#Y'all I hate being the person that makes a post about their weight but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

antheshewro · 1 month

Text

Una mattina - Chapter 3.

It took a cup of tea and a stop on a local café to make Levi learn how Hange, his partner perhaps for life, hid something big from him. Something as big as another person, and a baby, involved. Perhaps going out that day had been a mistake.

✩✩ There I am again!! sorry for the late update but life is a thing and shit happens i guess... i have the entire story ready so lmk if you want another chapter this week! xoxo ✩✩ PS: thanks so much to everyone who read it, liked it and even sent me a message, it means a lot especially bc english is not my first language and it's the first ff i post!! y'all are amazing ♡

Lawrence didn't respond, nor looked at him. She knew, from the very beginning of their conversation about Hange and the minute they met in that café, probably. She still couldn't blame him, but his words were cutting deep. She was the one to carry on with a pregnancy alone. Not Levi.

Several minutes passed, and with them, the nightly sky took the place of the sunset. The living area was dark, no lights on to illuminate the place. Lawrence hoped Levi would leave her alone, once for all. He was still sitting on the sofa, not moving or budging. But Levi didn’t need lights to see. He always moved around in darkness. His eye adjusted itself with relative ease.

Lawrence’s words still rang in his ears. She was carrying the baby of the woman he loved. Her choice over him. Why her? Why not him? He still felt anger coursing through his veins. So much so that he decided to take a step closer. He stood up and moved towards Lawrence. He wanted to leave, to be left alone, to not hear her voice. But he couldn’t just leave like that.

Lawrence, however, didn't move. Her grip around her legs tightened, and just for a moment, she could feel the baby giving her a subtle kick. It wasn't the first time she'd catch it, yet she didn't feel the same happiness she shared during the very first time it happened. Now her pregnancy felt like a weight on her shoulders. Her eyes closed just for a second, and let a quiet breath out of her lips. The living room was completely dark now, the moonlight being the only source of light from outside. The entire house was so silent, it felt like it was empty.

Levi leaned down in front of Lawrence, taking one of her hands in his. He wanted to see if he could feel the baby kicking as well. His eyes stared straight at her, a silent look telling her that he’d been hurt by this. Even if the baby wasn’t his, he felt like it should’ve been and couldn’t help but think about what his and Hange’s child would’ve turned out to be like.

He still felt hurt, angry.

“I hate you.” He said again. “I hate you.”

Lawrence felt her hand being lifted up, yet she didn't bother to look up at his face, nor she acknowledged his proximity, even if she could feel and hear his breath being very close to her. Her gaze was still looking at the starry night through the window. It made her feel like she was just existing in that chair. The burden of having someone dear to her passing away, carrying their legacy along with her, yet enduring such treatment. Levi's words were like dust in the wind for Lawrence.

“It should’ve been me.” Levi said, loud enough for Lawrence to hear. A small hint of desperation in his voice that seemed to catch his own attention, before it all turned back into his regular and plain tone. “But no, it had to be you, right? The woman she chose,” He spat out suddenly. “And why couldn’t it have been me?” He growled the last question.

Lawrence, at that point, snapped her head back towards Levi and yanked her hand away from his grip. As if something switched inside of her mind, she got up and took a step towards him, with a scowl appearing in her face. “All she talked about was you. Levi here, Levi there,” She hissed, raising her voice as she continued speaking. “And I was the woman who got to be the side chick while she never mentioned me to any of her friends. Not even you.”

Her index finger pointed at herself, pressing on her chest as she spoke. Lawrence's voice was close to a yell. “There was no space for me, ever. Only you.”

Levi took a step back from her with wide eyes, a bit surprised with her sudden change in tone. He felt his anger building up inside of him again, although he quickly regained his composure to hear Lawrence out, and once he did, he stayed quiet, thinking about what she had to say and her words hurt him more than he could’ve ever imagined.

“So you blame me for it?” Levi whispered softly, as if he felt ashamed of himself for letting this happen to Lawrence. As though it was his fault. “Is that it?”

Lawrence looked up and down at him as he spoke, shaking her head just so slightly before she took a small step back, staring at him with the same scowl she had before and a stern gaze in her eyes. Her hands were clutching the fabric of her dress, before one of them got lifted up and pointed at the door.

“Leave.” She said simply, without giving any further explanation to that simple word. Her heart felt like it was ready to jump out of her chest in a matter of seconds. “I'm done with your behaviour.”

“You’re asking me to leave?” Levi asked calmly, his eyes watching Lawrence carefully. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he saw her pointing towards the door. “Now you want me to leave?”

He took a small step towards Lawrence as his gaze remained fixed on her face. “After you dragged me into this mess, told me about the child you and Hange were expecting, and blamed me for everything afterwards?” He paused, then took another step towards her. “After you were the one who let me stay in this house?”

Lawrence took a step closer to Levi, their proximity making their foreheads almost touching in he process. Both their warm breaths kept hitting on each other's faces, making their skin a little red because of it. Her arm lowered and went back to the side of her body, looking into his eye with the same insistence he had in his gaze.

“I don't blame you,” She whispered, her hand still clutching the soft fabric of her lounge dress, fidgeting with it. “The baby was unplanned. And I told you Hange never knew about it because I found out after she died.”

Leaning in close towards Lawrence, that look in her eyes made his heart skip more than a beat. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her, even if he knew this was most likely a bad decision. Before she could say anything else, Levi placed his hand softly on her bare thigh and stepped closer still, his head getting as close to her belly as he could.

“Let me hear the heartbeat.” He said softly and with a look in in his eyes that nobody other than Hange had ever seen. Lawrence grabbed Levi's hand and placed it on top of her swollen stomach, while her free hand gently pressed on one side of her belly, as to make the baby move. It didn't take long before it moved, and after a couple of minutes it kicked right next to Levi's hand.

“I told you about the baby because you deserved to know,” She quietly said, feeling the baby going on with its subtle kicks inside of her womb. “I was just a fling who got pregnant. You were always Hange's first choice.”

Levi’s eyes widened at the sudden baby movement inside of Lawrence’s womb, a smile creeping onto his face at the soft kick he could feel. A kick from the child he would’ve had with Hange. He pressed his cheek and his ear against Lawrence’s belly, wanting to feel the moment too. His eyes were closed tight, though, as if it were some kind of dream.

“Let me hear it again.” He whispered gently, looking back at Lawrence.

Lawrence gently caressed her belly once again, massaging it in certain spots where she knew the baby would feel it the most. Like clockwork, it began to kick again and move around her womb, as to tell the two of them it was awake.

Even though Levi's reaction was nothing but pure happiness, her own words made her heart heavy. Lawrence was just a side woman for Hange, that unborn baby was just her offsprings. She was never important in the first place.

Levi smiled as soon as the kicks came again and placed his hand, his palm flat on Lawrence’s belly, where he could feel the baby moving around. He then looked right into Lawrence’s eyes.

“I should’ve been here with Hange,” He said with a sigh, as if he wanted to be upset that Lawrence had stolen his moment with Hange. “Not you.” But he wasn’t upset, even if he told himself that he was. His other hand was placed at her waist, pulling Lawrence close to him.

Levi probably didn't realise how his words kept hitting Lawrence as a knife stabbing her repeatedly, yet he continued to reiterate the same thought over and over again.

Lawrence felt her heart aching as time passed, which made the baby move a bit more. As if it knew his own mother was feeling sad. Her lips pursed, one hand gently caressing her swollen stomach as she looked down at it. The more she felt uneasy, the more the baby would kick Lawrence. A small gesture that made her feel less alone. Levi saw how his words affected Lawrence and wanted to keep going. He wanted to see her feeling terrible like that again and again.

“It shouldn’t be you.” He whispered at her, his body now touching Lawrence’s in more places than before. He felt her breathing in his ear and was breathing out softly himself, feeling her warm breath hit his neck.

“You were a one night thing.”

Lawrence's free hand went back to clutch her dress so tightly, her knuckles became white. She wouldn't have been upset on a regulae day but Levi's words, combined with her hormones, gave her a feeling she experienced a very few times in her life.

Her lips began to tremble and quickly pushed Levi's hand away from her body. Lawrence walked towards the stairs of her house, sitting down on the last step, breathing in and out as she covered her mouth in the process. A faint gulping sound escaped her throat, trying to calm herself down.

Levi watched as Lawrence walked away, her shoulders shaking slightly, as if she was going to cry or break down. He looked away for a few seconds and took a deep breath. He then followed her down the stairs and sat down close to her, his breath hitting her neck and cheek as he spoke.

“Why should you get to be a mother and I’m not?” He whispered harshly, looking right into her eyes. “Why should you get to love someone when I couldn’t?”

Lawrence could feel hot tears spilling from her eyes, running down her face and cheeks. The baby kept kicking and she had to caress her belly to make it calm down, breathing in and out to relax herself. Levi's proximity to her body was making it almost impossible. His words, however, made her furrow her brows.

“You wanted to bear a child?” She repeated his own words, as if she was trying to make some sort of sense out of it. “Then get a womb and a vagina.”

Levi took the arm that caressing her stomach and leaned it to her side. It could’ve been his arm caressing her womb, feeling her kicking baby inside. “I wanted to be with Hange,” He whispered softly, his warm breath hitting her face. “Have something between me and Hange made. A family.”

Silence engulfed the already silent house before Levi spoke again.

“We were meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”

And he wanted no one else to be there but him, no one else in Hange’s life but himself.

Lawrence got up again, and abruptly walked down the stairs, leaning on the iron railing as she tried to calm herself down in the process. All the kicking was making her nauseous, but never as much as Levi's behaviour. Yet, she still couldn't get properly mad since stress was gonna affect her pregnancy.

“I'm gonna have this baby and you're gonna keep it,” She spat out at some point, turning her face and glancing up where Levi still sat. “And you'll have your son or daughter.”

He sighed and walked back up the stairs, his eyes on Lawrence as he walked up to her and grabbed her arm. His face was stern as he leaned her against the wall, looking her right in the eyes and forcing her to listen to what he had to say. “But you won’t be the mother.”

He went on harshly, his hand now holding Lawrence’s stomach as the kicks from the baby could be felt again. “I will be. You’re just the woman that Hange chose to get knocked up.”

Lawrence nodded and wiped her tears, with a loud exhale, sniffling up a little as she moved towards the front door and opened it fully, standing on its side as she looked right into Levi's eye with a stern, yet hurt glance.

“Now leave,” She repeated what she previously said, although her tone had a more warning note on it. “I need to rest.”

Levi stared Lawrence down for a few seconds, as if he was expecting her to change her mind in the last second. But when no more words came out her mouth or when her expression remained the same, he had nothing else to say. He wanted to be the one telling Lawrence to leave, but his silence was just that.

He watched as she opened the front door and took her place beside it. Levi then took a few steps backwards, staring at her before walking out of the house, his words and tone stern.

“I will still be the one raising the baby.”

#attack on titan #aot #levi x reader #levi x hange #levihan #levi x oc #hange x oc #post war aot #levi x pregnant!reader #hange x pregnant!reader #aot x ooc #aot ooc #levi x pregnant!oc #pregnant oc #hange x pregnant!oc

3 notes · View notes

maverickbackalley · 1 year

Note

Someone already asked about Krisnix soooo,,, Klapollo perchance?

Sorry for the late reply! As a reminder to others, this is in reference to the brutal ship honesty post!

As for Klapollo: I love them. I hate them? I'm conflicted. I love the possibility between them but rarely how it's executed. It's another one of those ships that has a really particular balance to it to feel believable and, if I have to be brutally honest, many people don't do it Justice for me personally. Now don't get me wrong, I'll still inhale klapollo content like a malnourished kirby, but that doesn't mean I necessarily agree with all of it.

I've already presented my general Klavier thesis to the class, so I'll try not to be a broken record, but the man is so complex and I absolutely hate when people just write him off as dumb, whiny, or a purely overdramatic spoiled brat of a Rockstar. (Don't even get me started on cutting his hair directly after 4-4 I will chew through asphalt i stg.) I feel like these men both have hard-stop trust issues at this point and neither one is just going to uwu ;) their way into a relationship with the other in the first place. I admittedly don't have a read on Apollo as well as I feel I've been able to get a general grasp of Klav, but one thing Apollo is not is the shy little pushover some people make him out to be. He's a short king and I will always defend his right to hold himself at least 3ft taller than he actually is. That man is TOUGH and tenacious, even if hilariously awkward at times. I love that ferocity about him and how well it opposes the overly sociable way Klavier presents himself to the public. They both carry a tremendous amount of weight on their shoulders and it's not something either can "are you lost, babygirl~?" their way into a relationship with freely. That shit would need to be hashed out and a lot of healing would need to happen--both on an individual and a general relationship level--before it could get serious. I think they could be a great support for one another and balance out their personalities wonderfully in the long run, but I think the long game is where some klapollo shipping falls short, if that makes any sense?

I do love seeing art of them in general though so I'm admittedly way more flexible with what's portrayed with this pair than I would be with some others. Seeing or reading GOOD art of them that I agree with wholeheartedly is more like being handed my favourite ice cream in a waffle cone AND all my favourite toppings. I can still eat and enjoy the ice cream plain and out of a bowl, BUT DAMN do those extras make it that much better. Fuck me up.

As always though, people can (and should!) enjoy, create, and cater content and characters however they want. I want to ensure my saying all this doesn't make anyone think otherwise. Do whatever makes you and your blorbos happy, y'all.

Thanks for the ask and for playing!

#asks #cosmickestrelsgarden #ace attorney #aa #klavier gavin #apollo justice #klapollo #Mav speaks

38 notes · View notes

antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 2 years

Text

It's so infuriating to me that gender critical people aren't afforded the decency of having their arguments regurgitated verbatim. I mean, I know why--when our words are said by us, in our own way, people actually agree with us and think we're logical. People have to twist our words in the most nonsensical way to produce the effects of disagreement.

