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#104th trainee corps
elmundodeflor · 1 year
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Attack On Titan is a Work of Love
Something I'm always in awe of, is how love is depicted in Attack On Titan. Mostly, because it feels realistic and relatable. Love isn't always the big, over-the-top Romeo and Juliet type.
Love is Eren wrapping a scarf around Mikasa.
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Armin regularly going to see Annie.
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Love is Levi and Hanji knowing each other so well, they’re able to communicate without the need for words.
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Historia trusting Ymir so much, that she was the first one she revealed her real name to.
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Love isn’t always flowers and big confessions like the ones we see in movies or media. Daily, human love lays in the detail. It’s in consistency, in those little day-to-day gestures a person can have with another. it's in waiting for your partner with a nice meal at home, in sharing a moment of comfort, in understanding eachother by just looking into one another's eyes. it's in protecting and caring and nurturing and motivating.
And it’s why love in Attack On Titan will always feel real. Palpable. Beautifully subtle.
To me, it will always be grounbreaking how, in a world so full of hatred, Isayama managed to create so many unbreakable bonds of the most imperfectly pure love, and how he was able to explore love in all of its different phases and colors.
Love between brothers/family:
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Love between friends:
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Idolatry (the tpye of love that makes you go blind)
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Unrequited love:
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Grief (the loss of someone you loved):
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New-found love:
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It will always be close to my heart, how Attack On Titan shows love at every corner, in every frame: in words of hope, in helping somebody who struggles, in the will to protect somebody at the highest of costs, in the joking and teasing in affectionate ways. It’s all there, in the small, in what the eye doesn’t always see. It’s always been.
So, even when Attack On Titan can be seen as a work of war and life and death and how the evil parts of the human world work, to me, it will forever be a work I remember for being overflowed with love, too.
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rosec0urtz · 1 year
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Bertolt: Christa has green eyes right?
Reiner: Christas eyes are blue with a hint of light blue when the light hits just right.
Bertolt: And when was the last time she smiled?
Reiner: Last night at 12:03 am
Bertolt: Right, and when's my birthday?
Reiner:
Bertolt: When's my birthday, Reiner?
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saggypapayas · 5 months
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At it’s heart, Attack on Titan is really just a never-ending story about a worm
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lehouxnap2 · 1 year
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So i was very bored and i needed a new phone background.
Guess who misses the 104th bitchessss
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castlydiem · 11 months
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Follow me on Instagram! @castlydiem
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oxygenbefore1775 · 2 years
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My favorite thing to do while rewatching the anime is to pause wherever a big group of characters is shown and to count how many of them end up dead.
some spoilers ahead
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i rest my case
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six-magnitude-girl · 4 months
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Title: Like Titans, Only Smaller // AO3
Author: Feneris
Status: COMPLETED (one-shot)
Summary: Scouting Legion HQ suddenly finds itself with an infestation of cockroaches. Levi takes immediate action by burning down two of the castle's outbuildings, Eren is apparently good at killing insects with throwing knives, Hanji and Armin go on to create chemicals deadly enough to kill titans, oh, and Mikasa is afraid of roaches.
Tags: Cockroaches, Infestations, Mikasa is Afraid of Roaches, Throwing Knives, Fumigation, Community: snkkink, Burning Down Buildings, CRACK
Relationships: Gen
Thoughts: Another reason why Mikasa loves Eren, Mikasa's kryptonite, Armin and Hanji killing everyone and Erwin closing one eye.
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milky-aeons · 3 months
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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄
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౨ৎ  . . . he's always been cocky. It was that self-righteous bravado JEAN KIRSCHTEIN had which drew you towards him in the first place, like a moth to flame, too curious to look away. It was your own damn fault for getting burned.
warnings: swearing, sexual content, emotional dysregulation, reader is bad at feelings, Jean is no better, enemies to lovers, mdni, w.c 3.9k
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𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, at first.
A mindless curiosity. If you were being honest, what really piqued your initial interest in Jean Kirschtein was that ridiculous way he wore his hair.
At least, that was what you liked to tell yourself. On those nights where his golden eyes wouldn't leave your mind while you tossed and turned. Feeling your body heat, your skin stretching too taut across your bones, aching.
It had morphed into something more mind consuming, more tangible, at a speed and stealth you couldn't keep up with. You were always a woman who liked to have a decent reign on her emotions. In a world like this, where you had all been thrown into war and shattered beyond repair, it took only the strong to pick themselves back up and keep going. For so long, that had been your only objective. To keep moving. To never stop, to make it to the other side.
And here you were. The Rumbling had decimated over eighty-percent of the world's population, was the number plastered across every newspaper in Eldia. You had made it. There was no reason to push it all away now in favour of those survival instincts. And in its wake, all your thoughts left untouched, those feelings left unfelt, came roaring up to the surface with a one sure goal of swallowing you whole.
You were going insane.
The first time you had saw him since the War broke out, you almost did not recognise him. Standing there at a newspaper stall at such towering height. He rose above any other male around him.
When you were teenagers, you used to delight in the blush that raced across his cheeks when you teased him about his silly undercut, how it reminded you of the mane of a horse. He would splutter, like a wounded thing, and shout at you in a high, offended voice. You would laugh, and laugh, until his tanned skin coloured the same shade as the roses you collected in your basket.
Back then, you were just an ordinary towns girl, making fun of a trainee soldier because you thought them all the same. Stuck up, boorish, common things for a youth to entertain. You never knew about the frequent encounters you would soon find yourself with the soldier who graduated in the 104th's Top Ten. Who, despite everything he boasted, joined ranks with the Survey Corps and ventured where you could only hope to dream. Who would bump into you on quiet, serene nights as you returned from the flower fields, and offer you a suave smile.
"Never thought I'd see you again. You're still goin' round with those flowers in your basket, huh?"
"Indeed, I am. Would you like me to fashion you a flower crown? It would do well to hide that ridiculous haircut you seem to still wear."
The boat rocked against the lull of the waves. Your vase skidded across the wooden worktop, and you gasped, holding it in place.
You had become distracted, again.
Being one of the best florists within all three walls, and after taking up the family business as your father's prodigy, you were not surprised when a group of militants showed up at your studio a few days hence. Informing you of a campaign to visit the nation of Marley, and that your services would be of great use. Many ceremonies, they had said, a great many. We could use a florist's touch such as you.
And that was the day you saw him again. At the newspaper stand. His hair was longer, his eyes sharp and always cunning. From your workroom here on the boat destined for Marley, you were certain the smooth baritone of his voice had become one with the walls at this point, you seemed so fixated on it.
Insane. That man was driving you insane.
Huffing, you picked up a smooth satin ribbon from your sewing box and fashioned it around the bouquet you had taken longer than usual to put together. The first of many you had been asked to create for a cordial tea that was scheduled for when you first arrived there. Bittersweet, for truth, Calla Lily, to show justice, sharp pops of colour from Gladioli, for strength of their new nations. You sat back in your chair and regarded the arrangement.
It was the need to speak to the Commander about the debrief of events that sent you standing from your chair and meandering down the ships hallways in search of your company. It was not because the soft tongues of pollen from the lilies were just the same shade as his watchful, watchful eyes.
"Excuse me," You spoke after knocking on the door of the main cabin. Armin Arlert's cordial tone beckoned you inside.
All of the main players of Paradis' military were gathered around a small tea service; the Commander and his partner, Annie Leonhart, along with the strong presence of Reiner Braun, sitting at the round table. Armin smiled warmly at you when you introduced yourself into the room with a small bow.
He, was furiously fixing his long hair in the reflection of a wall mirror in the corner of your vision. You refused to look his way. Out of sheer stubbornness, you would not. To prove something to yourself, you would aptly ignore the soldier.
Yet you did notice how his comb suddenly froze in mid air when you entered the room.
"Miss [Name]," Armin greeted. "Can we help you with anything? Is everything to your liking?"
"Everything is just perfect, Commander." You said, smiling warmly. "I have come to tell you that I... have been within two minds about what flowers I should use for our opening ceremony. Would strength imply hostility to the already wounded Marley nation, if I were to use Galdioli?"
Armin tilted his head to the side, his golden hair sliding across his forehead. "Hm. No, I think it's good to be a bit bold, actually. I'll trust your judgement on it, [Name]."
You were surprised that you had asked such a convincing question, after coming to the cabin on a shaky basis. Feeling his eyes on you through the mirror, your cheeks pulled into a tight smile, and you were just about to thank the Commander, when—
"All this talk about flower crap, what ones to use, what ones to stick in your hair," Jean Kirschtein's voice piqued up, and you roiled at the way it slinked across your skin, how it called all your senses to high alert. He chuckled in a smooth timbre. "Really, [Name], you haven't changed a bit."
Stiffly, you slowly turned your posture until you could fully face the soldier in the corner of the room. He had gone back to his task of combing those auburn locks to sit neatly swept, his eyes not looking at you.
