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imjustasimpxd · 9 months

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My Angel (Part Two)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : around 5, 200 words

Warnings : Again, very angsty. Reiner feels guilty about what he’s done, reader is angry with him. Crying, mentions of heartbreak. Spoilers for season 4 part one.

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

❗️Important Note❗️

There will in fact be a part three! While I was writing part two, it ended up becoming so long that I just decided to split it up. That’s why this chapter leaves off on a cliffhanger (and that’s also why it took me so long to post this one). But I thank you all for your patience. If anyone else wants to be tagged for part three then let me know in the comments! :)))

“Can I please ask where exactly we’re going?” Reiner questioned, his voice lacing with a hint of annoyance as Falco gripped his arm, anxiously pulling him towards the city’s back alleys.

“I told you it’s a surprise! A friend of yours wants to say hi before the show starts!” Falco explained, glancing backward at his superior with a cheerful smile as he continued to pull him in the opposite direction.

“Is that right?” Reiner spoke sarcastically, scoffing quietly to himself as he took in the boy’s words.

What was Falco really up to?

Surely the whole “a friend wants to say hi” explanation was made up; because Reiner Braun wasn’t exactly a man you would think of as having friends.

Sure, he was surrounded by people a lot of the time, and he even had allies with whom he got along pretty well with. But even so, Reiner knew he was nothing more than a comrade to them; nothing more than a vessel to wield the armored titan.

But that was okay, because they were nothing more than comrades to him.

With being born Eldian as well as being a warrior for Marley’s military force, Reiner Braun didn’t exactly have the time, luxury, or frankly, the mental strength to seek out any social interactions beyond strictly work-related ones.

Well, at least, not anymore.

He made that mistake once, and in doing so, it cost him the demolition of a poor woman’s heart; as well as his own.

In fear that opening up to another person again might cause that beating vessel in his chest to truly see itself past repair, Reiner Braun had decided to close himself off from others, refusing to repeat those tragic events of his past.

So, with that in mind, who exactly was this “person” that Falco was happily dragging him by the arm to see?

It couldn’t have been anyone he was genuinely close with; there wasn’t anyone like that for him, not anymore at least. Any authentic connections he once had with people were now severed, collapsed by the calamity he caused back on that forsaken island.

So who on earth was he being forced to see?

“It’s just in here!” Falco said excitedly, his finger pointing toward a wooden door as they rounded the corner; one that lead to a basement stationed under an older apartment complex.

From the outside, the place looked dim and run down, its location secluded to a quiet and unfrequented street.

The very sight had Reiner scratching his head in confusion. Of all places, why here? Why pick such an isolated area to meet with him? Not only that, but why would this person send a naive little boy to escort him to this place instead of just contacting Reiner directly?

Was this a trap he was walking into?

Should he leave?

Like a flame set to brush, panic began spreading through Reiner’s veins. His free hand was gripped into a strained fist and his eyes darted in all directions, watching out for any surprise attacks.

If this really was a trap, if someone was anticipating charging at him, then he’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened. Loud groans from the beat-down hinges filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps; footsteps that belonged to a dark, hooded figure.

Reiner’s eyes widened at the scene before him, an eerie feeling twisting in his stomach as he watched the mysterious person walk out the door; heading in his direction.

Whoever it was, he thought about fighting them off, even going as far as raising both his hands in the air to assume a defensive stance.

However, that’s when he caught a glimpse of Falco next to him. The little boy had started to head towards the figure, almost as if he was acquainted with the human; if it even was human.

“Falco wait!” Reiner quickly followed in the boy’s footsteps, gripping his arm before he could walk any closer to the person. “We should leave.” He suggested, anxiously tugging on the boy’s limb in hopes to urge him back in the opposite direction.

“It’s okay Mr. Braun,” Falco smiled, quick to reassure his superior. “This is where he said to meet him.”

Who’s he? Was it that person lurking around with the cloak draped across their face? Or was there someone inside as well?

Reiner didn’t have any answers, nor did he have a definite resolve on how to react in this situation. Should he trust Falco’s judgment and allow this “meetup” to happen? Or should he grab the boy and run while he still had the chance?

The latter seemed like the best option, especially considering the fact that Falco was just a child, and therefore could’ve easily been manipulated into something dangerous.

He wanted to trust Falco’s words, but it was too risky. If something happened, the boy’s blood would be on Reiner’s hands; and he couldn’t bear the weight of any more sorrow, or any more guilt.

“We’re leaving, Falco!” Reiner insisted, readjusting his grip on the boy’s arm to forcefully pull him away from the situation.

Although, just as he’d turned around to take those first few steps, he heard something that made his body freeze, and his heart clench.

“If you’re done arguing you can go on ahead. He’s waiting for you inside.”

That voice. Reiner knew that voice.

It was the same one he used to hear nagging at him to wake up in the early mornings. The same voice that used to comfort him whenever he was feeling disheartened.

It was… the same voice he never thought he’d have the pleasure of hearing ever again…

All he received was one simple sentence, but that was all the verification he needed. There was no doubt in his mind, the voice he heard: belonged to you.

“Y/n?!” His body immediately turned around to face the hooded figure. His eyes then squinted, trying to see more than just the gentle silhouette of a pair of lips and a jawline that was exposed by the moonlight’s glow.

The figure froze at his words, saying nothing in response; almost as if they didn’t anticipate being recognized.

“Y/n, is that you?” Reiner asked again, hoping to earn a response this time.

However, there was none; at least, not a verbal one.

All he gained was a sudden flinch that occurred once he spoke that name a second time, followed by the subtle shaking of fingertips that poked out from the sleeves of the cloak.

You must’ve been scared, embarrassed; perhaps even both.

And who would blame you for it? The last time you saw him he had slaughtered more than half of your comrades. Who knows what he’s capable of now after four years have passed?

“Falco?” Reiner finally broke the silence, glancing down at the boy he was still holding on to. “Why don’t you go on inside, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

However, before the boy could open his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted. “There’s no reason for him to leave! I’m not staying to chat.” A stern voice echoed past the cloak covering your face, but that didn’t phase Reiner.

He knew it was you from the moment that first syllable left your lips, even more so now that you’d spoken a second time.

Your tone was serious, added with a hint of aggression in order to scare him off, but he wouldn’t be turned away by that. Not when this was the chance he’d been silently praying for ever since he left that island four years ago. The chance to finally see you once again, even for just a moment.

Now that this chance was finally here, standing in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip away; regardless of the tone you used with him.

“Just a few minutes?!” He insisted, taking a few steps forward in case you were preparing to run away. “Please?” He asked in a much quieter tone, his eyes practically begging for you to give in, to grant him even the smallest portion of your time.

Even after all these years he still knew how to persuade you, didn’t he? He must’ve, otherwise, your mouth would’ve never opened to let out a frustrated “Five minutes and that’s it!”

Reiner’s shoulders quickly relaxed at your words. His head then turned towards Falco subsequently, giving him a quick nod of his head: which apparently was his signal to “get going.”

Falco’s gaze switched between Reiner and the person he was apparently dying to speak to. The boy was unsure of what was going on, or who that unidentified person even was, but nevertheless, Falco knew better than to argue with his superior; so he’d comply with the orders given to him.

“S-sure…I’ll just, be inside then…” Falco spoke hesitantly, slowly backing away to walk toward the wooden door. He stopped momentarily after placing his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was waiting for Reiner to change his mind. But after receiving no signs of a change of heart, Falco reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside; closing it behind him.

The moment that wooden door shut, an unpleasant silence filled the air. Instead of partaking in the “conversation” you were supposed to have, the two of you just stood in silence.

You didn’t dare speak up. Reiner was the one who made you stay after all, if anyone should be the first to start this conversation it was him.

Your eyes were fixated on him with a calloused glare, your lips refusing to part even the slightest bit.

Reiner on the other hand, wore an expression more timid and anxious than yours.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, fingers fidgeting with each other as he contemplated the best way to start this conversation.

“I uh…” He tried to speak, but the words fumbled in his mouth, leaving just as quickly as they came.

It’s ironic, just a moment ago he was begging for you to stay so that he could have the chance to talk to you, but now that his chance had finally arrived, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

As he stood there, overanalyzing a potential response, he noticed the way you scoffed, clearly annoyed at his delay in response.

You were growing impatient with him, and if he didn’t take the opportunity to speak with you now, you’d most likely never allow him another chance to waste your time again.

So, after what had seemed like hours of silence, when in reality was more like 1 minute, Reiner finally spoke up.

“Can you take off the hood?”

Your eyes quickly narrowed in confusion at his odd request. Out of everything he could’ve asked, everything he could’ve apologized for, this is the first thing he says?

“Why?” You questioned, still unsure of his intentions on the matter.

“I just…” He began, but his words quickly started to fade out, almost as if he felt unworthy to be asking in the first place.

Nevertheless, you were persistent.

“You just what?!” You snapped, frustrated at his apparent dedication to withhold information from you; a recurring dedication at that.

“I just…” he inhaled shakily before speaking, “I want to see your face.”

You paused at his words, taking a moment to process what he’d just said. After expecting something pitiful, or perhaps even bitter coming from him, it was quite a shock to receive this: a fairly tender request.

He wanted to see your face? Why? What difference would that make?

It’d be the same one he saw four years ago, nothing’s changed; at least, not to you.

Despite asking for something which would require him to look upwards, Reiner kept his eyes glued to the ground, as if he felt undeserving to see you again. It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sigh that jerked past your lips, along with the quiet “fine” you gave in response to his request that made him finally look up.

As his gaze lifted, watching you pull that gloomy hood off your head, Reiner was met with a flashback of memories.

It all reappeared in an instant: the sound of your adorable laugh, the way your hair looked when the sun glistened across it, even the small little habits he’d discovered about you as time went by; they were all coming back, recollecting in his mind clearer than if it all happened a day ago.

Reminding him, painfully, of a time when things were simpler, when he was happier, and, most regretfully, a time when he had you.

Pulling off that hood allowed him to finally lay eyes upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. A face he used to watch soundly sleeping next to him at night, placing gentle kisses all over when no one was around.

It was the same face he used to stare at in fascination; taken back by the beautiful way your lips would curve upwards into a smile, or even the way your eyes radiated the most alluring shade of color when the sun shone across your skin.

That face was one he had desperately longed to observe once more for the entirety of four long years, and coincidentally, it was the same face that now stared him down with an irritated glare.

Absent was the sparkle your eyes once held for the man standing before you, and gone was the loving countenance you were never hesitant to grant him.

Now your face lay still, your features refusing to move even the smallest bit in case it were to form some sort of pleasant expression towards him accidentally.

Who was this woman?

If not for the fact that he had easily identified her face, Reiner wouldn’t have recognized her.

Where was the kind and loving woman he fell in love with? Was she not the one standing before him now?

No, this woman was different. This one seemed to hold an inkling of abhorrence towards him, easily provoked by just his presence alone.

Was this… the product of his own making?

Was this… what he’d turned you into?

As if he wasn’t tormented enough by his decision, now he was witnessing the consequences of his actions unfold before his very eyes.

“How.. how are you here?” Reiner stuttered, still in shock over the fact that you were actually standing there; that for whatever reason, his prayers to see you again had finally been answered.

“I’m only here in service of a friend; nothing else.”

Your response was so vague, so cold; nothing like the endearing way you used to speak to him.

“Which friend?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You replied forbiddingly. Your tone sounded so distant, so unfriendly towards him.

To think, the last time he heard your voice, it had told him “Goodnight, I love you.” But now that voice was harsh as it spoke, probably regretful of saying those very words after waking up to find out he’d abandoned you that next morning.

The difference in your tone was beginning to eat away at Reiner, straining that beating vessel in his chest more and more with each look of your indignant expression. As if you’d just picked up a shovel and started digging, deepening his guilt further than it already was; if that was even possible.

“Your minutes are up by the way, and I have to leave.” You suddenly spoke, hoping your statement was bleak enough to end the conversation, meaning you could finally leave; finally be free of him.

“Wait!” Just before you could escape, Reiner quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist, clinging to it as if his life was hinging on it. “Wait please, don’t leave…”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He deserved that. Honestly, he deserved more than that.

Call him whatever names you could think of, and he would let you, he’d allow every single one of them, no matter how excruciating, because he knew they were true; because deep down he knew he deserved them.

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Reiner.” Your words were like knives to his heart, causing the already aching organ to shudder yet again. “Whatever it is you should’ve said it four years ago.”

Was that true?

If he really did explain it to you before he left, would things be different now? Would you have understood his situation? Understood why he had to do it?

Why he had to leave?

“Please,” he implored, desperately maintaining that grip on your wrist. “Please, just let me explain it to you.”

It was pathetic, how he was begging like this, pleading for you to stay and hear him out as if he wasn’t the one that left you in the first place.

“Nothing you say will change what happened.”

He knew that was true, but in spite of that, he still refused to let you go again without telling you, without apologizing at the very least.

“I know,” he admitted, a glossy haze shimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “But please, I want you to know the truth.”

A part of you wanted to leave, to deny him any further chances to cause you more pain with an explanation. However, another part of you wanted an apology. You wanted to hear his side of the story; to hear whatever excuse he had for abandoning you. No matter how twisted, or pitiful, his reasoning was, you couldn’t deny you had questions you wanted him to answer.

“Fine then. Tell me.” You quickly adjusted your posture, staring at him with your eyebrows raised; a gesture he remembered you only used when you were serious about something.

“Why did you betray us?”

Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for since this conflict arose: his chance to finally be understood, to be seen as more than just the traitor he was made out to be.

“I was given orders,” he started, retracting his hand from your wrist now that you’d clearly abandoned the option to run. “I had no choice but to follow them.”

“And what were your orders?” Your voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was hurting to bring all this back up again; like a wound that was still fresh, still desperately trying to heal itself.

Reiner’s mouth remained shut, his head lowering as he closed his eyes, not wanting to answer your question. He knew he’d be made to look like the villain no matter what he said, no matter which way he worded it.

Did that mean he really was the villain?

In your eyes, maybe.

Perhaps you’d never accept his side of the story, never be able to see past the wretched sins he’d carried out. But regardless, even if he never got the forgiveness he so desperately wanted from you, he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. It was time to embrace it, all of it.

“They told us to sneak in and make allies first, that way we had the people’s trust and no one would suspect us.” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look up at you in fear of the face you’d make upon hearing his confession. “Once the time came, we were ordered to steal the founding titan by whatever means necessary. And if anyone tried to stop us, we had permission to silence them, using whatever tactics we deemed fit.”

Reiner’s heart felt tight as he let those words out, his shame growing stronger now that he was remembering it all, remembering what he’d done.

How did things end up like this?

He was just trying to do what he was trained to do: save the world from ruin; that’s all. But here he was now, that mission an embarrassing failure as he reminisced on his actions; the same actions that caused such sorrow for so many people, including himself.

And as if things weren’t bad enough, as if Reiner wasn’t feeling guilty already, he heard a sudden change in your breathing that could only mean one thing: you were beginning to cry.

“No, wait!” His head quickly lifted to look at you, instantly regretting it as your distressed face came into view. “Please, don’t cry.” He begged, using his thumb to wipe away the liquid collecting on your skin; which you surprisingly allowed him to do without putting up a fight.

“Don’t cry, okay? Not for me.” He demanded, despite his own eyes welling up with tears as well.

He just couldn’t bear it, knowing he was hurting you yet again.

It was almost as if nothing had changed, even after all those years. As if he was reliving those horrors of his past once more, reliving that anguish he saw imprinted across your visage when you found out he was the armored titan; the same armored titan that had killed so many of your friends.

You didn’t understand it, even now.

Was the man who used to dote on you really the same person as the one who carried out such violence and hatred against your people?

How could that be true? How could he have done such a thing, committed such betrayal against the woman he loved?

What changed? Was it something you did?

Or perhaps a more gut-wrenching explanation: he never loved you to begin with. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to give you up, maybe, this was his plan all along.

“What else?” You asked, your voice trembling in the process.

Reiner’s face quickly scrunched in confusion, unsure of what you were getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Were those your only orders?” Tears quickly began trickling down your face faster than Reiner could stop, your gaze looking more despondent than ever. “Was there really not anything else?” Your lips parted to let out a stinging sob, one that seemed like it’d been held in for too long.

It was obvious you were waiting for some sort of answer from him, and every second he delayed with a response was only tormenting you further.

But, even so, it didn’t change the fact that Reiner didn’t understand what you were asking of him; or what you wanted to hear so badly.

Your eyes stared at him in sorrow, more tears absorbing into your skin before you asked your question one last time; phrasing it differently now.

“Was falling in love with me a part of your mission too? Was I just another means to accomplish your end goal?”

Reiner’s heart convulsed at your words, his mouth agape to let out a pained gasp.

Did he just hear that right?

A tool?! Is that really what you thought? Is that really all you assumed you were worth to him?

As if you could ever be such a thing.

Granted, he understood how you may have assumed that, given the matter of his betrayal and all. But, despite that, he never expected such an absurd accusation.

There was a wide range of names you could’ve called him: a traitor, a liar, a monster; anything, and he would’ve accepted it; He would’ve owned up to it.

But this: questioning whether or not his affection towards you was genuine; that was one accusation he’d never admit to.

You were never a tool, you weren’t even a part of his plan to begin with. Falling in love with a woman of Paradis wasn’t exactly one of the orders he received when he was assigned to that mission. In fact, getting involved with you went against the sole purpose of him being there; the sole purpose of his assignment.

He was sent there to exterminate the Eldian race, to wipe out every last one of those despicable beings so that the world could finally be safe.

Falling in love wasn’t an order laid out in his job description at all, much less with a woman of Paradis. And yet, he did.

Reiner was a strategic man, he wasn’t one to easily abandon orders, no matter how difficult they may be. That in itself should’ve been enough to prove his affection toward you; because he never would’ve done such a thing had he not felt it was worth it, had he not felt you were worth it.

Nevertheless, here you were, teeth gritted in frustration as you impatiently awaited his answer.

Your face spoke only of torment, and it pained Reiner to have to witness it. The way your eyes were slanting together in an unsuccessful attempt to subdue your tears, your fingers curling into fists to help better contain your irritation, all of it was a clear sign of the repercussions his decision to abandon the woman he loved had caused.

It was just like the last time, you were falling to pieces over him once more, and Reiner couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Your gentle cries may not have been as loud and mournful as they were four years ago, but it didn’t matter; the fact that you were even crying in the first place was enough to make that twisting sensation return to his stomach; possibly becoming permanent at this rate.

Reiner stretched his arm out to grasp your hand, hoping to console you, however, you quickly backed away, refusing to let him touch you.

“I don’t want your pity!” you spat, your fragile body trembling from both the anger and suffering fueling inside. “I just want the truth! Did you ever love me?”

Was that even a question?

Yes, he was fully aware that it would’ve been hard to believe the authenticity of someone who’d abandoned you; someone who so easily decided to turn against you, as if doing so didn’t phase them in the slightest.

But regardless, ignoring the heinous crimes he’d committed, did you still believe he never loved you?

Were his actions before this messy conflict never enough to convince you of his sentiments?

What about all the times he’d hold you in his arms, whispering to you about how happy you made him feel? Did you really not believe any of that? Was he pouring out his heart’s inner-most secrets for nothing?

Or what about the times he’d surprise you with food, despite rations being low? He almost got caught stealing food for you so many times; which was unwise of him considering the fact that it could’ve possibly had him kicked out of the survey corps: meaning his whole plan to infiltrate the military would’ve gone up in flames.

Or, perhaps how he’d always try to keep an eye on you during missions, making sure you never encountered something too dangerous for you to handle. You always complained that he was being too paranoid, but it was only because, unlike you, he was aware of the kind of power titans held; the kind of pain they could’ve, he could’ve, inflicted upon a tiny human being.

All he ever wanted was to protect you, to do what was best for you. Did you really never realize that?

Even after he made Annie and Bertholdt promise not to lay a hand on you during their countless fights with the survey corps, even after all the times he put your saftey before his own mission, was it still never enough?

