#you are only making it more of an issue by spreading it around without any warning

[coquettefrancaise]

your hands are cold

from Pride and Prejudice (2005)

pair: Azriel x Reader ~ 4.8k

warnings: mysogony (not from az), risque thoughts from reader, sharing a bed ooooh, shadow violence, protective azriel

summary: Azriel would give you the shirt off his back if he knew you were cold and he's trying so so hard to make you see that

Illyrian's lived in the snowy mountains of the Night Court. Thick blankets of snow fell year-round, the sun scarcely offering a reprieve from the constant bite of wind. By the time the children were old enough to run and wield a stick the boys were thrust into training and the girls into house/camp work. Everyone grew to adapt to it, their bodies functioning at an unnaturally high temperature.

Although Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian had lived away from Illyria and the camps for multiple centuries now, they still grew overly warm during the earlier seasons. Both a curse and a blessing.

So why the hel didn't anyone tell you to bring a thicker coat?

Being the night court's newly appointed emissary, you were tasked to go to Illyria to comb over some of the issues stirring up. Specifically concerning the female's training. Surprise surprise.

Thankfully, Azriel had offered to come with. Rhys had given him a smirk, looking between the two of you but Azriel winnowed you before you could decipher what that look meant.

You now stood outside the training ring with him as Devlon and two of his croonies made up some half-assed excuses as to why they weren't prioritizing the females training.

"-we have two new mother's in the area who need the extra support." Devlon ranted, clearly exasperated that his high lord was continuing to harp on this matter.

You looked up to Azriel who was watching the pathetic male with a clenched jaw. He loosened it to say, "Have the father's help then. If they can't care for their own children then they should keep it in their pants."

You refrained from giggling but remained indifferent. Some of the people you worked with were open to your messages while others were... Devlon. And Beron, you supposed. You had to tread lightly because one misstep and they would prod at the weakness until you couldn't handle it. 

"All of our males are needed in training to ensure that they stay in shape. Those females shouldn't have spread their legs so fast." Devlon drawled.

"Surely Rhys would be willing to reenact the castration laws." You said without thinking, glaring at him. "You wouldn't mind being first on the list, would you?"

Devlon only ignored you.

Even with the ire coursing through your veins, you shivered. You were supposed to have been here for an hour max. Get in, yell at them, get out. Unsurprisingly, there was more to fix than you had assumed.

Azriel side-eyed you as you shook from the cold and held out his hand to Devlon. "Coat."

Devlon paused, glaring at the shadowsinger's scarred hand as if it held the plague. "What?"

"Give me your coat. Now."

The words sent an entirely different kind of chill through you. One that made your eyes widen at the hostile calm with which he said it. Sure, you'd heard that tone once or twice, but it never failed to impel you to stand straighter even if it wasn’t aimed for you. 

Devlon scoffed. "I'm not giving you my coat. Who do—"

Shadows crept up around Azriel's feet, climbing his tall, hard body until they amassed near the siphons at his hands, contrasting starkly with the pure white snow that fell around him. With the tendrils of darkness poised to strike, paired with the unforgiving look on Azriel's face, he made a hauntingly beautiful picture. Feyre would be distraught she hadn't been here to capture it.

Not a second further, Devlon took his coat off and placed it in the shadowsinger's waiting palm. His own hand trembling, you noted with smugness.

Azriel stayed silent as he flicked it once. Twice. Until he was certain it was free of any contamination, and then turned to you, a far softer expression pulling at his achingly handsome features. He then stepped forward and brought the coat around your shoulders, encircling you in his arms to fasten the buttons.

Time stopped and you took the chance to study him. The mussed locks of hair from running his hands through it every time Devlon opened his mouth. The smooth planes of his tanned skin. His enviably dark, long lashes framing those all-seeing hazel eyes. And his mouth... if you were a poet you would write odes about it. Both admiring and wicked.

You blushed.

"Is this alright?" he asked softly.

You slowly nodded, words stuck in your throat due to his close proximity.

His fingers brushed against your throat softly and he pulled away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

When the argument started back up again, you found that while your upper body was warming up, your legs and feet were still at the mercy of the breeze.

Azriel looked to you again and released a heavy sigh. "We'll send healers to perform check-ups on the babes and new mothers. The other females will train as normal. And you will speak to the court's emissary with respect." He told Devlon, voice final.

"I have no idea why he has a weak female performing court check-ups." Devlon bit out, no doubt angry at having been pressed into submission and having his coat stolen.

One second you could see clearly, and the next your vision was clouded by swarming darkness. Instinctively, your hand shot out to find Azriel, fear twisting your stomach at the thought of being attacked or—

You barely had time to call out for him when the darkness vacuumed back to its origin—Azriel.

He now stood a breadth away from Devlon, shadows morphed into the shape of a hand held at the camp leader's throat.

There was no curiosity lingering in your mind as to why he was often referred to as the Angel of Death. His body was tense and forbidding, as if he had been carved from stone. Broad, claw-tipped wings spread in threat, consuming the space around him. The largest you'd witnessed.

"It'd be a shame if your windpipe was broken," his voice was colder than the wind that had picked up, "I'd think twice if you were to make another smart remark about our high lord's emissary."

They stared at each other and then Devlon's shoulder sank in defeat. The ghost hand dissipated at his throat, revealing finger-like bruising. You could only imagine the true harm his shadows could inflict if given free rein.

Devlon's eyes snapped from Azriel to you, chin dipping nearly imperceptibly before walking away, back tense as if he were preparing for an attack.

You waited until he was out of sight to speak. “Thanks for the coat?”

Azriel rolled his shoulders, eyes on the space above your head. “Sorry that it belongs to that dense misogynist; I rarely find the need to carry one around.”

You laughed, hoping to dispel the tension clinging to the air, and clutched the coat tighter to warm your hands up. “It’s summertime; how is it still snowing out here?”

“The elevation of the mountains results in colder weather year-round, no matter the season. This is considered warm.” He jerked his chin in the direction of a group of shirtless Illyrian’s training. “Cassian used to tan on days like this when we were younger.”

“Is that what he’s been doing the past week? I wandered up to the roof yesterday and caught him rubbing some oil into his legs. I never want to see him in shorts those small again.” You widened your eyes in horror. 

"Count yourself lucky. I've seen the bastard’s ass more than I have his face."

"Some would say that you should count yourself lucky then."

Azriel scoffed, eyes glittering with amusement.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked. 

You really weren’t. Not when he was watching you with such tenderness. A cold gust of wind blew past, making your teeth chatter. Azriel didn’t waste any time in scooping you into his arms. 

“Wait,” your breath hitched, “what about Devlon’s coat?”

“We’ll burn it when we get back to The House.” 

Just as he was about to lift off, thunder cracked, causing you to peer up at the malicious looking grey clouds rolling in. Odd, considering just this morning, when you first arrived, the day had been clear and sunny.

Azriel let loose a long breath, eyes switching from you to the sky until he put you on your feet. "We'll have to wait it out."

"You've traveled in far worse conditions," you reminded, although you'd much rather stay put too.

"I'd never risk your life." He stated, voice gruff.

You had to ignore the butterflies that erupted in your stomach. This was not the place nor time to feel flattered by Azriel's protectiveness. He was this way with all of his friends and family, after all.

"Where will we stay? I guess Devlon would let us-"

Azriel snorted. "If I spend one more minute with that shithead I might strangle him to death. Fortunately, Rhys' mom has a cabin here that we can stay in."

As if to hurry you both, the heavens opened up and peltered you with a cold sleet. You were almost instantly drenched. Azriel wasted no time in putting an arm around your back, wing stretched overhead to offer reprieve, and urged you forward through the slick mud.

Finally, you arrived at the cabin, a, small yet homey, two story house with an already roaring fire and steaming kettle on the stove. The shadows doing, you assumed. You turned to Azriel who retrieved two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with tea.

You could picture Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys as young, growing boys wandering in and out of that kitchen, hungry after long days of training. And you spotted notches in the wooden cupboards and dining furniture where playful fights or inaccurately aimed daggers managed to land.

He made his way to you, setting the mugs on the mantel, cringing as you shivered hard. "Do you mind?" he motioned to the coat you still clutched tightly at. "It will only make you colder."

You shook your head, teeth chattering, and reached to take it off when you were stopped by Azriel's hands. He peeled it off of your shoulders and down your arms and chucked it in the fire without blinking.

You couldn't help but laugh at his obvious distaste of the clothing and it's owner.

"Warm up and drink the tea; I'm going to search for some clothes that are, hopefully, untouched by mothballs."

Who would have blamed you for admiring the way his leathers fit to his bunching muscles as he made his way up the stairs?

A small part of you hoped that he wouldn't be able to find anything. From the stories you'd heard from the inner circle about missions that have gone awry in the cold, one of the ways they managed to stay warm was to share body heat.

The image of Azriel aiding you taking off your wet clothes before doing it to himself, flashed in your mind.

Ugh. You rolled your shoulders, turning towards the fire to soothe the ice settling in your bones. Yes, Azriel had been incredibly kind today by offering to join you and giving you a jacket, but that was just it. Kindness.

When you had first met Azriel, like most everyone, you fell for his devilishly handsome features and cool nature. It didn't help that he was unfathomably loyal and strong. Or tall and athletic. Or a good male with good intentions overall.

"It's just a stupid crush," you muttered to yourself as you put your palms out towards the fireplace.

"Hm?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Azriel returned to your side on silent steps. A shadow skittered over your shoulder, tickling your neck as if to laugh at you.

"We should really put a bell on you,"

"I'd prefer my enemies to not know when I'm near." Azriel held out clothes to you. "They're old but should suffice. If you'd prefer to wash-"

"That would be wonderful." The idea of a warm bath caused you to sigh with longing.

Azriel clicked his tongue, amusement lighting his eyes. "I shouldn't have even asked, huh? Come," he jerked his head to the direction of the stairs, "let's get you cleaned up."

Electricity zapped through your body at the image of sitting between Azriel's legs in the bathtub as he used a washcloth to soothe your goose-bumped riddled skin. Would he press his lips to each knob of your spine while he massaged shampoo into your hair and-

"Coming?"

Your eyes snapped to Azriel, the fog of your imagination dissipating, making you feel ridiculous. Your cheeks pinked and you nodded, following him.

The bathtub wasn't big enough to comfortably sit two people. Much less if that second person happened to be an Illyrian male.

Azriel put the dry clothes on the counter. "Do you need any help navigating things?"

"I am confident in my ability to bathe myself, thank you for your concern." You teased.

"Don't need me to get your back or anything?" he shot back, looking a lot less tense than he had when you were speaking with Devlon. In fact, he looked a lot lighter than when he was even around the inner circle.

"I think I have it all under control. Thank you again, Azriel."

Before heading out, he lingered at the doorway, looking as if he had something to say but decided not to. He then left you to your own devices, saying something about cooking something up. You stripped out of your drenched clothes and turned on the faucet, shivering when you first dipped into the water. It felt like a warm hug.

The only thing that would make it better would be if you were nestled against Azriel's tattooed chest.

No no no.

You shouldn't be feeding into your delusions. Especially while the person you were daydreaming about was the only other person in the house with you. It would only make things terribly awkward. And you didn't want to ruin anything with Azriel. Not when you were just becoming close friends.

You had been emissary to the night court for a couple of years now and while you had gotten along quickly with everyone, it had taken a while for Azriel to even speak with you one-on-one. He wasn't easily trusting, which you completely understood. But lately things had been warming up. He would make you breakfast when you were the only two up, hand-deliver the books Nesta let you borrow, even nudge your leg under the table when Cassian was making a fool of himself.

Not to mention the fact that he brought you to this camp despite it being a solo mission.

You pushed it all from your mind, not wanting to overthink things, and finished your bath.

The sweater and sweat pants Azriel supplied you with smelled faintly of him. You wondered if they had been his when he lived in this gods-awful camp.

Having found no brush or comb, you settled with running your fingers through your damp hair, wandering down to the kitchen to find Azriel at the stove, preparing what smelled like chile. He tilted his head up to look at you and fire settled low in your belly as his pupils seemed to take over his irises'.

You swallowed thickly, feeling somewhat self-conscious wearing his clothes that hung off your frame. You tugged on one of the sleeves as it slipped down your shoulder. "Hopefully there's warm water left."

The pot hissed with bubbles, shadows whisking the soup ladle out of the oblivious shadowsinger's hand to continue stirring, as Azriel scanned you from head to toe.

Judging by the amusement dancing in his eyes, you probably looked like a drowned rat. You itched to turn back into the bathroom and check yourself in the mirror.

He stepped into your space, "They're not too big?"

The clothes. You shook your head, pointing to the rolled up pant legs. "Needed some adjusting but they shouldn't cause too many problems."

"Certainly wouldn't want them to fall off," he mumbled, more to himself, the insinuation in his voice not helping in tamping down your growing feelings.

"Do I look silly or something? Why are you watching me strangely?"

"Not at all. I just thought you look... adorable." He smiled crookedly.

You realized now you had never seen a genuine smile—one that wasn't produced from dark humor—grace his face. Red splashed over your cheeks and you hurried to say, "You should probably wash up yourself. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold or anything."

After a moment of consideration all traces of pleasure were wiped from his face. You nearly swayed at the whiplash of his emotions. "There's some soup and I discovered one of Cassian's hidden stashes of wine,"

"Perfect," you offered an awkward smile.

While he bathed, you wiped down two bowls and wine glasses of grimy dust before filling them with soup and wine. You then stood by the sink, watching out the window into the night.

The storm had grown, howling winds causing the structure of the house to groan as rain continued its rhythmic drumming on the roof. A flash of lightning lit up the sky every few minutes with the accompanied roll of thunder.

Your heart raced double its time from the inane fear of how destructive nature could be.

You drained the wine in one swallow.

"Not fond of storms?"

"Shit!" you whipped around to find a fresh-faced Azriel rubbing a towel through his dark, wet hair. "When we return home I'm finding that bell."

His eyes squinted in amusement, tossing the towel onto the back of a kitchen chair. "If it helps soothe your worries, Illyria has endured worse weather than this."

"Are you sure this cabin is sound enough to withstand this weather? Considering how old it is?"

A black eyebrow rose, "Is that a jab at my age?"

Apologies began tumbling out of your mouth. Azriel only waved off the words. "Sit and let's eat. The storm will hopefully clear by tomorrow morning and we can be on our way back to Valeris."

"Were you able to reach Rhys?"

"He told us to stay put," he shoveled a spoonful into his mouth, "and that if anything is to happen to you, I will be the one to blame."

"I'm flattered he finds me so valuable."

Hazel eyes met yours for a heartbeat as he said, "You are very valuable."

Oh Cauldron. If he continued saying things like that, you wouldn't be able to keep your growing feelings from showing on your face.

You cleared your throat instead, "How much trouble do you think we'll be in because of that incinerated coat?"

The rest of the dinner was spent bonding over your hatred of Devlon. You weren't sure how Azriel survived being under the insufferable male for so long. Or all the males here, if you were honest. It helped you to understand why he was so hesitant to claim them as his people.

"How long has this cabin been unoccupied?" you inquired, taking another bite of the chile.

Azriel leaned back in his chair, considering your question. He'd been, surprisingly, open tonight. There seemed to be no trace of the ever-reserved male you encountered more often than naught. "The inner circle prefers to handle the camps during the day so we rarely find the need to stay here. Devlon uses it sometimes for meetings."

"Did each of you boys get your own rooms?"

"Boys?" a corner of his mouth kicked up, "You say that as if we're not all centuries older than you."

You stifled a chuckle, "Considering how often you three wrestle over ridiculous things like who gets the last slice of dessert, I think it's fitting."

His biceps flexed as he stretched them above his head. You felt dizzy with awe. "Whatever," he retorted playfully, "but, to answer your question, we shared the same room until it became too much of a hazard."

"Hazard?"

A faint blush crept over his tan cheeks. "When we became more interested in females than pulling pranks on one another."

Oh. You blushed in response and took a drink from your glass to hide your embarrassment.

Azriel huffed a laugh, obviously recognizing your regret of asking the question. In a considerate manner, he said, "Remember how I told you about Cassian tanning?"

"Oh gods, I won't be able to unable to get the image you offered out of my head."

"Then you'll be affronted to know that I found the oil he used."

A laugh spewed from your mouth. Azriel smiled softly at your unexpected outburst. The conversation was built on from there and your stomach hurt from how hard he managed to make you laugh.

As soon as you scraped the last bean out of your bowl, Azriel took it from you and washed it in the sink. Huh. A male who cooks and cleans? You couldn't believe your eyes. And you had to ignore the space in your heart that warmed.

Your attention was drawn to the shifting muscles in his forearms as he scrubbed the dishes. To the dark tattoos swirling around his powerful arms, practically calling you to trace them with your fingers.

"—sleep?"

You shook your head as you realized you hadn't heard him. "Sorry, what?"

A shadow tugged on your hair teasingly and he repeated, "Obviously you're tired since you can't even think straight. Let's go sleep."

He led you upstairs once more and into what you assumed was the master bedroom, with a large four poster bed, a vanity, armoire, and lace curtains that hung over the window. It looked as if it belonged to a... female.

"Was this—"

Azriel nodded, eyes softening as he took in the homemade quilt, "This was Rhys' mother's room. After difficult training or frightening storms, she would let us all fit in the bed with her as she told us stories of fearless Illyrians."

"You used to be scared of storms?"

You couldn't imagine the spymaster being afraid of anything. Even as a child.

"I was scared of many things,"

That was all he offered before attempting to stoke the fireplace and ensuring the room was warm enough. You hesitated before asking, "Is this where I'll be staying tonight?"

"We'll both be staying in here."

Your world flipped upside down.

"You're serious?"

Hazel eyes snapped to you with amusement. "The only fireplace working is the one in the living room; these logs are too wet. Not to mention the magic of this cabin isn't as strong without Rhys here."

It looked as if your idea of sharing body heat was coming to fruition. This would quite possibly be the best night of your life, so you needed to savor it as much as you could until everything went back to normal the next morning.

Your fingers shook as you pulled back the covers and slipped in. Oh gods. This was much more nerve-wracking than you'd anticipated. Yes, you seemed to get along great and you felt comfortable around him, but he was still handsome as sin and effortlessly attractive.

After Azriel was certain no logs were salvageable, he stood from his crouched position, spread his mighty wings once in to prepare for a cramped bed, then tucked them in tightly. Your eyes tracked the movement, the sconce lamps revealing the red tint running through the membranous tissue.

He walked to his side of the bed and laid down, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "The temperature will drop the later it gets, so it'd be wise if we slept closer. I don't bite."

Despite that last teasing remark, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Who wouldn't? You were only sharing a bed with one of the greatest warriors to ever live. And he was acting like it was a regular occurrence.

You tested the waters and inched close enough that your hips touched. You swallowed thickly.

He fluffed his pillow, and even yours, before resting his head and asking, "Comfy?"

Not trusting your words, you nodded, and the room was engulfed in darkness. There was nothing besides the staccato beat of rain hitting the roof and the buzzing along your skin where you were touching Azriel.

You counted sheep in your mind to calm down enough to sleep, fighting off the overbearing thoughts of the male beside you.

A peal of thunder caused you to start.

A heavy hand closed over yours, the ridges and callouses of unhealed burns pressing into your own unmarked skin. You caught your breath. "I won't let anything harm you," came Azriel's deep assurance, instantly calming your racing mind.

Two blinks later and you were sound asleep.

It was so gods-damned hot.

Having Azriel sleep beside you was like having your own personal Illyrian heater. Sweat beaded at your temple and your body felt like it was being roasted over a fire.

Obviously this sleeping-together thing would have worked a lot better if you didn't have access to the indoors or multiple blankets. The fact that you were so inclined to move away made you frown. You enjoyed sleeping so close to Azriel; he was safe, and strong... but he was going to burn you alive.

Slowly, you inched away from Azriel, closer to the edge of the bed, and pulled off the quilt, sighing at the instant relief of cool air sliding across your heated skin. You could finally—

The windows blew open, a gust of frigid wind bursting through the room. You began shivering and grabbed the corner of the quilt when a heavy arm was thrown over your stomach, tugging you into a hard body.

"Where were you going?" Azriel rasped into your ear.

This time you trembled for a different reason. "Wh-what?"

His thumb stroked over your hip, "You were trying to leave."

"It was hot," you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, he would realize what he was doing and let go of you.

"Don't go."

Hel, you wouldn't move again if a thousand Illyrians dragged you out of his protective embrace.

"Are the windows broken?" you asked.

What had caused them to slam open like that? Was this cabin deteriorating quicker than Azriel had let on? Would it hold on through the night?

You turned your head to the side to assess the damage just as the windows pulled together again. The latch clicking into place.

Squinting your eyes, you managed to spot two slithering shadows gliding along the windowsill.

"Azriel," his name came out suspiciously. Did he send his shadows to open the windows?

He hummed, the vibration of his chest reverberating through your own. "You're always so antsy around me," he admitted, "getting nervous when I start to get comfortable and changing the subject."

What else did you expect from the spymaster of the night court? Obviously he would be able to read a person's behavior.

"I didn't want to scare you off." Came your timid reply.

Azriel huffed a laugh. "Why would I be scared of the attention of a beautiful female?"

A pink flush spread across your cheeks, hidden in the dark of the room. You were never getting over this. Oh, how you wished you had your journal.

"I like you," he continued, "and I know you like me. But this game of cat and mouse has me growing anxious. I would rather like to smile at you without you diverting your eyes."

"I don't think you're scary."

"I know." He said in a cock-sure way.

You scoffed, amused. "For the record, I wasn't escaping because I was scared this time, but because your body runs at two hundred degrees."

"That's why I opened those damn windows." So that the cold would send you rushing back into his arms, you slowly realized.

You were at a loss for words.

"Say something," he asked, an imperceptible plea in his voice.

