#eren x berthold

[shut-up-and-touch-the-sky]

Goodbye, Shingeki no Kyojin. Goodbye to my younger version who started watching it, but muy actual version love it the same like 10 years ago.

The end of an era is here.

One part of the travel is the end.

Thanks for exist.

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmates AU in which when your soulmate is in a situation that can result in their death you get to see through their eyes. Like, I don't know how to explain this- it kind of flashes between what you see and what your soulmate sees. You know those edits where there's a scene going on and there's another one faded in the background happening at the same time? Similar to that. The idea is that you get to see what your soulmate sees too, on top of what you're seeing.

Now, this AU but JeanMarco. With Marco asking the others where's Jean, just for him to start seeing a corpse right in front of his eyes not even a second after asking. Seeing through Jean's eyes as he's trying to get hold of that gear and stuff. And once Jean's safe, once it clicks that you know his best friend is his soulmate Marco can't wait for them to graduate so he can you know tell him that.

Then, you know. That happens. And Jean is so fucking confused because he keeps seeing Annie crying, looking down on him. Only when Annie starts getting off the gear, when his soulmate starts moving around trying to get away he starts panicking, starts moving around faster than before. And maybe he's too late. Or maybe he shows up in time and kills the titan. I don't know. That's not where I'm trying to get, but to the second option AKA Marco pulling an UNO reverse on Annie because he's a smart sneaky bastard like that and being like 'Hey you can't kill me, my soulmate will know it was you' which makes her stop trying to take off his gear. Reiner keeps telling her to do it, Bertholdt keeps yelling about that titan coming closer, but Annie... she has seen things, at some point. Flashes of moments that weren't hers, happening right in Trost- right in that moment. And she didn't give them too much thought until that moment, until it got confirmed that it has nothing to do with her titan powers.

'What do you mean by that?' she asks, because she needs to know more. Because she wants to know more. And Marco starts explaining how it works. Tells them that he has found his soulmate, that they will put all the blame on them for his death. Reiner doesn't believe him, keeps insisting that he's playing them around - he, and anyone born and raised on Marley, has never heard of something like that before, it doesn't exist - but Annie tells him to shut up and to let Marco go. Cue to the plot of any fic in which Marco doesn't straight up die after finding up their secret.

Anyway I don't know man, just,,, We need more soulmate aus for JeanMarco. That's an order.

[diefxrguns]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

✯pairings- jean kirstein x afab!reader

✯ a/n- do not share my work on other platforms, if you're not comfortable then don't read.

✯synopsis- jean kirstein has had a crush on his best friend's younger sister for a while now, but it's not exactly a crush per se.

✯c/w- smut

" move baby, move baby I'm in love"

He was honestly afraid, he was afraid of loosing the friendship he had with Connie Springer, your older brother. You weren't particularly "close" with the older boy- named Jean Kirstein. But you were safe around him, ya know .

You felt a sense of comfort around the man, he was a few years older then you. You being 18 and Jean being 22.

Jean always escorted you to your small car after a party, just to make sure you're safe and sound.

His hands on your shoulder when the two of you went into a convenience store, late at night to get Connie some things. He did this to show the people there, that he was there.

Your body sprawled out underneath Jean, as his hand was on your mouth. Helping you conceal the lewd sounds that were escaping your mouth- with every thrust.

This was so fucking wrong, in so many ways. It was immoral almost.

Fucking his best friend's little sis, his longer hair falling his sweaty face. And one of his hands gripping your boob.

If Springer found out, you'd be dead. No Jean would be dead actually.

" Mhmmm" was all you could manage to say even though your mouth was covered by his hand.

Truthfully you wanted to scream, you wanted to scream so loud. It was all to overwhelming for you. You always had feelings for Jean. Just the way his eyes pierced through your soul. His hair, his tattoos, his muscles...

When you two were left alone, he took the opportunity. And he liked you too, he was overly protective, so that's an obvious sign of attraction.

" Yeah, you taking me so well hon, keep silent for me yeah" he said through heavy breaths

You did nothing but nod under him, with tear filled eyes and your hand gripping his wrist. Your legs over his shoulders, as he thrusted into you slowly.

" Oh, Oh fuck I'm gonna cum in this pussy yeah. Hmmm you'd like that hey- you'd like if I cum and make your pussy all creamy with my spunk" he said, his orgasm on route.

As he continued to thrust into your tight cunt, making wet noises that were getting louder by the second... Your orgasm hit you like a buss going full speed on a highway.

" Oh, mmmhmm" the sounds escaping your lips but were muffled due to his hand still on your mouth.

" Yeah, fuck- oh, you like that hmmm. I bet you love that don't ya" he said as he came but pulled out, his semen falling onto your pink sheets below

He let go of your mouth, making you gasp for some fresh air.

Your hair all messy and your body sweaty, your breathing heavy as he plopped on your bed next to you.

He hugged your small body as you fell asleep in his muscular arms- covered with tattoos.

His head resting on your shoulder, as you both dozed off.

From then on, you and Jean kept fucking. Everytime Connie left you were banging the shit out of each other. Even in his car when he dropped you off. After all that time, things still never got official between you two.

Maybe Jean just wasn't ready for a relationship, but apart of you always thought it was because he was using you for easy sex.

Gradually as time passed, the sexual energy between you and Jean could be seen by your other friends, including Connie.

"So Y/N why is Jean looking at you so much?" Asked Historia as she whispered in your ear.

Across the room, sat Jean with Eren, Connie, Armin, Reiner and Berthold.

It was game night, something your friend group did, every Friday night. It was kind of like a "tradition"

" Um I don't know Krista, He's probably just staring into space" you said tucking a strand of hair behind your ear akwardly

" Don't fucking lie, we see the way he's staring. Maybe it's the dress?" Said Sasha loudly, making the boys look at you all at once

" What about a dress? " Asked Armin looking at the group of girls

" She looks fucking hot, that's what this dress things about, Hey Y/N" said Annie in a somewhat sarcastic yet complementing manner

" Well Y/ N is fucking hot though" said Reiner munching on some chips

" That's enough boys, let's start the game shall we" said Connie, obviously and visibly uncomfortable by the remarks about his baby sister.

The game was a game of truth or dare, but not the regular truth or dare games that ask boring questions. This game was extremely provocative asking the most sexual questions.

" Alright, it landed on Armin... Truth or dare" asked Connie as he looked at Armin

" Hmm... Well.. I'll say truth- yeah truth" said Armin

" Who's your crush, you have to tell us" asked Connie holding back his laugh

Armin's face was bright red, as he froze. The boys knew who he liked but Armin never dared to tell anyone his secret. It was now or never I guess ...

" A-A.. I like Annie" Armin said as he looked away quickly

Annie's eyes widened as she blushed slightly, she found Armin so adorable and smart. In all honesty Annie could see herself with the younger boy.

" Ok next, it's Reiner" said Connie

" Truth or dare Ox" said Connie in a sarcastic manner, obviously joking with the bigger male

" It's truth for me" said Reiner clearly unfazed

" Ok who do you like? " Asked Connie with a big fat smirk on his face

" Well, that's interesting... She's sitting here right now. I mean, I've had my eyes on her forra while now- but she's playing hard to get. " Said Reiner with a smirk

" C'mon bro, who is she?" Asked Jean punching Reiners shoulder

" Y/N of course, I mean just look at her. Sorry Connie but your sister is 11/10, 100/10 in a bikini" said Reiner

And the room suddenly went quite, Connie held his arm awkwardly but never said a word, he wasn't to pleased. But Jean on the other hand was pissed. He wanted you all to himself, and in all honesty Jean disliked Reiner just because of how unnecessary Reiner could be.

" Well... Um, let's move on. Truth or dare Jean" asked Armin

" Dare" Jean said with his jaw clenched and his eyes darting at you

" I dare you to kiss anybody, anyone in the room"

That's when Jean got up and gave you the best kiss of a lifetime. His tongue entering your mouth and his hands found their way to your waist, grabbing you tight.

Reiner and Connie did nothing but gawk as gasps could be heard.

He was tired of waiting, he was tired of competing... You were his and his only.

" Fuck this shit, let's go Y/N. And to set this fucking thing straight, Connie- I've been fucking your sister. And I love it, I love her" said Jean as he grabbed your hand and walked out the house.

" I love you" he said as he drove away

(⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠)⁠ﾉa/n- this was so rushed ughh, kind of mid too. But anyways hope you enjoyed it

[azurlily]

Please write more Annie x fem reader

Our Unparalleled Love for You is being discontinued. It didn't get the traction I wanted and some people unfollowed me because of it(someone dmed me). Things like that will only be written upon request. If you're worried just please be upfront about what you want and ask anonymously.

Anyway I'm sorry it's short, I've been in the hospital and the other writers aren't writing on the acc anymore.

Yan!Annie x Colossal Titan!Reader

What happened?

Those words were desperately trying to leave Annie's mouth, but she was failing herself. Beretoldt is dead, and you inherited his titan. The girl whom Annie had saved from titans more times than she saved herself.

Why you?

The idea that someone like you, someone so...human. Normal, kind, willing to save others. How could someone like you be a titan, and the most destructive one at that? How could someone who hid behind Reiner when she(Annie) was mad do this? It doesn't make sense.

When did it all go wrong?

Annie is no idiot, she knows that to an extent, you were acting. You always had that look in your eye, like you knew something was wrong with what you said. You never truly said anything, therefore she never acknowledged it.

Why did you do this?

It was you or Berthold- why did she choose you? Why did she choose a girl she barely knew, when Beretoldt was the one she grew up with? It doesn't make sense, it doesn't add up. Why do you make her smile, why do you make her feel things shes never felt before?

Could it have gone differently?

Annie wanted to tell herself it could have gone differently. The idea that she could have chosen Beretoldt in another universe, it gave her clarity clarity that was stripped away when she saw your face: fear, anger, anguish, and confusion. You didn't get what was going on.

What is doing to herself for you?

Anything; Annie would do anything for you, and no matter what she tries to tell herself, you both know it. The look in her eyes isn't one of anger, she isn't as scared as she's deluding herself to be. No, she's not stupid. One of the thing she prides herself on: she knows what to do. But in that moment, she didn't. She could save herself or save you.

"Trust me."

Annie- despite telling herself differently- will always trust you. Until the day she dies Annie will put her life in your hands. With no regard for her safety, and no idea of what to do. She'd kill them all, just to save you. Armin, Reiner, her father. If it must be done, then so be it. Their just more blood spilled, more stains on the ground.

Monster or not, you'll still love her right?

Of course you would. Annie is risking everything for you, the least you can do is love her unconditionally. No matter what you feel, you know you're indebted to her. No matter how mean she is, no matter how mad she gets, no matter how many she kills. It's in your name, it's for you. You have to accept it, you will accept it right?

It's just a few bugs, why are you so scared to kill them, better yet, why do you help them?

They're not you. Annie doesn't care because they're not you. So why, why do you care about them? Your titan is made for destruction, yet you use it for protection. Not just of yourself or her, for others. Eren. What do you fucking see in a man, what does Eren have that she doesn't? Is it his titan? His power? She'll give it all to you, just stop staring at him. He's a bug. Not a person, not you.

You still wont leave her?

After everything she's done, you're still by her side. Even as she fights for someone she hates, even as she kills her former comrades. You still love her? Well, you're just as fucking crazy as she is.

[universaln0b0dy]

My aot x oc story in a nutshell

(this strives from canon so hard that I created a fanfic for a fanfic/j also time is from season 1-2 ig?)

7 year old Ella Braun, plagued by visions since birth, abandons her family to go to a small village somewhere in paradis outside of the 3 walls. Turns out she is a walking library. Also she changes her name to Hildegard Germania, because she would rather be related to Adele than her parents.

