls through the air and fills his lungs. You seem to catch yourself just a breath away from him, rooted to the spot in front of him. Levi blinks, wondering if you were about to hug him. But then you dip your head down, coy amusement on your features. “It’s really you.”

Levi swallows loudly. He can hear his heartbeat climbing to his head, and he wonders if you somehow can hear it too.

“Your hair has grown.”

Oh, that.

Yes, his hair has grown, hasn’t it? In the last month, he’s only kept up his undercut; the top is getting longer now. He knows he should get a haircut, but he's experimenting letting it grow.

“It looks good… it suits you,” you tell him.

The coil in Levi’s stomach tightens. He shields his expression by tilting his head and placing his hat back on his head.

“Hey, um…” you let your voice trail off.

“Just spit it out, Adler.”

His peripheral catches a crooked smile. “Would it be alright if…if I hugged you?”

Oh.

That certainly isn’t what Levi expected you to ask. No, Levi feared there might be something wrong with you, or rather with him. But he didn't expect… that.

In his stupor, Levi is too stunned to say anything, so he manages a nod instead.

(He’s grateful you ask before you touch him—you always ask.)

And unlike your earlier display of excitement, full of frenetic energy, your hands treat him with more care. They interlace gently around his back. Levi feels his chest lock as your fragrance sweeps across his brain. The scent can only be described as one thing... Home. Levi grows stiff, not knowing what to do with his hands, so he just lets them dangle along his body. You stay put just for a few seconds longer, and when you break apart, there’s something akin to relief on your face.

Relief for what, he doesn't know.

Your hands linger on his forearms as you take the sight of him fully in like you were committing him to memory. “Just needed to do that. My brain can’t make sense of the fact that you’re really standing in front of me. Like you’re not a figment of my imagination, you know?”

Levi’s gut reaction is to glance down. He doesn’t want to see all the ways you inspect him, all the ways he falls short of the portrait you have of him.

His face hardens and he takes a step back, sheltering himself from disappointment.

“C’mon,” he mutters. “We’ve been standing here long enough.”

“Alright,” you answer in a tone that’s no less bubbly than before. “Show me home.”

As you walk in tandem, away from the train tracks, Onyankopon comes to greet you. He envelops you into a hug where he lifts you off your feet. You chuckle, patting his shoulders, and when Onyankopon’s eyes find Levi’s, there’s a glint in them that Levi swears is speaking volumes of Onyankopon’s thoughts.

A look that seems to indicate: Should’ve kissed her, you damn fool.

Levi promptly ignores that look. Instead, he sets his glare in an altogether different direction.

The walk back towards the car is painful and slow. Levi tries not to let it show, but coming with his cane instead of his wheelchair really was not his brightest idea. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation shooting up in his leg; his knuckles turn white the more he leans on his cane.

You take notice.

“Is your leg hurting?” he hears you ask.

Levi dismisses your concern with a one shoulder shrug. “S’fine.”

It’s not fine. Levi overexerted himself with cleaning today. The sun is too strong. His leg is stiff.

Despite that, Levi has no intentions of telling you all about that, because you have a tendency to care, to shower him with attention he doesn’t want, and right now, he just can’t deal with it.

You stop right in front of him. “Hey, are you sure? I can—”

“I said it's fine, didn't I?”

Levi's ears are ringing as he steps past you.

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t mean to snap at you just now. He’s just no good at this, don’t you see? Already five minutes in, and he feels like he fucked up.

(It's like there's poison on his skin; Levi wants to peel it off.)

But you don’t even seem to pay his temper any mind, as you hum and turn to look at the train station’s newsstand instead, allowing Levi to swallow his shame. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as you purchase three lemonade bottles, which you hand out to them.

The drive back is filled with more words than the journey here. Onyankopon and you engage in easy conversation, talking about all manners of things—how the 104th brats are doing, how the world is looking three years after everything that transpired, how Onyankopon’s husband and family are faring.

Levi sits in the passenger seat next to Onyankopon while you sit in the rear. That doesn’t stop you from leaning forward, your hands resting on the head of the seats as you talk (“Put your seat belt on, Adler.” “It’s on!”). Occasionally, your fingers even tap his left shoulder, a heads up for you to point to interesting things you notice outside. Levi tries to ignore the sparking sensation that’s engraved in his skin.

(Sometimes, Levi wonders if your touch is actually electric.)

“What about you, Levi?” Levi feels your attention settle on the back of his head, drilling heat into his nape. “What do you make of your new home? Mare, the town where the sky meets the sea.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. And he means it—the town is just that. Fine. “The townsfolk are nosy, you’ll fit right in.”

You hum. “Consider my interest piqued. I can’t wait to see your new life.”

New life. Is it really?

“I’ve never started over. Not like this,” you continue, tone thoughtful now. “I mean, I suppose I did, once. The last time was when I first enlisted for the Survey Corps a decade ago… phew, that brings back memories. I remember the looks I got from everyone then—they all thought me very strange to enroll.”

“That’s because you were a suicidal maniac, enrolling to save the lives of soldiers who’d soon be titan fodder. Normal civilians usually have safer aspirations, Adler.”

“I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, Ackerman.”

Levi huffs at that. The portrait that flashes through his mind is vivid, as were the words that went alongside them: Him, the gangster from the Underground and you, the crazy doctor crazy. A pair of strange misfits, the Survey Corps' gamble.

Now, you are the only survivors of something long gone.

“Oh, Walls!” You’re gasping at something behind him, and Levi glances up to see what you’ve seen. It’s the sea—all shades of blue and as mesmerizing as ever. “This is where you’ve been living? Your descriptions in your letters do not do this place justice.”

“What? You expected me to turn into a poet?” Levi grumbles.