What were you supposed to say? I think you're beautiful and want to get to know you? You decided to play it safe with, "This is nice." There. That was enough to keep your heart at ease, and not make you sound desperate.

"I like you too," he tightened his hold on you, languidly nosing along your scalp, as if he were smelling you, "And I always want you here."

"In this cabin?"

In the span of two seconds, he had you on your back, limbs trapped under his own. From the scarce lighting of the cloud-covered moon, you could make out the slants and slopes of his face, the soft glimmer in those all-seeing eyes. "In my arms."

In all your day-dreaming, nothing ever compared to hearing him say those words than in real life. When his thumb brushed along your fluttering pulse, and his warm breath fanned against your face.

You swallowed thickly, "Is this a dream?"

His lips met yours, achingly slow, and oh so beautifully.

Once. Twice. He kissed you. The simple action conveying all that words could not. That he truly did like you. That you shouldn't be afraid. That he was falling with you. Falling so so so fast.

author's note: RELEASE ME! guys. i have been trapped in the writer's block hell. i'm home. if there are any mistakes or loopholes, no there aren't. i hope you all love it, pretties. (I haven't forgotten about the beautiful readers who sent me requests🥰)

[wxsteriawishes]

about each lads guy's zodiac (sun sign)

zayne (virgo)

perfectionist, self-critical, reserved, diligent, lenient, hopeful, selfless

♍️ perfectionist ♍️ he does not take failure well. it might seem unhealthy, but he's just not used to it. everything needs to be perfect. the diagnosis, the schedule, the antidote. the chaos and clutter of his mind is confusing enough, he can't let it manifest physically. his room, his clinic, his desk, it's all organized and clean. nothing is out of place. the little things prevent him from spiraling when something goes wrong. it's his way of taking control of his life however he can.

♍️ self-critical ♍️ he holds himself to high standards and doesn't understand it when he can't meet them. he is cruel to himself. so caring with children and gentle with his patients, but so harsh to the reflection. criticizing words from others don't bother him. he is his worst judge, the most detailed critic. he never lets himself relax, always pushing to be good, better, the best. nothing's ever enough. not when there are more patients to save.

♍️ reserved ♍️ he's good with his words, specifically when it doesn't require him to let his guard down. so he just doesn't let his guard down. he doesn't often have to, and an issue never really comes up. but when he does have to be vulnerable, he can have difficulty expressing himself. it's only at first, given how quick of a learner he can be. but he may go quiet when upset, not wanting to overreact and lose control. he'll tell you he needs a moment, his voice soft. he needs someone who understands him without having to force it. the connection feels easy between you two. you love him like it's breathing and it brings him so much relief. you overwhelm him with your love, cracking at his walls, bit by bit.

♍️ diligent ♍️ he does his work. he finishes his errands. he never lets something go unattended. it's a difficult, pressuring, and frankly dreary life. but he'll do what needs to get done. it's how he proved himself in the medical field. he consistently did what needed to get done in high school, college, and med school. then in residency, before he finally made his way to akso hospital. he was trustworthy, resilient, and reliable. he never faltered, if he could help it.

♍️ lenient ♍️ lenient with others, that is. not with himself, of course. why would he do that? when he used to tutor, he never got frustrated with the slower-learning students. he never overstepped when he felt his mentors were taking their time at work. he was patient and forgiving. he didn't let anyone walk over him, but he also didn't make a scene when someone was clearly just a little insecure. it was how he racked up the favors, to so quickly advance to where he was now. it was how he got along with children so easily. never making them feel like they were any less, but also not expecting anything from them.

♍️ hopeful ♍️ he has dreams. dreams of helping others back to health. he dreams of a peaceful life, his hands maybe finally clean of the blood he's spilt. he works tirelessly to achieve these dreams, sleepless nights, silent wishes, praying to a god that won't ever answer to him again. he knows he has the potential, but what if he messes up again? what if his love for you curses him again? he has hope that he'll be able to control himself this time around. third time's the charm. . . right?

♍️ selfless ♍️ he will tear himself apart skin-to-bone to help others. zayne li is through and through a virgo, the wounded healer. he had hurt and so he stops the pain from spreading to others. he saves lives to put himself at ease. the world felt so similar to hell. innocent children die, lovers separated by illness, and he gets to survive? he constantly reminds himself of how unfair it is. his nightmares, his scarred hands, they drive his desire to be as good as he can. lest he kills someone again, he has to atone for his sins. deep down, he craves an unconditional love. a love as selfless as that which he gives to others everyday, whether he believes it or not. he hopes he's worthy of finding it.

[faeritaboo]

wait sorry i'm genuinely confused, how does disagreeing with the fetishization of racism (raceplay) make you a racist? the logic is just not registering to me... shouldn't it be that the poc that are into raceplay the ones with internalized racism and the white participants who are into raceplay basically... just racists? honeslty i don't really understand where you're coming from as a woc myself bc how does opposing racism make you a racist 😭

well for one, her, a white person doesn’t have a right to tell poc how to cope with the racism they experience.

secondly, she also IMMEDIATELY started spreading lies abt me. idk where this rumour that im into raceplay came up bc im not.

thirdly, after i called her out on the fact she doesn’t have the right to tell poc how to cope, she started sprewing a whole bunch of bs and more evidently, shes ignored many poc who arent kissing her ass. and any she doesnt ignore she calls ragebait.

and an issue i have with her is also the fact she was mutuals with someone going on a racist rant, people sent her asks warning her of that mutual, she ignored it, but then someone else brought attention to it and now shes opposed to it.

her mutual also writes ddlg, so i find it hypocritical and a bit gross for her to complain and harass people who write sexist!rafe. if theres any type of dddne trope you wouldnt approve of, i find it odd that it wouldnt be ddlg.

whenever something small happens, she jumps on a hate train towards that person and takes advantage of her following to get them harassed more without even knowing the full situation. that happened before with a writer who was accused of copying fics(she wasnt).

and, yes theres even more i can add, whenever someone states a fair opinion of sexist!rafe and their opinion, she ignores it. she whines about hate but being rude is the only way she’ll acknowledge you. if she does respond to you it’s immaturely.

im used to immaturity in this fandom, but rina seems older so maybe she should act her age.

she loves to whine about whats going on in the world but what is she doing to help? i’m an idva and i regularly volunteer at shelters for abused women. i donate to shelters and programs for people struggling. i support palestine etc. i revolve my life around helping people she’s trying to ‘defend’ but because i occasionally write stuff that helps me but she disagrees with im a terrible person?? maybe she should stop posting on tumblr every hour and go actually help bc harassing writers on tumblr doesnt. hell if she wants to post every hour instead of posting hate post actual awareness.

[mynameis-a]

post: has severe flashing lights with no warnings

everyone in the reblogs: is upset about the lack of flash warning tags

also everyone in the reblogs: doesnt add flash warning tags

[etaleah]

I think a lot about the fact that the real genius of Hbomberguy’s plagiarism video was not just the exposé aspect of it but the fact that it so effectively demonstrated WHY plagiarism is bad.

When teachers warned against plagiarism in school, they made it seem like the reason it was bad was because it got you out of doing work. Plagiarism was bad because it was lazy. And that is (1) not a very strong deterrent to students who are only taking this class and writing this paper because they’re forced to and therefore don’t care about the work, and (2) missing the real harm behind the action.

On some level, yeah, plagiarism is bad because it will prevent you from learning how to write well on your own. There’s a real fear that a generation of kids won’t know how to write (which means they won’t know how to think) because they’ll be so used to having an “AI” machine do it for them that they’ll be helpless without it. That is very much a concern. But it’s far from the only issue. Harry laid out the other problems really well:

1. Plagiarism is enshittification. When you have to reword stuff to hide that you’re stealing it, the writing will be clunkier, wordier, more awkward, and less natural-sounding. This makes the piece worse, which isn’t good for anyone. Who needs more bad writing in the world?

2. Plagiarism spreads misinformation. Again, stealing stuff usually requires having to reword things to get around plagiarism checkers. That can make it very easy to (accidentally or purposely) rewrite a sentence to now be false instead of true. This is made worse by the fact that hiding the source of the information makes fact-checking impossible.

3. Plagiarism is anti-educational. If the audience doesn’t know where something came from, they can’t go visit that source to learn more about the topic. They’re prevented from finding any additional knowledge, which makes research—and therefore progress—difficult.

4. Plagiarism makes it impossible for creators to earn a living, thereby making it impossible to create. Funnily enough, this means less material for plagiarists to steal from, so the whole scam is really just a snake eating its own tail. Like all scams, it can’t last long. When plagiarists can make huge profits by stealing and putting out content faster because they’re stealing, the real creators who actually do the work have no chance. They can’t compete because they can’t create as fast as a plagiarist can steal. So they don’t make as much money, which means they can’t live off their work, which in turn means they can’t create anymore. This keeps going until all that’s left is stolen garbage.

There’s a lot to love about that video, but this part in particular is my favorite by far.

[eternalsunrise]

study date

lsu! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 1.7k

tags! established relationship, make out sesh, no actual smut, jus a couple of horny college kids in love with each other, vomit inducing fluff

notes! brainrot so bad i had to start writing fics. hope the joe burrow community finds this well 🧘‍♀️ expect more for joe coming! xoxo

letters on a keyboard clicking and a pencil scrawling across paper are the only sounds that reverberate around the room. you started off sitting up straight, but as time progressed you’re basically lying down, laptop perched on your lap.

the pillows are plush underneath you, and your boyfriend’s scent is enveloping you. there’s something about joe’s bed that always feels 10 times more comfortable than your own.

if you closed your eyes you could probably doze off for a mid afternoon nap.

you hear the sound of someone shifting above the covers, but you don’t turn your head to look, too preoccupied with your essay that’s due in the morning.

you feel a kiss press against your cheek, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “hi joey. you doing okay?”

another kiss against your cheek, followed by an overdramatic sigh, “yeah, just really hard to focus on statistics with something so distracting in my bed.”

joe’s closer now, a hand playing with your hair as he peppers kisses down your jawline.

you roll your eyes at his antics, knowing exactly how this was going to go. “oh i’m the distracting one?” you question, your tone sarcastic.

he moves his hand to your cheek, tilting your head to the left to face him. his blue eyes bore into yours and you realize why you’d avoided looking at him. it’s much easier to stay on task without his handsome face in view.

joe leans down to place a slow peck on your lips, “a very.” peck. “very.” peck. “pretty distraction.”

he pulls away from you entirely, smirking when you try and chase his lips. this is exactly why you wanted to study alone. as much as you loved your boyfriend, how are you expected to get anything done with a gorgeous quarterback all over you? but the two of you have barely seen each other these past few weeks, and joe insisted on you both doing schoolwork together before his practice later that day.

“joe. baby. we’re supposed to be studying.” your voice is pleading, begging for any sort of mercy. he caresses your cheek bone with his thumb, a smirk sitting on the side of his mouth. “i am studying.” he uses a tone that tells you he wants you to ask what his punchline is. you bite.

“and what are you studying exactly, joseph?”

he trails his hand down your body until it rests on your waist, just above where your hands and laptop sit. he lets his eyes trail down and back up, bright blues staring at you while he licks his lips, “anatomy.”

you let out a laugh for his sake, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from your body, “you’re impossible!” you place a quick kiss on his lips, standing up and taking your laptop.

joe groans loudly, falling back against the pillows on his bed, “where are you going?”

you carry your work to his wooden, student-issued desk, setting your laptop down and taking a seat. “you’re going to stay there. and i’m going to stay here. we both need to get work done and it’s hard to do that when you’re being…well you!” you try to sound frustrated, but you both know better.

joe being the cocky bastard he is, just gives you a knowing smile. the effect he has on you just strokes his ego (as if anyone else needed to). he decides to leave you be for the time being. he picks his pencil back up and holds his hands up in faux innocence, “yes ma’am. whatever you need.”

you turn back to your essay, typing your third page, smiling when the framed picture of you two displayed on his desk appears in your peripheral vision. if you looked around, your presence is covering this room. his whole apartment in fact. sure, you may be putty in his hands. but you have joe burrow pretty much wrapped around your finger.

after about 20 minutes of both of you working diligently in silence, you hear joe clear his throat.

“hey pretty?”

“mhm?” you reply, clicking back and forth between your class notes and your paper.

“didn’t you say you took this class last year?” joe asks, deep voice like velvet when it hits your ears.

you pause your task and turn around in your chair, “yeah i did for a semester, why?” he looks absolutely delicious. he’s sporting a cozy lsu hoodie and nike gym shorts that reach barely mid thigh, his trademark array of bracelets decorate his wrists. the way one of this legs is raised make his shorts ride up, giving you a peek at his black briefs. you suddenly wonder if the essay is even that important.

“wanna come check this for me? make sure i did it right?” he taps his pencil a couple of times and holds out his notebook toward you. there’s no flirtation intent behind joe’s question, he just values your insight. and for some reason, that just turns you on even more. he’s won. he’s getting what he wanted without even trying.

you stand up from your seat and make your way over to him, taking the notebook from his hand. he looks up at you in silence, waiting for you to check his work. but instead you toss the notebook to the side. it makes a slight thud when it hits the hardwood.

joe opens his mouth to question your actions but you’re on the bed with him in a matter of seconds. you swing your leg over his hip and straddle his lap, legs resting on either side of him. his hands are on you immediately, per instinct, large hands engulfing your thighs. it takes him a moment to process your actions but he sobers up quickly, cocky and confident, “aw, who knew stats could get you so worked up?”

you want to knock that stupid smirk off of his face. you also never want it to go away.

“shut up.” followed by a feverish kiss full of want and desire. the lack of each other for weeks has stretched the rubber band of tension to a hilt, and you finally let it snap. your fingers thread through his wavy hair at the nape of his neck, tugging just a bit. he’s due for a haircut soon. a noise rattles up from his throat, your reaction immediate. your hips grind down, begging for some friction. he gladly provides, guiding your waist back and forth.

the next moments are full of tongue kisses and heavy breathing. “next time we—“ gasp. “study together, we’re doing it in public–ow!” joe bites your lip, an apology vibrates against your lip, you know he doesn’t mean it. “like the library.” joe grips your hips and flips the two of you over with ease. you yelp in surprise, now looking up at him.

joe scoffs at your words, “like that’s ever stopped us before.” he reconnects your lips, a new sense of urgency found in this kiss. he props himself up with an elbow next to your head. your leg finds itself hooking around his waist, forcing him impossibly closer to you. he breaks away for air, hand dragging up and down your lifted thigh. he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

he looks down between your bodies and watches as your hips lift to meet his own, adam’s apple bobbing. his eyes flick back to yours, a familiar darkness clouding the ocean. his kisses follow a trail down your jaw, “god baby, you drive me crazy.” he purrs in your ear, lips attacking your neck. you aren’t sure how he can say that, when you’re the one that feels dizzy under his touch. your hand finds his hair again, letting out fits of giggles when his mouth grazes your most sensitive spots.

you tilt your head to the side, catching sight of the time on your phone screen as it lit up on the nightstand. you let out a gasp, partly because of joe shifting his hand between your thighs, but mostly because it was almost time for, “joe. practice.”

he returns his attention to your lips, “5 more minutes, all i need.” he murmurs, capturing you in a kiss that’s hard to turn away from. you feel his hand slip under the waist band of your pants, and as much as you dread this ending; you know what you need to do.

“joey. babe, hey.” you use your grip on his hair to pull him away. the love drunk look on his face makes this even harder. “listen. as much as i want to, we can’t. you love to be unreasonably early, and coach o will track me down himself if i’m the reason his star isn’t there for pre, pre warmups.”

joe chuckles and nods his head, reluctantly removing his hands from you entirely; it’s as if you’re magnets, if he isn’t across the room you’ll gravitate back together. he stands and starts to get ready for the one thing you’re forced to share the title of joe’s first love with, football.

you start to stand to get ready to go home, but joe quickly faces you and shakes his head, black backpack and cleats in his hands.

“no no no stay. here.” he throws his backpack over his shoulder and uses his free hand to dig in his pocket. he pulls out his purple lanyard, plucking his apartment key from the carabiner.

joe places it in your hand and folds your fingers over it.

“here, i’m gonna have you one made anyway. go back to your dorm, grab some stuff. you can order dinner, finish your homework here. i’ll be back in a couple hours and i’ll take you to that froyo shop down the street and then we can…finish what we started.” joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. he punctuates his words with a sweet kiss on your lips, another on your forehead, “bye pretty. love you.”

you stare at him in awe, “love you. have fun!”

he winks at you before he walks out of the front door.

you sit there on the edge of the bed, staring down at the shiny key in your palm. you’re shocked at how he can make such a big relationship step seem so nonchalant. he’d obviously been thinking about this for a while, you being around more. in his space.

you flop down on your back, kicking your feet with a giddy smile. if you weren’t alone you’d be embarrassed.

looks like you’ll be studying here a lot more often.

[akutasoda]

in the morning light [genshin ver]

synopsis - what it's like sharing a bed with them

includes - diluc, kaeya, albedo, beidou, baizhu, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, wriothesley

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, still have no clue what im doing, might be ooc, wc - 2.2k

a/n: can you tell im bored? anyway how is everyone?

diluc ragnvindr ★↷

↪to absolutely nobody's suprise, he didn't actually get much sleep. most would assume that the reason for this would be running angels share or the dawnery and such, but it was mainly because he acted as the 'darknight hero'.

↪he always encouraged you to go to bed and not wait up for him because he never knew how long he would take. however, diluc couldn't get mad at you for staying up as he found it endearing that you were so insistent on doing so.

↪diluc does have a rather important public image to uphold and so he tries his best to maintain a night and morning routine, but sometimes the night one does go a miss. it's simple yet very effective for him - you know he gets the absolute worst bed hair known to man.

↪the neatest bed you've ever seen, it's always pristine whether he made it or not. has no issues compromising for what you'd like either, he'd even assist you in making the bed to your liking rather than his.

↪initially, he prefers to have his own side to the bed - mainly because he gets up early and goes to bed late so he doesn't want to disturb you. but over time he gets a tad bit too comfy and prefers to have you swamped in his embrace.

↪a light sleeper and not that much of a mover, he either stays completely still or occasionally shuffles around. although when he does shuffle, his hair can tickle you and accidentally wake you if you're a light sleeper yourself.

↪unfortunately, diluc sometimes can wake up rather abruptly due to some certain nightmares, but he always tries not too wake you.

↪human heater. most summers are spent with the bedding completey stripped away because he gives off a lot of body heat, so cuddles are rare unless you don't mind feeling like you're being cooked alive.

kaeya alberich ★↷

↪has the best routines you've ever seen, that is if he bothers to do them. he's very vigilant when doing his morning routine but sometimes he comes home from angels share a bit too tipsy to do his night routine.

↪as mentioned, he spends quite a few nights down at angels share and so he either comes home late, assisted by an annoyed diluc, or you have to go fetch him. admittedly he has gotten better since you've been around though.

↪most days he does get up fairly early, but on his day's off he's not budging. good luck getting up yourself because you're not leaving until he decides he wants to get up - which he will then proceed to wake you up.

↪the messiest bed, sure he makes it occasionally but sometimes he just can't be asked. uses way too many pillows and blankets but is very accommodating to your needs and wants.

↪a complete opposite to his brother, but he is practically a human freezer. unfortunately kaeya is quite cold to the touch so if winter comes around he always puts more blankets and duvets on the bed just so he can still cuddle you without you complaining that he's going to give you frostbite. he also can give you quite the wake up in the morning by how cold he is.

↪can be unconsciously really clingy in his sleep, im talking having some part of him touching you at any time - full on cuddles, holding hands, or even simply intertwining his legs with yours. he claims it helps him sleep better, especially when the nightmares come calling.

↪only downside, is that he can be extremely obnoxious. he moves around so much and unfortunately that can wake you aswell, especially when he ends up upside down and spread out across the bed and such. also can be quite the snorer if he allows himself to fully relax around you.

albedo ★↷

↪admittedly, he spends many nights up at camp in dragonspine and he understands that the freezing weather isn't for everyone - so he doesn't blame you for staying in mondstadt. but sometimes he knows you'd probably prefer for him to be back in mondstadt with you.

↪but if you choose to stay with him in dragonspine, he decides to upgrade the usual camp cot that he uses. he might not be able to feel the cold but you certainly would and the very last thing he'd want, is for you to catch a cold or worse. although there is a nice feeling of finally returning home to you.

↪albedo does have a simple nightly routine that he follows and same goes for his morning routine - although admittedly he can get a bit too carried away with his research and completely miss his routines or sleep in general.

↪he practically stays still entirely while he sleeps, it's almost scary as sometimes you forget he's there. he also doesn't really understand if you want to cuddle while you sleep but he'll indulge you.

beidou ★↷

↪she either goes to bed alongside you or later at night, normally she only comes to bed late if she stays up celebrating with the crew or is on some kind of voyage. most nights she does want to go to bed with you.

↪keeps any routine, morning or night, to a simple yet effective routine. yes she wants to keep up a good appearance but sometimes she just doesn't have the time and so she always goes for the same quick routine.

↪due to her bed being on her ship, she has the bare minimum as beidou doesn't really see a point in going all out. however, again, very willing to let you do whatever you want to the bed as you are sleeping in it aswell and she doesn't mind one bit.

↪can be somewhat clingy in her sleep, she loves holding you close and you can't exactly overpower her grip - it worsens when she does have a bit too much to drink when celebrating as she practically drapes her entire body over yours at all times.

↪a mix between a light sleeper and heavy, normally she's quite light but sometimes she gets a bit too tired.but either way beidou does shuffle around alot, most nights she ends up completely spread out across the entire bed.

baizhu ★↷

↪the doctor spends alot of time managing the pharmacy and other affairs and so even he would admit that he doesn't get as much sleep as he needs, especially when he can get easily fatigued. changsheng gets better sleep than he does.