5 years later, Adele takes her to a parent take your kids to work day and Reiner attacks.

Adele wanting to save erens mom. Voice in the head of Adele, Aygün and Hildegard: No, for the sake of plot armour.

Adele can't bring Hilde back so, Hilde becomes wall child.

Hilde joins the 104th cadets. Reiner seeing Hildegard (👁👄👁) Hildegard seeing reiner (👁👄👁) (akward staring contest) also headache for the trainers cause mama Adele ain't leaving her adopted daughter alone.

During the first fight: Adele: Walking library, drink my blood. Hildegard: becomes walking library with defense mechanism. Marco dies Hildegard becomes depressed cause she liked him.

Adele: *eats titan cutely* (becomes titan for a short time)

Eren becomes titan.

Reiner: 👁👄👁 (tf this bitch doing)

Hildegard: 👁👄👁 (omg that's cool af!)

Everyone else: 👁👄👁 (what's going on)

Training, cause trainings good for your health. + Hildegard learning that Marley broke a 1000 year long peace treaty by attacking the island because a Child of History got hurt.

Female titan arc (adele saving like two characters + headache for Erwin, Levi and Hange, because adele is build like that)

Hildegard eats titan-> becomes titan for a short amount of time. Everyone: WHAT THE F-

Adele's, Aygün's and Hildegards honest reaction: 🤷‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏽‍♂️ --> 💃💃🏼🕺🏽

Reiner mad at Hildegard for ruining plan and very drastic fight between all the people from Marley . Hildegard :😔🤷‍♀️👋🏃‍♀️

More training.

Mission that reveals that Reiner and Berthold are the titans, same goes for Ymir. Hildegard reveals that the story about the founder of History's children being a lover of Ymir is hardcore propaganda and the two didn't even know the other existed.

Fighting scene, some die, some live

Epic : to be continued

[kriz-fics]

The Sword’s Legacy

Series Summary: As the heir of your father's lands, you have grown up knowing that one day you must wed to your House's advantage, and there's no better catch than the younger son of the Magister himself. Meanwhile tensions within the king's court are set to come to a head at any moment - it just needs that spark to send everything ablaze. Now in a court more dangerous than the one you entered, you find distraction and joy in the company of the beautiful boy with the beautiful eyes. You can only hope to weather the storm you can sense brewing in the horizon.

Masterlist

Chapter Nine: Stakes and Matters

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, Historical Fantasy AU, Romance, Politics, Warfare, Eventual Smut (future chapters)

Length: 11.5K

CW:  Slightly graphic description of injuries / brief mentions of masturbation (F, non-explicit), underage sexual exploits (non-explicit) / prostitution

“Your Majesty, Father Robert of Feyhill,” the herald (of the courtly sort and not the priestly) announces from the entrance to the king’s presence chamber, banging his staff hard on the gray marble floor.

The loud, steady stream of conversation from the gathered courtiers quiets to low murmurs as the priest strides forward, straight-backed, head held high, and eyes fixed resolutely forward on his king. Outside, a curtain of rain blankets the city. The soft pattering of raindrops against the glass of the tall, mullioned windows of the circular chamber blends with the court’s murmurs, and for the nonce, they are as one.

His Majesty Rod Reiss, the First of His Name, is sitting upon a throne at the front of the hall, this one less grand than the one he keeps in the throne room. Around him stands his Conclave, still as statues, looking at the approaching lawyer with varying degrees of interest. The whole scene makes for an impressive tableau, Jean thinks, watching closely from his place amongst the audience.

To complete the picture, on the wall behind this stately lot hangs the visage of the vanished glory and pride of the Eldian lineage. Berthold the Great’s Founder glares down at those assembled within the chamber, taking pride of place at the center of the massive tapestry; its purple eyes are immense, yawning and flaring from atop its monstrously skeletal face. To its right stands the Warhammer, wielded by Berthold’s queen, Malenia Tybur, the Hammer of Eldia. While not as outwardly grotesque as her king’s mount, there is something still uncannily eerie about the deathly white behemoth clutching its equally proportioned weapon from whence it takes its name. The way its pale flesh parts in striped bars around its eyes and mouth to show ruddier skin beneath lends much in the way of its eeriness. The Beast, last of the three Eldian Titans, completes the tapestry from its place at the Founder’s left. This one had belonged to the king’s cousin, Karl Fritz the Golden, and his mount had taken the form of something horrifically leonine; for this particular Titan was said to have the ability to change its beastly shape depending upon who wielded it at the time.

Jean has always thought the tapestry the blood royal’s way to inspire humility and awe within those who will pay them court. It is a reminder of the strengths of the Royal House of Reiss, their power, their might, their origins, without which they could never have united the whole realm. And oftentimes, it succeeds in its quest to humble and awe; if there is any image that can lower men’s gaze, it will be this one. Jean himself has never truly liked the way the Founder’s eyes seem to follow him everywhere he goes inside the room and usually does his best to avoid glancing at the bolt of cloth for too long.

And yet, a bolt of cloth is not the real thing, however much it aspires to intimidate. The sentiment it invokes will have been a thousand times more potent if the subjects it depicts are still actually alive and extant in these present times.

The three-hundred-year threat of the Titans to the realm ended a century ago when the Eldian Houses turned against one another in one of their frequent bids for power. This one would be the one to cost them all, as they learned to their grievous sorrow.

The War of the Ancients saw all three Titan wielders perish without passing on their most prized legacies, thus making Lovaya the Titansbane in truth and allowing a certain ancient prophecy to come to pass. With humanity having lost their numen due to the Sundering, any hopes of recreating the potion which birthed the Eldians’ chiefest font of power had been lost.

There were attempts by the next few Reiss kings to restore their former glory, yet all had ended in death and tragedy. Ulrich V - the Enlightened to some, the Guilty to others, the Gormless to those of an academic bent - put an end to further attempts by burning all books, tomes, scrolls, any source of information there was about the Titans as part of his ‘penance’ for the sins committed by his House using ‘those monsters begotten from the deepest level of hell itself.’

The monsters from hell do not seem to have much of an effect on the old lawyer, though, Jean notes, looking on with the rest of the court as Father Robert goes to one knee before his king. Once more, Jean is struck by the resilience of this holy man. The northman in him cannot help but swell with pride, though they belong to opposing factions; they are a tough lot, whatever else the rest of the realm thought about them.

Silence falls upon the courtiers as all and sundry hold their breath, waiting and watching. Outside, the rain continues to pour. The king looks exceptionally weary today, it seems to Jean. But then, he seems to be much wearier these days, understandably so. Anyone in his place will feel likewise, and His Majesty is hardly a young man. Beside Jean, Lord Richard Kirschtein stands to attention and leans forward a little, expression rapt.

The king stares at the priest a while longer, regal mask in place, before smiling. “Father Robert.”

“Your Majesty,” the lawyer answers, bowing his head deferentially.

“I bid you welcome to my court. We are most glad to have you here, Father, though it grieves me that we should meet under such unpleasant circumstances. However, having read your full and honest account of the sentiments of our northern subjects, I am most persuaded to give you fair hearing.” The king gestures to his left, where the Lord Commander of the Royal Guard is standing beside the throne. “You have much to thank our Lord Commander for as well. He has spoken most highly of you.”

Sir Erwin Smith acknowledges the priest with a slight incline of the head, which Robert returns civilly. Jean feels a chill run through him at the sight of the very empty right arm of his master’s armor. It has been a little over a month since the Lord Commander lost the limb, and yet Jean is still finding it difficult to reconcile himself with that image, exposed though he was to it for all that time. He will not soon forget all that pus and the dark, rotting flesh of his master’s arm, and the smell… His gorge rises at the memory of the overwhelming stench of corruption that clung to the Lord Commander before the herbman took his limb off.

Jean quickly averts his gaze from Sir Erwin, choosing to stare instead at the kneeling priest, who is by now being addressed by the rest of the gathered Conclave.

Some part of him, small yet enduring, still grudges Eren for the Lord Commander’s loss. But the better part of him has let it go, in a way. The weeks after the northmen’s assault had been most enlightening, especially where it concerned his opinions on Eren. Seeing the other boy grow more and more distraught every day Sir Erwin’s wounds worsened opened Jean’s eyes to the fact that Eren Jaeger is not someone to be envied after all.

The boy in question is on the other side of the chamber, lowering his head slightly to whisper something to his betrothed, who has joined him and his older brother for the day’s audience in the absence of her own kin. A fortnight has passed since that day with the barrels, the day that saw a shift in Jean’s and Eren’s relations with each other. While barbs still fly between them as of late, these lack the edge of their preceding abuses. Jean does not know what to make of that, yet something in him is glad of the change; he never realized just how exhausting it is to carry so much bile for one person all these years until his load had lightened.

The king stands from his throne, drawing Jean’s attention once more. His Majesty strides toward the kneeling priest, stretching out his right hand, which Father Robert takes, placing a reverential kiss upon the large amethyst ring circling the third royal digit. “Come, we have much to discuss,” Rod Reiss says, lifting the older man up and gesturing to the entrance of the Conclave Hall toward the left side of the chamber. “My lords,” he addresses his foremost advisors, and the men of the Conclave file after them, led as always by the Magister.

The court erupts into conversation the very moment the Conclave doors swing shut behind the Quaestor, and Lord Richard Kirschtein releases a breath, drawing Jean aside toward one of the windows. “Well, the day has come. I don’t need to remind you of the importance of discretion for this undertaking, do I?”

“No, Father, I’ll be discreet.”

“Good lad. Well, the man is as interesting as you made him out to be, I grant you. I must say, I like him already. A true northman, through and through. But I’ll like him regardless, if only because the sight of him seems to rankle that Braun creature.”

It certainly has. A glance at the aforementioned man across the hall shows Jean the dark look on his face as he silently converses with his liege, the Lord David Fritz, whose expression mirrors his vassal’s quite impressively. They have a deal to rage against, that is true enough; any victories the lawyer will have is death to their ambitions of further territorial expansion.

Yet the Lord Fritz is not a foe to be taken lightly. As the richest man in the realm, the custodian of the most active gold mines in Lovaya as well as one of the kingdom’s most thriving ports, he can lend his weight to any designs against the North. Being close kin to the king is no small matter either. With him and Tybur in the field, things look to be rather grim indeed.

And so that night sees Jean stealing along one of the smaller castle gardens adjoining the guest wing, which lodges other nations’ ambassadors in addition to the court’s callers. The rain has finally stopped falling, much to his relief. This endeavor is hard enough as it is without the weather further complicating things for him.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the nearby corridor instantly gives him pause, and he retreats further into the shadows, pressing himself against the wall of the nearby keep and tugging the hood of his black cloak further down his face. The smell of wet earth assails him, rich and pleasant. There is a lingering chill in the air, and he huddles deeper into his cloak, drawing it tighter around himself.

For the second time that night, he curses the lack of convenient secret passages to this part of the castle as he impatiently watches a servant amble down the hallway, which opens up to the gardens. The passage he used took him only as far as these grounds, and so he must needs skulk like a thief through the greenery, all discreet-like. He supposes there are other more convenient passages that lead directly to the wing itself (and possibly a couple of its rooms), but having not been educated in all of Midford’s secrets, he has to make do.

He hurries forward the instant the servant vanishes further inside the palace, rushing past the pools of orange light coming from the surrounding lampposts and creeping into the relative darkness of the guest wing. The tension in his body eases somewhat now that he is safe within the hall, and he proceeds toward his destination, alert yet calmer than he was before.

This sneaking around and prowling is little to his taste yet he understands the need for it. It will not do for busybodies to see any of his House liaising with their northern guest. They can’t risk being implicated if the Zhelevic rise again; they will be accused, like as not, of fomenting unrest and providing further succor to the outlaw cause, as the Proctor feared. As it is, it was all Lord Pixis could do to prevent similar uprisings in his neck of the woods. Jean and his lord father strongly suspect the Lord Skaryn’s hold on the leash he keeps around his folk’s necks isn’t as tight as it can be, no matter his very convincing display of rage against the Consul once he was accused of such.