“No, but look at this—ugh! It’s everything. The valleys! The beaches! The bay! This feels just like…” you let your voice trail off, not finishing off your words, but Levi knows what you meant to say.

This feels just like the way it was when we first saw the sea.

And yeah, Levi sees your point. The sea here truly does glimmer like jewels, the way Armin always described it, and the breeze does carry that scent of salt that feels like it’s cleaning the air out of his lungs.

Just like it felt to witness it the first time.

“This must be what paradise looks like,” you say.

And just as they pass a curve of the road, something new comes into view: between the soft clouds, a flying boat appears—not one carrying weapons, but instead, carrying with it the tale of a youth whose only sin was a passion for flying.

The medical check is done in silence.

Levi is underweight. His lack of sun exposure has left his skin and eyesight sensitive. You prescribe things to help, though you think some ailments might be a lifelong battle.

When it comes to checking his heart rate, however, that’s when you realize the full extent of Levi’s upbringing. Levi undoes his shirt and your eyes take in the cost of his survival—Levi’s torso, marred with scars. Some of them seem recent, while others are old, stretched-out skin that tells you enough.

These come straight from his childhood.

Just how much violence has Levi witnessed in a single lifetime?

“So?” Levi asks, looking directly at you. He leans his weight against the door’s frame leading to your bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can redecorate if you like.”

“Why would I do that? This is perfect.”

Levi thinks you might be touched, but he isn’t sure—he was never good at reading your more subdued emotions. Anger, sadness, happiness: those, he can read. Everything in between becomes more complicated, especially with his mind trying hard to convince him that all you see is disgust when you look at him.

You continue to step around the furniture of your bedroom, inspecting it like you are discovering details of a new kingdom. Your fingers fumble over the bed frame. “These bed sheets are my favorite color.”

Levi knows. He picked them for a reason.

(He’ll never tell you as much.)

“There’s drawing supplies in the desk drawers,” he supplies.

He hears it then, the way you suck-in your breath, catching it in the back of your throat. He swerves his attention onto you, only to find you fixing the desk with a stupefied expression.

“You remembered?”

There’s bewilderment in your tone.

Why do you seem surprised? Isn’t this the least you deserve? Levi almost says that there is even more—that he has all your sketchbooks from Paradis, that they were recently delivered by his request. But he abstains from it. He thinks it might be too much right now, though whether it’s too much for him or for you, he’s not sure.

Instead, he just replies gruffly, “It was hard to forget.”

You take a step towards him, eyes softening. “Levi, thank you so much.” You gesture at the room. “For all of it.”

Somehow, those words make Levi want to look away. It isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate you expressing your gratitude, but he’s never known what to do with it served on a silver platter. He prefers to ignore it when he can.

“S’not a big deal.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, glancing towards the carpet on the floor. “Couldn’t let you starve on the streets, now, could I?”

“Hah. I don’t know.” You move to the windows, your fingers winding around the beige curtains. Levi wonders what you think of the softness of the material. “You might be underestimating me. I can be very persuasive; I’m sure I’d manage to survive out there.”

“Please. You wouldn’t last a day out there.”

You scoff, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“You’d want to help some poor fucker giving you puppy eyes, and they’d just end up mugging you.” Or worse.

“Well, alright. You got me there.” You glance away, raising your fingers to run along the scar on your cheek.

Levi follows your movements, studying the way your hands conceal your old injury. He wonders if it still hurts, if you forget it is there only to be reminded of its existence when you catch your reflection in the mirror.

It happens to him, sometimes.

“Seriously, thank you.”

The softness of your tone cradles his ears. Levi takes a step back.

“No need to get emotional on me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle. “Still. Sometimes, it’s good to say things out loud.”

“If you say so.”

Levi turns around, fumbling with the handle of the door to swing it open.

But just as he’s about to head out, to leave you to unpack, there's a clear sound comes from the other side. Levi hears that familiar "Meow," before he sees the tabby cat sliding in between the cracks of the door.

“Oh... what's this?” he hears you stutter behind him.

Right. Levi probably should have mentioned this minor detail in his letters.

“Scout,” he supplies, eying the kitten currently rubbing her head against his right leg, a loud prrr vibrating against his calve. Three months ago, the cat was nothing more than skin and bones. Like a rat. Now, she’s healthy again, her limbs growing quicker than Levi anticipated.

“You… you got a cat?”

"Clearly."

"Like a pet?"

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, tapping a rhythmic beat of five counts against his forearm. “Do you need to get your eyes checked or what?”

You ignore his surly attitude, the same bafflement still present in your tone. “And you named him Scout?”

“Her. She's a female cat.”

You look down at the cat for a moment, your eyes wide like saucers. Then, with a low, hushed tone, you let out a strangled, “Walls, you're a cat dad,” before pinching your lips tightly, like you were trying very hard not to burst out in fits of giggles.

Levi’s jaw instantly clenches. “Stop laughing.”

“I wasn’t laughing!”

“You were about to.”

“Yeah, alright, I was about to.” And then, as if saying those words out loud gave you the right to do as you please, you stifle out a snort, shooting up a hand to cover your half-contained laughter.

This time, Levi doesn’t bother hiding his glare.

Paying this interaction no mind, Scout looks at you with a quizzical stare, her big, green eyes taking you in. Just like you, the feline creature is now discovering the new room and the furniture that goes with it, and she now seems to want to understand what to make of the new occupant that is to share this space.

And so, with a last parting mrrp, the cat skitters towards you, her fast steps tiptoeing against the oaken floor. In response, you crouch down, outstretching a delicate hand in Scout's direction.

With a combination of grace and suspicion that only cats are really able to muster, Scout sniffs your fingers, her slit pupils observing your every movement.

Whatever she was looking for must have pleased her, because not a moment later, she lets out a high-pitched mewling sound and rubs her cheeks against your digits.