↪normally by the time the day draws to a close, he's pretty exhausted and so he tries to go to sleep at a reasonable time after. he has somewhat of a nightly routine but it mainly focuses on managing his condition. same goes for the morning.

↪his bed is surprisingly really comfy, even changshengs is. he would prefer if you only messed with your side of the bed because he can be a bit particulate but if you really wanted to, he'd let you.

↪sometimes his condition can give him a rather uncomfortable night's sleep but he tries his best to not let it affect you. but otherwise he can become an extremely heavy sleeper because sleeping is one of the only times where he can truly rest.

↪very rarely his condition may get a bit too much and so he does have to isolate himself until it subsides. although now that you're in his life, he realises how lonely it can get without you.

↪he likes to keep contact to a minimum, perhaps holding hands or having your legs interwined. maybe further down the line, he'd be more inclined to indulge in cuddles if you preferred.

neuvillette ★↷

↪he wakes up quite early and never really wakes you, but if you need to get up he will get you up. however, on an extremely rare day off, he stays in bed with you a bit longer and subconsciously pulls you closer.

alhaitham ★↷

↪sometimes the scribe stays up late, sometimes he doesn't. staying up late could be due to akadeymia work or because he's busy reading up on his own interests. although he only really goes to bed early if you are.

↪his routines are basic but they cover the essentials, he spends more time on his nightly routine because he's normally more rushed in the morning.

↪his bed is rather basic, only really contains the essentials. he doesn't care what you do to make yourself comfortable, as long as you don't do anything stupid than he entertains you.

↪very prone to late night reading, most of the time he sits beside you completely emersed in his reading. alot of the time he does fall asleep in the middle of reading.

↪isn't one for physical contact but eventually might cave to your demands if you really want him to, although when he does you're convinced he enjoys it more than you do. although he does barely move in the night.

↪normally wakes up quite early, with some quite bad bed hair, but he normally leaves you to sleep unless he knows you have somewhere to be. although on his day's off, he indulges himself in your sleepy presence and he brings you closer and falls back asleep with you in his arms.

kaveh ★↷

↪it's no suprise that the architect can sometimes pull all nighters when he gets a well paid commission, much to your dismay. although most nights he does join you when you go to bed or earlier than you but he prefers you fi be there aswell.

↪his bed is extremely comfy and very well organised, most of the time. sometimes when he's pulled a few all nighters he can forget to sort his bed but most of the time he does.

↪his routines are also dependent on his sleep deprived state. if he's pulling all nighters, then his routine is very simple or virtually nonexistent, otherwise his routines can be quite extensive.

↪clingy. on purpose. he doesn't mind whether he's the big spoon or the small spoon, as long as he's cuddling you he's fine. in the morning when he's not fully awake, he can whine if you try and pry yourself away from him before he's ready to get up - he doesn't ever really need to get up super early.

↪a mix between a heavy sleeper and a light sleeper, can also shuffle around a tad but not much of an issue as long as you aren't an extremely light sleeper.

↪when you first stayed the night at neuvillette's, you wondered why on tevyat was his bed so big. it seemed almost comical for one person but you didn't exactly complain as it was extremely comfy.

↪however, further down the line, as he started to really trust you, you realised that it was because he preferred to sleep in somewhat of a dragon form as he claimed it was much more comfortable. and it certainly was for you, he was surprisingly comfy to sleep on.

↪if he has the time, he enjoys taking his time with a nightly routine and he enjoys doing it alongside you, should you also have one. again, same goes for his morning routine - although that one is always much shorter as he is needed quite early.

↪as mentioned, when he gets much more comfortable with you, he sleeps in a semi dragon form. however he's much more likely to fidget and shuffle around in such form, mainly his tail which sometimes wakes you up.

↪however, when he sleeps as is, he doesn't move at all. neuvillette does enjoy cuddling in both forms though, at first he didn't exactly understand why but he quickly grew accustomed to it and came to enjoy it much more than he thought.

wriothesley ★↷

↪alot of the time, he returns late at night. he doesn't exactly find spending the night at the fortress ideal, sometimes he does have to however, and so he doesn't mind traveling back late, although sometimes he wishes he could come back a tad bit earlier.

↪normally, he doesn't have an efficient amount of time to have an extensive night routine but he does in the morning if he wakes early enough. especially because he also falls victim to bed hair.

↪his bed is normally quite basic yet comfy. so he actually enjoyed it when you started changing things to your liking as it gave a bit of character.

↪clingy, on purpose. he always claims that he doesn't get to see you much since he's at the fortress all day and so he refuses to let you go. he always gathers you unti his embrace and when he knows you're safe in his arms, he can relax.

↪always extremely reluctant in the morning, he doesn't want to leave the comfort of the room and so when he has an extremely rare day off, he refuses to let you go and indulges in your presence much longer - all with a smug smile when you try and leave.

↪extremely light sleeper and sometimes does like to shuffle around, and of course you unfortunately will move around with him as his grip refuses to let up.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[gingersxng]

Pervy Boyfriend Mingi

WARNING: smut 18+

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Notes: sub!f.reader, rough mean dom! Mingi, big dick! Mingi, Mingi is a big pervert, perverted actions, inappropriate touching (which isn’t okay), degrading, manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, name calling, oral (f&m receiving), public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (don’t), nasty thoughts, threesome with yunho, double penetration, mingi loves your tits/ass, sex addicted mingi, 69, anger issues, Mingi uses reader like a rag doll, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, reader gets nipple piercings, cock warming, orgasm denial. forgot anything? maybe.

Words: 973

Mingi who sneaks glances down your top at every opportunity he gets and gets dizzy at how your bra delicately pushes your tits together.

Mingi who can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re out with the guys and his fingers just so “accidentally” end up inside your cunt.

Mingi who needs to touch your breasts every time he’s near you and gives them small slaps from underneath to see them jiggle.

Mingi who tells you how sexy you look and how much he would love to see you fall apart under him, what a whore you are for him, the perfect sex doll for him to use.

Mingi who can’t stop staring at how your ass cheeks appears from your shorts/skirt when you bend down to get something..

Mingi who sneaks up behind you and places his hands on your ass/cunt and breasts while he whispers nasty degrading words in your ear.

Mingi who gets railed up in a split second because you’re running through his mind 24/7.. nasty thoughts that is.

Mingi who can’t leave you alone when you’re taking a shower and joins you to “save water” he also gladly helps to ladder you up then pushing you up against the glass doors taking you deep from behind.

Mingi who sits and waits for you to get out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you only for him to hook his fingers on it making it fall off leaving you completely naked in front of him.

Mingi who can’t take disobedience from you and explodes with anger when you tease him a little too much and ends up manhandling the shit out of you and fucks you until you’re crying and begging for him to stop.

Mingi who loves to push down his hand on your lower abdomen to feel how deep his cock is buried inside you, watching the bulge on your stomach moving under your skin as he thrusts in and out.

Mingi who goes crazy over the thought of impregnating you, filling you with his cum and giving you his babies. no condoms here!! then he fingers back the cum into your pussy so nothing goes to waste.

Mingi who loves when you call him names like daddy or big boy, he gets sooo horny when those words roll off your lips. you’re his babygirl ofc.

Mingi who makes you cock warm him when he’s working on his music and teases you by bucking up his hips into yours, if you’re making any noise he put his big hand over your mouth and growls in your ear what’ll happen if you don’t do as you’re told.

Mingi who denies your orgasms and uses you until he himself gets to cum inside you and then leaves you hanging without an orgasm.

Mingi who gives you a small piece of chocolate when you’ve been a good girl swallowing his big load.

Mingi who wakes up in the middle of the night rock hard so he pulls your panties to the side, spreads your cheeks apart and pushes his hard thick cock inside your small pink pussy, fucking you until he’s cumming hard.

Mingi who traps you under his big body and tortures you with a vibrator and laughs at your weak state telling you how dumb and fucked out you look.

Mingi who happily would share you with a friend especially Yunho!! showing him what a nasty fuck toy you are, they love to fuck your pussy together splitting you open til your eyes turn white. the more the bigger damage on you.

Mingi who’s not so much into that cuddly stuff, he’d rather have you jumping up and down his dick tbh.

Mingi who takes pictures of your pussy and tits when you’re asleep, or even record when his cock slides in and out of your cunt to later use to get himself off to when he’s at work away from you.

Mingi who loves to use his big size against you (not just his big frame) to cage you in against a wall or how he easily gropes your tits in his big hands, or even wraps one hand around your neck. “my little one”

Mingi who’s acting like an innocent and loving man outside the bedroom but get him inside those walls and he turns into a cold maniac.

Mingi who does his best to show love on a normal healthy level and you adore him for that… but when the blood starts filling that man’s dick he can’t be stopped.

Mingi who’s addicted to your little pussy, he loves how you taste and how your hole squeezes his long tongue. he’s knuckles deep inside you until your white cream coats his thick fingers. he also loves when you do the “69” you riding his face while deepthroathing him at the same time.

Mingi who made you get nipple piercings cause he just love how hot you look with them and it gets him more excited knowing they’re his to play with.

Mingi who knows you play with yourself when he’s at work but he don’t want you to know that he knows so he watches from the crack in the door, the way your body looks on your big bed as you finger yourself makes him light headed and the insides of his pants gets stained from precum.

Mingi who never leaves you alone and constantly walks up to you or laying himself on top of you pressing his hard cock against your ass, dry humping is also very appreciated.

Mingi who lifts you over his shoulder and smacks your ass with the biggest smirk on his face.

Mingi who after sex presses his big chest against your back hugging you close his head nuzzling in your neck… his cock still buried inside you.

[sp1d3rzz]

WARNING !! : age-gap (23 and 51), fingering, pet names, cursing, smut ofc lolz, cum eating, jiraiya being a warning himself. lemme know if i missed anything!

Summary : jiraiya has never had any issues when it comes to women (that he likes to think of), until he meets you. is it possible to get someone as stubborn as you into bed with him?

A/N : eeeee!!! i'm so happy to finally write for my love jiraiya! we want a part 2?? (๑>◡<๑)

womanizer!jiraiya who stops at a random town during his long and exhausting journey to finally take a break. he deserves a good nights rest, savory food, and of course finding a pretty prize to take back to his hotel room and please.

womanizer!jiraiya who the very next day, comes across you admiring the flowers at a small nextdoor floral shop. even from afar he can make out the features of your face that make you an absolutely breathtaking sight.

womanizer!jiraiya who decides to be brave and approach you, expecting nothing less than what he usually receives. and when he finally gets close enough to smell your perfume (which only makes him want you more once he gets whiff), he's stuttering back on his words from how nervous you seem to make him with just your looks alone. "what brings a lovely lady like you around here?"

womanizer!jiraiya who is beyond shocked when you only shoot him a mean glare and walk away without so much as a second glance. and don't get him wrong, he hates to see you go, but damn does he love to watch you walk away.

womanizer!jiraiya who finds that women normally come to him like bees drawn to honey. he's one of the legendary sannin after all, a heroic man like him usually suits well with the ladies. so how come a gorgeous woman such as yourself seem to find no attraction to him?

womanizer!jiraiya who wonders if you just like the chasing game. that's fine— he doesn't mind playing the part if it's what gets you going.

womanizer!jiraiya who unintentionally happens to appear wherever shop you look around at next, offering to pay for anything you planned on getting all in agreement you gave him one chance. and if not that, at the very least a conversation.

womanizer!jiraiya who soon begins to realize that perhaps you just don't like him. he'd done nothing but show you kindness, consideration, and respect. so why did you insist on giving him zero effort in return for his?

womanizer!jiraiya who finally accepts his fate and heads back to his hotel room, dumped— but still looking forward to one last night of rest before he's back on the road by morning.

womanizer!jiraiya who on his walk there hears small commotion coming from a nearby alleyway that catches his attention. it isn't until he peaks around the corner to find you surrounded by a couple of punks does he interfere.

womanizer!jiraiya who interrupts their harassment with a couple of basic jutsu that sends low life's like them running in less than 5 minutes. although the pale look on your face is one he'd never thought he'd see, considering how unbothered you seemed to be earlier.

womanizer!jiraiya who checks on you with a warm smile, despite you turning him down harshly the whole day. "don't even worry about it, sweetheart!" he promises, "you sure you're alright?"

womanizer!jiraiya who watches as you bow out of thanks with your hands tucked tightly at your sides, face flushed with embarrassment as you assure him you were okay. and disgustingly enough, he can't help but wonder how you'd look bent over a desk with your legs spread wide, begging for him to fill you.

womanizer!jiraiya who is just about to turn around and leave before you're pulling him back by his wrist. "let me repay you, mister– uh.." you stumble for his name, biting your bottom lip as if internally cursing yourself for how stupid you may appear by now.

womanizer!jiraiya who only smirks at your struggle, finding this new side of you rather intriguing. "jiraiya, kiddo. you can call me jiraiya." and when you do, he curses himself for how good it sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.

womanizer!jiraiya who can hardly contain his excitement when you ask him to take you back to wherever he's staying so you can uphold your offer. no matter how cool he attempts to play it off as, his entire body gets hot at the imagination of what might happen.

womanizer!jiraiya who you shortly end up making out with in his room like theres no tomorrow. tongues exploring each others mouth sloppily, though neither of you complain when the feeling is euphoric.

womanizer!jiraiya who has his lips and body glued to yours as he lays you onto the bed, mattress dipping from the sudden weight. when he separates his mouth from yours and pulls back, the sight of you perfectly spread out for him has his cock aching.

womanizer!jiraiya who doesn't waste any time pulling your panties down and plunging a thick finger into your soaked cunt. he watches as you throw your head back in pleasure, lips parting open to release a sharp gasp. "so you really are into me, huh? surely you're wet enough to take a little more."

womanizer!jiraiya who stands by his word, adding in another finger to stretch your walls out. you moan his name aloud when he pumps his digits mercilessly. he could see with your already fucked-out face, that you'd reach your orgasm sooner than expected.

womanizer!jiraiya who takes your breathless whimpers as a sign and leans down to kiss you roughly, fingers never halting.

womanizer!jiraiya who has you caged beneath him on top of the bed, large chest rising and falling in sync with yours. the sound of your pussy squelching with each push is enough to send him over the rails as well.

womanizer!jiraiya who curls his fingers just in time, eyes opening to watch the beautiful scrunched-up face you make reaching your high. "there we go— shit, baby." he grunts, slowing down his pace. "good fucking girl."

womanizer!jiraiya who pulls his fingers out with your cum dripping off, quickly pushing them into his mouth to taste you. he closes his eyes and moans at how surprisingly sweet you are, not wasting a single drop as he cleans off your juices.

womanizer!jiraiya who think it's only fair if you see how delicious you are for yourself. pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a small "pop!", he grins before looking at you. "you wanna taste of both of us? c'mon, open up for me, pretty."

womanizer!jiraiya who presses his wet fingers to the plush of your lips, slowly pushing through as your warm mouth welcomes him happily. he analyzes how your glossy eyes look at him dazed, accepting him to fully control your body.

womanizer!jiraiya who groans and clenches his jaw when your tongue roams his two digits, watching with fascination as you lick up all that remains.

womanizer!jiraiya who feels his cock twitch with need in his pants, begging for any sort of friction. he grabs your hand and guides it onto his bulge, letting you fully grasp what he has in store for you. "you know what you do to me, kid?" his gaze meets with yours, and he smirks. "i'm dying to fuck you right now."

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

IMPORTANT POST PLEASE READ

Im gonna be honest and open for a sec, and please do not take this as "oh I HATE my community or I dont like the people who watch me" but honestly as of late (and I did highlight this during the mcc bit), ive felt like I havent been able to really be in my own community simply because of the constant way that "discourse" is handled. Making vague posts and not really tackling issues in a good way, all that is going to do is just show people a big "THIS COMMUNITY BAD" sign and not actually help anything within the community, all its going to do is have the good and potentially good people leave or not join in the first place. The way that discourse is treated that ive seen has been the main reason why I have started to try to distance myself, which has been the most heartbreaking thing I have had to do. I want problems to be solved in a mature, civil way, with either a dm or a reply, not an entire vague thing that only says "bad things are happening" and doesnt elaborate on anything or barely elaboratesa and only gives people on both the inside and outside a bad sign of what the community is. Making posts whenever something happens being like "here we go again" is only going to highlight the wrong things, and actually DOESNT help the issue at all! The problems should be discussed directly with the people who are doing said problems FIRST! Bring attention to behaviors and things that arent good DIRECTLY! And also, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO!!! It is not your duty as a viewer or fan of me to be involved in any of this if you do not want to! Just enjoy the content and make silly posts! As someone who constantly tried to fix and get into every problem as it was happening, it took a huge toll on my mental health, and I want you guys to just be able to enjoy the content without having to worry about what you say about it! Be constructive! Dont make posts again just being like "wow this community is so bad" because that doesnt solve literally anything! If you have enough passion to make the posts saying "wow this community is bad" then only post about that, you are only spreading that negative message, and not uplifting anything of actual value! And if the person you are trying to help is not willing or not listening, BLOCK! MUTE! DONT BRING MORE ATTENTION TO THE PERSON IF THEY ARE NOT BEING A GOOD PART OF THE COMMUNITY!!!! I know I say that if I see problems I will call them out, but I shouldnt have to babysit every single time a thing happens within the community as that just isnt a healthy way for a creator or a community to be handled. This does not mean that I do not care about the issues or dont want them fixed, rather it shouldnt take me having to make some grand statement every single time something happens it should take only your own self reflection and self awareness. And to add onto this, make sure that every once in a while no matter who you are you think and have that self reflection, you should be open to being willing to learn and grow as a person! And again, I do NOT want anyone taking this as "Wow this community is terrible" but rather that we just have things that need to be fixed and changed and THAT IS OKAY! I do not hate the community, I care so much about it that I want it to be a silly place for my content again! I want it to be the reason why people get into what I do because of it again! And I want to be able to just have fun and relax without having to worry about how every single thing that I may say could have someone stirring things up that simply dont help or solve anything! Take care of yourselves. And this isnt coming from a place of "I hate the community as a whole" but rather again I want to be able to exist and make content that we can all enjoy without having to worry about walking on eggshells around me or around eachother! At the end of the day im just a fella that wants to make silly videos for you all, and you are people who enjoy said videos. Nothing more. Nothing less.

[jester-lover]

P4 Relationship Headcanons

Authors Note/ I have read the manga up to the last English translated volume, but I’ll stick to the public school arc characterizations of them for convenience’s sake.

CW/fem! reader but otherwise no physical description , fluff, kindof accurate Victorian courting, a little angst, manga spoilers! I most definitely forgot this arc was getting animated, so I’m late, might be a little OOC, it’s been a few months since I read the manga

Edgar Redmond

Flattery was his main method of gaining your affections: descriptive poems sent to your mailbox, tulips and chocolates left on your doorstep by a mysterious admirer—a carefully held facade that fell apart when Edgar realized just how badly he wanted your affections returned.

While he has always considered himself a free spirit, capable of swiftly moving from one lover to another, he has an epiphany when he realizes he needs exclusivity with you. Edgar has found something beyond flings with you, a woman who can truly make him nervous; make his heart beat against his chest every time you bless him with a glance.

He isn’t always the most touchy lover, but he tends to take your arm in his while the two of you are out together. (He’ll do nothing more, as he doesn’t want rumors to spread around your private relationship.)

Edgar tends to fuss over you a bit, fixing your dresses, brushing his fingers over your coat, and generally keeping your appearance looking tidy; it’s an act of service that displays his affections for you.

Lawrence Bluewer

When I say all of his sisters gang up on him to tease him about his crush on you, I mean it. Lawrence tried his best to keep his love for you a secret, but his yearning glances over his glasses reveal his truth. They encourage him to speak to you, giving him advice about what women like. (Trust me, he needs it.)

Lawrence is a very dedicated man, particularly when it comes to you. He holds up all of the important customs of an exemplary Victorian man and treats you as an equal in all matters.

He’s adamant on listening to your opinion on matters involving the two of you, but he’ll also ask for your opinions on issues in his home and dorm. Your opinion is important to him.

Lawrence is a very intelligent young man; if you ever find yourself struggling with your schoolwork or a matter of principle in your personal life, he’ll help out to the best of his ability.

Call him by any affectionate nickname, and that carefully held stoicism crumbles before you, and a red tint suddenly appears on his pale face. The only time he ever broke his own rules was after the cricket match, when he embraced you tightly in the stands after winning, so much more proud of his victory now that you had seen it.

Herman Greenhill

It feels as if someone has struck him in the heart each time he lays his eyes on you. He can feel the warmth of his skin and the sweating of his palms each time he tries to talk to you without stumbling through his words. Herman is so utterly rigid and awkward around you, it’s completely obvious he’s head over heels.

He’s often flustered around you, even when you’re already courting, as one of his ideals of chivalry and respect is treating ladies kindly. He acts like a strict old man and a shy schoolboy at the same time, wanting your touch so desperately but bashing himself for it.

You will probably have to enact most of the affection between the two of you, sneaking kisses when your chaperone turns away, holding his hand when you walk into a more private corridor of his residence, and cheering loudly at his games. The easiest way to get a reaction from Herman is by showing off your stockings; he’s a sucker for good hosiery.

Despite his proud and sort of arrogant personality, Herman is a shy and careful lover; he remembers all of your favorites and special days, and he loves receiving your praise. Whenever he achieves something, he immediately looks to you, waiting to see what you make of him.

Gregory Violet

You wouldn’t even know of his existence when he first saw you, but he was always there, with a thick black sketchbook filled with drawings of you, going about your daily routine and interacting with others in a way he only wished he could. The sheer amount of yearning he does could put the poets to shame.

You are his muse; even when Gregory is creating something completely irrelevant to you, he’ll remember you; you are so infused with everything he makes. Because he has put you on this goddess-like pedestal, he doesn’t think he deserves you, which is why he’s so surprised when you agree to court him.