A large part of Jean does not want to further the blood feud any more than it already has, yet filial piety guides his steps toward the lawyer’s rooms. Assuring the priest of their clandestine support shouldn’t lead to outright bloodshed between Braun and Kirschtein, should it? It is not as if they have aims to fund and arm the Zhelevic or their own folk…

The sixth door to the right of the corridor. He quickly locates the room and continues down the dimly lit hall. Charming words and a couple of copper caps bought him that useful bit of information from some chambermaid. It is an astounding thing, this business of information the servants have entered into. And highly lucrative. Trivial or significant, very little escapes the lowborn hirelings and they have learned to use that to their advantage. Jean has to admire the ways with which they would swell their meager coffers. He wonders, not for the first time, who is in the employ of who and silently shudders to himself.

He reaches the right door at last and knocks softly. “Holy Father,” he says, the moment the door swings open.

The priest looks up at him in surprise, which is exacerbated as he lowers his hood. “Young Master Kirschtein! I-I did not expect to be graced with your company tonight. Please, come in, if you will.”

“My thanks, Father.” The quarters the steward has housed the lawyer in are comfortable enough. A great canopied bed is standing to the left of the room, its posts draped with pale velvet hangings. A lavish Abhanese carpet covers the floor, illuminated by a stone fireplace and its merrily crackling flames; otherwise, the place is dark and murky. The only other source of light comes from the lamp hanging from a sconce on the wall. The light from this one washes over a desk placed in front of the only window in the room, its dark curtains drawn closed. On the tabletop, a pewter jug and goblet sit beside a wooden likeness of the Father Above in his bull-headed form. “I’m sorry if I disturbed your prayers.”

“Oh, no, it is no trouble, my lord. Lord Amos is good and just, he will not begrudge you my attention. And,” the priest closes the door softly behind him, “a late-night visit is a most curious thing indeed.” Father Robert steps closer to him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I come at the behest of my father, Lord Richard, who wishes you and your- our cause well,” Jean answers, slipping back into his own northern brogue and feeling his sense of kinship with the holy man deepen. It is wearisome work to keep up that stuffy, high-hat court accent all the time, he finds. “I must also apologize for the lateness of the hour, and the secrecy. People talk, and some have the most inconvenient habit of remembering things they shouldn’t.”

“Aye, that they do.” The priest walks past Jean toward the desk. “Might I offer you a drink?”

“Thank you, but no.” As Father Robert pours himself a goblet, Jean ventures, “May I ask how it went with the king and Conclave?”

The lawyer chuckles lightly at that. “It went well enough, lad, considering the circumstances. Of course, there will always be opposition but I think, with the right words, there is hope of swaying the king yet. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for some of his council.” A dour look descends upon the priest’s face. “Tybur’s influence must be diminished, there is no question of that now, not when he drowns out the voices of other, better men.”

“I think you’ll find that a hard ask, Father. Tybur claims kinship with the royal line and he’s Eldian besides, that lot tends to hold each other in higher esteem.”

“It seems to me that a good king must put his kingdom before his kin or he is no true king at all, not one I will gladly follow, at any rate.” Father Robert sets his half-emptied goblet down upon the desk once more.

Jean hums his assent and reaches inside the pocket of his pants. “Please, accept this, Father. A token of our support, what little of it we can give you openly, in any case. You have friends at court still, remember that.” The sunstone gleams upon the priest’s palm like a smoldering ember, the light of the lamp reflecting off its fiery surface. “May the gods, both old and new, bless and keep you, Father. Our minds and prayers are with you. If the gods are good, we can resolve all of this peacefully.” For all of our sakes.

The Woodisle is a blue-gray serpent undulating through the stone forest that is Belris, long and winding. The wind that blows across it is cool, carrying the many scents of the city. It smells of Mercy’s Cap and rain trees and greenery from the royal gardens above. It smells of wet stone and wet earth and water. Underneath that is smoke and sweat and something savory, staler smells yet familiar for all that.

You breathe it all in, invigorated, yet part of you cannot help but think that all of that pales in comparison to the scents of home. Nothing is as sweet as the salty, sharp, crisp air of the sea.

“-consummated the marriage before the marriage!”

The cakes you brought with you come close, though, you think, nibbling on your forkful of light, airy confection. The ganso - the white, flaky meat of some exotic Mi Anese fruit - is an interesting addition; it gives the cake a delightful texture and a distinct toasted flavor from the browning the baker subjected the fruit to. You take a sip of the light, golden vintage in your cup, studiously ignoring the hot, burning sensation Historia’s eyes impart on the side of your skull at the turn of your conversation. I should not have told her about Eren.

It is not as if the both of you have plans of consummating your own betrothal.

Suddenly, hands are slapping hard at your back as you hack and cough, spilling wine all over your skirts and the blanket beneath you. You bat the hands away, throat sore and eyes watering. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you all right?” Isabelle Seitz and Hannah Kefka gaze at you, worry clear upon their faces.

“I’m fine,” you croak, hand on your chest and wheezing out one last cough as Historia rubs your back soothingly. “Wine went down the wrong way, is all.” You grimace at the wet spots of it on your skirts, thankful that the lot of you had chosen the gold and not the red. You can just imagine the mortifying ordeal of having to walk back through the castle with a suspicious red stain on your white underskirt (your overskirt is black, at least).

Isabelle looks at you doubtfully, before continuing her tale. “And so, as I was saying, the Lady Veronika and-”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Historia whispers to you as an aside. At your affirmation, the princess smirks. “Is our little chat hitting a little too close to the mark, sweeting?”

“Oh, hush.” You look away, feeling heat creep up your neck. Three weeks ago saw a certain game of qaxan end in a most interesting way, and you have thought of little else since. Eren gave you little cause to think he meant all the things he said then, afterward. In all important respects, it had simply been his attempt at turning the tides to his favor, much like you yourself had done to him earlier. And yet… Warmth prickles up your cheeks. Is it possible to affect that much heat in one’s gaze if he does not truly mean it? Inwardly, you shake your head, annoyed. As far as you are concerned, you have never teased him that badly. Since when did he get a silver tongue?

And if he does mean it… You stuff the rest of your cake into your mouth, downing it all in two bites. That will mean coming to terms with the fact that he wants to-

“Oh, hush, I’m more than certain the thought has crossed his mind more than once,” Historia whispers, voice devious. “As it has crossed yours, I’m sure.”

“Hannah, you’re newly wedded and bedded,” you abruptly address the girl in question. “Was it worth it, waiting for the wedding night? Lady Veronika certainly doesn’t seem to think so.”

The redheaded girl blushes to the roots of her hair, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, what a question! But,” she glances sneakily at the two Royal Guardsmen standing some feet away from the apple tree you are picnicking under, silent sentinels flanking both sides of the stone stairway that leads back up to the royal gardens, “between you and me-”

You smile as Isabelle and Historia turn to the other girl with exclamations of interest. That got her out of my hair, thank the gods. You hum and react to Hannah’s tale where necessary, but only half your mind is truly paying attention.

It will be a lie to say you do not think about the prospect of an… earlier bedding, true enough. You are no stranger to lust; your flowering saw to that. It has been years since last you’ve known the touch of man, and Roman had not even been a man grown. His clumsy little boy’s fumblings seem feeble now compared to your own touch.

As it is, you do not find much occasion to give yourself pleasure of late. Guilt became a constant bedmaid once you and Eren were matched; the longer you had been betrothed, the less comfortable you had been thinking of other men to bring you to peak. And the thought of pleasuring yourself to Eren seemed discomfiting at the time. Yet now…

You fidget a little in your seat, absently pressing your legs closer together. You cannot remember ever reaching such heights of pleasure as you did that night you first touched yourself to him, the day of that momentous game. You had only to recall those long, slender fingers of his, the green fire of his eyes, and his voice… his voice most of all, and you were arching on your bed, moaning loudly in the confines of your chambers as you clenched hard around your fingers, wishing they were his. Afterward, you lay staring blankly at your ceiling, naked, sated, and marveling at how long it had been since last you'd climaxed.

Your years as a courtier enabled you to face your betrothed the next day without stumbling, adding to the unspoken consensus between the two of you that acknowledging certain avowals made from the previous day’s game was a subject best discussed for another time. When you are both better primed to face it. One thing is for certain, though; that game has irrevocably changed how you see him now, and you do not know what to make of that.

Nor do you know what to make of the other, decidedly less lustful feelings that day brought on. The little girl inside you, who has grown quiet of late, giggles like a milkmaid in springtime.

Once you fall…

“Flo, get back here!”

You turn and receive an armful of particolored fur.

“Flo!” The Princess Florian runs up to the picnicking party, doubling over with her hands on her knees, panting. “When I say seek, I didn’t mean the girls!”

“Hello there, Flo,” you say, petting the little butterfly dog gently and giggling as she stands on her hind legs, placing her paws upon your shoulders and pressing kisses. The pup was a gift from the Ambassador of Aviçon for the royal twins’ sixteenth yearday the earlier winter. Florian, as Historia’s elder by a full minute, claimed the right to give the dog a name and insisted they call the pup after her own royal self.

She straightens up at last and reaches out to you. “Give her here.” Her two companions catch up to their mistress at last, both equally as winded as their charge had been earlier.

The sudden influx of femininity somehow reminds Isabelle of the royal pleasure barge the rest of your party had taken for a sail down your side of the Woodisle, and pronounces her impatience and need to take a turn with the vessel.

As the other girls chatter and fawn over the royal pup, Historia catches your eye and gestures to the riverside with her head.

Sir Stafan inclines his head respectfully as the both of you pass and offers you a small smile, which you return. You are glad to see him risen so high, for one who is secondborn. The Anasenkos are loyal vassals to your House, and true; qualities that will serve him well in the Royal Guard. Sir Julian Halkin is standing on the other side of the stairway, face as still as the monument towering over you all across the waters. Old Blood both, from the North and the South.

Historia sits down upon the stone quayside, legs submerged to the knee within the deep blue waters of the river. You follow suit, hiking your skirts over your legs and toeing off your black leathern slippers; all at once, you grow desirous of the shorter tunics and sandals of home, garb more fitting for such wet pursuits.

The water is cool against your skin, pleasantly so. You wriggle your toes, gazing up at the gray skies above. It does not look to be breaking any time soon, thankfully.

“How is Prince Urklyn faring these days? And the little princess?” you ask after you have both settled.

Historia sighs. “Ah, Gisela, poor mite… she still cries for her mother, they tell me. Urklyn, though…” Her expression dims even more for a moment. “He’s grave, solemn, the perfect picture of a grieving husband but… I know he never truly loved the Lady Mariya, gods rest her soul. It was all duty between the two of them. At least they weren’t a pair at war, I’ll grant them that much.”

The Lady Mariya Tarasava, wife of five years to the future Urklyn Reiss IV, Crown Prince and Prince of Crownglen, had died of the sweats over a week past. The court erupted into panic then; while not immediately contagious, the sweats are almost guaranteed to be mortal to those who catch the feared disease, and the next few days saw the highborn flock to the Gardener’s temples and drain the Healers’ stores of preventative tonics. There have been no further cases of the illness thus far, though the court remains on tenterhooks.

“Father and daughter are healthy enough, thank the gods. But, argh, the vultures! Already circling around my brother, and Lady Mariya not even cold in her grave! The gall, I tell you!” Historia seethes, hands curling into fists on her lap.