A smile forms on your lips.

And when you look back up, there’s a sparkle in your eyes that makes Levi’s heart skip a beat. "Oh, she's cute," you coo, scratching Scout's chin. "How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't ask?"

"I don't speak cat, Adler."

"Oh, right. She didn't have an owner?"

"No. She was alone when I found her."

"Oh."

Levi had found the kitten half-dead under some debris; no one in town knew where she had come from, or how old she was. Most likely, her mother had abandoned her, but it was hard to know for sure.

All he knew is that the kitten had been alone, and that was enough for him to want to help the kitten. Taking her in was only meant to be temporary thing.

And yet, here she still was.

"Well," you interrupt his thoughts, head tilting as you inspect Scout, "I reckon she can't be more than four months old."

Levi lets out a grunting sound, not really knowing enough about cats to refute or agree with your observations. Instead, he half-turns away, grumbling parting words, “I’m gonna make us some tea while you unpack.”

His peripheral catches your hand gently gliding along the cat’s spine. “Your bitter old tea, huh?”

He means to ask if you’d prefer something else, but it comes out all wrong: “Got a problem with that?”

Shit.

Your eyes lock with his.

And your smile widens.

“Not at all. It just feels like being home.”

Levi clears his throat and turns away. Home. Is it really like that?

No, of course, it’s not.

Home doesn’t exist anymore.

And he’s not the same man you once knew.

A/N: This story has been in the works for the last year, and it's been a very precious project for me. This fic seeks to shed some light on Levi's life after the war, with its ups and down - but ultimately, it's a story of love and healing <3 Furthermore, English isn't my mother tongue, so you know the spiel - don't hesitate to let me know if you spot mistakes, but pls be patient!

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

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lucysarah-c · 3 months

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Question, let’s say reader is mid twenties around when the main cast (Eren, mikasa, jean, & everyone else) is around 18-19. Levi has a thing for reader & so does maybe like Connie or one of the other “main cast”, main cast is always egging on Connie (or someone else) to try their shot with reader, but Levi and reader are kinda lowkey becoming a thing / do you think Levi would like intervene or just stay quiet when someone from the main cast is openly flirting / pinning with / for reader? Like would he go into dad mode and be like “that ain’t smart” or just not do anything lol, your head canon of course.

Hi~~ How are you?

Oh, that’s such a great scenario. Especially at that age, you think you’re being subtle, but you’re actually grinning like a fool. I imagine if they’re crushing on her and Levi, she might be a new recruit in the Scouts. Many joined them after the uprising, or she could be working on the train stations they’re building or around the camps set up for foreigners.

She might try not to pay it much mind. If she’s dating Levi, who’s probably in his mid-thirties by now, and she’s in her mid-twenties, then Connie or Jean at 18-19 must look like kids to her. She might think they’re too young and remind herself that many of them have lost their mothers, so they could be seeking a bit of a motherly touch.

But Levi? Levi likely thinks, "I know exactly what was on my mind when I was 18-19, and it had nothing to do with my mother." He probably wouldn’t interfere directly or give them advice. The most he might do is throw out a sassy remark here and there, but nothing more.

I can picture him rolling his eyes at their attempts to flirt with her while she looks visibly uncomfortable. Levi wouldn’t see them as real competition—they’re like his kids, after all. If Jean and Armin are being overly suggestive about what she should do or gossiping about Connie’s practice sessions, Levi might say, "Jean, leave her alone. Unlike you, she has better things to do than bother someone else."

If Connie is being too persistent, Levi might respond with, "She’s trying to work."

And if they’re staring at her too much, he might smack the back of their heads and say, "Stop looking at her like she’s a piece of meat. Be respectful."

Levi’s reactions come mostly from a place of wanting them to have manners and not be creepy. He believes that’s not how you treat a woman. For me is definetly, more "dad mode!" than anything else!

In the end, it might be her who subtly lets them know she’s taken.

Thank you! I really enjoyed this ask—it was fun to think about!

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— the world in your name + eren jaeger.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — in the quiet of the night, eren realises that he'd destroy the world for you. no matter what universe your love may exist in.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, mentions of nightmares, modern!au with some canon references, aot manga spoilers (?), marriage, eren has a son, not beta read ! - fem!reader.

⭑ words — 1.5K.

⭑ notes — hi !! hello its eren's birthday and if you've been on my blog recently you'd know that i'm falling in love w him all over again so... here's a soft lil one-shot for my boy. i miss him, i want him happy again. enjoy! - m.list ✩

“hey, ‘renren. what are you doing out here all by yourself?”

before he even has a chance to respond, you’re slipping a jacket over eren’s shoulders— tucking yourself under his arm since you know that he finds comfort in your body heat.

“nothin’ much,” he leans down to brush his lips over your forehead, taking the time to appease his guilty pleasure as he breathes in the scent of your shea shampoo. “got a little crowded in there. needed the air— plus the stars are out tonight.” he’s making excuses and he has no doubt that you’ll see right through his bullshit. eren can already feel the smile on your face as you bury yourself deeper into his side, your lips brushing up against him from over his clothes.

after a second of selfishly taking him in yourself, you look up— eyes glittering and loving, reading deep into eren’s soul just like they always have, and so easily too. “bullshit.” your voice lays flat but your eyes are amused as you tip toe up to reach eren’s cheek, kissing him there. he finds that cute, that he’s taller than you now and it’s the opposite of when you were growing up. that he’s big enough to protect you where you’d do the same for him as kids. “eren jaeger not wanting to be the centre of attention at his own party? you sick or somethin’ renren?”

“don’t call me that, we’re not kids anymore.” the brunette grimaces even though his heart bristles happily in his chest.

“you don’t even like the stars. you hate being cold.”