Like...

Conservatives actually say shit like "abortion is murder" and "being gay is sinful" and "gay agenda". Racist people actually talk about the white race being destroyed and they talk about how people should only date within their race. Neo-nazi's actually draw swastikas and talk about how jews are evil. That's shit that these people say word for word. When you make fun of them for saying that shit, you can rest assured that you're attacking them for things that they've actually said.

No gender crit has ever said "women are walking vaginas" or "vaginas are what makes a woman" or "the ability to be pregnant is what makes a woman" or "all women must look a certain way or they're not women" like... Every single last one of those are strawmen. The only people who have ever said those things are TRA's who are trying to paint "terfs" in a bad light. No radfem or gender critical person has ever said those things verbatim or--hell--even tangentially meant them.

I know that what I say is true because so many people on this site will steal terf posts and change nothing about them because they agree with them but don't like the fact that it's said by someone who's brave enough to not buckle in the face of disapproval.

See, when gender critical people actually say what they believe, in their own words, people will happily agree with it and reblog it because it makes sense.

Nobody could ever use conservative talking points and be agreed with up until somebody points out that they're conservative. The moment someone says something like "abortion is morally wrong", no matter how they word it, it's immediately masks off.

Y'all will literally sit there and agree with statements like "women will find any means necessary to escape the crushing reality of misogyny" or "men oppress women" or "women feel alienated from their bodies and will undergo procedures to make their reality as a woman more tolerable"--you know, things that gender critical people actually say and believe. It isn't until someone tells you that you should hate them that you actually do.

Nobody has to tell me when someone is a conservative. If I went on Twitter right now and searched the accounts of random people, I would bet my entire fucking life that I can pick out who's right leaning. I don't need someone to tell me that. I wouldn't reblog their posts in agreement.

If you don't hate someone until you're told to do so, your hatred isn't genuine--you're just afraid of what will happen to you if you don't bow to the people telling you that you should hate them.///Oh, and in case you're gonna hit me with the "terfs hide their true intentions behind liberal talking points so people will agree with them!!!"

Do they hide or do you just not like facing the logical implications of the things they say? Are you just not a fan of the fact that the phrase "women will do anything to escape the crushing weight of transition" means that some women will pursue transition, not because they feel like men, but because they feel like like life as a women must've been the inspiration behind hell? Do you just not like the fact that "men oppress women" means that men have so many stereotypes around women that they genuinely believe there's a way to become one by emulating a set of behaviors?

Maybe you just don't like the fact that even though you agree with gender critical people, you don't want to confront the crushing reality that destroying systems of oppression is more than just liking Instagram posts, and "letting everyone do what makes them happy" is a notion that can cause disastrous harm.

58 notes · View notes

dadswithipads · 2 years

Text

Me live posting Static Shock episodes

"Ep 9 S1"

Gotta get up gotta go get up🎶💖.

"It's fool-icious!". Ok...

"Heavy C"

"Im hOngry". Uh oh heavy c gets akumatized.

Love them. "You know, lately is seems like whenever I have something to do on my personal time you're bugging me about Static stuff." Well, yes Virgil. He wants to be apart of this and without anything from daisy. Crush. Envy. Awww he got so sad too.

Ima say Virgil got a type with them brainiacs.

That "thing". --They sound like they're dating.

V-"was it a girl!?" S-"Thats funny. No, it was Richie. Who else calls you six times in ten minutes." WAAAAAA its just sweet.

How we feeling bout the fit??

Not a Fab fav. Virgil hon, he is concerned.

"Slipstream". No.

🎶

He hates sour crout. Good to know, V.

"For a big guy" bruh. Chill.

Good job Richie.

Aww. Boyfriends mad.

Why he look so mischievous. "Been there done that, thank you" -so richie is being played up as same basis as Daisy. Hmmmm. Y'all get what im implying.

They love each other so much. Can't stay mad at each other.

I need to find that adorable ass fanfic from sharons pov.

🎶HEY HYE HYE

aewwww. He saw that Richie was not inly unimpressed but also sad and it brought him down. They really fight like a couple. "Normal" im counting it as a motif now. Virgil is queer

Dam flashing warning. Hello??

Super Saiyan. Its been a minute.

So many references.

BRUH CHILL WITH THE WEIGHT JOKES.

ART💖

Everything making a comeback.

The instrumental reminds me of pair of kings.

#static shock #live reaction #virichie #virgil hawkins #richie foley

10 notes · View notes

vtori73 · 1 year

Text

I didn't go into my whole opinions of Gege Akutami in the tags from that last post MAINLY because I don't trust a LOT of these weebs, lol. Sorry but a LOT of y'all have really shown me just how piss poor y'all's reading comprehension REALLY is so I don't see a point in going into my opinions if y'all can't even properly digest what y'all read (& that saying something because Geges writing confuses me at times so yeah sometimes I'm just vibing when I'm reading jjk I may not know wtf that cursed technique exactly does but I'm enjoying the ride regardless, lol).

Like more than one person thinks Maki/Mei dynamic is incestuous which just makes me SO unbelievably angry & y'all REALLY need to stop assuming everything that isn't fighting between siblings automatically = something more. Not denying the one specific character, Meimei, isn't written... that way but to claim more are written that way is REALLY weird like... did we read the same manga??? Also not to mention a lot of people who read manga STILL seem to not understand that what is considered sexist/feminist in Japan isn't going to be 100% the same here and I will admit I do fall into doing this sort of thing by going off of western/US ideas of what's feminist/not sexist when analyzing JJK and other manga/anime HOWEVER... I do acknowledge this and also at least try to save room for differing opinions like that and not automatically just label something as progressive. I can't give big/exact examples but I know of times where people will go crazy about something being oh so progressive but people who are Japanese or know the culture well enough will go 'no... no that isn't."

Well, anyway, I was going to share my opinions on Gege Akutami's handling of women characters and if their work is either feminist or sexist but honestly I'm tired so I'll do that another day. The only other thing I want to add/explore a bit is that SOME of the backlash/hate/critiques of JJK just seem... rather familiar to me. Not going into it but yeah... I have a hard time taking SOME of this criticism seriously ESPECIALLY when I see people regularly kiss Odas feet for at best bare minimum stuff (or not even and also weird how multiple people give OP recognition for doing xyz in the tags of that poll and not JJK even though it also actually does do what they give OP credit for...)

Just... y'all have weird priorities and make excuses for ur faves REALLY quick and honestly if y'all can't somewhat equally analyze and critique media fairly I don't think ur opinions should really hold any weight in regards to what is or isn't sexist or any other prejudice really. And look some might say I'm doing the same and on the surface it probably does look like that because I honestly don't care to go into it with others online because of basically what I said in the beginning but also because JJK is something I enjoy more in private, besides reblogging &/or sharing fanart/merch I don't really do much else. I haven't done a thorough in-depth critique (or tried) yet because I don't see a point, not yet at least because while I do have various opinions some need more time to marinate and some just aren't going to be fully developed until the series is over.

BUT if anyone MUST know my basic opinion on JJK and if it's sexist or not my simple answer is... no, I don't believe it is BUT it does still have things it needs to work on though! Are the women well written? Some are, yes! And some aren't! I'm not going into it more than that because again I'm tired and that is being reserved for a more dedicated post that may or may not be made one day, lol.

0 notes

dylanobrienisbatman · 3 years

Note

The main problem with the whole mal vs the darkling thing in regards to being possessive (or really when it comes to any of their traits) is the fact that throughout, the darkling is clearly framed as the villain and his actions reflect that, whereas Mal as supposed to be the good guy and best romantic partner for Alina, and yet he has all these awful character traits and tendencies. So its less about how awful the Bad Guy is (since he's supposed to be), and more about how awful the person that we're supposed to believe is the best option for Alina is. I don't ship either, just my two cents.

Okay well... two things. First, your comment about "its less about how awful the bad guy is, since he's supposed to be", takes every comment I've made about Darkles out of context, which seems fitting since everything Darklina's spout about Mal is out of context. Him being the Bad Guy is fine, and if you like him AS A VILLAIN, and acknowledge all the bad shit he does, then my posts aren't for you. I think he's a very interesting villain, and a lot of the terrible shit he does that I have to keep making posts about make him a good villain, the problem is when the terrible shit the "Bad Guy" does is romanticized and viewed as the reasons why Alina SHOULD have picked him. So, don't assume everyone gets that "hes supposed to be awful". The point my post was making is that Darklina's love to call Mal possessive, but then turn around and act like Darkles literally enslaving her in somehow sexy and romantic. It's fucking not, and it's transparent as hell that y'all romanticize and sexualize the actually possessive character, and then project false character traits onto Mal. It's so transparent, it's almost funny.

But, more importantly, to your second, very wrong point, I wonder how much of the narrative about Mal having "awful character traits and tendencies" is actually a commentary on Mal as a character, or is it just Darklina's lying about things Mal has done and everyone accepting that misinterpretation as canon. Because, if were making a list...

Fuck boy - False! Mal was not a fuck boy! He was an attractive teenager who hooked up with consenting girls his age when he could, and he was not in a relationship during that time. Alina had never told him how she felt, so he is not beholden to her. (Also, nobody seems to have an issue with the fact that Darkles hooked up with Zoya in the show, that doesn't make HIM a fuckboy... interesting) (also also, nobody seems to discuss Darkles literally sexually assaulting Alina, and lying and manipulating her to get her to be physically intimate with him so he can use her... double interesting).

Slut Shames Alina - FALSE! The ever favourite callout line from Darklina's "He's all over you" isn't him slut shaming her. First, he has no idea what their relationship is like at that point, but more importantly, he is making an observation of her status in the little palace and how she has become his tool. He has dressed her up in his colors, made her put on a show for his benefit, and has created a situation where Alina appears to be his. Mal is noting that after months of searching for her, believing she was being hurt, tortured, or worse, when he arrives to save her, she looks like the Darkling's pet. (and, even if he WAS angry because he perceived them to be romantically involved, boy just spent months fighting for his life, lost multiple friends, and almost died to find her, all while coming to the realisation that he was in love with her, and then he shows up, after not hearing from her for months... I'd be pissed as hell too.) Important Note: He even acknowledges that what he said was wrong and tries to apologise, before Alina tells him that he was right. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 286). He also then apologizes, completely unprompted, for what he said. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 297).

Fat Shames Alina - False! This one is particularly laughable to me, because its one of the Darklina arguments that falls apart the second you actually read the scene. They are running for their lives in the forest, and Mal has to hunt and gather to feed them. He is noting that Alina's appetite has increased since he last saw her, and he makes a joke (ya know, how you do with friends) about how it would be easier to keep her fed if she still had her more meager appetite from before. He makes no comment on her weight, or her size, and he is not actually commenting on her appetite in a negative way, he is just acknowledging that it's a lot more work for him now that she eats more. Right before he says the line, the quote even proves that he isn't shaming her or thinking badly of her: "With a bemused expression, he watched as I gobbled down my portion and then sighed, still hungry". He is noting a change in her, and complaining that its made more work for him. If you think thats the same as fat shaming, well... thats a you problem.

Hates Alina's Powers - FALSE!!!! How to begin... do we talk about it was Mal's idea to hunt the stag in S&B, because he knew she needed it to be more powerful so she could stop the darkling? Do we talk about how he vowed to find the firebird for her, even though he was terrified of what all that power would do to her? Do we talk about how he literally died so she could achieve the power she needed to save the world? Or maybe we could talk about how he believed in her power more than anyone else, like when everyone was making bets about her abilities with the Cut and he knew she'd go further and better than anyone else expected her too, or when he tells her that he was never afraid of her powers, only what seeking all that power would do to her (which is literally the theme of the books, that power corrupts and seeking unmatched power can destroy you)? Mal being afraid of what is going to happen to Alina, being protective of her and worrying over her, is not the same as him hating her powers. He exists to help remind Alina of the themes of the story, and to guide her into maintaining her humanity.

Abusive - ... Do I even need to explain this one? Must I deign an explanation as to why this favourite Darklina lie is so fucking stupid, and also totally hypocrisy? No? Because we all know Darkles is actually the abusive one and they're trying to project their own shit onto Mal to further their abuse apologist agenda? Cool. Moving on.

Possessive of Alina - False! Throughout the entire series, Mal is quite literally the opposite of possessive, but yall just cant read. Not only does he quite literally step out of the way and allow Nikolai to court Alina without argument, which is the most direct example of him not being possessive, he also spends two full books believing, and repeatedly saying over and over and over, that they can't be together because he is not good enough for her. Mal believes, fully, that Alina deserves more than him, better than him, because he's just a tracker and a soldier, just a regular man with nothing to offer her but his love and his protection, and she is a Saint and should be a Queen. Possessiveness is the wish to own and control someone, it is literally the opposite of Mal believing that he's not good enough and doing everything he can to ensure that Alina achieves everything and gets everything he believes she is owed. A possessive character would not tell her to tell him to leave because he has nothing he can offer her, no title or land or country or crown. A possessive character would not promise to be the blade in her hand, because he believed he had nothing but the blood he could spill to offer her.

Angry - True! Yeah, omg, you caught us, Mal is ANGRY! Heaven forbid a teenager who is traumatized beyond belief and has to give up everything in his life, his position in the military (he deserted for her), his friends and the job he loved (Mikhail and Dubrov died for him, and he can't be a tracker in the army... because he deserted... for Alina), and, most importantly, he has to give up Alina (she should be Queen, he believes, and he has to give up the future he imagined with the girl he loves, who he was pretty sure loved him back, because she's a saint and queen and he's just a man), and more, is ANGRY. He has to be the one to find the amplifiers that he knows will end up hurting her, because thats what she needs to save the world. He has to sit by while Nikolai treats him like the dirt on his shoe and tries to woo Alina for his own personal gain (because Nikoalai did not love Alina. Maybe he came to care for her, but he proposed and spent all of S&S trying to get her to marry him when it was obvious they were not in love. He straight up says its so that the next King of Ravka can be married to the Sun Summoner. It's a power grab.) and he can't do anything about it. So yeah, Mal is angry. And yeah, sometimes he's even angry at Alina, just like sometimes she's angry at him. But they always find their way back, always apologize and try to be better for each other, and if you think anger is a toxic trait, and not simply a natural human emotion, might I suggest touching some fucking grass?