Gregory’s affection comes in bursts; some days he’ll be too nervous to look you in the eye, but other times he’s practically joined at your hip. He’s not the most talkative lover, but when his eyes flit through you, examining you closely with a blush stretched across his features, he appreciates you like you are art.

He plays the role of the gentleman in public, keeping his respectful distance, but he often seeks your comfort in the few moments you can sneak alone, laying his head on your lap as you brush through his two-toned hair and rambling uncharacteristically about the struggles of his role. He’s a non-conformist, and he often wished the society you lived in wasn’t so strict, so that you and him could act as wild and free as you did in the leather binding of his sketchbook.

[gaspshichat]

extremely long pearl appreciation post except this time i'm maintagging bc i want her to see this. she deserves to see this

she is the kindest soul ever. every bit message, every sub message, every gifted sub, and as many chat messages as possible are read. she genuinely doesn't want anyone to be left out

pearl had a rough start to stream today with a bunch of bots saying really weird things and someone revealing private information of hers which is weird. i have choice words for them but i'll keep myself pg for this post

it resulted in her having to turn on sub only mode which she said upset her. what did chat do?

they gifted probably around 200-500 subs to the community

pearl kept saying how bad she felt that she was practically forced into turning on sub only mode but she also said she didn't want her community gifting so many subs bc of an awful situation. they still did

i will always say that pearl is the nicest person ever. anytime smth bad happens to someone in chat, she's sympathetic and kind and gives them a message. anytime smth good happens to someone in chat, she's very excited and happy for them

it takes someone who is genuinely kind and selfless to do that. pearl does not have to read every bit message and sub message. but she does

her community reflects this kindness. i got broken up with two hours before valentine's day and told chat [bc streams for me are 6am-10am]. chat was so kind and gave me ideas on what to do with the flowers [which i did what they suggested!]

i've been in fandom communities for almost ten years now. pearl's is the kindest. there are so many people in chat i recognize [secret agent, sapphicwhimsy, kawaiitron, voxkeys, cardmoney, etc] that i look forward to seeing in chat. usually i dread seeing what happens in twitch chat's

not hers. hers are so full of kindness bc she is full of kindness and it just radiates and spreads to her community. yes it's fairly no nonsense, her deleting any weird messages, but that's to make sure it's a good place to be

i've been having nightmares and flashbacks recently due to reasons i wish to keep private. very few youtubers/streamers are able to help me sleep without those issues. pearl is one of them. her community is genuinely safe

i tell everyone interested in mcyt to watch pearl. i've been spreading pearl propaganda [/silly]. she deserves so much more than she has. pearl deserves the world

this is an extremely long post but i need to get my point across to her and anyone else, whether they're a pearl fan or not [yet]

pearl, we all love you and are proud to be part of the community. you are such a genuinely sweet person who deserves all the kindness in the world. i'm so sorry you had to deal with that bullshit [pardon my language]. it does genuinely suck but i hope the ~300 subs helped make you feel better hehe 🫶🫶

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. 

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule. 

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again. 

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality.  With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections. 

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here. 

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process. 

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works. 

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it.  You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself. 

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on. 

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed. 

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

 I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world. 

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself. 

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength.  I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance. 

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen. 

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening. 

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned. 

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal. 

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before. 

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality.  You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you. 

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you. 

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME. 

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you. 

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason. 

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer. 

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes. 

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again. 

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 2)

This part doesn’t have the Alastor x Lucifer scene I previewed! I pushed it to the next part since this was already a big chunk of text. I hope you still enjoy it! 🥺 I can do a male reader, I just need a little time as I’ll need to rewrite quite a bit

Locked doors

「Luci was pining to return to your bed, even if he couldn’t fully understand why Alastor exists in it. Luckily for you both, You got a night alone with the King of Hell and before Alastor can implode the whole situation, he had a change of heart perspective.」

[warnings/promises: Lucifer x FemReader, smut, No AlastorxReader this part, Luci eats you out, Luci has a nose, Alastor thinks about gardening but in a jerk kind of way, s e x, Husker is reminded of his chains, Charlie is naive, Facesitting, Luci’s horns, sweet little kisses, aftercare at the before part, creampie is like nyquil, Luci is an entire daddy kink]

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

minors DNI 🤌🏼

He didn’t want to be fully naked near Alastor, but the idea of bathing with you overpowered his hate. When he entered the bathroom, he found you reclining into Alastor, back to chest, as Alastor’s fingers massaged soap into your upper arms.

Your eyes, closed in comfort, popped open when you sensed his presence, “Luci!” Your legs folded, “Get in.”

Lucifer looked around the clawed foot porcelain tub. He didn’t want to admit he liked the style, obviously picked out by Alastor. With the same hesitancy as before, he stripped and lowered himself in the water opposite you and Alastor.

A wave of stress, again, watching you two intertwined in each other’s attention. But you pushed back against that feeling, hands slipping past his hooved feet until you found his calf. Lifting his leg up, Lucifer yelped as he slid down into the water. Your hands rubbed along the muscle of his leg, humming softly.

He watched you, Alastor disappearing from view entirely. “Thank you, Kitten.” Your smile widened. Eyes wandering down, he found your foot and pressed into the arches with strong fingers. You moaned, visibly relaxing into Alastor’s chest. “Feel good?”

You nodded, “Your hands only ever make me feel good, Luci.”

He nearly choked on his breath, cheeks brightening a scarlet red. How could you get so brutally fucked and still speak to sweetly? Was that really the same mouth?

A stupid grin spread across your face as you pressed into Alastor.

“Happy?” He asked, low and into your hair. 

“Happiest.”  Eyes closed, basking in the glory of your conquest. “What do you like to do after sex?”

It took Lucifer a second to realize you were talking to him, “Oh! Uhh,” a nervous scratch to his cheek, “Kiss? Cuddle. Normal things.” He hoped Alastor took the word normal as an insult but unfortunately he seemed to not be paying any attention. Without opening your eyes, you spread your arms and invited Lucifer to kiss.

He felt his knees graze Alastor’s legs as he shifted, leaning in to you he let his lips touch yours gently. Your arms came around his shoulders and pulled him in for more. He fell into your chest, pressing your body further into Alastor’s. You cooed into his mouth, opening to lick across his lips, finally looking at him. Staring into each other’s eyes, you hoped he could see it, hoped your absolute bliss was palpable to him. Sandwiched between your own personal rock and hard place, you struggled to keep a naughty giggle in your chest. What a lucky girl you were. 

Properly cleaned and doted on, you found yourself in Alastor’s large bed with the men. Alastor had no issues slipping under the blankets and into sleep, your body curled up against his. You were facing Lucifer, who looked exhausted. 

“Sorry for the shock.” You whispered, hand slipping from under the blanket to hold his own. Your mouth opened to say something else, but you stopped yourself. You felt like Lucifer needed space to process.

And he did, taking a moment to look over your face, large red and black deer ears peeking from the blankets behind you. 

“Why did he have to be here?” His fangs bared, “Why not just us?”

Your fingers twirled the wedding band on his left hand, “We have our own little set of rules for what is okay, and he’s always going to be there. That’s the only way this can work.”

Always? This? He wasn’t sure which to grab ahold of first. 

“I’ll never get you alone?” He thought he hid his sadness, but he was in fact pouting very noticeably. 

“Not unless Alastor says so.”

Neither noticed Alastor’s grin slipping through his fake sleep.

His pout deepened, “I hate him.”

“I know.” You laughed, because it was funny. There was really no reason for either of them to hate each other but it seemed neither of their egos could exist in the same room without causing the bad kind of friction. 

“But I -,” He laced his fingers with yours, stopping the reminder of his own vows and to some extent your own, “You. I don’t hate you.”

“Do you not-hate me enough?” said quieter than your other questions, as nervous for the answer as you were the first one of the night. 

“Enough?” Brow knit, Lucifer’s pout melted away. You squeezed his hand. Could he tolerate Alastor enough? Get enough of you for himself? His mind came to greed, to Mammon and his disgust for the sin incarnate. Lucifer had been greedy before, tried to take more than he was allowed, and it led to very terrible things. Some would argue the very worst of all things. 

His nod was barely perceivable. You wondered if you’d imagined it. Perhaps your heart was beating so fast, your eyes shook just enough to see what you wanted. 

Lucifer fell asleep, hand in yours. When he woke, he found himself turned around. At some point he must have rolled away from you, but before he could wake enough to correct the situation, he noticed your own sounds. 

“Allie~” You purred, a tone he had never heard you use before an– Allie?? He gagged.

He could feel the blankets shifting, bed dipping behind him. 

“You’re in odd form, beloved.” Alastor said it softly, not meant for anyone else to ever hear, “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

A huff, a sigh, you made the smallest whimper, “Do you think Luci -?”

Alastor didn’t let you finish, “I don’t ever think about him, darling. So, no.”

Lucifer heard a smack of skin, you playfully hitting Alastor’s chest. “Be nice,” It was a warning, not a suggestion. “I didn’t want to wake him up yet…” The bed dipped again before he felt your hands slip under his arm and down his chest. He tensed, “Luci” you whispered a sing-song form of his name, “Wake up, please. I need your company before I start my day.”

He wanted to whip around but knew that’d be suspicious, he needed to play it cool. Be a man who was totally asleep this whole time. Lucifer closed his eyes, as if you could see his face at all, and forced out a yawn. “Hmm?” He hoped he sounded sleepy, as he was fully alert at this point. 

“Good morning, your majesty.” Your hand snaked down his stomach, “Can I have a moment of your time, sire? I’d like an audience with you.” 

He bit his bottom lip, loving the way you spoke about his position. “Sire” was now second to “Daddy” to his ears. His mind couldn’t play along, already overwhelmed. “I’m not busy at the moment…so…” 

Stupid. Terrible. 

Alastor agreed with the sentiment Lucifer didn’t vocalize. 

Your hand slipped immediately into his boxers, little blue shorts with bright yellow duckies. Taking long, gentle strokes you found him eager to wake up for you, too. 

Luci folded the pillow into his face, stifling a groan as he grew under your fingers. You let his foreskin slide up and down his shaft, rubbing along his head until he had grown too large to accommodate. Luckily for you and Luci, he was leaking like a faucet and providing you just the lubricant to keep your hand gliding over his length. 

He rolled over and began to kiss you, but you quickly pushed him onto his back, coming to straddle him. “May I?” You ground your hips down, wet lips sliding across his cock. Lucifer choked out a reply, something between “yes” and “please” fell from his mouth. You were already naked? Had he missed something?

His eyes flitted to Alastor, who was leaving the bed and going to his armoire. You brought his attention back to you, one hand on his stomach, the other lining him up. Still soft and sore from the night before, Luci much easier slipped into you as you sank down until he was fully sheathed. Taking a moment, you sat on his impossibly hard cock and tried to think of where to put your hands. You leaned back, finding the angle to press his length along your plush g-spot. Slowly, hands on his thighs behind you, you rose up and lowered yourself. 

Luci’s hands came to your hips, needing something to hold on to. Watching you bounce on his cock was making him sweat, not taking into account the feeling of your tight heat so early in the morning. His sweet angel, taking his cock so well. He fought the urge to push you down and let months of pent up affection pound you into the bed.

Soon enough, you were rising and just letting your full body weight drop onto his lap. When you tried to take a hand to touch yourself, Luci’s tail wound up your thigh. You were startled, slowing to see the spade tip pressing down and flicking across your needy clit.

“What the fuck, Luci?” a breathy rhetorical, hand going back to his thigh to regain the speed and force you lost. As you found yourself coming up to that edge, pleasure peaking, you began to moan out his name. Little “Luci”’s and Lucifer”’s chanted to the ceiling. 

Luci’s head pushed down into the pillow, mind unfurling. “Enough,” He whispered into the air, hips rutting up to meet your frenzied thrusts, his reply lost in the sounds of your bodies connecting. 

⫘⫘⫘

Lucifer tried to be normal around the hotel, but as hours turned to days he found it harder and harder to keep it together. While always aware of you, always looking for you, he was now noticing the dynamic between yourself and Alastor. The two of you were often in the same spaces, but rarely together. It baffled him. If you were his, he’d never take his hands off you. His fingers would always be in yours, hand on your back, arm linked in arm. How could Alastor exist around you in any other state than at your feet? 

He began to wonder what exactly you saw in the deer demon. Yes, his dick did work, much to Lucifer’s surprise. But surely that wasn’t it. Because Lucifer’s dick also worked. The math was not mathing.

His bed was suddenly too large. Silk sheets too cold. Room too quiet. Lucifer found himself pacing the halls at night, mind wandering to what you were doing. What you both may be doing. How he would, could, fit in.

Any time he could, he found a reason to touch you. Handing him a plate? Fingers gliding over yours. Entering the same room? Ah, his hand fit so perfectly on the small of your back as he let you go first. Look at this paper! Slide beside him, let his hand come to rest on your waist. Before, he avoided every chance to feel your skin under his own. Now, he was hungry for every little taste. He felt like lightning bit him with every connection to you. He wondered if you felt it, too. 

Alastor wasn’t blind. He saw Lucifer’s eyes watching you. How he followed you like a lost puppy. 

He nearly snapped his microphone in two one morning, seeing Lucifer’s hand around your waist. It was odd, the sex? No issue! Who cares? It’s just bodies. He knew you were satisfied with him regardless of if you ever fucked. You both were quite content to just lie in bed and read, kissing and cuddling under the blankets before bed. 

But something about this was getting under his skin. Maybe it was the public setting, almost an insult to him. Showing everyone how the King of Hell could have anything he wanted. Anyone.

Or maybe it was something messier. These weren’t lustful touches. His hands were always so gentle on you, tender. There was emotion behind the way Lucifer’s fingers grazed your body. He was fine with watching another soul lust after you. Your body was something he could share, just flesh. Your heart? His hair bristled. Would Lucifer undermine what he had?

Mint. His mother planted it once in the yard. Mint grows exceptionally well. Too well. If not properly contained, it will spread across the garden and become a weed and overtake the other plants.

He relished in uprooting the mint by the fistfuls. 

Seeing Lucifer laugh loudly, leaning into your ear to whisper something that made you giggle in return, Alastor thought about mint. Best when ripped from the ground and muddled with a ridged dowel. 

When you knocked on Lucifer’s studio door later that night, the place he had built specially for himself in the new and improved hotel, he frantically tried to clean up the space. You hadn’t been alone with him since that morning nearly a week prior now. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t actually planned on Lucifer agreeing to join Alastor and you in bed. You weren’t sure how to politely invite him back without sounding like you saw him as just a fuck buddy. When you voiced your concern to Alastor, he laughed. Then patted your head.

Not overly helpful.

“Hey there! Long time no see huh?” He laughed a little too hard.

“Luci, we saw each other at breakfast.” 

His hat seemed to wither on his head, “Right yeah haha that— time away from you feels so long! The heart —,” he stopped talking, “Inside?” Wide eyed, he gestured for you to enter. 

With a nod, you walked in. Just, so many ducks. An ungodly number of ducks. Too many, some could argue.

“What’s the latest creation?” You searched the room for anything obviously special.

Lucifer grabbed your hand as he walked past and pulled you to the desk. “Check this out.” He cupped his hands, holding up a duck with six wings and tiny horns. The wings flapped gently.

“Little Luci duck?” You tapped the beak. 

He hummed, “Do you like it? I thought maybe for your bath.” 

You genuinely didn’t know what to say. Your finger slid up the head and down the back. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed the tiny orange beak. “Now I can have you in my bath every night.” 

A smirk, squiggly and long spread across his face.  Shoulder to shoulder at his drawing table, he leaned over to kiss your cheek. Your finger tapped your lips, instructions for where to bring his lips next.

“Dad?”

Lucifer flipped around, knocking up against the desk and causing ducks to cascade down, “CHARLIE! Haha! HEY!” 

Charlie was standing in the open doorway, eyes bouncing from you to Lucifer and back. “Sorry, are you… busy?”

If you stayed very very still maybe she wouldn’t see you. 

No? Yes? Which— which was the least suspicious?

“No?” Lucifer offered.

“I wanted to talk to you about some hotel stuff. I can come back later?”

You folded, sliding away from Lucifer, “I was just going, actually.” You nodded at Charlie, hands behind your back holding your duck. 

Alastor lied on your bed while you wallowed, your upset amusing to him. Where you saw an issue, he saw an opportunity. His wide smile seemed to shine under the dim light of your room, “Charlie is too innocent to make such a leap, dear. She’d need much more than that to suspect anything.” 

“I just don’t wanna cause him trouble. His life has enough strife. I didn’t start this to make things harder on him.” You buried your face into the pillow. 

His hand petted softly at your hair, “Why did you start this?”

You and Alastor weren’t a very sexual couple, and though your libido was stronger opposed to Alastor’s distinct lack of one, that was never an issue. But part of why he even allowed Lucifer to join your bed was to help round out your pleasure. Not that Luci was just a dick to you, literally. Alastor knew how badly you wanted to dote on the monarch, and when we you discussed your desires he was happy to oblige. As long as you didn’t stray from his side, Alastor was fine with holding the reins of this extension, of sorts, to your own relationship. 

But he was, at his core, a mortal soul. He was not impervious to feelings of envy.

“Well, yes, more sex with powerful people is quite nice.” Alastor nodded in agreement, the openness something he was fine with. “But I just wanna see him smile more. He’s so-,”

“Insignificantly small?”

You glared from over the pillow, “Cute.”

His fingers traced down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face to receive a kiss, “Do I still have the controlling share of your heart?”

Rarely, nearly never, did Alastor admit worry. You immediately sat up, the simple question sending off alarms. “Of course! Say the word, I’ll lock the door. Our doors only open as wide as we decide. Together.” Alastor hummed, content with the answer. 

“That’s all I need to hear! I will be back by midnight, don’t lock anything before then.” With a kiss to your forehead, he excused himself down to the bar.

Sure enough, within an hour Lucifer pulled himself into a bar stool and asked Husk for a soda water with lime. He notoriously avoided alcohol.

From his chair, Alastor watched the king of hell frown into the glass. If he could, he would drink that pitiful look by the bottle.

Alastor appeared beside Lucifer, flashing two fingers to Husk. 

“You look like the dog who got kicked.” Alastor’s grin, toothy and sharp, smiled at Lucifer. A laugh track faintly played in the background of his static voice.

“Hey here’s an idea! Go fuck yourself.”

War requires sacrifice. To truly get what you want will always cost you. Alastor knew this well, having paid many prices along his life and death to ultimately come out ahead. 

“She’s quite sad, you know. Poor thing is in her bed now, cradling a small duck.” Alastor tipped his glass into his mouth. Lucifer didn’t reply, frown pushing into a pout.

“She’ll be asleep by 11, normally when she starts to doze off. Unless, of course, she’s otherwise preoccupied.” The whiskey burned, he only drank it neat. Unadulterated.

“Are you bragging? Why are you telling me this, you haunted broomstick?”

The glass cracked in his hand as he set it down, “Because, you empty headed lawn ornament, I’m giving you my blessing to visit her.” Alastor’s bones seemed to snap as his head turned to look at Lucifer with an eerie jerking.

Immediately he perked up, “Oh. Together?” Suspicious.

“I’ll be there later.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side, “You can go ahead.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! Why so suspicious?” Alastor’s eyes rolled, now with a smaller grin, “My darling just has such an appetite, whereas I don’t need quite as much, as often.” 

That made… sense. A lot of sense, actually. Lucifer let that bit of information blanket the past week of observations and everything lined up. 

“Oh!” Lucifer swivelled his chair, “Okay….does she..want me to see her?” He gripped his cane, a nervous reaction, “She hasn’t actually brought it up since.”

“How would I know? I was as shocked as you when she asked for you in the first place.” Husk watched Alastor’s smile twitch, hearing what sounded like pure annoyance in his voice as he said it. 

Lucifer opened his mouth to make a jab, but thought better of it and abandoned the drink and the bar to find you. 

Husk tried to sneak away, but felt the tug of his chains.

“What did you hear, Husker?” Husk’s fur stood on end as he slowly turned to face the fearsome radio demon. 

“Nothing, boss. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hand had to set the bottle he carried down, shaking too much to be sure he wouldn’t drop it. 

“Good boy.” Alastor finished his whiskey, “I’d hate to have to find a new bartender. Another, please and thank you. I’ve got some time to kill.”

⫘⫘⫘

“Luci?” You looked around the hall, wondering if perhaps someone else had come with him, “What’s up?”

He opened his arms, “That piece of shit said I could see you. Alone.”

Your smile fell, “Why would he do that?” Lucifer laughed, shrugging it off. 

“Maybe he knows he is no match for our connection.” His brows rose up and down his face.

“That….definitely isn’t it, Luci.”

He looked wounded, “May I still come in? If you want me, that is. Want me TO! Want me, to enter. Inside the room. Your room. Bedroom. This-.,” You opened the door the rest of the way and moved aside. 

“What exactly did Alastor say?” You sat on the small bench at the foot of your bed.

 The worry was visible on your face.

“Something about different appetites. Aaand I could come up before he came to bed. Oh, and that you were sad.” Lucifer set his hat on the dresser, resting the cane to the side. 

Those were true things. 

Yes, you had been sad. Moping just before Alastor left, come to think of it….was this a little gift? Why wouldn’t Alastor tell you beforehand? You rarely did anything without discussing it first. 

“Did you not want to see me?” Luci misread your face. 

“Oh! No!” 

He winced.

“No, I mean– no, I did not …not want to see you.” Fuck, his nervous energy was spreading. How did you ever manage a private conversation with him before? “I am very happy you’re here. I felt so bad, about earlier. Did I cause you any trouble with Charlie?”

Luci plopped down beside you, “Don’t be silly! She thinks we’re run of the mill pals!” A laugh, “I think.”