Connie Springer, who had previously been leaning out of the cabin window, turned to his comrade with an accusing face. "Says the guy who's been fixin' his damn hair the last hour. What are you even doin' that for, huh?"
In his reflection, you saw how Jean's lips stretched into a cheeky, heart-breaking smirk. It made the flutter of your pulse hum erratically, made every sharp remark you wanted to throw at him bottom out from your mind.
"Because," Jean boasted. "I gotta look good for all the Marley ladies we're gonna bump into, don't I?"
And just like that, your heartbeat stilled in your chest.
It hadn't occurred to you until then, how acutely tangible that feeling inside you had become for the golden-eyed soldier. When it had made that shift from curiously interested to all-encompassing, ravaging, when it had become a need of yours to have him in every way you could. And standing there in the doorway of that small cabin, on that boat destined for Marley, you had felt the weight drop deep against your shoulders.
You were in love with Jean Kirschtein.
It was a barrage of emotions, one coming in torrents after the other. Shock. Longing. A foolish, giddy elation. And then; anger. Brewing, boiling, furious anger.
You were in love with Jean Kirschtein.
"Miss [Name]?" Armin called you softly, his tone edged with concern. You blinked, coming back into the room, only to realise that every pair of eyes were gazing at you curiously. "Are you feeling okay?" He ebbed.
An impressive reign on your emotions you had, indeed. But these emotions were never there before — and you had realised that, all this time, this is what had been trying to rise up and swallow you down. Yet anger, you were familiar with anger, you could shield yourself with that and use it to escape, just like you have always done.
"Yes—Yes, I am quite alright," You smiled, but it was razor-sharp. Then, directing it at him, the man of all your desires, you said, "I have heard there are some interesting technologies in Marley, Kirschtein. One of them namely being the light camera. Perhaps, you should ask them to take a photo of your face, so you can stare at it as much as you want."
Jean's honey eyes went wide. Connie coughed, which turned into a deep throng of laughter that had him falling from the window and into a chair. Perhaps his comrades had joined in on the chortling too, but you did not stay long enough to find out. The moment the sharp words left your tongue, you had whirled around, shutting the cabin door behind you.
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The scent of the Calla Lilies were sweet and cloying, and even as you cradled your face in your shielding hands, their pollen still found a way to reach you. Dizzying, half-maddening, just like your thoughts as they spun without mercy in your mind.
You loosed a breath and leaned up so your hands, still clasped, pressed against your mouth. You could feel each pound of your heart, as if it were a hummingbird trapped in its cage within your chest. Any moment now, you were sure it would burst free and fly far, far away. You wished it would. In fact, you wished you yourself could just burst into a thousand little pieces and soar through the cabin window and be scattered within the waves if it meant you did not have to feel like this.
Hot. Angry. Yet scared, upset, mortified at yourself and how you had exploded at him. He—Jean, he did not deserve such remarks. He did not deserve how you had taken your insecurities and made them into swords to fling back at him. Of course, you knew this, and that rational tender part of you wished to corner him in some private area of the ship and apologise. Another part warred with that thought, wishing to grab him by the lapels of his brown suit and shake him back and forth, screaming, furious that he was eliciting such feelings from you.
And yet, a smaller side of you, a dangerous, heated area of your heart also wanted to grab hold of his lapels, but only to rip and rend them from his body. Exposing his smooth, strong flesh that he held himself so proudly with underneath—
You stood up with the intention to pace around your room until you could will yourself to calm down.
That was when you heard the thundering footsteps outside.
They were quick. They were determined, rapping against the wooden floorboards that connected all corners of the ship. Startled, you felt every inch of you still, your senses on sudden high alert. They were close by. Were they coming from—?
The door to your work room suddenly flew open, the force of it strong enough to crack the door against the wall as it did so. And there he stood on the other side of it in all his maddening glory, his large hand outstretched from where he had impacted, his shoulders moving up and down with effort. Before you could even protest, Jean had invited himself into your quarters and slammed the door behind him.
His eyes, wild and stern, found you and locked you in place. Rudely, he jutted his finger in your direction and spat, "Just what the hell is your problem, huh?"
So taken aback at the sudden intrusion of the man you had just been agonising over now standing here, panting and furious in your bedroom — it had taken a second for your mind to really catch up. But when it did, your first reaction was obvious defence, causing you to straighten your spine and gawk at him.
"I beg your—!"
"Oh, don't fuck with me, [Name]. I think it's time we sat down and had this damn conversation." Jean snarled, the muscles in his cheek jumping as he spoke. "Ever since we were kids, you've had this weird hate against me, and I've never understood why. The hell have I ever done to you, hah?"
Heat was quick to rise up the column of your exposed neck and onto your cheeks. He was angry, you could see it in the way his eyes blazed, his broad shoulders bunched and tight. You mirrored him, your eyebrows knotting at what he had just said.
Hate him?
"Don't be dramatic, Kirschtein. I've never—!"
"Oh yeah?" He goaded, his expression mocking. "Bullshit. What was that back there, then? Or yesterday? Or at the newspaper stall before we left? Is that your weird sycophant way of being nice, or are we just living in a backwards world all of a sudden and I didn't get the memo?"
"We've always mocked each other, that doesn't mean I hate you—!"
"Well you damn well make it believable, sweetheart—"
"Will you please, just, calm down for a moment—"
"And you've been more prickly than usual, these days! Getting all riled up over things you usually don't, hell—you won't even fuckin' look at me anymore!"
"Well—that—that—!"
"If I've fucking done somethin' to ya, have a damn back bone and say it to me!"
"Jean—"
"And another thing—!"
"For the love of the Walls, it is because I am in love with you, you foolish man!"
The silence that cut into your argument was so deafening, you could almost hear it ringing in your ears.
Whatever angry words were about to leave Jean's open mouth died on his tongue. It almost looked as if they had been forced right back down his throat, he looked so strangled for air.
None of you dared say a thing. The only sounds that existed within the room was the echo of your laboured, angry breaths, mingling with the sudden inhale of air he took that expanded his chest. He moved his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out. His dark brows knitted together. He opened his mouth again.
"What... did you just say?"
It was like a bucket of water had been decanted over your head, shocking you into realising what had passed from your lips. You stood there, dumbfounded, exposed, watching the emotions play across his face. The anger melting into shock, which bled into a distortedly humorous confusion.
He took a step forward, and asked again, "Oi, what was that last thing... you just said?"
"Nothing." You bared your teeth at him. "I said nothing. Get out."
He was eating up the small distance that existed between you two until he reduced it to that of a few steps. On his face there was an expression you couldn't decipher, could not sift through the emotions which held it together. Perhaps the uncertainty of it was what sent you retreating until your back hit the far wall of your bedroom. Perhaps it was the shattering of your defences, your walls you kept up so effortlessly, that fuelled the glare you threw his way when you craned up to see him.
When you saw something simmering in the eyes that haunted you in the deepest, darkest hours of the night, you thought — perhaps it was the realisation between the two of you, that the shift from fun to tangible had taken place long, long ago.
"Leave, Kirschtein." You whispered, but it came out hollow, broken.
He narrowed his eyes, leaning down so you shared breath. "Do you want me to?"
Every aspect of him invaded your senses, made it so frustratingly hard to think, to breathe. With him so close, barely millimetres from brushing your nose with his own as he levelled your faces, you could see the smatter of freckles on his high cheekbones. Could breathe in his scent of musk and sea breeze, quickening your breaths, your pulse. Your fingers clawed into the wood behind, restraining yourself from reaching out to him. Because you were afraid that if you did touch him, that you would never be able to stop.
He shifted to press his hand to the side of your head.
"Do you," Jean murmured, whispering so as only you could hear. "Want me to leave, [Name]?"
Instinct was roaring at you to press into him, crying for a release to an ache deep within your belly that curled low and heady.
Insane. He had already drove you insane.
"Damn you, Kirschtein." You hissed, before reaching up to fist your hands into his stupidly fixed hair and crashing your lips with his.
There was a moment of surprise on his part, as if he wasn't expecting you to be so bold. His lips remained frozen underneath your own, unyielding, a perfect statue of human discomposure. Jean, however, was a never a man who was slow to adapt to any situation, give it in the midst of battle or when the woman he has been pining after for years — who, he was convinced, hated his guts — had decided to smash their lips together.
And this sound escaped from the soldier. Akin to that of a wounded animal, a tortured soul, it rumbled down your throat and you swallowed it greedily. Jean's hand flew to cradle the side of your face, pushing back against your kiss, his fingers steepling into your hair and craning your neck back. Your shared kiss started off as something chaste and unsure — releasing each other before coming back for longer, scared to stop for too long lest they woke up and realised it was all a dream.
Jean grew impatient, he grew desperate for you. In one movement he had snaked his hand behind the small of your back and hoisted you against him — almost short-circuiting at the feel of your body pressed so close, like he had thought about so damn frequently. Every time you passed him, every time he watched the strong swish of your hips as you walked through the market on a sunny afternoon. He'd bite his lip, he'd put his fist in his mouth, anything to distract himself.