Idk why you thought I'd stand for Mal slander on my blog, cuz I will not. So, I'm gonna stop there, because I have shit to do today, but I really do wonder how much of Mal's 'toxic' or 'terrible' traits, that make him such a 'bad' love interest for Alina, really comes from Darklina's who refuse to actually read the text critically at all, and instead take everything he does and says out of context to further their agenda that Alina should have ended up as the Darkling's fucking slave forever, because thats the "girl power feminist" ending somehow. Mal supports her, loves her, sacrifices for her at every turn, and does everything he can do, to the point of literally dying for her, to ensure that she can defeat Darkles and save the world. He protects her, and when they end up happy and safe together on the orphange that they've rebuilt to help the children that were victims of Darkles war and genocide, he spends his days bringing her tea and cakes and flowers, kissing her silly under the stairs in the view of all the teachers, and calling her names like beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart for the rest of their ordinary life together, if love can ever be called that.

#Malina #anti darklina #malyen oretsev #mal oretsev #shadow and bone #if yall could just learn to fucking read... i am begging you

261 notes · View notes

darlingletshurttonight · 3 years

Text

yohan and K

so i was thinking of yohan and K. we all agree that the boy, and the couple, deserved more. i watched the show again focusing on their parts, but i'm sure i still probably missed a few things. i'll keep adding more to this post (this is already so long tho, like really long).

there's a lot of spoilers ahead for those who haven't watched the show or are only a couple of episodes in.

incoming a very long stream of consciousness :’)

yohan obviously knows k's real name. he's probably the only one alive and meaningful to K who knew his name. K didn't seem to have many people around him, and to have only one person know and maybe sometimes call your actual name definitely means a lot. the code name K was probably given to him by yohan. of course this was done for security reasons but i can't help imagine this being a way for K to know that he is not entirely for yohan. i just know that there would have been moments they shared where yohan has called out his actual name, like the way he did with "gaon-ah"

can y'all imagine how K's burial/cremation must've been carried out? just yohan and the rest of the team. and i guess this happened before all the shit went down with the "quarantine rescue" trial and stuff. but there's no doubt that yohan halted things for just a bit and sent him away respectfully.

K was in middle school when his parents died and he could only depend on yohan. initially i'd think that yohan probably raised K on the fuel of anger and revenge, sort of like elijah. just that K didn't have any kind of protection from the truth. he was on his own in that sense and the only support he had in dealing with all that was yohan. he gave him the choice to join him for revenge. he promised that the lady who caused this would repent. and yes, yohan might have started out using K's vulnerabilities and volatile emotions solely to his advantage.

but if that was the case, their relationship would've been very different from what we saw. if anything, middle schooler K would've been boiling with anger and yohan would've stopped him from doing something stupid and reckless. (yohan was K's soohyun to some extent in that sense, just that he was probably like "you should plan out your revenge bro" instead of "revenge is bad")

yohan has nurtured K to some extent. he has given him some sort of affection and a sense of reliability and safety for K to stick by his side and trust him even if he feels like he has ended up having nothing to lose. also many have pointed out that these two completely understood each other. they never spoke about their feelings but still knew what the other was thinking. they were each other's confidantes because they literally had no one else to lean on. yohan being the older one naturally took responsibility over this kid.

i can totally imagine yohan being K' s mentor of sorts too. i hate to make this comparison, but sort of like professor snake and gaon. atleast when yohan and K started working together, yohan must've taken him out for meals just to make sure he's eating, teaching him driving, buying him essentials, probably securing his family house and all that stuff. there's no way K would've stuck with yohan if he wasn't entirely devoted to him.

i also feel like yohan had given him that choice before, to leave. or let him take his own decisions like gaon. and K stayed. and wasn't it yohan who approached K? that's the biggest difference between gaon and K. gaon gatecrashes into all these walls built by yohan, whereas K was allowed to walk through all these walls, even if on the sidelines. but he didn't overstep, he didn't question, he didn't doubt yohan. there has to be a lot of trust and vulnerability from both sides there.

when gaon gets introduced to the team that's helping yohan, we don't hear K's backstory. all we know about his history is through yohan in a scene with kyunghee. it needed more weight and special attention because just a "kyunghee framed his parents" wouldn't have sufficed for the relationship they'd grown to have and the burden they'd grown to share. there's similarities between K's and gaon's backstories. they both lost their parents due to a corrupt system at a very young age. they both are pretty much under yohan's wing, and they grow to like him, initially for the revenge he's offering but eventually for the person he is.

also lets not forget that K was sun-ah's first target.

"you have nothing you wish to protect? there's no such person"

she pretty much knew everything about yohans inner circle. gaon was not entirely there yet, and attacking elijah would be too risky. K was a sure shot victim. his oldest ally. and it broke yohan. she says that she wanted yohan to be lonely like her, while jae hee, her right hand woman, stood right next to her. so it is very clear that what yohan and K had was not just "business related" it was beyond that. and she could sense that.

one of the scenes where i felt the most for K was this scene.

(”take me home” y’all. i know the literal translation is more like “let’s go home” but either way)

we all gush about the fact that elijah calls yohan home for dinner. and he is confused at first, but then he smiles. and then he goes home and has dinner with a loving set of people.

but what about K? he went home and probably had a beer by himself, alone and cold. i'd like to think he wasn't lonely, but we don't know enough about him to even guess.

y’all think he wouldn’t have noticed yohan smiling at the back? how many times must that have happened before? i’m not saying he would’ve wanted yohan to be as miserable as him or something. but rather, he’d probably never have imagined them having a light at the end of the tunnel.

K was a young adult with his own thoughts when yohan met him. and i feel like one of the reasons yohan kept a distance was because he knew he was consciously moulding K into being his loyal sidekick, always in the background. he couldn't ask for more than that. K became increasingly aware of that as he grew up and chose to go along with it. also, being as emotionally repressed as they were, it affected the kind of relationship they had. so they ended up lingering around the boundaries of that distance, never crossing it.

okay, in episode 12, K and gaon have a conversation without yohan around. i feel like there's so many layers to what K is saying here.

K admits to gaon that despite cha kyunghee getting punished for her crimes, he doesn't feel anything. to me it seems like he's gotten this realization a while back. he probably realized at some point that revenge was futile and he wasn't really doing this for revenge. and technically after kyunghee's death he could've left because she was his enemy, not the foundation. yet, he stayed to simply honor his loyalty to yohan. we all know yohan would've let him go if he wanted to leave. he's not one to beg, and K was aware of that. deep down he probably felt that maybe yohan would try to stop him. but he would only be speculating and he didn't want to take a chance. he didn't want to be in a position where he'd have to watch yohan choose whether he wanted him to stay or not.

then he tells gaon to not get too involved.

"i have nothing to lose, but you're different. if you stay by yohan's side, you'll end up losing everything, including yourself"

it feels like K never had the opportunity to think about a future where revenge was not his aim. even if he did, he just decided to ignore it because he had become too comfortable with looking at the world through yohan's lenses. and he ended up being okay with it because that's how he grew up. he was aware that he was too deep into it to go back. that was his rational thought. but i can also see that this attachment with yohan was the only familiar thing that has stuck with him all this while.

he couldn't imagine a world without yohan.

the way soohyun was gaon's anchor, his comfort zone, yohan was K's. just that their ideas of comfort and familiarity were different.

there's so many ways the show makes parallels between yohan/k and gaon/soohyun where their roles kinda interchange sometimes too.

this scene directly follows the part where soohyun asks yohan to leave gaon alone.

i think yohan watched as K grew to make him the center of his universe. and even if he knew this wouldn't be good, it was like candy to him. he could't resist it and let himself enjoy it because no one had ever done that before. not to mention, it was giving him a lot of advantage because K did all the snooping around. and then they both reached a point where they were both aware that while K did start out for revenge, he stayed for yohan. yohan was all he knew.

and K could feel how yohan was getting swayed, or affected, to say the least, because of gaon and that was messing with K's comfort zones. we see this scattered across some episodes. when yohan almost kills the furniture guy for planting a bomb in his office. we see it when yohan confesses that its weird to have someone understand and sympathize with him, with no negative connotation there. i think K was starting to question his sense of purpose when he saw gaon going on the same path as him, but the fact that yohan was so inviting despite gaon being a risk factor, slightly ticked him off.

there was an image of yohan he had in his mind, and he wasn't seeming like that anymore. he was so dependent on that image of yohan that he probably thought of questions like what happens after we do get revenge? would he leave K alone then? would K have anyone left after yohan has no use of him? what happens to him after this? i'm sure he thought of all these questions, and never got around to asking them, maybe to not cross the line, maybe because he was scared of the answers.

either he doesn't want anyone else to go through this, or he's let it consume himself too much and doesn't want to let go of yohan. i personally feel like it's a mix of both.

to me that scene between gaon and K was more of K self justifying/protecting his familiarity under the disguise of a warning to gaon. K did believe what he said about yohan, but he had accepted it for himself as long as he was the only one there in that equation.

it felt like the adult equivalent of elijah saying, "if you go to prison, this house will be mine" to yohan. her motive there was to scare yohan into staying with her for her own comfort, disguised as a threat.

the death scene.

it was so difficult to sit through this scene because i wasn't able to conjure up any way they could save this situation. unfortunately it’s K's death that really rubs it in your face that yohan and K had a much deeper relationship than what it looks like on the surface.

before i could even figure out that yohan was going to climb up, K was already pleading him to stop. they spoke so much through their eyes and body language. they knew what each other’s next step would be.

yohan wouldn't go up and down a flight of stairs with a gunshot to his stomach for many people (more like he would but not many people had bothered to reach that level with him). when K is hanging and yelling at yohan to not come closer, not go upstairs, i think that's when he realized that he did have someone to lose. yohan himself.

this montage was just painful to the core. this scene screams loyalty and love.

there's another reason i made the professor/gaon and yohan/K parallel. this scene is overlapped with gaon calling out for his professor who's apparently stuck in that messy "rescue" situation, similar to K calling out to yohan to leave him and save himself. K and gaon, both risked their lives to save their confidantes, they always readily plunged into dangerous situations for them. but yohan had K's back (or so he thought, his intentions were right)

which is why i can't help but conclude that K to yohan was what the professor and soohyun were to gaon.

yohan is at his wit's end here. he has no solutions, no escapes, no ideas. he just never thought of a possibility that K would ever be in danger. the person he used to send to check up on everyone else who would be in danger. did he just never think anyone would try taking him away?

K is shaking his head at yohan as yohan helplessly looks at him. was he saying it's the end of the line? it's time to let go?

y’all the pain on yohan’s face. he has to face the death of the first person he had any relationship with out of his bloodline. this boy who trusted him and devoted the rest of his life to him and his motives.

then we hear the most gut wrenching scream accompanied with the crashing sound of K’s body and his skull or bones breaking.

gone.

yohan goes batshit crazy, not in a physical sense, but you can see the "monster awaken" as he threatens sunah and then fucking grins. i couldn't even look at sunah here without wanting to gently lay her in a pool of lava.

yohan lets out this bone chilling scream and his face is full of agony, pain, guilt and sorrow. he's leaning against the railing and watching K bleed.

he reaches downstairs. with a bullet in his stomach, yohan bends down to be near K. he caresses his hair and we have a fleshed out confession from him.

"it was almost over. you just had to live your own life, me and you"

he had plans for K.

yohan is a man who bought a healthy food shopping mall for his house help. you think he wouldn't go above and beyond to give K a happy and fulfilling life too?

i just wonder what kind of plans he must've made though. they must've talked about this stuff. they couldn't have always been so stoic to not even indirectly talk about something that doesn't revolve around the foundation and schemes and paybacks.

i want to see those lingering gazes as yohan figures out K's interests, the soft smiles to himself when he imagines K doing anything he actually enjoys in his life later on, thinking about the possibilities of K allowing him to keep in touch. you can't tell me this didn't happen. he absolutely thought of a future for and with K.

when yohan regains consciousness and looks at K's body, he doesn't have the same kind of expression on his face anymore. its much more guarded. there's regret, anger and determination. his sorrow is hidden. i feel like if there weren't people around, we'd still see sorrow there. but they were extremely discreet about each other. and i don't mean romantically or sexually. even in a platonic sense they only ever showed any emotion or intimacy to each other when there was nobody watching them. it's like both of them had let the other person secretly creep into the cracks of all the walls they'd built between themselves and other people.

i dont need to make the soohyun and K death parallels because it's obvious and there’s much better written posts on that. but there’s some stuff i noticed.

firstly, about yohan not telling gaon about K's death. there was little opportunity to do so. and why should he? gaon had explicitly said that he was not going to be part of yohan's ways anymore. K was exactly that. so yohan probably didn't feel like gaon needed to know about that. then soohyun dies and gaon is grieving for her. not a time yohan would want to say "K died too" but i also do want to see how gaon would've reacted.

what i found interesting was, the way gaon slumps and kneels in front of yohans table, slamming his wrists and sobbing is so similar to yohan when he’s on the railing. the restlessness in their posture, uncertainty of their own reactions, the sheer anger and forcing themselves to come to terms with it.

of course yohan was thinking of his brother too, but he was still recovering from K's death AND consoling gaon. he simply buried his pain of K's absence, like how he buried whatever relationship they had all this time. how do you explain a relationship like this? it wasn't like fate brought them together or something, they had tied themselves together and the knots kept tightening as time went by.