“i like them when i’m here.” eren wraps an arm around your waist and turns to face you fully, tugging you into his chest— his forefinger and thumb tilting your head up so he can look at you better. love you a little longer. “with you.”

you roll your eyes, but melt like butter under his touch. “don’t be corny, honey.”

“you love it when i’m corny. you think it’s romantic.” he says and god— there’s that smile again. the one where your eyes crinkle and it raises your cheeks so high, it looks as if you might burst with happiness. your smile, it makes the world turn on its axis, makes the waves it the shore and the leaves fall from trees and mountains crumble into the seas. it fixes everything, it fixes him.

“come back inside, eren. we’re all waiting for you.” your voice is so soft, he can’t help but shut green eyes away as you cup the side of his face with the softness of your palm, letting the tips of your fingers twirl through his chocolate brown locks in a way that makes the stress sag from his body. “our son wants to see you blow out the candles, make a wish before mommy puts him to bed.”

“we’ll put him to bed together. i just—“ eren is so fucking lucky, he’d be a fool not to take that as fact. you’ve given him everything; a happy life, a home, a beautiful son, and all the love he could ever ask for— even after everything he’d been through, everything he’d put you through over the years. he wasn’t the best to you, not always, but you stayed. when his parents died, when the world gave out beneath his feet and he couldn’t stand up on his own. you shouldered his burdens with him even though he wasn’t as half as good to you as he should have been. but he loves you with everything he has and everything he doesn’t.

he sighs in content, brought back to reality when you cup his face with two hands instead of one and he opens his eyes just to see how worried you look. “i’ll be there in a minute. just…stay out here with me for a bit.” eren wraps his hands around your wrists softly, grounding you while you ground him and his unfairly long eyelashes flutter against your gentle palms.

“okay,” you breathe, relieved that he’s back from wherever his mind had taken him. back to you. “another minute. as long as you need, ‘ren.” there’s that pet name again, the one tied to distant memories of summers and melting ice-pops and scraped knees. you’ve known him so long, you still know how to make his heart race and you’d even given him the honour of being called your husband.

eren loves you so much. he wonders if he’s told you that he loves you today or if he’s made you feel as such. you always make him feel loved, you take care of him and your beautiful son a little more than yourself— but he swears he’ll always be there to pick up your pieces if you fall apart like he’s done before. you need looking after too, and eren knows it’s silly but sometimes he holds back on his hurt and anguish because he knows you’ll drop everything to make it go away.

you’re his partner, his wife, his first love, the mother of his child and his equal— but eren won’t let you give away any more pieces of yourself, even if that’s what you’re supposed to do when you love each other. he’ll keep you whole, feed you pieces of himself instead, keep your world spinning because he loves you.

that’s why he doesn’t tell you about the nightmares he’s been having lately. the ones of another world. the ones where he tells you he’d flatten the world for you if you told him to and the one where you look at him as if he’s a monster.

even there, you find it in your heart to love him.

eren doesn’t tell you about the nightmares because he knows that in this life, if he had that same power… he’d flatten the world for you and your son— he’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. rip stars from the sky and buildings along with them, trample the earth until everything has no choice but to start anew. that’s how much he’d sacrifice himself for you, how many pieces he’d give up just to keep your smile the way it is. he struggled to love you with the words he needs, but he hopes to whatever higher being or power is out there that his actions are enough.

because eren jaeger loves you enough to kill the entire world in your name.

in this life and all of its alternatives.

“papa! come! cake time!”

the deep depth of eren’s thoughts is breached by his little son calling out to him from the sliding glass doors on your back porch with a sheepish mikasa in tow. its then that the older brunette pulls his forehead away from yours, a smile settling on his handsome and matured features as he crouches down to welcome his little boy into his arms.

he’s so much bigger than eren had realised, maybe time is slipping away from you both. he’s almost two, has eren’s eyes and his untamed hair, but the face is all yours. that smile, the one eren’s son is giving him is so big and bright and beautiful and it’s all yours. another gift you had given eren, another person to love.

“hey there lil’ man! daddy’s comin’, okay?” eren grins as his toddler clambers into his lap to give him a slobbery kiss and a squeeze— making his head spin with adoration. even more so than hen he feels you come up behind him and rub his shoulder lovingly. “give momma ‘n i a second, yeah?”

“‘mkay!”

the toddler jumps up to hug your legs next, tugging you in the direction of his aunty mikasa with a pout that could rival eren’s. “sorry for interrupting,” she whispers fondly and apologetically. “he wanted to come get you guys, he’s been trying to ward sasha off from eating the cake.”

“well we can’t have that, can we baby?” you coo as if you’ve got the world beneath your fingers— brushing back your son’s hair before you lift him into your arms, holding him close as if you can’t believe he’s real and that eren gave him to you. your little product of love. “let’s follow aunty mika inside ‘n get papa’s candles going. then aunty sasha can have some cake, how’s that sound?”

“good momma! les’ go! les’ go!” he chants excitedly, laughing along with you as you follow mikasa back into the house— away from the cold outside.

and it’s in that moment, that eren finds himself warm— even without you by his side. because you leave him filled with so much joy, so much happiness that he couldn’t ever feel like he was unloved. not even for a second. you and your son, you’re both all that eren has in this world, you’re what ties him to this very existence, what gives him a reason to keep going.

before he can even register it, eren reaches out for you both from his place on the porch— calling out your name before you re-enter the house. “i love you,” he murmurs so softly that he fears his words might have been lost with the sway of the trees in the wind. “both of you. so much.”

but then you smile, that same smile that eren would tear the world apart for and say. “love you too. and, happy birthday, eren.”

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verratensduo · 1 year

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does your muse have a green thumb, or are they a notorious plant killer? what's their experience with plants like? - for both Marco and Eren .