But this — right here, right now. This couldn't be real.
And yet, he wanted more. He needed more, he needed you.
A moan tore up your throat when he tilted your head just right to deepen the kiss, his large hand fitting to the back of your neck. You felt his tongue explore your mouth, eager and willing, so ravaged at tasting every part of you. It occured to you that you needed his tongue on other areas of your body. Between your breasts, your thighs, you needed to fist your hand in his hair and tell him where to go.
You let out a small shriek when he suddenly hooked two hands underneath your thighs and hoisted you up against the cabin wall.
The ship rocked as you clawed at one another, unravelling folds of clothing and facets of bravado until you were just two souls, two humans, who had survived it all and were allowed to live, without fearing that tomorrow could be the last. He had fisted the ribbons of your working dress in his hands and ripped them in one pull. You gasped when the air slid across your smooth skin, now exposed, hidden behind nothing but a camisole that peaked where your taut nipples were.
Suddenly, Jean paused. He stared at you as if he were seeing you again for the very first time.
"Fuck," He gasped, holding you tighter, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your sensitive thighs. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm—do you—?"
You grabbed the knot of his tie and pulled him back into you, kissing him with a wild, chaotic passion that caused him to unfold underneath your fingertips.
It was in that chaos that he held you up fluidly to his body and walked you over so he could splay you against the work table — where the lilies and gladioli and bittersweets lay. He had shoved them somewhere off to the side, muttering something about stupid damn flowers and how they were always in his way.
And you had laughed. In that way which Jean secretly adored, as it upturned your eyes and made them crease at the sides. Like little curving moons in the night sky.
He shucked off his suit pants in a flurry of clumsy movements, palming at your breasts hungrily as he did so. You were driving him half mad with how good you looked, you smelled — fresh daisies and honey, intoxicating him, making his head spin. He splayed his entire hand onto your stomach and asked;
"You sure?"
Something broke inside of you at his vulnerable expression, always the gentleman. You sucked you lip between your teeth and nodded your head, adding, "I believe I will go insane if I cannot have you."
"Well, that makes fuckin' two of us."
The first stroke of him inside you was incomprehensible.
The second ignited your nerve endings and made you bow up and off of the desk, pulling you taut like a bow string and releasing you when he pulled back. There was something harmonious in the ryhtmn you two found, Jean keeping a hand on your stomach while he pushed into you hard and fast. At one moment, he lifted your leg underneath the knee and spread you wider, groaning ferociously as he buried to the hilt.
He kept going until he had fractured your universe. Until the little spots in your vision were like constellations. He was placing tender kisses along your body when you came back down to him, so raptured by pleasure it was hard to move. You could feel the pulse of him still inside you and he too, rode his release.
He swept your hair from your shining forehead and placed a long, lingering kiss.
"I said," You panted, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip. Oh, but you will have him again, and again, and again, until you made no use of your legs and the boat docked on Marley. Perhaps you would not even leave this room. Perhaps they would have no flowers for their ceremonies, after all. "That I dislike your hair even more that way, I'll have you know."
Jean's honey coloured eyes — dazed with pleasure — flickered to you when you said those words. Then, he chuckled, and you felt it vibrate against your chest and deep within your heart — where he had been, all this time.
He leaned down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck and said, "I love you too, idiot."
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the-traveling-poet · 7 months
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Hello 🥺🩷 I love your Levi x lieutenant y/n so much and I've been having an idea regarding Levi and lieutenant y/n but I couldn't find any Tumblr who'd make that request come to life unti I saw your head cold fanfic I was just in love . This is the idea I have in mind .... Levi and lieutenant y/n have grown up together from the time kuchel was alive they had a spark between them but after they joined the corps they became more focused on the duties they had and y/n chose to be his lieutenant to silently stay by his side . The scene where Levi was listening to Mikasa , Eren and armin sitting and talking about the outside world and sea after kenny dies , the trip leaves and Levi is sitting there tipsy when y/n comes and tries to tell him to go to sleep but then later she just sits down with him and they have a heartfelt talk with each other and how they have been one of the biggest supports in each other's life throughout their journey , they both indirectly confess how they feel and the other one gets it but they just sit there .
I know my request is very long but I have had this idea in my mind for such a long time I would really really be so greateful if you could make this idea come to life 🥹🙏💓🤍
Silent Confessions
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For as long as you could remember, Levi was at your side. From the moment your mothers met in the Underground and introduced their children to one another, up until you had both escaped that hell hole to become Captain and Lieutenant within the Survey Corps.
Over time, your bond had grown stronger with the more dangers you had thus far faced together.
Now, with a short break to prepare for the upcoming expedition to reclaim Wall Maria, you were able to spend some one on one time with your favorite shorty.
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Pairing: Levi x Lieutenant!Reader
Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, mentions of mental struggles
SFW, friends-to-lovers, fluff, S3
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A/N: Okay YES, I LOVE this idea. So cute I cannot T-T I hope I brought your vision justice!! Sorry it took me longer than usual to post this, my job got in the way BIG time.
As always if somethings doesn’t meet your expectations, I’ll happily re-write!
Enjoy~ 🤎
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The cheers of many drunken men and women echoed off the halls as they celebrated the Scout’s most recent victory.
Yes, many had fallen and suffered injuries worse than death itself, but this was the farthest humanity had come to a victory in…well…ever. So of course, a celebration was in order.
The cadets from the 104th trainee corps all stood around their table, cheering and drinking and congratulating one another on their various deeds, finally at ease enough to relax and be themselves.
You smiled to yourself as you lifted your own mug to your lips, swallowing the burning bitter taste of whisky as it flowed down your throat. You felt good, for once. It had been longer than you’d liked to have admit since you allowed yourself an evening to let loose and enjoy your time in the present.
Downing your second drink, you quickly went to refill your mug before wandering around the mess hall; merely observing your comrades enjoy their rewarded night off.
Along the way, you caught many familiar voices in the crowd, which made you smile to yourself in relief.
Good, they made it back alive.
Seeing all these happy faces around you reminded you of a time that seemed oh so long ago. Back in the days you still had a bright glow of hope shining in your eyes. While you had more hope now than you’d had in years, you still couldn’t help but worry.
For the citizens of Paradis. For your companions. For your friends, and yourself. Would you live to see this war ended? Or would you join your late friends and meet their same fate?
Shaking your head, you sighed.
Tonight is about celebration. Letting go, and relaxing…that’s what I should be doing, too.
The longer you stood there lost in your own thoughts, the rowdier and louder it had become in the hall. Looking around, you found the main source of the sudden bombardment of cheers and shouts.
Between two tables stood Eren and Jean, fists gripping each other’s shirts as they sluggishly threw punches. You were tempted to intervene, but when you saw the calm look on Mikasa’s face near to where Eren stood, you let your posture relax again. The girl was usually so uptight about his safety, so seeing her relaxed reassured the two would be fine.
A presence to your left caught your eye, and you turned towards the man who now stood beside you.
“Evening, Levi,” you greeted softly.
He replied with a click of his tongue, his narrowed gaze never leaving the cadets to meet yours.
“I suppose they should be broken up. Again,” he scoffed, folding his arms.
“Perhaps…Just don’t go too hard on them.” You chuckled behind your drink. Finally Levi shot you a look from the corner of his eye, observing the way you brought the mug to your lips.
“I don’t suppose they had any of that?” He raised a brow, gesturing to your alcohol.
“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. It would explain the sudden and poorly executed fighting, but I wasn’t babysitting them, so I cant say.” You shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip as you watched the two boys go at it.
Shaking his head, Levi left your side and strode towards them, but his scowl wasn’t as deep-set now.
“Oi,” Levi called out, now standing behind the brawling teens. Two swift kicks sent them rolling, clutching their sides and stomachs.
“Go to bed.”
The boys started to frantically scatter at his threatening tone, but poor Jean crumpled on the ground. The sound of him losing his dinner and drinks all over the floor made you turn your head away with a grimace, quickly making your way to the door leading out of the hall.
“And someone clean that up,” you heard Levi grumble before the large wooden door closed behind you.
The cool night air caressed your face in a gentle breeze, barely ruffling through your hair. Breathing in deeply, you closed your eyes for a moment; enjoying the quiet stillness that was now your surroundings.
Of course, the banter and chatter of the soldiers in the hall behind you resonated off the cobblestone street at your feet, but as muffled as it was you could pretend you were far away in your own world for a moment.
You started to walk aimlessly, just to enjoy the solitude and the peace that came with it. But after some time, a trio of voices caught your attention.
Stopping in an ally way, you peaked around the corner to see Eren sitting on a flight of stone steps with Mikasa and Armin; all lost in their own private conversation.
For a moment, you contemplated joining them to check up on them, but a sudden shift in shadows to your left had you muffling a gaps of surprise.
Weary grey eyes met your own, looking up at you from the ground where he sat. After regulating your breathing, you offered him a small smile; of which he merely nodded to.