You smile sympathetically and reach over, grabbing your princess’s hand and squeezing gently. You know some of those vultures well, as it happens. “They were bound to come out of the woodwork at some point. At least His Majesty is deferring, as he should for the moment.” As is Father, for that very reason.

Amiable and good-natured he may be for the most part, but Lord Alexander Rhyzkov has a streak of ambition in him as high as the most grasping of lords’. If you are not promised to Eren now, you know your father will be planning to offer you up in Lydia’s stead once the king grows more amenable to a new match for his heir.

You would have been content to marry Roman Meledin, if given the choice; you grew up together and are good friends besides, what more can you ask for? Yet it was not only the scandal of having his daughter fondled by his ward that drove Alexander to turn the boy away. Had you fallen pregnant with a Meledin bastard, he would have been forced to wed you off to his erstwhile page, and he has higher plans for his heir. The second son of the second-most powerful man in the realm is as fit a match as he can hope for for the prospective Lady Rhyzkova, for want of a prince. Better that than just a mere son of a vassal.

Historia returns your gentle grip, though the smile that graces her lips vanishes as soon as it has come. She sighs and glances up at the gigantic stone woman looming before you from the side of the building opposite your part of the Woodisle. Some founder of some institute, you think distantly, gazing up at the great gray face with mild interest.

“Speaking of Father…” Historia hesitates a little, then persists, “He’s been acting rather… strangely these days. Well, more strangely than his norm, in any case.” You chuckle slightly, prompting the princess to continue. “You know how I’ve told you about the vaults, yes?”

You sit up straighter at that, intrigued. You do not know how much of the court, outside of the royal family, is privy to this particular pastime of the king’s yet it is no common knowledge. The Conclave knows, for a certainty; Lord Alexander complains enough of His Majesty’s absences on the council’s worst days, that is for sure. The Royal Guard, as the king’s protective shadows, will also know. Perhaps those of the Conclave’s respective circles, like you, are privy as well, along with the handful of Priors His Majesty has employed to better educate him on the new arts, that which they call the ‘sciences’.

“Father’s been spending more and more time down there lately… this deal with the North must be affecting him worse than he lets on,” Historia confides in a hushed voice.

You chew on that a moment, considering. You suppose that is to be expected; if these sciences (apart from his whores) bring the king even some semblance of peace and diversion, as Historia once claimed, it will stand to reason he will spend longer hours in the vaults where he tinkers with his curios, especially in these more troubled times. “Well, I’m not entirely surprised. If I may speak honestly, he made things a great deal more complicated for himself. But I suppose there is no pleasing everyone… he’s bound to offend one side or the other whatever he does. I am surprised that he’s willing to deprive his favorite at all.”

You and the court both, yet none was as spectacularly taken aback as the favorite himself when the king declared a pardon to all the northmen who laid down their arms. To add salt to the northern opposition’s wounds, His Majesty further promised that Tybur’s hold and influence in the North shall henceforth be revoked; he and his folk are expected to cede their foregoing lands and return to the Tyburs’ seat of Herstadt within the year.

The lawyer Robert left court a happy man a week after his arrival. Though the sudden death of the Crown Prince’s wife delayed his audiences, he did not go home empty-handed and returned North laden down with good news and the promise of a royal visit during the summer progress, when the king himself will deliver his written terms to the Lord Skaryn in sight of his folk and formally offer his pardon to the northmen in his own royal person. The lords Kirschtein and Pixis have much to rejoice as well. Egstatten should be well clear of midlanders by year’s end; the added expense of a royal visit to Pixis lands is a small price to pay for that much-longed for boon.

That session at Conclave was as entertaining as a masque, to hear your father speak of it. It will seem that Willy Tybur has overreached himself at last. Apparently wearied by the constant coercions of his Consul (and perhaps having to endure a family funeral), His Majesty chose to deal with the man as he oft dealt with his Magister and put his lot in with the northmen.

When Tybur had the temerity to balk at the final royal decree, the king had, in no uncertain terms, reminded the man of his rightful place. “You forget yourself, my lord. Kin we might be, but you presume much to think that gives you power over me. I am the king. It is my word, my law, my realm. And you would do well to remember that.” This uttered in front of the very man His Majesty had said much the same thing to a decade past, the Consul’s greatest adversary, and an outsider to the court who has little reason to love the Tybur lord.

There is much to be said about this king, but one thing is for certain: he will not suffer threats to his rule, kin or no, real or imagined.

“Ugh, politics,” Historia wrinkles her nose, making you laugh. “You’re right, dealing with all of that at once would drive anyone to the deepest, darkest pit they could find to toy around with magic.”

“This coming progress is sure to be a very interesting one indeed,” you remark, eyes landing on Sir Julian and wondering how he feels about this recent development, before remembering that as a Royal Guardsman he is not permitted to have an opinion about this at all. If he does have one, it’ll certainly be much better than the opposing faction’s. The Midland lords who stand to gain with Lord Tybur’s rise now find themselves greatly diminished. Tybur’s star is exceedingly dim nowadays, to his enemies’ considerable delight.

But this is all for the best. Peace will return to the North once more (for the moment, at least; they always are such an unruly bunch, these northmen) and be made safer for all. Perhaps you may be able to visit the Godsway of Elibai a second time. If the South has the largest godstone in the realm, the North has its godsway in the Forest of Livda in the Province of Elibai, Zheletov’s neighbor to the northeast. It has oft been said that one of the Old Blood has not truly lived if he has not seen these two wonders, and you are fortunate to have seen both. It will be pleasant to walk through the Woods of the Whispering Pines again after all these years and see the hundreds of godstones lining the forest path.

And this time, Eren will be with you. You smile at the thought and paddle your legs dreamily through the cool river waters.

“Flo!”

The princess and her maid turn as one at the shriek. Historia gasps in abject horror. “Flo!” she cries shrilly and stands up in a rush, heedless of your own squeal of shock as a huge wave of water washes over you from the princess’s headlong dash, soaking your dress and lap.

Flo, the little menace, had thrown herself into the river chasing after her errant ball and had to be scooped up by the returning pleasure barge, which fortunately for her was nearby when she made the leap. The riverside party troops back into the castle sometime later with a sodden dog, a drenched princess, and a dripping maid, much to the confusion of the palace staff.

“And bugger off, ya whoreson, if ya know what’s good fer ya! Ya can get yer cunt by the walls.”

Guido the guard lumbers angrily past the gilt and alabaster pillars of their chartered chambers, cursing pricks, sots, and troublemakers all to the deepest level of hell. A pair of whores, swathed in tiny wisps of silk, titter as they walk by, looking back at the man as they whisper. A most familiar face makes itself present moments later, and Eren narrows his eyes over the rim of his goblet as he watches Porco Galliard- Sir Porco Galliard, he mustn’t forget that most illustrious title, mosey by with a whore under each arm.

Eren rolls his eyes to the frescoed ceiling, his left arm resting behind his head as he lays upon a velvet divan, an embroidered cushion bolstering his neck as he takes another sip of his drink and feels annoyance course hot through him like the rum that burns a track down his throat. The Galliard boy is a bellend of the worst kind; the prat has taken it into his head that being knighted much earlier than his peers gives him the right to lord it over all of them, though this is most pronounced in his relations with Reiner, who he holds a special loathing for.

The annoyance mellows in Eren at the thought of that bitter enmity. And its cause.

Loud laughter bursts from Reiner’s lips just then, the sort that can bleed into screams at a heartbeat’s turn. The man has much guff to flee from nowadays, to be sure. So flee he did to the one place he can escape from it all, even for just a moment, bringing the whole lot of them with him. As always.

And, as always, the Timid Cushion does not fail to entertain. Participant or spectator, the place makes sure its distinguished custom of the rich and powerful are well-satisfied by night’s end. It is whispered that the Magister before Lord Grisha, the late Lord Linse, had invested heavily in the pillow trade and owned several houses in the upscale Red Walk, the Cushion being one of them. That will certainly account for the tasteful (and costly) decor and the size of the establishment, second only to the Celesta further down the street (another establishment of his incidentally, and his most expensive, according to court gossip).

Recent court tensions have played upon many a lord’s nerves, including the elder Braun’s, who seems to be foisting his ill humors upon his heir. The heir, in turn, foisted his own consternation to his circle, though they at least are benefiting highly from it.

Bertolt and Bethany are sitting on the wide window seat before the leaded glass window playing at cards. And forfeits. Thus far, Bertolt has lost his coat, his belt, and his right boot; Bethany has lost her shawl and her own beaded belt, and both have undone their tunics to the navel. Connie is off in one of the two rooms in the chamber, making Melody sing. Faint gasps and moans of pleasure can be heard from behind the closed door if one cares enough to listen.

On the divan to the left of Eren's sit Jean and Poppy. Being cunt-struck for the Lady Mikasa has never stopped Kirschtein from flirting with the Cushion’s girls; all the same, it never goes farther than that, to his credit. He lost his virtue to Saskia, nevertheless, a couple of years back, much to his complete and utter devastation. Eren had laughed himself sick at the sight of Jean, naked as his yearday, drunkenly blubbering his grief to the Abhanese carpet he lay on and lamenting his regrets about not remaining pure for his beloved Mikasa. He had forsworn bedding whores ever since.

But tonight, Mikasa is in the palace, far from sight (though never from mind, knowing Jean), and Poppy sits curled up against the horseboy, eating grapes from his hand and giggling as he whispers pertly into her ear.

It is striking, really, how much Poppy resembles his betrothed, especially in this light, Eren thinks, resting the pewter lip of his goblet upon his own flesh one and looking on as the girl tosses her head back, laughing at one of Jean’s anecdotes. It is in her hair, her eyes, even the way she smiles…

Eren averts his gaze swiftly and drains his cup in one. His head swims at the abrupt intake of liquor yet he welcomes it, the better to take his mind off the budding tension in his groin. Perhaps he can drink himself to impotence instead of dwelling on thoughts of you wearing Poppy’s exceedingly short gauzy shift, which hides everything and nothing. He wonders how short your shifts truly are, though. You always wear a bedrobe over them whenever you steal out on your nights, robbing him of the alluring sight of your scantily clad nubile body. He had been blessed by the sight of your shapely legs once, as you clambered atop Klesvar’s forehead; brief it had been but he is thankful for that much, at least.

He tilts his goblet to his mouth and frowns at the miserly drop of rum that coats his tongue. The jug is sitting on the wooden table beside his perch, just within arm’s reach, yet it had as well be on the other side of the room. His body feels like it weighs twenty stone, and the divan is getting more and more comfortable by the hour. It won’t be the first time he’s spent the night in this brothel, but a large part of him better desires the comforts of his own bed.

His arm drops limply to the carpeted floor, still clutching his empty goblet, and his head lolls to the side, watching but not truly seeing Reiner pour wine down the nude front of his girl (Lavender or some such) and slowly lap it off.

“D’you like redheads, milord?” May the Maid leans over the back of Eren’s divan, smirking down at him, all seduction and naked as her yearday. She has clearly come from a tumble, by the look of her. Her hair is artfully tousled, her skin flushed and gleaming under the lamplight; bruises and bites litter her pale throat and full breasts, and she smells of lavender, sweat, and sex. “If I’d known, I would’a dyed me hair for you. Might be you’ll like me better then.”

Eren returns her smirk with his own. “I don’t suppose you’re still a maid?”

“Hmm, 'course I am, milord, why wouldcha think otherwise?” May giggles. “Oh, how much we’ve missed you, milord.” She reaches down to brush back his fringe, giving him a better look at her ample charms. He finds it more than passing droll that the barest hint of your breasts excites him more than any whore’s exposed ones, no matter how plump and pretty.