K’s death was on the forefront of his mind right now.

before leaving, sunah showed him that gaon is in danger as well. she targeted two pillars at once. it seems like gaon and K were two sides that kept yohan balanced. but she was personally present to see his agony over losing K because the real gaon episode was yet to come. i think she just wanted to see how yohan would manage to save gaon. yohan knew that soohyun would drop everything to save gaon, the way yohan would've dropped everything to save K or vice versa.

killing off K and soohyun within one episode is the biggest parallel the writers gave us. their lives entirely revolved around yohan and gaon respectively. while yohan and gaon never reciprocated their feelings for them, they still absolutely needed them for their sanity and to keep themselves in check. however, soohyun got to live her dream of being with gaon as a lover, even if for a bit.

the fact that we don't know K's exact feelings is the biggest tragedy. it doesn't have to be romantic, sexual, explicit or anything specific at all. relationships between people can be complicated and don't require labels, especially when they've shared their trauma and grown up together for a long time, sharing each others loss and burden. there was more to it than what we saw.

yohan and K needed each other. how they gave each other those affirmations, if at all, is unknown to us. but they weren't content because they had grown to like each other as humans, rather than allies to destroy some people. they had devoted their entire existence to revenge and found it difficult to really see the other slog everyday for this cause. but they still stuck to it because they had promised each other that. it was revenge that brought them together and if that wasn't there anymore, why should they be in the same space?

it’s safe to assume that K had let go of the whole revenge thing a long time back, and yohan definitely sensed it. but he also sensed that K still stayed for their sake. for whatever it was they both shared.

to have gaon "confess" to soohyun, there had to be a tipping point. gaon's presence at kyunghee's suicide spot was that tipping point for soohyun to understand that she doesn't give a shit if gaon goes around contributing to people's death as long as he's safe and sound in front of her eyes. if K had survived that episode, that would be the tipping point for yohan and K. something would have come out of that. a confession of sorts, some display of concern that was beyond tears and a gentle stroke of comfort, something more. some love language being played out. it would've definitely shaken up what they had till now.

like i mentioned earlier, yohan would have have gone above and beyond to make K's future as comfortable as possible. regardless of whether he was going to be a part of it or not. i think he was going to leave it up to K, whether he wanted yohan to be a part of his life after all this or not.

there's no question about yohan not wanting to be a part of K's life. did he think he deserved to be there in K's future? no. but did he want to? definitely yes. but yohan would never impose his wishes, not anymore. he would let K choose. and whatever he chose, yohan would take his decision in stride.

unfortunately they just never got there.

#the devil judge #kang yohan #yohan x k #yohan and k #kim gaon #soohyun #the devil judge gifs #devil judge #ji sung #lee ki taek #jinyoung #kdrama #tvn the devil judge

115 notes · View notes

lady-eny · 2 years

Text

TITLE: TIME TO TIME (13/13)

Some tags: Canon compliant, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Minor Mikenana, Veterans, Canon-typical violence, Character Study, Love to Hate, Hate to love, Mutual Pining

Summary:

When Hange met Levi, little did she know everything that would come after.

Not just titans and the end of the world, but their own personalities, problems, and not to mention those developing feelings none of them want to acknowledge.

Over time their relationship changes, for good and worse. But at the end they always come back to each other.

It’s only a matter of time.

—AKA the LeviHan journey. From meeting to friends, to something more, to hating each other (or do they?), to rekindling their relationship, etc. —

Cross-posting on: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Notes: Thank y'all for reading this far, every single one of you who has been following this, I love you all and I'm insanely glad for you.This was always meant to be some sort of companion piece to the canon material, filling the blanks and adding a little more context to the LH journey. ✨Until the next time! not me rushing to write a reincarnation AU to heal my wounded heart

Chapter 13 Leaders to Timeless soulmates

Maybe love is also letting go.

Everything hurts.

Every. Fucking. Part of him.

There was only blackness and numbness and then bright, burning pain flooded him.

Levi only wants to return to the nothingness. Stop feeling. Just end the agony.

STOP STOP STOP PLEASE, he screams in his head. It’s a kind of desperation he never met before; one he wishes he never did. He’s hyper-aware of his body, of the warmth of life departing from him, of everything being so, so cold.

His surroundings are unknown. The anguish from trying to rise to the surface and breath in, the need to open his eyes and look at where he is, are the sole things keeping him alive, although caught up in pain.

He’s been injured before, but it never felt like this. Is he dying? If he is, why can’t he die fast enough?

His eyelids manage to open, yet only shadows hang over him, and it’s terrifying. Maybe he’s not actually alive; rather, in hell.

Distorted cries drill his ears. It’s such a familiar sound… he knows its source, the owner of that timbre… Levi forces himself to blink, to clear his view because he has to see her.

His vision barely focuses, but it’s enough. While everything is in darkness, she shines in the middle of it all, holding him. Her edges are soft, somewhat blurred, and everything around her remains plain black, but it’s undoubtedly Hange. If she’s here, there’s no way he’s in hell, is it? He senses her hands, cold upon his searing skin, somewhere or everywhere on his body—he can’t tell where, exactly, yet feels her comforting presence, her protective energy enveloping him.

He makes out her features—she’s quite the mess. Her cheeks are colorless, perhaps paler than the rest of her, locks of hair dirty and damp. He wants to open his mouth and joke about her expression, the fear and horror that emerges from it, but deep down he feels the same, and anyway, his mouth is unresponsive.

The moment her shape turns sharp and consistent, he feels liberated.

Hange is here, I’m safe, and I can let go. The painful jail of his body suddenly discharges him and he’s able to float and swim and be, finally, free. He seeks the void. The lack of pain; of panic; of the alarm that comes from looking at her like this.

But she doesn’t let him. Doesn’t let him lose himself, her hands on him and her voice driving him mad, disrupting his calm as she always does. She doesn’t allow him to go. He feels her frenzy, senses her despair, and hears her words—words he can’t understand. Why are they for? Why won’t she let him—?

No. He can’t go and leave her like this.

I’m fine, he wants to tell her, but his tongue is the weight of a corpse. And truth to be told, he knows he’s not. He’s dying. Still, he doesn’t want to die like this, not in her arms at the very least—that would destroy her, so I cannot, he resolves, thoughts sluggish even to himself.

Levi stays awake by sheer force of will, time going on in strange ways. One second he’s looking at her face, the next he loses her, and then more and more coldness floods him. Thousands of harsh sounds. Pressure everywhere. And lastly, there’s something hard under him and her face is in front again, this time with dripping dark hair stuck to her temples.

He finally discerns her words.

“Stay awake!” Her tone is commanding—when she’s like this, you obey, no complaints whatsoever. He does as ordered, but that’s when she disappears from his sight, and fear and panic ram him again with full power.

At a distance from Levi, who’s on the ground and resting under a tree, Hange observes him, chest so narrow that she fears it won’t ever be the same again. It’s trying to kill her, shrinking and cramping her heart while that. Devouring what’s left from her lungs, from her hopes of a good outcome of all this, and preventing her from breathing.

Her body feels like one from someone else; she walks and acts but she’s not fully here, mind lingering by his side, his agonizing body… She slaps both of her cheeks.

Not time to think about this, not now and not yet.

Hange crouches and hides her figure behind a vast tree, its branches and leaves veiling her from the coast. Waits, eyes fixated on the empty horizon. They should come any minute now. They have to, otherwise, Levi is doomed.

Her restless fingers rub the rusty surface of the tree. Teeth chattering, she balls her hands, but they’re trembling and trembling regardless of her desire to remain stoic. To focus. She’s fine. Fine, fine, fine—the word repeats as an echo in her head. She has to be fine. Or he’ll die.

She never pictured a day where he’d be dying in her arms—always thought it was going to be the other way around, in all honesty. Reality is worse than anything her mind could have conjured. Memories of Levi’s broken face, his wrecked body, his possible last glance at her, stab the back of her eye.

Her breathing grows ragged, and in seconds she’s gasping. She hadn’t noticed it, but her palms are black. Mudded and bloodied—his blood, all over her hands. There was so much blood, with him on the verge of dying, dying by the weapon she created.

He can still die.

A spasm invades her abdomen and she curves over herself, trying to bring air in and let it go and bring it in over again and again.

Palms on her knees and struggling to even her breathing, her nails dip into her skin to hold onto something, even if that something is physical pain. She still has to survey the area and ensure that no one tracks them. Take care of Levi’s many wounds. Come back to defeat Zeke—or whoever is in charge of this madness. It’s easier when she lists stuff like this, as tasks. More manageable.

First, the most pressing matter: they aren’t safe, and Levi is dying. She can’t lose precious time mending her heart.

Her breath’s rhythm slowly, very slowly, returns to normal, and that’s when she hears them.

Murmurs.

Hange’s head peeks out from behind the tree. Her heart drops to the ground and wriggles on the earth at the sight of them—she recognizes these faces, these voices blending in the breeze. She can even recall their names, but the moment they crop up in her head, she shuts them down. Nothing good can come from putting names to their heads. They are no longer her subordinates if they are here. They’re her enemies.

Fortunately, she spots a light bag swinging on the horse’s saddle, the one the Survey Corps always carry on missions. And their weapons—yes, they’re exactly what she needs.

Hange picks up a heavy, scratchy branch.

One of them shrugs. “I don’t know, but they said she should be around here.”

“That’s what they said, but the Commander’s not as dumb as to stay.”

The first one who talked, a slim man, nears her tree, while the other explores further.

She doesn’t ponder; charges at him the second he leans towards her hiding place. Hits the side of his head with all her might, an explosive thud rumbling through her ears from the impact. Hits once, twice, until he doesn’t move. She lifts his rifle, seizing it up, and returns to the shelter of the tree.

The other one, a short-haired girl, heard the commotion and is making her way back. With her face closer, Hange recalls a not-so-distant day, when the very same features lent her one of her books. Even though months ago, Hange still hasn’t got around to reading it. Now she probably never will.

Her throat burns as she concentrates on her growing figure. She points the rifle at the girl, hands sticky by sweat.

She can’t stop a single tear from sliding down her cheek.

Hange pulls the trigger and recoils. The sound reverberates through the air, deafening her for a few seconds, her skull feeling like an airball.

She inspects the bodies, confirms they’re dead, and hides them behind a tree. Detaches the bag and opens it, ascertaining that it effectively contains something to help Levi. And frees the horse; she can’t let it attract any unwanted attention.

Equipped with the bag and the riffle, she glances back at the coast, wondering if more people will come. Would she be able to handle another round of this?

Would she have another choice?

Hange rushes back to Levi. There’s no time to think about the bruised corpses she’s leaving behind.

***

Despite trying to stay awake, Levi fell asleep. Only the moment she reappears (how much time later?) consciousness returns to his body. He studies her through his heavy lashes, but everything is fuzzy. She seems to be carrying a rifle and a bag—where could that have come from?

Behind her, the sun’s glistening, swallowing her entirely.

What happened? Hange… she saved him, didn’t she? And endangered her life while that.

If a part of him still believed himself to be disposable after being left behind so many times before, it suddenly vanishes. His mind can’t wrap how she could have died, how she risked her life—for him. How could someone like her, so strong, and kind, and smart, and radiant, have been willing to go to such lengths to save his life? It makes him want to laugh out loud.

Although still feeling like dying, it’s easier to keep himself from blacking out. Hange mends his wounds while a sharp pain lunges at him. He tries to remain quiet and succeeds, his body not betraying his attentive state, as she believes him to be asleep. She talks to him while working, about his Ackerman blood and their circumstances. He can almost trick himself into believing he’s back in the barracks, hearing her babbles.

He can’t force his limbs to move, yet feels himself recovering. Slowly, but steadily.

“Maybe… we should just live here together. Right… Levi?”

His already erratic heart skips a couple of beats, and when it recovers it hammers against his chest with greater force. He tries to open his mouth and answer something, anything, but he doesn’t know how—how to move, and also how to reply.

He wants it. He wants it so, so bad—didn’t know how much until those words slipped from her lips. At the doors of death, his biggest desire is to stay here, with her. Not just now, he realizes, but for a long time. In those constant restless nights in the barracks, he used to recall her dream like a secure place that made him calmer. Ever since she planted those fantastic words about a war-less future, years ago, it also became his dream.

If he thinks enough about it, he can almost touch it, watch it unfold all around.

Hange returns to their little place—their home—late as always, eyes fagged but with a smile from ear to ear. He doesn’t have to restrain himself anymore, so he dashes to her and wraps his arms around her, sucking in her scent, feeling her corporeity and vivacity. Her arms wrap around him, too, and squeeze. He takes a deep sigh, making his limbs light and loose.

He sees himself preparing her a cup of tea. They sit around a table, warmth spreading through his body, and talk about their day; share their lives without titans around, nor war. Only them.

It’s paradise.

Suddenly, the world flashes white, and a voice booms from all around. Eren’s speech is brief but poignant. It serves to make him alert, allows him to gather enough will to rise, quickly remembering where he is and what he was doing.

“Levi!”

His mouth sputters, “Beast… Where is he…”

Her hands grip his shoulders and push him down. “You don’t need to get up.”

As her worried face bends to him and he catches sight of the wagon under construction behind her, he comprehends what’s the correct answer.

They can’t. And perhaps most importantly, she can’t. She’d never be able to. Years ago, she devoted herself to humanity, as much as he did. Their duty is their priority and comes before happiness and bliss. It is first, always first. Because if it isn’t, what is going to happen to this world? With all the innocents out there? What did all their friends and comrades give their lives for?

He knows her so well… Even when he wants freedom, peace, and everything in between, he’s incapable to give them to her. And it hurts him the most, even more than his injuries, his impotence in the face of such a reality. He lacks enough force to defeat the entire world and materialize the one that should have always belonged to them.

“You’re right. I can’t.” Her face falls, sadness sparkling in her eye. “What are we going to do? The rumbling… A genocide is undergoing right under our noses and…” She presses her eyes closed, surely blaming herself again. “We failed. There’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

“Of course there is.”