Marco has quite the green thumb. He was most often in charge of the gardens for the cadet corps. Usually the medicinal herb gardens as they didn’t really grow food or flowers on the camp grounds.

Eren is more so a plant killer, he has never been the best with gardens. He slowly got better over time, but he would still sooner shovel the horse stable and feed every horse by hand than work the gardens.

#Eren head canon #Marco head canon

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daisynik7 · 1 year

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“Meet Me Halfway” by Black Eyed Peas - fluff for Jean Kirstein please i BEG i love this song so bad

Meet Me Halfway

Can you meet me halfway? Right at the borderline is where I’m gonna wait for you.

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x reader (gn)

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: red string of fate/soulmates trope, canon universe, canon divergent, spoilers up to Season 4, fluff

Summary: Jean’s red string of fate was loose ever since he was born. It seems like everyone but himself has found their soulmate here on Paradis. It’s only when the scouts finally head towards the sea that his string becomes a little less slack. Could it be that his fated partner is on the other side in Marley, behind enemy lines?

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! I’ve been fascinated by the red string of fate/soulmates trope for a while now, so I wanted to try my hand at it here! This is just a little taste of this, maybe I’ll expand on this story in the future. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/saradika.

The first time they ever see the ocean, they’re speechless, neither of them speaking to one another, taking in the breathtaking view. Cerulean blue shimmers throughout the entire expanse, nearly a mirror image of the clear sky above. It took them a few days to get here and Jean was beginning to doubt just how great this thing called “the sea” could be. He never expected anything like this, though. As if the picturesque scene before him isn’t enough to get his heart racing, for the first time in his entire sixteen years of living, the red string tied around his wrist, only for him to see and feel, finally tightened just the slightest.

The lore behind the red string of fate is no secret among those living in Paradis. Each child is born with it cinched around their wrist; the other end supposedly tied to their soulmate. Jean’s has been slack since he can remember. That is, until now. While it isn’t as taut as some of his other friends, like Mikasa with Eren and now Armin with Annie, only he can tell the difference. It’s been a running joke since they found out the truth about the other side. Connie teases him and Sasha about it constantly. “Maybe your soulmates are in Marley? How does it feel to be bounded to our enemy?”

Sasha, like Jean, has never felt any differences in her rope throughout her lifetime. He turns to face her, pointing to his wrist, curious if she feels the same. Her jaw is dropped, and when she notices him signaling to her, she closes it, gulping loudly, slowly nodding.

When they all dismount their horses to explore the water, Jean momentarily forgets about it, focusing only on how cold the ocean feels on his feet, how salty is tastes on his tongue, how incredibly far it reaches, surely farther than his eyes can see. It’s only after their skin starts to wrinkle that they retreat, sitting on the warm sand instead, watching the waves crash onto the shore. He nudges Sasha. “So, you felt it too, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” she answers, hesitant. She caresses her wrist in her other hand, biting her lip.

Connie butts in. “Felt what?”

“Our strings. They’re a little less loose now that we’re here.”

He smirks. “I told you! Your soulmates are on the other side!”

Jean leans back against his hands, groaning. “I don’t want my soulmate to be on the other side. The other side has been trying to kill us for hundreds of years! This is so messed up.”

Sasha hugs her knees, pouting. “I agree. This sucks.”

Connie pats her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to marry your soulmate, you know. Plenty of people don’t! My parents weren’t soulmates, and they turned out just fine.”

“But you’re planning on marrying Hannah, aren’t you? Once this is all over?” Hannah is a childhood friend from Connie’s hometown, and the two have been in much more contact recently.

He chuckles. “I mean, not right now. But yeah, maybe in the future…”

“So your argument makes no sense!”

“This is different though! If your soulmate really is in Marley, I think the universe will forgive you for not marrying our enemy.”

Jean groans again, staring at the glistening ocean in front of him, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they’re really out there and not here.”

There isn’t much they can do for now, considering they have no means to get to Marley with the current resources they have. Jean buries it in the back of his mind, trying not to think about it while they spend the next month building a base near the shore. They anticipate a Marleyan ship to arrive soon, scoping the island before implementing their attack to capture Eren, the Founding Titan. What the other side doesn’t anticipate is Paradis being prepared to ambush them to carry out their own plan in infiltrating Marley. The first one arrives when they expect it. With Eren’s Titan abilities protecting the rest of them, they manage to capture the ship easily, taking those on-board hostage for questioning. Sasha, who is usually uninterested when it comes to matters not involving food, is surprisingly invested. She watches carefully from outside the tent, waiting for them to be released from their interrogation. Jean accompanies her, unclear about her intentions until she explains to him. “My string, Jean. It’s tight. My soulmate is in there.”

They haven’t talked about it since, both choosing to ignore it for the time being. Jean’s is still as slack as the first day they arrived here, and if he’s being honest to himself, it’s crosses his mind nearly every day. A small part of him wishes he was experiencing what Sasha currently is.

Eventually, a young man with brown eyes and blonde hair steps out, looking terrified. He glances at his wrist, then his surroundings, landing his gaze on Sasha’s, who’s peeking from behind a box. She gasps loudly upon eye contact, kneeling down to hide completely. Jean does the same, not before noticing the man make a similar expression, surely curious.

Sasha doesn’t say anything more about it, though Jean can tell she’s intrigued. A few days later, like fate, the man who they find out is named Niccolo, starts working at the port as a chef. Sasha is smitten as soon as she takes a bite of his food, and from then on, the two are inseparable. Jean can’t help but feel jealous.

With all of his friends acquainted with their soulmates, Jean is growing more and more impatient by the day. It takes over two years for Paradis to organize their first trip to Marley and he’s among the first to volunteer, not only to help the scout’s reconnaissance of enemy soil, but for his own ulterior motive to finally find his soulmate. He doesn’t disclose this to anyone, though he’s certain that his best friends have a hunch.