“Have you changed your mind 'bout fuckin’ us?” May glances at her redheaded peer, who is by now busy devouring Reiner’s mouth on the divan right across Eren’s. “Violet’s new. Came to us a maid, a right proper one this time,” she smirks once more, then continues. “‘Course, Talinia asked twice as much for her but she’s well broken in now and should be cheaper. Not by much, though. I dunno why men love reds so much,” she scoffs, tossing her own honeyed curls back haughtily. “They’re no better’n any other girl here. Hell, I’m better than her. She hasn’t been fuckin’ that long, anyways, not like me. Milord’ll have a better time with me than Miss Half-A-Maid, methinks.” She trails a finger down Eren’s jaw to his chest, partly bared by the loosened laces of his shirt.

“And methinks Milord has no desire to spend his time with the Cushion’s maids, half or whole, as you should know by now.”

The Maid pouts her fleshy bottom lip at him. “Milord’s just cost me me precious lapis flower necklace and Poppy’s emerald bracelets.”

“You shouldn’t be wagering on me, then.” He glances at the forenamed girl and spots her eyeing him and May closely from her place beneath Jean’s arm.

May shrugs one lovely bare shoulder, offhand. “‘S worth a try. Any girl’d want the privilege of havin’ Sir Pretty Eyes’ pretty eyes on her.” She touches the golden pearl upon his chest. “Your girl’s a lucky one.”

The corners of his lips turn up a little at that, and Eren moves his arm from behind his head, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the pendant.

“Oh, my, what’s milord been doin’ with his pretty fingers, hmm? Get in a fight? Trainin’ too hard?” May takes his hand in hers and presses a slow kiss to his bandaged digits, brown eyes dark and inviting.

Eren can feel himself responding to the touch and withdraws, sitting up and swinging his legs off the divan, turning his back on her. He closes his eyes against the spell of lightheadedness that besets him, then slowly opens them again once he is certain the danger of retching half his insides onto the richly carpeted floor is not forthcoming.

“Got in a fight with a knife taking up a new pastime. As you can see, I’m no good at it yet.” He had not thought to enjoy woodcarving so much. What started as a ploy for an Elena’s Day gift for his niece turned into something more personal, and he often finds himself of late whittling away at a block of wood in his slower hours. It gives his hands something to do, at any rate, and skill will come with time, he knows. He will be glad of it, then; mistakes are painful and enduring, as his fingers can attest.

At the least, he can make recognizable figures, according to you, though something tells him that was you attempting to spare him his feelings on the matter (he is still sure Ymir's present can pass for a falcon). The thought of you makes him place his goblet on the table. He reaches into his pocket for his pouch of coins.

“Here,” he says, turning back to the whore and tossing her a silver crescent, which she catches, surprised. “Coin you would’ve made if you actually fucked me instead of talking. I’d hate to have you come out the poorer for wasting your time and attentions on me.” He nods at Reiner, whose girl has apparently vanished to the other room in the chamber. “He’ll make a more willing fuck. Gods know the poor sod needs it. Make him forget his name for the night and teach Half-A-Maid a thing or two.”

The Maid simpers, rolling the coin between her slender fingers. ��Always a pleasure havin’ you here, milord.” She leers at Reiner, who responds in kind, and saunters off to join Violet.

“You,” Reiner slurs, pouring himself a cup of rum, “are the best mate a bloke could ask for.”

Eren chuckles. “Happy to please.”

“Truly, you are.” Reiner takes a long, healthy swig of his drink. “Mother’s Tits, that’s good.”

“Easy there, Reiner, you still want to perform for the girls,” Jean puts in, arm draped around Poppy’s smaller form and carelessly toying with the ends of her tresses.

“Ah, sod off.” The big man throws himself against the back of the divan, head tilted to the ceiling. “If it can drown out the image of overbearing fathers, the better.”

Jean and Eren glance at each other. Nothing is more like to sober a man up, Eren thinks, eyes trained carefully at the Braun heir.

“You’re a good lad, Jean,” Reiner continues, still staring at the ceiling. “And I’m glad you'll get to keep what’s yours by rights. We should all just be content with what we have in this world. If only he could see that…”

Jean has tensed a little, Eren sees, and even he himself is starting to feel rather wrong-footed. Neither of them, it seems, truly grasps the depths of their friend’s distress. Bertolt, who is by now shirtless, looks over at them all with his brow furrowed, game and girl forgotten.

“Reiner-” Jean starts, but the older boy cuts him off by getting ponderously to his feet.

“Well, I mustn’t keep the girls waiting. Be free to do as you like. I’ll shoulder it all, as I said.” He vanishes into the second room soon after, leaving the lounge in a still silence.

Jean breaks it with a sigh. “And now’s as good a time as any to leave.” He pats Poppy on the shoulder. “I thank you kindly for the scintillating conversation, my lady, but alas, I must take my leave of your lovely presence.”

The whore giggles as she kisses his cheek and stands. “I’m no lady, milord, but I’m glad you like my yammering. It’s a nice change, it is.”

“A crescent for your time, in the manner of my friend here,” Jean grins, pressing the coin into the girl’s smaller palm and tapping her lightly on the hip.

Since when have we been friends? Eren wants to know, but the thought comes without spite. It isn’t such an appalling notion, that. He knows immediately then that he’s had three cups too many.

“You heading back?” Jean directs at him as he laces on his boots. He nods his affirmation and the two of them are soon departing the grandiose halls of the Cushion, leaving Bertolt and Bethany kissing hungrily over their game of cards as Poppy slipped into Reiner’s room, clearly looking to make most of her own night as well.

“Well, that was… an interesting way to end the night,” Jean comments as they make their way through the Red Walk and into the Golden District proper, home to the richer populace of the capital who just falls short of true nobility.

“I’ll say.” The cool night air is even more sobering than Reiner’s sad little speech, and Eren breathes it in, letting it wash away some of the dregs of his inebriation. He can still walk straight, he is pleased to note. In the distance, the city clocktower tolls Alyrya’s hour, the hour of the cat. “The Northern Matter haunts us all these days. I never thought it would follow me to a brothel, of all places.”

Jean makes a sound of assent. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over. Father’s quite strung up but he’s in much better spirits these days, thank the gods. Summer can’t come fast enough for him.”

“The progress’s only a week away, it’ll come soon enough.” They walk through the Lane of Kings, passing three stone Bertholds, an Ulrich, and an Urklyn before descending a set of steps, which Eren traverses gingerly for fear of tripping over his own feet and rolling down painfully the rest of the way (he does not roll, to his elation). “You northmen and your unruliness. Everything seems to happen because of you lot. Riots, uprisings, sedition, we get those from you every few years. I’m sure there are better ways to warm the blood up there than constant violence.”

“At least we have blood in our veins instead of the milk you have in your little southron bodies,” Jean rags, all northman all of a sudden, complete with brogue and inflection.

Eren blinks at him, thrown. “It’s so strange to hear you speak like that.”

“As opposed to the uppity midland court accent?” Jean laughs, speaking in kind once more.

“I suppose it’s easier to forget where one truly comes from in court.” The towers and turrets of Midford loom ever closer as they walk through the emptying streets.

“Not all the time. Times like this like to remind the lords of where their interests lie,” Jean says, as they slip down the more hidden side street to the west wing of the palace. A surly guard is on hand to greet them at the postern gate, which he swings open irritably with a quick jerk of his head. Eren hears him muttering something about cocksure lordlings under his breath once he and Jean are several paces away.

The palace is emptying as well. Dinner’s last few stragglers are making their way to their respective apartments, trailed by servants extinguishing chandeliers and lamps, and lighting smaller torches for the night. Lord Dot Pixis and Jean’s own father stroll by on the lower landing, deep in conversation. Where their interests lie, huh… “Times like this make you want to step away from all of that drivel.”

Jean follows Eren’s gaze to his father, and something flits across his face. “A pleasant thought but hard to realize. You can’t tell me your own lord father doesn’t have a stake in this whole matter.” He leaves Eren to his own devices then, descending the purple-carpeted steps they have just passed to hail Lord Kirschtein, vanishing into another hall with him and their lord vassal.

All that talk of stakes and matters is enough to turn anyone’s head, Eren thinks, a little peeved. I’m not drunk enough for this. He continues down the hall; he had as well sleep everything off. It is only when he passes a familiar tapestry that he realizes where he is headed.

The sight of the golden orb of Rhyzkov flying above the jagged teeth of a mountain range gives him pause.

He had told you about his night’s excursion with the lads earlier that day so you will not be expecting him tonight. And yet…

Eren presses on. He hopes you are awake and in your rooms, not gallivanting off with the Princess Historia in some obscure corner of the castle, giggling and whispering secrets. He goes down a bypath for a privy and takes a much-needed piss, feeling lighter once he empties his bladder. Sometimes, a piss really does feel better than a climax, especially on days like this.

Your face, when you open your door, is one of surprise. Robbed again. Your bedrobe tonight is a pretty confection of blue and violet satin embroidered with cranes and flowers in gold thread. The blue bleeding into the violet gives off the effect of a night sky, fitting for a nighttime garment, and for a time he stands before Ryneas herself, one half of the Lover’s whole and most beautiful of all the gods. Part of him (the part somewhere below his waist) still laments this very much covered-up vision, dazzling it may be.

“I thought you said you’d be out tonight,” you say, puzzled, one hand on the doorframe, the other on the door.

“Yes, but I decided to head back early.” He places a hand on the frame, just a bit above your own.

You frown at him. “How deep into your cups did you get?”

He pshaws at that. “I’ve only had the three cups.” He pauses, considering. “Maybe four.”

“Right.” You glance down the empty hallway and back at him, expression suddenly wary. Your grip on your door seems to tighten. “Perhaps you should head to bed, I don’t think you're-”

He interrupts you with a slow utterance of your name, leaning closer. His proximity makes you step away from him, and the wary look on your face deepens. You drop your hand from the frame; both hands now clutch at your door, poised to slam it shut if he so much as moves another inch. “I’ve drunk myself to impotence, so you don’t have to worry about me trying anything. And I did ask. My lady. If you would let me,” he adds, smirking a little at your sharp intake of breath. “I won't do anything without your express leave.”

Dragons and rain flash through his mind, as did yours, he can see as you stare at him with that most delectable look on your face, the very same you had given him all those weeks ago when he all but confessed to wanting to fuck you. Not that that went anywhere, he made sure of that, averse as he was to discomfit you with such attentions too soon (and too abruptly). The both of you have yet to address all of that in a more… abstemious environment, but it is more than enough to know that his suit is a long way away from being hopeless. At least, he believes so. If your responses to him then and now are any indication, though… he can trust to hope.

He pulls back at last, but not by much. Your grip on your door loosens. “You have nothing to fear,” he reiterates, more solemn now. “You’re not in danger of any rough wooing from me, I give you my word.”

A brief stillness shrouds the air between you. “I’ll hold you to your word,” you say finally, emerging from behind your door and closing it softly.

He smiles, triumphant. “I’d really like some company while I recover.”

“Recover how?”

“Tea, ice water, brandy, the best remedy for the grape. Or any sort of liquor, really,” he announces in the dimly lit silence of the servants’ dining hall sometime later, cradling his mug of tea as he sits across from you on the cornermost table on the left side of the room. The both of you were fortunate enough to catch Lisa’s girl, Sasha, sending some freckled squire off with an armload of foodstuffs as you entered the kitchen, and she had obligingly fixed you up with your drinks of choice before bidding you a good night, slipping out with a custard bun between her teeth.

“You’re surprisingly clearheaded for someone who’s had three, perhaps four cups of rum,” you observe, your hands wrapped around your own cup of tea, goldenglow as always.

“It’s ‘cause I pissed half the stuff out earlier,” he quips, giggling at your scrunched nose. “I could stand to be more clearheaded, though.”

“Yes, you can,” you mutter, taking a sip of your tea. “Did you leave the Cushion alone or did someone come with you?”