“And what is that?”

Levi blinks. Good question. “I don’t know. We have to figure that out, but you’re not one to give up. You’re the Commander of the Survey Corps, after all.”

That seems to diffuse her turmoil. She perks up, serenity settling on her face. “That’s right. We have to stop Eren.”

Pride fills him like every time she’s this secure and determined and shows her great strength. Driven by his current emotions, he manages to spread his arms and lift his blanket. Invites her in.

Hange hesitates. Lets herself lie next to him, close enough that he can smell her; sweat mixed with roses, and rawly herself. She places her face against the exterior side of his arm, covering it from his sight. Her hot breath burns on his skin; he takes hold of a lock of her hair and tangles it around one of his remnant fingers.

Remnant fingers; what is he going to do now that he’s even more useless than before?

Abruptly, she stiffens and props herself up. Looks firmly into his eyes.

“W—why didn’t you… want me back?”

Levi freezes, his bandaged hand mid-air. What the hell?

“What the hell?” He drops his hand.

“We…” Her features harden, and she takes a long inhalation. He can’t read this look in her eyes, which confuses him further. “We said we were going to be honest with each other. We promised.” Her tone is horse and imploring. But imploring for what?

“I… What are you talking about?” That never happened. Maybe he’s delirious. That would explain this, as he doubts that his injuries include memory loss.

Hange tilts her chin up and stares at him under her lashes, straight to the eye. She’s so close that her breath tickles his face. What’s in her mind? He searches for answers on her face. She doesn’t flinch under his scrutiny, as brave and beautiful as always, but also as puzzling as never before.

At his lack of reply, Hange’s face sinks into his chest, disappointment, shame, and hurt overtaking her.

Not knowing the reason is breaking her. Why couldn’t he return her so-long-buried feelings?

Shut up, Hange! She ignores the voice in her head. It means well and wants to protect her, has always prevented her from making a mistake relating to Levi. But it is so faint, now. These past hours with Levi almost dying, she killing her comrades, the rumbling… it all has piled up and collapsed her defenses.

She just needs to know why.

“I kissed you.” She’s tried so, so hard to forget that particular moment, that her voice sounds foreign and croaky, pronouncing these words. “I kissed you and you… didn’t.” He even gave her his back at that time, she reflects, cloudy memories playing in her head.

His dark eyes on her are too much to bear, so she darts her gaze to his quivering throat. Keeps talking, “I know there’s no logical reason for not loving someone in a certain way. I know. And we’re friends, it’s not like… but I…” She trails off, unsure of how to communicate her most profound secrets, the ones she didn’t even like thinking about. “Oftentimes, I used to feel that you did reciprocate, and that’s why I did it. I thought we were feeling the same. I thought that I knew you so well, but back then I didn’t know that, occasionally, I could misread you when it mattered the most.”

Tortuous silence.

She used to constantly run away from these feelings because losing focus was dangerous for humanity, as Erwin liked reiterating. However, there was another reason, one she wants to acknowledge even less. For all she knows, he doesn’t have an answer because there’s none. It’s possible she’s just a failure that doesn’t deserve that kind of affection. Or any, maybe, which she already knew.

Silly her.

Her face sinks deeper into him, unable to raise. It’s so familiar, his skin, his smell, his firmness; it merely makes it worse. Her body automatically relaxes at his proximity, his calm pulse beneath her ear soothing her brain. It’s like a betrayal, to feel like this.

She’s so tired of nothing ever going her way.

Levi feels his chest shrinking by the hurt expression on her face. He hates it; wants to tear it so she never gets to wear it again, less directed at him.

“You—” He pauses, choosing the precise words to drag up his throat, which constricts achingly. “You didn’t misread me.” His statement vibrates through his chest.

Hange lifts her head and looks for the truth within his features. What does she discover? He isn’t able to keep it nonchalant.

“Is that so?” Her volume is so low that he leans in.

Cheeks colored red, she starts backing away, but he places his good hand on her forearm and pulls her to him, wrapping his sore arms around her. He doesn’t want her to go away, not now and not ever. He tightens his wrap.

His body travels to those moments when they watched the stars together and she drifted closer; when they were freezing in that cave out of the walls, and she hugged him to keep the heat; when they anchored each other after everyone else disappeared. A feeling of wholeness, of perfect peace, overflows him, having her between his arms.

This time, the words flow out of his mouth by themselves.

“Y—you are my best friend, and m—my partner,” he mutters against her hair, “and it has always been like that. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

My four-eyes, now and forever.

“Levi… where did you learn such sappy words?” She can’t bite down the smile from her face. Somehow, to be proved wrong of many of her less pleasant thoughts makes her dizzy. And for Levi to say these kinds of words… is she dreaming?

If she is, she doesn’t want to wake up, but to stay in this moment and forever feel his affection spreading throughout her.

“You’re crazy if you believe that’s sappy, four-eyes.”

She grins and clings to him, pressing herself closer. All of a sudden, she remembers his wounds and rolls away, careful of his bandages. She moves to her side and he does as well, ending face to face. She closes her eyes, aware of the rise of temperature in her body, of her rapid heartbeats, of Levi’s weighty stare on her. Feels a tingling on her cheek, and snaps her eyes open to discover Levi’s fingertips caressing her temple, her cheekbone, her lips, sending chills running all through her.

“I love you, too,” she blurts out.

A corner of his mouth twitches, and little wings flutter in her stomach; lungs, and head, and heart drowning with love. How did she spend so much of her life without knowing him? Such a beautiful person, gentle soul, and selfless being… and he loves her, too. Her mind keeps swirling with that notion.

“Do you think that after this, we can go and watch the stars in the warehouse again? Oh, and we should visit Brownie, too! And I’d finally make time to study your blood…”

“You won’t ever step anywhere near my fresh blood, Hange.”

She inclines and smacks a peck where his mouth is under the bandages. His visible eye widens, and his face breaks into a smile. It isn’t quite clear with half of it covered, yet his eye gleams with bliss.

Wrinkles appear at the corner of his eye—so tiny and so new, just out to the world for the first time.

“We have to head off and look for a way to fix this…” Hange yawns, feeling heavy and comfortable. They can go in a few minutes…

Truly, she doesn’t want to leave. But after all of this, they’ll finally be allowed some time off, right?

The prospect makes her smile.

***

His ears hear every word coming out from her mouth, but they don’t get to reach his revolving brain.

Her words, familiar and sincere, have always been like arrows that he either dodges with ease or receives with open arms. But he didn’t know that those he allowed the closest to his heart contained poison at their tips, ready to wound him whenever things inversed, whenever she, by herself, decided so. All her words, all her wishes to stay forever turn sickly in a second, acrid where he stored them in the depths of his heart, as she feigns casualness while saying goodbye to everyone without even deigning to look at him.

Levi wishes the explosion would have rendered him deaf, only to never listen her thick voice as she declares, the brave face he loves so much in place, “I led us all to this point. I kept moving forward, even if it meant killing so many of my comrades. It’s time I take responsibility for that.”

Their meaning threatens to suffocate him. He must be interpreting her wrong, yes?

She would never decide such a thing without consulting him.

She wouldn’t just leave him like this.

She wouldn’t.

Her next words come out muffled as if muttered far, far away from him. They get drowned by the ringing in his ears. His wobbly limbs attempt to stay stiff, but nausea climbs up his throat and he’s numbed trying to make sense of it all, yet refusing to do so.

“And that’s that. See you guys later.”

His mind sharpens, racing heartbeats unraveling it from his confusion and pain. She didn’t just say what he thinks she did. His ears must be wrong.

He’s going to wait for her at their home, and she’ll fall asleep daily in his arms. She’ll be happy, safe, and full of life. Won’t ever wear this fake smile she’s giving him as she walks to him.

Mist recedes from his head but he struggles to grip it, grip the images it brought. It’s his dear dream, and it’s so, so close. No, he refuses to let it go, to let her go. He won’t. Why can’t he have it? Why would they take her away, too? Why can’t he get what he wants, for once?

Wait. Please don’t leave me yet.

She didn’t even ask for his input. This is a stupid, stupid decision. And what if they don’t get into that plane, and what if humanity perishes? In this second, when his heart is tightening in desperation, he can’t agree to condemn both of their futures upon eternity.

Fuck humanity, fuck their duty. Fuck them all.

“Hey, four-eyes…” She lingers next to him, not fully facing him. He’ll stop her; he’ll physically restrain her if necessary, no matter how much it hurts his wounded body. But he won’t let her go.

“You understand. It’s finally here, you know? It’s my turn. I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now.” Her voice tries to be enthusiastic, but it’s tearful instead.

He feels cold all over. Naturally, he understands her, he always does. But he doesn’t want to; he wants to ignore her, disregard what she wants and only do what he wishes to, which is carrying her over his shoulder and taking her away from all of this. He can’t conceive his existence without her liveliness bringing him joy. First and foremost, he doesn’t want to.

Burdensome tiredness crushes his body as he looks at her eye. He identifies the resolution hiding within it, even if capped under fear and sadness. He already knows the outcome.

He’s losing her in ways he can’t grasp.

“So just let me go, will you?” She seals their destiny with these simple words.

He feels the splintering sensation of his heart cracking open, feels how it literally breaks, fracture after fracture scorching his chest. He stares down at his hands. How can he stop her, when she asks him not to? When did he ever deny her anything?

Why, he wants to scream. Why to the clouds, to her and himself. Why can’t they be more selfish and leave everything behind to be together forever? What was the point of meeting her if she was always meant to go far away?

His gaze locks on hers and he finds all his pain reflected in her brown eye. Yet, while his still convey desperation, hope, and powerlessness, hers is certain and mournful. It’s decided, for her.

What am I going to do without you?

This is his greatest fear, the one he always knew would happen while watching her flying through the woods, yelling in joy. She’s always been a free spirit; ever since he met her, she was bouncing from place to place, switching between tables, not sticking to any in particular. Whereas she was in an adventure, researching, or jumping with her gear, she extended her wings and flew above them all, simple mortals.

She always looks up for answers, and with her strong will, finds them. Only she could have achieved everything she did, taken the burden of her position, and done such an outstanding job under their impossible circumstances. Only she could look in the eyes of her loved ones and act collected to prevent her true pain from showing. Only she could give up her dreams, her hopes, and love, for a possibility. A small opportunity. To let them fly as she’s been doing all this time and grant a chance to this world.

I still need you by my side. Still have many things to tell you, a lot of teas to brew for you.

She’s asking him to let her be free, to let her fly high and conclude her mission, unleashing herself from the jail of their duty at last. Her happiness at discovering the tiniest bit of information was taken away long ago, among her friends and the idea of a better future out of the walls. He’s aware that this is for humanity and that she’ll never smile again if she doesn’t give her all to save them. Knows this has nothing to do with him, but with her and her wings finally spreading out, as he always knew they would, someday.

He always knew that one day she would fly away and leave him behind, and he loved her still.

A knot twists painfully in his throat. It takes all from him not to break in front of her, not to load more pain on her shoulders.

Not yet, he tells himself. When all is over, you can break.

“Dedicate your heart,” he tells her, the quote out of himself for the first time, placing his hand on her heart. In the end, that’s where his own heart belongs, where he has dedicated it all this time. It’s always been hers, and now she’s going to take it with her.

Her eye widens. She gets him, of course. She always does.

He turns away with muscles exhausted, yet thoughts and ideas racing, seeking a better solution, but he can’t. She’s the smart one. He sweeps all of this to the back of his mind, tries to block the sorrow that closes on his chest.

Levi doesn’t like this world. Even when with all the bad there’s good, it used to be amusing because of her. But now?

As he gets on the flying machine, he allows only one topic to linger in his mind. He has to save humanity; it’s the only thing left for him. He can’t let everything they’ve sacrificed go to waste.

The sudden high-pitched bawls of the kids, their screams of her name between cries, oppresses his heart, makes him clench his fist and gasp for breath. What are they seeing? What’s happening? He squeezes his eyes closed. If he lets himself think about this, he won’t be able to stand up again.

Her words, uttered many years before, float to his brain.

“They aren’t gone,” she blurted out so long ago, solemn. “It’s impossible. Nothing ever gets completely destroyed. They’re just somewhere else.”

The notion is still too sweetened for his life, but he wants to believe she was right, that no one disappears like that. He needs to think she isn’t completely gone.

Thus, he mutters, “See you… Hange.” Because there’s no way he won’t. It’s impossible for him to fathom such a thing; he’ll definitely do it. Which means that there’s no need to say goodbye. For the first time, he concedes himself a small act of selfishness, and asks for something, “Keep watching us.”

As she used to do in his first expedition, impressed with his abilities with the vertical maneuvering equipment. When her gaze followed him as he prepared tea, as he cleaned the tables and suppressed a laugh on their late meetings in the kitchen. Whenever she looked at him with a smile emerging from her soul.

That’s the picture he keeps watching behind his eyelids, and the one he saves forever in his heart.

***

Year 855.-

The ancient hotel where they’re staying is quite old. ‘Classic’, Onyankopon called it. Apparently, it’s an enormous privilege to be allowed here, as there aren’t many more buildings like this, and the ones that endure are beyond protected and admired.

Most of the world is full of ashes, with Paradis as the only intact corner. This side is too far from the eldian island, though, and here people have resumed their ordinary routines; they go to work, attend school, and curse eldians as a sport, again and again.

The waitress from the hotel’s restaurant, a small robust blonde, glares at him before placing his teacup on the table with a crash. So, she knows who he is and where he comes from. He eyes his tea. Could it contain a spit?

Upon arrival, people greeted them like heroes. Levi found it funny: hero here, a traitor in what used to be his home. Even though they’re among the few welcomed eldians, not everyone likes having their race close to home, not even if they’re the so-called ‘saviors of the world’.

This world is such a strange place.