When they finally arrive to Marley, it’s stimulation overload. They attempt to stick together as soon as they step foot off the ship, though it’s difficult when there are so many new and exciting things to try. It’s especially hard for Jean when he notices his string getting more and more taut with each step he takes deeper into the city.

They all decide to split up momentarily to explore, agreeing to meet back at the port in an hour. Jean and Connie follow Sasha through the crowded streets. She’s being led by her noise and eyes, searching for the tastiest, most delectable looking treats to try upon Niccolo’s instructions. “You have to try ice cream!” he told her days before they departed and it hasn’t left Sasha’s mind since. She sneaks glances at the small note he gave her, trying to match the words he wrote to the storefronts. “There! I see it! An ice cream parlor!” She rushes towards a colorful shop, pushing her face towards the glass window, drooling. Connie drags her towards the entrance, which dings as they walk through. Jean increases his pace to catch up and the string around his wrist is tight now. He scans his surroundings, trying to see what direction the little rope is pointing to. As he follows his friends inside the shop, it’s unbelievable taut now, and he’s certain that his soulmate is inside this ice cream parlor. His heart races, simultaneously terrified and excited to meet you.

~~~

A little over two years ago, you notice the string around your wrist feels heavier on you than usual. You’re often teased about your soulmate being an “island devil” on Paradis, considering you’re the only Eldian left in Liberio without a one. In all honestly, it doesn’t bother you, the idea of your destined partner being on the other side. Even if they are an “island devil”, you’d still like to meet them. After all, you’re soulmates for a reason, right?

You spend several minutes each day sitting at the port, staring out towards the sea, wondering what they are like. You ignore the propaganda that’s been spewed at you since birth and instead fantasize about what their interests are. Do they like the same things that you do? What do you have in common, besides the rope that ties you together? How much taller or shorter are they, what color hair do they have? Do their eyes twinkle with kindness the way you picture they do? Will their smile be as charming as you imagine it? You dream about this for over two years, slowly letting the fantasy fade into the back of your mind before you lose your sanity. It’s easy to obsess over something, but it’s hard to get out of it once it consumes you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll ever meet them at this rate, so you go about your life as usual, distracting yourself from any romanticized ideas of your uncertain love story.

Today, you’re behind the counter of the ice cream parlor you work at. You started working here several months ago, hoping to be near the port in case one day, they arrive. The past few days, you convince yourself it’s just your imagination, the gradual tightening of the string. This morning, it’s tauter than it’s ever been before, and you’re certain you’re not making this up anymore; they’re here, they’re actually here.

There isn’t time to go looking for them yourself, so you begin your shift, itching for the hours to pass quickly so that you can leave to begin your search. Fortunately, you don’t have to. Two people around your age enter the shop first, behaving oddly. They’re dressed normally, though something about them piques your interest. It’s especially alarming at how stiff the string is now, so you inspect each of their wrists carefully, dejected when you don’t see a match. The girl presses her nose to the glass, ogling at the ice cream displayed in the freezer, drooling. Her friend, a boy with a shaved head, tugs her off, apologizing with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about her. She gets a little crazy when she sees something she wants.”

You smile at them. “No need to apologize. Our ice cream is the best in town, so her reaction is understandable. What would you like?”

The girl blurts out, “Everything!”

“Sasha! We don’t have enough money for everything!”

She pouts, eyes flitting across each flavor. “But they all look so good! How am I supposed to decide which one to pick?!”

Feeling generous, you offer, “I can do a sampler platter, if you’d like.”

Sasha’s face brightens. “Really?! You’d do that? How much would that cost? Connie, how much do we have?!”

You wave them off, beaming at them. “It’s on the house. Consider it some good old Marley hospitality.”

They gawk at you, shocked, and it only makes you giggle louder. You retrieve one of your larger bowls and ready your scooper, starting at one end of the freezer. The bell on the front door rings, but you’re too busy to greet the new customer directly. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!”

It’s only now that you realize how stiff the string is, practically quivering now from being pulled so tight. You look up and see a young man staring at you, holding his wrist up with the same red string coiled around him, an uneasy grin on his face. “Hello.”

You almost drop the scooper into the carton, astonished to have finally found him. “Hi,” you say, heat rushing into your cheeks, taken aback at how handsome he is. “Um, let me just finish this.”

“Jean, you’re distracting our new friend here! She’s giving us all this ice cream for free!” Sasha exclaims, salivating over the bowl overflowing with ice cream now.

He smiles at you, running his fingers in his hair. “Sorry. Please, continue.”

It takes you a few seconds to refocus back on your task. Eventually, you scoop all twelve flavors into a bowl, handing it off to Sasha and Connie, who dig in immediately as soon as they sit down. You pass a spoon to Jean. “Would you like to try? Before your friends finish it off?”

He laughs, grabbing it. “I guess I should, right?”

“Or I could scoop your own if you’d like. Which one do you want to try?”

He studies each carton carefully, pointing at your favorite flavor by coincidence. “This one is calling out to me for some reason.”

Your heart beats quicker, amazed by this serendipity. “That’s my favorite,” you admit, getting him a scoop.

“I had a feeling it would be,” he replies, beaming.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirschstein fluff #aot fluff #aot x reader #attack on titan fluff #jean kirschstein x you #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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annievrse · 2 months

Text

i love you, i'm sorry

reiner x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: canon

"so that's it? you're leaving."

reiner freezes in his spot down the hallway. silence passes between you, though the rumble of voices from the meeting room you had just stepped out of fills the void.

the sigh he lets out is deep and tinged with profound fatigue. "go back inside."