Even when he left you behind, did you really never consider the fact that he could’ve been doing it because he thought it’s what’s best for you?

You would’ve never been safe with someone like him, so he spared you from that danger by leaving.

Even though he caused you much pain by doing so, did you still never put that together?

“I understand if you don’t believe me when I say this,” Reiner began, “But I never stopped loving you.”

Even before any words left your lips, the doubtful look stringing along your face was enough to tell Reiner that you didn’t believe him; or were highly skeptical at the very least.

“If that’s true, then why wasn’t that enough for you to stay?”

He’d asked himself the same question so many times before. Why didn’t he just give up on his mission and stay with you? It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred that option in comparison to the one he chose.

Why didn’t he just let the Marleyans presume him dead, forgetting his life in Marley and starting a new one with you on Paradis?

He wanted to, he considered it even. But there was one factor he was forgetting that made all the difference; one tiny reminder that convinced him to abandon that option in the end: you deserved better.

If he stayed behind like you would’ve wanted him to, like he would’ve wanted to, then he would’ve been living a lie; deception would’ve been rooted at the heart of your relationship.

He would’ve never been able to fully open up to you because doing so would mean he told you the truth about his past, about where he’s from and why he came here in the first place. He’d have to fabricate every detail about his life up until this point; tricking you into believing he was born inside the walls just like you. He’d need to have an excuse for everything: why his parents weren’t around, where he was born, what his home life was like, everything.

Nothing about his life would be real anymore, from the moment he’d wake up, to the second he drifted off to sleep at night, he’d be living a lie.

Every time he’d look at your innocent expression he’d be reminded of the secrets he was keeping from you, the lies he was tricking you with; and he couldn’t live like that. He refused to live like that.

“Staying would’ve only put you in danger, so I left, taking the danger with me.”

“I see.” Your voice was strained, as if you were having trouble processing everything. The shock from seeing him again so unexpectedly still hadn’t exactly worn off yet, and with the addition of all this new information piled on top, you didn’t necessarily know what to say; or how to react.

So, instead, you remained silent, hoping some ideas might materialize inside your head as you waited.

However, you weren’t kept waiting for long because Reiner quickly took an initiative to speak once again, asking something that left you stunned,

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your head quickly flung upwards to look at him, contemplating whether or not you heard him right.

“What??” You asked, aghastly, desperately hoping you misheard his question.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He repeated, unfortunately proving that your ears were working just fine, and that you did in fact hear him correctly the first time.

He only meant it as a farewell, nothing more.

He knew this might very well be the last time he ever saw you again, so, with that in mind, he wanted to leave you with something pleasant to remember him by.

He had every intention of letting you go, he’d walk away and you’d never have to see him again afterward.

Just one last memory with you, that’s all he wanted. One last moment to reminisce on the merriment of his past before he let you go for good.

That’s what he wanted at least, but, when you finally uttered a response, he realized it might’ve been too much to ask for.

“I’m with someone else now, Reiner.”

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(YES THERE WILL BE A PART THREE. So comment below if you want to be tagged).

Tags : @thebadbatch @mvteria @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year

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i cant stop thinking about slightly wet!levi like i want to press up against him and smother him and grab at his hair and - a;sldkfja;sldkfj

full credit to @luvjiro!!!! they provided the idea and a good amount of the actual writing and exposition, all i did was stitch some of it together ♡

The Short King | Modern!AU Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.8k ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, levi fluff, suggest ending, gn!reader (i think, if i made any fem references pls lmk), roommates!au, very lightly proofread because i'm currently in class lmao

Levi Ackermann was the short king of your life and single-handedly existed as your worst crush that you had experienced in a decade. Crushes were harmless, but not when they’re cohabitating with you. He never gave you the satisfaction of a proper conversation, let alone provide you with any opportunity to chat about anything more intimate. Your feelings only grew stronger the more he denied you any opportunity to interact with him. You remember him once looking at you in utter horror when you tried to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.

Thus, cohabitating with him was literally your worst nightmare.

Being unable to handle this unresolved tension, you had elected to stay a few nights at your brothers while Levi figured out some stuff regarding your shared apartment. Choosing him as a roommate was a big mistake. Not telling your brother the true reason as to why you were not staying at your own apartment was an even bigger one.

You had not been informed about Levi spending the night at your brother’s, so you were completely caught off-guard when you found Levi Ackermann in the kitchen, completely shirtless while casually brewing his tea. You had come out in your towel after showering, so you immediately froze in place, begging in your mind that he hadn’t seen you yet.

“I want that report done and sent to the client today,” he said in an irritated tone into his phone. “If there is another fuck-up, consider yourself fired.”

Even while riled up, he was calm and cold. That—added onto his rough, morning voice—made you feel like you had literally walked into heaven.

“Shit,” Levi suddenly said, glancing over towards you, finally noticing your presence. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He found himself startled by your statuary presence and ogling eyes. You did not know who was more shocked—you seeing him shirtless or him seeing you in a towel standing in front of him. Your mind immediately started crawling into places that you couldn’t admit to without sacrificing your dignity.

“_____?” Levi called out your name, concerned with your lack of a response.

You were completely zoned out. You had not expected to see him shirtless around the house.

Levi Ackermann was a modest man, so much so that he rarely used his words, usually simply humming, nodding, or gesturing. You simply stood there, taking in the masterpiece that was standing before you. You stared blankly at his veiny arms—which were always shown off when he rolled up his sleeves—his unbelievably small torso supporting his beautiful, broad back, and his chest that looked like it was crafted perfectly from stonework. You had previously imagined what was underneath his clothing, but this was beyond what you had expected. As your eyes traveled further down, you were ripped out of your fantasizing when you heard him sharply call out your name.

He snapped you out of your thoughts as he grabbed his shirt and put it on, weaving the buttons of the soft fabric into the slots on the other side of the shirt to button it up, woefully interrupting the pleasant sight that essentially had you drooling. You were tempted to ask him to button it up a bit slower to let your fantasizing continue.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked.

It took you a second to respond.

“Y-Yes,” you said, slightly stuttering due to your amped up nerves. You felt your hands get cold and clammy from anxiety and frustrated thoughts ran through your head over why you were even feeling anxious. You’ve played it cool for months, but all of that composure and masking was nowhere to be found.

Your entire body felt cold, as if your blood stopped flowing. It wasn’t until you began walking and felt yourself holding the towel wrapped around you that you noticed that your shivering had nothing to do with anxiety or nervousness. You were dripping in water from head to toe, having just come out of the shower.

It was even worse when you remembered that you were completely wrapped in a towel with no clothes on underneath.

He placed the cup towards your end of the table, his indifferent eyes traveling up to yours. He didn’t seem to mind the fact that you were standing half-naked in front of him. He hummed and sat by the table, reading the newspaper and sipping at that bitter tea.

You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at his lack of a reaction. You had seen him and immediately began fantasizing, but it seemed like he couldn’t be bothered to care. Whether you were clothed or not had no effect on him.

Defeated, you lifted the mug and marched back towards your room.