Levi lifted a bottle to his lips and took a couple gulps from the container before setting it back down between his legs and looking over his shoulder towards the street outside the alleyway.
It seemed you weren’t the only one eves-dropping.
You slowly and quietly took a seat beside your Captain, still clutching your own mug in your hand as you leaned against the wall beside him. You both waited until the young trio had left the street to retire the night, leaving you and Levi alone in the near darkness the ally provided.
“Didn’t think you drank,” you commended dryly.
“Just cause I don’t drink at every given opportunity doesn’t mean I don’t drink at all,” he responded quietly, taking another small sip of his beverage.
“Fair enough,” you shrugged, mimicking him and taking a strong swing from your mug.
A silence fell between you for a moment while you gazed up at what little of the night sky you could see from the ally way, before your attention was snatched away by Levi’s sudden comment.
“I can’t understand how they do it. Maybe it’s because they’re so young…But they retain their hopes and dreams, even after all they’ve seen and done.”
You thought over his words for a moment before you replied.
“That they do. They sound so passionate when they talk about their ambitions. I think, with their determination, they’ll get there some day. The ‘sea’ I think Armin called it.”
Levi scoffed quietly, but not quite in disapproval. The expression on his face wasn’t one you could fully decipher.
“I tried that, once; having dreams and ambitions. All it got me was a pile of corpses.”
Pouting slightly, you lowered your head to stare down at your feet, bringing your knees closer to your chest.
“Life is hard. It’s a constant struggle. But if there’s something you truly want…Something or someone you truly love…You find a way to keep moving forward. To keep fighting for that cause. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin obviously have something they truly want, so they keep fighting and maintain their hope.”
Here you paused, thinking over how to word your next question.
“So how about you? You’re still here. You’re still fighting. So that means you have something you want to obtain. Or see. Or someone worth struggling for. What is it you dream about?”
Levi caught your adamant stare, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He held your gaze as he thought, giving you the opportunity to really study and memorize his features.
Handsome features, you thought.
Finally, after releasing a sigh he seemed to have been holding in, he lowered his gaze down to the stone below him and fiddled with his bottle.
“I’m alive because I need to be. The people need something or someone they can look to for protection. That’s my job.”
“And?” You pressed.
“And? And what? That’s it.” Levi scoffed, shooting you a confused glare.
“No…I don’t think it is. Something’s keeping you fighting. I know you. Since we were children.” You chuckled around the rim of your mug.
Levi grumbled under his breath, making you stifle a laugh and cut him off.
“I’m not sure how much you’ve had to drink tonight, Captain, but I can promise you whatever you say will be kept between the two of us. Just like old times.”
Shooting you one last look from over his bottle, he rolled his eyes.
“Fine. I said, I suppose I’m still going on because I want to see those I…tolerate…live a life of peace some day.” He paused over his words for a moment, but finally met your eye and continued.
“There aren’t many, but for those few I’d do anything for.”
“Awe Levi, am I by chance one of these few?” you decided to lightly tease, leaning in closer to him.
Surprisingly, he didn’t try to pull away. Instead he stayed still, his shoulder brushing up against yours. You could smell the booze on his breath, but you hardly minded.
“Seeing as you’re the only one left alive that I’ve known nearly since birth, I suppose I tolerate you.” He huffed. “You’ve…been there for me, time and time again…I’m not sure what I’d do if you had died with them all those years ago.”
Grief clenched your heart, thinking back to your late comrades. They’d met their gruesome fate on your first exposition beyond the walls.
Lowering your gaze, you gently placed your head onto his shoulder. He flinched slightly in surprise, but again didn’t pull away.
“I miss them, yknow? I know you do, too. But we keep the memory of Isabel and Farlan alive by fighting on. We keep the memories of our late mothers alive by continuing to fight. And though we only recently learned of this, the same applies to your uncle, Kenny. We fight. Cause we have a reason to.” You sighed after you finished, as he remained silent.
For quite awhile, he kept his gaze trained on the ground between his feet, not speaking a word as he downed the rest of his bottle.
“You,” he whispered, suddenly, after awhile of tense silence.
“Huh?”
“You asked what else. What else I fight for, Keep going on for….I want to see you live the life you’ve always wanted.”
His whispered reply brought heat to your cheeks, and you tried your best to hide that with your coat collar.
“You don’t have to worry about me. You’re stuck with me wether you like it or not.” You chuckled, playfully bumping his shoulder to diffuse the sudden awkward tension that surrounded the two of you after his comment.
“Yeah, you made that pretty damn clear when you fought to be my lieutenant.” Levi hummed, his eyes on the now empty drink in his hand. His eyes shifted slightly, and his weight leaned against your shoulder gently. He might not have been sober at this moment, but you didn’t worry. He could handle his liquor well, you knew. But even still, his tipsy words ignited a spark within your heart.
Blushing slightly once more, you averted your gaze from his face down to your hands.
“Yeah, well…You didn’t refuse my request, when I went to Erwin about it.”
“A decision I contemplate every day.”
“Would you have said no, if you knew what you do now, back then? All the dangers we’d face, and the things we had to do?” You asked almost hesitantly.
He paused, seemingly in thought. “No. No, I never would have said no to you. And…I never will.” He finally murmured, nearly in a whisper with slightly rosy cheeks. From the alcohol, or from emotions, you’d never truly know.
But you could read between the lines of his words, and had to bite back a grin. You knew he wouldn’t like to have his words repeated back to him, albeit re-worded, so you kept quiet with the knowledge that maybe….just maybe….You weren’t the only one who had caught feelings after all these years working side by side with your best friend.
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darklcy · 1 year
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𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 | 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐤
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𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : armin arlert x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: slow burn, takes place in season 1, parental issues, grief, insinuations of anxiety, bad language, reader has a bit of a struggle being social. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: enlistment ceremony begins. new environment, new lessons, new people. the questions remains of who you'll get along with. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭
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The sun rained nicely.
 Though summer was ending, the heat was as radiant as ever, breaking sweat on the pores of foreheads and underarms. Tension so stiff you could snap with too large of a breath...the vast field of dirt did nothing to console the panic levels rising within the many bodies here.
Fresh cotton firm and pressed to your body, a lightly tanned jacket embellished with two swords crossed on the chest pocket and amongst your shoulder blades. In rows of thirteen, you stood at row three, and in plain eyesight the exact amount of recruits couldn’t be exactly placed. Just over two hundred was where you safely guessed. 
Heavy, steel footsteps cracking the earth beneath him interrupted the stillness.
It began with a speech.
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮
“We now begin the enlistment ceremony for the 104th Trainee Corps!”
Broad, six foot four stature. Rows of crows feet beside the temples. A bald scalp.
“I am Keith Shadis, and I had the misfortune to be assigned to train you bastards, and I’m not here to welcome you at all.”
Quite the face to be greeted with. 
“Right now, you’re mere cattle, fit for nothing but Titan food! No, less than cattle!
In three years time, we’ll take you worthless pieces of crap and train you till you break. Give you what it means to go out and fight.”
His voice could shatter glass, and the vessels in your ear drums. Marching up and down the rough soil, his golden eyes were what terrified you the most. The shadows of his displeasure almost hid his stare completely, but just when contact was made, he honed you down like a hawk.
“In three years, when you stand before a Titan, will you still be food? Or will you be a noble wall, shielding the King? Or perhaps, one of humanity’s glorious soldiers that slays Titans?
You will decide.”
The opportunity to take in your fellow peers spread out in peripheral glances, not wanting to suggest any hint of movement. The soldiers on both sides were the only ones taken in full detail. 
In the midst of observation, a shadow blocks the glaring sunlight. You swallow down a gasp.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR NAME?!"
The boy on your left was the target. A flash of blonde hair moves as a salute births from his left arm. 
“A-Armin Arlert from Shiganshina, sir!”
A sharp inhale gets stuck in your nose. Whether the hometown mentioned stirred Keith Shadis or not, it was impossible to tell. 
..His face pops up again.
“Is that so? That name sounds fit for a pathetic bastard. Your parents name you that, punk?!”
Droplets of saliva shot out from the man’s hoarse yells and onto the boy’s face. 
"My grandfather, sir!"
Shadis dares in closer. 
“Why the fuck are you here, Arlert?!”
His response barrels out without a breath of pause.
“To contribute to humanity’s victory, sir!”
Armin Arlert shielded himself with eyelids tightly clenched, the power of his proclamation bringing his knees to tremble. Shadis is unmoving, but then he nods.
“How admirable. You will make first class Titan fodder. Row three: about face!”
The jolt of relief makes you breathe again. One more step and it would’ve been your turn. 
The boy’s blown out eyes whirl your way for a second as Shadis forcibly turns him around. The air stiffened when the instructor moved past. 
Now facing the opposite direction, you were able to examine the rows of fresh faces. Shadis's rite of passage from hell continued with a boy named Thomas Wagner, who became the chosen victim of the new column. Armin Arlert stirred beside you. Through the corner of your eye you noticed a sort of relaxation fall over his face, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. He seemed as fragile on the inside as he appeared on the outside.