He finishes off his own tea and makes a start on his water. “Only Jean. The others were enjoying themselves too much to want to leave with us celibates.”

“Did you not enjoy yourselves, then? Slatterns weren’t charming enough for you?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning too widely lest he further incurs your wrath, but the way you practically spat out the words of your last sentence is most amusing. “Have I told you that jealousy becomes you?”

You shoot him an unimpressed look. “I distinctly recall giving you leave to take your pleasures where you will. If you do decide to make good on that, where you choose to dip your wick makes no matter to me.”

Why does it sound like it does? “And I distinctly recall telling you not to play that hand with me, Lady Rhyzkova.” Your eyes flash up to him, and he presses on, “I already told you, wed or no, I won’t do that to you. And it’s no weakness to admit to those feelings with someone you’re already in confidence with. I can admit the thought of you being that familiar with another man doesn’t sit well with me at all.”

Your little cough strikes him dumb, for some bizarre reason. It is a harmless enough sound but for the way Lady Rhyzkova seems to settle herself more firmly on her seat across from him, where moments ago he had thought her like to vanish at last. It seems a great deal hotter in the room all of a sudden. Dimly, he wonders who lit the furnaces.

“Who was he?”

Lady Rhyzkova takes the measure of him momentarily before answering, “Some boy.”

He lets a few heartbeats pass. When it becomes clear that nothing else is forthcoming, he pushes, “I suppose this boy has a name?”

“Like most boys, he does.”

I don't think this is a good time to play coy with me, my lady. “Dare I ask how far Some Boy got to play around with my lady?”

Your expression freezes over at once. “Not far enough, you can rest assured of that, my lord. Have no fear, I’ll still come to you a maid.” Disappointment flickers across your face so fast he almost misses it. “I didn’t know those things meant so much to you.”

The livid growling beast inside him shrinks back at your words and that briefest hint of dismay on your lovely features. “N-no, it’s not that, I’d never think you spoiled. You’re anything but! It’s just-”

I want you only for myself.

He tenses, his mouth drying more than it already has. In truth, the subject of maidenheads means less to him than a rat’s ass. Yet, somehow, yours matter, but not in the way you think. He is slowly coming to find that the matter of your maidenhead is less about you needing to be as pure as the driven snow for him and more about his need to be your first and only one in all things carnal.

Eren’s fingers tighten around his cool mug, as though the chill may help him sort out his feelings. But the more he thinks about it, the more he finds himself wanting to be the first to kiss you, the first to know every curve and dip and inch of you, the first to have you. And to learn that someone else has the privilege of claiming even one of those firsts for you angers him more than anything else ever has.

“It’s just…?”

Your voice breaks him from his contemplative trance, and he looks up into Rhyzkova’s cool, beautiful mask-like visage. Another sense of stillness settles over you, this one more pregnant than the last.

“It’s just as I said earlier,” he says finally. “You being that familiar with another man doesn’t sit well with me. You can never be despoiled for me, never. A hundred men could have had you and I’ll still call you unspoiled. But knowing someone else had the honor to know you that way… it doesn’t sit well with me at all.”

“He never went that far, Some Boy,” you state, after a while. “Kisses, a touch or two, but he never went that far. He was never bold enough.” The way you look at him as you say those last few words strikes a chord with him. Why, it sounds almost like a challenge…

"I-I see." The mug of water is rapidly losing its chill. He downs it all in a couple of gulps, miraculously never spilling a drop, and tosses back the half-filled glass of brandy. He almost wishes it is stronger.

“It didn’t sit well with me, you visiting the brothel tonight.” You look down at your cup, mouth pursed. “I may give you leave but it will never sit well with me should you choose to take me at my word.” You smile a little then. “I’m glad to know that words are more than wind with you. And that you think me still unspoiled. Most men would turn their noses up at even half-used goods.”

He frowns at you. “You’re not chattel, why should I treat you like it?”

Your smile widens into something more real, and it is like watching the sun break through gray drabness after a week’s worth of rain. The silence that falls then is as comfortable as a feather-down quilt.

“I want to show you something,” he pipes up when you finally finish your tea. At your curious look, he tacks on, “It’s in the kitchens, you’ll see.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you out of the servants’ dining hall into the adjoining kitchens, taking one of the two torches Sasha had lit to guide your way. The faint smell of food lingering about the place makes his stomach rumble. He ought to have asked the girl for some nibbles, he thinks regretfully, but perks up once he notices a barrel marked ‘apples’ beside the very spot he wants to show his betrothed.

The barrel’s lid is already loosened, to his delight. He grabs a couple of apples and pitches one to you. “You wanted to show me apples?” you sally, and grin at his look.

“No, my exceedingly witty friend, I wanted to show you this perfectly made stone ledge.” There it sat between a wooden rack of baking tools and the apple barrel, perfectly gray, square, inconspicuous. A couple of empty wicker baskets perch atop it, adding to its perfect inconspicuousness.

“It is… certainly well-made,” you remark, running your fingers over the smooth stone before looking at him quizzically.

He grins as he searches for that third stone on the right, finding it and pressing; he snatches the baskets off cat-quick, carelessly depositing them atop the nearby barrel as the ledge sinks down into the ground with nary a sound and jerk to reveal the entrance to a dark passageway.

“That it is,” he replies, grin threatening to split his face at your shock as you stare at the passage with your mouth open.

“When did you find this?” You take a step closer, eyes flashing around the black cavern.

He grabs your hand once more and leads the way into the tunnel. The ledge slides quietly back into place as you proceed further forward, plunging you into complete darkness broken only by the orange light of Eren’s torch. “Armin and I found it some years back. We don’t usually go through here since it leads outside of the palace.”

“Where does this one lead?”

His smile, when it comes, is as mysterious as can be. “You’ll see.”

You step out into the blue-white wash of lamplight, on the quayside by the Woodisle, right beneath the royal gardens. You gasp in astonishment. “We’re in the riverside below the gardens.”

Eren mumbles his agreement, placing the torch on a sconce beside the hidden entrance behind the stone likeness of Richard I, the mind behind passages such as the one you just slipped through. The cool night air is refreshing, and it helps ease the liquor’s hold on him just that bit more.

“We just picnicked here the other day, there by the apple tree,” your voice floats back to him as you stand by the riverbank, gazing up at the huge black mass that is some woman’s monument.

“So you said.” He goes to join you, then bends down to unlace his boots and roll up the legs of his pants. “Flo is quite the character.” He sits beside the lamp’s plinth, shins sinking deep into riverwater.

You do likewise, sliding your white silk slippers off and lifting your robe to your knees as you settle down. Eren eyes the smooth perfection of your calves as they dip down into the black waters, and averts his gaze. He reaches into his pocket for his apple and takes a large bite to distract himself. The juice bursts on his tongue, sweet and tart in equal measure.

“Flo’s a sweet little thing but she can be such a handful,” you laugh, starting on your own apple. “Gave her mistresses quite the scare with that lark in the river.”

“If I pass out and get washed away by the river now, will you come and rescue me?” he asks, all guileless eyes and unaffected looks.

“You’re too heavy. We’ll both drown.”

“So you think me fat.”

Your gaze roams down his form a moment, lingering at his partly bared chest, before you look away. “I didn’t say that.”

His apple is now down to its core. Eren chucks it into the river and watches as the current bears it away, bobbing and turning. “Progress starts next week.”

“It’s that close already, huh… before we know it, autumn will be upon us again.” You take your last bite but do not discard your apple, turning the core over your hands slowly as you speak.

“Autumn and home, for you.” Lights still burn amongst the many buildings of Belris, banked and less numerous than its waking hours.

“I can’t wait to show you,” you beam, and your excitement feeds his own. He paddles his legs against the current, the water swirling around his limbs. “Speaking of the progress, though…” You pick at the remaining flesh of the fruit in your hands. “This one’s going to be momentous.”

It really is haunting us all. “And the North’ll finally quiet down and leave the realm in peace for another couple of years until their next grievance.”

You snicker. “If the gods are good, they should.” The wind runs light fingers through your hair and sends the pale ghostly petals of the apple blossoms flying into the air like unseasonal snow. “That lawyer must be an astoundingly good one to sway His Majesty so. That or the king’s finally tired of his favorite pet. That’s better for you and yours, yes?”

“Father did say the man has a silver tongue.” Having been well-acquainted with it himself. There is no doubt that the man is interesting, interesting enough to have a private audience with in his own solar. Eren can only imagine what manner of intrigues and propositions they spoke about then.

You lob your own core into the river, which makes a small splash as it hits the water before tumbling away. “Of course he does. Lawyers can’t do without one of those, after all.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

***

A/N:

The Northern Matter is looming larger and lurks in all POVs, no matter what they're focusing on at the time - it'll still be sometime when true hostilities rise but they have to start somewhere...

But I did love getting inside alcohol-affected Eren's mind - he's an entertaining boy when he's had a drop or so, haha. Made him admit to really, truly wanting YN (for himself) - and a jealous Eren is a rather risky thing. Tread carefully 👀

Also, ajsdjashdsdhsks I am REALLY toying with the idea of writing a smutty one-shot about EreYN if they did consummate the relationship much earlier than planned... but then idk if that'll take away from the actual scene when they finally do it... but then The Smut is... a LONG way away, lmao, so would the one-shot matter??? Idk, I'll think about it... I WILL write it, but we'll see if I post, ahahaha... 😅

Oh, and I thought I'd post (finally, idk why I didn't post the thing earlier) a very simple map of Lovaya instead of letting it gather dust in my Trello board. This better gives one an idea of what Tybur has to lose:

And I can't post Lovaya without posting the Known World. Just for scale. We have the 7 living continents (Eldia is darkened out and dead), and a hint of Paradis in the Anderven continent. Basically, think of Lovaya as something like Australia, both a continent and a country divided into 8 States.

Thank you so, so much for reading and taking an interest!!! ❤❤❤ I hope I can still deliver the rest of the story well and I'm really looking forward to what's coming next and I hope you guys are, too!

Tagging: @princess-jaeger @lukepattersin​ @erentoes

[misscoolisback123]

Ships that I like from my favorite animes:

Naruto- Sasuhina, Narusaku, Nejisaku, and Shikahina

Bleach- Ichiruki, Byahime, Byaren, Byasoi, and Ishinemu, along with Renjihime and Ulquihime

Attack On Titan- Erehisu and Jeankasa

Ships That I hate from these shows

Naruto- Sasunaru, Sasusaku, and Sasukarin.

Bleach- Byaruki, Renruki, Ichihime, Shunsui x Nanao, and Aizen x Momo

Attack On Titan- Yumikuri, Reikuri, Levi x Petra, Levi x Eren, Eren x Annie, Armin x Annie, King Fritz x Ymir and Eremika.

Weird ships that I like:

Byakuya Kuchiki x reader, Byakuya Kuchiki x Ymir Fritz as an adult, Naruto x Historia Reiss, and many more

Why I don't ship it:

Naruto- Sasunaru because they were basically brothers

Sasusaku because Sakura only liked Sasuke for his appearance and was obsessed with him

Sasukarin because it's the same as Sasusaku but worse

Bleach- Byaruki because Rukia is Byakuya Kuchiki's adopted sister. The same goes for his deceased wife Hisana because she never loved him, and he's over her. So basically, I don't ship Byahisa. People need to understand that she never loved him.

Renruki because they had more of a brother and sister dynamic

Ichihime because it's similar to Sasusaku

Shunsui x Nanao because she's his niece

Aizen x Momo because he stabbed her

Attack On Titan- Yumikuri because Historia was never gay and 104th Ymir only liked her as "Krista" and Historia only saw her as a sister and mother figure, and Historia is most likely bisexual or aromantic

Reikuri because like 104th Ymir he only liked "Krista" and he thought that Historia would be the same he's a simp for her.