“I’m going to get changed,” you mumbled as you shot a forced, half-hearted smile at him. “And I guess good morning to you too, Levi.”

~~~~~

When you finally came back out after lazily throwing on a loose t-shirt and shorts, you noticed that Levi was no longer in the kitchen and that the shower was running. You pulled at your shirt, having thrown it on without completely drying yourself. Your hair was still slightly wet since you completely forgot to dry it after that unexpected run-in with Levi.

By the time he came back out, you were already in the kitchen, having started the stove so that you could make yourself some scrambled eggs for breakfast. You opened the drawer to find a whisk to beat up the eggs and frowned upon seeing none. The dishes had been piling up from the past two days in the sink, untouched, and you were finally running out of utensils to use.

As if reading your mind, you heard him sigh as he turned on the faucet. You shot him a glare as he started doing the dishes. You had run to your brother’s to avoid being in the same space as him, but even that wasn’t enough to get rid of him. You had hoped he would shower and then leave, doing whatever it is that he needed to do, but that clearly was not his intention.

Your facial features softened and you watched as his short, wet hair stuck to his forehead with tiny trinkets of water falling off him into the sink, with his face completely relaxed. He stood so close to you that you could smell him. It was a mix of earthy scents, like wood, bourbon, and aftershave. Your gaze traveled to his beautiful arms, with his rolled-up sleeves revealing the protruded veins as he lathered the dish soap over the plates.

You silently wished to yourself that you were one of those plates that were being held and caressed by him.

You never thought there would come the day in which you were envious of a plate.

“Your eggs are burning,” Levi said in a low tone.

You hummed senselessly.

Seeing that you weren’t moving, Levi clicked his tongue and quickly jerked you to the side, hovering over your side as he turned the stove off.

“Tch, where is your attention at, _____?” he asked you as he frowned, looking straight into your eyes.

“I-I…” you began stuttering nervously, looking away, unable to ignore the feeling of his hand on your waist, which was still damp due to him doing the dishes. Your cheeks began to heat up due to close proximity. You couldn’t take your mind off of his hand that felt like it was stuck to your waist. You felt yourself wanting to push yourself closer against him, as your unspoken affection for each other gradually transitioned into unresolved sexual tension.

“Just be careful.”

It took you a little bit to remember that he was talking about the eggs.

You felt your heart pound harder and harder as he finally moved to step away to resume lathering the dishes that you continued to wish was your body, instead.

Fuck it.

With that thought, you grabbed at his arm, turning him around, before crashing his lips against yours. You couldn’t help but feel the sweetness of the kiss. Your hands made your way around the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you while you pushed yourself against him. Your body weight started shifting over him as he held your waist.

When you finally pulled away, you felt your blood run cold as you realized that he hadn’t moved a muscle. He didn’t move away from you but he didn’t move towards you either. You began to immediately pull away as you realized that you had overstepped, and acted based on unreciprocated feelings.

However, before you could fully detach from him, he placed one of his hands on the small of your back as he connected his lips with yours again. You quickly returned the kiss as it gradually deepened and you felt yourself actively pressing yourself up against him, trying to touch every inch of him.

Losing himself in your embrace, he caressed you by the hem of your t-shirt. His thumbs stroked your pelvic bone, with your clothing lifting from the friction. His fingers barely brushed at your skin, making you shiver in anticipation for him to embrace you further.

A low moan escaped your lips as you parted. Heavy breaths had filled the space between you. Everything else had come to a still, with only quiet breathing and the faint beating of your hearts surrounding you.

He placed his forehead against yours as he shut his eyes to take in this moment. You had both come out of the shower relatively recently, so he couldn’t tell if his elevated body heat was due to the residual heat from the shower or if it was because you were pressed up against him.

Before long, you had pulled him back into a deep kiss, pushing against him with such force that he had to use his other hand to hold himself up against the counter. You continued twisting against him until he was fully backed up against the counter as your hands traveled from the collar of his shirt and down his torso, with your touch pausing as your hands grazed over his chest down to his abs, with your fingers grabbing at the bottom of his shirt as your hands approached his hips.

His grip on you grew tighter and you felt yourself continue to heat up as he placed his hands on your back, following your movements, having his hands travel down your back before slightly pushing his hips forward towards you.

He removed his lips from yours as he began planting deep and rough kisses down your neck, causing unstable, quiet moans to escape from your lips and unsteady breathing from his in between the kisses. All of the pent up energy that the both of you had harbored for weeks currently translated into the ways your bodies were moving against each other.

Needless to say, those burnt eggs were never attended to, with your attention focused on only the sight, smell, and touch of Levi Ackermann up against you.

A/N: sorry for weird ending i clearly dont specialize in anything smut-related LMAO

tagging (i really suck at this lol): @romantichomicide95 @lovolee3 @svftackerman @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @levis-squishy-cheeks @roseofdarknessblog @anviacker

join my tag list!

#kats oneshots #levi ackerman #levi ackermann #levi heichou #levi x reader #kats levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #levi ackermann x reader #aot reader insert #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackermann x you #levi heichou x you #levi fluff

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wing-ed-thing · 8 months

Text

Stupid, Stupid, Emotionally Unavailable Erwin Smith (Levi x Reader x Erwin)

Synopsis: You knew him through his cadet years and yours. You practically grew up together and your admiration of him led you right into the Scouts. You thought your affections had been a well-kept secret. Levi thinks Erwin has known the whole time.

Word Count: 17.5k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Robbery, Knife-Violence, Violence Against Children, Alcohol, Slight Timeline Divergence, Reader is Good at Math, Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Notes: This was so fun to write I never want to do it again!

The door was still open, and bugs were getting into the shop.

You could see them from around his shoulder. The lantern at the door illuminated the sign that swung above the sidewalk. The sun had set a bit ago, and now, because of the light, bugs were entering through the open door. The steel of his blade reflected the flickering ember. You didn’t like looking at it. It made you upset, but the moths and other winged things entering the store made your guts squirm.

The stool you had been sitting on had been knocked to the ground by your ankles. You stood behind the counter. The cash register sat on the small space in front of you with just enough room for it and an area for customers to place merchandise to ring up—a hook with bags dangled on the edge.

“Are you deaf? Open the register,” the man repeated forcefully, glancing over his shoulder toward the open door. His eyes flickered around, and he slammed his fist on the counter when you did not respond. You jumped instinctively, your focus only then breaking from the swarm of nocturnal bugs. “I don’t like roughing up kids, but I won’t hesitate if you don’t do what I tell you!”

Before you could even think, you popped open the register. Your heart fluttered in panic as the man came around the counter, pushing you to the side. You fell to the ground as he ransacked the cash from the trays. He pocketed the wad of bills, not before catching sight of the small safe that sat underneath. The thief eyed it greedily, and you could do nothing as he seized you by the sleeve, dragging you up onto your feet. A hand made its way into your hair, tugging and tangling painfully at your skull as you were shoved face-first into the safe’s lock.

“What’s in this?” He let go of your hair, having difficulty withdrawing his hand as he ripped out a few strands at the root. You crumpled to the floor. “Open it!”

“I can’t!” You looked up at him with round, pleading eyes. “I don’t have the key—” A cold metal line touched firmly against your neck, causing you to swallow the rest of your sentence. A stream of tears trailed down your cheeks. You could hardly feel their warmth over the chills of fear that vibrated your entire being.

“Go open it!” As a warning, the thief pressed the blade deeper against your skin before letting you go.

You curled on the floor, mind racing at the prospect of performing an impossible task. Surely, this would be where you would die. You looked toward the front door, a part of you thinking you heard movement, hoping your parents would finally return as they told you they would after their errand. Tears hit the ground below you, soaking into the floor. And as you curled in on yourself, you hoped you would disappear into the wood, too.

A sudden blur flashed in your damp peripheral. The thief stumbled back, his weapon clattering to the floor and disappearing somewhere under the myriad of shelves. A brown-clad arm wrapped around his throat tightly as if holding on for dear mercy. From behind his shoulder came a striking blue color.

“Run!” you heard, staring into bright blue irises, “Get out of here!” Booted feet kicked from behind the man, the glimpse of a sleeve visible to you in the lantern light. You scrambled back with no strength to do as he said.

A military cadet!

The large man threw his weight backward, slamming the young cadet into the bookshelves behind him. You heard the cadet groan out in pain as books tumbled off the shelves like a waterfall. His grip on the man’s back ultimately gave out as he fell. The thief shook himself off, and just as he turned to cock his fist against the young, blond cadet, an encyclopedia hit the back of his thigh.

You stood at the opposite end of the counter, hard-cover novel raised in the air, ready to follow up on your weak throw. The look on your face was frozen in petrification as all you could do was cry. But the moment you distracted him was enough because, in the next moment, the thief was slammed down hard against the wood floor.

And that was how you met Erwin Smith.

The papers would laude him as a hero, detailing the story of a young military trainee on a late-night run through town, arriving just in time to save a child from a knife-wielding thief. The story would come and go from the papers, although you wouldn’t learn all that until later.

One of Erwin’s friends, who had also stayed late to get in some extra training, had tipped off the Military Police, who arrived shortly after Erwin managed to singlehandedly take down your attacker. Your parents returned within ten minutes of the incident, confused and panicked, as their shop had turned into a crime scene in their short absence.

You couldn’t help staring as the blond cadet, Erwin, answered questions by the Military Police. He stood straight and looked serious, more composed than you had been. The MPs had scared you so much you could barely speak, not that your talking capabilities were all that functional before their arrival. They quickly moved on to your parents, and the cadet slowly approached you.

You didn’t know how to stand. He looked so official in his uniform, cadet or not. He held his hands behind his back with an unreadable look on his face, and when he stood in front of you, he held his hand out. His neat bangs were slicked to the one side of his forehead, untouched.

“Are you alright?” he asked, the neutral expression switching from stoic to cordial. “I am Cadet Erwin Smith.” You became conscious of your stance. His back was straight, and shoulders squared, but even so, you stood just a bit taller. You shook his hand. His grip was more firm than yours. You offered your name.

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice, watching as the MPs milled around. You and Erwin stood off to the side, just two kids in the middle of something that felt bigger than truly hit home for you. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He nodded. You leaned against the bookshelf behind you, one of the shelves supporting about an inch of your bottom. Erwin continued to stand straight. He offered you a closed-lip smile and a slight shrug. “You helped me as much as I helped you.”

The two of you continued to watch over the scene, the two of you having been shoved off to one of the book-lined walls, forgotten. You watched in awe, never having seen military officers in action up close. Erwin, however, watched on with a certain knowledge glinting in his eyes that yours didn’t. You glanced from the MPs to Erwin.

“Did you want to become an MP?” you asked. Erwin hummed.

“No,” he answered curtly, his eyes glued to the officers.

“Oh.” You reached behind you, tracing the spines of the books on the ledge. You pushed a few back into place, the titles having shifted from when you grabbed and threw one.

“I want to become a scout.”

You didn’t know what to say, only humming your previous response as your gaze returned to the door. The MPs kept it open as they came and went, and the bugs came and went with them.

***

He came by the shop the next day. You caught his uniform jacket and crest as he passed by the window, the sight of him like a dream. Erwin seemed to notice you the same time you did, his thick eyebrows shooting up on his forehead as he excused himself from a group of friends to enter your humble bookstore.

You sat behind the counter on your stool, appearing taller than you looked the day before. Erwin approached you with a mixture of surprise and relief.

“I’m surprised to see you back so soon.” He stood in front of the register. “I wanted to see how you were doing but assumed you wouldn’t be in for a few days.” The corner of his lip dipped, unsure how you would react to him casually mentioning the traumatic incident from the day before.

“My parents still need a cashier,” you muttered with a few bobs of your head.

Erwin bobbed along with you. He meandered to your left, padding as he scoped out the books on the shelves. The word “NONFICTION” was painted in curly letters on a sign posted near the ceiling. He splayed a hand across a series of encyclopedias, just as you had the night before. They didn’t budge, already neatly pressed against the back wall.

“Your strength is admirable. It must be hard being back so soon.”

“You’re the cadet,” you blurted. “You’re the one with the strength. I’m sure you get into fights like that all the time.” Erwin laughed aloud, something about it still proper— at least it was to you.

“I can’t say I do.” He shook his head before facing you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That one was my first.” Erwin puffed up his chest, nose proudly in the air as you caught the twelve-year-old in him for the first time. Even so, he practically looked like an adult to you. “And when I’m in the Scouts, I’ll be sure to fight titans and explore all the land outside Wall Maria.”

“Titans?” you cocked your head to the side, not quite knowing much about the military or caring. You had heard the word in school, but your parents preferred not to discuss things as gory as Scouts fighting titans around school-aged children. There were Scouts— you often forgot they existed— and there were titans, which existed separately in your mind. As for the land outside of Wall Maria, it had never even crossed your thoughts.

Erwin’s eyebrows furrowed. You smiled at the sight, deciding you thought they looked like two caterpillars. He glanced over the shelves.

“Yeah, you must have a book on them somewhere.”

Not finding what he was looking for at the front, Erwin headed to the back. He looked over the titles quickly, his boots making a solid sound against the wood floor as he descended the row. You followed him, scrambling from your stool to chase after the double-sword crest on his back.

Erwin found a book near the back of the store. He plucked it off the shelf with a flick of his index finger. The cover consisted of a crudely drawn giant with sharp, gaping teeth. It looked real enough to you. You glanced around the empty store, nervousness causing you to sweat.

“I dunno if my parents would be okay with this.” You cast your gaze off to the side.

Erwin maneuvered around you, the open book in his hands as he settled into a nearby loveseat. You glanced around again, but you found no one, only Erwin. He stared at you from his book before waving you to sit beside him.

You sat, hands nervously on your knees. Erwin sat with the slightest slouch as he placed the back cover over your left thigh. You nearly recoiled, swiveling your head around the store to avoid being caught complicit in obtaining inappropriate knowledge.

“Titans are man-eating giants that live outside Wall Maria,” Erwin explained, pointing to a page in the book. You pouted. You knew at least that. “Preventing us from exploring things we’ve never seen before. All the things living out there.”

“But there’s nothing out there.” You shifted in your seat, bringing your knee up onto the cushion as you crossed your arms. Erwin took the rejected book in his lap with a slight frown. “We live behind the Walls because the rest of humanity was destroyed.” You recited the sentence just as you did in school, not quite knowing what the words meant. You nodded as if it were obvious, blowing a hair out of your face.

Erwin stood, leaving the book about titans on the cushion as he perused the rest of the non-fiction section. You watched him disappear behind the shelf in front of you.

“Well, why don’t we have any record of the people who came here when the Walls were first built?” His golden hair popped out from the opposite side, another book in his hands. He glanced down, taking a step toward you before stopping. “My dad has a theory… had a theory. That there was more outside.” You didn’t notice his correction.

He kneeled in front of you, placing another book in your lap. The two pages joined together to show an entire map of the three Walls. Hardly an inch at the edges was dedicated to the territory outside. You had never really bothered with the books at the back of the store—you preferred the medical texts at the front— but you occasionally reread the short fiction your mom read you when you were smaller. As Erwin knelt in front of you in his uniform, you couldn’t help but be reminded of the princes from those pages.

“This can’t be everything,” he said with certainty, but if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he was pleading. “And right now, all we know about are titans. And we don’t even know much about them at all.” Erwin scrambled back up next to you, opening the titan book again. “These tall ones could eat you in a single bite.”

His voice was laced with wonder. He hadn’t intended on scaring you, as most boys his age tended to like to do, but his words made you freeze. You studied the page, thinking back to the thief the night before. He had been a large man. There were monsters bigger than him?

“Are they all that tall?” You remained glued to the pages as Erwin flipped through them. He did so quickly, his ability to read a lot faster than yours.

Erwin raised the open book to your face, again tapping at more crude illustrations. Kicking legs flailed from the mouth of a giant with sharp teeth. You couldn’t stop the slight quiver of your lip. You put on a brave face in the presence of an older kid. Erwin didn’t seem to notice, more caught up in flipping through the book of gruesome images.

“Some are only 3 meters, but that’s still tall.”

“I’ll grow that tall one day.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I’m still taller than you.”

Erwin stayed to look through your myriad of books. He even bought one at the end of the night when you closed. And the next day, he stopped by again, plucking books off the shelves to teach you what his father had taught him before putting most of them back where they belonged. Over time, you suspected that Erwin ended up buying all of the texts he used to guide you. At the very least, he learned how to use the cash register after a few weeks. And after a few years, Erwin had become a regular at your holiday dinners.

You would see him walking from one side of your display window to the other before he entered, sometimes walking with friends. You met Nile Dok once, but given how he never entered your store again, you didn’t think he liked you very much. You spotted him the most, walking by Erwin’s side. And during times when Erwin quickly stopped to say hello to you, Nile waited on the street.

The closer graduation came, the less Erwin stayed in your shop, but he always made it a point to greet you with a promise to make up any time missed another time.

Then, one day, Erwin came to the shop in his Scout uniform. While the ensemble was hardly different from his cadet uniform, you had practically screamed once you saw him. You scrambled out from behind the counter, leaping across the storefront to wrap your arms around his neck.

“You did it! You did it! You did it! You made the selection!” you cried, feeling the rumbling of Erwin’s chuckle reverberate from his chest into yours. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing you.

“You stop that! You’re going to mess up his uniform!” your mother scolded behind you. Only then did you let go, beaming from ear to ear as you smoothed out the front of Erwin’s jacket.

“Oh, it’s going to take a lot more than that,” Erwin laughed, addressing your mother formally from over your shoulder.

He stood a good novel’s width taller than you now. You swore a few months back that you would catch up when you hit your teenage years. Erwin smiled proudly, and you were glad for him. Nile Dok stood, cross-armed on the street, as he usually did. A few other teenagers in Scout, Garrison, and MP uniforms milled about in a group.

“Me and a few buddies were headed out to celebrate, and I wanted to invite you.”

You blinked in surprise, glancing quickly behind yourself at your mother in an unspoken bid for approval. You rubbed your bicep nervously. To your surprise, she nodded. You suspected it was only because of Erwin.

“You go ahead, just be home at a decent hour.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Erwin nodded and guided you out of the store.

***

The pub was packed. Erwin’s friends had claimed a cluster of tables in the far corner, stealing chairs from the adjacent area to pull up enough seats for all of them. You stuck by Erwin, him being the only person you knew, as you found yourself utterly lost. The rest of the newly recruited soldiers had just turned the legal drinking age of fifteen; meanwhile, you, at age eleven, sat nursing a sad-looking juice that Erwin had ordered for you. They yammered on about the military, using jargon you couldn’t decipher. Even your waitress, a girl named Marie, seemed to know what you didn’t.

You sat, trying not to look awkward while Erwin and Nile chatted with her. She laughed a lot, and at one point, she even sat down at the table with you all. Both conversations proceeded to prattle on without you, trapped between military talk and more military talk. Marie seemed more than happy to indulge Erwin and Nile in their niche discussion.

“Up, the both of you, let me see them!”

The two boys rose and, with a cheerful—albeit sheepish— reluctance, gave Marie a slow turn. Only then did you realize that Nile Dok wore the green and silver unicorn of the Military Police. They faced each other, Marie cheerfully between them as the rest of the table whooped and hollered at the modeling of their uniforms. Nile glared at Erwin, who didn’t seem to notice. You looked around at Erwin’s comrades nervously, offering a slight clap of your hands before the two boys finally sat down.

“I see you brought a friend this time, Erwin.” Your head snapped up, distracted and looking elsewhere when Marie spoke. She offered you a warm smile, her face round and kind. “I’m Marie, it’s good to meet you.” You mirrored her, telling her your name in return.

“From that bookstore, you like a few blocks away,” Erwin chimed. Marie lit up in recognition.

“Oh, I love that place. My father always used to take me to pick out books.” She nodded profusely, letting her cheek settle into one of her palms. The other held a round, empty drink tray close to her chest. “I think the amount of times he’s had to read Beauty and the Beast to me has shaved a few years off his life.” She laughed, and the notes she let out were beautiful.

“Really? I might have seen you. I usually run the register,” you said hopefully, without recollection of seeing Marie before. “Small world.” Marie took a sip of ale from Erwin’s cup.

“And you’re so close—” She flinched at the flavor, and Erwin chuckled. —“You should really come by more often. I’ll have a drink waiting for you on the house. Neighbor’s discount.” Erwin cut you off before you could speak.

“Not of age, Marie, don’t do that,” he warned playfully, taking a swig of his drink. You saw Marie’s face contort in confusion.

“Oh,” she sounded, cocking her head to the side. She studied your face, leaning forward as she squinted at you. “I wouldn’t have known.” Marie cocked her head to the opposite side. “You can’t be too far off.”

“I’m eleven,” you surrendered, feeling small in a group of teenagers, “I’ll be twelve by next season.” You and Erwin only had a three-year age difference, but the gap between his birthday and yours during this season made it appear a year greater.

“That’ll be just in time for recruitment. Are you planning on joining up with the military, too? If you’re around this one, I can only imagine he’s told you all about it.” She nudged Erwin hard, and he groaned.

“Really, Marie?”

But, in fact, Erwin hadn’t told you about recruitment. Not that you had been thinking about joining the military in the first place. You remembered he spoke about it more when he was a newly recruited cadet. But as the years passed, you realized you hadn’t noticed his talk about the military— and his father’s theory— had dwindled.

“I think you know more about it than I do,” you opted, thoughts swimming. You glanced around the table. “Are you also a cadet?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she giggled, waving her hands profusely. “Trust me, if you’ve seen me run, you’d know not to put me in any branch!” You were late to the collective laugh that overtook her, Nile, and Erwin.

“Uh…” You looked down at your sad juice, fingers tracing the rim. “I might apply.”