Your eyes searched the room. Alone together, in a truly private place. But again, you wanted to show Lucifer more than just your lust for him. You wanted to see him smile, to feel appreciated and seen. That was harder to do when in a dick fog. 

“Are you okay with starting with a cuddle this time, Luci?” Standing, you lowered the lights with the dial on the wall. “We can move past it if you’re feeling it. Or just enjoy being in each other’s company.”

“I love cuddling! I’m a pro at cuddling! Haha, yes. Totally okay.” He paused, “Why are you laughing?”

You pulled back the covers, getting into bed, “You’re so cute, your majesty.” He felt that stupid grin creep across his face, “Come to bed.”

With a puff of red smoke, he was in his boxers and scrambling to you. You tried to stifle another laugh, what a silly person the Devil was. “You could have done that every time?” You asked. He just nodded, hands coming around your body and pulling you close to him. “You’re so warm.”  Your nose brushed against his.

“Fires of hell and all that.” He kissed the tip of your nose, before lightly pressing his lips to your own. Another peck, his hands roaming up your hips and then your arms, then coming to your cheek. He pulled you closer now, deepening his once chaste kisses. 

Was this cuddling? You thought you had wanted to dote on him. But now it seemed you were the one being showered in adoration. He sighed into your mouth, and your mind went blank. Yes this was cuddling. This was anything he said he wanted it to be. 

Lips soft, mouth warm, tongue forked. His head tilted, desperate to get himself deeper into your mouth. You tasted like heaven, something he was too scared to miss. Tongue rolling over yours, you moaned into the kiss. Luci’s hands slid from your face to your hip, hand gripping you as he groaned in response. Hips slowly rolling into nothing, he tried to calm down. He finally had you all to himself, and his body reacted with an eagerness he had forgotten. Your own hands pushed gently against his chest, not to make distance, but to feel his body pressing up against your own skin. 

His lips parted yours, he went to speak but instead returned to kissing you. Leaving your lips and travelling down your neck, he found the will to talk, “Tonight, let me take the lead?” You nodded, wondering what his lead would look like. 

Alastor was always chasing something in you, feeding off more than your body. The few times he would want to go beyond just caressing, he would wring pleasure from you like a deserted man to an empty canteen. His body quaking with every drop he could manage. 

And Lucifer? Your already wet cunt clenched around nothing but possibilities. You nodded, watching a fire light behind his eyes you hadn’t seen in the bedroom before.

“I’m going to spoil you rotten.” His face was bright, both hands pulling your hips onto him as he rolled onto his back. “You don’t need these.” Clawed hands tugging at your panties beneath your open robe. 

Oh. That was quick.

As you leaned back to remove them, Lucifer’s mind was on timing. He could eat you out for hours if afforded it, but he knew Alastor would be coming in eventually. Lucifer had no intentions of sharing you tonight. 

When you sat down, his hands hooked under your thighs and pulled you up. And up. 

“Luci?”

“Let me show you how I ruined eden.” He opened his mouth, long tongue snaking out in a truely debauched display.  Your body was just near his chin now, and you were too stunned to move. His hands slapped your ass playfully, “Please take a seat, kitten. Your throne awaits.”

Would you suffocate him? Did he need breathe? Were you heavy? Shou-

“Pet.” His hands drummed on your thighs, “Just grab the headboard.”

Mortified. You placed your knees on either side of his head and gripped the headboard. You barely had a chance to lower yourself before he pulled you onto his mouth.

Hot breath. Luci had been dreaming of this for weeks, long before your initial invite. His tongue lapped up the slick from hole to clit, humming into your skin. Your thighs clenched and you had to focus to open them again. You apologized, but Luci just winked and made a show of taking two fingers and setting them on your thigh where he held you. 

You’d never done anything where you were the one on watch for the tap tap. It felt…. Good. Deep breath, relax into the system you made for each other.

His tongue dipped into your heat, you hadn’t considered the positive attributes of its length until now. Your hips rocked slowly, the feeling of his soft and determined tongue along you walls making your mind reel. How could something be so gentle but so ravaging? Had anyone’s tongue ever been so deep in you?

Resting your forehead on the headboard you watched Luci’s eyes close, his smile felt from thigh to thigh. Nowhere was Lucifer more in his element than mouth under a wet cunt. As your breath quickened so did your hips, grinding down more and more as you felt the pleasure spiking with every touch. 

Luci’s tongue left your now dripping hole to latch onto your clit. Sharp teeth pricked your skin as he began to suck, expert tongue intermittently lapping at your little bud of nerves. 

Your knuckles were turning white as you considered snapping the headboard in half in an attempt to chase the euphoria. It felt so good, but as the time was going forward you could tell it wasn’t enough to get you over that hurdle. 

Cold air rushed to your flushed skin, “What do you need, kitten?” Two large eyes, yellow and red, looked up from your lap.

“I want to feel you. Inside.” Your eyes flitted up as his mouth returned to his measured pace on your clit. Whimpering, you thought about reaching back and inserting your own fingers when you found your new friend beat you to it. His spaded tail folded in on itself and slipped past your twitching entrance.

You choked out a noise, the sensation something entirely foreign. Smooth and cold, he just needed to get the tip inside for you to start moaning in earnest. Your body was rocking between his tongue and his tail, shortening the intervals as you ramped up to your orgasm. 

His hands on your thighs tightened, clawed hands digging into your flesh. His moan made your feet cramp, legs now twitching. “Close— Luci!” Talking felt like losing your place, but the way he moaned in response egged you on, “Luci! Please don’t sto-,” your abdomen tight, body locked as it edged to that peak, your pleas to not stop devolved into whispered a, “no no no no god no” into the wooden bed frame.

Lucifer’s hands snaked up your sides, holding onto your waist he pulled your full weight down into his mouth, tail twisting as it thrust in and out of you. Just deep enough that the large edge of the spade was spreading your lips with every movement. 

Eyes closed, your body shook violently over his face as you finally broke through, orgasm flooding your system with endorphins. Feet, legs,  stomach, hands, everything loosened. Luci’s tongue stopped, tail slipping out. 

You didn’t make a move, needing a second to just bask in the feeling.

Before it fully waned, Luci’s arms came up and over your thighs before he pushed your body toward his chest. And then you felt yourself falling backwards.

He’d pushed himself off the bed and flipped you so quickly you hadn’t even seen it happen. Vision adjusting you saw his yellow eyes now red, red and black horns sprouted from his forehead.

“Open up for Daddy, kitten.” He was fully buried in your softened pussy before you could form a thought. Your body hadn’t forgotten his size, but you still felt a burning at your entrance where the skin struggled to stretch for him. Luci’s body fell onto yours, his hands bringing your legs up past his hips and behind his back. You hooked your feet together around his waist and held on with both arms, eyes rolling back with every thrust.

“You feel so good, you’re so tight,” he moaned directly into your ear. Bodies tightly pressed together, an embrace where only his hips would leave your skin and just long enough to piston back into you. Your legs were so far up that your hips weren’t on the bed anymore. The angle made your head fall back, muscles unable to receive signals from your bliss addled brain. His arms were under yours, resting beneath your back and on your shoulders, pulling you tighter into to him. You felt surrounded by him, every part of your body touching his. A tangle of flesh and whimpers. “You’re so beautiful, kitten. You take daddy’s cock so well. I’m melting.” His horns brushed against your head, the sound of them slipping across the comforter with every thrust reminding you of their presence.

Lucifer felt lost in you. He fought to keep his mind clear enough to ensure his embrace stayed gentle. You were a bundle of softness and heat under him. He felt his balls creeping up, tightening as he was ready to chase your own orgasm with his. For a second his eyes searched the immediate area for Alastor. The word “cum” ringing in his ears.

With a sigh, hot and heavy at your neck, he pressed into you as far as his body could enter. As you could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, your cunt began to spasm around him. Body instinctively hungry for him. His hands hooked under your shoulders held you still, your legs still tight around his waist.

You stayed there until you both were breathing normally. Your legs fell down, thighs falling open as you released your grip on him. Luci didn’t move for another minute, opting to rest his head in your chest. Silence, just the gently rolling waves of soft pleasure and contentment still coming.

Satiated, you suddenly felt so drowsy. “Luci.”

His head popped up, horns gone and sclera back to yellow, “Yes, kitten?”

“Blankets.” You let your eyes closed, feeling the comforter being pulled to you.

Alastor walked in to find you both asleep, Lucifer still on top of you, heads at the foot of the bed and feet on the pillows. The comforter half assed folded over your bodies.

He wasn’t surprised. Alastor peeled Luci off of you and tossed him onto the pillows. 

“Fuck you, hair cut,” Lucifer whispered, between awake and asleep.

“Yes yes, your majesty. Fuck you too.” Alastor picked you up and set you where you belonged. He pulled the blankets over you both, taking a beat to stare down at the scene.

Beloved, happily asleep. Obnoxious monarch, looking angelic beside you. Lucifer looked so much more tolerable when sleeping.

He considered for a moment returning to his own room, as he had planned all along. Looking from you to Lucifer, he felt something swell in his chest. 

Keeping you was a treasure. A treasure he trusted would always be his. But to have you and the king of hell? Not just influence by way of your ties to Lucifer? Well, that could bring power.

His mother always recommended containment for mint, Alastor pulling too many and not allowing for them to enjoy the benefits of their hard work for very long. Containment, he considered, locking the bedroom door and taking his place beside you.

⫘⫘⫘

When there was a knock in the morning all three of you popped up from the pillows.

“Who the hell is that? It’s so early…” your eyes struggled to focus on the clock.

“Fffuck,” Alastor held his face in his hands. “I forgot I-,”

“Hello?” Charlie said into the door.

You and Lucifer slowly turned to stare at Alastor, a thin smile from ear to ear on his face.

“Alastor asked me to wake you up. So you wouldn’t miss the planning meeting.”

“Can’t a demon be a little chaotic now and then?” Alastor mused, your eyes boring holes into his skull. 

The doorknob rattled, “Oh… He said it would be open. Well, okay… I guess I’ll let you sleep! Maybe next week!”

As Charlie made her way down the hall she just missed the sound of furniture moving and a thud as Lucifer tackled Alastor out of the bed and onto the floor, hands on his throat. 

This was going to be a problem.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[feirceangel]

Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.

So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!

Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.

"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.

"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."

Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"

"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."

Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."

The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."

Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.

Always plans within plans within plans.

It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.

House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.

The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.

Until now, apparently.

A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.

He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.

And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.