Not only that; this world is so different, ever since The Rumbling. For instance, it’s smaller, the population decimated after the colossal titans’ walk. It’s also quieter and sadder—even after all this time, people remember the terror as if it happened yesterday, and Levi can’t blame them.

Above all, this world is duller. He’s unsure if it seems like that to him alone, but even with the sunniest of days peeking out from behind the buildings, it lacks the glow that used to characterize it, the force with which it landed on his shoulders while training with…

Levi struggles to remain up—figuratively, at least. He can barely get up and take a few steps, and in that sense, Onyankopon, Gabey, and Falco have been of great help. They’re the ones who got him a wheelchair and gift him their company on every trip.

Traveling is the only thing he does as of late. They’re spreading the message Armin wants to communicate, seeking peace between the world and Paradis, even if the island rejects it. Yet peace isn’t easy to reach. Although without the power of the titans the island is vulnerable, no one dares to make any move against it yet; nevertheless, aggressive behavior has been a constant, and he doesn’t doubt that at the smallest opportunity, the world will turn to war again.

He doesn’t know how he feels about that. Is war really the only thing they know? Can’t they live peacefully for once? He can’t find enough interest to decide anymore.

Onyankopon exhales and flips the newspaper’ page. “We’ll have to travel again, soon.”

Levi nods. Decides to take the risk with his tea and sips. Its sweet taste fills his mouth, startling him with its novelty.

Levi has met lots of foreign tastes and people all over the world, but the new varieties of tea are his favorite, as they never cease to please him. In the case of the people, most have been friendly. Some have even given him tours of their cities, and thus Levi has observed monuments he didn’t think possible, seen animals beyond imagination, and visited places showing several styles—some with sliding doors, others with facades made of tiles, and more with round roofs. Each time, he can’t help but think how much she would have loved all of it.

Meeting so many new things, he feels like living one of her dreams. While sometimes he wishes to stay, rest, and let the others do the work they’re here for—which in the end isn’t something he’s good at, as it consists of being diplomatic—day after day, his mind drags him out into the streets, because every time he experiences something new, he feels she’s watching him. That doing what would have made her happy was making her happy right now.

It makes him feel closer to her, which is the best he can ask from this abysmally contrasting new world.

“They won’t come back soon,” Onyankopon worries, looking out of the glass window.

“Give them time.” Levi takes another sip, enjoying such a delicious flavor.

Onyankopon shakes his head. “They’ll never get on well again.”

Levi limits to give him a knowing smile. Every time Gabey, that stubborn girl, argues with Falco, Onyankopon is convinced that they won’t ever talk again, but Levi knows better.

The vague memories of the fights between Hange and himself return to his mind. The way her face reddened on the Mess Hall as she yelled at him before breaking his favorite cup. Her glare under angry eyebrows when he ruined her chance at trapping a titan. Her dismissal and harsh words after getting hurt by the Military Police.

They all seem so small, so minimal compared to everything that came after. Funny, even.

“I give them an hour,” Levi bets. “They have to go to a meeting in the city council.” He’s completely sure that, even if they come to a point where they think they hate each other, they’d still work together as the team they are and will remain by each other’s side. He has yet to be proven wrong.

Onyankopon snorts. “Fine.” He smashes a bad of bills on the table.

Levi refrains from adding anything. It always feels good to have Onyankopon’s money mounting in his pockets.

Just before the clock ticks an hour, both Gabey and Falco stroll into the hall. Strained still, but together. Onyankopon gapes at them and slams a fist on the table as Levi takes the money. Easy.

They sit with them, a line etched between Gabey’s brows. “This place is so old, and there’s nothing attractive in this city. I wish we could come back to the one with a hot air balloon. And—”

Hurried murmurs reach them.

“Yes, they are.”

“So disgusting.”

“And see her. An eldian bitch shouldn’t sit in hour tables…”

Falco jumps to his feet, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “What did you say about her?”

A man stands up from the next table, raising twice the height of Falco. “I said she was an eldian bitch, have a problem, asshole?”

Gabey charges to the man, knocking him down. On the ground, they become a jumble of legs and arms, whilst the man’s friends, Falco, Levi, and Onyankopon watch in shock as she ends up on top of the man, his face bruised.

“Apologize to him,” she tells him.

“No!” He croaks. She tightens her grip on his throat until he chokes. “S—Sorry.”

Gabey lets him go, and the man rushes out of the restaurant along with his friends. She dusts off her skirt, and a line of blood slides down her elbow.

“You’re hurt!” Falco leans to her and takes her arm, tears welling in his eyes.

Onyankpon turns his gaze from them. “T—They were mad an hour ago! They wouldn’t even look at each other!”

Levi shrugs. They’re always like that.

It’s easy to get along when you habitually agree with each other, but it isn’t natural. Problems and disagreements will always arise, but to Levi, sticking together through these problems, even when the other person tells you what you don’t want to hear, is what love is all about. Albeit his own experiences tinge his perception, he maintains that it’s about working as a strong team even when mad at each other; about being kind, and being there. About something that, no matter the bad, the good outshines. Something that couldn’t possibly fade away that easily.

Later, Levi sits in his empty bed, the coldness of the blanket seeping into his skin. He doesn’t want to lie there and spend yet another long sleepless night. He remembers loud voices chatting in his room; Erwin and Hange on his bed and Mike and Nanaba on some chairs, laughing and drinking tea just before everything fell apart.

“I’m going out,” Onyankopon says at the doorway, pulling him out from his reverie and into suffocating quietness. “Wanna come?”

Levi glances up at the sky visible in his window. It’s a starry night.

He shakes his head. “Not today.”

Onyankopon glances at the window and understanding washes his features. “Have fun, then.” He heads off.

When the hallway is silent, Levi puts some papers under his armpit. On his chair, he slides out of the room, down the corridor, and stops before steps.

Levi looks up the stairs reverently, aware of the effort they’ll demand of him. He hurls the papers to the top, puts one arm on a gap in the wall, and pushes himself up, climbing a step. And then another, and another, and one more. By the time he reaches the highest point, he’s breathing hard and fast, beads of sweat dripping down his face. His fingers feel humid and sore.

He recovers the papers and inspects around. Pushes a door open and moves outside, cold air engulfing him.

This world is strange, indeed. In the place he lived almost his entire life, the air is currently hot, so much that it’s like fire coming out of your nostrils. Here, though, it should start to snow in a few weeks.

Levi leans back on the cleanest surface he can find, and gazes up. Spreads out the papers on the floor and squints his good eye, not to miss anything. With a pencil, he begins to unskillfully draw the stars.

Hange always wondered what they’d look like in every part of the world, and that’s why on each visit to a new place, Levi goes up to the roof and portrays them as she would. It’s an activity that keeps him busy and gives him a purpose, for which his friends provide him privacy.

When finished, Levi looks at his work and folds the papers again. He lies on his back, lost in the horizon. The night is illuminated with the brilliance of its stars, those ugly distant points that shine in the darkness of the sky.

By isolating his surroundings, he gets to feel her again. Feels her warm body next to him, snuggling up to avoid the cold. Watches one of her slender fingers pointing to a certain star or figure ahead. He gets as far as to sense her breath against his neck if he focuses hard enough. Smells her essence and touches her smooth skin against his.

“Levi,” she chides, disappointed, “I can’t believe you’re still with that! Can’t you see it?” She throws her arms up. “Stars. Are. Beautiful! Just look at them! Our nights would be so depressing without them.”

“Alright, they are.” He nods, a smile in his voice. “Earlier today, I visited a museum. It showed skeletons of ancient creatures, which…”

Her eyes gleam with fun. “Oh, I know, ‘which were disgusting’. You were going to say that, am I right?”

“Idiot,” he says with amusement instead of bite.

She laughs, wrapping an arm over his shoulders, warming his stomach and soothing his heart. A wave of peace washes over him as her euphoric laugh glides with the wind, between the clouds, and towards the stars that she loved to contemplate so much.

And then, as always, he snaps out of his trance. Blinks and blinks to find himself alone, hollowness consuming his heart, his entire self.

He wishes he could see her again, if only for a second. Solely a glimpse it’s all he wishes for. A minute of her wild laugh, an hour of her babbles… Now all he can do is stargaze every day just to come closer to how free he used to feel when he was with her. As long as those stars shine above his head, even if they’re clouded or invisible, he’s carrying her with him, and he feels more at ease.

Even so, things are not easier than a year ago. He has way too much free time in his hands; he scrubs his room until it shines clean, he reads, he talks with the others. Goes out, but lacks something still. Trying to figure out what’s that something isn’t even worth it. He already knows it’ll never disappear. He just has to learn how to live with it.

“Levi!” Falco exits the rooftop door, looking around. “What are you doing here? It’s freezing!”

Before he can answer, Gabey pokes her head from the door. “I still don’t get what’s so entertaining about the stars.”

Despite her words, she lies down next to Levi while Falco settles at his other side.

Goodbye, calmness, Levi thinks, switching to an annoyed countenance, but inside—very, very deep inside—he’s glad to have them pestering here. It makes the never-ending pain a little more tolerable.

The pain, as the love, doesn’t simply fade. The ache of his soul turning into million pieces, and half of them leaving with her, doesn’t, either. His heart will never be fully mended or unscratched ever again.

But he’s moving forward, just as she’d like.

“I’m so cold,” Gabey shivers, rubbing her arms. Falco roses up and lies down at her other side, putting his sweater over her. Soon, both are in silence, low snores out of their mouths.

They’re really great together, Levi reflects.

Sometimes he feels so content watching them, as they remind him of happier days. Where Hange and him like that? It’s difficult to believe they were ever that young, but sometimes he spots that look in their eyes, the softness with which they look at each other, and recognizes the feeling behind it. Levi is certain that they were indeed like them, even if they didn’t notice it.

He averts his gaze from Falco and Gabey and directs it to the sky, mind slowing down.

Without war, Levi has recurred to introspection—something he used to despise—on his loneliest nights. And in those lonely nights, he secretly likes to think that some people came to this world just to find each other.

How could Hange and he fit so perfectly together, if not?

Exploring the world, so many stories and traditions have wandered his ears, and some have stayed with him. Such as this story he overly enjoys, which tells the tale of a couple so unfortunate that they kept losing each other again and again. Every time one left first, though, the other moved heaven and earth to find them wherever they were, just to be together once more.

And they go on like that for eternity, always finding each other no matter what. In this life or the next. In this world or another.

Hange will always be his person, and he’ll see her again; he holds no doubt on that.

They always found their way back to each other under this very same starry sky. While hating the other, while crushed by grief, while blinded by their own flaws. No matter what, they always did it. And they’ll do it again, he’s absolutely sure of it.

Somehow, he’ll make it possible.

Someday, here or there.

All they need is a little more time.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hange zoe #aot #aot fanfiction #snk #time to time #myfics #multichapter #fluff #angst

28 notes · View notes

sjhanny2000 · 3 years

Text

Secrets Worth Sharing

A/N: Hey y'all! This is my first Naruto fanfic, which I've also posted on Archive of Our Own. Please be kind and enjoy!