Erwin quirked a brow.

“Really?” he questioned, “I didn’t know you were interested.”

“I was thinking about it.”

And just like that, the conversation became about the military again. A few trainees from your right chimed in about recruitment, mulling over their days as cadets and other pieces of terminology that you still didn’t understand.

Marie, to her credit, kept attempting to pull you back into the conversation, changing the topic every so often to include you. But just as the chatter had gotten away from you, it got away from her, too.

She was beautiful and seemed kind, and you understood why Erwin seemed so taken with her.

***

Time passed slowly for you but apparently did not for Erwin. After checking the clock for the umpteenth time, you discretely rose from your chair. You left a coin by your half-empty cup for the pathetic juice. You tried to interject in the discourse for just a moment, but as you expected, you were utterly tuned out. You bid a polite farewell. Erwin didn’t notice. Marie caught your eye as you took two steps away from the table, wordlessly asking if you were alright, and with an equally silent affirmation, she turned back to the group.

You made it home. You tried to busy yourself with tasks around your room before you found yourself back in the downstairs bookshop. You always thought seeing it locked from the inside was funny, that something about the closed door transformed the space in a way you couldn’t describe.

The street grew darker on the other side of the glass. The name of your family’s shop displayed itself backward to you, but the letters were correctly cast in the shadow of the setting sun. It would be completely dark by the end of the hour.

You lingered at the back of the store, standing in the second half of the non-fiction section. One by one, you pulled books. Titans. Architectural analysis of the Walls. Cartography. You remembered reading copies of them with Erwin as he explained things to you.

You sat with them in the dark, pages splayed over open spines as you tried to decipher them. You tore through line by line, flipping as frequently as Erwin had, trying to understand his infatuation with the mysteries between the lines because you were certain that Marie understood in a way you didn’t.

You held the book about titans on your lap, staring into the crudely drawn illustrations as you had with Erwin three years prior. You remembered what Erwin told you. You could probably have recited what he taught word for word, yet you still wouldn’t have understood.

A shadow cast itself across the floor. You recoiled back into the darkness behind the bookshelves. The figure outside pressed itself against the glass, looking in. Despite the elongated form, you recognized a familiar silhouette of hair.

You peeked out from your hiding place. Erwin was pressed up against the front glass of your shop, hands cupped around his eyes. You retreated, holding your back against the shelf behind you as you pondered your subsequent actions. For once, you weren’t excited to see Erwin Smith at your door.

He knocked. You waited a few moments, breathing slowly and hoping he would leave. He knocked some more.

It was only when you heard him sit down on the pavement that you went to collect him. Erwin perked up at the sound of the latch unlocking, quickly scrambling to his feet as you opened the front door of the bookstore. He looked surprised.

“I was worried about you,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know where you went. You didn’t say anything.” Your heart palpitated, seeing him in his new uniform still a dream to you. And better yet, he had remembered you after all and cared enough to come find you.

You stood in the shop doorway, holding the door against the front of your shoulder. Erwin remained close to you, almost as if waiting to be let in.

“I did,” you assured him. “Marie said goodbye to me on my way out.” Kinda. He glanced between your face and the positioning of the door with a slight frown. “Thank you for inviting me. I’m glad you finally got to join up. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Goodnight.”

“Wait—” You moved to close the door, but Erwin quickly gripped the width of it. You didn’t fight him for it. He pursed his lip. “I’m sorry.”

Mixed emotions swirled around in your chest. An urge to tear up tugged at your sinuses, and you didn’t know where it came from.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Erwin.”

It had turned to night. The street where Erwin stood had been overtaken with dim lantern light, and the moon overhead was full. A few clouds passed over his head, floating fast across an otherwise clear sky.

“We could’ve talked about something else.”

Even in the darkness, his eyes shone with the reflection of the moonlight. The blues of his irises glinted with an acute solemness. They flickered up, and as you followed them, you found a small hoard of winged bugs buzzing around the top of the doorframe. Wiry bodies smacked against the wood and the ceiling, not knowing the difference between outside and indoors.

“I guess I’ll have to become a cadet.” You met his eye, and he held the same surprised expression from the pub. Surprised and impressed. It was an attention that you liked. “So I can understand what you’re talking about next time.” So that you’ll take me seriously. The corner of his lip twitched.

“That’s a poor reason.”

“Well—” Your gaze flickered from the Wings of Freedom crest on his left breast pocket. —“What about all the things outside the Walls?” The solemnity in his eye had sparked into a blaze instantly, yet the rest of his features surrendered nothing. “You told me about them a while ago. You think you’re the only one who wants to see them?”

You recited it perfectly. You would have believed you, too.

“You know,” you continued, glancing back toward the back of the shop and the stairwell leading to your upstairs apartment. “They’d be thrilled if you stopped in. If you’re up for it, that is.”

Erwin didn’t say a word as he pushed the door with a warm smile. You moved to the side to let him in, locking the shop back up behind you.

***

He tried to talk you out of it more than once.

Erwin liked to ask, “Are you sure?”

And you would always answer, “Never been more sure in my life,” before distracting him with something else to get him to drop the topic. But for all your huffing and puffing, you couldn’t say you disliked the attention. Whenever you brought up your intentions for recruitment, Erwin always fell for your bait.

You spent three years in the Cadet Corps, just as Erwin had. You donned the same uniform you had grown used to him wearing. The warm smile Erwin had shone when you first showed him had you riding a high for the following two weeks.

You wrote to him often. Erwin was, after all, a full-time Scout now, and you were busier than ever— training monumentally more taxing than keeping the register at a bookshop, to a lack of your surprise. He offered instructions on how to best perform in ODM gear, how to coil your wires so they don’t tangle, the places to keep stupid clean for inspections…

You kept them in your gear, papers folded to display certain sections of his notes as you practiced morning to night on your skills. The writing grew worn, and the stationery wrinkled from times that rain fell while you were out and then dried again when you found yourself at a fireplace.

He told you about expeditions and when he departed. You had a theory that sometimes he forgot he was writing to you at all. You owned pages of Erwin dumping his thoughts onto paper, long ramblings about nothing and everything all at once. You spent your nights trying to understand because there was undoubtedly something more profound than his words. And after a thorough session of overanalysis, you drafted your responses in perfect synchronization with his, line by line.

His last letter came in before he was sent off on another monthly expedition. Erwin had addressed it, “My Dearest.” You admired how he wrote your name in the following space, observing where the pen lines were thickest and thinnest.

“By the time you receive this letter, you will have already made your branch selection. Congratulations. I wish I were there to celebrate with you as you did with me…” the letter read. The collection of pen strokes shot through your heart. You let the note drop onto your dorm vanity as you vibrated with glee. You caught sight of your reflection in the mirror and then the Wings of Freedom crest on your breast pocket— just like Erwin’s.

You drew your own stationery, ready to reply to his letter, line by line, as you always had. This time, you intended to give it to him in person.

***

The gates opened at an odd time in the evening. Which, given the nature of the Scouts, certainly couldn’t have meant anything good. You waited with bated breath at the headquarters in Trost, watching as your fellow Scouts trudged up the hill. You kept out of the way to avoid being put to work by a supervisor who’d perceived you as loitering. After scanning half of the crowd from your upstairs perch at a hallway window, you finally caught sight of a familiar blond.

You made a break for the stairwell, sliding down the winding railing at the behest of a few passing officers, and dismounted into the courtyard with a start. Meandering horses and soldiers passed you, your singular standing presence parting the group like a lodged stick in river water.

You instantly spotted him, a wave of relief passing over you that he had returned. The feeling faltered as you saw the gauze wrapped around his forehead and left arm. It didn’t take long for Erwin to spot you in return. His brows raised with joyful surprise before settling into something much more sentimental. You offered him a salute, the first in your new Scout uniform. He saluted you back, the reins of his horse in his hand.

“You really did it,” he said, riding up before you. He gestured with his head. “Walk with me to the stables. I want to hear all about it.” You obliged.

And so continued a long history of following Erwin Smith.

***

On the other hand, Levi Ackerman didn’t seem to like you very much. Granted, he didn’t seem to like anyone much outside his two friends. You didn’t blame him, given the way that Erwin had strongarmed the three of them into the military.

“You’re the one who serves the tea,” Levi said as more of a definite statement than anything else. He stared down at you from a step up, his two friends sitting together in the barracks behind him. The scorn in his voice almost made you take another step down, and his thin brows twitched slightly in confusion. He glanced back at his friends, who both shrugged simultaneously.

“I’m a team leader under Section Commander Erwin?” you clarified, which made Levi scowl deeper for some odd reason. You repeated your name, but Levi didn’t appear to be paying much attention. A buzzing sounded from the lamp hanging just outside Levi’s door. A long-legged insect fluttered around the light. Levi stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

“I always see you serving tea.” Your skin burned with embarrassment. You fidgeted, lightly folding the papers in your hands. Did new recruits really think you were just there to serve drinks?

“I wanted to give you these,” you glossed over the implication, offering Levi the stack of small papers in your hands. He looked at them skeptically but ultimately took them from you. Levi flipped through them briskly, bored gaze passing over carefully hand-written notes and detailed diagrams. They looked old. “I had help when I first became a Scout. And training is tomorrow, and I know the three of you were kinda singled out, so…” You didn’t know where you were going with that.

“Thanks.” Levi continued to stare you down.

“Well, that’s all. I hope they can help.” You made your way down the steps of the barracks hastily. Levi watched your back as you retreated into the darkness.

***

“I guess you didn’t need those notes after all.” Given that this wasn’t your squad, Levi was surprised to turn around and see you. You stared past him and up into the trees of the training forest. After your delivery to Section Commanders Hanji and Flagon, they quickly returned to headquarters.

“Hurry up, Newbie.” Flagon had called to Levi, but you had insisted that he could return with you instead.

“Your matters are urgent, Section Commander. Let me take something off your plate.” And with one last pout, he obliged you.

“They were helpful enough,” Levi said, polishing his gear. If anything good came from his current situation, it came in the form of standard-issue cleaning and maintenance products. “You keep thorough notes for an errand-runner.” You laughed, although Levi couldn’t tell if it was sarcastic.

“Expedition Command is no joke, and besides, it let me catch the tail end of your practice.” You sat down next to him. Before the Scouts claimed this section of the forest for training purposes, someone had placed a picnic table out by the tree line. You sat with Levi on the bench, heaving a deep sigh. “Unless you’re complaining about getting time away from Flagon, which, in that case, I can take you back now.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You leaned back against the table, enjoying the view over Trost and Wall Rose, glancing at Levi, who was now tending to his grips. The sun had begun to float back down to the horizon, although you still had a few hours before it completely set. Peak heat was starting to dissipate, and the light cast a myriad of pastel colors across the thin mass of swirling clouds overhead. You reached into your boot and, retrieving a folded paper and a pen, turned on the bench to study Levi’s reverse grip.

He glanced up from his polishing, double-taking your rigorous notes. You had already drawn a diagram of how Levi held his swords.

“Can I help you?”

You glanced up at him and back down at your notes. A few equations littered the margins. The numbers were small. A few of them were crossed out. Complex diagrams depicting vectors and force lined the bottom.

“Your reverse grip might be revolutionary. I heard Hanji say so. No one’s ever done it before.” Your face lit up much more subtly than Hanji’s did. Hanji had practically passed out on the spot. “Standard techniques might damage your wrists long-term.” You turned to him with a light smile. “Maybe we can troubleshoot it sometime.”

Levi set his gear down, resting his current fixation on his lap. He observed every inch of your face, suspiciously taking in every fold, pore, and curve. Perhaps Erwin knew of his plan for assassination and sent you to do recon. But something about you gave him the slightest doubt of his suspicion.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, the scowl on his lips no more severe than usual. You would learn quickly that it happened to be the face Levi always made. You cast your attention back toward your notes, calculations, and diagrams, shrugging.

“When you join the military, a lot of talk can go over your head. Things can be a little cliquey that way, unfortunately.” You held out the page to him. “It’s rough because it’s based on my estimations, but this might help.” Levi’s nose wrinkled, and he made no effort to take the note.

“I don’t want your boot paper.”

“Not a fan of footnotes?” Levi didn’t laugh. You stifled the goofy smile that fought to overtake your lips. Terrible puns aside, Levi had never seen that expression while you were pouring tea. You put the scribbling into your breast pocket.

“I’m not a fan of gross, sweaty paper from someone’s boot.”

“Fair enough.” You stood, stretching as you continued to stare out towards Trost. You pivoted to face Levi, who had just finished wrapping up the rest of his gear. “Are you ready to head back?”

You mounted your horses, and Levi had to admit that riding back to headquarters with you likely marked his most pleasant experience since joining up with the Scouts. No supervisors were around to talk down to him. No one was screaming. It was just the two of you traveling through wildflowers and tall grass.

Levi stared at the back of your head as you naturally took the lead. You sure had a lot of faith that he wouldn’t slit your throat and ride off, Levi thought. He rode up next to you, his unfamiliar horse jerking to the side.

“You gunning for some job in the rookie— whatever— school or something?” Levi leaned forward to meet your eye. The question left you puzzled.

“The Cadet Corps? No.” Your mouth puckered in thought. Levi veered ahead, your horses slowing down as you traveled carefully down a decline. He scoffed.

“With your thorough lesson plans. What’s even the point of being here?” he jeered.

“Most of that was actually Erwin’s.” Levi perked up at the mention of his target’s name. “We used to exchange letters when I was a cadet. He helped me get through the academy, so I compiled everything into more organized notes. And, well, I expanded some.” He hummed, saying nothing as you entered Trost.

A few people waved to you. You waved back with a smile. Levi continued to follow you down the busy streets.

“You keep showing those titans who’s boss, Lieutenant!”

“I certainly will, Mr. Flynn. Say hello to Mary for me!”

The farther Levi rode with you, the clearer it became that you knew just about everyone. Even the stable boys regarded you casually, taking your horse in immediately as you made small talk. Levi had several questions about you, but none of them would distract him from his mission.

***

That was until the expedition happened.

Levi made himself scarce during the following days, and with no one close to him, no one sought him out to bother him.

“Maybe I should stop by.” You stared out the window of Erwin’s office. He hardly looked up from his paperwork, humming to himself as his distracted brain worked to register your comment.

“Hm? Why’s that?” You stared off in the direction of the barracks. Given your position, pulling Levi's schedule wouldn’t be too difficult. Your eyes focused on your reflection in the glass, and as Erwin sighed and turned to face you, you met his reflection. “Feeling sentimental for my assassin?” You scoffed, turning around. Your knees bent, allowing you to lean on the low windowsill.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Erwin swiveled his head with a playful roll of his eyes. His mouth remained in a stoic line.

“You’re heartless.”

“You? Calling me heartless? That’s funny when you’re straight merciless. Assassin or not…” With a jump of his brows, Erwin turned back around to his paperwork. —“Oh, and thanks for letting me in on that, by the way.” You glanced back outside the window with a slight pout. “Someone’s ordered a hit out on you, and you don’t even bother to tell me.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know next time.”

“Erwin.”

“Hm?”

You had lost his attention again, probably for the better, given that Commander Shadis wanted the paperwork under Erwin’s hands on his desk as soon as possible. You meandered across Erwin’s office, plucking open a side cabinet to reveal all the fixings for a cup of tea. He perked up at the very sound.

Erwin waited for you to start preparing it.

“Would you make me one?” He craned his neck, hoping to catch today’s selection— as if it wasn’t Erwin’s very own tea collection. You didn’t look at him.

“No.”

Erwin’s face fell with an acute shake at your outright refusal.

“Why not?”

You turned with reluctance, the tea already in your hands, ready for brewing. A vein twitched in your forehead.

“Because new recruits think my only job is to bring you tea.” You didn’t miss the little smirk that glitched onto Erwin’s lips. Another bob of his eyebrows. His pen flew across the pages.

“Oh really? And who told you that?” He glanced up at you, another tease at the tip of his tongue. He would only talk this way with you. “Would it be a breach of power if I ordered you to bring me one?” The annoyed tensing of your shoulders filled Erwin with amusement.

“I’m sure Commander Shadis would love to know that you’re abusing your power over your team leaders.” You walked over to Erwin’s desk, and sure enough, you held a second cup of tea. He graciously took it in his hands with a polite nod.

“This is why you’re in my squad.” You held onto the handle.

“Hopefully, not the only reason.” After a beat, you relinquished the cup to him. Erwin thanked you. You sat on the front of his desk, the both of you taking a sip of your drinks simultaneously.

“Oh, I’ll be seeing Marie at the month's end.” You nearly choked. That was a name you hadn’t heard in a while. You didn’t think Erwin had seen Marie again since the beginning of his time in the Scouts. If he did, it wasn’t information you wanted to know. “She sent me a letter recently. She says she has big news that she wants to share with me.”

“Will Nile be there?” you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Erwin shook his head.

“Not as far as I know.” You hummed into your tea, not wanting to sound too invested.

“You haven’t seen Marie in quite some time. I’m sure seeing her again will be very nice.”

“I think so, too.”

When you finished your drink, Erwin was filling out the last page. He held his teacup in one hand and penned his signature on the last of the paperwork with the other. You gathered it all in one big stack, and with relief, you retreated from Erwin’s office.

***

A pounding came at your door later that evening. Its force made you dart onto your feet, and as it sounded again, you scrambled for a weapon to answer the door with. Opening the door to your unknown visitor turned out to be rather anticlimactic. Levi pushed directly past you, making a beeline for your kitchen.

“Uh, hello…?” You stood at the door in a set of comfortable civilian clothes and a sizable combat knife in your hand. It was late, after all, to be having unexpected visitors. He only stopped raiding your cabinets for a moment to scold you.

“Shut the door; you’ll let in the bugs.” Not knowing what else to do, you complied with his request. Levi stood in your kitchen, a canister in his palm. He turned back to you with his usual deep frown. “Really?” He held the canister up and shook it before raiding your cabinets some more. “The Scout’s resident tea servant, and you don’t even have anything of quality.”

You gaped at the sight in front of you. Unlike most officers, you didn’t live in standard issue housing within headquarters. Rather, the Scouts owned a few apartments in the surrounding buildings. You happened to get placed in one of those through sheer bureaucratic bullshit, but you certainly weren’t complaining about not having to live in a glorified dorm fifty steps away from where you worked.

Still, you huffed at Levi’s audacity, storming forward to slam your hand against the counter extended in front of you.

“Didn’t you grow up in the sewer or something?” you shot back, earning another glare from Levi.

“Yeah, so it’s a goddamn testament when I say this shit is shit.” Nonetheless, he continued to brew the tea. If you were honest with yourself, you were a bit sick of tea for the day. Levi crossed his arms, his bangs falling in his face. “Do you still have that page from your shoe?” You stood, blinking for a moment.

“The… footnote…?” you wondered with a genuine seriousness. Levi rolled his eyes as he grumbled to himself.

“Whatever. Whatever you want to call it. Do you still have it?” He slammed one of your cups in front of you, and by some miracle, the tea didn’t spill over the sides. Levi took a sip from his, physically recoiling as the liquid touched his tongue. He slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah…?” You still didn’t follow. Levi dumped his drink down your sink.

“Get it for me.” From seemingly out of nowhere, he tugged out your notes. Levi slammed them down on the counter, letting the pages splay out. “I want to work on that reverse grip.”

***

Sitting with Levi at your kitchen table as he read over your notes, something about it felt familiar. A single light dangled overhead. Your two plates had been pushed off to the side, the pastries from the market being the only thing Levi seemed to approve of in your apartment. Your tea had about an inch left in the cup. Levi had settled on a blend you didn’t know you had, grumbling something about it being shit but less shit than your shitty tea.

He sat at your kitchen table for hours, following silently along as you walked him through your notes. He wanted to know everything, what every term meant, every figure and diagram. You explained it all as you relived your old notes with older eyes.

In a way, you couldn’t help but be reminded of Erwin and the way he used to teach you.

“I don’t understand the difference here.” Levi slouched over a comparison of two diagrams. “They look the same to me.”

“The difference is that instead of your first knuckle bearing all the force, it would be evenly distributed across your finger. You can bend your fingers the way you have been, but you risk breaking them.” You pulled up another page, layering the two so that the pictures lay one on the other. “And this rotating motion will allow the remaining force of your strike to be absorbed throughout your entire arm once you hit something solid instead of breaking your fingers or shoulder.”

Levi nodded silently along, eyes darting elsewhere as he thought to himself. He mirrored the motion in the air.

“Doesn’t that feel more natural?” Levi hummed, and you didn’t think twice about taking hold of him to guide him in the motion he had been using in his swordsmanship. “As opposed to this. You can feel it right here, can’t you?” You patted the underside of his bicep.

“Yeah, I can.” You stared into his eyes, the sudden realization coming over you.

“Oh, sorry.” You recoiled your hands from him. He returned to studying the papers.

“It’s no problem…” he trailed off. You watched as he pondered to himself, and you subtly checked the clock. The time he had been there wasn’t much of an issue to you; you were just surprised you had talked for so long. No wonder you were all out of ideas for him. You were about to tell Levi just that when he spoke again, “You are wasted in your position.” Your head snapped toward him, wondering if you heard him right.

“What?”

Levi didn’t hesitate to repeat himself.

“You’re wasted as a glorified errand dog,” he asserted. “I don’t know much about the ranks and shit around here, but I know for damn sure you deserve section commander or higher.”

You were stunned and silent. Levi sighed, taking it upon himself to start clearing up the dishware from the table. You shook your head.

“I don’t—”

“You know, I don’t really care if you don’t agree.” Levi moved past you, rolling his sleeves to work on the dishes. “And I’m not going to try to convince you either way.”

Levi’s departure from your apartment was uneventful. After he finished putting away your dishes, you handed him the newly-thickened compilation of notes, and he was out the door. His words about your wasted potential kept you up that night until you overthought yourself to sleep.

***

Once an assassin sent to kill your closest and dearest friend from childhood, you now thought of Levi Ackerman as more similar to a housecat than anything else. He showed up at your doorstep once. You had given him terrible tea and a decent pastry once, and that had turned into a terrible habit of him showing up to your apartment unannounced at least a few times a week.