His hometown rings a bell. 
For an event so tragic, he appeared delicately. No physical stress signs, or tiresome eye circles. His form was clean cut and professional, despite the obvious fear in his posture. His motive was strong, too. A heroic service to honor at such an age.
He must've noticed you peeking at him for he suddenly glanced over to meet your gaze. His large, blue irises caught yours for a brief moment before you quickly faced front. You could feel his stare linger on your form until he too returned his focus to the front.
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮
It seems everyone else was on edge, too. The intense aura radiating off Keith Shadis’s skin drove a boy to salute incorrectly, a headbutt to the forehead of an uptight cadet, and a girl breaking position to eat a simple potato. 
Such strange behavior from so many future soldiers. The question of friendship pondered in your brain; which faces you’d get along with, and the ones you wouldn’t. Three years is a long time to spend with so many individuals.
“Hello there! I’m Marco Bodt, nice to meet you!”
A sudden voice interrupts the thought. 
Raising your chin, you meet the eyes of a towering, dark haired boy with freckles dotting his cheeks. He smiles. 
Marco Bodt… 
“I’m Marco Bodt from Jinae in Wall Rose’s Southern District, sir! I plan to join the Military Police Brigade and offer myself to the King!”
He was the one standing beside the cadet who suffered a brutal headbutt. Jean Kirschtein, if you recall.
“Oh, hi.”
Marco’s grin stretched at the response. The mess hall was a quaint cabin with plenty of tables to support the amount of recruits, and yet the bench you found home at didn’t accompany anyone else. Laying atop the wood was a plate of stale bread and unfinished vegetable stew, spoon in hand with a bite. 
Following induction was the hours of dinnertime and unpacking, selecting bunks in the dormitories and changing into comfortable wear. The bunk chosen for you was the bed closest to the ladder, but what confused you was the empty mattress on your left. No sign of anyone’s belongings or note of claim. Not that it was a problem...Extra space is easy to make due with.
“What’s your name?”
You glance from his outstretched hand up to his awaiting expression. 
“..[Y/N].”
The size difference of both your hands is comical, his much larger palm encasing yours. His mouth parts to speak again-
“How big was the Colossal Titan?”
“I heard it could step over the walls!”
“That’s what my family said!”
A blazing uproar from the center of the room drowns out the other conversations. Both you and Marco peer over to spectate the growing crowd circling a particular table, a boy named Eren Jaeger seated at the head. Another survivor from the Shiganshina District, remarkably noted. 
The crouching boy beside him spouted questions left and right involving the invasion. The topic of discussion must’ve spiked curiosity all around, including Marco, who made a noise of surprise before trotting over to join the crowd. 
The skin between your eyebrows pulled together. A familiar itch in your hands drove your fingers to pick at the cuticles of your nails. Any mention of Shingashina, and the noise drowns out in a blur…
CLANG
The room abruptly hushed when Eren’s spoon dropped from his fingers. He cupped his mouth as he gulped, chin dropping to face the table. The boy crouching beside him tensed, exchanging looks with equally uncomfortable cadets. A sigh came from Marco.
“..We should knock it off. I’m sure we’re bringing up memories he doesn’t want to remember.”
The same crouching boy leaned forward.
“I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to-,”
“You’re wrong.”
Eren broke out of his trance with a yell. The loaf of bread in his hand smashed inwards from his tight grip.
“Titans aren’t actually as bad as they say. We’ll be equipped and trained with the 3D Maneuvering Gear soon, and when that happens, Titans will be absolutely nothing.”
It was unclear if Eren had hit his skull too hard before dinner or if it was ignorance. “I’m finally able to train as a soldier…I just got caught up earlier. I’m going to join the Survey Corps, and kill every last fucking Titan there is in this world. I’ll slaughter them!”
Your eyelids squint. Ignorance.
Though his determination was inspiring. A roundabout reaction to such a traumatic experience, you thought. Whenever Jean Kirschtein counters his statement with a cocky remark, however, is ultimately the time you resume your meal, drowning out the chaos in your soup.
Marco doesn’t join you again, but he leaves you with something pleasant to dwell on. 
He was…nice.
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮
“Hey, do you think Sasha will be back soon?”
The bunkmate above peeked over the edge to peer at you from underneath, black hair dangling. Lifting your head, you arched a brow.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Sasha. You know, the potato girl?”
Ohh.
It’d almost completely slipped your mind, her treacherous punishment. It’d been about eight hours since introductions, surely Shadis spared her legs by now.
“It is a little late…”
“Right? That’s what I’m thinking, too. Should we go check on her?”
Just as you were about to answer the door to the cabin flung open. Stumbling inside was a short blonde and a taller brunette, carrying a passed out girl on her back. The blonde clutched onto a canteen of water as she searched the room.
“Does anyone know where Sasha’s bunk is?”
Her sweet voice silenced idle chatter. The dangling bunkmate sat up to point at the vacant space beside you, spurring a tilt of confusion.
“Right here, Christa!”
..It’s not an extra? 
Like a mother tucking in a child, Christa dotingly fluffed up Sasha’s pillow and covered every square inch of her body with the blanket. Her boots and jacket were removed and folded off at the foot of the mattress, and beside her head slept the water canteen.
“I’ll leave this water here for her… She must be so tired.”
With that she politely excused herself before heading off to her own bunk, the taller brunette trailing behind. 
A groan and whine hummed from her throat. She twitched in her slumber similar to how a dog dreams, legs barely kicking and small noises like yelps coming with it. The girl above dangled over the side once more.
“Seems like she really outdid herself, huh.”
Not looking away, you nodded.
“..I guess she won’t be eating any more potatoes.”
The girl laughed.
“You’re funny. What’s your name?”
Her upside down stare met yours. 
“[Y/N]. Yours..?”
“I’m Mina. Mina Karolina, to be exact.”
Her wide, toothy grin rounded the corners of your mouth up. 
“..You know, leaning over like that is dangerous. You could fall.”
A blanket of black hair swished as she shook her head. 
“If I can’t handle this, then how could I ever handle the 3D-Whoa!”
A yelp whooshed from her as her body tipped over and fell hard on the wooden floor below. The weight of gravity stunned her for a few agonizing seconds, groans of pain the only indication she survived. Your head poked over the edge. 
Her pale cheeks flush fuschia. 
“I didn’t think I would actually fall…”
You scoff through your nose. Descending down the ladder, you carry her back on her feet with the pull of your hand. 
“Are you okay?”
She cradled the crown with a shaky hand, blinking a couple times to knock off the dizziness.
“..Great.”
You allowed her the pass to go up first, making sure she didn’t lose to gravity again. Curfew set in stone pretty quickly afterwards, any candlelight keeping the room alive blowing off into smoke, welcoming the moon’s seductive glow. 
You find yourself turning towards Sasha again, watching her dream in bliss. It was a bit strange to share a bed like this, almost intimate in a way. Something especially reserved only for family and friendships. Was it unusual to long for a relationship like that..?
When sleep finds you, the question is open ended.
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nightofthend · 1 year
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A little list of everything Aruani I've written
if you need my love say you want that: modern au aruani where they meet after a long period of distance
pom-poms on the toes: parents aruani!!!!!
to think the world is all ours: aruani two years after canon, in a brief respite from the world
the wind that sounds and smells like death: aruani just after eren dies, and the trek back to camp slava
some way of being human; that won't destroy: where armin is a bit faster in reaching annie after eren starts the rumbling
laid out my love like a map: before annie was in the crystal, before armin had the colossal in his nape, they were just trainees in the 104th corp
-
tagging @moonspirit, @annawayne, @distortedclouds and @diametrical-hyde (⁀ᗢ⁀)
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rosec0urtz · 2 years
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Reiner: Truth or dare?
Bertholdt: Truth!
Reiner: How many hours have you slept this week?
Bertholdt: ...
Bertholdt: Actually dare
Reiner: Go to bed
Bertholdt: I don’t like this game
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onigiri-dorkk · 2 years
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Onigiri Compilation List!
Rivamika Fanfictions:
(New!) Bending and Breaking (5.7k): A strange discovery in her room leads Mikasa to stay in Captain Levi's quarters for one night. When their imaginations run rampant, they convince themselves that it's okay to bend a rule or two. "...You only said we couldn't touch."