Warning(s): Minor character death, angst, hurt/comfort, intersex characters, arranged marriage, talks/thoughts about abortion/miscarriage

~~~~

Tobirama Senju was a man of many secrets. Well, more like a man that highly values his own privacy and is not as open as other individuals (like his easy-trusting older brother for example). He was not given the privilege of being open with his truths and feelings, having been groomed from birth to be a heartless shinobi who did not allow his emotions to interfere with his performance. His father had been harsh with these facts whilst training and out on the battlefield, blunt and uncaring that Tobirama and his brothers were children and children had no place amongst the battlefield and shouldn’t be expected to take a life without a bat of an eye. Kawarama had only been seven when he was ripped away from this world, so young and full of life, and it had taken everything in Tobirama’s small, lanky eleven pre-pubescent form to not break down much like his elder brother had, to feel such unbridled emotion his surviving otouto had felt. Itama’s death only a year later (sweet, innocent, and healing Itama) wrung him dry of tears, of allowing himself to be so vulnerable when it came to loss because to die ‘in battle was honorable’, at least that’s what their father had said as dirt was piled atop of his otouto’s grave to the right of Kawarama’s. He fought with every fiber of his being to protect what little family he had left, taking hits meant for Hashirama and saving Toka from debilitating blows, creating new jutsus, and putting the needs and feelings of others before his own because he wasn’t supposed to feel, shinobi don’t feel-.

Then, as he stood dutifully beside his anija opposite the Uchiha heirs amongst their fellow clansmen, Tobirama couldn’t help but feel. Moments before he had nearly stolen the life of one Izuna Uchiha and as adrenaline and tension crossed through his ever lanky yet muscular form, the conversation mingling between the opposing clans made his heart thumped against his chest as the two clan heads agreed to peace. Hope fluttered dangerously in his chest as his wine colored orbs searched Madara’s half hidden profile, gazing at those pools of obsidian with caution and reluctance whilst trying to determine whether the Uchiha was speaking truth when he offered his hand in establishing between through blood soaked clans. The time following the mutual surrender of the Senju and Uchiha, of Hashirama and Madara finally obtaining the means of support to create the peace they had dreamed of from a young age as they were forced to bury clansmen and young brothers, was a whirlwind of events, filled with peace talks, negotiations, and making sure his anija did not make a fool of himself. He waited for the other shoe to drop as each party laid out the final agreements, for this foolish dream of peace between the two rivals to come to an end before he began to believe it was true, and much to his surprise and his other clansmen (including his far too optimistic elder brother), the Uchiha set a requirement for concession.

“A Senju heir must marry one of ours, as a show of mutual acceptance of these peace agreements and in means of acquiring extra security for our clan.”

By the time this peace talks came to be, Hashirama and Mito had been married for nearly a year already and with the eldest Senju heir already taken and the other two dead and gone, the responsibility of establishing peace, in ending the unnecessary bloodshed between their respective clans, to honor the unneeded deaths of Itama and Kawarama, fell onto Tobirama’s shoulders. Being placed in such a position with no means of escape or replacement had been both suffocating and frustrating but he knew better than to reject the frail olive branch the Uchiha had set before them. Hashirama had tried to reason with Madara, (“Madara, is this really necessary-?”), and before the Uchiha clan head could even think of a response, Tobirama calmly sealed his fate.

“We agree to the terms you lay before us.”

His readied agreeance shocked not only his brother and cousin but floored the Uchiha delegation, particularly one Madara Uchiha who stared at him like he had grown a second head. Many deemed him one of the greatest haters of the Uchiha, having seen his treatment towards the rival clan on and off the battlefield, but Tobirama truly had no firm and enduring hate and ill-will towards the fire natured shinobi. Yes, he felt hate towards the Uchiha that had slaughtered his brothers but it was not directed towards the entirety of the Uchiha; they had been at war and a shinobi did whatever it took to survive or gain an upper hand, even if it meant killing the innocent. He found himself wondering what Kawarama and Itama would be like as he stood there with determination, arms crossed over his chest with finality. Would they be upset at seeing him agree to practically give himself away as a bargaining chip as a means to obtaining peace? Would they beg for there to be another way, to demand the Uchiha change their mind? Sadly, he would never know and that piece of knowing reality only strengthened his resolve.

Hashirama, placed between a rock and a hard place, conceded to giving away his only living brother away as a means of finally having peace and Tobirama watched as dread and reluctance colored his anija’s tar colored eyes. The plans of this arranged marriage were set and Tobirama found himself coming to look eye to eye with his promised husband and obsidian orbs subtly clashed with his pools of merlot, an unspoken bond now tying them together forever. Upon arriving back at the Senju compound, Tobirama found himself subjected to a nearly hysterical Hashirama, his elder brother demanding why, why had Tobirama agreed to such demands, there had to be another way-! Toka, while significantly more in control of her emotions, had similar demands, her main emotions having been anger and frustration (“There is only enough room for one idiot in this family, little cousin, and Hashirama already has that role covered!”) and after dealing with a depressed Hashirama, Tobirama did his best to soothe his cousin's worries. The only calm and rational person aside from Tobirama himself was Mito, his well-collected and commanding sister-in-law swiftly jumping in and knocking some sense into her blubbering husband and seething cousin-in-law and if she told him that she questioned his intelligence as they parted ways for the night, only the gods and the chirping crickets would know.

With the negotiations finished and the bed made and laid in by both parties, the construction of Hashirama and Madara’s dream village began and with it began his forced courtship with the Uchiha clan head. Hashirama, in an attempt to be intimidating, threatened the apathetic Uchiha with bodily harm if he ever came to harm his “precious otouto”, those his threats fell short for numerous reasons, the largest being that the peace treaty prohibited any violence occurring between the clans. Tobirama was swift in reminding his anija of this fact. Madara and his courtship began with a rocky start, as many arranged marriages do (Hashirama and Mito’s being the rare exception), and the need to be open emotionally, to not hide his emotions and to be the mind and voice of reason always was a difficult task. His betrothed also struggled with this reality, to be vulnerable in a world that ate such an open state with murderous glee, and arguments were had and feelings accidentally stepped on. Two emotionally stunted men together was a recipe for disaster and many watched them with bated breaths, for their engagement to fall apart, for the cautious hopes for peace to shatter into millions of pieces before their very eyes. The weight to succeed weighed heavy on Tobirama’s shoulders and as he stood in the middle of Madara and Izuna’s backyard amidst another argument with Madara, copious amounts of rain hailing from above without restraint as frustration and confusion tormented his soul, it finally forced him to collapse. He shouted at the Uchiha standing a mere few feet away from him under the roof of the engawa, tears racing down his marked face as he shouted himself hoarse, one of the worst storms in the region's history unfolding around them. Madara watched him with irritation, a well-made mask of indifference sitting upon his stoic visage, and as Tobirama finally gave up, when he threw the towel in and allow himself to be vulnerable for the first time in years, the Uchiha’s rough lips were suddenly on his own and suddenly his surroundings, his worries, his fears were gone and replaced with warm comfort.

Their relationship became one of truth and openness from that moment forward, the two of them doing their best to establish a balance between themselves, and unknowingly fell in love along the way. By the time the primary building of Konoha had been completed and their wedding date arrived, Tobirama could confidently (and quite fondly, though no one needed to know this at the time) state that he loved Madara Uchiha. As they exchanged their vows before the clans of the village, with Izuna smirking that ugly smirk of his and Hashirama in tears as his poor wife comforted the weeping fool (“He is taking Tobi away from me Mito!”, “Tobirama is not yours beloved, he is a grown man.”) Tobirama gazed at his husband to be with honest hope and heated cheeks. His heart sweetly ached at hearing Madara say “I do”, at knowing without a doubt in his mind that he was now Madara’s and Madara was his, that he had someone in which he could wholly confide his secrets and feelings in, and Tobirama knew he had been blessed well the moment their lips joined, sealing their marital union as those around them cheered and sobbed in the case of his anija. Their marriage, while lovely, of course experienced its own bumps here and there, particularly on matters of legislation and equality within the village, but Tobirama wouldn’t trade it away for the world because a world without Madara at his side was not worth living in.

Yet, as he stared at the white stick resting within his shaking hands, Tobirama feared that the world they had made was going to shatter at any second. Two lines of crimson glared at him with undenying truth, the feeling of an extra, new source of chakra nestled within his own person only confirming the results within his grasp. He had been born as an anomaly not only in appearance but in anatomicalities as well; the midwife had nearly passed out when she caught sight of not only albinism but his newborn self having both male and female genitalia and his father’s reaction hadn’t been much kinder. Few people knew of his condition and those who did typically accepted him no matter his abnormalities, Madara being no exception to that, and as he found himself happily married and being tasked with teaching the up and coming generation, the Senju found the yearning to have children of his own grow with each hair ruffle.

Tobirama knew the likelihood of someone with his condition, rare as it was, being able to carry a child let only father one and had unhappily accepted that he would never be able to have a child of both his and Madara’s making. With this truth in mind, the two of them still practiced safe sex and were content with the moments of parenthood being a mentor allowed them, never feeling compelled to strive for anything more; well, at least, Madara hadn’t shown any interest of having children of their own. Even with their vigilance and cautiousness, they ended slipping up here and there, having drunk too much sake or simply enjoyed feeling one another intimately, flesh to flesh, and now here Tobirama was, standing alone in their shared bathroom, two seconds from imploding as he internally panicked. How could this have happened? They had been so careful! What was Madara going to think?!

Silent, unshed tears threatened to fall down his pale features, the gravity of the situation at hand weighing down on him without any restraint. Madara and he were busy with their village and clan duties, with Tobirama being the advisor to his idiot brother who had been elected hokage somehow, along with being the Uchiha matriarch, and Madara acting as his other advisor and clan head. They had already been married for two years and were financially and emotionally stable as two shinobi could be and would have no trouble affording the costs that came along with having a child. No, Tobirama worried over whether this pregnancy was even viable and if Madara would want the child growing within him. The two of them were happy and content with their childless life, what if Madara only wanted that? He couldn’t give up his child so easily, the chance of having one in itself was a miracle, but he could never imagine living a life without his dark haired Uchiha. This secret was going to be the literal death of him.

*Knock knock*

Soft knocks from the bathroom doorway ripped Tobirama away from his heavy thoughts, the Senju hurried tucking the test into the pocket of his training pants, calling out swiftly, “Enter!”

He was thoroughly relieved when the calm personage of his sister-in-law appeared in the doorway, a look of caution and soft worry conflicting with her beautiful features as she stepped forward, sliding the door closed behind her.

Comforting pools of inky black washed over his form, the Uzumaki princess coming to kneel beside him, “No one saw me enter. It is just us.”

Relief flooded his system once more, a shaky sigh escaping the albino as he ran a hand through his hair for probably the millionth time in that hour alone, “Thank the gods.”

“If I may ask, what is this sudden need for secrecy Tobirama,” Mito questioned calmly, gazing at him with searching eyes. “Has something happened?”

Here goes nothing…

Slowly retrieving the test hidden within his pants pocket, Tobirama shakily deposited it into his sister-in-law’s hands, and if the situation had been different, Tobirama would have revelled in being able to shake Mito into a state of shock as she was now.

The Uzumaki’s now avid attention shifted from the positive pregnancy test to Tobirama, the redhead murmuring with caution, “Are you certain?”

He gave her a weak nod, his nerves growing with each second. “I can sense another source of chakra developing within me. Its size fits with the time frame of the last time Madara and I slept together without protection eight weeks ago.”

“Does Madara know of this,” Mito replied, face growing stoic once more. His lack of an answer had his brother’s wife sighing, placing the test back within Tobirama’s grip, “I see. I figure this pregnancy was neither planned nor expected.”

Tobirama did his best to reign in his fluctuating emotions, the sensor squeezing his eyes shut, “I presumed having a child of our own would never be a reality, considering our circumstances. We have never discussed having children, Mito; what if he does not want to be a father? I-I cannot just dispose of it.”

Mito shifted her form, a comforting hand coming to rest on his shoulder, “While I cannot speak entirely on your husband’s behalf, Tobirama, I know I can say that he would be over the moon to hear you are with child. Madara treasures the clan children, why would he not adore having his own?”

Both he and Madara treasured the children within the Uchiha clan, spending large amounts of time assisting fellow clan members by babysitting their spawn or teaching them various jutsus. Tobirama had often found himself imagining the dark haired children that often swarmed his husband were their children, excited to see their father after a long day. A reality he never thought possible until now.

Pools of wine, shakened with doubt and worry, came to fall upon Mito’s face of comfort and dignity, “How do I even go about telling him? What if he assumes the child is not his?”

She squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, voice smooth as water and warm as midday sun, “He would have to be stupider than he is now to conclude the child within you is the product of adulterous actions, brother. You simply need to be honest with him, just as you always have been; keeping this secret will only complicate things more.”

“Tobirama, I’m home!”

No, no, no, he wasn’t ready, he-!

It was only Mito’s touch that kept Tobirama grounded in that moment of panic, the Uzumaki stating with confidence, “Some things cannot be kept secret Tobirama. Tell him.”

“Tobirama? Is everything alright -?”

Madara’s familiar figure appeared in the bathroom doorway, the Uchiha’s already concerned face only intensifying as he stopped mid sentence, coming to kneel beside Tobirama with worry, “What has happened?”

Standing to her feet with grace, whilst knocking the pregnancy test out of view, Mito greeted the Uchiha clan head with a small smile, “Nothing that will not right itself in time, my friend. Now please excuse me, I promised my husband of mine that I would have his favorite dish prepared for him before he returns.”

Her gaze shifted to Tobirama with skillful ease, stating calmly, “Have faith Tobirama, all will be well.”

With that, the Uzumaki was gone, and the two men were left to themselves, an awkward silence quickly enveloping their persons due to her absence.

It was Madara who spoke first, the Uchiha taking Tobirama’s bare hand in his gloved one, “Are you alright Tobirama?”

Was he alright? He was eight weeks pregnant with a child he was not even sure had been possible until his discovery, one he was not certain that his husband would want. The Senju had numerous duties to fulfill not just as the advisor to the Hokage and as clan matriarch but also as a sensei to his students; he would not be able to assist them in learning for the following months until the child’s subsequent arrival.

Tobirama swallowed the fear attempting to slither up his throat, hand tightening around Madara’s, “Promise me that you will listen to what I have to say before releasing your judgement Madara.”

“What is going? Tobirama-!”

Steeling himself, Tobirama gave his husband a stern glare, “Promise me.”

Madara shifted uneasily in his position beside Tobirama, answering reluctantly, “I promise to listen.”

An agitated sigh left the sensor, Tobirama doing his best to gather his thoughts, “As you know, I have been experiencing fatigue and bouts of sickness these past few weeks. To better understand the reasons behind my condition, I conducted various tests on myself and whilst running these tests, came across a foreign entity within myself.”

His husband stiffened and moved to speak but Tobirama cut him off before a sound could escape him, “Worried that it was unnatural, I began to run more in depth tests to better understand the origin of this foreign entity.”

“In the end, with my symptoms in mind, I conducted a final test to confirm my suspicions. The results have me anxious about your reaction, because it is something I did not think possible of occurring.”