“It didn’t feel right,” he muttered the next time he stormed through your door. A few of your notes were fanned out in his hands, wrinkled from how he held them in his punishing grip. He wore his full ODM gear on top of his civilian clothes, with filled sword sheaths and all. You just about screamed when he drew a blade. Levi remained focused on the notes. “You said the new technique was supposed to relieve tension, but I’m still getting aches in my knuckles and my shoulder.” You continued to watch his sword.

“Is my apartment really the best place for your ODM training?”

“It’s not like I’m tearing up the place; even if I did, the Scouts would pay for the repairs.”

“Out of my paycheck,” you muttered.

“Better yours than mine. Show me the technique again.” Levi sighed, shoulders dropping in annoyance as he finally lowered the page. He gritted his teeth, tilting his head back in exasperation. Yeah, Flagon was right. Levi really did look like a thug. A moment passed until he deflated, blowing out hot air as he fought his signature scowl. In your opinion, he wasn’t doing a very good job. “...please?”

You sighed, setting aside whatever task you were doing.

“Look, I’m not a trainer. It’s just theory and a mishmash of stuff I know, which can only take you so far.” You crossed your arms, gesturing at him with a shrug of your shoulder. Levi blinked at you, unbothered. “Okay, show me what you’ve been doing.”

That extra set of ODM gear sat compiled in the corner of your already small living room, which Levi had brought a few nights back to practice his basic motions with. You didn’t ask where it came from.

(He had even hidden an extra set of clothes at your place, although it was likely that he had told you where he was stashing them, and you weren’t paying attention or forgot. Both were likely.)

You stood again at Erwin’s tea station, holding an unopened container in your palm. Given the times it had been passed over, you safely decided that Erwin didn’t like the blend. You held it up in the air.

“I’m taking this,” you proclaimed.

“Go right ahead.” Erwin shifted in your peripheral. “Late nights?” He took a comb to his hair, squinting at his reflection in the window. You reckoned he looked pretty goofy from outside, given anyone was watching the windows.

“I guess you could say that. I was told that my tea sucks.” Erwin chuckled, smoothing his bangs out over his forehead one last time.

“Well, I’m honored you’ve decided to raid my stash to turn the tides.” He came around his desk as you closed the cabinets. You pocketed the tea, and Erwin came to stand tall and straight in front of you. He puffed out his chest, his newly laundered dress uniform looking crisply ironed. “How do I look?”

You adjusted his collar. You never did make good on your proclamation to grow three meters tall, and now Erwin stood in front of you with a decent advantage in height. Not that it mattered now as adults well into their twenties, but it struck you how much time had passed.

“You look as handsome as always. I think Marie’ll just…” You took an inhale, putting on the best smile you could. “Marie will just be so happy to see you.” You picked up the mixed bouquet from his desk and handed it to him. “Good luck. I hope you get home safe.”

“And you—” Erwin glanced back up from the tea stashed in your pocket to your face, a coy look about him. —“I take it you have evening plans as well?”

“Hardly,” you laughed bitterly, picturing Levi’s frowning face. Erwin leaned back on the front of his desk, carefully holding the bouquet for Marie by the bound stems. And as he sat, simply staring at you, your smile faltered as you dared to think his expression resembled something sentimental.

Erwin had changed; as much as you liked to think he looked the same as he always did growing up. To you, he did look the same. You saw him just about every day for the past ten years, and the small details of his face had escaped you. He used to have full cheeks, you realized. Now, his face looked far more defined. You wondered when he developed such angular cheekbones.

“You like your bad tea.”

“Wait, you think it’s bad too?”

“I’m just saying to not get too invested in a guy who criticizes your tea, that’s all.” Erwin shifted his shoulders, pulling on the front of his collar before smoothing it out again. You scoffed.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t consider myself ‘invested’ in any sense of the word—” You stopped short. Erwin was staring again, a self-satisfied smirk threatening to give him away.

“So there is a guy.” You protested at the smug waggle of his eyebrows. You searched around your vicinity for something to throw at him. Finding nothing, you reopened the tea cabinet and hurled a teaspoon at Erwin’s head. He ducked out of the way with a light chuckle. “Easy. You know, I really ought to have a word with this tea critic of yours.”

“There’s no guy. And why do you assume it’s a guy anyway?”

“I know you better than anyone else, for one.” Erwin bobbed his head in thought. “And so, I’d like a word.” The clock chimed, alerting you to the next hour. Erwin stood, and you left his office together. You frowned at him as he locked the door from the hallway, not forgetting the bouquet in his hands for a second.

“What’s it to you anyway? You’re off to see Marie.”

Erwin pocketed his keys, eyes avoiding yours.

“When you have the same tea for so long, some wiseass shouldn’t be waltzing in talking about things they don’t know about. That’s all.” You took the canister out of your pocket, studying the label with furrowed brows.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so passionate about tea.”

Red moved somewhere in front of your face, and as you looked up, the red blur had become a single flower plucked from Marie’s bouquet. Erwin offered it to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for expedition prep,” Erwin said, breaking you out of your trance. You took it in your hands.

“See you tomorrow.” With one last faint smile, Erwin disappeared down the stairwell.

***

You didn’t have a vase. You had never been gifted flowers before, so the single flower Erwin gave you sat in the nicest, tallest glass you owned. Due to the wide mouth, the stem flopped to the side, displaying the petals at an angle.

You sat at your kitchen table, having just had dinner. An empty plate moved off to the side, you rested your head on your crossed arms, lost in the makeshift container. You tried not to think about how Erwin’s night with Marie was going.

You had seen her a few months back, accidentally running into her somewhere in the market. She told you that she didn’t see many of the old group around— not that you were a part of it in the first place— but that you should join Nile in visiting her at the pub. She owned it now. You went a few times during your cadet years, a part of you wondering if perhaps the two of you could be friends. It never clicked through no fault of your own or hers, and you stopped as soon as you graduated.

With a groan, you buried your face in your arms before snapping yourself back up again. You plucked your black, beat-up leather notebook from the adjacent shelf, and with a pen from a nearby jar, you flipped to one of your pages in progress.

A neat list of Levi’s complaints with the reverse grip sat on the left side of the page, and a jumbled mess of lines interweaved to point toward possible solutions. Some arrows were crossed entirely out, with new lines overlapping them. Unlabeled microcalculations littered the spaces in between, left unfinished when you got to a point where you could do the math in your head.

You stared at the book for a while, scribbling and jotting things you knew were half-hearted ideas. Your guesswork littered page after page until the ink began to stain your fingers, and just when you were starting to get sick of looking at your writing, a firm knock sounded at the door.

It thumped three times exactly, and you buried your face in your hands at the prospect of having to keep thinking about this stupid reverse hold technique. But you brought it on yourself. Naively, you wondered if you could convince Levi to do something else. He seemed like he could be easily persuaded to clean your kitchen. Maybe you could read a book or perform some other leisurely activity you haven’t had the time or energy to do.

“I left it open,” you moaned, “Just don’t expect me to feed you—”

You had expected Levi, but when the door opened, Erwin stumbled through. He held the door with a lazy grip, the front of his long jacket completely undone, exposing his white button-down and dark-colored slacks. His face drooped in the way that most people did when they had too much to drink. Erwin hardly drank, let alone overdrank.

You immediately jumped up, running to the door to support him. Erwin practically collapsed in your arms when you came near, his dead weight almost forcing you to the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, anchoring the both of you firmly to the ground below. Your door didn’t quite close, allowing a sliver of light from the outside lamps to enter your apartment.

He smelled strongly of whiskey. You tried to pull him away to talk to him directly, but he didn’t budge, head buried deep in the crook of your neck.

He just held you wordlessly.

“Marie is getting married,” he said, hardly above a whisper. Your cheek moved against the hair just behind his ear as you turned in surprise. You rubbed your hand gently between his shoulder blades, your other tracing the back of his collar. He tightened his grip on you, refusing to move.

“Oh, Erwin…” You sighed, and you felt him shake once. “I’m sorry.”

After all this time, he was still in love with her.

And you knew it, too. You’ve always known.

You knew it when you went to his graduation dinner.

You knew it when you found his unfinished love letters to her when he was promoted to Section Commander and got his office.

You didn’t know what you were apologizing for.

You let him find comfort in you, taking the time he needed in your presence as you stared off at where the wall met the ceiling from over his shoulder. You felt something deteriorating in you like a slow spiral that settled into what you could only describe as heartbreak. A few tears prickled at your eyes, but you refused to shed them.

After an eternity, Erwin finally rose, the withdrawing of his grasp also withdrawing his warmth. He let out a huff, almost in disbelief of himself. The only evidence of his crying soaked into the shoulder of your shirt.

“Go sit down. I’ll bring you tea.” With another labored breath, Erwin nodded. He slipped out of his jacket. You took it off his shoulders to hang up by the door. He placed his shoes neatly underneath, slowing impressive dexterity for a man who might not remember the night in the morning. Erwin popped open a few buttons on his shirt as he went to sit.

You went to the kitchen, preparing your beverages with the same tea you had always used. He took it from you graciously.

“I only have tea that you don’t like. I thought I’d opt for the familiar one.”

“I can’t say I have the right to be picky,” he laughed lightly, staring at his rippled reflection in the cup. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem. What else are friends for?” Erwin watched as you set your cup on the coffee table before you.

“Yeah… friends.”

He glanced around your apartment. He hadn’t been there for quite some time, but even so, little had changed. Your kitchen table sat four, but the one you sat in every time was the only one not neatly pushed in. You have had the same water kettle since you first joined the Scouts. He remembered when you bought it. You were worried that you got ripped off, but more than ten years later, it still did the job. Pages of handwritten notes were designated into piles across every surface, some better hidden than others.

“That’s not your ODM gear,” Erwin pointed out, observing the pile of gear in the corner of the living area. Even if it was yours, keeping swords and sheaths in one’s living area didn’t align with standard policy.

“Oh, um.” You followed his gaze. “I was doing some experimenting, I guess you could call it.” Erwin took a sip of his tea, beginning to sober up some.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Hanji,” he joked, his smile fading as he played with the cup's handle. “How come you never told me about it?” Erwin leaned forward, taking a paper from a pile on your coffee table, nursing his steaming beverage as he glazed over it. He flipped it over. “You weren’t kidding…”

“That’s not even all of it.” You stood, running to grab your journal and the myriad of pages from the kitchen table. Moving your tea out of the way, you splayed it on the table. Your complex mathematics, crude diagrams, and painstakingly thought-out theories. Erwin poured over it all.

You expected him to say something, but he remained quiet. He flipped the pages over, revealing just as sophisticated backs.

“These are our current techniques for Titan-Engaged Combat,” he said, almost to himself. He set his empty cup down. “And you calculated the most efficient navigation for the best gas conservation and highest striking power… Where did you get these numbers? Who taught you this?” Thrown off by his questions, you almost smiled.

“Do you remember the closest shelf to the register at the shop? The first half of the non-fiction section?”

He did remember.

And all this time, Erwin had only thought about what he could teach you.

“I never knew you did this.” He flipped through your journal. It dated back years, and judging by the near identical ones that lined your bookshelf, he guessed it wasn’t the only one. “It’s impressive. It could be, well, life-saving.”

You thanked him awkwardly, not used to sharing your hobby with anyone. Erwin sat back against the cushion of your couch, studying your work. You leaned an elbow back, sitting on your side as you slung your legs over his lap to read with him. And then he laughed, letting his head fall back, and the page drop to your knees.

“What’s so funny?” you asked. Erwin’s chest rose as he breathed in deeply.

“Just Hanji, huh?” he exhaled, another laugh breaking up the stream as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. Erwin shook his head, his typically neat hair turning just a bit ruffled. “I was worried for nothing.”

“Worried? Why were you—”

You didn’t know how it happened.

Erwin’s nose nudged against yours. You felt him lean toward you, and like that, you let him kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed. He was gentle, and his lips were smooth. It was clumsy at first, but you quickly learned to follow his lead, falling into a rhythm as his hand ran up your jaw and as far as it could into your hair. You had waited for this moment for so long, but now that it was finally a reality, you couldn’t stop that nagging, sad, and confused pit in your chest.

“Erwin?” Your eyes remained closed as he kissed the side of your mouth, leading a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw. You found yourself quickly, taking him by the shoulders and pushing him back, holding him at arm’s length as you stared into his wide, lost blues. You shook your head slowly, repeating his name softly. “Erwin.”

He flinched back from you instantly, hands flying again to his face. Erwin rubbed at the skin around his eyes, brushing aggressively over his cheeks and through his now messy hair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Erwin drawled in a voice you had never heard before. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your knee dipped into the cushion under you as you reached out, trying to place your hands on his. In a stroke of irony, you weren’t allowed to say anything at all.

“Do you not know how to close a goddamn door? You see all these moths—”

All the three of you could do for a second was look at each other. Erwin sat up straight and alert, ready to stand at any second against your intruder. You had shot yourself to the opposite side of the couch in a moment of instinct, and Levi slowly closed your door, making sure the latch clicked.

You shot up after the momentary shock wore off, instantly taking Levi by the sleeve.

“Now’s really not a good time.”

“Is it, now?” Levi stopped, not letting himself be tugged along. He made a point to glance at the cups of tea on the coffee table and back at you. He sent a pointed glare towards Erwin. “Having some evening tea, are we, Erwin?” Erwin stood, arms crossed, as he regarded your new guest.

“Levi,” he acknowledged.

“Levi!” you hissed, tugging him back toward the door. You held it open, practically pleading with him. “Out!”

With a final glare toward Erwin, Levi shrugged your hand off with a jerk of his arm and left. By the time you turned back to Erwin, he was already beginning to collect his things.

“I should probably be going, too,” he sighed, slipping on his jacket.

“Erwin, wait, I—”

“I’m sorry. What happened tonight was inappropriate and extremely unprofessional, especially for a superior and subordinate officer—”

“Erwin, please, can we talk about this?”

“I will see you in the morning for expedition prep.”

You couldn’t stop him as he left.

***

Erwin arrived at the meeting with Expedition Command just three minutes early with Miche in tow. You had been waiting for him outside, several copies of his requested documents organized neatly in your arms, watching other senior officials enter the meeting room. Ever the one to be at least a half hour early, Erwin arriving to a session on time struck you into a panic. You nearly called someone, convinced there had been an emergency. But with five minutes to spare, you heard him from down the hall. You knew his gait anywhere.

He strode with purpose down the hall, jaw as squared as ever and weight to his step. Your heart jumped, the events from the night before still fresh in your memory. You hoped to talk to him after everything had been squared away from the next expedition.

You had bolted up from the bench you were sitting on and stood at attention with a salute. Erwin regarded you coolly, never dropping an ounce of his collected and upright professionalism. You tried not to let the fact that he treated you differently in private whip your thoughts into a frenzy, but his avoidance of your eye wasn’t something you could ignore.

“Ah, you brought the copies. Perfect. Miche can take those from you.” Erwin walked past you, the slight breeze of his quick pace flowing through the tips of your hair. You hardly noticed as Miche towered over you, hands ready to receive your papers as instructed. You craned your neck, looking at Erwin’s back as he approached the meeting room doors. “You are dismissed.”

“Section Commander? Am I not also on this meeting, too?”

“There’s no need for there to be two team leads here, not for meeting this early in advance.”

“But the expedition is less than a week away—”

“Team Leader,” Erwin snapped, turning toward you. His gaze was lidded and cold, and his lips drew into a tight, untelling line. “You are dismissed.”

His words lodged in your chest, swirling around your stomach until you became nauseous. You didn’t remember saluting him or handing Miche your copies. You heard yourself say, “Yes, sir,” but you didn’t remember speaking.

You hurried out of the hall as quickly as possible and then out of Headquarters completely. And with a single stop at your apartment, you rode out of Trost on horseback.

***

“Graah!! Agrahhh!” You slashed your way through the compilation of dummies stationed on the forest floor, each outfitted with durable, twirling arms made specifically for sword training. The force of your cuts caused them to spin with a force of equal magnitude to your strike. You screamed into the training forest, scaring a few birds overhead who flocked out of the leaves above.

Hot, concentrated air blew out your nose as you maintained your labored breathing. You swung your swords, burning red-hot as you made your way through the training area, the sound of metal clashing filling your ears with a piercing scratching sound. Your muscles knew where to strike before you could even process the rapid turns in front of your eyes.

You ducked under a spinning arm, driving your swords up in an arch.

Why were you taken off of the meeting with Expedition Command?

The arm fell to the ground. The force of slicing it off cramped your thumb, giving you another reason to scream and cry out as you slashed at the remaining dummies with reckless abandon.

Why did Erwin refuse to talk to you? If you let him continue, would he have demoted you like this?

The very thought of demotion made your blood boil, your rage launching you to conclusions and your swords in all directions. You weren’t even thinking about your swings anymore.

All these years following, pouring tea and making copies while Erwin wept over a woman he hardly made an effort to pursue? Turning down Hanji’s offer for a promotion within their ranks for this? For a man who never even saw you in the first place—?

An arm from one of the dummies hit you dead in the face. The velocity at which it spun ensured an instant and solid crack in your nose. You shrieked again as you felt a warm stream of blood pour from your face, your last strike sending the offending arm flying off into the forest. And with a final fit of rage, you sent your swords flying, too.

You dropped to your knees in the middle of the busted-up training circle, frustrated tears falling from your cheeks as you brushed your wild stray hairs from your face. You took a second to feel sorry for yourself and another to pop your nose back into place before you went to retrieve your swords. If you kept bleeding, you would reluctantly ride down to Trost to see a medic.

“You should really watch where you throw those things. You could’ve hurt someone.”

As if your day wasn’t bad enough…

“Leave me alone, Levi.”

You could have cried seeing him. Hell, you were crying anyway. Had it been anyone else standing at the edge of the training grounds with your swords, you might have snapped and wailed at them, too. Levi held a stoic expression on his face if not his usual frown. Not wanting to engage, you reloaded your grips with new swords from your sheath.

You turned back toward the training dummies, giving some half-assed swipes to the spinning arms. They didn’t rotate nearly as fast as they just were.

“People are looking for you.”

“Since when did you become an errand dog?” You spat, still refusing to look his way. Tears were still streaming down your face; no matter how you willed them to stop, they just kept coming. You heard Levi shift somewhere behind you.

“I dunno,” he answered, “When did you start sleeping with your boss?”

You whirled around instantly, eyes puffy and teeth clenched as your face contorted in barely restrained rage.

“I don’t! We aren’t—” you barked, the clasp where your swords fit into your grips clattering just slightly from the shake in your hands. You tugged out a portion of your shirt from under the straps on your shoulder to wipe away the wetness from your eyes. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Your newly attached swords dug into the ground adjacent to your feet, and with new tears came more swipes of your sleeve. With your vision so obscured, you didn’t even notice Levi approach you, the reins of his horse in one hand and yours in the other. The sudden appearance made you jump a bit. Levi had thrown your old swords into the dirt. He offered the reins to you again, holding out his arm.

“Let’s go.” His voice was low and soft. Your brow furrowed, your brain still in a fog. Levi spoke before you had a chance, almost reading your mind. “We’re not going back to headquarters.”

You collected yourself with no time to be embarrassed over your display of emotion. You didn’t know why you followed him. Rudderless, you didn’t know what else to do.

***

You tried your horses up between two narrow areas somewhere in Wall Sina. The thin pathway opened up to a broad, square area hidden between the tall buildings. The height of them made the ground below appear dark. Levi led you through the thin maze of alleys until you finally arrived at a slender, rock-faced building with a wooden door. The shudders were open, allowing sunlight to illuminate the wooden floorboards below your feet.

Looking around, you couldn’t tell what the establishment was. There was a bar, but nothing appeared to be behind it. Tables lined the sides of the room, but there weren’t enough to accommodate many customers for dining. A woman sat at one of them, a broom in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She made half-hearted attempts to blow her smoke out the open windows.

Levi exchanged a brief look with her before marching into a room behind the bar. You stepped into the center of the room, lining your feet up with the orb of light that reflected onto the center. You finally noticed how scuffed up your boots were.

Levi was back instantly, motioning for you to follow him up a set of stairs to the left of the bar. By the time you even reached the doorway, he had already managed to make it up two flights. Random items littered the landings, obscuring your path with folded tables, cases of liquor, and assorted cleaning products. You stared up the winding railings, jogging along quickly to follow.

The stairs led to the roof, where Levi was already sitting at a beat-up table for two. A few clotheslines sat behind him with linens blowing in the wind. A mixture of other assorted items was pushed off to the side. A table missing a leg sat upside down. A few broken lamps lay strewn across the rooftop, among other evidence of broken things abandoned. Levi had already poured wine into two tall-stemmed glasses.

You sat on the chair closest to the door, back tense and your bottom at the edge of the seat. Levi swirled the wine in his glass, an ankle slung across his opposite knee as he looked out across Sina. He didn’t speak, let alone acknowledge you. You took the wine in your hand, giving it a swish as he did before bringing it tentatively to your lips. To your surprise, you enjoyed the flavor.

“You didn’t think I’d choose a shitty wine, did you?” Levi lounged back on his slotted wooden chair.

“I just didn’t take you for one to drink, I guess.”

“Fair enough. I don’t make a habit of it.” He placed the glass back on the table with slender fingers. You still held yours, not knowing what to do with your hands. You stared down at it, and the various items littered the ground within your field of vision. You ignored your peripherals completely, avoiding having to look at Levi at all costs.

“You just drink nice wines whenever you please?” you asked absentmindedly, not really looking for an answer. He crossed his arms, adjusting how his shirt sat on his shoulders.

“I guess you could say I have an eye for quality.” You missed his lingering glance, letting the silence between you fester. Levi, all for silence on any given day, was unbothered for the most part. But for once, he wasn’t simply content to let the quiet pass him by. “You and Erwin are close, huh?”

“Please, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you groaned, squinting your eyes closed as you cringed to yourself.