"not until you answer me," you shake your head, knowing he can't see you.

reiner glances at you over his shoulder, his eyes are dark with resentment and anger and fear, and you reel back at his look.

"i need to do this," he mumbles, staring out the window on his left. you don't move.

"reiner—"

he pulls your name from the back of his throat. it's strained and weak, and you close your eyes at the pain in his voice. "please."

you shake your head, stepping toward him. "you can't."

reiner refuses to look at you. "i have to."

"you don't!" you yell, tone twinged with laughter. you're sure the rest of the military in the meeting room can hear you, but you don't care.

reiner turns around at the desperation and humour in your voice. he furrows his eyebrows at the latter and tilts his head. "you don't understand."

"don't treat me like i'm naive, reiner," you scoff, ignoring the tear that falls from your eye. "i loved you first, i know you. i know what you're trying to do, and i won't let you."

he mumbles something you can't hear and meets your gaze with a foreign look in his eye. you resist shrinking under his stare and cock your eyebrow.

reiner starts toward you, his footsteps heavy on the rickety floorboards. "stop."

you shake your head, looking up at him when he stops before you. his body is warm against yours, but you make no further movements. your fingers tingle with the raw need to touch him.

"if you truly loved me," you whisper. "you wouldn't go."

something close to a whimper leaves reiner's lips. "that's not fair."

you know it isn't, but before you can reply, he's lifting his hand to wipe your wet cheeks. you can't speak.

"you know what eren's going to do," he mumbles. "i have to stop him."

you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stabbing pain in your chest.

"let me do this for you. let me protect you."

your lips part in confusion. his usual hazel eyes darken with emotion, and you want to smooth out the crease between his brows.

you almost miss the rumble of footfalls behind you, but it's too late when you realise what's happening. he'd known you'd follow him out.

"reiner..." betrayal is written all over your face, and the look clutches reiner by the throat.

"i love you, i'm sorry."

falling to the ground, you can barely feel the sharp rocks that dig into your knees. screams and cries still echo around you despite it being silent. the rushing of blood in your ears blocks out most of your thoughts, but even if it wasn't, you doubt you'd have any but the constant repetition of his name. reiner, reiner, reiner.

a hand on your shoulder breaks the mounting panic threatening to take over. you glance up and see familiar hazel eyes. your body jolts at the sight of warm, honey irises, but they belong to the wrong braun.

"it's over, sweetheart."

you blink. the sun is shining. happy chatter and cries fill the area. you turn your head to the crowd; gabi reuniting with her parents, connie and jean leaning on each other in heartbreak, armin struggling to keep himself together.

you blink rapidly, trying to clear the tears from your eyes. where's reiner?

you clench your fists, resting them on your thighs. panic claws at your closing throat and you can barely get a breath in before a voice you'd only heard in your dreams cracks through your daze.

"mom?"

karina's hand lifts from your shoulder, and you choke on a cry. glancing up, you glimpse short blonde hair. his large arms are wrapped around his mother, and you struggle to your feet. but before you go back down to the dusty ground, firm hands slip under your armpits.

your name is a prayer on his lips. reiner squeezes you into his chest, one hand on the back of your head and the other under your arms. sobs rack your body, and you clench the back of his shirt in your fists, scared if you hold him any less, he'll disappear with the wind.

you press your face into his neck, sniffling. "never do that again."

reiner laughs delicately, the space under your ear wet with his tears. "never again."

sighing deeply, you pull your head back to meet his eyes. your nose brushes the tip of his, and his hair between your fingers is longer than it was the last time you slid your fingers into it.

"shit."

"yeah, shit."

pressing your mouth against his, you can't help but smile at the absurdity of it all.

"i love you," he mumbles against your lips. "i'm sorry."

you shake your head, the corner of your mouth twitching with laughter. "shut up, stop apologising."

"sorry," he whispers, eyes flickering between yours. you laugh wetly and push his head back into your neck.

you press a kiss into his hair. "i love you."

and in fort salta where your friends saved the remainder of humanity, the warm light of the sunset shined upon the finality of two souls intertwining.

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun angst #reiner braun fluff #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #aot x reader #aot imagine

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syoish-aot · 3 months

Text

"I Found You" - EREN/READER - REVERSE ISEKAI (part 4)

reverse isekai, time travel, memory loss

post canon (in a weird roundabout way)

reader/eren

word count: 1411

** note: I edited and moved around some stuff in part 2 and part 3 (that's just how it is when I'm posting rough drafts) so it might be worth going back to reread those parts. The important changes are: they're actually at the soft open of Niccolo's restaurant, Mikasa isn't there yet (because she's flying in from out of town), and I took out the Sasha/Mikasa engagement because I have another idea that works better for later. **

<- PART 3 | PART 5 ->

*****

“The fuck do you mean ‘awake’?” Eren asked after Armin and Jean had immediately pulled him into the bathroom, since it was the only place they’d have some semblance of privacy.

“Eren it’s- um…” Armin stuttered as he began to fiddle with his hands before he turned to Jean. “Y-You should-”

“Already did it.” Jean quickly said as he slid his phone into his back pocket.

Eren scowled. “Did wha-”

Suddenly the door burst open. “I JUST GOT JEAN’S TEXT IS EREN REALLY-” Connie cut himself off as he stood in the doorway- eyes wide, face flushed, staring right at Eren. “...holy shit…” He mumbled.

Eren continued to scowl, still extremely confused.

“Move! Move! Move!!” Sasha pushed past him, causing Connie to stumble out of the way and fully into the bathroom. “I knew it would happen soon! I fucking knew it!! I have a sense for these sorts of things you know. It was the same thing when Jean woke up. I had been craving baked potatoes for weeks and then-”

“Sasha, calm down.” Armin cut her off. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, alright?”

“Overwhelm me with what!?” Eren exclaimed. “Seriously what the hell is-”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Eren?” Armin asked as he placed his hands on Eren’s shoulders and forced the other man to look at him.