He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.

~~~

Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.

So much more colour than Feyd is used to.

His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.

"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.

"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."

Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.

"As I said, it's an honour."

His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.

"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.

"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."

This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"

"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."

Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.

His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.

They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.

The viewing box is empty.

"There my lord."

Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.

"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.

He hadn't expected this.

Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.

She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.

He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.

“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.

“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”

He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.

“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”

He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.

“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”

Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.

He cannot wait.

There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.

Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.

He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.

You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”

His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.

“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.

“I prefer to do it myself.”

He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”

“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.

It seems he’s struck a nerve.

“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”

You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”

Your last statement has him pausing.

“What did you say?”

Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.

“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”

He does not remember such a thing.

“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”

Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.

A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.

He’s shocked he forgot it.

You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.

“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”

“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.

“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”

He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.

“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.

You smirk, “Does it not please you?”

“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.

“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”

He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.

You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.

Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.

You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.

Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.

“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”

“None were you, my lord.”

“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.

You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”

“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.

He releases his hold.

“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.

“Because I will make you.”

Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.

“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”

“Of course, my lady.”

[Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!]

[lucysarah1875]

Mounting Spring Ch. 12

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Warnings: Omegaverse, age gap, arrangemarriage. Ao3 link to the whole work.

“Did you hear the screaming?” A cadet whispered to Floch, voice barely above a breath, yet just enough to make Armin and Jean glance over.

Floch scoffed, arms crossed. “Who didn’t? Sounded pathetic.” Then, with a sneer, he added, “Did you catch the smell on her? Disgusting.”

“Are they talking about Y/N?” Sasha asked under her breath. Armin only shrugged, uncertain as a beta, but Jean gave a slight nod—so small it was almost imperceptible, careful not to draw attention.

“She needs to learn her place,” someone muttered through clenched teeth, the words laced with quiet resentment, as if the situation irked them more than it did Captain Levi himself. “If she were my omega, she wouldn’t even think of stepping out of line like that.”

The men murmured their agreement, though none dared to raise their voices. No matter how much they sneered at the Captain’s supposed weakness, none of them were stupid enough to let him hear.

Armin sighed, his exhaustion laced with quiet sympathy, while Sasha murmured uneasily, “So… they’re still fighting?” The tension had lingered in the air since their return from the capital.

Nearby, Levi stood, papers in hand, issuing orders as he scanned the lists before pointing ahead. Yet his focus wavered. His mind was elsewhere—everywhere except here.

“Sir.” A cadet approached briskly but without urgency, saluting politely. Levi gave a curt nod, granting permission to speak.

“We retrieved the supplies from your chambers as ordered, sir.”

Another nod.

“Uh…” The cadet hesitated, hands clasped behind his back, legs stiff in a formal stance. His voice wavered as he searched for the right words. “Your… wife.”

The last word came out uncertain, as if the young man sought confirmation.

“Yes,” Levi replied, clipped and impatient, unwilling to waste time on semantics.

“She insists that the pet be taken with her.”

“Yes.”

Silence settled over the group like a thick fog. Several scouts exchanged glances, some rolling their eyes. Even among those who had transferred into the Survey Corps from other divisions—many seasoned soldiers—doubt simmered beneath their obedience.

“Sir…” One of the older soldiers stepped forward, his voice calm but edged with unspoken challenge. “If I may speak freely?”

Levi didn’t grant permission. He simply stared, dead-eyed, daring the man to continue.

The soldier swallowed but pressed on. “The horses may not take well to the animal’s presence.”

More silence.

“And… she doesn’t know how to ride. This could slow us down.”

Levi remained silent, letting the words hang, waiting—because he knew the real reason behind this sudden concern. And sure enough, the soldier cracked under the weight of his stare.

“I’m only suggesting, sir, that if you need us to step in and handle the matter—”

“Are you implying I’m incapable of handling it myself?”

Levi’s tone was flat, unimpressed, yet laced with quiet danger. One hand rested on his hip while the other held up the clipboard, flipping through pages as if this was any other mundane conversation.

A flicker of unease spread among the men. They weren’t stupid. Levi knew better than anyone how quickly rumors spread about high-ranking officers. The moment he raised his voice, the moment he let this conversation turn into an argument, it would become fuel for the fire already burning around him.

He could already hear it. Every alpha who had come across her since their return had caught on to the scent. And Levi… Levi was in no mood for this nonsense. He hadn’t been for months.

His ego had taken a hit—whether he admitted it or not. And no matter how much restraint he practiced, he wasn’t about to let vultures circle, thinking they could pick at his pride like scraps.

“We’re only making a suggestion, sir,” the soldier tried again, this time more cautious.

Levi’s gaze sharpened.

“Limit yourself to doing what you’re told,” he bit out, each word precise and edged with resentment. His patience was already paper-thin, and after recent events, it had only frayed further.

He had explained it to her once—the night they first met. Being Humanity’s Strongest had its perks. One of them was that he couldn’t care less what people whispered behind his back. But another was that very few had the guts to say anything to his face.

That had been true—until now.

For the past two months, the whispers hadn’t stopped. His name, her name, their relationship—it had all become the military’s favorite new topic.

She’s still unclaimed.

She comes and goes as she pleases.

Her scent isn’t his.

It smells like someone else.

The rumors even reached the higher-ups. The military board had questioned whether he was being “demanding enough.” His own soldiers whispered that he was too weak to keep his own mate in line.

For a long time, he had considered himself her only ally in all this. Perhaps she didn’t see it that way.

And maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t have minded enduring the scrutiny, the judgment, if he felt they were working toward something together. If he believed they were striving for mutual understanding.

But now?

Now, his instincts were livid.

‘Walking up to me, stinking of that brat.’

His inner alpha snarled. The same part of him that had allowed her freedom, that let her choose what she wanted from the kitchen, that had tolerated her sitting beside him during training—because she had willingly smelled like him once.

That same part of him was now furious.

Brat. That was all the younger, lesser alpha was to him. Barely past adulthood, and yet still bold enough to challenge him for her.

And she let him.

She had asked for freedom. He had given it. And in return, she had betrayed it. And now, openly, she was challenging him.

His rational mind should have focused on his duties. But instincts didn’t listen to logic. His alpha was restless, pacing like a caged lion, ready to lash out.

Somewhere, the distant part of him—the one that still functioned as a human rather than a territorial beast—whispered that he needed to sit her down and talk. Rationally. Like adults.

But that voice was distant. Faint. Like an echo in a dream that held no weight, no power.

Maybe this was why. Maybe it was the years without a mate. The ruts that came and went without relief. The absence of an Omega in his life.

And now?

For his body, a potential mate in the peak of her youth had waltzed into his territory, an he had provided for her. He had made space for her. He had given her security.

She had shown signs of choosing him.

And then, another alpha—younger, weaker, insignificant—had walked in, pissed on his territory, and acted like he had a rightful claim.

‘You’re one lucky bastard I don’t have you within arm’s reach.’

Alpha monogamy was a curse to some, a blessing to others.

To Levi, at this moment, it was nothing but a slow-burning rage.

Inside Levi’s chambers, the air was thick—not with tension, but something heavier. Something that sank into the skin, clung to the bones.  

Y/N sat on the window frame, perched like a defendant waiting for sentencing. Absentmindedly, she broke off a few crumbs of her bread, leaving them near the sparrow’s nest she had once drawn. The first bit of art she had created here. Now, it held three newborn pigeons, fragile and unaware of the world beyond their small sanctuary.  

She watched the courtyard with a slow, detached melancholy. The sheer number of soldiers outside was surprising—only a few years ago, the Scouts had never been this many. Her gaze trailed to the office, where Levi’s door swung open and shut like a revolving door. Soldiers came and went, carrying boxes, blueprints, stacks of reports.  

They moved freely.  

She hated it.  

Perhaps it was the way they carried themselves—so sure, so certain of what to take. Of what belonged to them. Perhaps it was the simple fact that they had a freedom she couldn’t even dream of.  

A scoff escaped her lips, bitter and quiet. Her forehead pressed against the glass, its cool surface slightly uncomfortable, probably leaving an oily smudge that Levi would notice. That would probably irritate him.  

But by the time he returned, this window—this entire room—would be nothing but a memory.  

She let the thoughts settle, accepted them even as they cut deep. She had ignored every warning sign, every uneasy shift in the air. Maybe a wiser woman would have noticed it sooner.  

A wiser woman—or a better wife?

Wives always knew, didn’t they? The old stories said so. They knew from a stain on a shirt, a change in scent, a hidden bank account.  

Would a better woman—a better mate—have realized that Levi had been planning this all along?  

What was I supposed to compare him to?

The Levi of the past two months was the only Levi she had ever known. There had been no “before” for her to measure against. No habits to track, no patterns to decipher.  

If he changed his scent, how could she be sure it wasn’t just preference?

If he came home late, wasn’t that just his duty?  

If he hid something, how would she even know where to look?  

If Levi had a secret account somewhere, she wouldn’t even know the name of the bank.

But just then, she remembered her last fiancé. A smile tugged at her lips — not one of joy, but of bitter amusement, as if laughing at herself.

‘Maybe I really am as foolish and naive as everyone says.’

Even all of Levi’s wisdom, she thought, might never have led her to any different conclusion.

‘I never thought I’d miss this place.’

Not this place exactly. She had packed quickly, but most of her belongings had remained untouched since the day she arrived. Nothing here had ever truly belonged to her. It all felt borrowed, like slipping into her mother’s heels as a child—too big, too foreign, an illusion of something she was supposed to grow into. Usually kids forget that dream by the time they grow old enough to fill them.

Except this time her mother had long since sold those shoes, and the dream had been lost with them. The dream had vanished before she could outgrow it.

She wouldn’t miss these chambers. What she would miss was the fragile hope that one day, she might have fit into them.  

And now, it was happening all over again.  

The same suitcases. The same hairstyle. The same clothes. The same long journey to yet another unknown destination.  

It was like reliving a nightmare she couldn’t outrun.  

A small bag of essentials sat at the base of the window, packed and ready for the trip. She hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, curled in on herself, knees to her chest, fingers gripping the letters from her siblings.  

‘I’m doing this for you.’

The words echoed in her mind, but the strength they were supposed to bring never came. 

Then, the door swung open.

The shift in sound was subtle, but enough to pull her out of her thoughts. Slowly, she turned.

Levi stepped inside, appearing distracted as he moved toward his belongings, intent on putting away the last of them before their departure. When their eyes met, he opened his mouth—only to close it again. He exhaled sharply through his nose, his expression unreadable.

He hated this. Hated being met with teary eyes and resignation. Anger, he could handle. Defiance, frustration, even hatred—those were easier. But this? This quiet, lifeless acceptance?

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke.  

“You done packing?”  

His voice was steady—too steady. The forced calm surprised even him. Avoiding the conflict was either intentional or instinctive. Addressing it would require emotions he didn’t have the time—or the willingness—to offer.  

Too angry to talk.  

Too tired to pretend.  

“Yes, sir.”  

The words made him freeze.  

For the first time in a long time, his body went completely still. A sharp, unbearable frustration clawed its way up his throat. For a moment, an absurd, childish urge consumed him—to throw himself on the floor, kick, scream, cry like a sleep-deprived toddler.

‘I wish I could just sit there, with watery eyes and expect the world to fix itself. But since I can’t—since I don’t—I'm the bad guy.

Fine. Whatever.’

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”  

Y/N slid off the windowsill, her feet meeting the ground. Levi moved around the room, checking everything—closing doors, locking windows, securing whatever was left behind.  

She stood in the middle of the office, watching him move, just as she had on the very first night.  

Curious eyes, like a kitten watching something it didn’t understand.  

Back then, she had stood in this same spot, watching as he rushed around, setting things up. Now, she watched as he dismantled it all.  

Hidden drawers she had never noticed before appeared as he pulled them open, retrieving money, keys, and even a gun. Small things, tucked away in places only he knew existed.  

The only sound breaking the quiet was the restless scratching of her cat in its carrier, desperate to be freed.  

Levi slung his pack over his shoulder, shutting the last of the windows. As the room fell into darkness, the finality of it settled deep in her chest.  

This was it.  

She bent down to grab her bag—but before her fingers could close around the strap, Levi’s hand shot out, gripping it first.  

“Give me that,” he said, hoisting up both her luggage and the pet carrier without waiting for an answer.  

She hesitated before moving toward the door, glancing back to see if he was following. He was—only pausing briefly to shut off the master valve in the bathroom.  

With a final patting at his pocket for the keys, he stepped out into the corridor and locked the door behind them.  

She stood there, waiting.  

It was an odd, familiar feeling. The uncertainty of standing in a hallway, waiting for someone to tell her where they were going.  

‘Like a pet.’

One that would develop an inexplicable fear of luggage.  

‘Or more like a dog,’ she corrected bitterly. ‘One whose only trick is to wait and follow.’  

As they moved through the halls, soldiers instinctively moved aside, pressing themselves flat against the walls as Levi passed. Some carried heavy crates, others stacks of paperwork, but the entire facility buzzed with urgency.  

Outside, the courtyard—once a training ground—had transformed into something else entirely. Carts. Horses. Boxes upon boxes of supplies waiting to be loaded. It was chaos. A military carnival.  

“Wait here,” Levi instructed before disappearing into the crowd.  

‘See? I just need a leash.’

The thought was sharp and cruel, cutting through her remaining pride like a dull blade.  

She watched the organized disorder unfold around her. Soldiers had direction, purpose. Even the ones running back and forth with last-minute additions knew where they were going.  

She did not.  

She was just standing there. Again. Watching life happen around her, but never to her.  

The comparison shifted from a cruel coincidence to an outright insult to her sanity. Levi had left—probably to retrieve the horses—and she was still here.

Just there.

It felt eerily familiar. Like standing on the chapel porch that day—only there was no chapel this time. No empty streets of a forgotten town. No rain.

Instead, the world had been replaced with this—a bustling military facility, an endless sea of strangers, the scorching heat of early summer or late spring (whichever name you preferred).

And this time, there was no blissful ignorance to shield her.

This time, she knew.

She knew that Levi would not—could not—suddenly pull a pretty house out of nowhere. That there was no hidden well of romance waiting to spill from him. That any unconfessed devotion was likely never there to begin with.

At least… that’s what she told herself.

A sharp voice cut through her thoughts.

“Wait—I’ll do it, just—UGH.”

A soldier dropped a box near a cart before rushing off to help someone else.

For a brief moment, Y/N’s eyes flickered with purpose. She glanced at the small package, then at her own luggage. Levi’s luggage.

“I can do that.”

The thought came easily, naturally. It wasn’t as if their belongings were unbearably heavy.

So she moved, loading what she could onto the wagon.

The small box was the last thing left. She reached for it—

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

The scream tore through the air. The shock snapped her out of her daze, and she looked around frantically for the source, nearly dropping the box in her hands. But the moment she realized the scream had been directed at her, she caught herself—tightening her grip just in time to keep it from falling. The soldier, startled, had instinctively reached out in fear, but now ran his hands through his hair, as if trying to comb away the surge of adrenaline.

“Don’t touch that!” he barked, nearly stumbling over himself as he rushed forward. “Those are—”

He snatched the box from her hands with practiced urgency, holding it as if it might bite.

“Thunder Spear munitions,” he hissed, setting it down with exaggerated care. “They’re primed and unstable—one drop and we’re all just a stain on the dirt, you get that?”

Y/N froze, hands mid-air, as if still holding the weight that was already gone. Her breath caught in her throat, and heat rushed to her cheeks—not from shame, but from something sharper, smaller, meaner. Like being scolded in front of a classroom full of strangers.

“I… I was just trying to help,” she said softly, but the words felt like paper in a storm. Insufficient. Drowned out.

The soldier scoffed, checking the box for damage with exaggerated flair.

“Yeah? Try helping by not getting us killed next time.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Clearly,” the soldier snapped. He glanced around with a sneer. “Where the hell is the Captain, anyway? Or is Levi just letting you wander around today?”

That one hit lower than the rest. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. The need to defend herself tangled with the guilt crawling up her spine. Searching for Levi around, as if she was a toddler painting someone’s wall. 

Footsteps behind her. Heavy. Sharp.

The soldier noticed before she did. His spine straightened. His mouth snapped shut.

Levi’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Who the fuck are you talking to like that?”

He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Despite the height difference, the other soldier averted his gaze and bowed his head in submission.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m sorry—sir, she—”

“She?” Levi snapped. “Who the hell leaves artillery unguarded in this fucking mess? That’s your job.”

His voice sliced through the tension, putting the soldier in check. The few onlookers who’d dared to glance over quickly looked away, pretending not to notice. No one wanted to be next.

“It won’t happen again, sir. I reacted badly, sir. It got the best of me—”

‘Sir,’ she added silently, noticing how the word clung to the man’s mouth like a nervous tic. She stayed quiet behind her husband, watching him take control. Even though the soldier was the one being scolded, the guilt still pressed heavy on her chest.

“I’ll get the best of me if I ever catch you talking to her like that again — you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

As if multitasking was a reflex, Levi’s eyes caught something near the cart to their left. In one swift motion, he moved over and snatched up the item she had mistakenly loaded. The way he grabbed it — firm, frustrated, controlled — made it clear: he didn’t want the other soldier to have the satisfaction of seeing her get reprimanded.

“When I tell you to do something, I expect you to follow it,” he muttered as she hurried to keep pace with him across the field.

“That wasn’t our cart. It’s this one.”

He tossed the belonging into the correct wagon.

“Get in. You’re riding here too.”

“I’m not riding?” she blinked, confused. From what she understood, the carts were meant to travel behind the formation — slower, delayed. For a second, panic surged through her. Was he really leaving her behind to ride with strangers and supplies?

“You don’t know how to drive it, and I’m not testing your endurance under the summer sun for hours,” Levi said flatly, doing something far too ordinary for his rank as he adjusted the loaded goods.

“You’re going with the groceries,” he added with a faint huff of air as he secured the final piece.

“I’m… not going with you?”

The fear in her voice made him freeze mid-motion. He looked back and frowned.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said bluntly, as if the answer should’ve been obvious.

She tensed, ready to protest — Alone? With them? Her heart began to race. She knew he was still angry, but—

“Of course you’re coming with me,” he added, as though any other possibility was absurd.

‘Maybe if your face gave anything away, I’d have known that,’ she thought, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She climbed into the cart, still unsettled. The wood creaked under her as she sat, eyes narrowed toward Levi as he adjusted a strap near the front.  

"You said the carts were leaving later," she said, testing the water.  

“They are,” he replied without looking up.  

“But we’re taking some now?”  

“Obviously.”  

"Then why are we leaving now?"

He didn’t look at her. "Some go early."

"Some?"

"Necessities."

She blinked, trying to put the pieces together. "So... the rest catch up?"

He gave a nod. Not a word — just that small, stiff movement.

She glanced around at the bundled supplies, the sacks, the wrapped crates. “How far are we going?”  

“Far.”  

She paused, unsatisfied. "Far like... how far?"

Levi's jaw tensed. "Far enough."

“That’s not an answer,” she muttered. “If we need groceries, this isn’t just a patrol, is it?”  

He stood and turned to her. “No.”  

Her brow furrowed. “Then what is it?”  

Silence.  

“Levi.”  

“Maybe.”  

“Maybe what?”  She folded her arms, lips pressing together. "You’re really committing to this one-word thing, huh?"

He exhaled through his nose, clearly deciding whether or not to humor her. “Maybe not a patrol.”  

“You’re exhausting,” she grumbled. “So… how long?”  

He looked at her. Really looked at her, dead eyes whispering ‘Drop it now,’. As he was far too busy for this almost toddler interrogatory.

“Three weeks.”  

Her mouth parted. “Three—”  

Her breath caught in her throat. Three weeks. On the road. She’d packed like they were going to camp out for a weekend, not half a month in motion.

Before she could respond, he tugged the last strap tight and stepped back from the cart.

“Wait at the cart.”  

“What?”  

He was already walking away, back straight, steps purposeful.  She blinked. "Wait, like—wait until when?"

“I mean it. Stay here,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t move.”  

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. He was already gone.

Reluctantly, she sank back into the cart. The curved arch of the roof offered more than just shelter for the food; it gave her a break from the blistering sun too.

“Shh, Clauwy. Behave,” she whispered, nudging the crate where the cat was kept. Sensing the sudden lull in motion, the feline let out a loud, annoyed meow and began rustling around in protest.

‘Three weeks?’ she thought, resting her head against the side of the cart. ‘We’re really going to the end of the world, aren’t we?’

"Knock knock."

The fake door knock made her peek out from behind a stack of crates.

Hange leaned casually over the edge of the cart, grinning. “Enjoying your suite? First class, huh?”

It coaxed a laugh from her, soft but genuine. “Commander.”

“Oh, please. It’s Hange,” they waved off with a dramatic roll of their eyes. “Here, scoot over. I brought you stuff.”

She half-crawled toward them — the roof too low to stand — and held out her cupped hands. Hange, still dressed in their full formal trench coat despite the sweltering heat, began unloading their pockets like a magician at a festival: chocolates, candies, gummies, tea bags — a strange but generous collection of comfort.

She blinked, surprised. “You brought all this… for me?”

“Of course. It’s going to be a long trip, and you’re going to need the calories,” Hange said matter-of-factly, still digging in their coat like a bottomless satchel.

A blush crept to her cheeks as she looked down at the pile of sweets in her hands. “Oh, um… I’m not expecting. Yet.”

Saying it aloud felt like pressing a finger to a bruise.

To her surprise, Hange burst into laughter — warm and unfiltered. “Please! Haha — of course you’re not! I do know how babies are made, you know.” They grinned. “And believe me, you'd be surprised how much Levi actually tells me.”

She flushed deeper. “But—why—?”

“Why am I bringing you snacks and tea like you’re already nesting?” Hange shrugged, smile softening. “Your body’s still adjusting — with the season change, the sudden travel, the stress. Hormones don’t wait for invitations. Eat a lot.”

They gave her a few affectionate pats on the arm and reached into the cart again. “Also brought you a pillow and some blankets. Once we’re past the walls, it might get cold at night.”

She moved aside to receive the bundle — the pillow softer than any military issue she’d touched, the blanket too gentle to be standard gear. “Thank you,” she murmured, touched. “You really didn’t have to—rearranging all this and—”

“Oh no,” Hange interrupted, waving their hand. “That wasn’t me! Levi’s the one who sorted the cart so you’d have space. The pillow and all that? Also from him. Most of those chocolates?” — they nodded to the pile in her lap — “He swiped them from the banquet at the Capital. I just saved them in my coat.”

They tapped the side of their nose playfully. “Don’t tell him I told you. He’s shyer than he looks.”

“Ah...” she didn’t blush this time — didn’t even smile at first. Just let her fingers brush the soft fabric of the blanket, her eyes drifting to the little wrapped chocolates. Most likely free offerings at one of the hangouts.

‘He really did all that?’

She exhaled a tiny, amused breath. “Alright,” she said softly, a smile blooming at the corner of her mouth. “I won’t.”

Hange leaned in closer, resting their arms on the cart’s edge so they were at eye level. Their grin faded slightly into something more sincere.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” she said quickly — too quickly — eager to help, or maybe just glad to be asked.

“Don’t disappear like that again, okay?”

And suddenly, it wasn’t a friendly favor anymore — it was a reckoning.

Her gaze dropped, fingers tightening around the edge of the pillow in her lap. Her spine straightened instinctively, posture stiffening the way it had back when authority meant punishment.

“Yes, Commander,” she said quietly, the words shaped by shame more than obedience.

Hange sighed. Not impatient — but as someone tired of watching two people tiptoe around their own hearts.

“That’s not what I meant,” they said, softer now but still steady. “I’m not giving you a demerit.”