“I don’t ask for my sake, believe me.” Levi played with the base of his wine glass, tracing the circular shape with the pad of his finger. “Who else are you going to talk to?”

The simple question struck you. He was right; you didn’t think you even had anyone else you could talk to about Erwin. There was Hanji, but as a fellow section commander, talking to them about personal matters might overstep some professional boundaries— not to mention if they decided to report Erwin’s abuse of power to the commander. Team Leader Miche didn’t seem to be the type to give the sort of advice you were looking for either.

“We knew each other as kids,” you found yourself blurting after another sip of wine. Levi settled farther into his chair, ready to listen. And he did, patiently drinking his wine as you told him all about how you first met, the holiday dinners, the day Erwin selected his branch, Marie, and the letters. He remained quiet for most of it, only interjecting occasionally to ask questions.

“Do you even want to be in the Scouts? Or is it just because of him?” he asked, somewhere between your recount of the celebration dinner and Erwin’s promotion to section commander. You had never thought of it before. You chose to join to be close to Erwin, and now, having spent almost your whole life in the service, you weren’t sure you could even make a distinction.

“I think in the beginning, it was because of him. And now that I’m good at what I do, I’m not sure where else I would go,” you sighed. “And if I’m good, then why change now, I guess.” Levi scoffed.

“That’s a poor reason.” His words made you chuckle.

“That’s exactly what Erwin said when I first told him I was going into the Cadet Corps…” you trailed off, the smile on your lips fading slowly. You found it funny: your best friend was giving you the cold shoulder; meanwhile, you were venting your frustrations to the man who was sent just a month ago to assassinate him. You kept talking until there was nothing left to talk about. “I don’t know when I fell for him.”

“Well, you’ve always been in love with him. I’ve barely known you for that long, and even I can tell that much.” You nodded along, trying not to take his words as a blow to your pride. You accidentally met his eye. “And I assure you in no uncertain terms that Erwin has been very aware of that, too.” You cringed again.

“You think so?” You buried your face in another drink from your glass.

“Do I think you’ve been breadcrumbed along by an emotionally unavailable jackass so he has an emotional support blankie? Yeah, I do think so.” Every word struck you through the chest. Levi frowned as deeply as ever, a genuine frustration painted on his brow. You wondered if it was your naivety that made him so angry.

“I wouldn’t say I’m in love with him,” you said, only partially convinced yourself. Levi didn’t even humor you with a response.

“Hm.” He stood, empty glass in his hand, as he stretched out his lower back. “I’m going to give you my unsolicited advice, but I’m only going to say it once.” Levi turned to face you as you still sat. His head blocked the sun perfectly from your eyes, a halo of sunbeams shooting out from his short strains of black hair. “If you’re going to stay, at least stay for a good reason. Not because of some schmuck who can’t make up his mind.”

He held his hand out to you, not making a show of doing so. You took it.

“Wow, Levi, who knew you could be so soft?”

“Tch, remind me never to try to help you again.”

***

You thought about what Levi said almost religiously in the days leading up to the next expedition. And as your administrative responsibilities gradually dwindled, you had much more downtime.

Erwin only spoke to you when necessary, and even then, his words were far more sparing than they needed to be. The passive comments should have hurt more than they did, but your racing thoughts only served as a shield to numb the dull ache in your chest.

A week until the next expedition turned into days and then a singular day. All the while, Erwin remained your section commander and nothing more.

The last meeting had adjourned. Commander Shadis had called a gathering of the four section commanders and their team leaders, as was usual before expeditions. Erwin had departed quickly, speaking urgently to various other officers on his way out. He avoided you expertly, ensuring you didn’t have an opportunity to approach him after the discussions. As he made his way briskly down the hall to his office, he heaved a light sigh, he too wrapped up in his thoughts.

He tugged open the door to his office only to find you already sitting behind his desk. Erwin couldn’t help his pause and the apparent surprise on his face, but he didn’t let the expression linger long.

“Can I help you, Team Leader?” He regarded you formally and coldly. You frowned, standing to shrug off your jacket. You folded it so the crest didn’t show before tossing it across the width of Erwin’s wooden desk.

“I’m not coming to you as a team leader, Erwin.” You tried to not let your shaking show, equal parts of you mortified and invigorated by your audacity to gatekeep a section commander’s desk. Judging by the steepening frown on Erwin’s lip, he had little patience for it. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Things have been busy.”

“None more than usual.” You matched his frown. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I heard you the first time, Team Leader.”

You didn’t imagine Erwin would openly converse with you so easily, but you also didn’t expect his outright icy refusal. You had never made Erwin angry before; in fact, you didn’t think you could recall a time that you weren’t in his good graces. Now, as you stood in direct defiance of his passive-aggressive avoidance of you, you felt shaken to the core and tried not to let it show.

“You still want to talk about work? Fine.” You sat back down in the chair behind Erwin’s desk, the joints at the base shifting. It felt unnatural here with him across the room where you usually stood. “It’s in poor taste to come onto your subordinates, Section Commander.”

“And yet, that’s not the part you have an issue with.”

He studied you for a moment, and with reluctance, he tugged off his own uniform jacket, throwing it on the leather couch to his side. Erwin squared back his shoulders, unconsciously adjusting how his clothes sat under his uniform straps as his arms coiled over his broad chest. Yes, he had grown significantly over the years and had the sculpted muscles to show for his decade of ODM training.

“It was unprofessional.”

“Cut the crap; you made it clear that isn’t what we’re talking about right now, so stop pulling your punches.” He spoke as levelly as ever, the most calculated bite in his voice so as to not give away his seething frustration.

“You seemed happy to see Marie again.” Your voice began softly, slowly gaining momentum as you continued. Your voice was starting to shake, forecasting your incoming tears. “Then you had the audacity to drink yourself stupid and crawl to my doorstep, and only when you knew you couldn’t have her did you even look at me.”

Erwin said nothing as he stared forward with a hard, sunken face. He didn’t sit, perhaps in the same way you couldn’t will yourself to stand.

“Is that it?” he spat disapprovingly, almost bored. Your resolve wavered with just three words, him perceiving you as childish, as he seemed to typically do.

“Is that it?” You repeated, aghast. “Did you just ask me, is that it?”

“You’re impeding me from my work because you’re jealous.”

“Of course I’m jealous!” You jerked forward in the chair, hardly realizing the tending of your legs and the curt gesturing of your hands. “And how dare you try to diminish that. When you’ve known this whole time how I’ve felt about you.” You didn’t even try to hide your open sobbing. “Because you knew, and you never felt the same.”

“Hung up on things that don’t matter.”

Your parted lips revealed clenched teeth as you continued to shamelessly meet his eye.

“I would have followed you to hell and back, and I have—”

“And so has every other soldier under my command—”

“I’m not just a soldier under your command, Erwin!” A clap of silence overtook his office. Erwin’s back faced towards you as he aggressively rubbed at the back of his neck. You were standing out of your seat now, hands on the surface of his desk. “We’re friends—” You wiped the stream of wetness from your cheeks.

Erwin heaved a deep, low breath, the sound heavy enough to fill the air.

“Things are different now.” He was struggling, but he kept it together better than you were.

“You had a place at my dining table for years. You knew how to work the register at the shop.”

“Things are different than back then.”

“Are they?” you asked bitterly. You held your hands together as if in prayer, resting your forehead against them. “When did they change? Because I—”

You were cut off by the exasperated sound of your name. And by the time Erwin turned around, his face was red, frustrated, and puffy. A few strands of golden hair hung over his forehead as he looped a thumb in his belt.

“Things are different in the service. It’s why I couldn’t be with her, and it’s not different with you! We are here to serve and die— there is no other way out— and I need you to understand that!” He was shouting, screaming. Erwin leaned slightly toward you, one leg in front of him. “You don’t understand how instantaneously you could be taken from me! No, you didn’t understand when you joined the Cadet Corps, and you don’t understand now!”

You were both a mess, physically worn, and voices hoarse from yelling. You had drenched Erwin’s desk. You stared down at the puddle of tears, the hem of your jacket in your watery sight.

“I joined the Survey Corps for you. To be with you.”

Erwin strode to the door with what looked to be a shake of his head. In an instant, you were around his desk, running after him as you usually did, but you weren’t quick enough.

“We all have our own reasons for being here. You’ll find a better one.”

He shut the door in your face.

***

It felt dull for an expedition day.

Exhaustion tugged on your eyes. Having had poor sleep the night before, you woke up two hours earlier than you needed. The gathering of horses outside the gates, waiting for them to be heaved open, made you antsy. The looming dread felt akin to the moments before an exam when you were back in the Cadet Corps.

But you didn’t have time to reminisce, as in an instant, you were off through the gates, then across the plains. The pop of smoke guns was the only thing anchoring you to reality, as even the harsh rhythm of your horse couldn’t quite pull you out of your haze.

The formation held as you crossed the land, making it into the forest and just past the point you had roughly achieved the last expedition. That in itself would garner the expedition as a success. Even despite potential casualties, it would hold weight in justifying further funding.

But the luck you had in conquering your titan encounters soon ended as the entire formation was flanked, and everything was plunged into chaos. As the formation broke, the field was filled with screams and the whinnying of horses.

Commander Shadis always kept Erwin close, an in turn, only Erwin’s teams remained close to the center of the unit. No one died in Erwin’s squads. You rode along, torso close to the back of your horse to avoid being hit by flying debris.

The retreat had begun.

“Team Leader, look out!”

You didn’t hear it in time. A tremendous hand flew out of nowhere, smacking your horse from under you and crushing your right leg. Your vision became a jumbled mess of earth, animal, and blood as you were sent rolling across the field, jumped over by other retreating soldiers. You shot up immediately but were forced back to the ground before you could even stand. Your leg was bent at an unnatural angle, the worst of it hidden under the cloth of your uniform pants.

A titan loomed overhead, it’s shadow eclipsing you as you sat helplessly on the ground. You turned in the direction of the retreating soldiers. Time seemed to slow as you met Erwin’s eyes.

He had only turned to look over his shoulder for a moment. You saw as his lips parted in terror. You watched as he began to veer his horse to turn back, the strands of her mane moving with the motion of her pivoting head. She whinnied loudly over the sound of gore and battle as she fought against him to run as fast as she could away from the man-eating titans, with or without her rider aboard. All within a matter of milliseconds.

He could see it all in your wide eyes.

The very last things he said to you swarmed him all at once.

Then, a spray of blood. A slide to the straps holding your sheaths.

The hand that reached out to you fell to the ground. The titan fell forward, and before you were crushed, an arm wrapped uncomfortably around your ribs and pulled you to safety. You were dizzy. The rhythmic thumping of another horse continued to rattle your brain as you were splayed uncomfortably across the back just above the front legs. You tried to pull yourself up to look around, but a hand forced your head down.

“Levi?”

“Shut up and keep your head down.”

Yeah, it was Levi.

***

You were taken to the infirmary as soon as you returned from the expedition. You spent the night there, and when Levi wasn’t out doing his duties as a soldier or getting you food, he was with you. He was sitting next to you reading a book when Commander Shadis knocked on the door to your room.

You tried to salute him.

“You’re injured, soldier. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stood in the center of the small room, subtly looking for a place to sit. You made wordless eye contact with Levi, and with a small grunt of effort, he stood and took his leave. Commander Shadis took his seat.

“Am I in trouble, Commander?” you asked nervously, shifting up on your pillows.

“No, no, nothing of that sort,” he assured you, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a few folded pages. You thought you recognized the writing on them. He stopped quirking an eyebrow at you. “Unless there is, of course, trouble that you’ve gotten yourself into that you’d like to report, Team Leader.”

“Not at all.” You let out a breathy laugh. “You just look like you’re here on business. I guess I was just a bit—”

“Nervous?” Shadis interjected, his shoulders bobbing as he chuckled to himself. “My commander just about scared the living crap out of me when I was a soldier. But I’m not here to reminisce.” Shadis unfolded the papers, and as he laid them at the edge of your bed, you realized that the writing was yours.

“I am here to offer you the position of section commander.” You could only describe the expression he wore as proud. “I’m just sorry the proposal isn’t more formal, but what can you do in this line of work?” You gaped at him, still trying to piece together what he said in your mind and how he obtained your notes.

“Maybe this is shooting myself in the foot, Commander, but—” You knitted your brow at him. —“I didn’t think my performance has been all that impressive. Team Leader Zacharius—”

“Has already been offered the other position,” Shadis interrupted. The corner of his lip twitched downward in a skeptical pout. You supposed you both felt as if you were missing a piece of information. “Section Commander Smith put in a glowing recommendation for you in addition to these. He and I believe you could live up to your potential best out from under his command.”

“Section Commander Smith wants to get rid of me,” you jested, a convincing smile on your face as you pondered over what was said in Erwin’s meeting with Shadis.

“On the contrary, I’d say he’s reluctant to see you leave. Or at least that was the impression I received.” Shadis rested an ankle over his knee as he sat back in the flimsy hospital chair. “Section Commander Smith was adamant about your abilities, both on the field and in this secret hobby you’ve been keeping.” He gestured to the pages he brought, taking them in his hands. “If I had to scold you for one thing, it is that you’ve done us all a disservice for not bringing these forward.”

“I sincerely apologize, Commander.”

“But myself and Section Commander Smith have done a greater disservice by not seeing this brilliance, not fostering it, sooner.” Shadis gathered the pages together and placed them on your bedside table, eyeing the rest of the pages Levi had brought for you to keep busy. He turned back to you, hands clasped between his knees as he leaned forward. “What do you say, Team Leader?”

Your voice stalled in your throat.

“I don’t even know if any of those will make a difference on the field.”

“Have you not been helping Levi Ackerman on his reverse-hold technique? He took out ten titans alone during this past expedition.”

“I feel that should be attributed to Levi’s— I mean, Ackerman’s— prowess rather than anything I did.” Shadis sat, staring at you as a growing disappointment clouded his face. You averted your eyes. “And Section Commander Smith saw his talent and recruited him in the first place.” Shadis said nothing, only heaving out a steady sigh. You sat in silence for a beat. “I’m sorry if you’ve been deceived into thinking my abilities are greater than they are. I don’t want to deceive you further.”

Shadis sighed again, standing.

“The only one who’s been deceived is you,” he hummed. “I would very much like the opportunity to invest in your skills, but I am not about to take a chance on someone who doesn’t even believe in themselves, you understand me?” You watched the crest on his back as he approached the door. “I will leave you to think about it.”

***

When you were finally released, Levi helped you to your apartment. He didn’t allow you to do a thing.

“Hey! What did I say about getting up on your own?” He scolded from the kitchen. Something that smelled good bubbled on the stove behind him, filling the immediate area with steam. You smelled the air, ready to take guesses at what he was cooking. Levi stopped in the middle of chopping something on a cutting board with rigor to shoot you a pointed glare.

“I have to get used to the crutches eventually. Don’t you think it’s been long enough?” You hobbled out of your bedroom, content just to be out of bed. Levi frowned, eyeing you for any hint of a tumble. A cotton apron hung around his neck, another item he had fished out from the depths of your kitchen cabinets. He put the knife down on the cutting board but remained where he stood.

“Tch, says you and your shitty perception of time.”

Just as you were about to sit at the dining room table to watch Levi work some more, a knock came at your front door. Something rang out in your chest as soon as you heard it. Evidenced by nothing, you already knew who it was. Levi turned to rinse off his hands in the sink.

“I got it.”

“No, wait,” you interjected swiftly, and, to your surprise, Levi stopped. He offered you a questioning look, but you were already hobbling forward. You smiled at him reassuringly. “I’ll be alright. Gotta get used to the crutches, remember?” He let you move forward, returning to the kitchen as you shouted to the visitor on your doorstep.

And as you expected, Erwin Smith stood at your door. You stood in the doorway, leaving the entrance just ajar enough to accommodate your form.

“Uh, hi,” he said breathlessly, and just like that, you were twelve and working at your family’s bookshop again. You didn’t think you’d ever see a day where Erwin would be nervous to talk to you, yet all you had to do was look at your doormat.

“Are you done giving me the cold shoulder?” You quirked a brow, and Erwin let out another deep sigh in response. A surrender.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m the last person you probably want to see.” He glanced over your shoulder, spotting Levi cooking in the background. You couldn’t see the glower that Levi shot Erwin from behind his bangs. Erwin turned his attention back toward you. “And I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m alright,” you assured him with a nod. “It wasn’t as bad as they thought it was. I might miss the next scheduled expedition, but Commander Shadis said we could find ways to work around it.” Erwin perked up, his thick eyebrows shooting up on his forehead.

“You already spoke to Commander Shadis?”

“He offered me the rank of section commander.” Erwin’s eyes lit up with his warm smile as he shifted his weight.

“Very good, you deserve it. I know you’ll make an excellent section commander. No one deserves it more than you.” You leaned against the doorway, amused at his feigning ignorance. You couldn’t help your smug expression as you gave in to your temptation to burst his bubble.

“He told me you put in a golden recommendation.”

“He did, did he?” Erwin shook his head, blond lashes fluttering shut as he deflated just slightly. Outmanuvering him wasn’t something that happened often, but it sure as hell was a wonderful feeling. “And so I did.” But even in his defeat, he continued to hold sentiment in his reflective, blue eyes.

“I’m telling him that I accept tomorrow.”

“Well, in that case, let me be the first to congratulate you, Section Commander.”” Erwin pulled a bouquet of red flowers out from behind his back, holding them up to offer to you. You hadn’t even noticed he was even holding them. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I look forward to working with you as your peer and earning your trust in me.”

You looked to him, then to the bouquet. With a plucking of your fingers, you withdrew a single flower from the middle. You made the motion awkwardly, balancing your second crutch under your elbow as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.

“I look forward to that…” You waggled your eyebrows. “Section Commander.” Erwin’s mouth formed a thin-lipped smile. He gave you a nod.

“Section Commander.”

You shut the door without a single insect entering your apartment.

Just in time for dinner.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Writer's Notes: I thought it was fun to write Erwin of all people as that one kid who teaches you things you "shouldn't know" because he's just doing it all by accident.

This fic drew heavy inspiration from "The Imitation Game," in a way. I had always wanted to write a fic that mirrored the scene when Alan wanted to give his love letter to Christopher or something where Erwin was an upperclassman-like figure. It's probably not detectable in the actual fic, but I did go back and watch some of Alan Turing's early life scenes. Weird, considering I only watched the movie once when it first came out.

Please, I encourage you to write complex notes in the replies, reblogs, or inbox. Please. I beg of you.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #levi #erwin smith #levi ackerman #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #reader insert #aot reader insert #commander handsome #daddy sasageyo #levi heichou

257 notes · View notes

ridingtorohan · 6 months

Text

𓇻 ft. jealous mikasa x gn reader. 𓇻 au. friends to lovers, can be read as modern or canon setting. you've agreed to run a kissing booth. Mikasa is, oddly enough, not as receptive to this idea as you are. 𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, share, reblog or send in asks! ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

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"No."

Hearing that one syllable, you let out a slow, resigned sigh. Mikasa stood to your right, brows knitted together, mouth pulled tight into a thin line. Your own eyebrows raised, unperturbed.

"It's not really your decision, Mikasa."

It really wasn't; nor was it any of her business. Mikasa had always been tight-lipped and serious, dutiful to her own responsibilities. You'd think she'd have taken a shine to your own iniative. Everyone knew how badly your division needed the funds. As juvenile as it was, a kissing booth seemed reasonable. Especially with the festivities. Rather, not too long ago, Mikasa had been put in a similar position- though far less willing.

Even now, you could recall how she looked at the Christmas party a few months back. How her pale skin lit under the festive hues, greens and reds dancing over her cheeks. How she stood standing beneath the archway, brows knitted just as they were now. Dressed in sleek black pants, white blouse that fit her broad shoulders, glass in hand.

You weren't sure whether Jean or Mikasa had been more disappointed when they caught each other under the mistletoe.

She has that same look now, barely concealed disgust curling at her mouth, lurking in the dark grey of her eyes. Which for anyone else looking at her, was scarce more than a shadow around the corner of her lips.

"It's for a good cause." You shrugged, nonchalant and almost irritated by her reaction. Mikasa stood for a moment - never hovered, indecision was never something she did-- with eyes half-lidded and narrow in thought.

"Then I'll match it. Every donation," she said firmly, taking another step forward. Her hand rest low at your elbow, grip insistent. Warmth seeped through the fine linen of your shirt, fingers curled sharp over the dip of your arm.

You've been privy to Mikasa's protective ways, how she coddled Armin and Eren at every turn. Rarely she's turned it on you - and right now it was stifling. With a careful twist, you pulled your arm free, grip still firm on the consent papers you were asked to sign.

"It's not a big deal," you countered, a creep of annoyance crawled in and made a home in your tone. Mikasa's mouth twitched, dark eyebrows lowered over an equally dark expression.

"I see. Then you'll understand it's not a big deal when I spend my time at the booth." Mikasa's voice held firm, her gaze even more level when you turned. There was no room to brooker a disagreement; everyone knew how stubborn the Ackermans were, wielding ferocity in their bloods. Just as they held intimidation in their gaze.

With her brooding at the stand, you'd lose a great deal of customers. Nevermind the ones who specifically came to see her.

Stifled under her steely gaze, you turned away, expression twisted with a grimace. "Mikasa. Be serious. Most of the donors will be there for either you or Levi." Her presence at your side remained, every line of her body rigid and terse. You tacked on, willing for a low blow, "The Azumabito Clan will be there."

Finally, after an eternity, she turned her face away, cheek exposed. Wisps of hair fell across her cheek, shrouded her expression from view. Even from the corner of your eyes, you watched her, how the muscles in her jaw flexed, tense with the improper weight of this situation.

The memory of the Christmas party lingered; the fleeting kiss under the archway. How not once did her look shift, even when Jean pulled away, an equal grimace on his face. Not when Sasha bumped into her, cheeks rosy under the temptation of drink. Not when Eren or Levi avoided the archway like a plague while Mikasa stood vigil, totally not conspicious at all. Not even when her gaze once caught yours, too fleeting to be anything meaningful when you turned to enjoy the cheer.

At first you had admired her resolve and after a while it had been just sad. Even worse when her knuckles ghosted over the fabric of your shirt when you passed through. By then, it had been Floch who stood awkwardly there, in a futile attempt to weasel out of a kiss - even when at the time, all you had wanted to do was the feel the gloss of Mikasa's lips, her breath on your skin.