Levi x Petra because she wasn't a major character and admiration can mean different things.

Levi x Eren because Levi was an asshole towards him, and he was more like a father figure for him

Eren x Annie for various reasons I can't explain

Armin x Annie because he never showed interest in her up until he inherited the colossal titan. This leads people to believe that Armin inherited the characteristics of Berthold as a result of inheriting the colossal titan because anyone who is a titan shifter, and once they shift into a titan some of their human characteristics stay with their titan form such as eye color, hair color and sometimes facial features. This could probably apply to personality as well.

King Fritz x Ymir Fritz because he enslaved her as a child, cut her tongue out, and used her as a weapon after she was saved from death by the creature in the tree after it gave her the founding titan. He also did awful things to her as she got older, and not once did she crack a smile, and the ending of her being in love with the king was an ass pull, and it contradicts chapter 122

Last but not least is Eremika because they were adopted siblings, and Grisha has acknowledged her as his own daughter. When the show was still being produced by "WIT," a majority of the scenes with Eremika were actually supposed to be Eren and Armin and their friendship. It's like Sasusaku in a way, but at least Sakura doesn't go around acting like a creeper when Sasuke is talking to another girl or woman, especially if said girl is a child and said woman is an elderly woman who is in a wheelchair.

There you have it! If you want to discuss these ships with me, feel free to message me unless it's around 8:00 pm. Sorry if I came across as a homophobe for some of the ships.

[youfreakinturltle]

Meet Me on the Battlefield

Reiner x Reader one-shot

Summary: (Y/N) and Reiner were in the 104th cadet corps together, both being in the top 10, having fallen for each other before graduating. (Y/N) was originally planning to join the MP’s after graduating but changed course once realizing Reiner was signing up for the Scouts. When the truth came to light of Reiner, Berthold, and Annie’s origins, and the plan to capture them was underway, (Y/N) secretly saved Reiner’s life. Now 4 years later, the two meet again when Marley launches their attack on Paradis and the walls begin to crumble.

Warnings: Rated M for the following: violence, language, mentions of death and betrayal, spoilers for season 4!

Eren… Tell me you aren’t…

Just as the thought entered your head, you heard an awful splitting noise coming from above you and Mia, whom you found after she was separated from the Braus family. You looked up in horror to see the walls beginning to crumble. Before you can even think, you’re yanking Mia into your arms in attempt to shield her from the rocks that will surely crush you. But somehow they don’t. You look up in shock as the rubble falls around you.

Reiner.

Keeping your arms tightly wound around Mia, you realize with a start that he’s shielding the two of you. But his titan looks different now and it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

His armor, where did it go? I distinctly remember it being in tact while fighting Eren…

As the rocks stop falling you feel the ground begin to shake. Looking around his titan’s arm you see titans the stretching into the sky, countless surrounding you. And as much as you pray otherwise, they begin to move, making their way to the coast.

Above you, you hear a release of steam and are startled back to your senses. Releasing Mia you tell her to stay put as you run out from under the titan. You engage your ODM gear and go flying up to Reiner who is in the process of detaching himself from his titan. You come to a stop a few feet away from him and can do nothing but stare at the man who has held your heart in a vice grip for six years. Rising to his feet, Reiner turns to face you, his eyes widening when he sees you standing there.

“(Y/N)… Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you? I tried getting here-“

Before he can say any more, you fly at him, throwing a punch into his jaw. Reiner goes skidding back and holding onto his jaw, looks at you with pain in his eyes. The same look he gave you that day.

“You left me.” You can think of nothing else to say, overwhelmed with the old wounds that were being torn open. “You promised. Why?”

You see a tear leave his eyes when he hears the pain in your voice.

“We should get back to the ground. It’ll be gone soon.” Upon hearing this, you take notice of the increasing steam rising around you. You stomp over to him and throw an arm around his waist, engaging your ODM gear to get you both back on solid ground. As soon as you land you start to let go of him. Instead though, Reiner throws his other arm around you and pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry. Truly, (Y/N/N). I wanted more than anything to but… Zeke, he… Well, he wouldn’t allow it. It was safer to leave you behind.” Despite him having buried your face into his chest, you can still hear the tears in his voice. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N/N). I missed you so much. I understand if you hate me-“

At this you shove him away. “You understand? Do you really though, Reiner? Do you think you’re the only one that noticed I missed that shot?”

“Of course not. Everyone knows you’re second only to Mikasa. You made the rest of us in the 104th look like chumps.”

“Exactly!” You see him jump a little at your outburst, but you’re too overwhelmed with rage and hurt to care. “Do you have any idea what I went through after you left?! Everyone accused me of being a traitor! Even Sasha and Connie didn’t trust me! I was interrogated for weeks by MY OWN COMRADES!! It took me over a year to be allowed back in the elite squad! Did you ever even realize I joined the Scouts because of you?! I could’ve been an MP and not been involved at all!! But I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. Even after everything. And I hated myself for it. Even I didn’t know if I was a traitor for a long time. All I knew was that I loved you so much I was willing to become one. And… Shit. You know, I don’t care anymore. I’m too tired to keep caring. Traitor or not, I love you.”

By the end of your rant, both of you have tears streaming down your cheeks. Before you realize what’s happening, Reiner has rushed forward and crashed his lips onto yours. Closing your eyes, your hands feverishly grip at his shirt, kissing him back with reckless abandon. Every emotion you had buried over the past four years comes bubbling to the surface and suddenly, you’re not sure how you could even breathe without him. As you part you feel his warm breath ghost across your lips and for the first time in years, you feel yourself smile.

“Uh… Reiner?” You hear Mia say from behind you, causing you to jump away from Reiner. “I take it this is the ‘girl from your childhood’?” Despite the slight unease in her voice, you also catch a little snicker.

“Wait… How do you two know each other?” You ask looking between the two, catching a slight resemblance.

“Um… My name is actually Gabi. I’m Reiner’s cousin. And well… I’m the one who… I killed-“

“No. You don’t need to say it. I may not have been there on the mission, but I heard. We’ve already forgiven you so there’s no need talking about it.” As you finish you see her let out a breath and her shoulders slouch a little.

Poor kid. It’s bullshit what she’s been through.

“Come on, we should find cover somewhere for the time being,” you say, taking Reiner’s hand and turning to walk down the street.

“Thank you. She’s a good kid.” You turn to look at him with a small smile on your face. Giving his hand a squeeze you tell him you could see that. “I love you, (Y/N/N). I hope you can give me another chance when this is all over.”

You sigh before saying “Hmm… Nah.” Out of the corner of your eye you can see the shock register on him before you quickly follow up with, “but I could do so now. I’m done wasting time worrying. I just want you. That’s all. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Reiner stops in his tracks and just stares at you for a second until you turn to look at him. He abruptly blurts out, “Marry me.” A blush immediately spreads across his face and neck as he tries to backpedal, “I mean- uh- I- well- shit.”

You open your mouth to reply when you both hear an outburst of giggles come from behind you. Looking over his shoulder at Gabi, you let out a laugh with a toothy grin before turning back to Reiner.

“Do you even have to ask? Of course. Now come on, you’ve always been terrible at hiding injuries.”

You take hold of his hand again and begin walking, this time holding on a little tighter.

[bluebirdsboi]

Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin Masterlist | Last Updated: 6/12/23

Key

Fluff = 🥰 | Angst = 😢 | Smut = 🥵| Hurt Comfort = 🩹 Platonic = 🤝 Headcanons = 📝 | ABC Headcanons = 👩‍🏫 | Oneshot = 📘 | Series = 📚 AU = 🌎 | Songfic = 🎵 Male Reader = 💙 | Gender Neutral Reader = 💜 | Female x Female = 💖 Story on hold = ✋ | Character on hold = 🔒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Berthold Hoover

Coming soon... 

Eren Jager 

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Erwin Smith

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Jean Kirshtein

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Levi Ackerman

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Marco Bodt

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Mike Zacharias

When they catch you singing 34+35 🥵 | 📝 | 🌎 | 💙

Fluff Alphabet Headconanons 🥰 | 👩‍🏫 | 💜

Erwin’s Inner Circle & Squad Levi 📚 | 💙 | ✋: Prologue

Porco Galliard

Coming soon... 

Reiner Braun

Coming soon... 

Zeke Jager

Coming soon...

[swagging-back-to]

besties just hear me out.. hear me out for a second.

Voltron x attack titan cross over aus. Mainly the voltron cast thrown into the plot of attack titan.

Just hear me out! this is mostly just me figuring out the au so it's rambly as all hell. there's TWO versions of this i want to explore. both are klance btw because DUH.

It wouldnt be a 1:1 crossover because obv. and It'd be lance centric obv cause he's my boy. So Lance --> eren.

Hunk fits armin's role almost perfectly. hunk is a relatively curious type of guy, takes punches with grace and doesnt hit back out of kindness--not out of weakness.

Pidge is hanji reimagined, basically. Although she's technically younger than lance and hunk, this au would make her slightly older than them. I'd lessen the age gap between senior officers and new recruits by a couple years so the difference isnt so intense. Coran would also occupy some aspects of hanji's character, but very loosely. He's like a bridge between hanji and erwin--silly but also holds more authority than the paladins.

Erwin could be occupied by allura. I dont think this one requires much elaboration.

Shiro would be Levi's character (even tho im canon ereri, im willing to change my preferred dynamics for the au.) this is mainly because Shiro is always tired, and responsible for a bunch of kids, and i know having to beat the shit out of any of his kids would tear him apart (referencing the court scene.)

so who would occupy misas actual role??? keith, of course. "BUT WAIT, MISA AND EREN DONT GET TOGETHER IN CANON?" i hear you saying, but luckily this isnt a 1:1 au. Misa and eren butt heads (LITERALLY) multiple times, misa is a badass killing machine, misa is an orphan, misa admires eren and eren is envious of misa. It literally just works for this au.

Moblit's character can be filled by coran and hunk collectively and at the same time that the two are occupying other character roles.

The galrans would probably be molded to fit into the marleyans, but i dont really care who becomes who. I feel like Lotor being Zeke just kinda makes sense, though. Zethrid would be reiner, ezor would fill berthold's shoes simply because of how close she is with zethrid. Axca is DEFINITELY 100% annie. that leaves narti as pieck. IDK about the war hammer and jaw titans, though. Not even a single clue. Maybe Haggar could have the war hammer, seeing as she never actually joins the fight if she has any chance of losing (like a coward) and always fights from far off the battlefield. genuinely no clue for ymir though.

Alternate idea; Pidge could also fit armin's role, simply because of both their intelligences. I debated having pidge fill misa's role because her familys death would drive her to become a badass fighting machine, but i feel like she doesnt fit the role as perfectly as i'd like...

So, although pidge technically embodies some aspects of misa's character, and hunk represents armin's character, i think the living situations could be reversed. On one hand it would be funny if lance and pidge squabbled like misa and eren do in canon, but i genuinely cant see pidge fretting over lance like a mother hen. That's why i think hunk should be the one taken in by the ''jaegers'' instead of pidge. Pidge's father and maybe matt would occupy the role that armin's grandfather had.

[simpywriter]

Favourite position during sex

Universe: Any Characters: Levi, Eren, Jean, Reiner, Berthold Warnings: smut, 18+

Levi

Our fidget spinner is reserved and it’s obvious that he wouldn’t want you to see his vulnerable side. During sex he’d probably let all his emotions out, so he's most likely to to hide his expressions from you; sex wouldn’t be just a way to let out steam, but also to feel a physical contact to someone, just give some love to this man, he deserves the world. I feel like his favourite way to take you would be lying on your side on the bed and hugging you from behind; this way he’d be able to control the speed and the force of his thrusts by reading your body language, kiss you and also hide his face against your shoulder if he feels the need to. Also… he’d be ready to spoon you right after your climaxes. He’s so precious.