Still, she couldn’t look at them. Not yet. She straightened a little, spine going stiff — as if she were standing at attention rather than sitting in a hay-lined cart. “It won’t happen again,” she said quickly, automatically. Her tone clipped, formal — the way a soldier would answer a reprimand.

But Hange didn’t smile. Not this time.

“You know…” they started, still casual in posture, but there was something in their voice — a line tightening. “Levi was very worried.”

Her gaze dropped. She didn’t say anything.

“I know why you left,” Hange continued. “And honestly? I don’t even blame you. It’s a lot. Everything’s a lot right now.” Their tone remained quiet, “But next time, let him know where you’re going, alright?”

She swallowed, her fingers fidgeting with a corner of the blanket.

“And I would appreciate,” Hange continued, with a pointed raise of their brows, “if you didn’t make my best soldier that stressed again.”

There was a pause. Just enough for her to feel the weight of it.

Then Hange softened — just a little. The teasing spark in their eye faded, replaced with something quieter. “He’s not just my subordinate, you know. He’s my friend.”

The words landed with surprising gentleness. “I don’t like seeing him like that.”

She looked up, startled by how sincere the words were.

Hange gave her a small shrug, as if trying to lighten the mood but not quite managing to push the emotion aside. “Levi’s not a bad man. He may be... emotionally constipated, sure. Grumpy as hell. But if you want something — and if it’s even remotely within his power — he’ll do it.”

They tilted their head, smirking faintly. “He’ll complain the whole time, because that’s who he is. But he’ll still do it.”

She couldn’t help the small smile that slipped through.

“He’s not that type of man,” Hange said firmly. “He’s not out to control you. Or trap you. Or make you smaller than you are.”

Her breath hitched at that last part. Something in her chest loosened — and hurt — all at once.

"Shorty would rather skip the two hours of sleep he gets to take you wherever you want to go and make sure you’re safe, than forbid you from doing something," Hange said. "So… next time, just ask him. Alright?"

Silence lingered for a moment between them, warm and heavy like the air before a summer storm.

“...Okay?” Hange added, as if not sure whether to break the weight of it or not.

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

”ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” The brunette gave a few loud strong pats on the omega’s upper arms making her open her eyes open up in shock. “I’m glad we could set this straight! I leave you to settle in!”

Shaken slightly by the motion of the gesture, she chuckled to herself. Just for a second, it all felt a little less heavy — a tiny reprieve from the unresolved tension still pressing on her chest.

She waited. Longer than she expected. But eventually, the telltale sounds of horses shifting and soldiers mounting echoed through the camp. The Scouts were moving. Through the crowds, she began to pick out the figures of the Special Ops squad preparing to lead.

“Y/N!” Sasha’s voice startled her as the girl ran up to the cart, bright-eyed and already energetic. “Since you’ll be in the cart... share your snacks with me?” she asked with a hopeful grin.

“Don’t give her food,” Eren interrupted flatly, walking past with his hands in his pockets. “It’s a trap.”

The titan shifter barely looked interested but somehow still managed to side with the omega.

“No! Don’t listen to them, Y/N!” Sasha cried in protest.

“Did you bring the baby?” Mikasa leaned into the cart, scanning for signs of movement. Her face fell slightly when she saw no sign of the cat.

“Clauws? He’s in his carrier for now,” Y/N replied. “At least until we’re on the road. Maybe you can give him a walk if we stop somewhere.”

That thought made Mikasa light up immediately.

“What are you all doing here?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Jean puffed out his chest, dramatically smoothing his hair with one hand. “I’ll be your driver on this fine journey,” he said, adopting a terrible imitation of a Mitras nobleman. “At your service, m’lady.”

She laughed. “Thank you, Jean. You’re a sunshine.”

“Heh—thank you, thank you,” he said, bowing slightly as if awaiting applause.

Connie and Armin watched him with secondhand embarrassment, as the two male betas of the team. ‘We can see his tail wagging’, they both thought silently.

“Are you excited, Y/N?” Armin asked, shifting the focus with his usual calmness.

Her smile faltered. The tension returned, creeping in under her skin. She turned toward him slowly. “Huh?”

“You’ll be the first civilian to see the ocean!” Armin explained, visibly thrilled. It seemed like he was more excited about it than she was. Maybe because he’d been dreaming of it for years. “It’s the largest body of water in the world. And it’s salty!”

She blinked. “Salty?”

“Yes! And the fish are incredible!” Sasha added, clearly impressed with her own contribution.

“The sea snails are pretty too,” Mikasa chimed in softly.

“They’re called seashells,” Armin corrected kindly, unable to help himself. “You’ll love it, Y/N. It’s breathtaking.”

She nodded slowly, trying to absorb all the information. It still didn’t feel real.

“The animals outside the walls are huge,” Sasha added. “The deer, the bears—they’re way bigger than what we’re used to.”

“Big?” Her stomach dropped slightly. “Like... how big?”

“Oh, nothing compared to titans,” Connie jumped in quickly. “You might find a few old footprints, buried deep in the ground—but no worries. The wild makes everything feel tiny by comparison.”

The excitement turned into unease. Her expression shifted.

“Wait... how far are we going from the walls?” she asked, anxiety creeping into her voice. “I thought we were only going a few meters out.”

Jean laughed. “No, silly! We’re going all the way to the coast. End of the island. We’ll be there for the rest of the year!”

Mikasa’s eyes widened as she realized the others might be saying too much. She started signaling them from behind Y/N’s back—but it was too late.

“We’re building a port and a railway line,” Armin added eagerly. “It’s part of the coastal expansion. Once the ships start arriving from overseas, we’ll have a chance to negotiate with them, explain our intentions—”

“What?” she asked, stunned. “And... What about titans?”

“We eliminated them all,” Mikasa cut in quickly.

But Armin and Jean chuckled, clearly confused by the panic in her voice.

“I mean, yeah,” Jean said. “But some might come from Marley, so you never really—OW!”

Mikasa pinched his side sharply, twisting the skin through his jacket.

“No titans,” she said flatly.

“None. Whatever you say, Mika,” Jean gasped, rubbing his ribs. “Message received.”

The rest nodded awkwardly, pasting bright smiles on their faces.

“Yep! Not even one!” Connie agreed quickly.

“What do we do?” he whispered to Jean as Y/N’s face twisted into a mixture of fear and shock.

“Wait... so we’re not coming back? For a year? GUYS?!”

Before anyone could say more, Levi’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Everyone to your places. We’re leaving.”

The cadets scattered immediately, disappearing like guilty roaches. Levi, unaware of what had just unfolded, approached the cart with calm exhaustion in his posture.

“Come on,” he said, voice quieter now. “Get in.”

But she didn’t move. Instead, she stepped down and approached him.

“Levi, please,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go. Not for that long.”

He sighed loudly. “We talked about this. It’s final.”

“Please, Lev—” She gripped his arm, trying to meet his eyes. “Please.”

He froze. His whole body went stiff. He hated this — public attention, the eyes shifting toward them, watching. Her watery eyes, the pleading voice, the touch — all of it made him feel exposed, vulnerable, off balance. “Don’t do this in public,” he muttered. “I already told you — it’s decided. Don’t beg me.”

He placed his hands on her upper arms and gently pushed her back, forcing her to release him. “Don’t make this harder.”

“Levi—” she tried again.

But the pressure was too much. His already-fraying nerves, the constant watchful eyes — it tipped him over the edge.

“Enough, Y/N. Get in the cart.”

There was no softness in the words. Just steel.

The cadets, now a few meters off, watched in silence.

“We fucked up,” Armin whispered.

“Great,” Sasha muttered, “They’re divorcing. We’ll be motherless again.”

“You have a mom,” Jean replied dryly.

“Yeah, but she’s sick of my ass.”

“I wonder why,” Connie added.

“She can’t divorce,” Eren said flatly. “It’s not even legal.”

Legal or not — wanted or not — the formation began to move. Levi and Hange led at the front, just like always.

“What’s the matter now? You two are fighting… AGAIN?” Hange emphasized the word as if the couple’s inability to make it work was taking a toll not just on them but on the general public. Like two parents who refused to let it go, their constant bickering only produced more harm than they believed splitting up would.

The brunette was nearly exasperated—they thought they’d taken a step forward on the Captain’s behalf by giving the girl the items Levi had gathered during the weekend meeting. They’d seen him stuffing everything that was offered for free into his pockets, and when they asked why, Levi’s response had been a mix of muttered excuses—tinged with irritation, pettiness, resignation, and just a bit of shame. The look on his face as he picked things up, claiming he’d give them to her once he got back to the hotel, said it all: “Yeah, I said something bitchy—true, but bitchy—and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Of course, her sudden disappearance—and everything that followed—left the improvised apology gift completely forgotten. Hange had thought they could smooth things over in his favor with the gesture, only to realize their attempt at a single step forward had somehow become three steps back.

”Fuck me,” they muttered exhausted.

Levi, exasperated but in a rush, kept walking, pushing soldiers aside as he slipped through the crowd. “She thinks this is a matter of begging me!”

Hange did their best to keep up with the short man—who, despite his lack of height, was mighty even for brisk walks. “She thinks I’m enjoying this bullshit, that if she keeps begging, I’ll eventually give in!”

“Well—Oops, sorry,” the commander interrupted whatever half-hearted, empty advice they had been trying to come up with, their social obligation as the Captain’s friend momentarily overtaken by nearly colliding with a cadet carrying Thunder Spears.

“I’m not doing this on purpose! It’s not like I’m holding back what she wants just for the sake of it, as if it’s some sick power play. She keeps begging me, like that’s all it takes, like I’m refusing just to be an ass. I don’t enjoy hearing her beg—”

Levi stopped abruptly—not just walking but talking, frowning deeply.

“I’m listening,” Hange affirmed, as if the short man had stopped for lack of feedback.

“Yeah, I know. I just never thought I’d say that about a woman.”

The commander closed their eye and scoffed a chuckle. “You for real? That’s what’s throwing you off in all this?”

“Give me a break,” the Captain said before cursing under his breath. “It’s like hearing Erwin say he doesn’t like being seen as a paternal figure or some shit. Goes against every single fucking kink I’ve ever mentioned before.”

As they walked out to take their place in the formation at the front, Levi somehow picked up the conversation without needing a cue.

“I told you to tell her beforehand,” Hange said, adjusting the strap on their horse.

“I was planning on it,” Levi snapped, yanking his own strap tight. Their faces barely visible over the saddle as they moved, but their tone carried. “I was planning to tell her everything in detail—until she decided to lie to me and disappear for hours with another man!”

“That’s exactly why I told you to tell her sooner!” Hange repeated, echoing words they’d said nights ago. “She’s confused.”

“She’s confused?” Levi scoffed. “Imagine how confused I was, finding out she lied about where she was.”

“You lied too.”

“I didn’t lie. I… avoided certain parts of the truth.”

Hange rolled their eyes so loudly, it was almost audible. “You’re sounding so much like Erwin right now.”

“Don’t bring Eyebrows into this,” Levi muttered, as if the comparison alone—especially in anything remotely romantic—was a mortal insult.

He said something under his breath, but it was completely unintelligible.

“What?” Hange asked, leaning over their horse’s neck with a squint. “I can’t hear you when you grumble like a sewer rat.”

Levi repeated it. The exact same way.

“Stop grumbling and just say it, dammit.”

Finally, after one last gritted attempt, the sentence came out clearly. Hange’s eyes (if they’d had two) would’ve gone wide.

“You didn’t hug her back?!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Levi shot back, climbing onto his horse in one swift motion.

“HUG HER?!” Hange nearly screamed, following suit and swinging onto their own. “WHY the hell did you push her away?!”

“Because it’s hard for me, alright?!” His voice cracked under the weight. “For fuck’s sake—it’s hard. I felt everyone looking at me and I couldn’t — I just fucking couldn’t, okay?”

Hange threw their hands to their face in mock-sobbed despair. “How did a man like you manage to get married with these social skills?!” They asked, sarcasm layered thick. It was meant to tease—one of their usual back-and-forths, laced with roasting affection.

But Levi didn’t fire back. This time he didn’t give a smartass reply, rolled his eyes or doubled the bet.

Instead, he gripped the reins so tightly that the leather creaked under the pressure.

“Because they forced me into this,” he muttered, and for once his voice wasn’t sharp. It was bitter. Broken. “You think I don’t know I suck at this? That maybe I’m aware I don’t have the time or the emotional availability to give?”

Hange went still. That pulled the humor out of the air.

But inside the moment, everything quieted.

“I know I’m fucking it up,” Levi continued, voice low but trembling with restrained fury. “Everyone and their damn mothers keep reminding me. But I’m trying. I’ve been trying since I stepped into that chapel and waited there for hours.” His jaw clenched. “I know it’s shit. But this—” he looked away, swallowing hard— “this is me trying.”

He let out a low, guttural curse. “Fuck.”

The field fell into a quiet so stark it was almost unnatural — the kind of silence that is deafening. The grass rustled. Hooves thudded softly against earth. Somewhere, cicadas droned in the heat.

But all she could hear was Levi’s ragged breathing, uneven and fast, slowly evening out as the fire inside him cooled to ash.

Ashamed, he looked away — not from Hange, but from himself. As if just saying it out loud made it all worse.

But maybe… maybe it didn’t.

Maybe it was the first right thing he’d done.

Hange, who knew all too well what it felt like to be forced into shoes they never asked to wear, finally said, quietly:

“I know.” Just that.

They reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder—firm, grounding, comforting.

“I know,” they repeated.

One deep breath. Then the formation began to move.

At first, the journey was rough. Every part of the cart rattled and shook with intensity as they made their way through the forest, crawling slowly along narrow, uneven paths. The terrain forced the convoy to a near crawl.

Eventually, the structure of the Scouts’ facility disappeared behind them — the same way it had once emerged from the fog during a spring rain. Now, it vanished into the trees with no fanfare.

She remained inside the cart, tucked away in its protective shell. There wasn’t much to hear aside from the rhythmic rustling of wheels grinding over dirt. Then, finally, they broke through the forest and onto a wide, open road.

With most of the road ahead now paved or packed smooth, she opened Clauw’s carrier and let the cat out. Still, she clipped on his harness and leash — just in case. Tight as it was around his furry frame, it didn’t alter his appearance much. Clauw was long-haired and thick underneath — he had never skipped a meal in his life, and it showed.

Despite his newfound freedom, he curled into her arms and stayed there. Maybe because he was old now. Maybe because, for all his size, Clauw had always been a timid cat. He seemed used to traveling — a product of having been dragged with her everywhere since childhood. Their bond had only deepened with time, and his presence calmed her more than she’d realized.

She bent down and kissed the side of his face. He purred in her lap, and she clung to him like an anchor — something steady in all this unfamiliar motion.

Peeking out from the cart occasionally, she began to recognize the route. They were taking the Trost road — the same path described in old newspaper clippings about the retaking of Wall Maria. First Trost, then the elevators leading up to the restored gates.

“Y/N!”

Jean’s voice called out from the front seat, where he’d been driving. “Come on out! We’re about to pass through the only Wall of the trip. It’ll be fun!”

At first, she ignored him. But then, with a sigh, she changed her mind and crawled out to take the seat beside him.

Jean greeted her with an exaggerated grin. She couldn’t help but chuckle.

As a child, passing through the walls had always thrilled her. They broke the monotony of endless countryside views and the mindless rounds of I Spy — back when the entire world outside the window was just varying shades of wheat-gold ochre.

Now, the strong wind funneled by the tunnel blasted against her face. She instinctively held her head and her dress down as they passed beneath the towering gate. She squinted up, just catching a glimpse of the battlements — and then they were through.

The town of Trost greeted them with crowds. People clapped and cheered, shouting wishes for safety and luck. The formation slowed at the checkpoint, where the sealed gates loomed tall and final, the sun already sinking.

To her surprise — or perhaps not — children ran through the streets chasing after the wagons, hoping to catch a glimpse of the infamous figures in the lead.

“Captain Levi!” they called. His name echoed with Hange’s and Eren’s, cheers overlapping into one noise.

She noted, unimpressed, the way young women in the crowd blushed and swooned. Her brow arched. ‘From far away, he’s a masterpiece. Up close? Monet.’

As they approached the front gate, the formation halted.

“Are we stopping for the night?” she asked, climbing down to stretch her legs. Jean hopped down too.

“Nope,” he replied. “We’re pushing through. Gonna ride straight through the night and reach Shiganshina by tomorrow afternoon.”

She frowned. “All day? Isn’t that exhausting?”

Jean shrugged like it was obvious. “We’re soldiers. If we can’t pull one all-nighter, we’re in the wrong profession.”

The rest of the squad gathered nearby. Mikasa approached with hopeful eyes.

“Want to let him walk a bit?” she asked gently, already reaching for the cat.

“Please. Thank you,” Y/N murmured, handing Clauw over. The relief on her face was subtle but present.

“Y/N,” Levi’s voice cut through from ahead.

He was a few paces forward, hand extended, arm out — waiting for her.

She took a steadying breath and followed.

“Riko will show you the garrison’s girl restroom so you can freshen up,” he said, barely glancing back. “I’ll bring something for dinner.”

“But...” she glanced around the formation. “What about the rest of you?”

“We’re working.”

“And food?”

“We’ll eat crackers on the move. Just go with Riko.”

His words left no room for negotiation. The grey-haired soldier appeared beside her, already ready to escort.

She nodded and followed.

After washing up with cold water and wiping herself down with a damp cloth, she emerged to find Levi waiting, arms crossed. Without a word, he handed her a wrapped pair of jam-and-cheese sandwiches and a water flask.

She blinked in surprise but accepted them.

The rest of the journey blurred. The sight of Wall Maria — long since restored — was haunting. She’d been old enough to remember its fall and now, seeing it again, there was something almost sacred about it. The ruins that remained felt ancient. Ivy clung to shattered buildings. Window frames sat empty. Still, people worked in the fields nearby, greeting the formation with quiet gratitude.

Compared to Trost, there was a peacefulness here. A kind of countryside calm that felt stolen from a dream.

She stayed awake into the night. Not tired, not hungry — not really anything. Just empty. The summer air was lukewarm, not cool enough to need a sweater, not warm enough to bring comfort.

She shared one sandwich with Sasha and nibbled on the other. It was tasteless, but she forced herself to eat. Eventually, she curled back into the cart — but sleep never really came. Everything woke her: the scratchy blanket, the movement of the wheels, the constant voices outside, the birds, the owls, the night insects.

By the time they reached the next sealed gate, dawn bleeding into the sky, something shifted inside her.

She looked back, trying to see the walls they’d left behind.

But Wall Maria was gone.

Just like that.

Swallowed by distance.

And then the thought came — plain, quiet, terrifying in its honesty:

‘That’s how far I am from home.’

As soon as the realization hit her, it became undeniable—unstoppable. Her chest tightened, her hands trembled. The broken gate had been sealed by Eren’s titan form, and the formation was now being lifted to the top of the walls, preparing to descend on the other side. The very same elevators that had brought them up would now take them down into the unknown.

For the first time in her life, she was seeing beyond the walls.

Fear struck hard.

‘Don’t look down,’ she told herself.

But, of course, she did.

Her breath hitched as she took in the staggering drop from the top of the wall to the endless stretch of grass below. The sheer height made her stomach twist.

And speaking of colossal things—her mind, in a cruel act of betrayal, reminded her of all the horrifying stories she’d grown up with. The monsters beyond the walls. The titans. Every worst-case scenario she’d ever been taught came rushing to the forefront of her thoughts.

Instinct took over. In a blind scramble for safety, she backed into the elevator shaft, clutching her cat against her chest like a lifeline and gripping the column beside her as if it were the only thing keeping her from plummeting into the abyss.

Armin, always perceptive, noticed immediately and approached with concern.

“Y/N… are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I just need some fresh air,” she said quickly. But her wide eyes, clenched teeth, and bone-white knuckles gripping the metal told a different story.

Like ducklings following their leader, the rest of the squad trailed after Armin, equally curious and confused.

“Fresh air?” Jean muttered, frowning. “On top of the walls?”

You could practically hear the collective thought process: ‘There’s no place with more air than fifty meters above the ground, standing on the last wall of Paradis.’

Mikasa knelt beside her, eyes scanning her carefully. “Are you dizzy? Is your blood pressure dropping?” she asked, noting how Y/N was slowly sinking to the ground.

Between ragged breaths, Y/N choked out, “I can’t go out there… I’m not going out there.”

Sasha’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh! You’re scared! But there’s nothing to worry about! We’ve been in Levi’s squad for a while now!”

Connie nodded enthusiastically. “The Special Operations Squad! Nobody better than us!”

Y/N looked up at them, still unconvinced. Armin added, “We’ve been serving under Captain Levi for nearly two years. You’re safe with us.”

She hesitated, frowning. Something about that number didn’t sit right. “Two years?” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “What happened to the last squad?”

The air shifted.

The six teenagers exchanged glances.

“Uh…”

“Ehm…”

Mikasa, deciding it was time to intervene, stepped forward, smoothly pushing Armin aside as if shielding Y/N from whatever dumb thing he might accidentally say next.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” she assured her with quiet confidence. “Captain Levi and I are the strongest. If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”

It was meant to be reassuring. But it had the exact opposite effect.

Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm. “So… there’s a chance something will happen?!”

—

“Captain…”

Levi turned, still mid-discussion over last-minute battle plans when Mikasa’s voice interrupted.

“What?” He frowned, hands on his hips. Whatever it was, it had better be important.

Mikasa hesitated, glancing toward the elevator. “We think you should check on Y/N.”

—

“I’M NOT GOING.”

Y/N clung to the elevator’s frame like her life depended on it, legs locked, refusing to step foot outside.

Levi stood beside her, “I told you, you need to come with us,” he repeated, voice low and firm.

“NO.” She shook her head wildly, gripping the metal tighter. “I don’t want to die!”

Levi exhaled sharply, trying to keep his patience. “I already told you, there are no more titans. I wouldn’t take you out if there were.”

“How do you know?! Have you even looked outside?! IT’S HUGE OUT THERE!”

Levi stared at her, deadpan.

He had spent more time outside the walls than inside them. And yet here she was, explaining it to him.

His pride crumbled. His instincts as an alpha did, too. Only adding to the recent events.

His inner alpha bristled slightly at the scent of her fear. It stung his pride—not just as a soldier, but as a mate. Alphas were supposed to be a source of security, a symbol of strength. Omegas chose alphas based on their ability to protect them and their offspring. Normally, his reputation alone was enough to reassure anyone, let alone his own wife.

Yet here she was, outright terrified, and his presence wasn’t helping at all. But right now, standing beside his mate, all he could smell was her fear.

It was a blow to his pride.

“Y/N,” he said, this time searching for any grain of patience, love and support inside him. His voice sounded almost soft and calm. “I wouldn’t take you if it wasn’t safe.” His tone was measured, steady. If she was his, then she needed to trust him. “Don’t you trust me?”

Without hesitation—without even thinking—she blurted out:

“NO.”

Silence.

Dead. Absolute silence.

Hange, who had wandered over to investigate, let out a wheezing laugh so intense they had to clutch their stomach.

Levi, meanwhile, just stared.

A sharp "Tch—" escaped him as he scratched the back of his head, trying to mask the sting. Ouch.

Hange, still gasping for breath, spread their arms dramatically. “Ah, no worries, my dear! Your fear is simply due to the unknown! That’s perfectly natural! But have no fear—I’ll teach you everything about titans, and I will keep you safe!”

As if spring had just arrived and they were a pair of rutting bucks trying to prove themselves, both alphas now stood in front of her. There was an unspoken challenge in the air. Two alphas—Hange and Levi—instinctively competing to reassure the terrified omega. A display of dominance in its most ridiculous form.

Y/N blinked. Then, in the flattest, most unimpressed tone imaginable, she deadpanned: “How are you gonna keep me safe? You can’t even spot titans—you’re missing an eye.”

Hange’s proud smile froze. Their face fell into an expression of sheer offense and heartbreak.

Levi choked on a laugh. He tried to hide it—tried so damn hard—but his shoulders shook, and a muffled snort escaped before he could stop it.

“Don’t laugh, you asshole,” Hange hissed at him, glaring.

The three alphas—Levi, Hange, and Mikasa—stood together, momentarily humbled. If this were the animal kingdom, they had just been denied their mating rights.

“She’s in shock…” Hange sighed, observing the omega’s state. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her face drained of color despite the summer heat, and her translucent eyes darted around in panic.

“Tch. Let’s just get this over with.” Levi’s voice was monotone, unreadable, his plans undisclosed.

The girl’s grip tightened where she sat, her head shaking in frantic denial. Just as Levi shifted slightly, Armin stepped forward, planting himself between them with his arms stretched wide.

“Give her some air!” he urged, casting a firm glance at Levi before turning to the trembling omega. “I’ll handle it. Let me talk to her.”

To everyone’s surprise, Levi didn’t argue. He simply muttered, “Alright,” and walked away.

That threw Armin off. He had expected resistance—some insistence that Levi knew best how to deal with the situation. But the Captain left without a fight, leaving Armin no time to dwell on it. Instead, he turned back to the girl and knelt beside her.

“I’m NOT going!” she cried, her voice raw with fear.

Armin placed a gentle hand on her back, his tone soothing. “It’s okay. No one’s going to force you. I just want to keep you company.” He paused, studying her trembling form. “Would it help if I talked? Maybe something to help you breathe through this?”

She gave a hesitant nod.

While Armin searched for the right words to comfort her, Levi continued on, ignoring Mikasa as she trailed after him.

“You’re seriously not going to do anything?!” she snapped, as if Y/N were her own mate in distress.

Levi, accustomed to the cadet’s insubordination, didn’t even spare her a glance. He crouched by his belongings, retrieved a thermos, and poured steaming tea into the lid, which doubled as a cup. Then, from a small travel pouch, he scooped in sugar. More than a few spoonfuls.

Mikasa grimaced at the excessive amount. “Ugh.”

Meanwhile, Armin kept speaking. “You know… I froze in shock too. Back in Trost, during my first real battle.” His voice was calm, almost nostalgic.

She blinked, still breathing unevenly. “Really?”

Armin chuckled softly. “Yeah. Some soldier I was, huh?” He shook his head, offering her a small smile. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not going,” she repeated, though her voice wavered. “I want—”

Her lips parted slightly, the hint of a response forming before Levi interrupted, pressing the makeshift teacup into her trembling hands.

She blinked at it, then at him. "What—what is this?" she asked, her voice shaking almost as much as her hands. She looked utterly confused, and Armin, just as baffled, shot Levi a questioning glance.

"Drink," Levi instructed flatly.

Hesitantly, she brought it to her lips and took a small sip—only to immediately grimace, pulling away in disgust. "Ugh! It's sweet. Even for me."

"Good. It'll keep you from fainting," Levi said, crossing his arms as if that settled it.

Armin caught on first. It wasn’t just tea—it was a calculated act of reassurance, a way to ground her and replenish her sugar levels after the shock. Levi was helping in his own way. Armin nodded, subtly encouraging her to drink. Levi, satisfied that his job was done, turned away and resumed his duties.