It was hard not to be bitter that night and even more bitter now, especially when it shouldn't matter to her.

Tongue pressed to the inside of your cheek, your next inhale was sharp and through your nose. Papers crinkled under your grip, freshly inked words smeared across your palm. You couldn't find yourself to care, not when Mikasa stood firm to the one thing that might, heaven forbid, not only let you help out your career but get over her.

After a moment, Mikasa's words returned, nearly as firm as the grip of her own knuckles, arms stiff at her side. Even frustrated, she was pretty, righteous in her cold fury. "I don't want to be there for them. They doesn't matter to me." Her eyes cut towards you, lines smoothed from her face.

The scent of perfume, sweat and hay became pronounced as she stepped towards you. As tall and broad as she was, she nearly cut an imposing figure. Shoulders angled forward, insistent in the tear of her gaze. A familiar glint of determination roosted in her eyes. This close, you could feel the ghost of her bodyheat as her fingertips brushed over your hip.

This close, it's impossible not to feel your heart freeze in your chest, how it skittered under the intensity of her gaze. You can't focus on anything but the shift of her palm over your body, the act familiar and intimate. When you swallow harshly, Mikasa's dark eyes flicked down, traced over the swell of your throat.

"If I attend, it will be for you." Her eyes traced over the lines of your face, from your eyes, down the slope of your nose and, impossibly, lingered on your mouth. "I don't want you kissing anyone else."

Her grip tightened, firm on your hip. "Not unless you want to."

All you can do is stare into her eyes, pools of intense and focused grey framed by thick, dark lashes. This close, you could spot the sun freckles that curved over her cheekbones and bridge of her nose. She meant it, you realized. Meant it with the same passion and conviction she used in every other aspect of her life.

Her gaze wavered and darted between your eyes. Your foot is nudged by the toe of her boot. Slowly, by fractions, her grip on your hip lessened before it left altogether. Phantom warmth lingered and for a moment, you could breathe again.

"And if that's what you want," she continued in a low tone. Her chest rose slightly, breathing deep and eyes unfathomably dark. Mikasa's gaze cut down this time, past your jaw, expression slowly knit together - guarded. "Then I won't bring it up again."

It takes another longer, tense moment to finally remember how to breathe. Your eyes caught on the curve of her face, cheeks darker now with - embarrassment? Want? With a harsh swallow, you asked, "You want to kiss me?"

Immediately, she nodded, chin tucked down and strands of black hair fell across her clear forehead. There's no shame in her expression, though the knuckles in her hands pop white, fingers curled inward. Then, as unfathomable as it is, you realize with a start that Mikasa was blushing - that the dark hue that coloured the base of her neck was the start of a flush.

It's not hard to think then, of every moment that lead to this. Of knuckles that brushed over paperwork, how close she stood at your back when she corrected your training stance. Each lingered gaze over books, how her expression eased by fractions every time you two spoke. Then, unwittingly, how her hand felt on the inside of your arm as you side-stepped her from under the mistletoe.

Had she been waiting for you there?

You breathe again with a starlight explosion in your chest. She liked you. Out of everyone that she knew, everyone who vyed for her attention - it was you that turned her head.

Heat washed up the length of your neck. It felt like your heart reacted faster to this realization than your mind could: it skipped a few beats and thundered in your chest.

Mikasa wanted to kiss you. She had been willing to spend her resources, as limited as they were, to actually get a chance to kiss you. That Mikasa didn't want to choose any other kissing booth over yours.

"Yes!" It's a single word spoken in a rush, air hot and thick in your throat. Reflectively, your fingers clenched and a low papery crunch sounded. Though her eyes remained on you, eyebrows hung low. Then the corners of her lips pulled into a frown and almond eyes squinted.

"...Okay."

With a start, you recalled the last words she had offered you. "Wait," you get out in a rush. A beat passed- one where you hesitated, papers in hand. Then it's got in the next and you shove the forms into your bag for later. You'll decide what role you'll want in the kissing booth after this.

"Wait, I meant yes, I want that. To kiss you, I mean."

It's a near instant reaction, her perception zeroing in on your baited breath, the sincerity in your voice. Tension smoothed out of her forehead, lines gone from around her mouth, each breath steady as it always was. And she stood, as she always did, with her body angled in your direction, in orbit around you.

"Yes?" She repeated, soft and low. Mikasa's expression shifted when you said it again. Then, when your fingertips traced over lax knuckles, tapped to the edge of her palm, she responded in kind, hand turned to let you lace your fingers together.

Noses bumped together as you leaned in, drawn in her orbit now, caught in the current that was all Mikasa Ackerman. Mint rolled over your face with each exhale. Strands of black velvety hair fell across your face.

'Vulnerable'. It's a strange word to apply to someone like her, even in a situation like this. But it's the one that twitched in your throat. Because that's what she is, in a moment like this. Exposed. How a smile overtook her face all at once, radiant and beautiful, her eyes no less intense but honest. This is a side that you've only glimpsed at, have seen or heard in dark candlelit libraries or under starblessed skies. This is the side of Mikasa reserved for you.

Then your breath was on her lips, air warmer than your face. Soft, plush lips brushed over yours, a little dry but not unpleasant. Nice, actually, especially in the instant when she breathed out a 'hm' against your mouth as your hands rested over her waist. This time, you guided her like she once did you.

Then her hands settled over your skin, over your waist and the dip of your shoulder, grounded you to her. Calloused fingertips felt like home. She kissed like she's never been kissed before, like all the tension that had ground up between you settled into this one moment.

There's a thousand currents that thundered through your brain, insistent and fast. All that numbed to one pinpoint: the brush of her lips against yours, insistent tug against your hip, her warm breath across your face. To feel her skin against yours, to know that nobody else would have this. That she wanted you.

And the resounding electric current under your skin that whispered, it had always been her. For the both of you, this moment would exist forever.

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besotted-eros · 6 months

Text

Eren x Reader (WoC) 18+

Summary: The ocean sends you a man stuck to a piece of driftwood, and he knows you in a way you don’t know yourself. Masterlist here

Chapter: Epilogue

In his final moment, something flashed before Eren's eyes.

It blocked out the sight of Mikasa, flying towards him. She approached with a ferocity he couldn't recognize, and a love that he did. Her tears trailed across his tongue, leaving the slight taste of salt that made Eren's shiver with memory.

Mountains fell in response.

Mikasa moved fast, so fast and quick and her body was brittle flashes that stung his eyes and filled his vision with worlds, worlds, world.

A red scarf that flickered atop of wall Maria. Waves reflecting off of blonde hair. The taste of meat, a kick in his stomach, an ill timed laugh, a glint from cracked glass, a rivalry.

These tumbled over each other until they stopped dead at the coast of an island, at copper feet covered in sand. Then, the memories yielded to her.

Her dark hair floating in water, her dark eyes peering at him from behind a guarded face that broke bit by bit, and broke him even faster. Her soft body, her hard tone, the way she healed a man who had done nothing but rip and tear through the viscera of the world.

In that last moment Eren saw nothing but her.

He allowed himself that, that momentary disappearance into her shelter as though he had ducked under an awning from the storm. He could shake himself free from a sopping coat, kick off muddied shoes. He searched for her warm hearth blindly, wanting to fall into her plush bed and realise that everything was nothing but a dream. Conjured between making love and waking to a world that offered no sharp silver blows, only a brown hand upon his clavicle.

Mikasa swept closer.

Eren knew he would die like this, but he didn't want to.

Who would?

He wanted a future. He wanted a life. He wanted to be a baby, a child so sinless and unaware of the monsters under the bed and in the nape of his neck. He wanted Mikasa's protection, Armin's solace.

He wanted to be their friend again.

And he wanted her. He wanted her kitchen table. Her pillow. Her bathtub and her neck. He wanted to be the man she pulled from the depths, the man she thought worthy of saving.

Her love, her love. He drowned his soul in it, it seared his veins, burning so bright it cast shadows on the figure approaching him and dulled the glint of the blade. But it did nothing to soften the edge. There would be no friends to protect his foolhardy heart this time. There would be no lover to breathe life into salt stricken lips.

Because Eren was no longer deserving of wants.

The feel of her blossomed like a supernova, and for his last breath Eren breathed only her.

And then there was a blooming gape.

And then nothing.

Truly nothing.

It was a hill like any other.

This one had a tall tree, gnarled branches reaching up to stroke the uninterested face of the sky. The landscape was dotted with dozens of these hills and this one sat perfectly average. Not too high, not too low. The perfect height for you to stare up at the grave that nestled between the ancient roots.

His killer stood between you two. The one that Historia spoke about reverently. She stared down at you, her angled face impassive during her assessment. But no recognition yet. Had Historia warned her of your arrival? It didn't matter. This was a pilgrimage that no one could hinder.

You both stepped forward at the same time, pausing in unison, eyes widening simultaneously. She had seen how you touched the wrap that crossed your chest. Another breath. A realization, softer than the morning dew that wet the bottom of your skirt.

She knew who you were. And oh, how much it hurt her. You could feel the spine of her soul snap with the way her mouth tightened. But you couldn't concern yourself with that now, unless you wanted yours to follow close behind.

She stepped off the worn path and became nothing but a red road marker as you made your way to his eternal side. You couldn't stop your feet if you tried.

You stared down at the small stone. It was so unassuming. Docile and stagnant. So unlike him. It didn't feel right. He was always steaming, always on the precipice of some magnificent blazing collapse like a dying star, ready to swipe clean the face of the world. His body deserved to be incinerated, for his flesh to writhe and scream and flicker until it disappeared.

Yes, fire suited him more.

"You should have burned." You whispered to that great nothing. You knelt on the grass, tentatively placing your palm upon the ground. You tried to feel where it was different. Where it raised, betraying the seed planted underneath. Was he just a skull yet? Was the flesh still clinging to him? The same flesh that you had pressed love to, that you had cradled against your lips and pulled at in the moonlight.

You traced the soil like you had traced his jaw. You followed the hollow of his cheek bone against one of the roots. The rise of his brow against the crest of the hill. The touch of his hair on the grass.

Your Eren.

You inhaled deeply, past the anger that had twisted your throat for months now. Maybe a year. You had kept the knots hidden, too busy trying to heal the gaping wounds he had left behind. But now they threatened to choke you.

"You chose."

Your hand tightened on the grass, ripping the delicate blades. A misdirected fury.

"You chose. I can't get over that. Even if you thought it was inevitable. You didn't rage. You didn't fight against it. You **chose**." You seethed, the sharp scent of the grass offering itself to your mouth as you brought your hand to cover it. You didn't want these words to keep falling, you didn't know how you'd gather them after.

Your heart felt like a mountain. You worried you would be crushed from the inside out.

"You stomped over this world. But my island is untouched isn't it? You could destroy the whole fucking world. You could kill thousands." You were laughing, hot tears tracking down your cheeks to settle on your throat. "But you left that alone. Now I realise why you wanted me to stay so bad. Now it just feels like I live in the foot prints you left behind."

The wind seemed to laugh with you, coaxing your hair from its bun. You sat back on your heels, exhaling slowly. You reached out to trace the engravings on the stone skin. The words were tender. You searched yourself for jealousy and only found mourning.

"I won't visit you again. " You swore. "You don't deserve that. You deserved to have drowned." You spat, your voice heavy with betrayal. The vitriol churned your stomach. You resented the world that put this taste in your mouth. The one Eren curated. "This is the last time. So, know how important this meeting is."

You reached behind you, carefully extracting the bundle on your back. It squirmed in indignation.

You laid your son beside his father's gravestone. His tiny fist waved a greeting, round lips pushed into a pout at the sensation of the cool grass.

"Little bird, this is your father."

He blinked, decidedly unimpressed. It wasn't lost on you how alike they looked. Your son's wide green eyes, the colour of pine trees you had left behind. You cried when he had first opened them. Clutching him to your sweaty chest, his wailing filling your ears like a melody. He was real. He was life. The only life it felt Eren had left behind.

"I thought I'd break the Jaeger curse with him." You said glumly to the stone, allowing your baby to grab your finger and flail it desperately. "But he won't be a Jaeger. I don't know if he'll ever know you beyond the monster that you left to us. Just by the history books and soldier's stories. But not as his own. He'll never know you as his own." You paused, wondering if you were being cruel. To what? To eventual dust? Could you be cruel to him, even?

" The ones who did know you are still healing."

The child gurgled in agreement and you smiled despite it all, pinching a fat cheek. The breeze played with his hair, showing you the curls that mimicked yours. You took a moment to feel the soft down before you laid down beside him. Eren'sgravestone was to your back and you curled your son against your stomach, breathing in the scent of soft soap and warm milk.

"I miss you." You whispered into the ground. "I miss who you were. The person they tell me you were. I miss what we could have had." A pause as the infant drifted to sleep in his parents embrace.

"I miss who you could have been. A father. A friend. You could have changed the world for the better. I saw it in you." You rolled onto your back, turning your head to stare at his grave stone. It was cold. Nothing about him should have been cold. You were overwhelmed by the urge to throw yourself upon it. To keen like a widow doused in black. You should be tearing your hair out, you should be beating your chest to expel the grief.

But your love of him was always quiet. The loss would be the same too.

"I'd have married you. We'd have had another baby. You'd have died in bed beside me. But it would have been a good life, Eren." You leaned forward to press your forehead against his cold Stone. "But you would have been mine." Your voice cracked, and you allowed it. You were tired of being strong. You weren't allowed to mourn him. No one but Hisu would understand. "Wouldn't that have been enough?"

Your answer was over your shoulder. You turned to look at it, at the unobstructed view of Paradis. None of those grand imposing walls that had greeted you when you were first set upon the island. The people had began to spread out, tentatively reaching across the trenches (that looked too much like feet) to settle down in green pastures.

It would never have been enough.

You sat there until the footsteps were too close to ignore.

"I'm sorry."

It felt like the right thing to say, even though you couldn't place what you were apologising for.

"Me too.'

Her voice was soft, and sounded unused. You wondered if she did much but tend to the grave. She had ignored all requests for court or for army. Hisu had worried if she listened to her own body's demands too.

You stood up, turning to look at Mikasa properly for the first time. Her dark eyes were steady, hands held poised beside her. But there was a tremble in her lip, and you saw her gaze slide to the baby clutched in your arms. You tightened your hold instinctively.

Here was a woman you were connected to by love, and by spilled blood. She had severed that connection herself. She had cradled his head how you cradled his son.

How cruel of Eren.

"I'm sorry." You repeated bleakly and she shook her head.

"Don't be. Not for him." So she knew it was a boy. Maybe she was in this world more than Hisu let on.

"Would you like to hold him?" You asked, and you saw the agony plain on her face for a moment. It almost made you stumble. It felt like a mirror. But she raised her arms, and you crossed to her almost gratefully.

She took him reverently, careful not to disturb his sleep. Her touch was novice, but you knew that she would rather fall herself than drop him. She pushed back the cloth from his forehead, dark eyes searching his face. She touched him reverently. As though he was a relic.

Your eyes traced her profile, meeting the weary black circles and hard brow. She turned to look at you and you knew she saw the same. Grief was a better equalizer than any.

"I can't believe he made something so beautiful." She whispered, and you nodded in return. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. "What is his name?"

"Krueger." Her eyes flicked to your face. You didn't know why you chose it either. But she repeated it softly to the child, like a prayer.

"We're tending to the only things he left. That aren't..." Her voice trailed off. You wanted to find the words for her, but couldn't. That aren't broken, destroyed? None of them felt right. Instead you looked out upon the world without walls, and wondered what it meant to rebuild.

#eren jaeger #aot #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren x y/n #snk #shingeki no kyoujin #eren x you #eren #eren aot #aot reader insert #tw death #aot spoilers

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riewritten · 10 months

Note

Child Erwin looks like chucky

indeed!!! but ok hear me out!!!

i acknowledge this official art to be his canon face (like only this official art xksjxjsjs) look how bbg he is tho!

i bet he'd be a cringefail little lover boy and his father would amusingly encourage him in his cringefail escapades because he is just so adorable to watch. you would be the classmate he has a crush on and because our baby doesn't have anything to worry about just yet, all he aims for is your attention! he's still a silly goofy geeky baby here, though, so you'd either be amused with him just as his father is, or perhaps you'd be flustered too because "oh man why is the erwin smith, our smartest in class, in front of me and kissing my hand?!"

now imagine seeing him again years after in his commander physique. you already had an inkling back in childhood that he'd grow up to be a fine young man, but walls be damned, you didn't expect him to be so utterly grim and devoid of light.

nonetheless, seeing you again would remind him of those peaceful times where all he worries for is garnering the affection of his first crush. that's why he'd reenact the scene in a very funny way (or so he thought because bloody hell he looks so charismatic and hot flashing that sweet smirk on you!)

he'd hold back a laugh as he say the cringefail remark, "my lady, i fight for you." then he'd kiss your hand, tipping his head sideward with a smirk, "my legs aren't stubby anymore to trip over it, though. how about that?"

and oh you'd be so whipped. perhaps you'd think that it was your karma for making fun of him way back in childhood because the tables have turned this time around.

(or the turns have tabled?! 🤔 what the hell is wrong with you, couldn't even come up with coherent words just because of a chaste peck on your hand?!)

you almost stutter, smile almost crooked as you quote what you said back then, "w-well, my good knight has no need to fight the whole world for my sake."

then his smile becomes even sweeter, "if that's the case, then perhaps you could indulge with my affection this time around?"

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killerskillercaptain · 8 months

Text

Pillow Talk with Levi Ackerman : Eren

Themes : comfort, fluff, canonverse, romance, Levi and reader are married, late night conversations, deep conversations, reader showing concern about Eren.

This ficlet is part of the PILLOW TALK WITH LEVI ACKERMAN BOOKS. Make sure to follow the next ones by asking to be added to the taglist or by checking the Masterlist !

I Kuchel

II Kenny

III Hange

IV Erwin

V Farlan & Isabel

VI Mikasa

VII Eren

"Another sleepless night", you thought while laying on your king-sized bed, limbs all out. You stared at the ceiling, analyzing each crack on it when you heard the familiar sound of the bathroom's door being opened.

The wooden door would shriek every time someone got in or out of the shower, and no wonder, this place was so old it got you wondering how it was able to withstand the test of time.

You and Levi were staying in this secret base for some additional days. Soon enough, you'll be off to your next stopping point : Wall Sina.

Pixies had requested your presence along with the captain to discuss future strategies. Hange had given you the blueprint of a new advanced weaponry she was working on. The instructions were clear : show the higher ups the new efforts made into this technology, hoping they will find it interesting enough to demand another funding from the nobles. You prayed they would find Hange's work worthy of their time...and money !

"Shit. How long are we gonna keep begging like this ? Those rich bastards with their guts as saggy as their money pouches sure know how to make us crawl to them. All that wealth but they never lift a finger to help unless we stroke their ego, it's not enough for them to cheat on taxation apparently. Plus they always think of us as weak...who do they think is protecting their fat-asses ?!"

He threw a pillow on the bed before plopping down with a heavy sigh.

"Why do we have to be the ones begging ?".

"It has always been like this Levi, and you know it. It's never gonna change" you said eyes still firmly locked on the ceiling.

"If he didn't mess up the original plan, we wouldn't have to come up with this stupid weapon case !"

You knew that by "he", he meant Eren.

"Levi, try to be in his shoes-"

"Yeah right, he's gonna get my shoe right in his face again if he doesn't stop screwing things up !"

"Can you imagine how hard it is for him ? He just learned that he can transform, can you imagine what it's like...turning into the thing you hate the most ? Turning into the very thing that killed your mother...jeez. He only recently realized that, it's as new to him as it is to us, of course he's having a hard time assessing this, let alone control it ! Think of the emotional turmoil, think of-"

Levi shut you up with a kiss on the lips, they were still wet from the shower. He muffled your last words because he honestly couldn't care less about the excuses you were making for the fifteen-year-old boy.

"Stop taking his side, he's a soldier, he has to learn to tame himself anyway"

"Yeah" you let out in a defeated breath

"I don't know about his titan abilities, but he needs to be tamed. That brat has an ego as big as a titan's ass"

"He is still a kid Levi, i can only imagine how disoriented he might feel, dealing with such powers at such a complicated age, don't you think ?"

You lifted your palm and caressed Levi's cheek softly. You sensed he was letting his guard down so you took this opportunity to steal a kiss from your ever so-stoic husband.

You couldn't hide your concern for the cadet. Yes, he was an annoying fifteen-year-old boy with absolutely impulse control. His anger makes him want to prove himself to anyone who would dare provoke him, yet you had a soft spot for him and his devotion. After all, he was only a child when he witnessed his mother getting killed by a titan. He must have felt so powerless back then, that's why he probably feels he has no time to waste or to think and always launches head-on into danger.

"Look at us fighting about Eren as if he was our child" you chuckled.

"We don't have time to empathize with his situation, we need to know how to deal with him"

"Yes captain, but not tonight" you said sliding your gown off your legs, your shoulders, then your head, before tossing it in the corner of the room.

You tossed a leg over your husband's torso. His skin was wet yet warm and extremely comforting. You liked to rest your head on the crook of his neck, taking in his scent, he smelt so clean, as he always did.

You stayed in this position for the longest time until Levi's body turned cold and started to shudder. Feeling him quivering underneath you caught you off guard and you realized how late it already was. Levi slipped away and started to dry his damp skin, the moon casting a sweet light on his delicate figure. You couldn't help but ogle him, watching each and every one motion he made with the old towel.

Levi was literally shining under the dim moonlight.

"But damn, can you imagine turning into a titan ?" you said, both amused and repulsed by the thought.

"Well, at least i would be tall...and i would be the one looking down on our generous providers for a change, instead of having them staring down at me all the time"

He wasn't looking at you but he could hear you muffle a sweet laugh in the dark.

"Levi, you're perfect the way you are-"

"Go to bed already !"

Taglist : @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @notgoodforlife

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philliamwrites · 9 months

Text

SWYAATL 18: Rise from the Ashes

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: canon-divergence, canon-typical violence,

Summary: No one dares to move; no one but Armin, the missing piece and he joins them, intertwines his pale fingers with Eren’s tanned ones, and for a moment almost too brief to matter, this makes sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, make something like the word family.

Notes: [01] || [17] | [19]