Eren

He would definitely take you against a wall. It’s difficult to think about S1-S3 Eren (not only because of his age but also because of his personality, he gives so much innocent vibes), so we’re going to analize man-bun Eren only. He’s absolutely a dom and I can picture him as one for mainly one-night stands, better still if we’re talking about public sex. He’d fuck you against a wall lowering his pants just a bit and putting your legs around his waist while he pounds into you with harsh passion. If you are particularly loud, count on finding yourself biting his hand.

Jean

He’s a switch, you can’t change my mind. He’s so cute and he would like you taking control in bed, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t be willing to pin you against the mattress. Like Levi he needs to feel loved, he needs affection but unlike the captain he won’t have any problem with facing you. Jean is so cute, I love him. He would have you on top of him, hugging you and lifting his hips to meet your movements, all this kissing your lips or your neck, leaving hickeys on your collarbone and chest and whispering how much he loves you in your ear.

Reiner

This big guy is so down to any position in bed: with those strong arms he can easily lift you on or against any surface, he’d enjoy a slow and passionate rhythm with you under him and he would also love feeling your back against his chest as he pounds inside you doggy style. But his absolute favourite way to fuck you is with you on top of him. He loves to see you bouncing on him as he guides your movements with his big and firm hands, and he can cum just by the feeling of your nails scratching his abs. He’d die happy if his last memory was of you riding him and moaning his name loudly.

Berthold

Berthold would certainly want to see his SO’s face. I think he's more likely to like a really vanilla-type position, like the missionary. He'd be soft and delicate and sweet during sex, interwining his fingers with yours or bracing himself on his elbows to be able to take your head between his palms. Berthold is also the type to hide his face in the crook of your neck out of embarrassment as you look at him with rosy cheeks and half-lowered eyelids, at the same time whispering sweet nothings as he keeps giving gentle but intense thrusts.

[Maybe I can do a part two, let me know who you'd like to add :)]

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this headcanon you can leave a like or a comment and if you have time you can check my Ao3. Hope you enjoyed!

[fischltao]

╔══════════════╗

AOT SQUIRTING HEADCANONS

╚══════════════╝

request by: @multi-fandoms-stuff

"can I pretty request an imagine for aot eren, erwin, levi, connie, armin, jean, reiner, bertolt, ymir, and mikasa about them making there s/o squirt for the first time and there reaction, have the reader get all shy and trys to hide her face??"

notes: ahhh thank you so much for requesting, again im very sorry for the delay and late update, im back on writing now!

warnings: smut, squirting, overstimulation, bodily fluids

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Eren Jeager:

You and Eren have got it going on for a few hours with him and his titan stamina plunging into you without letting you rest for a minute. You haven't even kept track of how long it's been or how many times he's made you cum that night, only focusing on his cock stretching you open and the way he is holding your throat. It's not long until your next orgasm arrives but oh, this time it feels different and suddenly you're squirting all over him and his cock as he keeps fucking you deeper and harder.

"Eren, I need to clean up, Im so sorry I didn't know this would happen, oh my-" You wail while pushing your hands over your face but instead of him stopping he just snaps his hips against yours harder and says:

"No. You're doing it again" Needless to say, you do, indeed.

Erwin Smith:

On your break you had snuck inside Erwin's office to steal a couple of kisses which soon ended up with you laying on the table all over his paperwork and him taking out his emotions on your poor pussy, to the point where you swear someone's going to walk in with a noise complain- not just due to your loud moans- but also due to the fact that his unsteady table is repeatedly creaking on the wooden floor.

"Erwin, I'm so close, Erwin I-ERWIN" You scream as you realize what is actually happening and not being able to hold it in. Both of you are freaking the fuck out. On any other situation he would find this really hot and treat you so good for squirting on him but you just came all over important papers which needed to be delivered awfully soon and neither has zero idea of what the hell you're supposed to do now. You freaking out must have been even louder than your sex noises and now you're adamant that everyone heard.

This was a different walk of shame

Levi Ackerman:

He had just changed the sheets to your shared bedroom when you walked in half naked after your shower, instantly igniting something inside him. The past few weeks had been really tiring for both and the only way to take your exhaustion away was having you bounce on his cock until you were in tears and shaking.

"You're gonna cum baby? I'm so fucking close too" He whispered in your ear like a lullaby in-between heavy breaths as he moved your hair out of your face and locked his eyes with yours. His movements were so gentle and passionate until you both grew desperate for your release and soon he was guiding your hips faster and sloppier while smacking your ass. It wasn't long until you started shaking while he filled you up. After you both came down from your highs you gained awareness of your surroundings and immediately shrunk to yourself.

"What are you hiding away for?"

"You just changed the sheets"

"I can always put another ones" He said awkwardly as you tried to shift away from his lap, when he pulled you right back in "It would be a shame if i changed them while they're only this wet. We might as well just ruin them completely"

Connie Springer:

Sasha and Jean were sleeping on the couch next to you after a nice dinner and Connie was feeling really turned on, right from the start of the night when you felt his fingers creeping up inside your panties and circling over your clit before teasing their way inside.

"Can we at least go somewhere isolated? I feel bad for-" You choked trying not to make a sound as his finger where now dipping in and out of your cunt in a desperate need of feeling your walls clench around them "Connie-"

"It's too comfy here, try to be more quiet baby" He whispered back as he lifted your skirt and pushed his tip inside not letting it all in but rather slipping it in and then pulling out and rubbing on your clit until you felt yourself cumming. Hard.

You were trying so hard to not make a noise until you realized what actually happened and turned around to look at your boyfriend in shock with heat rising up your cheeks. This cheeky motherfucker was looking back at you with the biggest smirk before plunging his entire length inside. Definitely proud of himself... And you definetely have to clean up before a) Jean and/or Sasha wake up b) Captain Levi haunts your dreams.

Jean Kirschstein:

Jean and you had been sent on different expenditions for the week so it was safe to say that you really missed spending time with each other. And him inside you.

Once he closes his room's door he already has you pushed against the wall and taking you right there while standing up. Jean is the romantic type but missing you made him desperate for your touch. You were sure you were seeing stars at one point, the way he pressed against you was magnificent and it just kept getting better and better until you felt the bubble inside you burst and soon your juices were everywhere on the floor. Everywhere.

You instantly felt like hiding away and audibly apologized while he still fucked the shit out of you. Confused he started slowing down and voiced his concern over your sudden apology until he realized what went down and blushed. 'Thats it, its over' you thought. Suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. A huge smile crept on his face "I made you squirt! Oh my god you look so hot, I bet Eren would never be able to make a girl sq-" He exclaimed before you kicked his leg.

Armin Arlet:

Armin is such a sweet young man. He had you laid on the bed for him as he slowly fucked into you, gasping in between kisses and telling you just how much he loves you. Gaining more confidence in yourself your moans became louder and louder and soon his pace changed into sharp and quick thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train and cherished the way he was the one to make you scream and breathe like that. He felt so blessed that you chose him as the man to have inside your velvet walls and-

Why is the bed wet? Did the rain get through the wooden roof? Why are you trying to hide away? Armin genuinely had no clue.

"Is everything okay baby? Do you feel uncomfortable with the waters?" He asked as more color rose up to your cheeks, refusing to look in his eyes as you awkwardly tried to explain what had happened was not a leak in the roof "What did you say?"

"I squirted"

"Oh"

"Yes"

"This is way more exciting than a leaking roof...Way more"

Reiner Braun:

Reiner is an emotional man and it shows when you get intimate with each other. One time he has you on all fours, with a finger deep in your asshole as he rails your guts.

"Noone else can fuck you like that fuck- what is it baby, is there anyone else that will fuck you this good? Have you crying from their cock? Use your words princess come on" He gasped as his own tears were threatening to fall, seeking emotional validation as well as pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence while sobbing "Didn't think so darling, you're such a whore for me"

And in the heat of the moment the offspring of his actions and words erupted from your throat as a loud scream and your juices squirted all over his lap for the first time. The sighting made Reiner cum in an instant and neither had the energy to talk about it, until he embraced you tightly from behind and thanked you for allowing him to be with you and sharing your most vulnerable moment with him.

Berthold Hoover:

His cock felt so good as you bounced on it . In a way it was therapeutic and for the past 7 minutes you've been in this position you've felt constantly on the edge and your thighs burned until sweet release washed you over and soon you were clasping poor Bert's shoulders as you screamed and squirted all over him while he pulled his dick out of your spent pussy and slapped its head on your clit as he watched more liquid come out.

After your orgasm died down a little, instant shame washed over you and you tried hopping away before he hugged you tightly and swayed you without realizing that hes accidentally rubbing you on his cock again and that you are about to pass out....

Ymir:

Ymir is a big tease. A really big one. Proof being her refusing to finally push her fingers inside your soaked slit, instead choosing to just rub up and down while slipping half an inch inside before you grew desperate and moved your own fingers to your clit and rubbing vigorously.

"Fuck" You heard her exclaim before plunging two of her fingers inside "Don't stop touching yourself baby, wanna make you cum like that" She commanded as her fingers dove in and out as fast as she could while you screamed under her touch. Your orgasm came fast and before you knew it, Ymir was soaking wet with your juices . "Never knew my girl could squirt, makes me wish I ate you out instead" She says before diving in.

Mikasa Ackerman:

It was a quiet night with Mika as you laid on your bed next to each other. Your conversation ended with your fingers in her pussy and hers in yours. Both struggled with the pace as you chased your release and her moans in your ear caused you to lose control and instantly let go and clench around her fingers as clear liquid soaked the sheets right beneath you and she turned her head to look at you in awe.

"I'm so sorry Mikasa I didn't know this would-"

"Do you think I can do this too?" She asked with flushed cheeks and an innocent look on her face.

"Eh? Squirt?" You asked and before she had the chance to nod you took out the dildo from your drawer and plunged it deep into her dripping pussy.

[moorswanderer]

screaming, crying, shitting tears on the bathroom floor

[rivapetosprmcy]

Official Attack On Titan art from the animation gallery and studio wit as well! ft. Kohei Nagashii's season 1 end card of the Levi-Squad and Levi and Petra.

[yikimiki]

Reiner is this type o men who oftenly make a poor decision and regret soon after...a sweet bf but can be a pain in the ass

Bruh 100%... this is cannon.

It happens in every area of his life, sadly. He buys a huge TV on a whim, even if he knows neither of you are home most of the time, and watching stuff in the old, small one was just fine. Reiner (almost) adopts a dog after jogging past an animal shelter, even if he knows none of you have the time, space or patience to take care of a pet — the only thing stopping him being you. Invests on bitcoin without having a clue of how it works, only to lose a considerable amount of money in like an hour. Starts a new “healthy” diet only to get horrible gas for a week. And, of course, tries new toys and positions with you without really having a clue about what he’s doing. But he’s well-meaning and magically manages to fix most of his irrational decisions with a divine mixture of perseverance and luck.

[ike-bana]

First time changing diapers(Attack on Titan X reader)

A/N: Just a little something extra while we wait for my lazy butt to finish those requests. This is just based on my own opinion and is not 100% accurate. If you want me to make one for my other fandoms please feel free to comment or ask me!

Summary: How do the various Attack on Titan Characters change their new born's diaper

Cw: None asides a swear word or two

Changes it effortlessly with no hesitation: Erwin, Hange, Yelena, Levi, Zeke

Is unsure of themselves but ends up handling it just fine : Armin, Sasha, Historia, Marco, Berthold,Petra

Tries but somehow ends up putting the diaper on the baby's head instead : Connie,Jean,Reiner,Marlo

Let's their S/O handle it : Mikasa, Eren,Reiner,Hitch

Says "Fuck this, I'm not doing this shit" : Eren,Ymir,Jean