Minutes passed. The soldiers began to hurry as the descent was imminent. Armin continued talking, filling the space with calm words. “The sea is beautiful, and—” He trailed off, noticing the familiar tension creeping back into her frame. Her breathing swallowed again.

“It’s alright,” he assured. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if you’re not ready, I’m sure everyone will underst— Wait, are you okay?”

She hunched forward suddenly, making Armin’s stomach drop.

“I just… feel really tired…” she mumbled.

Armin exhaled in relief. “That’s from the hyperventilation. You’re finally calming down—”

She had started to slump forward.

Alarmed, Armin reached for her, only to watch as Levi reappeared out of nowhere, catching her effortlessly before she could hit the ground. Her head lolled against his stomach, motionless.

Panic surged through Armin. "Levi—?! Should we—"

Levi, calm as ever, merely shifted her weight with practiced ease. Placing his hands under her arms, he hoisted her up, adjusting her against his chest. One hand supported her back while the other slid beneath her legs, holding her as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Problem solved," Levi declared smoothly, his tone entirely too casual for the situation.

Still carrying her effortlessly in one arm, he reached down, grabbed a small cat that had been loitering nearby, and plopped it over her back.. The cat barely protested, curling into her limp form.

"You too, little shit," Levi muttered at the feline, then turned on his heel, striding toward the designated departure zone.

Armin could only gape. "What—what did you do?!”

Levi didn’t even look back. “Gave her what we give soldiers when they’re severely wounded.” He shrugged. “By the time she wakes up, we’ll be too far for her to freak out.”

It was quite the sight, though the rest found it obvious. Levi, walking around with her perched against his chest as if she weighed nothing—settled along one of his forearms—grabbing his own equipment and barking orders, all while balancing her and the cat on his left arm. He took his place to descend on the elevators, each gust of air that hit them making him scoff and grimace in pure disdain.

Every single time the strong wind swept across their faces—which, considering they were fifty meters above ground, was rather frequent—he caught the stench. The lingering scent clinging to her like a brand, a reminder of his failure. She being asleep, unable to find peace because he hadn’t been able to give it to her. His incapacity to speak the truth. Her scent muddled with someone else’s. Having her so close—her neck right beside his face—was torture.

‘This is stupid,’ he thought sharply. ‘Wasting brain space on this.’

But when he finally stepped into the cart to let her rest, he paused. He glanced behind him, as if someone might’ve followed, then let the intrusive thought win. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he bent down and pressed his neck against the curve of hers, rubbing it quickly —first one side, then the other.

Then her wrists a bit too on both of his neck sides. Brushed them against his skin, just lightly. The places where pheromones lived most strongly.

One last sniff to her hair. A deep inhale.

His scent, now faintly tangled with hers, made something primal inside him settle.

His alpha—restless and bitter just moments ago—nearly purred with satisfaction.

The sensation made Levi want to crawl out of his own skin.

One part of him screamed victory, as though he had just reclaimed something sacred. The other part wanted to grab a mirror, look himself dead in the eye with a judgmental glare, and growl, “Why are you like this?”

Still, he did what he could to make her comfortable. He laid her down gently, adjusting the pillow beneath her head, and pulled a blanket over her sleeping form.

Then, without a word, he turned away and disappeared back into the chaos of duty.

—

‘The patent leather shoes as I jumped the rope, my muddy, stained knees, bruised as I ran through the park. Most of my friends and I would sprint down the streets after being picked up from the girls-only school, racing to see the displays in the fancy wedding dress store, to admire the new designs.

We were wealthy enough for my mother to take offense at the idea of my sisters and me learning how to cook, but not enough to afford private tutors. There was a time I was truly free, saving all my dreams inside the rooms of my dollhouse.

Little by little, I started to grow up, and my freedom disappeared—like the soap bubbles I used to pop in the backyard.

All children born of a traditional Alpha-Omega couple were born with three possibilities. There was always a chance the daughter would present as an Alpha too. A Beta child would be considered a disappointment—destined for the working class.

There was a time I stood a chance.

But little by little, without even realizing it at first, I was told not to run like a savage. That girls like me didn’t do that. That we didn’t ride horses, or climb monkey bars. But what never changed was the thrill of rushing with my friends to see the dresses. One day, it would be our turn. Each of us would have our own design, ones we used to draw in crayon on scrap paper. Mine were always the most praised.

Little by little, I forgot I was allowed to have bruised knees. Forgot I used to outrun my cousins. I began to shrink into the mold, just as the ruffles on my dream dress were ironed stiff into place.

The dress I tried on—the one that made my mother cry tears of joy—made me feel so pretty that I forgot I had ever wanted anything else.’

“Do what he tells you, alright? No sass-mouthing, Y/N,” her mother said, fingers weaving through her hair in the dim morning light.

The cart was already waiting at the front.

“Alright,” she replied, lifeless.

“And try to smile. A happy wife makes a happy husband.”

“Alright.”

“Show interest in what he does... but not too much. When they come home from work, they sometimes want peace and quiet.”

Her mother secured the final braid, her voice soft and far away. Her hands, though warm, moved over Y/N’s arms with a kind of absent care. “...How will I know?” Y/N turned slightly, glancing at her over her shoulder.

“You’ll learn, with time,” her mother whispered. “Learn what he likes, what he doesn’t. He’ll show you when you make a mistake. And you’ll learn.”

“Mom… I don’t want this.” Her voice cracked into a sob. “I’m scared.”

Her mother hugged her then—still her child, no matter how old. Kissed her face gently. “As your mother, it’s my duty to tell you: we don’t get to choose where we live. We live where they let us.”

‘I always thought it would be easy for me. That this was my place, and I’d learned it well. That this was my role by nature.

But if this is my place by nature... why did I have to be forced into it?’

The memories twisted, blended, folded in on themselves. She ran—ran in her little patent leather shoes down the street. Her friends ran ahead, laughing. But she couldn’t catch them. They had already grown out of her reach.

When she woke, she was sobbing.

Disoriented, she scanned her surroundings, panic swelling in her chest. She crawled out from the blankets, her body sluggish with sleep, and found herself in what looked like a campsite. A few tents around her. The sky glowed faintly—dawn was near. Trees towered all around, thick and tall, enclosing the clearing like ancient sentinels.

She turned in circles, barefoot, heart racing. Until she collided into something solid.

“Calm down. It’s all safe,” Levi muttered, standing in front of her. His hands hovered just over her arms, not touching—but close.

Her panic curdled into something hotter. Her eyes widened, her breath coming fast and sharp—and then the fear became anger.

“What did you do?!” she screamed, fists pounding weakly against his chest. “I told you I didn’t want to come! I told you!”

He didn’t stop her. The impacts were small. Harmless.

“There’s nothing out here. See?” he said quietly, like he was trying to reason with her. “You just needed to rest.”

“I’m not a kid! Don’t put me to sleep like one!” she shouted, her translucent eyes turning toward what she guessed must be north.

And there—where walls had once loomed—was nothing.

Kilometers and kilometers of nothing.

He thought the outburst was just anger — fear of being there, maybe. But for her, it was the collapse of everything she had ever known.

Her mind resisted the truth for even a second, but the cruel thought of having to stand this — this nothingness — for an entire year, tore her apart.

“No, no, no,” she repeated in raw denial, sobbing messily as the weight of it all crushed her.

The cries confused him. Finally, Levi gripped her arms — gently, with no real strength — as if trying to shake her out of the shock.

“It’s not the end of the world, brat. Come on,” he muttered, exhausted.

To him, it felt like watching a toddler refuse to go to kindergarten.

But as her emotional state didn’t seem to improve — not with anything he said, or did, or tried — Levi grew helpless.

No one likes watching someone cry like that. There’s no comfort to offer. No quick fix for despair. Just one salty stream after another.

“Don’t cry like that, damn it. No one died. It’s all fine,” he said. “You’ll like it. They’re building houses and all that shit. There’s nothing out here to be scared of anymore.”

But titans were the last of her worries.

And Levi had just said the word that nailed the issue — fear.

She imagined her life like this. Like the past few days — isolated, empty, in the middle of nowhere. With no one to talk to, unless she could tolerate the scrutiny.

“I’m scared,” she sobbed, “I want to go home.”

She was scared of returning home too late, of having missed everything with her mother. Of coming back without a child. Of never fitting anywhere again.

“Y/N, listen to me.” His voice rose, trying to snap her out of it. “There’s nothing out here. What are you so scared of?”

He shook her slightly — not hard, just enough to try and make her focus. But they were speaking two different languages. Living in two different worlds that could’ve been so easily connected, if only one of them had the right words.

His hands gripped her arms again — not roughly — but her skin was already bruised.

She was scared of what he’d do once they were alone, after the scene she was making. Scared of opening the wrong drawer in their shared quarters. Scared of living in a place she was merely allowed to exist in. Scared of stepping fully into her mother’s shoes, of hearing herself one day say the same resigned words.

It felt stupid — ridiculous even — that the very role she had trained her whole life for now terrified her.

“Of you,” she whispered.

Those two words echoed louder between them than any scream.

Levi’s hands, which had been trying to steady her, fell away. Slowly. Like he’d just been burned. Almost ashamed.

It hit him in the heart — a clean, precise shot — and silenced any argument he might have had.

A knot rose in his throat, nearly choking him. His lips pressed into a hard line.

A stupid thought crossed his mind: ‘This would be ten times easier if I were the asshole everyone thinks I am.’  Maybe if he cared less, her words wouldn’t have cut so deep.

The silence of the wilderness was all-encompassing.

“I didn’t want to yell at you,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “Not the other day. Not in the bedroom.”

Her sobs quieted. She didn’t raise her eyes, but the words confused her—startled her enough to pause.

“The night with the ink mess,” he continued, “that was me bitching. I stand by what I said, but it was a shitty way to say it.” He exhaled, frustrated. “And my stubborn ass thought I’d find a less shitty time to explain all this crap. But then you lied. You disappeared. And I got so fucking angry—” He stopped himself. “I’m still fucking angry.”

Levi cut off, as if even trying to speak was pushing his limits.

“I know it sounds hypocritical, after I slammed a drawer and shout, but…” he hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not like that.”

The implication hung thick in the air. He ran a hand through his hair, then let it fall to the back of his neck, scratching absently—like he might find relief in tugging out a particularly stubborn hair. A bitter scoff escaped his lips.

“I guess I’ve gotta prove that,” he muttered. “Until death do us part.”

That line — half-joke, half-confession — snapped her out of the spiral she’d been in. It didn’t feel like a demand to trust him. Or a challenge. Or some dramatic vow. It felt like what it was: a quiet promise. One he’d have to prove every single day, not just once, but over and over — to her, to himself, maybe even to the kind of man he wanted to be.

For the first time in a while, she looked up. Met his eyes. And then, softly — her voice scratchy, like it hadn’t been used in years — she said, “I promise you… nothing happened between us.”

Levi let out a humorless breath. Almost a laugh. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m not naive.”

He didn’t smell anything on her. Nothing out of place. If something deeper had happened — more than a kiss, more than talk — her scent would’ve told him. But still… something in his voice hinted at how close betrayal had felt. How easily imagined.

The tone stung. She heard the hurt behind it.

“I… I’ve even been burning his letters,” she added quickly, like it might patch something.

“Letters?” Levi cut in sharply. “Die—? Some bullshit? Diederik? I thought he was a cousin or something with how often he sent them.”

She tensed, shrinking slightly. She hadn’t expected him to remember. Or connect it so quickly.

“You knew he was sending letters to my place and didn’t say a word?” he asked, tone sharper now but not fully furious — more baffled. “The fucking audacity of that asshole to send letters to my house.” He swore under his breath. “Is that how you arranged to meet him?”

“There wasn’t any arranging…” she mumbled. “He left me a note under the hotel room door. I told you — I’ve been burning the rest.”

Levi didn’t explode like she feared. Instead, he just frowned deeply, dragging a hand over his eyes and pressing into the sockets like the pressure might keep his temper down.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You went to meet with a guy who sent you letters you didn’t answer, tracked you to a hotel, left notes under your door…” He trailed off, grimacing. “Holy fuck, you’re alive by a miracle.”

“Well… now that you put it like that,” she said, trying and failing to smile. Her voice cracked. “I—I just wanted to talk to someone. Like a friend. I didn’t know him like that.”

Talk to him… like a friend? Is she stupid? He was completely lost in her train of thought—because he couldn’t recall a single lifetime, or universe, where you could go talk to your ex-fiancé as a friend.

“Didn’t you spend the whole previous day at your friend’s house? Didn’t that help?”

But the moment the word friends left his mouth, she broke eye contact. Her face twisted in pain, sharp and unfiltered. Like he’d just stepped on something raw. As he tried to piece together the last few days, Levi realized he was unraveling a pattern of missing information.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

‘Oh no. We are not doing that.’

He put both hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently backwards until she almost fell onto a loose log. The Scouts had sat there earlier that day. The bonfire was out, the pot left to dry with the serving spoon still in it—cleaned after they’d eaten the stew. Legs spread, Levi sat down beside her with a demanding presence.

“Why did you lie to me? Why’d you say you were meeting your folks when you weren’t?”

Facing each other, Levi studied her tight-lipped, apologetic expression, searching for something real beneath it. “I’m not throwing some shitty punishment at you or anything. I just want to know why you looked me in the eye and lied.”

She hesitated—doubt in her eyes, but no real reason to keep it in anymore, except maybe fear of what might come next. “I thought… if I told you my parents weren’t going, you wouldn’t take me to Mitras.”

“So your parents were never gonna be fucking there?”

She shook her head slowly. Then, as if something clicked, her mind reached for a memory—his words on their first night.

“No…” she murmured, “My family’s at the countryside house. It was too short notice for them to come to the capital.” Her words were sluggish, either from the exhaustion of a recent forced sleep or the weight of everything pressing down on her. “And… my mother’s pregnant.”

Levi frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing as the pieces didn’t quite fit. ‘I saw her, what—a month ago? She didn’t even look pregnant.’ Logic kicked in. A woman that far along shouldn’t travel, sure. But something still felt off.

“Ah,” he hummed, a vague noise of forced acknowledgment. “Congrats.” Then, seeing the sadness on her face, he quickly added, “I guess.”

“I need to go back,” she said, fiddling with her fingers in distress, picking at the skin beside her nails. “My mom needs me. She’s having a difficult pregnancy.”

Her voice was steady, but her reasoning made no sense to him.

“And what are you gonna do there?”

“Look after my siblings, of course.”

A hum of mild surprise echoed in his throat. “Ah… You got more than your little sister?”

“We’re seven in total.”

“Seven?!” He reeled back in shock. “Damn. How old is your mother?”

The question confused her. Most of her friends came from big families. “Thirty-nine… almost forty, I think.”

Levi did the math in his head, blinking. “Your mom’s six years older than me and has seven kids?” He looked genuinely thrown, while she just blinked at his reaction, like it wasn’t that strange at all. That only confirmed it. “Holy shit. Your folks really didn’t waste any time, huh?”

That earned a quiet chuckle from her. “The doctor said my mom shouldn’t be having more children… she’s lost too many pregnancies already. Mae was even born premature.” Her voice cracked. “I’m scared she won’t make it…”

Levi softened slightly, trying—awkwardly—to offer comfort. “I’m sure a good doctor’ll find a way to end the pregnancy and make sure your mom pulls through. Don’t worry.”

But the way she looked at him—confused, regretful—made something click.

“‘Cause that’s the smart thing to do,” he added. “Especially when she’s got a bunch of young kids who need her more than a newborn does.”

“My… family believes the more, the merrier,” she whispered. “A child is always a blessing.”

Levi let out a long, heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. The whole situation was simple and infuriating at the same time. “Right. Your dad’s allergic to wrapping it up and doesn’t give a fuck. That’s the real problem.”

Her face turned scarlet. She stammered, “Why would you say it like that? Gosh—” she dropped her voice, “They’re married, after all… it’s normal. Plus, they’re mates. What do you expect them to do?”

“Well, for starters,” Levi said dryly, “I know your family owns two houses. He could spend a week or two a year in the other one and not get her pregnant. Problem solved.”

But even he knew that wasn’t the real issue. That was just surface-level.

“Then again, that’s clearly not a solution for a man who doesn’t give a fuck about his family.”

The blow landed.

“He does care about us,” she insisted, defensive now—though he hadn’t said them, just her father.

“If he cared,” Levi said coldly, “he’d know that his other six brats need their mother a hell of a lot more than he needs to go raw for a week.”

For the first time in her life, someone had said it — had placed the blame on the other party in the relationship.

His words still hurt. Maybe because defending her family’s dynamics had been written into her since childhood, stitched into her with years of quiet teachings and expectations.

But somehow, his bluntness opened a door — just wide enough for her to voice something that had long lived in the back of her mind as nothing more than an intrusive thought.

“To be honest… I don’t think they should be having any more kids either,” she admitted.

The words felt light — like letting go of something she didn’t know she was carrying.

“But it’s done,” she added, quieter now. “And my siblings need me.”

“You know,” Levi said, resting an elbow on one knee, his voice low and rough, “I don’t usually say this to anyone but myself, but… that’s not your responsibility.”

Her head turned, brows creased. “How can you say that? They’re my little brothers and sisters.”

A soft, resigned scoff escaped his nose. Because in her, he saw it — for the first time. That same thing that lived in him. Blind loyalty. Crushing duty. That instinct to carry burdens that were never yours to begin with.

“Y/N,” he said, voice firm but not unkind. “You’re their sister. Not their mother.” He leaned forward, gaze steady. “I know it sounds fucking selfish. I’m sure it does. But if you let yourself become a slave to your parents’ bad decisions… then the day your mother dies, you’ll be the next one in line to be your father’s wife 2.0.”

She played with her ring, turning it around her finger without taking it off. It had become a habit since it used to be loose. Now it fit snugly—tightened by Levi’s makeshift fix. Her breathing was soft, quiet, as his words slowly sank in and took root in her mind. It would take a lot of care and time for that seed of self-identity to grow into something real, but it was a start. Like a frozen pond in midwinter—beneath all the thick, harsh layers of ice, there was still life.

She frowned deeply. “You’re right… it’s just—it’d be easier to feel less useless if I could help, at least like that.” But her voice cracked at the edges. Levi’s mind went straight to how he’d told her she needed to start helping around. He was about to tell her it wasn’t that serious—but then, like the final drop that overflows a full glass, she broke.

“I should’ve used my time in the capital—wasted on meeting Die—to go see the doctor my friend told me about.”

“A doctor? You feel bad?” Levi asked quickly, alert. “Oi—oi, what’s the matter?”

He bent down, trying to get a look at her face. She was sobbing again, wet and broken. She shook her head, unable to speak.

“Why would you go see a doctor if you’re not sick?”

“Because I lost my heat,” she whispered, “and maybe I can’t get pregnant… like my mom.”

“What?” he said. “Why are you saying that bullshit? Your friends told you that?”

She nodded slightly. “Well, fuck your friends,” Levi said immediately. “You’re young. You’re stressed. You don’t need a damn doctor.”

But his words barely scratched the surface of the storm inside her. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap.

“It’s just—” she sobbed, “I can’t even do the one thing I’m supposed to do right.”

“Oi—”

“No, but—” her words stumbled over themselves as her breathing quickened again. “It’s the only thing I’m meant to do and I can’t even do it! Why is my body betraying me like this? If I’m not a mother, then what am I supposed to be?!”

Her hands flew up to cover her face as her cries broke open again, muffled by her palms. She curled forward, shoulders trembling.

Levi sat there, speechless. His gut twisted. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m so bad at this.”

But then—he reached a hand to her back, steady, warm. “This is gonna sound cringe as hell,” he muttered, “but... you can be whatever you fucking want, Y/N.”

She flinched slightly, moving away—not to reject his comfort, but as if she didn’t think she deserved it. Like this heartbreak was punishment.

He kept going, even as she turned.

“Listen to me. You’re young. We’ve got plenty of damn time to figure out if your heat comes back, or if you can get knocked up. And if not? We’ll deal with that. And if nothing works? There’s still a whole lot more in life than pushing out kids. A hundred other kids out there who’d be lucky to have someone like you.”

“Don’t act like this isn’t an inconvenience,” she said bitterly. “An alpha with an omega who can’t even go into heat...”

That short-circuited something in him.

“You think I care about that?” he asked sharply. As she wouldn’t look at him, she wouldn’t answer either. He reached out and gripped her face, gently but firmly, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You think I care that you lost a heat?” he repeated. Their faces were inches apart. The raw pain in hers answered for her.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N. I haven’t even thought about that.” His voice was low and rough. “I don’t give a shit. I care that you’re a crying mess because of some bitch you call a friend.”

“Me?” He scoffed. “Do I look like someone who goes around saying shit to make people feel better?”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“C’mon, Y/N. Half the time I can’t even say the shit I should say. You think I suddenly got the social skills to lie?”

Between sniffles, she laughed.

Their eyes met. Her cheeks flushed—whether from crying or their closeness, neither could say.

“Don’t you think this all would’ve been easier if I’d had my heat in spring?” she asked, teasing softly now.

“No,” he said immediately. “Have you seen how damn controlling I am? The country’s a mess, and the thought of leaving you behind, knocked up with my kid, while I ride off to the end of the shitty world—” he quoted her, “—is already making me want to rip my hair out.”

She laughed again, and wiped at her face.

“I’m sorry about all this.”

“I’m sorry I wasted money on a cart for you to visit those bitches,” he said dryly. “Next time, spit in their faces.”

“Levi!” she scolded, laughing through the last of her tears.

After a rare moment of closeness, they both leaned forward, gently bumping their foreheads together in silent support. Her breathing was still uneven, but it was calming, slowly syncing with his. Breathing the same air, their scents mingled. His hand, still cupping her cheek, moved to stroke her face gently. He still couldn’t find the right words. But this was something.

They sat there a little longer.

Eventually, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Her fingers played with her ring again, but this time, there was peace in it.

The gold thread shimmered softly in the first light of dawn.

“I should’ve taken the ring to get resized when we were in Mitras,” Levi muttered, annoyed at himself for missing the chance.

But she just smiled, more tenderly this time. “It’s alright. I like it like this.”

Levi frowned, unsure if she really meant it.She held her hand up and spread her fingers, admiring it.

“They say rings match the marriage. That’s why people want the biggest, the fanciest. But I think ours matches us pretty well.”

Silence lingered for a few seconds as Levi squinted at her, trying to process the statement.

“Shitty?” he offered.

She laughed brightly.“No, you idiot,” she grinned. “It’s not meant to fit. But we try to make it work. And that’s more than a lot of people can say about their arrangements.”

He hummed softly, nodding. “Yeah… that sounds way more poetic.”

—

From a safe distance, just beyond the tree line, the remnants of Levi’s squad were half-huddled, half-loitering, trying to stay out of sight.

Or at least, most of them were trying.

Sasha groaned, arms crossed over her stomach. “Can I go have breakfast already? I’m literally dying.”

Behind the cover of a tall tree, Hange peeked around the bark like a spy in a bad disguise. “Give them some time,” they whispered, voice full of mischievous reverence.

Armin yawned as they were supposed to start their duties and squinted toward the couple at the camp’s edge. “Weren’t they, like, screaming at each other last night?” He tilted his head. “And now they’re cuddling? That kind of emotional whiplash causes unpredictable attachment models in kids. Has anyone considered that? I could develop toxic anxious attachment,”

“Dude,” Connie muttered, elbowing him, “don’t blame your anxiety on them. You already had that before the marital drama.”

The group snickered.

As the omega and alpha pair sat quietly under the early morning sky — heads bowed together, peaceful — as they waited for them to be over so they could carry on with their duties.

“So… how’d they make up?” Jean asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hange turned around from peeking, smirking as they casually raised both hands—left hand forming a ring with their thumb and index finger, while the right index and middle fingers thrust through the circle.

A chorus of gasps followed.

“No way,” Sasha whispered, nearly choking on nothing.

Mikasa frowned, blinking slowly. “But… we don’t have a bed here.”

“As if a bed’s ever stopped anyone, sweetie,” Hange said, not even glancing back.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Armin muttered, mostly to himself.

That made Hange turn fully around, eyes glinting behind their glasses. “Look at that,” they said with a satisfied sigh. “Levi was right. The shy ones are the worst.”

They smirked. “And why, dear Armin, were you listening in the first place? Hm? You little voyeur.”

Armin froze, color rushing to his ears. “Wait—what?! No, I— That’s not what I—! I was trying to sleep!”

“What’s a voyeur?” Sasha asked, squinting curiously.

“Eh…” Hange shrugged. “A type of bread.”

Author’s Note 💔: Hey friends 💌 I’m not gonna lie, writing this chapter was bittersweet because… Tumblr nuked my blog. Five whole years of headcanons, over 200 posts, and I was this close to hitting 10k followers. And yeah, I’ve never been one to obsess over numbers—some fics did well, some didn’t—but what I truly treasured was the community we built together 🥺💕 I’ve gotten the sweetest asks over the years. One person told me they used to read my fics while pregnant and now they read them to their kid. Like, hello?? That kind of thing stays with you forever. Losing all of that without warning? It broke me. And apparently, I’m not alone—Reddit is full of people saying their years-old accounts were randomly deleted too. Support won’t answer, and (get this) I even got banned from the support page for just asking why my blog got taken down 🙃 But despite everything, I’m still here. People always asked me, “Will you keep writing after the manga ends? After the anime ends?” And my answer has always been: “I’ll keep doing this as long as it’s fun for me.” And guess what? It’s still fun. So here’s a 15k word chapter because apparently I cannot shut up 📝💀 If you’re looking for me, I’ve made a new (very improvised) tumblr: lucysarah1875 And I also have a lil discord server in case you want to hang out/chat/cry about Levi with me 😭 Just shoot me a message at lucysarahc on Discord and I’ll send you a fresh invite link since they expire faster than Tumblr’s mercy. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love, comments, and support you’ve given me. It means more than I can ever express T-T Okay okay, enough rambling. Enjoy the chapter 💕 — Lucy <3

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