A/N: heads up, this isn't beta-read but i just didn't want to let you guys wait any longer ;;

18: Rise from the Ashes

Another window breaks open and three shadowy figures drop through the entrance, landing just behind Reiner and Bertholdt. The first you see with a bright shock of relief is Mikasa, falling through the air like an arrow shot from a bow, sure of its target. She hits the floor with an assured lightness. Connie and Armin follow shortly behind, tumbling through the window in a jumble of limbs and gas canisters clunking on the floor.

The noise in the room doubles—voices overlapping each other, inquiring, shouting, demanding; boots beating on the wooden floor as everyone crowds around Mikasa.

You are still staring outside the giant hole from where you can hear the tell-tale sound of flesh hitting flesh and the blood-churning roar of a Titan. It is still unbelievable what you just witnessed, and the rational part of your mind is adamant that you have died sometime during the last hours and this is just Hell, a never ending battle against the Titans where anything can happen. Even something as crazy as a Titan killing another Titan.

“Hey, are you listening?” Jean appears by your side. Some colour has returned to his face, his eyes a brighter shade. Hopeful, even. “We’re going to take back the supply room.”

“What is that thing?” You shimmy towards the gaping hole, careful the floor doesn’t give away under your feet.

“Isn’t that crazy?” Connie joins you, nowhere near as careful as you. Some rubble crumbles away under his feet, falling a long way down, and you instinctively reach out and take hold of the back of his jacket. “That monster came outta nowhere and started going haywire on other Titans!”

“Looks to me it’s just getting warm for the real deal.” Jean scowls. “Us.”

“I don’t think that’s it … “ Armin rubs grime from his face with the back of his sleeve. His eyes are a striking blue, clear and undisturbed from grief and loss. It is a good sight on him; it means the cogs of his brain are turning, constructing a plan that will hopefully get you all out of here alive. “It didn’t care about us at all. I don’t think it’s after humans.”

“You must be tripping if you think a Titan could ever be on our side.” Jean’s tone is listless. He has obviously neither curiosity nor interest to spare in why that Titan seems different. “Now stop gawking, we’ve got a job to do.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to kill Titans without our gear?” Connie looks worse than on the roof—visibly exhausted, hollow-cheeked and whittled down to a sharp, lean core.

“What about these?”

Your heads turn towards Reiner’s voice on the other side of the room. He’s wiggling a rifle in the air and nods towards a small pile abandoned by the support squad in a corner.

“Either you know secrets about Titans we don’t,” Jean starts, moving towards him across the room, “or I missed out on any other weak point they got except their neck.”

Reiner gives Jean a lopsided grin. “If worst comes to worst, we could just shove it up their asses and try killing them like that.”

“Great, Reiner. That could be your last words.”

Despite everything, you bark out a laugh. From across the room, Marco joins you. You feel the tension loosen slightly, notice the weary smiles on everyone’s face. Strange, that despite everything you can still laugh. As though even in the darkest night there is nothing to be scared of as long as one single star shines and casts light.

Yes, everyone is smiling. Except Mikasa.

She is still gazing outside the hole in the wall, her usually impassive expression turned pensive.

“Mikasa?”

She doesn’t hear you.

“Mikasa.” You gently tug her sleeve, making her start in surprise. “Mikasa, we’re moving out.”

She blinks at you as though trying to free her mind from a haze, then nods and follows the others. With Armin and Marco’s instructions, you build a plan on how to retake the supply room. Have the best of your year finish them off while the rest draws them in as decoys, trying to deal as much damage as possible with the rifles. Working with a plan feels good. It shuts off your mind for the time while you load the rifle, check the barrel isn’t jammed, that the trigger gives under our finger. As you get ready for the operation, Armin pressed against your side amidst the other cadets, you wish Eren were here. You don’t know if you have the capacity to mourn both him and Emil; whatever part of your heart has regrown during your cadet times has been carved out now as well, leaving a vacant space inside your chest.

That won’t do. As if Eren would allow you to go out quietly, unheard of and written off as less than worthless. Wash your rage and grief clean into purpose, temper your will in the fire of anger and hone it into a sharp weapon, a crimson arrow. Deep in your soul there is no more hesitation.

It’s a miracle how everything works out for a change. After the Titans lie slain, the heavy weight of your replenished supplies feels good. You make sure everybody is good and ready to go, moving back up to the roof of the building to see how things look outside.

Titan carcasses block the streets like upheaved mountains, like gods emerging from mould. The smell of blood and iron is heavy in the air, tastes like copper on your tongue as you take in the havoc—caused by one of their own.

Jean holds his hands behind his head, his fingers crossed, expelling air very, very slowly as he observes the city. “Fucking hell, look at what that monster did to all those Titans.”

“It cleared a path,” says Connie in awe as though he’s managed his pet dog to perform an outstanding trick. “We can easily make it over the Wall and join everyone else.”

Marco squints at the far wall with narrowed eyes. “I can see them. They’re watching, I think. Waiting for the right time to join us for support.”

“There is no right time,” Reiner says. “We either go now or we miss another chance.”

“Wait.” You turn towards Armin’s voice. He and Mikasa have moved to the other side of the roof. “Something’s happening to that strange Titan.”

He’s right. After killing the remaining Titans, its knees give out as though he is incapable of holding himself upright any longer. Like any other Titan incapacitated, it drops dead. Steam rises from its nape, though you must have missed when it got hurt.

As you watch the steam rise, Jean’s voice sounds from your right. “See, it’s done for as well. Something like that will never be our companion. Titans will always be Titans.”

But nobody is listening to him because you’re all staring at the Titan lying on the ground as more steam rises from its neck. And even more steam. A lot of steam billows into the sky in thick, white clouds until it begins to dissolve, showing the silhouette of a dark figure sticking out from the Titan’s neck. Now that draws everyone’s attention.

As the steam dissolves and the skies clear, even from this distance, you recognise the boy—broad-shouldered, unruly brown hair sticking to his forehead.

Mikasa makes a little gasping sound, and before anyone can move, she is already lowering herself to the ground. You’re frozen for a moment, heart beating in your throat. Standing this still, the world cannot touch you and all depends on how immobile you are against the turning world—just in case that this moment might shatter at your slightest movement and reveal this is all but a dream, an imagination of your mind.

For it cannot be that Eren has emerged from the Titan’s neck, alive and breathing.

You’ve lost Emil once and he didn’t return; and then the same thing happened to Eren but he has returned. You’ve always know Eren is different, someone so rarely existing in mankind’s history that his name will be eternal, but this—this is not how you expected it to be.

Eren looks as though he is sleeping. His closed eyes are fringed with black lashes the shade of ink. His head is drooping slightly, his face relaxed and vulnerable in sleep, softer and less angular than when he is awake. It feels … unfamiliar.

After Mikasa pulls him out of his flesh-stringed chains, she holds him like … well, like she has lost him once already and would move Hell and challenge Heaven if anyone dare take him away again. Her cries fill the street, raw and heart breaking as though pulled out of her with a sharp hook—and you understand it better than anyone; you feel as if your heart is made of cracked glass, and the shards are like tiny knives inside your chest when you breathe.

No one dares to move; no one but Armin, the missing piece and he joins them, intertwines his pale fingers with Eren’s tanned ones, and for a moment almost too brief to matter, this makes sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, make something like the word family.

“How…” His voice is thick with tears, with hope, with love. But also wonder. “How can this be…”

You feel as if someone has reached inside your chest and unlocked a box that holds your heart, spilling tenderness like new blood through your veins. Never have you felt such an overwhelming urge to fiercely protect a group of people, to wrap your arms around them and curl up tightly with them, alone and from the rest of the world.

The silence that follows is deafening. Jean turns slightly, overlooking the destroyed streets filled with Titan corpses. You barely recognise his voice. “This . . . Eren did this?”

Ironic, isn’t it? That all of you knew Eren would slay hundreds of Titans with his hate for them burning hotter than the sun, but nobody expected it to happen like this. He didn’t take an axe to a tree—he clear-cut the forest with gasoline and everything is still burning.

The moment doesn’t last long. Voices echo from down the streets, followed by the sound of wires zipping through the air, gas cylinders, scraping blades against metal. The roof vibrates with heavy boots stomping towards you. By ingrained training you salute, fist against your heart that beats hard against your ribcage, trying to break out and go where? Outside the walls? To Eren?

One Garrison soldier tackles Reiner and Marco for answers—screaming and shouting as if it is their fault, all an elaborate hoax by the current graduates to pay back three years of slaving away under their seniors. A tall man with a fairly muscular build and hazel eyes draws closer, his dark blond hair tamed into a low ponytail. Team leader Ian Dietrich barks orders, to gather, to give status reports, to rattle off HQ’s inventory. When his eyes cut a way in your direction, he points at you and Jean. “You two, get down there and take their weapons.”

Nobody moves, the question marks evident on your faces. Connie finds his voice first. “Take their weapons? They—they saved us.”

“Oh yeah?” Dietrich steps closer to Connie, easily towering over him. “All I see is a guy who just got out of a Titan’s neck. You wanna explain that?”

Silence. There are no words to explain this.

“That’s what I thought,” he mumbles before raising his voice loud enough Connie reels back. “MOVE IT!!”

Jean and you scramble off the roof. He’s muttering under his breath, but all you can think of is that you can see Eren up closer, all that matters is that he is all right, all that matters is that he’s here—

Sensing something is off like a hound scenting danger, Mikasa steps forward, her hand jerking towards her blades, making you realise what a frightening reality it would be with her as your enemy.

Luckily, Jean finds the fitting words right away. “What the fuck is happening?”

“We need to get Eren away from here,” Mikasa says, her voice colder than steel. “The senior soldiers, what did they say?”

“No, I mean what the fuck is going on with Eren?” Jean snaps—snaps at Mikasa. She opens her mouth, closes it. Shakes her head.

“You mean even you didn’t know?” Jean sounds doubtful. “That he’s a Titan?”

Mikasa’s usual impassive expression shatters into honest puzzlement. You look at Armin, but even he seems at a loss for words, still holding onto Eren.

“We’re here to take your weapons,” you explain. It feels wrong. “I don’t think the Garrison soldiers trust you.”

“Not that they can be blamed,” Jean adds, and flinches away at the scathing glare Mikasa throws at him.

“If they touch Eren—” she starts and it seems for a moment she’s ready to cut your heads off for it first, but Armin bolts forward, grabbing her arm.

“We’ll surrender them,” he says quickly, ignoring Mikasa’s betrayed expression. “Working with the military right now is the best—the only option we have.”

You lean into Armin, lowering your voice, aware that your neck lies bare for Mikasa to make her threat come true. “Do you have a plan, Armin?”

His eyes are big, blue, bright and he is so frightened, but Armin’s always been the one whose brain works the best under pressure. “No,” he whispers, voice shaking. “But I—I’ll think of something.”

Of course. He always thinks of something, bright-minded Armin, soft-hearted Armin. His shoulders are shaking. You see him standing on that roof, shortly after declaring Eren has perished, right between Jean and you and remembering the fierce feeling: you would lay down your life for him, for Jean, for Mikasa. For Eren.

They surrender their weapons without complaint, Armin more willingly than Mikasa. Before she can relinquish her last blade, you catch her hands, feeling her stiffen under your touch.

“Keep it.” All eyes rivet on you. “You might need it.”

Mikasa’s lips part, but Jean is quicker. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

“I don’t know!” Your hands shake as you make sure her blade holsters hold and the last one is sharp and unused. The answer is pretty obvious though. “Helping our friends?”

Jean groans, throwing his head back. Drops of sweat roll down his jaw. “This can’t be happening…”

And then he’s right beside you, fumbling with Mikasa’s gas cylinders. “I know you spent yours more down in the cellar. Give them to me.” Mikasa blinks, but quickly follows his instructions. “And just so we’re clear, I’m not doing this for—for whatever the fuck Jaeger is; I’m doing this for you.”

“Eren is still Eren,” Mikasa immediately replies. When you glance at Armin, he remains silent.

Jean doesn’t look at her. “That remains to be seen.” When he’s done, he takes a step back, carrying Armin’s blades. He turns to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

With a last, desperate look, you squeeze Mikasa’s hand. She squeezes back. “Don’t stop fighting,” you tell her. “And don’t stop thinking,” you say to Armin. They both nod. When you cast your eyes to Eren, still unconscious, still breathing, it takes every ounce of self-restraint to not drape your body over his just to keep him away from harm.

If you all make it … when you all make it, you will have your answers, no matter the consequences.

You find Daz in the courtyard with the other soldiers, all who have just written off their lives to the absurd plan that somehow, Eren will seal the hole in the Wall and everything has been an elaborate experiment by the government to see if man can turn into Titan and fight them with their own weapons.

It sounds like a pile of horse-shit. You don’t believe it. Your cadet corpse doesn’t believe it. But like flies you gravitate towards it because right now it seems the only way of winning this.

But if Daz thinks he should be only scared of Titans, he’s wrong.

Jean, trailing behind you, reads you like an open book. His instinct kicks in and he grabs for your arm as you lash out to punch Daz in the face. He’s too slow. Your fist connects with Daz’s jaw and there’s a satisfying crack.

“You disgusting, pathetic roach,” you seethe as he tumbles to the ground, holding his jaw as tears spring to his eyes. “You abandoned us.”

Daz whimpers. Lips trembling, he opens his mouth—and tries to scurry away on all fours. You trip him up, moving to kick him in the head but this time Jean gets a hold of you, strong arms hook under your armpits and he lifts you up as though you weigh nothing. It doesn’t stop you from kicking out, and when you manage to hit Daz’s side, you bark a triumphant shout.

“I—I didn’t know what else to do!” Daz screams back with tears and snot on his face, turning it into an ugly, revolting grimace. “L-look, you’re here, how—how bad could it have—”

You see red. “They died because of you!” You fight against Jean’s hold, he must be saying something but you can’t hear it against the rushing blood in your ears, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. “Karl and Franz, they’re dead because you’re a fucking coward!”

“They’re dead because we. Can’t. Win. Against. Titans!” he screams back, spit flying. “This—this all is just a plan to get rid of us! Eren Jaeger is a Titan fighting on our side? They’re all lying! We’re just here so they have time to save their own asses! Don’t you get it? The Inner Wall doesn’t give a shit about us! But I am wrong? I am the problem?! I’m just trying to survive this! What is wrong with wanting to life?” Daz jumps to his feet, maybe trying to shove you back in his anger, maybe trying to grab your shoulders and plead that he did nothing wrong, that he alone is the sane one for trying to save his own hide.

Jean swiftly moves you out of the way by taking a step to the side and dragging your with him. Daz trips over his own feet and this time when he falls, he remains on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut off. Sobs wreck his body. You can hear him mumble faintly, words like “I didn’t mean for them to die.”

You stop struggling in Jean’s grasp. He waits for a moment, judges from your body language if you’ll lunge at Daz again. You’re very still, and finally, he releases you.

“Hope that your new squad members aren’t as scared as you are. For your own sake,” you say quietly. “I’ll go standing somewhere you’re fucking not.”

You stomp past him, relishing in how he flinches when your boots barely miss his outstretched fingers digging into the ground. Jean follows after you, keeping a small distance from you as you wind through groups of soldiers waiting for further orders from their squad leaders.

In a quiet corner, you finally stop, willing your racing heart to calm down. Daz isn’t worth it. He doesn’t understand what is at stake. Especially after Commander Pixis’s speech—you’re all fighting for a greater cause, to save more people at the cost of a few sacrifices.

“What’s wrong with wanting to protect yourself? To stay alive?” Jean’s voice sounds distant, mirroring Daz’s words. You whirl around, glare up at his grim face—and step back from the accusation you find in his expression.

“We don’t get to make that choice anymore.” You shake your head. Your pulse thunders in your ears. “Not after today. You see what’s at stake, we can’t just sit by.”

“We can’t go into this fight without thinking either,” Jean snaps, voice barbed wire that grates against your spine. “Haven’t we lost enough already?”

“Which is exactly why we need to fight!” Frustration raises your voice, as if just by speaking the notion loudly into existence Jean might adopt it. “I thought you cared. About our friends, about me.” Your voice turns hard like ice. “About Marco.”

Jean’s face goes slack; wiped clean as a slate: beautiful yet terrible to behold, like a night without stars and you have caused this. It dissolves the anger, allowing a hot-prickling shame to bloom in your chest.

Steeling yourself against Jean’s outburst, you’re surprised his voice is calm—calm but tempered in determination. “I do care. But I’ve got a brain I can use instead of just running ahead without thinking. You think Eren is the solution to everything; if anything, he’s a barrel of gunpowder about to explode any time. In a way, he did.”

“I think I understand why you hate him,” you say quietly. “You’re jealous. Because he does all the things you’re afraid of.”

His gaze flicks to you, the warning in their tawny depths clear as a length of exposed steel. “If I’m a coward for fearing death, what does your overzealousness make you?” He looks as if he’s one argument away from a scream. “Turning into another suicidal maniac won’t change anything. And I will not—” Jean inhales sharply, his chest heaving with the force. His voice turns so quiet you have to take a step forward to hear him. “I will not suffer your loss.”

His words land like a blow. You take a deep breath, nearly choke on it as you swallow a lot of sadness.

“Jaeger calls me selfish,” Jean continues. “If wanting a life where you and I are happy is me being selfish, then I guess I am.” He studies your face, taking apart every muscle twitch, every twist of your lips. He puts so much time into handling you, your Jeanie.

All the tension leaves from your body as you take the first step towards him. Jean moves in tandem, already embracing you before you lift your arms. It feels like home. He smells like home.

For a moment you stand still in the circle of his arms, hearing his heartbeat, his hands patting half-awkwardly up and down your back, your hair. “All I want is for you to be careful,” he mumbles. “Can you do that for me?”

“I’m always careful. ‘S like my middle name.”

He snorts. “You said the same thing when you jumped into the river when we were thirteen.”

“And I was fine.”

“You broke your ankle.”

“It made me the toughest kid in the neighbourhood. It was worth it.”

Jean tugs gently at your hair. It reminds you of the years when you used to wear your hair in braids and Jean would yank on them, with considerably less gentleness than he is showing now.

“You should be careful too. And what I said earlier—I know you care. You always care and worry, about me, about Marco—”

“Marco is with Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie, it doesn’t get safer than that, so no, I’m not worried about Marco,” Jean says, but you can hear the nerves under his flippant tone. Instead of shushing him, you reach down and take his hand, winding your fingers through his cold ones. His hand is clammy, but he returns the pressure with a grateful squeeze.

“I know it’s dangerous,” you say quietly, “but you just have to go along with me. Trust me.”

Jean’s amber eyes are serious. “I trust you,” he says. “I don’t trust someone who happens to be able to turn into a Titan.” He cuts his glance toward the Wall, to somewhere up there where Eren is currently with Commander Pixis.

“Well, try,” you say. “We don’t really have any other choice, do we? He’s all we have to stand a chance against them.”

A little shudder passes over Jean. “How did it come to this? I should be on my way to the Inner Wall. We—we were supposed to be prepared for shit like this, and now, there are fucking Titans everywhere and our friends are dead and I don’t even know if we’ll live to see tomorrow—”

“You don’t have to stay here,” you say quietly. Since Pixis has declared deserting will not be punished, the ranks have noticeably thinned.

“Yes,” Jean says, squeezing your hand. “I do.”

You stand like this for a moment, leaning close together, the way you always do when you share a moment, curving into each other when you speak, in your own contained universe. That is until the sound of a horn rips into your quiet bubble and drags you back to the present.

Jean’s face falls. “It’s starting. We’re really trying to make a Titan close the hole in the wall for us.”

“Eren,” you provide quietly. “It’s still Eren. He’ll do it somehow.”

“Yeah, well. Looked as dumb as a pile of shit up there, so yeah, it’s Eren no doubt,” Jean mumbles. He leads the way back to the Main Courtyard, to your friends who are sorted into squad teams assigned a task each. A map of golden hair catches your eye, and with great relief you fling your arms around Armin and squeeze him hard enough he turns blue.

“I knew you’d think of something,” you mumble into his mud-caked hair, not caring that he smells of sweat and blood and dirt. You’re sure you don’t smell pleasant either.

Armin sputters something, but his lithe fingers press into your sides, hard, as though convincing himself you’re really there.

“Let’s just hope Eren can really pull it off,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck before letting you go.

“Everything Commander Pixis said about … about Eren being a human experiment. How much about that is true?” It’s been nagging you ever since Pixis’s grand speech, like a splinter sitting in your brain. “Did you know? Did Mikasa now?”

“I’m sure Commander Pixis came up with that on the spot just to have some sort of explanation. I don’t want to imagine the mass panic breaking loose if people think the military doesn’t have it under control.”

“But—what is really going on then?”

Armin’s eyes look too big for his face, fearful and uncertain. “I don’t know.”

“What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” Jean snaps, having listened into the conversation. “What are we supposed to do if you don't even know what’s going on.”

Armin opens his mouth, but from the corner a squad leader barks Jean’s name, ordering him to join the squad. Jean storms off, not looking back, and for a moment Armin tenses as if moving to follow after him.

You grab his arm. “It’s okay. He’s not really pissed, he’s just—just confused.” Like everyone. ”We’ll talk later to him, okay?” As if later is a possibility you don’t have to fear being ripped away by the absurdity of this mission. “Don’t worry, he won’t tell. He gets it, Armin.”

Armin trots after you, an anxious, jittery mess, gnawing at this nibbled-down fingernails until they bleed and leave red smears around his mouth. You take Armin’s hand and hold it all the way to where you take position up on the wall to draw the Titans off Eren’s path. Armin squeezes your hand hard enough your bones ache under the pressure.

“I promised Eren … that I wouldn’t die here,” he says quietly. His free hand, balled into a fist, shakes. He’s so scared, but that’s the thing. You’re all scared. And still, you have to fight. You have to move forward.

You stand close to him and wrap your other hand around his shaking wrist. “Don’t worry about that. Because I won’t let you.” Not you, not anyone else. To save one is to save the world.

It is naive, but it burns so strongly within you, this conviction that no one else from your 104th Cadet Corps will die. That somehow, you can prevent it and protect them all. Armin bows his head in your direction, presses his shoulder into yours. And then he meets your eyes and nods. In his face you see all your friends who won’t return ever again. Franz, Hannah, Thomas. Mina.

You have to try. You have to try for their sake or else their deaths were for nothing.

“The goal for now is easy.” Armin’s expression steels into courage. “We keep the Titans away from Eren’s path, he seals the hole. The leader of Alpha Squad, Rico Brzenska, will notify us with a smoke signal about the operation’s status. She’s shot the green smoke flare, which means the operation’s started. Should anything go wrong, she’ll signal with a—”

His voice breaks off as his eyes stare off at something behind your shoulder. You turn around, tiny stones crunching under your boots while you brace against the sudden gust of warm wind hitting you like a solid wall as though summer has suddenly fallen upon the city.

There, just off the Market Square, Eren’s Titan rises with an ear-shattering roar, and right behind him, cutting through the azure-blue sky, red smoke rises upward like a smear of blood.

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