For Tomorrow (2.5k): While at work tending to land damaged years ago in the rumbling, two unexpected visitors rush to deliver the news to Levi: Mikasa is visiting tomorrow. A short, drabble/one-shot inspired by the newly released Attack on Titan Vol. 35 cover of post-war Levi with Gabi and Falco. (Fluff/Comfort/Humor)
Deep in the Mess Hall (7.5k): Levi discovers the doors of the Mess Hall cracked open; lights flickering, chatters echoing, voices familiar enough to tempt him to press his ear to the door. Intending to finish his business and leave, he didn't mean to overhear them talking about that, and he certainly didn't mean to get dragged into it like this. His honesty gets him into a deep mess. (Fluff/Smut/Humor)
104th's Top Cadet (4.5k): Word spreads quickly amongst regiments about a single trainee of the 104th Training Corps: twenty-years-old from Shiganshina, perfect scores on all counts. Adamant about claiming the top cadet's skills for the Survey Corps, Commander Erwin orders Levi to investigate whether the rumors are true, leading him to witness a shocking showdown between two unexpected cadets. (Humor/Romance/Action)
The Perfect Brew (5.5k): A single, hot cup of coffee helps Levi and Mikasa realize what home is to them after a life of war. (Fluff/Comfort)
Tea and Chocolates (3.3k): If there was one thing Captain Levi wasn't good at, it was remembering his squadron's damn birthdays. Guilty about forgetting his best soldier's birthday, Levi shows up at Mikasa's door to deliver a gift... a few days too late. (#rivamikamonth Week 2 Submission)
Microcosmos (81k, Rated E): After Eren disappears in Marley, Paradis Island’s strongest pair venture back to enemy land undercover to bring him home. On their lone journey across the world, Levi and Mikasa—a brooding captain cursed to tragic love and loss, and a woman afraid to let go of the fading love she’s always known—navigate uncharted waters of new love and healing amidst the war. Each clue, familiar face and enemy that comes their way leads them closer to Eren’s tail. Where could he be? What is he planning? And will they find him before it’s too late? (Fluff/Angst, Comfort/Hurt, Romance, Adventure)
Lonely Nights (5k/Rated E): On a night at sea traveling alone together to Marley, Levi accidentally finds something in Mikasa’s satchel. (Pure Smut lol)
This Isn't a Date (4.4k/Rated M): After the Ackermans are extended a private invitation to Mitras' biggest gala of the year, Commander Erwin assigns Levi and Mikasa to attend as dates. But to be clear: this isn't a date. (All Fluff)
Four More Hours (3.4k/Rated E): After a nighttime sparring session, the two insomniacs find themselves trapped in the equipment room when all are asleep. Levi and Mikasa are forced to wait until morning. Can they survive the night stuck together? (Smut, Angst)
AO3 || FF || Wattpad || Twitter
Writing Behind-the-Scenes: #onigiriwrites
Drawings/Edits: #onigiridraws #onigiriedits
Analyses: #onigirianalyzes
Figurines: #onigirifigures
(New!) Japan Travels: #onigiritravels
Anti's Fights: #onigiribitch lol!
Fanarts:
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Microcosmos story cover by @daseindigital
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Microcosmos art by @AntermarisArt (Commission)
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This Isn’t A Date fanart by @lucymeyer5 🤍
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Microcosmos fanart by @binibchielq 🤍🤍🤍
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(New!) Deep in the Mess Hall fanart by @byhimawari
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levmada · 6 months
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Hi there, since you know a lot about aot I had questions and I wondered... When people train in the training corps, do they enroll at all ages? Because the 104th was entirely made of teenagers? And I was confused by the wiki that divided the 104th in teams? Were they made up since the training days or were they made for the trost battle? Sorry for bothering it's 3 AM here and I'm confused lol
ITS NOT A BOTHER AT ALL i love lore/story questions!!! :D
you have to be at least 12 years old to join the cadet corps (season 1, eren wanting to join as soon as possible when the wall fell, 10 years old). but otherwise you can join at any age.
the 104th were divided into teams for THAT battle yeah. all four regiments took part, including the recruits.
but if you mean this?
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the top 10 are how they ranked at graduation. the south division refers to what area of the walls that set of trainees came from. the main characters trained in the south / trost, and armin, floch, and ymir didn’t get top 10.
marlo, hitch, and boris are either from the west/east/north division. it’s not clear :/
there’s a little variation with the 104th. most of them were 15, but reiner/bert/annie in particular were 16/17 i think.
i suppose after wall maria fell that you were guaranteed to have meals and a place to sleep if you just joined the military. plus, we know that shiganshina before the fall was overpopulated + it’s the case that the further out from the interior/capitol you live, the more destitute you are. so once the farmers lost their land, a lot of unskilled labor became unprofitable, and you didn’t have the money to make a life further in, a lot of people joined the military.
it’s also important to keep in mind that right after maria fell, the military sent 250k soldiers and civilians on “an operation to retake wall maria” which was just a poorly disguised mass slaughter to deal with overpopulation (that’s how armin’s grandfather died). and only 200 people made it back. so it makes sense that mainly only teens and kids would remain to join the military SPECIFICALLY in the southern division.
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angelsdevils · 4 months
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A Titan's Heartache: Marcel x Reader
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If you want to read the disclaimer please go to the initial Master list for this story.
Warning: Spoilers appear in this. If you do not want to be tagged or don't want to be spoiled please do not read this story
Word Count:
Master List | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
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If you wanna be tagged, let me know
Tag List: @missmadness123 @galactict3a @pseudophyllus @staymoarmyzen @black0pirate0cat @rl800 @reiners-milkbiddies @bobateasilverpearl @sapphire-gemm @beansofskittles cockonoi @mochalate @sunaraii
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[Marcel’s POV]
It was now year 847 and I joined the 104th Regiment Corps with Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie. After realizing that we would have more information after joining the Military Police we all agreed this would be the best action to take for now. We also decided to take our time with the mission to ensure it was a successful mission. I still carried the weight with the other warriors of the mission that had already taken a toll on our mental state. I still remember seeing all the people getting eaten by the titans. Me and Annie were running for our lives literally because we couldn’t just transform into titans like Bertholdt and Reiner was or else someone would have seen us. 
The sun bathed the training grounds in a golden hue, my gaze lingered on the towering walls of the military complex - a symbol of both the protection and confinement. I understood why the walls were necessary, to protect them from titans but at the same time, it was suffocating. Of course it was, but some people were content but I met a guy named Eren Yeager, who planned to join the scouts so he could fight for freedom. The kid is crazy, but I get it completely. In a way the Eldians of Marley were also stuck behind walls, not literally but the Marleyans treat us as monsters. I just had to remember I was doing this for my family so they could have a little more freedom.  
Morning drills echoed with the rhythm of wood meeting wood, panting, and grunts, the cadence of footsteps resonating with hope and aspirations to be great soldiers, though I was no soldier, I was a Marleyan Warrior. Amidst the training, my gaze fell upon her - (Y/N) (L/N) -  a fellow recruit whose roots seemed to intertwine with the very essence of nature. Little did I know that our paths were destined in ways I would never imagine. 
In the moments of our exercises, our eyes met. She gave me the sweetest of smiles, and I swear my heart almost jumped out of my chest. She had an air of mystery surrounding her, and I was falling in love with her with just a simple look. As the sun casted it’s rays down on us, she glowed in the light. She was soon paired with me as a sparring partner, and I wasn’t sure if I would survive this alone with how fast my heart was racing. For only the time being, I forgot all about my mission. 
“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, just because you are a girl,” I said to her. Her laughter filled the air, and I felt my cheeks warm.
“If you went easy on me, this sparring session would be pointless.”
She left me no time to respond as she charged at me. I dodged her movements, but she was like water flowing freely. She twisted her body, knocking my knife out of my hand. I grabbed her wrist, but she flipped over my shoulder, and held her wooden knife to my throat. I went to elbow her but she dodged my attack. 
We caught the attention of the other trainees, and the Chief instructor, Shadis. I managed to grab my wooden knife, but she was quicker. How could someone be so fluid in their motions and quick at the same time? Her fighting style was different yet beautiful, almost like a dance. Lost in my thoughts and going through the motions, she managed to swipe my feet from under me, and pinned me to the ground, her wooden knife once again to my throat.
“I think I win this one,” she said in a teasing tone. I cracked a smile, before rolling us over so I pinned her down instead. 
“I don’t accept defeat that easily,” I retorted. 
“Maybe you should.” 
“Huh?” I was confused, before she head butted me hard and I fell backwards, “Ow.”  I rubbed my head, but she kicked me on my back, her boot on my chest, and she stood up. I was shocked, and blushed as she looked down at me. 
“Accept defeat?”
“Yeah, I accept defeat. I think I need ice for my forehead.” 
She let me up, and smiled. She offered me a hand, and I took it standing up. 
“(L/N), where did you learn those moves?” Chief instructor asked her, and she saluted him.
“Sir, my mother and grandmother taught me. They both joined the scouts.” 
“I see, I knew your last name sounded familiar. You have a head jump on the rest of trainees then, your grandmother and mother were (mother’s name) and (grandmother’s name) right? They were one of the founders of the scouts, as well as the strongest.”
“Yes, sir.” 
Everything made sense now, she has trained probably since she was so young, her family probably taught her how to be graceful yet deadly. Shadis walked away after they were done talking. She turned to me and gave me that sweet smile again, and I smiled back. 
“My name is Marcel, Marcel Galliard.”
“(Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you Marcel.” 
She walked away to grab her water bottle, and in that moment I forgot about the mission, my thoughts were on her alone.
©[@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.