The clan head gazed at him with wariness, fear present in those beautiful pools of midnight black that Tobirama loves to peer into for hours on end, but Madara’s voice is strong with determination, “Whatever it is Tobirama, we will face it together! Hell, that idiot brother of yours will do everything in his power to fix it!”

A frown formed on Tobirama’s face, the sensor retorting quietly, “This is not something that can be healed Madara-.”

“It cannot hurt to at least try,” Madara shouted, his other hand coming to cup Tobirama’s left cheek. “I refuse to let you die laying down you foolish Senju-!”

Chuckling wetly, tears of anxiety and cautious joy blurred his vision, “I am not dying you Uchiha idiot.”

Confliction of relief and confusion waged on Madara’s personage, “You are not? But you said it was unfixable-!”

Tobirama was quick to cut him off, giving the fiery man a firm look, “If you had let me finish before rudely interrupting me, I was going to tell you that the condition I am in cannot be healed but it will fix itself on its own in seven months time you blockhead!”

Black eyes searched his person, clearly scrambling for answers, and the albino groaned in annoyance, “I swear, you can be as dense as my brother at times! I am trying to tell you that I am pregnant, you imbecile!”

Oh kami, what had he done?

Madara froze in his spot beside Tobirama, staring at him with undetectable emotion, and the sensor instantly was sent into a panic at his reaction, “I know we have never officially discussed having children and I know having a child right now while the village is still so young and with us being so busy is not logical but I want to have this child and I will raise it with or without your approval-!”

Rough lips smothering his own cut him off mid-rant, fiery passion burning brightly in the act of intimacy as his husband’s other hand came to cup his right cheek, and after a few moments of quiet, Madara pulled away, joy shining brightly in his tear-blurred eyes, “How could you ever think that I would not want to have a child with the man I love?”

With that, Tobirama fell apart, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he timidly replied, “A normal man could never do this.“

“Who said I wanted a normal man,” Madara firmly questioned, eyes stern and passionate. “I married a man who is a genius shinobi in his own right, who also happens to have a condition that has gifted us with a chance to have a child of our own flesh when so many others couples dream of such an opportunity!”

“You are not upset,” Tobirama whispered cautiously.

Madara gave him a shining smile and kissed him once more, tears of his own running down his face as his right hand came to rest on the albino’s flat stomach, “I could never be upset over something like this Tobirama. A child is a gift from the gods; I only pray it has your beautiful mind.”

The Senju stifled a sob at the Uchiha’s confession and Madara rested his forehead against Tobirama’s, allowing him to give his husband soft, comforting kisses.

After a few moments, Tobirama was able to reign himself in, giving Madara a small grin, “Hashirama and Izuna are going to be complete nightmares once they learn I am expecting.”

Scoffing, Madara pulled away, though he didn’t move his hand resting on Tobirama’s abdomen, “Those two buffoons are already nightmares in general. All hell will break loose once they hear they will be receiving a niece or nephew within the year.”

A comfortable silence filled the area for a few minutes before Tobirama spoke once more, “I asked that we do not let anyone know of the baby until at least the twelfth week mark, Mito aside of course; I do not want to get anyone excited in case I happen to miscarry.”

“You are not going to miscarry anything,” Madara stated confidently, moving Tobirama to rest his back against his chest whilst other hand came to join his right one. “But I understand your reasoning and agree to wait until you are ready to share this news.”

Tobirama turned his head to look at his husband, murmuring lovingly, “Thank you Madara.”

His husband pecked his lips, replying fondly, “Anything for you, my husband.”

Some secrets were better worth sharing after all.

#madara x tobirama #tobirama senju #team tobirama #headcanon #uchiha madara #senju hashirama #uzumaki mito #naruto #arranged marriage #angst #intersex #fluff #minor character death #izuna uchiha #toka senju #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines

62 notes · View notes

lo-frequency · 3 years

Text

U.A Students with Brand Deals pt. 2

This one is a lot more detailed than the first, and I put way too much effort into Kiri's, but I thought his was so cute lol. Anyway, y'all enjoy!

-Kirishima (Old Spice or other men’s hygiene products)

Kiri just looks like a walking Old Spice commercial.

The commercial opens with a shirtless Kiri lifting weights, but the weights aren’t fully in the picture, just him. He’s like “Hello Ladies, what’s the 1st thing that comes to mind when you think of a man? (After about 50 takes because he kept forgetting his lines)

“It’s me, right?” he says with a grin as he keeps effortlessly lifting, “Then you think to yourself ‘I wish I had a man like Red Riot’” and then the camera pans out so you can fully see the weights, and they actually have something ridiculous attached to the ends of them like 2 small cars or whole refrigerators.

The scene changes and now he’s jogging shirtless through a park (while his 8 pack ripples in all its glory) and he says “And now you’re probably thinking, ‘But how can any man be so manly?’ he takes a moment to casually pick up an old lady and carry her across the street all while still jogging and looking into the camera “I’ll tell you ladies a secret- I started using Old Spice body wash”

Now we’re looking at the inside of a grocery store, specifically the men’s hygiene aisle and Kiri suddenly punches through the wall (still shirtless) and steps inside, picking up a bottle of Old Spice from one of the shelves. “Tell your man to try new Old Spice: Red Riot scent, and you’ll see what a man he can be” he says with a toothy smile and the screen switches to the Old Spice logo and it says some lame slogan like “Old Spice: Be Your Manliest Man” and then the little Old Spice tune plays

I mean...I’d buy it 🤷🏾‍♀️

-Denki: Could definitely see him as some kind of tv personality like hosting a show or on the radio. He’s always getting invited onto shows/guest starring because he’s so entertaining (often unintentionally). He’d be on tv so much people would wonder if he’s even still a pro-hero.

-Definitely has been on Jimmy Fallon or SNL

-Would release his own music at some point and gets a lot of hate for it but it lowkey goes hard

-Would be featured in the most random celebrity’s music video (has tweeted at Megan the Stallion several times)

-Has a pretty large following on social media

-Jirou: Would have her own brand of headphones and would definitely have released her own music.

-If you can afford it, she’ll DJ your event

-Would have her own music game where you mix songs and make your own tracks

-Yaomomo: Definitely does skin care commercials, like for some “Olay: Ultra Ultimate Flawless Hydrating Energizing Anti-Aging Serum” and there’s a voiceover of her talking about the product while she’s in the commercial being her usual beautiful, flawless self. And the thing is- she doesn’t even use this product, that’s all her 😩

-Go off, Yaomomo 😤

-Todoroki: Also has Nike’s lol, mismatched red and white, probably would have a lot of foods/snacks designed after him (red and white themed)

-I could also see him getting invited to a Pro-Hero podcast for like conspiracy theories or something, and he always has the most off the wall theories so people listen just to hear his commentary

-But he do be making some points tho, so people can’t help but actually consider what he says 👀

-Ochaco: I’m sure all the other Pros probably have these, but I feel like Ochaco would have a really popular line of kid’s toys. I can see a whole section at Walmart dedicated to Ochaco toys. Some of them make bubbles, some of them are just action figures, and some are Barbie dolls and you can style them/change their clothes

- Definitely has kids meal toys

-Honorable mentions:

- Mirio: Lemillion cereal, it’s lemon flavored (sweet tho, like Fruit Loops) and Nike shoes. They’d be mostly white and have a gold 1,000,000 on them, or have a Nike check with the one million inside it...I probably should’ve just made a separate post with just the character shoe designs lol

-Tamaki: Would have his own Takoyaki stand franchise. Could also see him with a brand of yoga pants/athleisure because of his hero costume.

-Dabi’s radio show: I know he’s neither a student nor a pro but I definitely felt his late night radio show was worth mentioning. You just listen to his voice over the radio, talking about anything and nothing, as you drive late at night. Sometimes listeners will call in and ask for relationship advice and his advice is terrible but with a voice like that, how could he be wrong?

#bnha heacanons #bnha x reader #todoroki headcanons #kirishima headcanons #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #class 1a headcanons #denki headcanons

142 notes · View notes

coffee-bat · 3 years

Text

sure i do! (posting screenshot of ask for easier formatting)

(also, i have a whump headcannons ask that i've been compiling the response to for the past weeks (anon who asked, i'm so sorry it's taking so long, i'm not ignoring your ask), so this one will focus strictly on everything OTHER than whump.)

- he often bites his nails when stressed, or even just bored (or when he has no cigar on hand. he has a thing for chewing/nibbling on things). stopping himself from doing it is one of the reasons he wears gloves (other than for warmth and to shield his hands from damage), as having his nails bit too short is painful and can make his work almost impossible. (saying this as a nail biter. you literally CANNOT use a finger that you bit the nail of too short)

- speaking of stimming, aside from biting things, he uses the compass around his neck as a stim toy. it's useless around him, as his own magnetic field renders it impossible to point north as it should, but he'll often play with it by making it spin through altering his field. it requires both focus and a small bit of physical effort, effectively taking his mind off whatever's stressing him, at least for a short bit until he gets bored.

- he thinks he can cook, but anyone who's ever tried his cooking strongly disagrees. while his techniques are okay, like he doesn't burn or undercook stuff, the things he makes are borderline inedible. (he once made a party cheese salad for a family meeting and lowkey bonded with moreau over him being the only one to like the atrocity)

- he's the youngest of the lords (with the age order being alcina>moreau>donna>karl). donna looks younger than him, however it's mostly because of his healing factor being worse than the others', making him actually age (even if very slow) instead of being stuck in time.

- he DESPISES family meetings, along with the family dinners miranda keeps insisting on (which take place either at the castle or at donna's place, as moreau's reservoir and the factory are unsuited for that to say the least), but the latter's redeeming factor is that, if he's lucky, he gets a unique opportunity to fuck with alcina. which usually means eating her out of house and home (using the fact that she's too proud of her good manners to refuse a guest), getting drunk, wrecking her house (muddy boots who?) and then passing out somewhere. it gives him the opportunity to make himself her problem and he loves that. (i've actually started work on a comic a few weeks ago where alcina kicks karl off a random couch she finds him on (in a food coma), a shitposty thing with a SLIGHTLY wholesome-ish ending (as wholesome as alcina gets), but it was taking so long that i just gave up at some point. though, if any of y'all would like to see it finished, let me know, it'd be easier to motivate myself to do it if i knew anyone actually wanted me to lol)

- he holds animals close to his heart but would hate to admit it, in fear of appearing weak or soft. claims that he lets the one (1) cat stay in his factory ONLY because it helps with rats, totally not for company because he's a sad lonely man, what are you talking about.

-he's neither a cat or dog person, he likes both equally, but it'd be far harder to keep a dog in his quarters, seeing as it would require both more space and regular walks + playtime, while a cat is perfectly happy with just getting to sleep on him at night (in terms of contact/bonding).

- though, while he doesn't have a dog, he lowkey treats the lycans as such. keeps them under his control solely through giving them dog treats he buys from the duke. (took him a long time and lots of claw/teeth injuries to figure that out, but hey, better late than never).

--warning: the next few paragraphs discuss weight insecurity and body dysmorphia. i'll let you know when the segment ends so you can skip it if it's triggering or makes you uncomfortable--

- he's insecure about his body, both the scars littered across it and his weight. the first can't be helped and he's aware of it, however the latter TECHNICALLY CAN be and thus it bothers him far more. he used to be in a better shape, both mentally and physically, before his life was completely consumed by his work and plans of the rebellion, however these days, he just can't afford to focus on keeping himself in shape (he doesn't have the time and energy to exercise outside of the weight lifting he has to do while working, and same goes for taking care of his diet. cooking and eating balanced food takes too much time and energy, making him resort to whatever is the quickest to make and will keep him going through the day). he feels intense discomfort when looking at younger pictures of himself, he can't help but feel that he has "let himself go" in the recent years, however simultanously doesn't have the time and energy to do anything about it. it's frustrating and makes him feel out of control.

- alcina once touched on the topic while arguing with him, and it fucked him up. up until then he clang onto the small bit of hope that maybe noone has noticed the changes in his body, that maybe it was just him that was hypersensitive to it and in reality it wasn't that visible, and alcina's comment instantly shattered it. not only did she notice, but she apparently considered it worthy of using against him. there goes his last bit of confidence.

- it was one of the very few times she has seen him actually cry (before storming off to hide himself in his factory). it was also one of the few times she had apologized to him. she has made comments about his height and general looks before, and it never seemed to bother him, he always retorded back with a snarky remark targeted back at her, so she truly thought he had no insecurity issues- but this time, for the first time, he just looked hurt, almost disbelieving, and ran away without a word. it made her initial anger melt away instantly, realizing what she did. she ran after him a few minutes later, hoping it wasn't too late and she hadn't done unreversable damage. the whole incident was a major blow to her ego, especially as she was forced to beg karl over the intercom to let her in, but she wouldn't have forgiven herself if she didn't tell him that she was sorry and didn't mean it. she had to admit to herself that it truly was a low blow and she couldn't let herself be carried away like this ever again.

- karl's confidence never really healed from the incident, it's not something he can just forget. but he did get a kick out of having alcina beg for forgiveness, so he considers at least that to be an upside of the whole thing.

--weight/body dysmorphia discussion ends here--

- he gets sensory overloads easily, especially from loud noise, making him snappy if there's too many people talking/making noise. he also often has issues with things touching him when he's already stressed - due to this, he keeps a hairband in his pocket at all times (to keep his hair out of his face), and has tied the belt of his trench coat behind his back so it wouldn't touch his arms while moving around (that one is actually part of his character model). having things hanging off him irritates him greatly.

- he has a tendency to cling onto/hug whatever is in his reach while he's asleep. usually it's a pillow or his blanket, but it's also a risk one should be aware of when choosing to sleep in one bed with him. you're gonna wake up in a death grip. and he's a heavy sleeper, so don't even think about going to the bathroom.

- speaking of physical affection, he loves massages, they're one of his favorite types of affection to receive. any kind of them, really. he's sore most of the time, so a bit of relief is always greatly appreciated. back/shoulders after a long day of work, tummy if his cadou is bothering him or his eating habits fucked him over again, maybe even hands if he's worked manually for too long and his palms are starting to cramp. it's all really appreciated. (another factor contributing to why he likes them is that they're completely selfless acts of affection. his partner isn't getting anything out of it (like they would with anything sexual or romantic), its only purpose is to help him feel better. makes him feel loved.)

- speaking of, he literally cried the first time ethan gave him a shoulder rub. feeling the decades worth of pain, tiredness and muscle strain that he didn't realize he felt finally fade, be washed away, made his eyes water, he couldn't help it. it wasn't long after they had moved in together (as roommates, since karl had nowhere to go), and to karl, it felt like an affirmation that it's over, he can relax, he can rest now. no need to keep overworking himself, to keep not letting himself ever catch a break because "he might like it too much and stop chasing his goal", to keep doing anything to keep himself going for years on end despite knowing it's ruining his body. it's done, it's over, he finally deserves a rest. it made ethan deeply confused and concerned before karl sobbed out why he's crying.

these are all for now, i think! at least all that comes to mind at the moment. if you'd like me to talk about headcannons on a specific subject/topic (or expand on any of these ones), let me know! i'm sure to think of something that i haven't already, or forgot to write down. i just love talking about headcannons, man.

#this bitch took me 2 hours to write i really hope you like it #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #headcannons #long post

50 notes · View notes

the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #my best habit #my writing

277 notes · View notes