Eren’s stomach sank as the memories flooded his vision. Smoke. The stomping of footsteps. Streaming from the people below him. A blade drawn lightning quick.

Falling.

And then nothing.

“I-...” Eren’s head fell as his hands trembled at his sides. “I remember- I remember everything.” His voice hitched. “Everything I did. Everything I forced all of you to do because of it- all those people I killed and-”

“Eren.”

Suddenly Armin’s arms were wrapped around him, pulling him tightly into a hug just like the hug he’d given him the last time they’d seen each other but also-

…also nothing like that at all.

“It’s alright now.” Armin told him softly. “None of that matters anymore.”

Eren scoffed. “How can it not matter?”

“Because none of that happened here.” Armin told him. “We don’t-... we don’t really get it either but for some reason after we all lived our lives back then, we came here.”

“But…” Eren practically whispered. “...where is here?”

“Here is where everyone is alive. Where we’re all together and we don’t have to worry about death or fighting or titans or anything like that. Here we can just-...” Armin pulled away from his friend and smiled at him, eyes glistening with tears. He looked so relieved as he finished his words: “... here is where everyone can live, Eren.”

“Everyone?” Eren asked.

“Yeah.” Armin told him. “Everyone.”

Eren’s eyes moved from Armin to Jean, Sasha, and Connie. Outside of the room there were more people too, more people he knew from his past life that had somehow ended up here. Everyone in the restaurant was someone he’d crossed at some point in his past; someone who, apparently, had memories of that past but understood it was different from where they were now.

Everyone except for one of them.

Except the person Eren didn’t know from his past, and for some reason had only met in the future.

He’d watched you get ready that morning. Smiling and joking around as you filled him in on the most random gossip of the friend group. A group of people that you were apparently a part of. The way you talked about everyone indicated that you knew them well, maybe even as well as he did.

Eren’s eyebrows tightened together in frustration as he thought of you. He had to know: “Then who’s-”

The bathroom door suddenly burst open.

“There you guys are!” You exclaimed. “Not to ruin your secret bathroom meeting or anything, but Niccolo wants to make a toast.”

Everyone’s eyes were locked on you, each one of them resembling a deer in headlights. You can’t help laughing at their expressions. “What?” You asked.

Armin took a quick breath.

Jean swallowed a lump in his throat.

Sasha coughed.

Eren tried to avoid your eyes, feeling unsettled by the idea of meeting your gaze. The way everyone else was acting indicated that you didn’t know anything about this. About them. About how, apparently, all of them had wound up here in some sort of second chance at life.

They couldn’t raise suspicion.

So Connie bravely broke the silence: “It’s um- It’s Jean,” he stuttered. “He’s-... he’s constipated!”

Yeah.

Yeah that wasn’t suspicious at all.

***

“So… um, I guess that’s all I have to say.” Nicolo concluded his toast with an awkward laugh. “Thank you all for your support, even when that support-” he turned to Sasha, who was tucked under his arm and smiling up at her fiance as he addressed the room, “-sometimes means eating all of my imported truffles.”

“I told you that was an accident!” Sasha defended, playfully smacking him on the chest.

Niccolo laughed and kissed her forehead before everyone raised their glasses in a toast.

You grinned as your arm fell and you took a sip of your champagne. Your nose scrunched at the bitter taste. Wine had never been your thing.

You turned to Eren, who was standing next to you staring into his own glass.

“Don’t tell me you’re already considering cutting yourself off.” You teased. “Last night you were raving about how you were going to drink Jean under the table again.”

“Yeah..” Eren mumbled. “I um… yeah.”

Your smile fell as you watched him. He looked so trapped in thought. Thoughts he would normally share with you, but right now you knew there was no way he’d do that. You’d spent all morning trying to get into his head and having him push you out.

Eren was right next to you.

But… he’d never felt so far away.

“I don’t know what happened.” Eren told you, when you were nineteen and he disappeared for an entire night.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Eren shrugged as he poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I wanted to go for a walk, so I did and then- I dunno. Must have hit my head or something because I woke up back in bed.”

“Eren, you’re acting really casually about this. Maybe we should call your dad…”

You watched Eren’s body tense, just like it always did at the mention of Grisha Jaeger.

Eren stared into his glass of water, getting lost in his own reflection. For a moment you didn’t recognize him. For a moment he was a stranger.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you said nothing.

Thankfully, after that he bounced back. After that he was Eren. Just Eren.

Until right now, almost six years later, he wasn’t “Just Eren” at all.

He was someone else. The same “someone” that had gotten lost in the woods all those years ago.

Your hand slowly moved from your side and your fingers brushed softly against his. Eren jumped, as if your touch was something intimidating as opposed to comforting.

You began to pull away from him, worried that you’d make things even worse if you continued to push.

But, just as your fingers parted from his, his hand quickly reached out to take yours.

“Don’t.” He told you softly, still staring into his untouched glass of champagne. “I-...”

Eren’s heart clenched as your hand curled against his, returning his hold and sending a wave of warmth up his entire arm. He still didn’t know who you were but he knew this. He knew you hand in his and the way it made his heart soar.

“It’s okay, Eren.” You said softly as you gave his hand a soft squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For some reason, those words made everything seem okay.

***

Mikasa pulled herself into the taxi with a short sigh. Her flight hadn’t been long, but flying had always made her uncomfortable. Thankfully it was over, and soon she’d be celebrating with her friends.

A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought of seeing everyone again. She stared out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur.

Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see a group chat notification.

Expecting it to be Sasha, likely asking how much longer she was going to take to get there, her eyes widened when she read two simple words:

#eren x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #aot x reader #reverse isekai: i found you #my writing

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