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dorminchu · 4 months
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Between Heaven and Earth: Chapter One
a/n: Merry Christmas! The next couple chapters will tie in with Nur für die Schwachen (as in, certain plot points/elements from that fic are referenced). You don’t have to read one story to understand the other.
Despite a greater disparity in technology, trading electric torches for gas lamps and subjection to bean-potato stew for the majority of their meals succeeding the government's seemingly overconfident investment in pit latrines last year, the overall mood was not so different than Marley. Trost's streets were narrow, so the new influx of pedestrians coming from Wall Maria often had to compromise among the horses and soldiers moving through. No motorised vehicles to be seen, even in Wall Sina.
Grice, posing as a refugee from Wall Maria, had quietly worked his way into Wall Rose’s Northern Division as a recruit—because he’d signed up before the new decree to lower the age of conscription, he managed to join up with the Garrison the same year they became trainees. Right now, he was stationed over in southern Wall Sina. He’d send letters every visitation day, updating the three of them on life as a Paradisian soldier.
Last summer, Annie’s reconnaissance mission into the interior turned up fruitless. All she would tell Reiner and Bertholdt was that a man from the MP Brigade saw her face. Rather than apprehend her, he’d let her get away, which had dissuaded her from going undercover again. Though the MP Brigade were the only ones allowed in the interior, they did work with the MPs in Wall Sina. None of the training academies in Wall Rose would allow enlistment directly into Mitras—you had to undergo additional training from selective military schools. If you didn’t have family in the military, or the interior, there was a specialized academy in Wall Maria. Neither position was viable, so what was the point of bringing it up at all?
Grice insisted it was better to seek a position in the MPs regardless. Before Paradis was breached, the offices were flooded with applications to the Garrison, since it was easier to get into than the Military Police and had the second-lowest mortality rate. It sounded nice, coming from the mouths of recruiters, but any position was better than the Scouting Legion. An overabundance of spending on resources with little to show for it but a seventy-five percent mortality rate. Without better funding, or a significant change in leadership, no one in his right mind would enlist voluntarily.
Unfortunately, many of the MP divisions were already plagued with decades of corruption and incompetence. Losing a third of their country’s territory didn’t whip them into shape. The Garrison was spreading itself thin, trying to do its job and the job of the MPs. It had gotten so extreme that the 104th Training Corps were routinely put to work, with Garrison supervision, at the top of Wall Rose. Better to acclimatize them with defense now, than assume that a catastrophe could never happen again.
The Scouting Legion would, on occasion, assist the Garrison, whenever they were not performing routine expeditions. But their expenses and mortality rate had gone down significantly since Wall Maria's breach. Commander Irvin was interested in reforming the Legion’s reputation. Public opinion became less hostile than it had been under their previous leader, Commander Shadis. In fact, there was a lot of speculation among the military higher-ups that Shadis favoured Irvin as a recruit, and he’d stepped down for the sake of the Legion’s reputation as well as his own tenure.
Tragedy bound the cadets together into fickle hierarchies. Privates Kirschtein and Jaeger butting heads just for the excuse to fight about something. Private Fritz smuggling in beer in exchange for swapping chore duties with anyone gullible enough to take her up on a simple favour, with the exception of Private Lenz. Most of them had no real opinion on their King, the government within the interior or their iron grip of censorship besides a passive, unquestioning resignation to dedicate their hearts to humanity. They weren’t interested in questioning the nature of the mission to retake Wall Maria.
But in their second year, Private Arlert got into a prolonged debate with the instructor about the ethical implications of the operation. Rattling off statistics in a rapid-fire, accusatory pitch while the instructor became increasingly dismissive. It came to a head, when Arlert accused the Garrison of corroborating a lot of falsified search warrants for the sake of cutting down the amount of civilians to rehouse, and was assigned latrine duty for two weeks and told to sit down before his impudence further affected his training score. Red-faced and fuming, Arlert took his seat.
According to Bertholdt, he’d lost both his parents during the operation to retake Wall Maria. His grandfather, over the course of his own life, had fostered a collection of pre-Paradisian literature and encyclopedias, and was charged by the Garrison with spreading misinformation. Their house in Wall Rose was raided. Arlert had no choice but to work in the fields, enlisting alongside his childhood friend Eren Jaeger.
Jaeger took Arlert’s side. They sat together in the boy's barracks during free-time, going over their notes on ODM maintenance from the textbook. Other, keener kids, the likes of Bodt and Kirschtein, were willing to play devil’s advocate before lights-out, but never to Arlert’s face. Most of them would agree, amongst themselves, that Arlert had been wronged, but what was the point of sticking up for someone whose argument was so one-sided? He’d be lucky to wind up as a technical instructor if he didn't crack his head open during free-climbing, or the most rudimentary ODM gear exercises.
Braun and Hoover followed them back on the same pretense of study, and now Hoover played the diplomat. “You’ll be able to change a lot more about the military’s policies from the inside. Everyone starts as a foot soldier.”
Arlert just stared at his notes and said, in a tight voice, “Every history book is dictated by another man’s biases. There’s no choice, for most, but to roll over and let the victors decide what truth prevails.” His voice shook slightly. A white-knuckled grip on his pencil couldn’t salvage his composure. “I’m not the only one who feels this way.”
"It's not that simple," Bodt chimed in. "The instructor is upholding whatever he's told to by the government. It doesn't matter what he thinks."
Arlert snapped, "What has blindly adhering to theocracy done for humanity? For any civilization, for that matter?"
"The Wallists don't bother anyone," Kirschtein said. "They just give people something to focus on besides arguing with each other. The rest of us get on, like usual."
Arlert glowered at his notebook.
Reiner looked at Bertholdt, a silent exchange that went unnoticed by the other boys. That kind of talk would get you sent to Heaven. Reiner never got to play mentor to anyone back home. He was too busy looking after himself, and scrapping with Galliard while Bertholdt kept him from straying. During their mandatory hikes, Reiner would always lag behind to make sure Arlert didn’t faint, burdened with a pack that weighed about as much as himself. These Paradisians were eager to learn from him and Hoover as much as possible. They’d sit with them during meals and before lights-out, and talk about their insignificant lives the same way Galliard and Finger used to. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start reaching back, for the sake of keeping the enemy close.
“The only way you or I can make a difference, for humanity,” Reiner said, “is to become an exemplary soldier. No single one of us can change an unfair decree, but that’s always been the nature of the world. What you and I can do, is work to become someone your friends would be willing to put their lives on the line for.”
Arlert shrugged. “The instructor couldn’t disprove what I said, so he made an example of me. Once I graduate I’ll probably never see his face again.” He averted his eyes to his notes. “I can’t argue with you. I just—shouldn’t get so worked up about it. That won't undo what's been done.”
“You shouldn't be hard on yourself, Armin,” Jaeger said. “You stuck to what you believed. That’s more important.”
Arlert’s mouth lifted into a wan smile.
Most of the 104th wouldn't make it past graduation. The ones smart enough to secure a position in the Military Police or Garrison would go underutilized, but Paradis wouldn’t really be any worse or better for it. Titans and Eldians would coexist, and the world's only mercy was its indifference.
In Marley each soldier was out for himself. Overt sympathies were discouraged. In Paradis, Bertholdt and Reiner became model soldiers who climbed all the way to third and second best of the class in three years, succeeded only by Private Ackermann. Training scores were determined by ODM exercises—so she could rely on her “kill” count and technique to get ahead. She wasn’t very talkative, but gracious, interested in learning from others regardless of their skill level.
She’d make a great captain someday, Hoover said. She’d go further if she wasn’t held back by her loyalties to Jaeger and Arlert. It was Jaeger that took to Reiner with an avid need for a mentor figure who wouldn’t treat him with kid gloves. For how often he talked of indifferent humans and cattle, he’d never once considered that the Walls and Titans beyond were meant for keeping things in. Typical, straightforward thinking with no regard for the long-term or bigger picture; the perfect candidate for the Scouting Legion, or a half-decent farmer, if only he put his mind to it. Domesticity was never in the cards, nor the peacetime that the 104th Training Corps might not live to see, only strive towards.
Private Leonhardt was skilled on paper, but when they had to lead an expedition without the instructors, Private Springer elected to follow Kirschtein instead. Private Blaus was happy to work with her during chores, but when it came to ODM gear exercises, they had a tendency to get in each other’s way. Private Kirschtein insinuated she thought herself too good for everyone else—so Leonhardt reminded him that the only difference between them was his desperation to prove himself the better candidate. If he wanted any pointers, he was free to ask Ackermann about it, because he’d clearly confused the two of them.
While her loner mentality made her unpopular, it was easier for Braun and Hoover to get to know the others, and for Leonhardt to stick to the mission.
Now, Private Jaeger had more of a death wish than any other cadet in the division. Everyone had heard about the scrappy, angry from Shiganshina. Ackermann and Arlert were always close behind, probably to make sure he didn’t wind up scraped off of a tree. He was too stubborn to live a long and happy life inside the Walls. An unexceptional student, save for his uncrushable tenacity and loyalty to the Scouting Legion.
In another life, he’d have made a decent Warrior. Leonhardt didn’t speak more than a sentence to him until their second year.
The majority of their budget went towards ODM equipment, food and space for the cadets as well as horses. When it came to self-defense, the instructors went over the fundamentals out of principle. These techniques might buy you a few seconds. Your average criminal could just as well drive the sharp end of a whisky bottle into the newly-made private’s stomach, and that would be that.
Most cadets did not go out of their way to train with her. Hoover was too leery of drawing blood and finding an excuse to hide the steam. Braun was always needling, had to be superior, and would rather spend his time with other cadets looking for a mentor. Arlert, her recent partner, kept freezing up in the middle of a feint. He'd flinch a little, when she snapped at him not to stand there and await her instructions—he’d been in fights before, but only ever internalized the desperation to stop the beating. It felt wrong to hit someone who wouldn’t fight back, even though Marleyans weren’t supposed to be merciful to the enemy. Her father wouldn’t hesitate to rap her on the shins for going soft. There was no discrimination on the battlefield, but she tripped him and let him fall flat on his ass and said, “You’re not going to accomplish anything if you won’t defend yourself.”
Arlert got to his feet. He took a shaky breath and said, “These exercises don’t really count for points. And it’s more likely we’ll be using guns or blades for self-defense against a Titan.” His eyes followed her boots, probably calculating her stance. “That doesn’t make it a useless skill, of course. But you and I are on different levels of proficiency.” Even as he said it, he tensed up again.
Leonhardt dropped her guard. “Find someone else to practice with.”
Arlert didn't think twice. She figured she may as well cut out and review her notes on ODM gear, for the hell of it. Anything was better than baking in the sun.
As she moved for the barracks, she noted Braun was partnered up with Jaeger. Better for Braun's ego and Jaeger's temperment.
“Hey, Leonhardt!” Braun called out. She stopped pace. “You can’t keep slacking off like this. Shadis'll”
Braun the soldier was a paradigm, quick to tease Leonhardt for her lack of discipline. He wouldn't let up, even when she flipped him on his ass to drive the point home. Titan or not, she could never harm him in a way that mattered. There wasn't any point expending time on him as a Warrior cadet. Why start now?
Because sucking up to the first cadet who asks for help is not going to make you into a better Warrior than I am. This exercise isn’t for points. You shouldn’t be drawing attention to me in the first place, you hypocrite.
She caught Jaeger’s eye.
Are you watching? Here’s a lesson on what not to do.
Braun, back on his feet, threw Jaeger the wooden knife and said, "Looks like you have a new teacher!" He caught her eye and winked. Just her luck.
Scowling, she made eye-contact with Jaeger and threw him the knife. “Your turn.”
Jaeger caught the knife. In the time it took for him to open his mouth and say, “What?” she’d already closed the distance. Disarmed and grounded. Easier than a dummy. His mouth split into a toothy grin. "That was amazing!" Clambering to his feet, dusting himself off, he said, "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"My father." She did not add it was a pretty basic technique. “Does it matter? It’s not what you’re supposed to be learning.”
He stared at her, eyes shining with fervor. “Let me try again. Disarm me.”
The only time she got to scrap without holding back was with Braun or Porco Galliard. In Marley the instructors were pushing a bayonet into her hands. In Paradis, a wooden knife, or a faux-rifle. Turned onto the front-lines, the Warrior cadets fought to kill, not disarm. She shouldn’t be going easy on the enemy.
The third time Jaeger wound up on his ass, she offered a hand. “You almost had it.”
“Really?” Jaeger reached out to take it; she withdrew and caught him in the stomach with her boot. He got back to his feet, staggering, a tic in his jaw. “What the hell—was that for?”
“You left yourself open.” Resuming stance, unfazed. “I bet you’ve never won a fight in your life.”
A few cadets stopped to watch. Each time she flipped Jaeger over there were cheers. Nothing like back home, always perfunctory and cold. It ended once Shadis barked at them to disperse and get back to what they were supposed to be doing. Leonhardt ended up doing laps.
Jaeger spat into the dirt and said, “I can’t keep up with you.”
“You’re right.” She walked in the direction of the mess hall. Jaeger followed at her heels.
“You could teach me,” he said, “how to fight.”
“Why should I?”
“’Cos I want to learn.” He made a face like she was being obtuse on purpose. “I’ve been in a lot of fights, and I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”
“Hm,” said Annie. “You’re not going to cry when you lose?”
“I won’t if you won’t,” he said, the light coming back into his eyes. He bumped her shoulder with his. “Next time, we’re partners. Don’t forget!”
Sparring became more of an excuse to give Jaeger a taste of the dirt, her boot, in no particular order. Most cadets would be too nervous or call out her refusal to parrot the techniques the instructor demonstrated—she didn’t need fundamentals to disarm an opponent—but not Jaeger. The light in his eyes was the same as the first time she agreed to teach him.
He still couldn’t disarm her, but he was blocking hits that would have knocked him down before. He couldn’t replicate her kicks, so he fought with his fists. He’d lost everything in that breach, and all that was left was his rage, tempering into discipline.
Jaeger ended up sitting with her during meals whenever Hoover and Braun were too busy blending in with the native Paradisians. She was never that close with them anyway. And unlike them, he would never expect her active participation unless he spoke to her first. Maybe growing up with Ackermann, he was used to sharing comfortable silences. He wasn’t even bad company. Just exuberant to the point of bordering on insufferable, especially during stretches on horseback or hiking.
While the Legion's reputation still left much to be desired, Jaeger clung to his idealism anyway. Leonhardt wasn't going to argue with a brick wall, but she could tune him out and he’d take the hint, unlike Kirschtein—who wasn’t a hypocrite, just arrogant and didn’t know how to pick his battles. Well, he’d learn the harm way, come deployment, that all the ideas in the world meant little once you’d lost most of your men to a mindless Titan.
“Mina says you want to be an MP,” he said. “What for?”
“Why do you want to join the Scouting Legion?”
Jaeger paused. “’Cos we let those goddam animals exist on the other side of the Walls. Just like any wild animal, they found a way to get in. The Garrison and MPs have been too busy sitting on their asses, while the Scouts do all the thankless work they get to take credit for.” His scowl deepened. “All the top recruits go to Wall Sina. The death rate in the Legion scares them off, but it’s a lie. That rate was from the last Commander. The recruitment officers are just using it to bring more people into the Garrison. Now there’s an overflow of soldiers that’d be better off elsewhere.”
Leonhardt smiled. “Imagine what humanity would do to itself, if those highly-skilled soldiers weren’t around to keep everyone in line.”
Jaeger shook his head. “The MPs haven’t made a difference in crime. It was like that in Shiganshina, too.” He frowned. “You never answered my question.”
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind about people who choose to be MPs.”
Jaeger blinked. “I didn’t—mean it like that.” He turned away. “It’s not just about playing soldier.”
“You’re such an obedient patriot.” Jaeger barked out a laugh. “Why do you partner up with me?” she asked, to change the subject. “If you keep following me around, people might get the wrong idea.”
Jaeger scoffed. “What idea? I just have to keep going over the moves until they stick. That’s all this is.” Despite his reckless nature, he didn’t have a lot of bruises. No scars, at least, which was a surprise. She was proficient enough not to draw blood unless it was necessary. Jaeger’s ears flushed. She’d been staring at him longer than she meant to. He looked away first. “The other guys don't get why I like training with you.” He stabbed at the congealed mass of bean-and-potato mush that should’ve resembled stew, but more closely resembled a lump of brain matter soaked in gravy. “You take this seriously when you try. And I don’t think you’re a bad soldier, even if you hate all the bullshit.”
Leonhardt’s mouth thinned. She wasn’t hungry anymore. “Thanks.”
He was looking at her knuckles. “Your hands look pretty good.”
What the hell?
He took her hand in his, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I mean, you don’t have a scratch on you. I usually cut my palm on the wire when I reach for my blades.”
His hands were faultless. She pulled away, a little tense. “That’s because you’re impatient.”
“Yeah, well—I’m getting better, now that Reiner’s giving me some tips. Mikasa doesn’t worry as much.”
Suppressing one’s regenerative abilities took discipline far beyond his capabilities. The only other way was to regrow the limb itself, which took a lot of excess energy. Newer Warriors tended to have a lot of trouble shifting while they were injured. He’d never so much as staunched a wound in her presence. 
“Where’d your father serve?” she asked, as if Eren cracked-my-skull-on-the-first-day-of-learning-the-ODM-harness Jaeger could be anything but human.
Jaeger rolled his shoulders. “He didn’t. He was a doctor.” He continued to eat in stolid silence, then paused. “Haven’t heard from him since the breach. He hardly sent letters while we lived in Shiganshina, so he’s probably busy.” His jaw tensed. “Your dad must’ve cared a lot, to teach you what he has.”
Annie regarded her own stale loaf of bread. “In his own way.”
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